[Active/Closed]

[is_not_number1]

Who: Mello and Akito/Agito, with a free ghost included
Where: The Parlour, and possibly elsewhere?
When: Backdated to Night 003
What: Mello runs into an injured Akgi, and then... there is a Mirror Man?
Warnings: I'm going to stick a language warning on this, and I don't know what else.

Comments

[fanged_wings]

Agito had stayed in a safe room like a good kid for a few 'days', Akito keeping track of time passing even though it was still as dark as ever. Eventually, the shark decided to move, aware that the parlour shouldn't be too dangerous right now. He'd been resting on the lounge when he heard a familiar voice, taking a moment to place it. Mello?

"A kid who was too fucking hungry," he replied, pushing himself up so he could prop himself up on his elbows, not bothering to sit up fully. Golden eye watched Mello warily. He wasn't in any condition to fight, and he didn't know what the other wanted.

[is_not_number1]

A kid who was too fucking hungry? It wasn't a terribly specific answer, though Mello supposed that unless he'd been unfortunate enough to meet a live resident who practised cannibalism, the kid was referring to one of the ghosts.

He crossed his arms as he took a few steps forward to approach the kid. "I should assume that this kid was a ghost?" Both the question and his expression were flat.

If it was a ghost, Mello figured that it wasn't one he had run into yet. The description sounded decidedly less than familiar; while it was true that some of the creatures here did seem to have an interest in eating the house's prisoners, he would hardly describe the ones that he'd encountered as kids.

[fanged_wings]

The dark rolled his eye, letting himself fall flat again and not bothering to wince when his body complained. He'd felt worse. "Duh." What else was there in this place but ghosts and monsters? Someone alive he could have handled with ease.

[allthekeys]

Mello and Agito could easily hear rhythmic clicking from the hallway, drawing closer by moment. It was almost leisurely, the sound of unhurried footsteps accompanied by the confident tap of a cane against the polished stone floor. The faceless man in the mirror strolled into view, free hand tucked into his suit jacket's pocket, and paused in the doorway to regard the pair with a tilted head from beneath the brim of his fedora.

Silent and still, he hardly seemed aggressive, even if he was suddenly, inexplicably free of the mirror. He strode into the room as though he belonged--as though there were nothing at all wrong or strange about wandering in like just one more guest, glancing curiously at the cold and empty fireplace as he approached. The hand slipped back out of his pocket--but instead of raising a knife to attack, he simply tipped his hat in a jaunty greeting to them both.

[is_not_number1]

Well, that figured. Mello was only about to ask about where this ghost had been-- it seemed like it would be a useful bit of information to be aware of-- when the sound of footsteps caught him off guard, and he sharply turned to see a third person enter the room.

A third person who, probably most significantly, didn't have a face.

Mello took a couple of seconds to stare, although the previous day's events had stamped out any surprise that he might have had to see the faceless guy wandering the house proper. His escape from the mirrors had been predictable enough; the mirror in the bathroom was clearly broken-- at that, the room itself hardly seemed to be hospitable-- and as far as Mello knew, the shadow man still had the key.

And apparently, by extension, this guy did as well.

"Well," he commented, acknowledging the greeting with a raised eyebrow. "I see that you've managed to get out