#Prepared to get sick of me Mello
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Insomnia// L. Lawliet (PT. 1+2)
(chapter 0 here)
After getting dressed, I finally went to the memorial for A. The hallways were quieter than usual. The people in the hallways were weeping, and holding each other in sadness. The people acting the most upset were the employees. Not because of A’s death, but because they lost a primary asset. It makes me sick to my stomach. He would not be happy about this.
I quickly walked out of the hall and into the memorial room. The only people in the room were BB and Quillish, which is good. They’re the only people who really cared about A as a person. BB walked over towards me and put a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, are you gonna be okay?” he asks. I nod, “Are you?”
He looks at me with sorrow and exits the room, leaving me a Quillish to mourn. They didn’t make it an open casket which was a good call. I don’t know what I would do if I saw him dead again. I wish I never ran to A’s room when I heard the scream. I never wanted the last image I saw of him to be that. After getting lost in my thoughts, Quillish walked towards me and smiled.
“Hello C, how are you today.” he asked. How am I!? “Fine, thanks.” I reply coldly, “How did you even find time to come back here? I thought you were so busy with L and the investigations.” He laughed and waved his hand back and forth, “L isn’t on a case right now, and I simply couldn’t miss the memorial for A. It is my job as a caretaker.” he replied. I scoffed, “What a caretaker you are. You aren’t even here 95% of the time, don’t act like you care about us. All you want is the fame and success of L.”
All Quillish did was look at me hurt and then exit the room. I never meant to say that to him, I’m just emotional from this mess. I know he tries his hardest to keep us safe and give us the things we need to survive. He’s a caring man and I’m just a jerk.
“A little harsh there, cupcake.” I hear a voice say. I turn around. Mello. “What do you want.” I harshly replied. “I’m just here to mourn, and you’re here to be a stick in the mud, as always.” he laughs. I ball my fist and get ready to throw a punch, but he stops me. “That temper of yours really needs to be checked on. You’ll get mad if someone looks at you the wrong way.”
“Whatever, Mello. I don’t care.” I spat, and walked out of the room. God, everyone here is so rude. I can’t stand this place. This place could go up in flames for all I care. The only thing I need is BB.
The rest of the day I laid in bed doing nothing. Many of the employees came in and out all day, but I tuned them out and hummed a song in my head. After a few hours, I passed out due to lack of sleep.
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I woke up that night in a cold sweat. Something felt extremely wrong. I couldn’t pinpoint why. “Hey. C.” BB said. “Wh-what?” I asked while rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “I love you, you know that right?” He says. “It’s too early for this, B.” I yawn. “Never forget me okay?” he asks. “How could I forget you, I see you everyday dummy.” I say, now aware of my surroundings.
He kissed me on the cheek, and then left the room. I’m so confused. What’s going on? “B?” I called out. There was no response. “B!?” I called out again. Still no response. I hopped out of bed and sprinted through the door. Frantically, I searched the building. There was no sign of him. He couldn’t leave me! I already lost A, I can’t lose him. Being all alone was worse than being raised to be a successor. If he leaves I’m all alone, and he’s all alone. “B!” I scream. He’s nowhere to be found.
I screamed his name over and over and over again, but he wasn’t here. He’s gone. “C! What is all this ruckus for!? It’s 4:00 in the morning!” the lady shouted at me. “He’s gone.” I said. “What on earth are you talking about?” She screeched. “BB! He’s gone.” I shouted back. “He couldn’tve escaped, we have tight security!” she stated. “You bred us to be extremely smart, he found a way to get out!” I cried. The lady left in a hurry to get backup, but I know he was long gone.
The morning after BB left, I decided that my only objective right now was to find him. Escape this place, and dedicate my life to finding him. The only question was how. I don’t understand how he got out without anyone noticing. He is very smart, but there are so many guards out front. It would be almost impossible.
Everyday for 5 months I planned and planned. I thought out every possibility and had multiple backup plans in case anything went wrong. I was fully prepared for anything, and I was ready to find BB, and then live my life happily again.
And it would all start tonight
After getting myself ready for the night, I faked sleeping so the employees would leave my door, and then my plan went into action. All I had to do was get out without being seen, and run away as far as I could. It seems really simple, but it’s not. I haven't been in the outside world for 6 years. So much has happened and I don’t think I know the geography well. Sure, I studied maps and street names, but it’ll be different in person.
I waited for the time to hit 2:00. That’s usually when everyone in the building is sleeping or on break, which is the perfect time to escape.
Quickly I grabbed my hoodie, and slipped it on. Then I quietly left my room. As I suspected there were no employees out in the halls. I move swiftly and quietly, making sure as to not be seen or heard. I finally made it to the door, and my plan was finally in action.
The week before, I had stolen one of the female employee’s uniforms. I studied the way they acted and replicated that onto myself. It’s easy to fake being someone else. Opening the front door, I walked out pretending to be worried.
“Ma’am, what are you doing?” one of the guards asked. “It’s, It’s C! She’s gone! I can't seem to find her! Please help!” I said, being dramatic. “Oh god, call backup! Ma’am, did you see where she last went?” he asked. “Yes! I’m going to head in that direction, but she’s smart so we need to take all possible precautions!” I replied. “Yes, of course. Contact us if you find anything!” he said, and headed out.
That was scarily easy, I expected him to be suspicious of me. Weird. It doesn’t matter, I started running ahead. I turned into an alley, and took off the itchy uniform. I did it! I finally escaped from the prison. Recalling the maps, I saw that there was a bar 3 blocks over. After a while of walking, I made it.
I opened the door and everyone in the building looked at me. I guess it’s because I’m so young.. Whatever. “You lost there missy?” some drunk guy yelled from the corner. I ignored him and sat at the counter. “Could I have some water please?” I asked, using the best manners I could. The bartender nodded and went to go make my drink. Being out in public again is so weird. Never in a million years did I think I would be out here. “Here you go.” The bartender said, passing my drink. “Thank you, sir.” I replied. I noticed the TV was on the news channel. It didn’t seem important, so I ignored it. “Dang. Those BB murders are terrible. I hope they catch the guy.” Someone said. I spit out my water.
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King Pedro V 1st Trip (May 28th to September 15th, 1854): England, Part 1.
On May 28th, 1854, at the age of 16, D. Pedro embarked on the Steam Mindelo.
In addition to his brother, the delegation was made up of the marshal-duke of Terceira,
the viscount of Carreia,
the master of mathematics, Filipe Folque,
D. Francisco de Mello (Ficalho), the baron of Sarmento and his private servants.
Up to the end of Finisterre, the steam was escorted by several boats, with the Brazilian ship Mogé following the flight during the whole trip.
The diary that D. Pedro kept, throughout this trip, is detailed. Because, on board, little happened, the first pages are laconic. The prince recorded only the time when he boarded the Arsenal, the moment when the bay of Cascais passed, the wind - from the north - that blew, the ships that accompanied him out of the bar. After what he said with pride: “From the entourage, everyone, except me, the Duke [da Terceira], the viscount [da Carreira], Folque and José Maria got sick. The chaplain did not get sick.” Then he wrote down the latitude and longitude. On the 30th of May, he wrote: “We are sailing in excellent weather, with a frank, pleasant wind. […] By observing the azimuth of the Sun, it is concluded that the variation of the needle is 24º NO.” On June 2nd, Mindelo arrived in Southampton. It was 11 o'clock at night, when D. Pedro received, on board, the visit of the Portuguese ambassador Lavradio,
as well as several personalities, among them the colonel Wylde
(field assistant to Prince Albert), who knew Portugal well, for having been here for a few months in the service of the British crown.
The next day, the princes took a train to a station near London, where they were awaited by Prince Albert,
and proceeded to Buckingham Palace,
where Queen Victoria
was waiting for them.
The calendar was such as to make the strongest fade. But, as D. Pedro said, the trip was prepared “not for my hobby, but for my education and with the purpose of better qualifying me to direct the destinies of the people that I must govern.” Thinking that he would come to rewrite the diary, he was taking notes, in a hurry, putting in brackets things that he would like to explore. Here is what he wrote on arrival in England: “The 3rd of June dawned and the steam Mindelo was entering the beautiful dock in Southampton. (Describe the dock and the ships that were in it, not forgetting the Madalena steam).” The future was going to play a trick on him: the parenthesis would never be developed.
Anyway, everything - facts, feelings, opinions - is described in great detail. Here is how the reception notes on arrival at the royal palace: “It was noon when we entered Buckingham Palace. The Queen and Duchess of Kent were waiting for us on the stairs, and shortly afterwards Princesses Victoria, Alice, Helena and Luisa and Princes Albert and Alfred.” He continued: “We saw the garden, which is beautiful because of its disposition rather than its intrinsic qualities.” Upon returning from the walk, a servant appeared, announcing the arrival of the Duke of Wellington, the son of the general who had fought against the French in Portugal. Then, with some of the English princes present, they went to lunch.
D. Pedro started a relationship - with Uncle Albert - that would prove to be extraordinarily important. On that first day, Queen Victoria's husband showed him his library, drawing his attention to Gauer's work on the Natural History of Birds in Australia, which the two leafed through with pleasure. In the afternoon D. Pedro went to visit the Duchess of Gloucester,
the Duchess of Cambridge
and the Duchess of Kent,
after which Colonel Wylde showed him some pictures belonging to the British crown: “Although the light is not good at the time I visited the gallery [note that, in its reflections, there is always a catch] I was able to see and admire several paintings by Rubens (one of great dimensions), Rembrandt, Mieris, Dow, Potter, Van Dyck, Wouwermann, etc.” In the palace garden, where he spent with Queen Victoria, D. Pedro saw a “beautiful example of Lophoohorus Imperyanus.”
The light of the British capital did not attract him: “London is nothing poetic; it is enveloped in a veil of fog and smoke, which, from time to time, lets you see a whitish sun, which is very far from looking like our beautiful midday sun.” If the climate left him badly impressed, the same cannot be said of the city's movement: “The aspect of the city is great and there is a movement in it that the inhabitants of Lisbon cannot imagine. The streets were constantly filled with carriages with splendid equipment, cars full of goods, extravagantly shaped cabs. In all, you can see the commercial wealth, the main cause of the prosperity of the British Isles.” At 8 pm, he went to dinner with the queen, after which he went to the theater to see a fragment of Molière's Mariage Impossible. So it ended - and what a hustle and bustle! - D. Pedro's first day in England.
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the beauty and the terror
I’ve been contemplating starting a blog for a long time now, but felt paralyzed with terror because I couldn’t find a great opening post topic. This week, the topic found me. I’ve had the draft saved with my finger hovering over the “post now” button for a few days. So, here it goes.
My first post is about my most recent brush with beauty and terror, best encapsulated, I think, in the mystical words of the poet Ranier Maria Rilke:
Let everything happen to you
Beauty and terror
Just keep going
No feeling is final
In one of my favorite books of all time, Awareness, Anthony de Mello ponders and unpacks those non-final, fleeting moments in life - he points to the fact that our cells live and die so often that we have to wonder, who am “I” after all? Was I the same person I was in the past? No. Not physically, at least, but isn’t our “consciousness” also comprised of a neural network made up of cells? So we are also not our feelings or our emotions. As a matter of fact, we have to liberate ourselves from our experiences altogether if we are to be fully present in the here and now, or we become hijacked by the filters that create our reality. This becomes even more interesting when we consider how many of our memories may be false or fabricated. How much of my past did I dream? How much did I experience in consciousness? “Don’t carry over experiences from the past... don’t carry over good experiences from the past either. Learn what it means to experience something fully, then drop it and move on to the next moment, uninfluenced by the previous one.... You’d know what eternal life is, because eternal life is now, in the timeless now.” In this book, de Mello suggests, no demands, that the reader, “Wake up”. Wake up to how we filter reality. Wake up to our excuses. Wake up and be aware.
I’ve always taken this book very seriously, but it became more important to me when I experienced my first pregnancy loss. The week before Christmas 2017, we experienced major emotional and physical whiplash; we were excited about the possibilities of the new life I was growing. We had told our family and friends, and like a lot of mothers-to-be, I was already dreaming about all of the amazing and absolutely terrifying ways our lives would change. I had spent my 20s and most of my 30s focused on my teaching and playing career, my health, and music. It was time to take care of someone else and I was looking forward to a new chapter (that I thought about my life then in terms of chapters is preposterous and that is worth another blog post). But the Universal Creator had different plans for us, as He typically does. At 12 weeks into my pregnancy and three days before Christmas, I had a miscarriage on the other side of the country and felt a tremendous sense of loss and confusion. In the ER, I could only hold tightly to E’s hand and eeck out, “Our little kumquat...” I was really shocked. I felt as if no one understood - I was grateful for the kindness of everyone around me, but at the same time, I felt as if they were too afraid to give me any comfort or love. Now I know that that is no one else’s responsibility but my own.
Much to my surprise (and other women who have lost babies or children probably grok this), many ordinary and mundane things in life became very difficult. Particularly because it was Christmas. I found I couldn’t really think about the future at all. Holiday traditions and cheer seemed trite and fabricated. I fought back breakdowns whenever I was around children of any age. Drops would well up in my eyes whenever anyone started talking about their dreams of getting pregnant or starting families. I sat amidst the glee and celebration screaming inside, “HEY!!! CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I’M STILL HERE AND DONT YOU KNOW WHAT IM FEELING!?!??!?!” I would go to the bathroom bleeding, cramping, and sad as I waited for the miscarriage to finish playing out to its gruesome end. I was ashamed to burden others with my uncomfortable tears. I will never forget how I reached into the toilet to touch, pick up, and say goodbye to what I believe was the last of the tissue that remained.
In the days afterward, I came across what would become a well-loved piece by Brian Andreas:
This is how I came to see that first baby - as an angel who was with me so briefly, but made such a terrific impact on my life. An angel, who most certainly prodded me to “wake up” in a de Mello sense. Immediately upon my return home, I said my goodbye to her and started healing (and it’s still happening). I felt an enormous calling to help and to heal others too; in the process of healing with Craniosacral Therapy (CST), I decided to study it myself and enrolled in massage therapy school. CST helped me to fully experience that pain and grief, down to the mitochondria of my cells, through my fascia, through my very center. When my inner spirit sensed the healing presence of Erin, my therapist, emotions bubbled up through my solar plexus, through my left hip, my ribs, my sternum. They still do, even today. As an additional part of my healing, I dragged myself to talk therapy for a whole year. My counselor recommended EMDR, using vibration and aural cues because I’m a musician. Through this therapy I finally fully experienced some trauma that I had hidden, buried in my tissues. I came to realize and acknowledge that I had not held proper space for myself and my loss. I had been remiss in thinking that life should go according to my plans, that the world owes me certain things, that I have even a tiny bit of control over my path. The worst is that I held so much shame for all of the things I thought I had failed at in my life. I couldn’t live my pop rocks life because I was looking externally for validation that I was worthy in this world - I was looking everywhere but inside my own spirit. I believe this is what also attracted me to academia, a field where accolades, accomplishments, and the correct lines on your vitae become a measure of your life’s work. That was a tough pill to swallow, but I’ve come to terms with that realization. I’m still healing today in other ways and I probably always will be.
This week, I was gifted a second angel. Even though she is gone now, I will always think of her as Eliza Jane. We conceived her without really intending to around New Years in New Orleans. I love walking down Magazine Street toward the Quarter. When we would walk by the hotel, I would admire its historic, embossed vertical sign. I offhandedly told E that I would love to name a hypothetical daughter Eliza Jane. Two weeks later, I would learn that she was already there.
Early miscarriage is very common. Statistically speaking, 1 in 4 confirmed pregnancies end (that they know of). So - why don’t we talk about it? Why do I feel embarrassed and ashamed that I am part of this statistic? The answer explains why this post stayed in draft form for so long.
I drove myself to the ER this week, in pain and bleeding. My midwife suggested that I go if I was concerned and if I wanted a quick answer. The answer was not good, but.... I knew the answer already. I had felt the absence in my body, the little tug at my heart when her life left me. I won’t say that it was easier this time, but I knew what to expect. I knew what the pain would feel like; I would not be taken off-guard by the waves of grief and sadness, the emptiness, and in some ways, the feelings of loneliness and alienation. I was able to hold space for myself this time, to sit in silence, to be in my own home, my own bathroom. I didn’t have to speak to anyone. E was with me and we were together. These two losses have brought us closer together. As I laid in the ultrasound room, unable to see the images that the silent technician kept from my view, I renewed the gratitude in my heart that the Universe brought E and me together. It may sound like a sappy cliche, but this is the only way I can put my love for him into words right now: the threads of grief in our souls are so "bare” when they are left alone, but when weaved together, make us inseparable and stronger than ever before.
When I got home from the hospital, I planted myself in bed to mentally prepare for the night ahead. Our scrappy, stray cat, Tikky, crawled into bed with me. She rarely does that. As I writhed in bed and moaned in pain, she planted herself next to me. Sprawled out against my belly, she stayed. Although I thrashed about, she remained, wide awake and concerned. Even in that moment, I was so present and grateful for her healing energy. She reminded me that the sick and pained don’t have to crawl into the corner, to lick their wounds alone. The strongest survive with the help and love of others. She sent me light in her own way, without saying anything at all. This is one of the many things I have learned from cats.
I’m sharing this story with the hope that it reaches others who have been through a similar experience. To you - you are not alone. Would this be different if I had a stillborn or if I lost an infant? No. Not according to my belief system. After the worst was over, I woke up before dawn to hear a robin trilling outside my window. In my world, nothing is a coincidence.
If you have not had this experience, open your eyes to those around you who are suffering in silence. Wake up. Just as someone communicates joy and celebration with new life and new possibilities, there is also someone who is crying and mourning the loss of a life. There are also those who did not want to create life and decide to end it (or they don’t). This isn’t just confined to miscarriage - there are people struggling around you. You must assume they are doing their best and it is not their responsibility to make you feel happy with your life. If you find yourself riled up or offended because of someone else’s struggle, or what you feel to be their failures or incompetencies, just ask yourself - am I taking this personally? I ask myself that question often - that is part of the process of waking up. It’s the process of leading a more compassionate life. Death surrounds us and it is part of a cycle that is repeating. There’s something comforting to me about the cycles of life. My cycle, that of the earth and moon, and the seasons. Your cells die, they shed, they turn over. It does not happen to us, it is us.
Of course, we should be happy. We should experience bliss and joy and scream it from the mountaintops, all others be damned! But can’t we also show our heartbreak, sadness, grief, and despair? Instead of turning and running from the pain, what if we leaned into the uncomfortable and said something. ANYTHING. Say you’re sorry. Ask if they are okay. Say that you don’t know what to say, but you are here to talk. Be there in silence. Be a shoulder or a hug. Hold space for them in your heart. Reach out. That’s something. Let yourself see the terror and the beauty, because if you don’t, your life will consist only of coincidences and you may miss the angels who are helping you along the way to wake up so that you do not miss your life.
Tikky didn’t leave me to lick my wounds alone. She nestled in and hunkered down right next to the pain. She leaned into it and sat there patiently through my tears and gibberish. Just as I am here to do for you, my friend.
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102. Knuckles the Echidna #14
The Chaotix Caper (Part Two of Three): A Tenuous Grip on Reality!
Writer: Ken Penders
Pencils: Manny Galan
Colors: Barry Grossman
So the very first page of this issue reveals something about Charmy that I think absolutely no one ever saw coming.
That's right - Charmy the Bee is a freaking prince of the bee realm! Apparently, however, he absolutely hated the idea of it for unexplained reasons, and ran away from home. His flashbacks get weirder and weirder, with voices seeming to scream at him from the void to run away, and we zoom out to see that this is just a hallucination or dream that he's experiencing while in the hospital, being treated for his, ahem, Lemon Sundrop Dandelion poisoning. The doctors are talking about how his body is "fighting off the antibiotics," which is just nonsensical given that it wasn't even bacteria that caused him to become sick, and talk about possibly giving him a "complete transfusion" but don't elaborate on what kind of transfusion, leaving me with the bizarre mental image of them sucking him dry and replacing every single drop of blood in his body with donor blood. Julie-Su sits nearby and asks if they'll be all right, to which Remington again presses just how much Lemon Sundrop Dandelion is suuuuper toxic.
Don't do drugs, kids! 'Cause you know who's behind this? Why, Renfield T. Rodent and Ebony Hare, of course! Ebony is furious with Renfield, because apparently, Renfield has been loading up the chili dogs at Happyland with their "special sauce" laced with the drug, and that's what's been causing the series of poisonings. Lemon Sundrop Dandelion is addictive in small quantities, but toxic in large amounts.
Renfield defends himself by saying that if people ask for more sauce, he'll give it to them, and tries to intimidate Ebony with a musclebound bodyguard of his own. However, Ebony's own bodyguard punches Renfield's once and he goes down, leaving Ebony free to intimidate Renfield into using only a little bit of sauce at a time. Boy, this is riveting stuff, isn't it? Who else is glued to their seat in fascination with this plotline? Anyone invested in the illegal dealings of Renfield T. Rodent and Ebony Hare yet?
Back in the hospital, Charmy's hallucinations continue, showing us how once he ran from his family, he also ran from Saffron, another bee who was concerned for him, and bumped into his pal Mello, whom he spilled his plans to.
I suppose this is meant to give extra weight to Mello's death, by showing him to have been a close friend of Charmy's in the past, and while I can definitely see how it would affect Charmy, it really doesn't have a lot of impact considering that the very first time we ever saw him, he was literally dead on the ground. No time to get to know and care about him, man. Charmy continued to fly away, and upon reaching the Floating Island, met and made friends with Mighty the Armadillo right away. In the present time, Mighty wakes up from his stupor, and immediately begins to lift hospital beds off the floor with the freaked-out nurse on them, for… reasons? Well, at least we know he's okay, I guess.
Meanwhile, Remington and Julie-Su have headed out to Happyland to investigate some more, and Renfield, sensing trouble, rushes out to reassure them everything is a-okay.
Despite Renfield somehow managing to implant doubt in their head about how toxic his food is, Ebony, watching from his office, orders his bodyguard to kill him once the first test run of the special sauce is complete. Great way to earn clout as a business partner, bro, just murder everyone who works for you as soon as they're no longer useful!
We get a quick flash to Knuckles in this issue. Turns out the lights and sounds approaching him from before were created by a gang of bears on motorcycles, because… you know what, sure, not even gonna question this one. Locke and Sabre watch approvingly as Knuckles proceeds to beat the crap out of all of them, even though they didn't actually seem to be making an aggressive approach towards him, just driving by…?
…sure, he's the hero, so it's justified probably! Locke suggests that he can get Archimedes to guide Knuckles properly in his power, while Sabre points out yet again that Locke should be the one instructing his own son. At this point, I like Sabre a lot more than Locke - he's got the right idea about a parent actually, y'know, taking an active role in their kid's life rather than manipulating them from the shadows. Back in the hospital, Vector starts waking up from his bad trip as well, but Charmy is seizing in his sleep, so the doctors rush to prepare him for surgery, even though I can't really imagine a surgery involving cutting someone open would help cure poison. Whatever, I'm not a doctor. Outside, Harry the cabbie is approached by what seems like a new fare, but instead none other than General Stryker enters his cab.
Dude, what is your problem? You can't have literally every member of your society be soldiers - that's just not how civilization works, man. If everyone's focused on being this great fighter in an army, who's left to drive the cabs, cook the food, clean the streets and so on? You're all pissy about one guy deciding to take a job driving cabs around the city? As far as I'm concerned, Harry is the first really likable dingo we've met. A few minutes after Stryker leaves the cab, Remington and Julie-Su show up, and Remington is able to bribe Harry with a promise of erasing some of his unpaid parking tickets in return for information on where Happyland is getting its supply of toxic-ass chili sauce. Harry, ever the resourceful one, drives them to where Ebony is conducting his business, and Julie-Su poses as a potential buyer, being led into the building blindfolded while Remington watches from afar. However, things go sour almost immediately as they don't buy Julie-Su's story at all.
Don't take off your blindfold, idiot, they put it on you for a reason! Once you see their faces, it's all over! The receiver Remington is listening in with goes dead, and he begins to fret. Even as Harry tries to reassure him that Julie-Su is tough enough to handle herself, we see Ebony's bodyguard throwing Julie-Su off the top story of the building…
#nala reads archie sonic preboot#archie sonic#archie sonic preboot#sonic the hedgehog#kte 14#writer: ken penders#pencils: manny galan#colors: barry grossman
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Can you do a fluffy story based on prompt 11 or 12 on mello from death note? Pretty please mon cherie?
Prompt: 11.“I’ll always be there to protect you.”
I madethis angsty I’m so sorry I don’t know how to do fluff any moreapparently.
Livingin the same house as Mihael Keehl was difficult.
Younever knew when the next ambush would arrive. You never knew when youwould have to pack up your guns and get ready to leave, get ready tokill people, just like you had been trained to do over the past fewmonths.
Nothingwas ever easy, but you had prepared yourself for that. You hadn’tgrew up in a place like Wammy’s, with people like Mihael and Lawliet,to simply not be a ruthless mastermind.
WhereLawliet and Near had taken the more peaceful route with theirintelligence, choosing to hide behind computer screens and voicedisguises, you, Mello and Matt had taken the route you were alwaysdestined to be on – the route you were wired to take.
Growingup in Wammy’s was hard. It always had been. You had witnessed yourparents die with your own two eyes, and yet your little 6 year oldself hadn’t had the time needed to grieve their death. Yourintelligence, even at such a young age, had been heard about byWatari Wammy, and in minutes of witnessing your parents untimelydeath, you were being thrown into a place which would run you raggedfor the next 12 years of your life.
Thatwas why you were the way you are. You had gone through torturetraining, relentless hours of studying where you would get hit if youeven asked for a break, days upon days of not being allowed to eatbecause what ifyou get captured, Y/N? You need to learn how to control your urges!
Sothat you had done. You had the scars to prove it, the missing teeth,the destroyed metabolism.
Butyou also had the experience, which came in great handy when you livedin a world like this.
AKira-dominated world. The mystery person behind the deaths ofinnocent people and criminals alike had taken over Japan, and you,Mello and Matt had taken the job of capturing them.
Tonightwas the night it was all going to go down. The three of you wouldsplit up, take on the different areas of Japan, and kidnap KiyomiTakada.
Youhadn’t thought twice whenever Mello brought up the plan to you –you did what he said, got on with it and that was that. There was noneed to ask questions. Mello knew what he was going to do.
Theclock struck midnight, and you three were gone. Guns strapped to yourlegs and your arms, a knife hidden in your sleeve, you march alongthe pavements of Japan all on your own, having already said goodbyeto Matt and Mello.
Yourjob was simple – don’t let anyone past. If anyone suspiciousapproaches, you shoot on sight. No exceptions.
Withyour headpiece strapped to your ear, covered by the beanie you hadpulled on over it, you wait.
“Everyonegood?” you ask after a good ten minutes of static.
“Thiscar is incredible!” Matt hollers, startling you with the volume andsuddenty of his voice ringing in your ear. “Why didn’t you let medrive this before?”
“Matt,shut the fuck up,” Mello says. “I’m almost inside. Distract theguards, and Y/N?”
“Whatis it?”
“Meetme around the back of the warehouse. I need a get away.”
Younod into the darkness, despite Mello not being able to see you. Youset off down the pavement, hopping into your jeep and speeding offtowards the warehouse in question.
Youarrive in no time and absentmindedly wait inside of the truck,tapping your fingers idly and anxiously against the steering wheel.Time always seems to pass so slowly whenever you’re waiting to see ifyou’re friends will live or die. The anxiety crawling in your body inthis moment makes time move even slower, to the point where you’realmost certain a minute is no longer 60 seconds – you had beencounting. It was the only thing that could keep the idea of your twobest friends dying off your mind.
“ChristMello, are you done yet?” you hiss into your ear piece.
Youhear nothing.
Youraise a brow at nothingness again, turning in your seat in an attemptto get a view of the warehouse. The darkness has engulfed it justenough that you can only see the light coming from the top window,and even that is dull.
“Mello?”you repeat.
Noreply. Simply static that makes your skull ring.
Younibble on your lip and press your finger into the device, trying tocatch onto anything you may be able to hear – a whisper. A bit ofwind to tell you that they’re still connected, that they can hear youbut they just can’t speak right now.
Nothing.
“Matt?”you say. “Matt, are you there?”
Thistime, the static pauses. You hold your breath, not wanting to missthe words which are about to pass through the headset.
Andthen, “Since when were the Japanese allowed to carry guns?”followed by a rough “FIRE!” followed by gun shots.
Youfreeze up in your seat, your hand still gripping onto your head setso tightly. You can feel your world crumbling around you as you hearMatt grunt and yell out in pain, bullets no doubt littering everypart of his body in this moment.
Oh,God.
Noamount of torture training could ever prepare someone for that. Fordeath. For the sound of death, the view of it. It was inevitable, andyou knew that.
Itdidn’t take away the history, though. It didn’t take away the factthat Matt was your best friend, and now he was dead.
Youcan’t take your eyes off of your window. It’s as if you can see himright now, being shot and killed in front of you, even though he’s agood five minute drive away. Your head is too deep in the clouds. Youbarely notice Mello flinging open the car door and yelling for you todrive.
Youturn to look at him, mouth agape. “M-Mihael. It’s Matt. They-”
“Iknow!” Mello yells, his voice cracking. “I know. Just – Justdrive!”
“Where’sKiyomi?”
“She’sdead, Y/N! Now can you just do your god damn job and drive!” You slam your foot against the gas. The tires screech against themud before shooting off, sending you and the jeep onto the road. Youignore the cars honking their horns at you – you’re too far gone tocare. The ear piece is still clipped onto your ear as you listen toMatt taking his last few breaths – ragged, bubbled up with theblood no doubt emerging from his throat right now, overflowing fromhis mouth and staining that stupidstripedsweater he always wore.
Sweatlines your hands and you can’t stop yourself from shaking.
Mellotakes one glance at you and he can see how unsettled you are. Theusually business-oriented person he had grown up with haddisappeared, replaced by an anxiety ridden mess who couldn’t keep thejeep still due to their shaking.
Melloreaches over and plucks the ear piece from your ear. He could hearwhat you were listening to as well, and it was enough to make evenhim feel woozy.
“Youdon’t need to hear that,” Mello grunts.
Youblink. “He just – He’s really gone.”
“Stopthinking about it.”
“Howcan I just stop thinking about it?” you nearly yell, but your voiceis far too weak to even begin to think of raising it. “He was mybest friend, Mello! He was yours, too!”
“He’sdead, Y/N!” Mello yells back. “There’s nothing we can do about itnow, is there? We just have to-”
“Justhave to what?” you scoff. “Keep on keeping on? Get on with life?Keep tracking down Kira, huh? Is that what you want? If it was sodamn easy for Matt to get obliterated, then what the fuckarewe still doing?”
“What’sthat supposed to mean?” Mello asks.
“Itmeans, Mihael-” You tighten your grip on the steering wheel, angerbubbling up in your system. “I don’t want to die, and trying tokidnap the people working for Kira is exactly what is going to get mekilled.”
Mellofeels his stomach clench. He had just lost one of his best friends –he couldn’t lose you, as well. Whether that meant through death orfrom you simply abandoning him.
Hereaches out suddenly, his bony hands covering yours as they shakeagainst the steering wheel. Your breath hitches at the contact, notused to it from Mello but it’s welcoming. It’s a comfort during thistime.
“Don’ttalk like you’re doing this on your own,” Mello says, and his voiceis a whisper. A contrast to the night sky you are currently speedingbeneath, stars dotting it like puncture holes.
Youcan imagine Matt, standing on one of them stars now, smiling down atyou and Mello now with that shit-eating grin on his face because,“Did I notalways say you two would end up together?”
Theclouds were much too pretty and flimsy for Matt. He went straight tothe stars.
You’recrying before you can even realise you’re doing so.
“I’mjust scared, Mihael,” you whisper, eyes blurring your view of theroad. “I don’t wanna die. I thought I was prepared for this, butwe’re so in danger. Me and you. We’re so in danger. We can – Wethrow ourselves out into the action. The only reason Near isn’t deadright now is because he stays huddled up in that stupid fuckingbuilding of his.”
“Hey,”Mello says, leaning in closer to look at you. “Pull over.”
Youdo as he says, not asking questions – just like you’re used to.
Youwipe at your eyes as soon as you can, small gasps escaping you as youstruggle to find your breath. Mello rubs his hand gently over yourback, waiting for you to calm down before he continues.
“I’llalways be there to protect you. You know that, right?”
Youswallow thickly. You want to tell him no. You want to tell him thathis protection isn’t what you need – you need out of thisshit-storm you’d thrown yourself into. You need out of this case, outof this life you’d been leading for the past six months, because itisn’t right.
Butyou don’t. Instead, you nod, because as badly as you want out rightnow, Mello was your best friend. He was the man who had taken abullet for you. He was the man who you had once taken a bullet for.He was the man who cooked you breakfast whenever you were sick, onlyto drop it on your lap whenever he fell over your rug. He was the manwho had insisted you get rid of your cat, all because he knew youwere allergic to them due to him hacking into your medical recordsages ago.
Hewas the only person you had left now that Matt was gone, and leavinghim would be like chopping off your left arm just because youcouldn’t handlethe weight of it.
“Iknow,” you mumble. “I know you will.”
Mellonods, leaning forward so your eyes meet his at long last. Beautifuleyes of deep brown that were the colour of melted chocolate wheneverhe was happy, but looked like the burning coal whenever he was mad.
“Good.I’ll drive us home.” He unfastens his seat belt, pauses, looks atyou one last time. “I don’t say it enough, but I love you. I loveyou a lot, and I’m thankful that you’re still with me. Don’t forgetthat.”
Withone last grimace at his own words, he nods to himself and slides outof the car, ready to drive you home.
#death note#death note imagines#mihael keehl#mello death note#mello imagines#matt death note#matt death note imagines
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About the Muse
Repost, do not reblog.
Tagged by: @gameoverbakura
Tagging: @chloegetoutofthewindow @l1ttlew1tch @box-of-muses @hirotohondaposts @ofhuntersandthieves @aduelistsheart @hamburgerssss (I actually tagged people this time!)
Since this is fairly long I put it under a read more. :)
General:
1. What is your character’s favorite color?:
Lenny’s favorite color is pink! Her second favorite is purple.
2. What is your character’s favorite food?:
Pizza is Lenny’s favorite food!
3. What is your character’s favorite drink?:
Lenny loves both Mello Yello & Orange Juice.
4. If your character likes tea, what is their favorite kind?:
Lenny is not a tea drinker.
5. If your character likes coffee, black or fancy?:
Lenny does not drink coffee either.
6. Dog or cat person? (Or other):
The answer to this question should be obvious! Lenny’s a cat lady! She loves cats! She does like dogs as well, but she prefers cats over all.
7. Can they cook?:
Yes, she can cook! She’s not like a gourmet cook or anything, but she does know how to prepare simple meals.
8. Can they play any sort of instrument? How well?:
Lenny does know how to play the keyboards and piano a bit, but she only knows a few songs. Her Nana Nessa / Mamaw taught her how to play back when she still lived in Indiana. It’s been years since she’s played, so her skills are a bit rusty. She does have some keyboards at home that she sometimes gets out and messes around on.
9. Can they sing? How well?:
Yes! Lenny can sing! She’s actually really good at it. Singing is something Lenny really enjoys doing and she does it often. Usually she’ll just sing when she’s alone or when she’s doing a task. She also often sings to the animals at work.
10. Optimist, Pessimist or in between?:
Lenny is bit of both I guess?
11. If they could go anywhere, where would that place be?:
Lenny has always wanted to visit England/Ireland, because that’s where One Direction is from! She also low key hopes that if she ever goes to one of those places that she’ll meet one of the band members.
12. How many siblings do they have? Do they have a favorite?:
Lenny does not have any siblings. She’s always wanted a brother or sister, but neither of her parents ever had anymore kids.
13. What is their biggest fear?:
Lenny’s biggest fear is claustrophobia. This stems from an incident she was apart of as a teenager. Ever since, she’s had a severe fear of getting stuck in tight places - or just being in small enclosed places in general. And she often gets panic attacks when she’s in small spaces. To her, everything feels like it’s closing in and she’s afraid she’ll get stuck there and not be let out.
14. If they could eat one food for the rest of their life (and it wouldn’t affect them negatively) what would it be?:
Maybe turkey manhattan? (Turkey on mashedpotatoes and bread covered in gravy)
15. If you could pick one career for them to do for the rest of their lives that isn’t what they do now, what would it be? What would they do best?:
If Lenny wasn’t working at the animal shelter and she wasn’t studying in the animal control / behavior fields, I could see her becoming a veterinarian. When she was really little, that had originally been her career plan. She’d wanted to help sick and wounded animals. However, when she was about nine or ten, she had a change of heart when she discovered Animal Cops on Animal Planet. She then decided that she’d rather rescue the animals and that she wanted to be an advocate for animal cruelty.
OC’s
1. What was this character inspired by?:
I feel like Lenny is inspired a lot by my character: Shania Adams. When I first started out this blog, I decided that I wanted to make a character similar to Shania - a warmhearted shy cat lady who works with animals. I also try to put a bit of myself into each of my characters, so there’s a bit of me in there as well.
2. How long have you been developing them?:
I’ve been developing Lenny for about a year now!
3. What shows/cartoons/animes can you see them being able to jump into and blend in seamlessly?:
I can see Lenny being on the show Pokemon! I’m not entirely sure about any others though.
4. Are they single-verse only, or do they have multiple aus/verses?:
She’s got multiple verses. There’s five of them currently.
5. How do other people tend to view this character?:
So far, during the roleplay’s I’ve been apart of, a lot of the characters have noted how shy and kind she is. I think these qualities are the parts of her that people see most often. (I really need to bring out some of the other sides of her more often.)
6. Does your character inspire you?:
Until now, I hadn’t really thought about it. Though I’ll have to say a yes to that! She’s doing a lot to help animals and that’s something I really want to do with my life as well. Lenny has also been through a lot in her life and she’s struggled a lot with dealing with her parents divorce, to moving, and bullying. Yet she still managed to stay the kindhearted sweet person she’s always been. Like everyone, she does have her down days though. Because of her, I’ve started referring to a lot of people as sweetie on the internet as well.
Canon Characters
1. Is this character strictly canon, canon divergent, or completely an au?:
2. Do you draw from your own experiences for them?:
3. What made you want to play them?:
4. Give us one headcanon that you think fits your character most:
5. What other canon characters do you want to rp with but haven’t gotten the chance to yet?:
6. Is your character in any cross-overs?:
7. How do other people tend to view how you play the character?:
8. Does your character inspire you?:
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