Old World's Runner Up

Shock aside, Mello’s ambient grumpiness never fails to make Badou give a grin of his own. At least that’s familiar, comfortable and knowable. He crosses his arms over his chest, lifts his chin. 

“You absolutely have goons, dude. They lick your boots, those are goons,” because this is truly the important part of this and not ‘hey how are you its been years how aren’t you dead??’ nothing like that. 

Boys.

They’d really gone through some weird crap. But it wasn’t the worst, that’s for sure, not that he’ll admit it.

He laughs -- and it’s a nice sound. Though short and sweet it actually surprises him with how it feels coming from him, and as such he smiles a little and leans back casually against the wall, not his usual uptight self.

“I guess, I had goons. I blew them all up,” he says a little bit casually. “Many of them did lick my boots like you said. So I guess you’re half right.” It’s really nice seeing him again -- this familiarity. He could express it, but it’s best just to let him read between the lines.

“I doubt you’re telling me the truth.” Not that it was any of the boy’s business to remember. Even seeing someone have some sort of joy in eating their favorite food seem repulsive. Only because he couldn’t find the joy in that after eating his own fair of chocolate. “You can just admit it blondie. Even if that’s possible, when you get older your body won’t work the same way as it is now.”

Technically it was true for some people. Sora just couldn’t help but be unimpress by the other’s whole appearance. Black shirt, black pants, black shoes even. Wonder what this guy’s favorite color has to be. “Also you’ll burn in the heat with all that black.”

Mello was not impressed to say the least. With an eye roll he took another bite of his chocolate, a satisfying snap as the piece of the bar half melted in his mouth. “Why do you care, kid?” he asked, feeling more and more irritated as the conversation went on. It seemed to him that this guy was quick to judge.

He snapped off another piece and put a hand on his hip as he eyed the other down. He chose to ignore the comment about all the black -- this small child knew nothing about fashion. “If you have to know, it helps me to think. One of the smartest men I ever knew used to eat sweets all the time, and he was the world’s greatest detective.”

chocoholicsinner liked your post “so…mm starter call! uncapped. ”

If there was one thing that Kai never did, it was sharing his food with elite looking people who looked like they belong in that place. Being the kind immoral man that he is, he had a bag full of chocolates in his hand as he bites chunks off each bar, one by one. 

He feels something close to a stare on the chocolates. 

 “….”

He bites another. 

Of course Mello noticed the other -- for some reason, he himself had forgotten to bring his own chocolate today. This just caused his stomach to growl as he eyed down the other, a grimace on his face.

It takes a few moments for him to say anything, but when he does it’s with gritted teeth.

silence & static over the phone.

both of your eyes are closed. you both want to say it but neither of you are speaking. if you listen closely, and focus on their breathing, it’s almost like they’re there with you. when one of you finally breaks the silence with a whisper, they sound so close that your stomach aches.

tagged by: i also stole this from @jeevastm​

frustration.

In longing, you feel frustration. You feel that you've almost reached your desire one too many times and you don't understand why you keep getting denied. You feel the universe is taunting you, playing just beyond your reach and leaving you on the brink of breaking every time it dances away. When you let yourself feel your yearning, you bury your face in your hands and turn to look at the sky, not expecting an answer, but pleading for relief. There's a burn in your heart that you just can't explain in words but it's deep, you can feel it in your throat and just under your chest. You take a deep breath and exhale heavily. It settles you enough to continue on as you were. You see others living your desire and you don't feel jealous per se, but the burn raises in intensity and you just wish... something. You want change from your current situation, at this point, you don't really care what it is, just... something. Have courage my dear, you can brave the fires of this world if you so wish.

tagged by: stolen from @jeevastm​

  getting the information he needed, matt sets off and pulls the first aid supplies from the bathroom cabinet. eyes skim the contents, frowning momentarily and decides to swipe a bottle of pills. he makes one last stop in the kitchen, taking a few more items before heading into mello’s bedroom. he didn’t know what belonged to who, but he figured no one in mello’s house would miss a cubes of ice and a few bottles of water with no one’s name on it.

without warning, he turns the knob and enters.  ❝ you ready? ❞  he makes a motion toward the bed, pulling over the desk chair so matt could sit directly in front of him.  ❝ here. those peas have been meltin’ on our walk. should keep this on a little more. ❞  he says, holding out the makeshift compress of ice wrapped in a washcloth for mello replace.  

  ❝ … where else did they get ya? ❞

Mello sits down in front of him and puts his hands on his lap. His expression isn’t exactly the most welcoming, but that’s okay. Matt’s used to all of Mello’s mood swings and the anger that he barely keeps in check, so the hard lines of his face and the crease between his brows is not going to deter him from helping. Hopefully.

He tosses the peas on the bed and silently takes the makeshift compress. Pressing it to his eye just gives him a fresh wave of pain, one he’s very content to push down and ignore. He’s not sure if Matt could see the way Mello’s body winced in pain, or in contrast the way his body seems to just... relax around his best friend.

  ❝ if you mean a friend… that’s a girl, she’s peachy. i think you’d like her. ❞  

  before matt lets mello butt in with a smart mouthed comment, he continues with a roll of his eyes. ❝ and relax. just because i happened to talk to some people besides you and near doesn’t mean we’re not… ❞  trailing off, eyes shift awkwardly to the side, figuring out how to phrase it.  ❝ didn’t realize you cared. you were always complainin’ i don’t do anythin’ or go anywhere. ❞  he clarifies, shuffling into mello’s home as soon as it’s open.  ❝ would’ve told you if i was seein’ someone anyway. i don’t hide that kinda shit from you. ❞

  when matt mulled over it the past week, ( the late night contemplation by staring stupidly at the ceiling for hours kind of thinking— ) he nearly forgot that it was a new concept for them; normalcy. having a life meant meeting people and making connections that were more than just pawns in their plans and fleeting faces they’d forget in the morning. it’s a weird space of foreign territory. when he thought about it that way, he… understood the anger. hell, matt didn’t expect to find himself hanging around other people willingly either.

  he hands over the plastic bag filled with chocolate and other various goods, sparing a glance over his shoulder.  ❝ first aid— where is it? i’ll meet you in your room. ❞

Mello doesn’t want to admit that his shoulders are relaxing a little, that there’s a tension leaving him. Sure, he knew logically that Matt wasn’t dating that girl (what was her name again? Mello had already forgotten, it’s not important information) but to hear him reassure him is... well. Comforting. Mello’s not about to admit that, though, but he’s pretty sure Matt can see through his feigning indifference.

He can always see through Mello’s bullshit, anyway.

He takes the bag of chocolate and looks at his best friend for a long moment. “Bathroom,” he answers simply enough. “First aid is above the sink in the cabinet. And yeah, you know which room is mine.”

      near just looks at him, eyes fixed somewhere between mello’s lips and the collar of his shirt, though he’s not focusing on any particular part of him. he can’t bear to raise them, to meet mello’s glare. it’s not that he’s afraid, really. not of mello, who had once walked brazenly into his headquarters and aimed his gun at him over an old photograph that near was ready to turn over anyway.

                    ( some things never change, do they? )

      “ i never said you were mine, ” he said, almost unbearably calm compared to mello’s rising and falling anger. he doesn’t expect anything, in particular, because it would be irrational of him to hold any sort of expectation.

      he kind of likes that, though. he won’t say anything now, but he likes how mello defies expectations and doesn’t fit perfectly into any particular category assigned to him. near wouldn’t be so stupid as to assume he has any claim over mello.

      still, he likes his presence. he hopes he doesn’t run off on him again, for more than a little while at least.

      “ are you staying here, then? ” he asks a little blandly, looking up at him properly at last. “ or do you want to leave now? ”

Mello scoffs. Always for Near to be so silently judgemental, so bored of everything that he can’t even bear to look Mello in the eyes. For all of Mello’s genius, it’s interesting that he never put together the why of Near’s evasiveness.

( he’s always.

             always.

                     had a blind spot. )

“Yeah,” he says instead, and turns on his heel abruptly. His face is one of anger, shame, and something else he himself can’t even pinpoint. It’s making his stomach hurt.

Since it’s already cold outside, her cold fingers wrapping around the one pinky shouldn’t be too much of a difference, right? She’s halted in her tracks now. Part of her is curious to know what all the fuss is with the lineup for food. She wants to know so bad, but it really wouldn’t be a good idea. What if she ate it and it didn’t agree with her? What if she fell asleep? shut down or something? Then this poor guy would have to deal with it. She’s looking up at him. Did he know anything about machines like her? She wasn’t like any machines, very complex. How would he be able to handle that? 

She has to take these ALL into consideration. 

“No. It’s okay. I have homework….anyway.” Not a lie, actually. She….hasn’t touched her homework because she still can’t read some words. Whoops. Wouldn’t this be perfect then? TO have someone help her? 

Teach her to read words full on. 

Mello is shaken by the barrage of words that come out of the girl’s mouth. School? Here? They make children go to school?

“What?” he half demands, his brow furrowing even more. Admittedly he didn’t have a child in the school system, nor had he really ever gone to a normal school -- but he’s still surprised by her words. “They make you go to school here?”

He scratches his eyebrow with his free hand and thinks for a moment. Is no one looking after her? He may be a mafia boss -- former mafia boss, he supposes -- but he still has a heart and still wants to make sure she’s going to be okay.

  matt cocks his head and gives him a look as if to say: ‘ are we really going to do the small talking thing? ‘ — but decides not to act on it, sensing the subtle struggle of mello trying. at least, that’s what matt wants to believe. instead, he gives a hint of a lazy smile and rubs the back of his neck with his free hand.  

  ❝ nothin’ special. found out i can’t hack into the island’s system. and scrounged up some money with a quick job but dealin’ with the guy is a pain soooo — not gonna go back. ❞  matt’s answer comes easy. as usual, he doesn’t do much to begin with ( but he enjoys his lax way of living, so, whatever ), but sometimes it gets pathetically worse when he knows mello is mad at him, even if all the reasons for it were unfair.

  ❝ doesn’t look like i have to ask what you’ve been up to. ❞   he says, gently nudging mello’s side with his elbow though the concern on his face remains. he knows he’s testing his luck with the light jest, but he just wants the tension between them to disappear.  ❝ let me take a look at you when we get to your place, mels. you got first aid stuff there, right? ❞

Mello frowns, his chin sort of jutting out. It’s like when they were kids, and Matt would walk the line between teasing and getting Mello really worked up. It’s always been like this, they walk around each other, circling, poking each other until the other fell like a house of cards.

He tilts his head to the side and hears his bones in his neck crack. “I guess,” he says, though nonchalant he’s really glad that he’s going to have Matt help him. Sure as hell beats sitting alone, growling at roommates to leave him alone while he puts ice on his face. “I have some stuff you can use, if that’s how you want to spend your afternoon.”

He starts to guide Matt more directly towards his apartment. There’s still the argument hanging between them, but he’s not really wanting to acknowledge it right now. Instead, he pulls at one of the strings, tentative to unravel this.

jeevastm‌:

 ears tune into near’s quiet voice within the howling wind and the pitter patter of heavy rain against the windows, shivering as he pats his face dry. ❝ mmfth— ❞  right. towel. ❝ you haven’t? ❞   matt breathes out a fleeting curse and moves to check his phone on the counter top. no new texts or calls. he sucks in his lower lip, feeling a buzz of uneasiness underneath his skin because it’s mello they’re talking about; torn between jumping on his urge to find him and staying put.  

  near’s following response work as both a reassurance and reminder of the chaos. it doesn’t completely quell his worries, but it’s enough to settle. instead, he hovers beside near at the stove, continuing to talk as a form to distract himself, ❝ you’re right. so. is that tea gonna make it? the power i— ❞

  the abrupt sound of the door being thrown wide open cuts through and matt turns, spotting the subject of their concern. he sighs softly, relief cooling his nerves. ❝ no shit, ❞  but before he could say anything else, mello’s already questioning what they were going to do. even with their combined strengths, any attempt to help would just be laughable in this mess.  ❝ what are we going t— you’re not serious, are you? ❞  

 (  — @restiituo​​​ > @chocoholicsinner​​​   ) 

||  █ ▌— near glances toward the door as it opens, and there’s only a brief flicker of concern on his face before he relaxes just as minutely as mello comes in. by this point, he’d poured the hot water from the kettle into the pot to brew the tea, not wanting to take any more chances with the flickering power. the teapot sits on the counter, unassuming and forgotten for the moment, though as mello speaks.

near’s eyes narrow ever so slightly. ❝ no. we aren’t doing anything, mello. ❞

it’s not–as though he’s trying to give orders, but matt is not being firm enough for his liking. near glances at mello, then at matt, then away. it’s easy to see where this is coming from, but he doesn’t want to bring up what will only sound to mello like accusations regarding his mental state, and truth be told, he worries that matt will end up giving in to mello’s desire to play hero.

❝ there’s little we can do. even people who can fly are having trouble, ❞ he says, a touch hesitantly, despite his firm tone.

( @chocoholicsinner​​ – @jeevastm​​ )

Mello is not deterred. He should be, maybe, with the combination of these two telling him in no uncertain terms no and the fact that he’s severely lacking in abilities. Yes, even people who can fly are having issues, but did those people take down a God and live?

He sucks in a breath of air and shakes his head. Droplets of water land on his shoulder and he looks at the two with something between resignation and irritation. The expression is not something foreign to him, especially when he looks at Near.

Eyes roll. “You can’t tell me what to do,” he says to Near, and he knows it’s childish. He doesn’t really care. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing. We can’t call ourselves L’s successors if we sit here and not help, you know.”

It’s been a long time. It’s been almost 5 years. Badou’s changed a lot– in looks, in desperation and battlefields interchanged. His attitude’s still pretty crappy, though.

But Mello hasn’t changed. Still looks like he walked right out of that church, still giving orders and underestimating him…while estimating him.

So all Badou can do for a moment is stop and stare, these two once allies, toe to toe. 

“Me? What the hell are you doing here!? You’re supposed to be back where you came from, abusing your goons every time they talk about burnt marshmallows.”

Mello’s smile on his face comes quite against his will. He wants to look formidable for his second encounter with his friend -- but he can’t. Badou was always rough around the edges, but he was fun, too. They got into a lot of shit together, and he knows that they could continue on like that if they wanted to.

But there were questions that needed to be answered first.

jeevastm‌:

   ❝ … thanks for the towel. shit got insane pretty fast. ❞ 

   considering the circumstances, it was a huge understatement, but what else was he going to say? with the raging winds and rain that stormed through archimedes, it was a miracle that matt even made it to near’s place at all. now his clothes were sopping wet from the downpour and the whole ward’s power kept flickering between on and off, with no sign of stabilizing. should’ve figured it was about time for the city to show its crazy colors.

  remaining in the kitchen, matt continues to dry himself the best he could, giving near a quick look over as he did so. ironically enough, staying inside seemed to keep near safe and he’s glad for it. they weren’t all accounted for, however, and that’s what keeps him on edge.  

  ❝ thought mello would already be here too. you hear from him at all? ❞

  (  — @restiituo​​​ > @chocoholicsinner​​​   )

      near just nods, looking a little distant. insane, is indeed an understatement, but his mind isn’t supplying him a better word. near puts on a kettle, because that’s something he has a measure of control over. tea is a simple thing, but manageable. the rules of this world do not mirror his own, and so the dangers are much worse. even kira was something they could extend a measure of control over. this is different.

      besides, it’s best to start the tea now, while they still have power. he doesn’t think there’s a pattern to the electricity flickering in and out, but he isn’t yet sure. he’s been counting the minutes in the back of his mind each time it happens, because numbers make sense.

      “ no, i haven’t heard from him since we agreed to meet up here. ”

      somewhere in his chest, something is twisting, sick, and he can’t tell if it’s worry for their situation in general, or just for mello, who is still, presumably, outside somewhere. mello doesn’t live far, so really, he should have gotten here first. so his heart pounds merrily along and his fingers tap a mute rhythm on the teacups he’s pulled from a cabinet.

      “ i’m sure he’s well on his way, ” he says, and pretends matt is the only one he’s reassuring.

( @chocoholicsinner​ – @jeevastm​ )

It does take him a while to get there. The weather doesn’t help the situation; he doesn’t want to go see Near, doesn’t want to team up with him at all. It’s not like they’d agreed on what was going to happen, but Mello was serious about making sure that they helped in whatever way they could.

(It probably had something to do with that martyr complex. He’s not going to think about it much now, however.)

Mello’s eyes are on Near’s door, and he knocks once before coming in without answer. “The world’s gone to shit,” he says by way of greeting, running a hand through wet blond hair. He’s got his signature scowl on, and his boots are making a squeaking sound against the floor. Grating. “What are we going to do about it?”

  it takes another moment of silence to pass before the motion from mello is made and he starts off. enough to keep close but not to intrude in on his space, matt wordlessly follows behind him. didn’t he always, though?  following and listening; making himself available to mello whenever he needed him. a promise to help mello achieve his endeavors. the difference now, was… well, they weren’t running into a dumpster fire for the greater good.

  the word chocolate cause the gears in his brain to pause. without missing a beat, he pulls out the solid bar from his plastic bag. matt couldn’t help the subtle upturn of his lips as he held the bar up. ❝ … y’mean— this? usually do. ❞  it was convenient timing, really, because matt was already working on his way to suck it up and try to reconcile with mello at some point of the week. luckily for him, the situation just happened to present itself sooner than he thought. 

  stepping a little closer, he places the treat in mello’s free hand. ❝ got the one you like. ❞

Mello takes the chocolate bar immediately and opens it, tearing the wrapper with his teeth. He winces a little, his jaw hurts, but he doesn’t want to admit he got the shit kicked out of him that badly. As he bites down into it he lets out a soft sigh, his one eye that isn’t covered closing. It’s nice that Matt knows him this well, and though he won’t admit it to anyone it comforts him.

“Yeah,” Mello says, taking another bite. It is one of his favorites, which isn’t the least bit surprising to him. “You did.”