Lani: Alas, I began this a while ago and so the writing is a smidge old-ish (read: not the bestest I can be). However, it's still cute and it's still an ongoing effort, so I ask you to please enjoy. Or try to. Either or.
Disclaimer: Death Note was never, is not, and shall never be mine (regrettably). But the goofy little OCs Bob, Mike, and Carlos are mine, which isn't saying a whole lot. Don't fear the word "OC;" they are merely here for humor purposes.
Question – What does the Wammy House do when it's vacation time, and the kids need a break?
Answer – Why, take them all to Disney World, of course!
Bob, a thin little guy who worked as a caretaker for the orphans, panted and wheezed as he stumbled for the airplane. Why . . . Why was this white fluff-ball so heavy?! Why couldn't he walk?!
The white little sheep asked, "Mr. Bob, why are you slowing down? We're almost there."
Bob gasped, "Yeah . . . Yeah . . . Almost . . . there . . ."
Matt briefly glanced up from his Game Boy. He, Mello, and Linda walked beside Bob. Matt observed before going back to his game, "You must be really out of shape. Near weighs practically nothin'."
Bob grumbled incoherent things against his young charges until they reached the loading dock. He and the kids shuffled onto the plane while a wiry hyperactive man named Mike carried their entire luggage behind them.
They picked out their seats in the aisle; their seating arrangements were somewhat satisfactory. Mello had made SURE that he was by Matt, and a window. So Mello was in a window seat with Matt right beside him, and across the aisle from them was Near in the aisle seat and Mike in the window seat. Bob and Linda sat by each other behind Mello and Matt.
Once everyone was settled, they all had to wait for the plane to take off.
And so they waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Mello gnawed on his chocolate like a beaver gnaws a log. The annoying squeaky music to Matt's game was driving everyone up the wall. Linda started doodling little flowers and such on her arms with a black pen. Near played with the robot Mike fished out of his suitcase for him.
Now, the two adults were pretty calm. Bob was contentedly reading a Bass Fishing magazine. And Mike was listening to his CD player so loud that he couldn't even hear the kids asking for something if he even wanted to.
Finally, Mello snapped. He leaned over Matt (Matt just lifted his Game Boy and played over Mello's shoulder) and whined to Mike, "What's goin' on? What's takin' so long?"
When he received no reply, Mello crossly and loudly complained, "This SUUUUUUUUUCKSSSSSS . . . ."
Near tossed him a glare. "Please refrain from being so obnoxiously loud."
"WHAT'DJA SAY, YA STUPID FURBALL?!"
Near sighed. "You're not even worth arguing with. What an incompetent reply."
Seething in anger, Mello almost threw himself at him if it hadn't been for Matt, who held up his arm and kept him back.
Soon the plane took off.
It was a long, long, long, long,LONG plane trip. Occasionally, there'd be pockets of silence.
Occasionally, there'd be loud outbursts that'd rattle the whole plane, such as, "AAAAAGGGGHHH, MY EARS POPPED AGAIN!"
When it was time for the snack cart to go around, there was practically nothing left of the two adults supervising the children. Ragged, beaten, and plain tired of listening to Mello's mood swings and Matt's music and Near's sound effects as he made his super robot fly through the air, Mike and Bob were relieved for peanuts and soda.
Mello squeaked in surprise when he got his drink, "Look Matt, look! There're holes in the ice cubes!"
Then the children all had to take their straws and poke them through the holes.
They had fun.
That is . . . until . . .
"AAACCKK, I DROPPED AN ICE CUBE ON MY LAP!"
Mike and Bob flinched.
It felt like the whole plane was staring at them.
Bob hissed at the whimpering Mello, who was biting his lip and muttering, "Cold, cold, cold –" "What do you think you're doing?!"
Mello ground out, "Well, the ice cube kinda melted a little before I could pick it up, and the cold kinda surprised me and –"
"Okay, okay, I so don't wanna hear details!" Bob rubbed his temples, picking up his fishing magazine again.
Matt picked up an ice cube and quickly crammed it down Mello's shirt – just to see how he would react.
Mello shrieked and bounced around in his seat.
A blue pen sailed over the seat to hit him in the head. Linda snapped, "Stop being so loud, I swear!"
Near jerked on his little curl, trying his hardest to ignore them.
Matt cackled gleefully.
Mello tried to strangle him.
The snack cart lady stared.
Carlos was a twitchy, ADHD orphan. He was intelligent – that was why he was even in the Wammy House in the first place – but he was a bit of a kleptomaniac. He was fidgeting in a seat, surrounded by the masses of other intelligent orphans. Carlos didn't like being surrounded by the others; he always had the feeling that he barely made it into Wammy House, and that he was vastly inferior to everyone else.
He poked his freckles nervously. His eyes flicked to and fro. When the light signaling it was okay to get up flashed, he leapt to his feet and slunk down the aisles. Then, he spotted a blond strangling a red-head, a white haired boy with wide eyes, and a girl who was drawing on a sketch pad. Carlos's eyes were caught by a few robots on the suitcase at the feet of the white haired boy. His grin grew huge, his front teeth stuck out more than usual.
Carlos recognized the blond and the white haired boy to be L's successors.
Quickly, slyly, he dove for a robot, the one with a "T" on its head, and ran cackling towards the bathroom.
Near froze in horror. He cried, getting everyone's attention, "Mr. Bob, after that thief!"
Bob leapt to his feet and followed, only to have the bathroom's door slammed in his face. "HEY!" He knocked on the door. "I know you're not really using that! Come out here now!"
"CURING INTESTINAL DEFORMITIES, ONE PLASTIC ROBOT AT A TIME!"
"Tch, whatever, kid! That's the biggest fib I've ever heard! Well . . . Except for this once when my parents told me that babies were grown in my grandma's garden out back and –"
"Mr. Bob, cease digressing!"
Looking slightly SHEEPish at the white-haired boy's reprimand, Bob twisted the doorknob in vain.
A light, feminine tone said over the intercom, "All passengers need to be seated."
Bob cast antsy looks around him, and yet flinched under Near's hard glare. It was as if the fluffy was saying with his eyes, If you don't get that robot back, I'll lock YOU in a bathroom . . . and feed Matt the key . . . .
Bob gulped.
The voice announced again, "All passengers please sit down and fasten your seatbelts."
Bob shouted, "I'm getting there, I'm getting there!"
Carlos chuckled darkly from the other side of the bathroom door. "The belt to THIS SEAT is fastened . . ."
"GROSS-NASTY!" Mello squealed.
Finally, Bob pulled the knob so hard that it came off in his hands. In a daze, he gawked at it.
"Would all the passengers please get in a seat so there won't be any casualties?!"
Bob slunk to his seat and handed Near the knob as he sat down. "Don't worry," he mumbled, "at least he can't get away with your robot . . ."
Near gave one of his dark, slightly very creepy smiles. "Perfect. I'll get him, once it's alright to stand up again. Or should I say that you'll get him, Mr. Bob?"
Mr. Bob flopped against the back of his seat, exhaling loudly. He so needed a stress reliever . . . .
Or a better partner besides Mike, who paused his music just long enough to laugh at Bob's situation.
Lani: There you have it, the end of chapter one. Updates will try to come regularly, for I have a few more chapters already down and ready. Regardless, thank you for reading the first chapter!