Welcome, welcome! If you're here, you may have been intrigued by the vague summary. With any luck, the story won't dissapoint. ^.~ Before we get started, there are a few things I need to tell you, the first of which is that whatever he may be in actuality, Mello is decidedly straight in this story.
Mirati: Obviously.
Me: Hush! They haven't met you yet!
Mirati: Then I'll introduce myself. I am the OC mentioned in the summary. You can call me Mir. *winks*
Me: *sigh* Anyways. The second thing you should know is that at this point, I've seen a whole... two Death Note episodes with Mello in them? And had seen a big fat ZERO when I wrote this chapter. So, if our favorite chocoholic's a bit out of character, give me a break, how 'bout it?
Mirati: Number three is that destinykeyblade has sworn not curse. Like, ever. Therefore, Mello's unavoidable swearing is in those little symbols above the numbers on your keyboard.
Me: Last but not least... I have ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE where this story is gonna go after this intro. If anyone has any ideas after reading, PLEASE feel free to send them to me.
Mirati: *sweatdrop* If you didn't know what you were doing, why did you bother starting it...?
Me: Because I thought of the title one day and couldn't resist starting a story under it! Think about it! Keelhauled. Put an extra H in, and it becomes 'Keehlhauled', which practically BEGS to be a story about Mello!
Mirati: ...*sighs* I was created by an idiot... *shrugs* Ah, well. What can you do?
Me: The disclaimer would be nice.
Mirati: Oh yeah. That. destinykeyblade does not own Death Note. If she did, Matt would live with her and they would spend their lives happily pressing buttons on video game controllers, because she's nearly as psycho-obsessed with them as he is. Also, she would give Near to her little cousin for her birthday, keep Mello for herself and force him to read romantic lines with his hot voice, and I don't even want to KNOW what she'd do with L. ...Oh, and Light and Misa would fall off cliffs. Big ones.
Me: ...*blinks* Well. Thank you for that... interesting disclaimer. And now, without further ado, please enjoy the latest product of my insanity.
Hello, Mihael Keehl.
Yes, I know your name.
You also go by the alias Mello, or simply M, depending on which mood strikes you.
I possess some information that you may find... interesting.
If you pay enough attention to it, you could very well catch Kira before White-Out does.
Yeah, I know the sheep, too. Nate Rivers, or Near, as he generally prefers.
Big-headed albino sheep. White-Out fits him better.
But that's a little off topic, isn't it?
I am more than willing to pass my information to you, Mello - if you want it, of course.
Use the map enclosed in the envelope to find me.
I'll be waiting for you, day or night, so come when you have the chance.
You won't be dissapointed.
One last thing: I'm not very popular with Kira's followers, for obvious reasons.
Be absolutely certain that you are alone when you come to see me.
Later, M.
~R
"Look at this crap, Matt," Mello said, shoving the letter in Matt's face and successfully fouling up the red-head's attempt at defeating Xion's final form on his copy of 358/2 Days. The gamer sent his friend a glare that clearly said 'If I didn't like you, I'd shoot you' before angrily closing his Nintendo DS and snatching the paper out of Mello's hand. His expression of fury faded into one of distrust as he read over the note.
"...Well?" Mello asked, arms crossed over his leather-clad chest.
Matt glanced up at him. "Well what?"
"Are we going?"
"Tch. Since when do you ask me what we're doing?" Matt scoffed, leaning back on the couch with his hands behind his head. "Anyway, it specifically says 'make sure you're alone'. I think that's a dual message - come without any companions, and don't let the Kira creeps follow you. Doesn't sound like I'm invited to this party, Mels." He paused in his speech to light the umpteenth cigarette of the day. "But if you're asking me what I think about it, I say you should rip that map up and park your butt on the couch. That's a trap if I ever saw one."
Mello heeded Matt's second piece of advice, promptly throwing himself onto the much-abused cushions. Immediately he grabbed the letter back from Matt and proceeded to read through it no less than seven more times, making a new revelation with each reading.
1. "This guy's a stalker," Mello announced, frowning deeply. "He knows my name and my aliases." Matt, deeply into another game, answered with only a grunt.
2. "I bet he hacked Wammy's, or broke in or something. He knows all the sheep's info, too." Matt responded with a little growl. "So what, I'm not worth stalking?" Mello ignored him.
3. "He knows I want to catch Kira. Maybe he's the leader of one of those underground things. That would make sense why he knows me AND White-Out. ...That is a good one, you know."
4. "He hates Near as much as I do." Matt rolled his eyes. "Great," he answered sarcastically.
5. " 'If you want it.' Not, 'If you agree to my terms.' Looks like he just wants Kira caught, and for me to do it. 'Waiting day or night... You won't be dissapointed.' This information must really be worth something."
6. "Alone. No Kira worshippers following, and if you're right, no you, either, Matt..."
7. "This," Mello said, pausing dramatically, "could be a trap."
Matt actually paused his game to glare at Mello, a thing nearly unheard of. "No, you think, Sherlock?" he asked drily. "How long did it take you to figure that one out?" Mello returned the glare with far more animosity, and Matt eventually turned his attention back to his game, preferring to keep all his limbs rather than clash with the aggressive blonde and end up losing something. "So tear it up already," Matt grumbled quietly.
"Nope."
Matt paused his game again, staring wide-eyed as Mello stood up off the couch, placing the letter on the table. "What?" he asked, bewildered.
"I'm going."
"But you just said-"
"Look, Matt," Mello snapped, pulling the map out of the envelope and unfolding it. "This is too good an opportunity to pass up. If I can catch Kira and prove that I'm better than that squirt, I'm gonna do it. And if it really is a trap..." He smirked and flipped his jacket to the side, revealing his hidden firearm. "I'd wager I can get out of it."
Matt could only gape helplessly as Mello seized a few rounds of ammunition off the table (what were those doing there, anyway?) and stuffed them in his left pocket, putting the map in his right. Without a single word of parting, Mello stepped outside and pulled the door shut hard behind him.
~;~;~
"Left at this light..." Mello muttered to himself, glancing down at the map as he drove the Chevelle through town. "And then a right... straight through Kira territory? What's this guy's trip? 'Don't let them follow you, Mello, but drive right past 'em to get here!' Thanks alot!"
Driving with only his right hand, Mello reached under his arm to snag a chocolate bar out of the cupholder. He didn't need to fly mad yet. YET. The time for that would be after he'd gotten his information from the stalker, which meant right now he had to focus on getting through Kiraville without being stalked by them. He ripped the off part of the chocolate wrapper with his teeth and spat it to the floorboard, then took a large, satisfying bite of the treat it had hidden beneath it. Mellow out, Mello.
The drive through the mindless masses' territory went far better than he'd expected. The Kira worshippers didn't even seem to notice him - not that they should really know who he was anyway. Still, as he exited the pro-Kira section of town, he kept a cautious eye on his mirrors, determined to catch anyone who might have been following. Save a car that had been behind him since he'd first left the apartment, there was no one in sight. "So far so good," he said aloud, nodding positively and chomping down on his chocolate once more.
Some eight turns and twenty-five minutes later, the sun was starting to sink to the horizon, casting an orange-ish glow over the earth as the red Chevelle came to a stop. The man driving it, however, was just getting started.
"What kinda #$& is this? This is NOT the right *$#^&% place! It can't be!"
Mello had followed the directions exactly - and had pulled up in front of a dance club. "This isn't right," the blonde seethed, glaring out his window at the building. He could hear the music from outside, and the dark tinted windows were failing if their purpose was to stop the florescent colored lights from blinding people driving by.
"This can't be right," Mello snarled again, shooting a glare at the map. He almost tossed it out the window, but something on the back caught his eye. He flipped it over and found a note in the same handwriting as the letter.
Looks can be decieving.
Great. His stalker had watched him long enough to know how he would react to the club. Nevertheless, it meant he wasn't lost, and though he didn't relish the thought of entering, the promise of information that might help him beat Near was too tantalizing. Mello stuck the map in his right pocket once again and got out of the car, striding purposefully to the club's door.
The instant he opened it, he was assaulted by a vicious, pounding beat that not only tried to bust his eardrums but reached into his chest and forced his heart to beat along with its rhythm. The brightness of the lights he had seen from outside had been amplified by ten, leaving him blind when they flashed and blind when they went out, as the lack of light plunged the club into darkness. Add to this the hordes of people dancing (and Mello used that term loosely) in tight-knit groups that formed a sort of living wall, and it wouldn't be hard to understand why a tidal wave of hopelessness washed over the chocoholic.
"I'll never find anyone in this," he groused. At least, he thought he did. The volume of the music made it impossible for him to hear his own voice. Therefore, it came as a complete surprise when he heard someone else's voice, quite clearly, say his name.
"Mihael Keehl."
Mello jumped a foot off the ground, miraculously resisting the urge to pull out his gun and start shooting. He whirled to his right, the direction the voice had come from, and saw in the light of the multicolored strobes-
A woman? his mind shrieked in disbelief.
"Follow me," she ordered, seizing his arm with a surprisingly strong grip and steering him away from the mobs to a door that he never could have found on his own. She removed her hand for just a moment, taking a key out of her pocket and sticking it into the lock. Then it was back on him, pulling him inside with her.
They appeared to be in a sort of backroom. Given that places like these were generally full of druggies, Mello suspected that later in the night there would be drug-dealers here selling their wares. Now, however, it was merely an empty room; dimly lit, and occupied by no one and nothing but Mello and his stalker. Speaking of her...
"Glad you made it, Mello," the woman said, releasing him once again and taking a few steps toward the center of the room. "I was almost afraid you weren't going to come."
Her voice was neither high nor low-pitched, but comfortably between the two. It had a bit of a melodius ring to it, as well as another quality Mello couldn't name, but that sent a pleased shiver down his spine when she said his name. As for her physical appearance... well, there was nothing to sneeze at. Mello could have sworn she was specifically throwing her curves at him as she sauntered to the middle of the floor. Her clothing (leather, Mello noted with some satisfaction) would have showed a good deal of leg if her steampunk style boots hadn't come nearly to her thighs. Dark hair hung from a high ponytail all the way to her hips, which obscured most of her outfit, but the way Mello saw it, she had to turn around sometime.
When she did, Mello nearly gaped. The hourglass tilted tauntingly to the side, as if begging to be looked at, but some of the features that created it also begged for attention. The plunging neckline of her sleeveless black leather shirt was decidedly not helping matters as Mello struggled to bring his eyes to her face. Clearly, she was used to being ogled, as she seemed to wait patiently. At last, Mello did force his eyes up to where hers would be - and was captured once more, this time by a smoke-colored gaze.
I am in TROUBLE.
"Who are you?" Mello managed to ask, staring now at what was possibly the prettiest face he'd ever seen (in person, at least; he'd seen better in pictures). She smirked, making Mello's heart speed up.
"Hn... Well, I know your name, M, so quite obviously I would have to be R, wouldn't I?" she answered coyly, putting her hands on her hips. Mello noticed that her hands - and her arms all the way up to her elbows - were covered by a pair a black fingerless gloves. An interesting fashion statement, but it matched well with the rest of her clothing.
"What's that stand for?"
She frowned suspiciously. "Hm... I shouldn't tell you just like that," she said, gray eyes narrowing. Then she flashed him a smile. "But since you're so cute, Mihael... Rhiannon." Rhiannon stepped closer and leaned toward him. "Know what?" she asked, acting like a schoolgirl with a secret.
Mello shook his head, still trying to regain his wits. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "You can call me Mirati," she said, then leaned back to where she'd been.
"...Why?" Mello asked, blinking.
Rhiannon/Mirati smiled. "Because it's my real name," she told him with a grin.
A slow nod was Mello's reply. The shock was wearing off; rational thought was returning. Hot girl or no, this could still be a trap. He had to be on top of his game, ready for anything. "Alright then, Mirati," he said, putting his thumbs in his pockets while the rest of his hands rested against his legs. "So, you said you had information for me?"
Mirati nodded, sending her hair flying everywhere. "Oohh yes, I do indeed. Would you like it now, Mihael?"
Mello regarded her for a moment. She looked back at him innocently. "...Yeah. Tell me."
Mirati stepped toward him, an eager smile on her face, then stopped right in front of him, frowning. "Before I can get to that, I have to tell you something else," she said seriously.
"Uh... okay. What is it?"
The sparkling gray eyes went suddenly hard. Before Mello had a chance to react, Mirati had slammed him against a wall, pinning his body with hers so that he couldn't reach his gun or throw a punch. Then she slammed her hand over his mouth and nose, and Mello smelled something odd. Gas! Some kind of gas was in her gloves! Almost instantly, Mello felt himself losing conciousness. The last thing he heard was Mirati's voice speaking vaguely.
"I really didn't think you'd be this stupid."
Voila! What thinkest thou, o marvelous readers? As I mentioned earlier, any and all ideas for a plot would be welcomed warmly and given hot chocolate and cookies. Reviews get whatever kind of treat they want! ...Except Ramune. Only enough of that for me :P Thanks for reading! ^^