middaeg | Give Me Shelter, the Night is Dark [Closed]

[The only thing Mello isn't concealing when he and Alex show up at the door is the rather sizeable of extremely cheap vodka he's procured for this occasion. There's no way in hell he's wasting a good bottle of cognac when they've got so much more to work with.]

[Adrenaline is rushing through his veins like something vapid, and he only hopes it's not rubbing off on his Bonded. He throws Alex a look as his boot-heels click against the floor when they approach the door. She's got all of the responsibility thrown on her, after all.]

You can back out now, you know.

[And he means it. He's asking a lot of her.]

I wouldn't hold it against you.

[ She meets his restless energy with calm, smiling at him before she responds by knocking on the door. ]

Chimera.

[ Alex wasn’t going to come this far just to back down, especially if she could finally do something for them. Sure, she had her concerns, other than the contents of M’s bags. She’d be lying that she’s still not sure if she can really keep things civil either, but she would feel worse if she didn’t at least try.

When Linden opens the door, the smile turns to him in greeting, more relieved to see that he decided to still come. ]

Thanks for coming, Linden.

[The door opens. It's bright inside; L has every lamp and overhead light turned on. There isn't a single shadow in the room, really, though the drapes are drawn; the impression is that it's tiny, claustrophobic, impossible to hide in.

He meets Alex's eyes, nods stiffly. He was always going to see it through; it's his wont, for better or worse. It made him the world's greatest at his craft, and killed him handily.

He's not trusting. He's not happy. He's at least amenable and tolerant as he stands aside to permit both of them entry, glances toward the one creaky bed in the room that has seen better days.]

Line up what you brought, on the counter... the goal is dead senses, and vivid dreams, and so... whatever does that for you is what you should imbibe in.

[He goes to the window, staring at the curtain; there's not really room to pace, and so this is the next best thing.]

Edited 2021-05-05 03:08 (UTC)

[And if Mello were alone, he would be wide-eyed, speechless at L's feet after what happened between them. But he's got a facade to keep up — he can't look weak in front of Alex — and so he hums something of an agreement, does his best to relax the tension in his shoulders, his spine.]

I need both of you to pay attention. [Mainly, L, since Alex is more graceful and doesn't need to be told not to be a complete asshole. He lays the potions out first — three in a straight line — and in front of them, he methodically placed down the rest. Far enough apart that they can't be confused, and at the end, the large bottle of vodka.]

I don't want us to fuck this up. [He points to the first bag; a collection of oblong pills.] Opiates. I don't know which sort they would equate to in our worlds, but I've been assured that they're potent. [The next, a smaller bag of rounded pills — ] The equivalent of benzodiazapines. They're derived from Valerian root here, so I don't know how effective they are, but they're not bullshit. [Third. A larger bag of a fine, powdery substance, white-ish pink in color.] Dimethyltryptamine. It contains both a psychedelic and melatonin. [And he sounds as though he's teaching a class.]

We need to sleep. Hard.

[Mello nods towards the counter.] The combination of these with the vodka will ensure we have no other option.

[As he glances at Alex. This is a lot. His decisions are his own. L knows enough about science and chemical reactions in the body. Even though she's agreed, Mello still feels a pang of guilt at the layout.]

Don't ask me how I got it all, either of you.

[And that's that.]

Edited 2021-05-05 03:17 (UTC)

[ The tension seems to have doubled, and maybe it may have to do with being bonded to M. What more with Linden added to the mix.

She eyes the items laid out and, he’s right, it’s a lot. She knows enough to know that drugs and alcohol aren’t a great mix, but that was kind of the point, wasn’t it?

M’s explanation helped, at least, with figuring which may be less extreme for her. Opiates never seemed to be good news, and Alex didn’t need anything egging on her hallucinations. ]

Should we do the temp bond first then...?

Let's.

[L had taken in the explanation of the heavy and serious drugs silently. Nothing out of his ballpark, really; he's done this before. The slight man has tipped his tolerance past what's sustainable and dipped into oblivion; in truth, he likes it, chases it, misses it.

He still reaches for the vodka, the cheapest bottle in the whole lot, and takes a swig to take the edge off this.]

Who am I Bonding with, first?

[Alex and Mello already have it; L is the outlier, the stranger locked out of their emotions shared and separate. The boundaries need to be trampled, and the only thing to decide is the order.]

Me.

[Absolution; it's always been Mello's forte'. He takes one potion, hands it to L. Hands the third one off to Alex.]

She and I are already bonded.

[As he pulls the cork, tips the small bottle to his lips and swigs it all back as though it were expensive cognac. It burns going down, but so will the rest of it. Without another word, he goes about taking two of the opiates, two of the benzodiazapines, and the other — he draws out a small razor, cuts a small line on the surface, and when he inhales — ]

[Christ, this can kill them all, can't it? He lays the razor down, takes the vodka for a swig. Whatever's about to hit him is going to knock him on his ass, he's sure.]

[ Alex takes the bottle, but she keeps her attention on them both. M’s reaction to their bond wasn’t ideal, so she sticks close just in case. ]

[L wants to be gone, and hidden, away from any who ask or require of him to deliver.

He turns away from them both, tips it back, fully swallows the larger portion to account for two temporary bonds when the others only have to contend with one. He has to breathe between swallows, and worry, whether there will be space in his stomach for the rest of what he needs to kill the light and sound.]

Your turn...

[Mello first, then Alex. He's a ready receptacle, even as three Bonds already light him up and drain him down at equilibrium. Even for one night, another witch and monster will strain the fabric of his being.

Once the potion is down, he reaches for the vodka bottle, thin arms pulling it inward toward his chest.]

Edited 2021-05-05 04:03 (UTC)

[While he watches L with a keen eye, Mello's attention is fully on Alex right now. He doesn't know what this temporary bond entails; they're all taking a chance, here. What if she inherits L's disdain for him, what if it turns out to be two against one before they even hit the bed? He's on guard, and so he does the only thing he can think to do: slips a hand over her shoulder, presses his lips to her cheek. The powder is already starting to fuzz his vision, make his head feel light.]

[Fast acting, the way it was delivered. He knows.]

Don't you fucking turn on me, [He mutters against skin, but L is close enough to hear. To see. To feel everything.]

[ An arm goes around to steady him, her lips pressed into a line at his words. He’s said this enough times that she no longer sees it as a threat or a warning, but more of a plea. Linden seemed to have the same idea, that one would be chosen over the other.

She brings the potion to her lips and downs it. The magic spreads, waiting to make the connection. ]

[At any moment, he'll start to feel their presence, the creep of their souls against his. In the meantime, he keeps his eyes on the room's lit corners and crevices, points of focus, spots where he can see the lines and contours in harmony.

He has no protector, here. He swallows, and as he does, several ounces of liquor go down, several pills. He does it discreetly in the hopes that it won't look reckless. Anyone who knows these substances would take one look at his slight frame, those combinations and reactions, and pull the plug.

It's rather the point, though. To be under, just out of reach of a helping hand, can only benefit them, and L is reckless in his conviction and consumption.

He takes a modest amount, objectively. It's alarming, considering his body mass and general health. He knows; he's aware as he bends to press a nostril and inhale a line of stars and atoms.

He backs toward the bed, edges toward the left side. His eyes are fixed fully on the ceiling as though galaxies are contained, there.

It's an adequate distraction from the new Bonds that crowd and crush him. His breathing is short and uneven.]

[And if someone had warned him how quickly a bond with someone he'd literally just tried to kill would hit, Mello would have thought twice about the drugs. But they haven't, so he didn't, and now he's gripping Alex's arm as he watches L retreat, and the paranoia isn't only his own. Can't be. Both of them are a threat to each other, but the warm comfort of his true Bonded's presence keeps him as balanced as he needs to be. He narrows his eyes at the bottle in L's hand; Alex hasn't quite finished yet.]

Mh —

[He meanders over to his idol with no threat at all — he doesn't have it in him with the way everything is threatening just at the edges of kicking in — and reaches for the vodka. His stance, his eyes, his movements are soft. Distracted with the way he's focused on both of them, the way the walls take on an almost wavy structure. The psychedelic, he reminds himself.]

She needs to wash it all down, [He reminds L, and for just one second — less, even — it's the two of them, and some sort of familiarity strikes him about this room.]

[ She held back, partly to keep herself steady enough to watch them make it to the bed safely. Once they do, she finishes the rest of the potion, which hits her a bit harder with the combination of turbulent feelings. The drugs muddle them down, and she takes the benzos to wash down with vodka. They probably should have packed water.

She walks over to them, taking the bottle from L to place on the side table and making sure M isn’t too close to the edge of the bed. The bed creaking under her weight as falls to sit on it, the combination of drugs and the sudden bond dizzying. She’s not even aware anymore when she drops onto the bed, feeling her consciousness fade.]

[L parts with the bottle like one half-asleep and sticky, one already gone. To some extent, it's true; he's curled at the edge of the left side of the bed. He has no true Bonded here, no food in his stomach, no flesh on his bones to help metabolize what he's swallowed.

He wants for someone, now. As he draws shallow breaths, he's not sure who; Light, who he could certainly screw? Myr, who loves him but would wait on the edges forever for him?

He stays on his side, reaches a hand back, for one of them, either of them. The potion should do the work; the two of them will still be able to join him in spite of their commitment and care.]

[And Mello is the last to crawl onto the overused mattress, over the both of them. It's with a soft thud that his back hits the wall, and there's that protective streak in him that makes him worried for both of them, even if he, himself, is far from all right.]

[There's no thought to it; one arm goes around Alex, dragging her close with all of the strength he can muster (which isn't much), and his free hand — L is alone — (did he die alone, back then? Like Mello did?) and he feels the pull at his chest that he can only think is an emptiness born of the new bond, this deep, hollow chasm where something should be.]

[He takes the man's hand without thinking, idly drawing a nail over his wrist in some form of comfort that he's completely incapable of giving. His nose is buried in Alex's hair, his hand is on his ex-mentor, and the three of them are — ]

[Christ. How did they get here?]

Oi, [To L, against Alex] M'sorry I went after you.

[ She’s pulled closer towards M, her back to him. It’s comforting, anchoring her somewhat as the her head spins, a feeling of need creeping through her connection to Linden. She reaches out to grip his sleeve, her hand brushing against M’s as he holds onto him as well.

Finned ears twitch as M speaks behind her, though the words barely register. ]

[Mello's words are distant; with Alex already out and L fading fast, the show is officially on the road, and no response he could give would be coherent, let alone meaningful. His tongue is thick and heavy; the best he can manage is a curl of his fingers against Mello's hand.

The fact that they're here, at all, is some shape of forgiveness and grace. Should they all go under and wake afterward without incident, however, there's still much that can go wrong with layers of their subconsciouses peeling away like rotted wallpaper in some ancient, decaying ruin.

When his eyes open, a downpour is pelting his shoulders, and his white shirt and jeans are drenched in seconds. A single oar is in his hands; on these rough, choppy waters, his craft appears to be a tiny rowboat, threatened by each larger wave.

Perhaps he shouldn't have stressed the importance of being able to dream vividly on demand, so much. It's exactly what he asked for, just terrifying, and excessive, immediately and obviously perilous when L's dreams tend to hide their dangers deeper.]

[Water. There's water all around him, and Mello isn't Mello; not in the sense of any way either of them would know him now. He's fifteen, and he's got the weight of the world of his shoulders. And he's so fucking happy to see L.] a

[His idol is such a large figure before him, and the water around them is as fluid as it is threatening, but he's safe, right now. L wouldn't put him in danger.]

Where are we going?

Edited 2021-05-06 02:33 (UTC)

[ When Alex comes to, it’s because she hears voices above her. Her body is light, comfortable beneath the waves. a With her hearing amplified, she picks up on M’s voice—-but it sounds different, younger, happier.

The boat rocks turbulent waters, rain pouring down hard. Through the bonds she can feel the mismatching emotions—-one relieved while the other was tense, anxious. She floats upwards, pressing her hand against the bottom of the boat. The merrow wasn’t sure if they’d notice her presence, but she tries calm Linden at least, letting him know she’s there. ]

[L takes a moment to see if he can find land on the horizon, any sign or shape of something that isn't just torrents of rain or massive, threatening waves.

When he's glance back to the space across from him in the boat, it's occupied. One no more than fifteen, still wide-eyed and trusting, is looking back at him, asking him about the destination.

It's disconcerting, but not unwelcome. Mello's not angry, not lit up in flame. The world hasn't disappointed him yet, to the point where he can focus on the incredible parts of being in the center of a storm with a man he looks up like a deity.]

Land... or a passing ship, if we're lucky.

[Beneath them, there's a bump on the bottom of the water, solid, different from the water rocking and pitching their craft.]

Did you feel that?

[A dream this vivid can lapse in and out of lucidity. L feels that someone else should be here, which might be why his mind goes first to something living that moves under its own will, and not merely some floating bit of debris.]

[And Mello's brows furrow — yes, he did feel that, in more ways than one, though he doesn't quite understand why. A rock or passing large fish, maybe, but there's also a warmth on his skin that shouldn't be present on these cold waters that coincides with the contact on their small boat.]

[He leans over the side — child that he is — and pats his hand against the wavy water, trying to draw whatever it is out so they can at least see. Didn't feel like a rock, really. At least he doesn't think so.]

You think it's a dolphin?

[Could be a shark, so he leans back on his haunches, ready to spring back if necessary.]

[ She’s not quite sure why she hides, but she pulls to the opposite end when she feels the weight shift. That they haven’t said anything about her, and the way they were speaking, were they not aware of what they were doing?

The hand that breaches the water briefly is smaller from what she could recall too. Dreams had a weird way of creating situations, so maybe this was part of it. Whatever M wanted to deal with...maybe it had to do with him at this age. All the more reason for Alex to lay low, let things unfold without her influence until necessary.

Admittedly, a part of her still felt like she was intruding, but she kept those feelings in check. ]

[The size would be about right for a dolphin, L thinks, glancing toward the dark and choppy waves.]

Don't put your hand in the water... I don't want you to get hurt.

[Spoken softly, stiffly.]

Do you have an oar? Is there one near you, at your feet, or...

[Or am I the only one steering this boat?]

[And Mello leans back from the edge; he's being something resembling obedient, though it might only be because L is older — he has to know better when it comes to... everything. Still, he eyes the water out of the corner of his vision curiously as he searches beneath the wooden seat.]

[Yea, there's an oar. Though his arms are small and lanky and the chances of him keeping up are slim to none. But Mello's never been the one to avoid at least trying.]

I've got one, [He announces with the pride of someone's who's just discovered a treasure. He's never rowed a boat before, but he knows enough to grip it as tightly as possible and sink it into the water on the opposite side.]

You have... that's good.

[Neither of them really have arms for rowing. It's a dream, though, and much of what shouldn't be possible somehow manages to be. The only limits are imposed by the mind, which might or might not always be lucid and can easily lose sight of it given the wild sights and sensations at hand.]

Have you done this before, or anything like it?

[Not really an offered course at Wammy's, he supposes.]

If not... the concept of teamwork, surely, is known to you.

[Admitting that he doesn't know how to do something is a sign of weakness, but it's not in him to go against L. At least not right now, not in this state, and his mentor should know that the concept of team work is lost on him. They're all out for themselves, always have been. Competition was always the way to go.]

[But.]

[He looks out at the water for a moment. It's vast and deep, and whatever that was in the water earlier can't be anything good, he thinks. Fine. Teamwork, then.]

I get the basics. We each have to row on a different side or we'll keep going in circles.

[Mello tightens his mouth and lowers the oar into the water. His arms are thin and not built for this.]

[That was then. Nowadays, teamwork is absolutely the name of the game, the only way anyone was getting where they needed to go. That was true for Mello and Near; it's true now, for Mello and L.

Perhaps it's helpful that Mello is aware, on some level, that he stands no chance against L.

He nods.]

Different sides.

[Different perspectives.

As the adult, his scrawny arms are by default the stronger ones. He pulls the heaviest stroke he can manage, and something peculiar is happening on the horizon past his sharp profile.

The sun is setting, plunging into dusk. L's side of the sky is darkening and taking the light away with it (it will always be that way), but perhaps something reciprocal, opposite, and balanced is meant to happen when Mello rows, as well.]

[The first stroke isn't in tandem — Mello wasn't built for physical labor — but he does his best to keep their rowing as even as possible, even with his small stature and bones.]

[The sky draws his attention, but he's always been a multitasker. He keeps on, noting that the sky over his side of the boat isn't quite as dark. Is it a storm? Something worse? There are clouds on his side, but they're white and jagged and don't obstruct the sun at all. Which... he wishes they would. The sun is hard on his pale skin.]

[A wave rocks the boat slightly, but he's got his heels pressed hard into the wood, and he doesn't intend on falling overboard. That would be failure.]

Why are we out here? [Still peering at the horizon. L should know. L knows everything.]

[Whether or not the technique or the synchronization are perfect doesn't actually seem to matter. The effort is what counts; the intention might as well be muscle.]

Something happened. It was a disaster...

[They both know it, deep down, whether or not L lived to see Near take down Kira, or Mello remembers what was done the last time he was present in Aefenglom.]

So now we're stranded out here. I can trust you to help me get back, right?

[As though he's the only one in need. L uses a similar tactic when relating to Near.]

I wouldn't leave you to die.

[Snapped; part of Mello knows where it comes from him; the other half of him is just a child. He would never leave L to die if he knew of the situation, if he had anything to do with it. He rows harder now. Maybe it's anger, maybe it's determination. His expression certainly expresses the latter.]

[Still, he's curious about that thing he felt beneath the boat. It was something big, something more than a fish or rock. He glances over the side, then back to L. The sky above his mentor is concerning.]

Why is the sky split in half? Look.

[He gestures to his own side.]

What makes you think I'd die out here?

[He asks the question as though he's truly bewildered, and maybe he is. The sea around them might as well be L, after all, grey as his eyes, fickle and shifting with the waves.

L glances at the oars, does his best to keep the strokes in rhythm. The dream is forgiving; they make progress.]

The sky? It's because...

[He falters. He knows.]

Partly, it's because of Light... and partly, it's because of us. I don't mean for you to carry a certain weight, but... I haven't been able to shake it.

[The boat rocks. Beneath them, an anchor seems to have caught the sea floor.]

Sorry. I want to shake it.

[The anchor jolts him; it's so sudden and jarring. But part of Mello — young as he is — knows, but he pushes it away as quickly as it comes. They've stopped. It's as symbolical as it is real (they need to get to shore) and a young boy's eyes widen with both disbelief and understanding. He's not trying to row against it. They're here, and L is, as he's always has been: a mystery.]

You keep mentioning Yagami. [A grit to his young voice.] But what does that have to do with me?

[I was...I am. A kid. No. No. That's not right. He shakes it off like he does everything else. Furrows his brows at his mentor.]

Tell me what to do.

[Eternal soldier. Doesn't L know?]

You gave your life for the case.

[Probably more intentionally than L did. At the end, L had been scrambling to get his blow in, and Light had simply beaten him to it. Mello, conversely, had known that another would carry on in his place, necessarily, because he was unlikely to be able to do it himself.]

Whether or not I have the right to ask it of you... whatever you feel would draw you even with him is an impulse you can't act on. At least... not yet.

[Not ever.

The boat rocks uneasily. They're moving, just slowly, arduously.]

[Mello isn't who he was before the entered this...reality. He's a teenage boy who worships the ground L walks upon, though the actual memories are pushing at the edges of his vision, his consciousness. The eternal soldier (for now), he nods, understands that this is part of the case. And he's still rowing. Trying to get them to shore before L's storm hits.]

I understand.

[Even if he disagrees. What else can he say? He looks upon his mentor with reverent eyes and the knowledge he has, hands tensing on his oar.]

But he's dangerous.

[The sea rises and quells around them. They should reach the shore soon. If they work together.]

We're gonna lose you.

[You already did, L doesn't say out loud. He sighs shallowly, staring over his shoulder at the horizon as it grows ever darker.]

He's dangerous.

[The agreement is low, quiet.]

That goes for all of us as well, though. When it comes to who could do me harm... I'm taking a risk no matter who I consort with.

[He pulls at his oar, pushing back against the choppy waves. He's that kind of person, after all; he can work with a friend or a foe alike, toward a common goal.]

[If L didn't take risks, he wouldn't be the man he is. Both the older boy and the child that Mello is knows this as fact. He continues to row, though the motions are making his arms tense. Sore.]

Me too, yea?

[A child's eyes with a Man's knowledge. But L is the adult, here. Still, they have to make it to shore, no matter the skies.]

[L glances through damp, shaggy bangs at the paradoxical sky. Somewhere above Mello's blond head, as though searching for an answer written there. He sees none, not even in a dream.]

I'd think that it would go without saying.

[You, more than most.]

You'll do anything to get what you want. You've always been that way.

[Mello's eyes follow L's. Part of him understands the split in the skies; part of him is trapped in a child's mindset. He's only thirteen, after all. How could he possibly hurt L?]

Mm.

[And so he's presented with a puzzle, whether or not it's intentional. His rowing has halted as the small, skinny boy assesses his mentor, goes back to things which he both knows and does not. The wind blows his hair into his face; Mello lifts a hand to sweep it away.]

That's how we're supposed to be.

[L set the precedent. The children followed.]

If I gave in, how would I win?

[It's strange that Mello presents as a child, here and now, but dreams are peculiar that way, shaped by far more than physical reality. They play with the time and the place of a life, molded by mood and preoccupation as much as by personality and experiences recent and ingrained.

The wind's picking up. L's simultaneously uneasy about it, and considers it a welcome boon. Should they come across a sail, in some form or manner, they might have something more with which to hasten their journey.]

It's strange... but the only way winning means anything is if someone in the world exists who is capable of beating you. Sometimes it comes down to who wants it more, and sometimes it comes down to who's stronger.

[What happened to L, with Light? Did Light want it more? Was Light stronger? Both, neither? L's still grappling with that question, even now.]

[ Alex made sure not to interfere during the exchange, simply listening in and feeling for any particularly strong emotions. There was so much caution between the two, but it was clear that even at a young age, M was always chasing after L somehow. But L was out of reach, heading a different direction like the oars they tried to row together.

Another thing she noticed was how the environment changed depending on how the conversation was going. More resistance meant more barriers, like the anchor, the waves. At first she was helping to keep them moving, lifting the anchor when they attempted to move forward. But she wonders if it really was so bad to have them slow down, if they weren’t just rushing to get to the end. And yet nothing has been directly said, talking in circles and metaphors.

The merrow hesitates at first, but finally decides to take a hold of the underside of the boat, holding it still with the strength granted to her beneath the waves.

No more chasing or running away. And if the waves become chaotic, she’d make sure they stayed afloat and steady. ]

Edited 2021-07-02 19:20 (UTC)

Give Me Shelter, the Night is Dark [Closed]

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