"Anyway, why do you seem so interested in my ex-profession?" B asked the girl, and she was forced to look away from his eyes to focus on something else. As dominant as her personality was, this question reminded her that he was a lot more dangerous than she was. She'd do well not to antagonize, provoke or encourage him, however 'doing well' had never been her area of expertise. She rolled her eyes.
"I'm curious. It's not every day you meet a serial killer on hiatus, or a delusional schizophrenic who's forgotten his meds."
"Oh really?" B smirked, enjoying their conversation too much to mind her brashness. "All I have to say is that I know how Kira kills. Boring and completely unoriginal, I mean why do people think he's so great and mighty? I could do exactly the same thing as Kira if I acquired what's needed, no problem!"
The girl quirked an eyebrow, lighting up another cigarette. "I find an interest in Kira because it's the motives he has, not the brutality or art in the crime. His motives are so complex, and so twisted. He must really be convinced he is God... Do you still create art?" She took a drag, taking back and allowing the smoke to drift out of her mouth slowly. "I could write an interesting article on you..."
"Journalist?"
"Indeed." The girl smoked slowly, savouring the taste. She didn't smoke regularly, often limiting herself to one a day, or even five a week. The amount of nicotine sated her need temporarily and she found it satisfying that she wasn't destroying her lungs excessively.
"Then you should be aware that my last masterpiece was a prison guard. I didn't stick to my usual terms, which angered me more than he did, however it couldn't be helped." B seemed to sigh. "They should have hired someone a little more... Adequate to watch little ole' me." He chuckled and bit a lip, watching her with a dangerous interest.
"Nope. I haven't been in the business long." He seemed to eye above her head, watching her lifespan and age curiously.
"You don't say..." he tilted his head to one side. "You seem young. How old are you?" The girl smiled a little and chuckled, smoke billowing from her mouth.
"About that... Since you're a serial killer, you wouldn't have much interest in doing justice to petty criminals... I'm actually fifteen." She laughed a little awkwardly, shuffling a little. B pretended to act shocked, however he'd really known this all along.
"You really don't look it. How do you get away with working and..." He gestured to her cigarette. "Smoking?" She quirked an eyebrow again- it seemed to be her sarcastic, interested and ironic gesture. "Let alone speak like a teenager... You could have become one of L's female successors, I'm sure of that." The girl seemed to roll her eyes.
"I moved from the UK to the US at thirteen. If I thought that the education there was dull and low-standard, the one in the United States made me slit my wrists." B eyed the cuffs of her coat after the phrase, trying to figure out whether it was literal. Is that why she had so little fear? "Mummy was the co-founder of Dantalon Bank. Daddy was the co-founder of Aria Cars. They were hardly ever home. So I did what every repressed teen would- I found a crowd of junkies."
B rolled his eyes. "I was beginning to think highly of you until you announced that. You could have been one of his successors... But then again, so could I..." The girl ignored his comment a little- she had little interest in being a detective.
"I found the black market- I found drugs and I found false ID's. When I'd acquired what I wanted, I signed on for a college course at 14- mentally and physically able to act as a twenty-year-old. I left all the drugs behind, however picked the alcohol back up again when my parents died in a plane crash. Due to my absence, and the fact that I was recorded to have been on the flight, everyone just assumed that 'Maddie Dantalon' died with them. In a way, she did. Reborn as the heir to the Dantalon estate, I now own all of their possessions. Sheer intelligence, coincidence and emotional strength has brought me this far. I don't intend to ruin this; however I'm wondering whether you do."
"Ryuzaki, is this really necessary?" Light stepped out of the vehicle, seemingly in sync with the detective. The detective viewed him like he was the most uneducated individual ever.
"I wish to catch the killer before the media does. If it happens to be Beyond, I do not want the original Kira," He eyed Light "-wherever he may be hiding, killing him. I wish to contain him and understand his methods- he used to be training to succeed me, after all." Light frowned and slammed the sleek car door behind him, eyes trained on L.
"Whatever you say." He seemed to tread around the vehicle with slow sarcasm in his step. "I just don't think I'm comfortable viewing the scene. Even if we could be doing Mara Chandler justice by searching it. Even if we could be obstructing Kira's will." L raised an eyebrow- he hadn't thought of it this way before. Either way, they were, or at least he was, going to take a last look around until the forensics team took samples.
L walked towards a police van parked adjacent to the start of the alley and pulled open the door to the boot. "Your presence here isn't optional, however your involvement is. You just have to pay witness to what I'm doing." L muttered, pulling on a pair of plastic gloves over his lithe hands and shoe-to-shoulder overalls up over his clothed thighs. Light gulped, remembering the way he'd seen those bare thighs that morning- how they'd just about met by his groin, petite in width and lightly muscled.
"I'd prefer watching." He interrupted his thoughts; savouring L's disappointed expression for a brief moment before the detective's eyes turned to the scene and viewed it with interest and concentration. Light found his thoughts drawn to Misa, and how due to both investigations, he hadn't seen her in a few days. Like it really mattered to him, however. He was content with seeing her once a week for a coffee. Before Light really had time to dwell any deeper, L called out his name and he felt his eyes drawn to where the detective was standing, holding something that looked like a bloodied straw mass in hand.
"What is it, Ryuzaki?" Light called back, straightening up off of the van's closed door he'd been leaning on. His attention focused on the detective, who was a few more metres down the alley beginning to approach him.
"It's a Wara Ningyo..." L frowned, as if it were a question. The plastic gloves he wore over his fingers were now stained with blood, and the congealed substance was dripping in thick pats from the straw voodoo-like doll. Light grimaced in disgust.
"The forensics team will deal with it. Just..." He trailed off, gulping as L turned it with concentration around in his fingertips. "Just leave it, Ryuzaki!" He hissed, and L caught his eyes with a teasing glimmer inside his obsidian orbs.
"Can Kira not deal with the gore his victims spread? Is that why he murders them mercifully?" L's voice was childlike- antagonizing and intrusive. It wasn't the first time Light had witnessed him this way, however the way that his fingers were curling into the bloodied straw doll, and the way that the corners of his lips were showing slight signs of quirking upwards, suggested he was a little excited for the teenagers reaction. Maybe a little too excited. He was definitely baiting Light.
"L, quit it." Light snapped, reaching the end of his wits. "I'm not Kira, and I do not want to be here." Light turned his back on the detective, normalizing his breathing and cupping his forehead in his palm and fingertips. Light wasn't stupid- Ryuzaki would think that something was up if you reacted too extremely or didn't react at all. He heard a sigh- one that had decided not to have an argument.
"Pass me an evidence bag. I've found the eighth Wara Ningyo."
"-Seventh." Light finished confidently, and Ryuzaki gave him a stern and snarky look. "Didn't you talk to the community officers? The CSI's only found six." Ryuzaki's face dropped faster than a lead balloon, and his eyes seemed to lose their gleam. Light noticed this immediately, however it didn't quite click with him why. "L?!" Light began, however he was shushed by the detective's footsteps.
"Light, get me an evidence bag. Now."
"Bu-"
"Light, do you insist on obstructing the course of justice?" Light shook his head, taking in a deep breath. The detective was deeply unnerved by something, yet Light, for the life of him, couldn't figure out why. He turned, opened the doors to the boot of the police van and pulled out a plastic evidence bag, holding it by the bottom and extending it to L. L took it and placed the dripping Wara Ningyo inside. "We're done here."
Light bit his lip, eyeing the detective worriedly. "Why are you so worried? What does this mean?" He frowned a little. "I know these dolls are scary, but you seem a little too..."
"Look, Light, I was hoping you'd catch on, but it hasn't happened yet. The journalist on the website claimed there were seven. Six, if it wasn't seven like I'd originally assumed, were pinned to a wall in plain sight. The other one was under a skip on the opposite wall, in a pool of blood that will probably belong to Mara Chandler."
Light slowly found himself understanding. "So either the journalist is somehow involved with the murderer, has surveyed the scene closely and possibly contaminated it, or was informed by someone who is or has done one of those things, if not both?" L stripped off the bloodied gloves, placing the evidence bag into the truck compartment beforehand. Regardless of propriety, he disposed of them in another plastic trash bag and chewed his thumb nervously.
"Quite possibly." Light grimaced in disgust- he would have to wash his hands thoroughly before placing them anywhere on his body, as if the gore could seep through the gloves. The detective ignored the gesture, removing his thumb once he realized it was making the teenager uncomfortable. "I fear that B- either the original, or his successor, may be working alongside the journalist. The killer, or even those who are aware of him, intends to initiate a game with the police force. Either way, this is definitely B's style..."
"I don't quite understand why the journalist would inform us there were seven if one was supposed to be hidden?" Light was a little confused- the motive wasn't obvious.
"A game, Light. We've found this one hidden. It buys the killers more time if we're searching for another doll that could potentially hold evidence against him. I'm a little confused about the motive as well. Throwing random points and theories out there won't get us any closer to catching B. We need time, thought, and communication with 'Seph Iero'." The detective stripped out of the overall, kicking it into the pile by the far tyre of the police van. Light rolled his shoulders, watching as Ryuzaki took his usual slouching position, looking regular in his blue jeans and white tee. "Chemistry has never been my area, so I guess the forensics team will be able to cover the rest of the scene, and to examine the seventh Wara Ningyo." He looked back into the bag, a little mesmerized by the pattern of the blood on the straw.
Light frowned at the detective's obvious interest in the case. He turned back around- even remembering the image of Misa in a signature skull-and-crossbones bikini didn't calm him. "Can we leave now? The stench of blood is making my stomach lurch."
Mello opened the door to his dormitory to find Near, sat on the floor beside his bed-side locker amongst seven chocolate wrappers. Seven of his chocolate wrappers. The wrappers of the entire stash he'd had. Mello's face contorted- he'd lost his weekly cash supply, and his weekly leisure permissions due to the night he'd spent at Matt's. This obviously meant that Near was going to pay- big time.
"Right, you little shit!" Mello hissed, with little disregard for the language policy. Near turned around, a shockingly innocent deer-in-the-headlights facial expression that was covered in chocolate from his baby-fat cheeks to his chin. Mello stormed across the room, eyes on the albino that was currently looking at him as if to say I didn't mean it or I only wanted to-
The blonde stopped in front of the younger boy, enraged. "Anything to say? Not only have you gone through my possessions, however you've stolen from me. I deserve compensation, or an apology, at least!" Near just sat there, the same expression on his face as he lifted his finger up into his line of vision. Sighting chocolate on the knuckle, he sucked it into his mouth indecorously. His gaze reaching Mello, the blonde realized the boy had ano- oh. Mello took a sharp intake of breath, feeling his clenched knuckles go slack, the rage-blush drain from his cheeks and migrate down south
"I can buy you some more... It's just that there's some leftover..." Near, having given the finger one last suck, and let out a very moan of content, tried to reach his jaw with his tongue, however quite obviously failed. "I'm so sorry... It was just so tempting." He stretched, the unusually short shirt pulling up and exposing his hip-bone. What the fuck was he playing at? Mello thought angrily, however his thoughts weren't intact for much longer due to the boy's attempts at seduction. Falling back, his head resting on the carpet just before Mello's knee-high buckle combat boots, Near stretched his arms out once again, resulting in the shirt riding up to expose his non-existent stomach. "Do I deserve to be punished for my insolence?"
Near's question was one of mock innocence and childlike inquisitiveness, however Mello really wasn't focusing on the tone. He uttered a groan, his eyes on Near's. Am I always that easy to seduce? "Stand against the wall over by my double," Mello ordered, his voice a little shaky. "You've been a very naughty boy- eating my chocolate then thinking you can get away with seducing me afterwards."
Near, practically begging to be taught a lesson, pulled himself up and braced himself against the wall with his pert rear thrusting out. Mello laughed at the boy's eagerness- how he was just so damn hot and needy. "Turn around." Near seemed to whine- Mello didn't want to spank him raw just yet, but, fuck, was he ready for it. The blonde approached him, bracing his chin with a hand underneath it, forcing his head up, and traced his cheekbones and jaw with his tongue lewdly. Mello groaned at the taste, maybe a little too eagerly, as Near bucked into him with vigour.
Mello pulled back to deliver a smack to Near's chocolate-smeared cheeks. This only seemed to excite the albino more, and as he rutted against his thigh once more before being shoved back against the wall, Mello felt him fully hard. "Patience, bitch." He snarled, remembering how the objective wasn't to be kind or forgiving with the boy. "This is my treat, and I intend to drag this out for as long as possible."
Hope you enjoyed. I had fun writing this last bit... I don't really go in deep with the whole humiliation side of BDSM, because I'm just a sadomasochist with dominative traits, however I really have a feeling that Near could get to Mello this way... Or get into his pants... Either way, Matt should be back soon. I love that little smokin' hot gamer XD It has to polygamy. I will not write Matt/Mello, Mello/Near or even Matt/Near without the other being involved. It's not productive. Anyway, it's late, I'm sorry if there are typos... I've had the busiest week, and writing at 12-2 at night isn't ideal for the fingers, however my mind seems to be most active then. I hope to upload at least one chapter every week until I complete it. The I will become 'THE GOD OF AO3'! Muhahahahahaha.