| private | video |ls_rueflectionJuly 5 2010, 16:19:43 UTC
[And B's chuckles have grown fairly audible, forcing him to retreat deeper into the crawl towards the cavern, and the area is of drips and coolness, only one light hole, an area he is sure Mihael and his dog haven't found yet. He settles into the corner, chalk pale face even whiter in the beams of moonlight and his pale lips curve, tight. They're still suppressing low laughter because, as little as he does know of Kira and the serial murders, it is clear to any intelligent human being that dear Light Yagami confessed.
In a dream.
For what? Guilt? Fear? Nostalgia?
Oh, he has a fit of the chuckles.
His knees draw to his chest, a smooth motion that is nearly habitual in nature, feet dragging over the lava-rippled floor. He doesn't need to concern himself with the dangers of video. Light knows his face. And he knows his name. But that is irrelevant here, now isn't it? Aha, the boy isn't cut out for violence, regardless; withdrawing to the safety of books to murder. How pathetic-- and the cause? Loneliness. Bullying. Fuckin'
( ... )
[And he's had enough. Because this shouldn't have gone so far, and it's taking a lot for Mello to keep any negative thoughts about L out of his head, right now. He took it on himself. It's his responsibility. And he was alone, on the fucking streets for all of those years, and never once could go sniveling to L when shit got too tough.
So he's going to handle shit on his own now, too.
For the second time since he's had the pleasure of meeting B, Mello swings, aiming the butt of his gun for that left temple, swiftly. This time, Iruka isn't going to be around to heal B, and whatever damage he incurs from this scuffle is going to hurt. For a long time. Longer, if he acts up again.]
[There is a burst of pain, bone shuddering and sending a jolt to his eyes, and his cheek scrapes across the ground, skin tearing and splitting. His vision collapses under the excruciating clash, distinctive lines smearing and running like watercolors on a canvas-- and is that the trickling of the paint? His mind blanks to a throbbing numbness, eyes focusing gradually on the thin spring slipping between pebbles and dips in the stone floor. Where. Oh
( ... )
[Mello's got it handled, of course, and Matt feels vaguely useless, knowing all he really contributed was good timing. He watches Rue stop struggling, and he doesn't feel much of anything except relief that it's over.]
I say we leave him here.
[But he bets Mello won't go for that; when he decides something is his to do, nothing can stop him or make him do a half-assed job of it. Add L to the mix of motivations, and yeah. Matt foresees some dragging to the cave in the future for all three of them. He won't even object, is the sad part. Mello's determination has always rolled right over Matt's ambivalence, and old habits die harder than he would've guessed, apparently.]
In a dream.
For what? Guilt? Fear? Nostalgia?
Oh, he has a fit of the chuckles.
His knees draw to his chest, a smooth motion that is nearly habitual in nature, feet dragging over the lava-rippled floor. He doesn't need to concern himself with the dangers of video. Light knows his face. And he knows his name. But that is irrelevant here, now isn't it? Aha, the boy isn't cut out for violence, regardless; withdrawing to the safety of books to murder. How pathetic-- and the cause? Loneliness. Bullying. Fuckin' ( ... )
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So he's going to handle shit on his own now, too.
For the second time since he's had the pleasure of meeting B, Mello swings, aiming the butt of his gun for that left temple, swiftly. This time, Iruka isn't going to be around to heal B, and whatever damage he incurs from this scuffle is going to hurt. For a long time. Longer, if he acts up again.]
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I say we leave him here.
[But he bets Mello won't go for that; when he decides something is his to do, nothing can stop him or make him do a half-assed job of it. Add L to the mix of motivations, and yeah. Matt foresees some dragging to the cave in the future for all three of them. He won't even object, is the sad part. Mello's determination has always rolled right over Matt's ambivalence, and old habits die harder than he would've guessed, apparently.]
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