Me: *deep breathe* OKAY, I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE. I....AM NEWLY IN LOVE~
Matt: YOU'RE CHEATING ON MELLO?!
Mello: THANK THE LAWD, I AM A FREE MAN!
Me: NO, you dumbasses! Remember my old computer got a virus? Well, after kidnapping my Dad's old dinosoar computer, he decided I am in desperete need of a new one. Now, I HAVE A BRAND NEW LAPTOP! It's so shiny.... *o*
Mello: Leave it to you to get distracted by shiny things. -_-
Me: ANYWAY, everyone has been EXTREMELY kind regarding reviews and about my whole computer-less situation. People OFFERED TO SEND ME MELLO PRONZ (Yes, it is spelled Pronz on purpose). Lots of love to Josephine_Falnor, and to oXo_sUpErSpIcYsUgAr_oXo :D
Mello: .....*twitch* You people are sick.... O.e
Me: SHUDDUP. Anyway, I got LOTS of responses on where Linda originated from:
KrAzY-LiTtLe-ImP: For my idea on the Linda thing...I think she crawled out from the dark Abyss of Randomness, where most random walk-on characters dwell, secretly plotting against major characters and eating cookies...sorry, that was random...and now I want cookies :( aw...
GiggleParade: "Near: She also doesn't own Linda, but would very much like to know just where the HELL does she originate from, anyway. Best answer, she says, wins a cookie."
Near, I believe the answer was stated in the question in capital letters. If that will not suffice, then... Well, you see, when a mommy and the devil love each other very much...
Beyond_Jadee: Btw, Linda is surely from Hell. The deep firey dark burning pits of HELL. Either that or a pigtail factory, people from there can detect when another is going to chop their pigtails off. *nods head with proud smile*
Josephine_Falnor: As for where Linda comes from, she comes from the deep, dark realm of the fandom's mind. The fandom would like to think that there are intelligent female characters in Death Note and, hey, you have to be intelligent to get into Wammy's House. Also, the fandom likes to have another character that can irritate the boys at Wammy's. I don't know why, it's just how it is. -_-
Me: THESE WERE ALL HILARIOUS xD However, best so far was this:
TheEvilMuffinToaster: What! I didn't think you were a girl Mello!
...Okay I lied.
I didn't figure out you were a guy until Chapter 60...
-sends Mello a box of I'M SORRY CHOCOLATES-
But one thing there is one thing you could never beat Near at, young grasshopper -squints eyes like a japanese styled american sensei- You destroy him with your fashion style, cross-dressing, and sitting normal. The thing you can't destroy Near in is
...smiling.
I mean c'mon! Have you seen Near's smile? It's like five of the world's hottest volcano's went off!
Me: LOLOL.
Mello: Wait...THAT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH LINDA, LET ALONE ANYTHING!
Me: I KNOW, RIGHT? *IMHAPPYPLZ* OH, BY THE WAY, ONE MORE THING:
Lexy (Mayu_Koizumi): From now on, Fee, Matt, and Mello shall be known as the Golden Trio. From henceforth, I christen them so. They're like the Harry, Ron, and Hermione of Death Note-Land. :D
Me: HELLZ YEAH!
Mello: -_- Misseh does not own Death Note or its characters. However, she does own the OC, Fee. Linda is Copyright Satan's Pigtails Company, 2009.
Matt: I work there....ladies~
Four: Console
"Does it hurt, darling? Don't waste your breathe; no one hears those screams, no one cares for those tears. This is what you get for being the spawn of a whore. Let these be permanent memories of--"
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Matt didn't remember what time it was when Fee dragged him out of bed by the covers, throwing a pile of clothes on his face. He groaned as he tossed his sweater aside, only to be greeted by the sight of a pair of blue rain boots, tapping impatiently.
"Hurry up," she commanded, staring him down. Matt quirked a brow at the dark circles under her eyes; just as black as eyeliner.
"Didn't get much sleep, did you?"
"No. Now hurry the heck up, since I don't have much time to explain. I'll wait outside."
Fee marched out, leaving a dazed Matt to haphazardly throw his clothes on in accordance to his friend's request. Once done, he went outside to greet her, rubbing his eyes from exhaustion.
"What's the rush, Fee?" Matt mumbled. Fee responded by putting a finger to her lips, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him in her desired direction. Before she could even face away from him, however, their escape was interrupted by the familiar and squeaky voice of a certain pigtailed rival.
"Mr. Roger, Mr. Roger! I found them!" Linda announced, pointy a finger at the duo as the addressed old man walked to stand behind her. He patted her head approvingly, his face growing stern as he glared at Fee with intense contempt.
"Young lady, I believe you're perfectly aware that your 'master plans' won't work any longer. You are going to attend whether you like it or not."
Fee pursed her lips; her pucker quickly turning downwards as her eyes flickered to Linda. "Tattletale," she hissed.
"That's enough. Linda will lead you to get into the proper attire. As for you, young man," Roger said, turning his attention to Matt. "I won't have an accomplice anywhere near the mastermind. You'll be coming with me."
Matt gave one last concerned look towards Fee before he ran to walk behind Roger. "Uh, where are we going, anyway? I haven't been told anything."
"Well, today is the Rankings Ceremony, and everyone will be gathering in the auditorium--"
"We have an auditorium?!"
"You don't seem to get out much, do you?"
"Well, those games won't play themselves."
"…Of course…."
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Matt kicked his feet back and forth as he sat in his uncomfortable chair in the farthest end of the auditorium. He stared aimlessly at the ceiling; counting the cracks as he wondered how long before Fee would arrive. He jumped when a pair of arms grabbed him in a chokehold from behind; hot breathe blowing frighteningly down his neck.
"Laugh, and I'll kill you."
"….F-Fee?" he sputtered, attempting to turn around despite the chokehold. "Why would I laugh?"
"Just promise, idiot!"
"Okay, okay! I promise I won't laugh."
Cautiously, Fee released him, grabbing the empty chair beside him with brute force while sitting down in a huff. Matt's eyes widened as he observed her from head to toe, the new outfit she wore having rendered him speechless.
"….Are you wearing a dress?"
"Just shut up. As if I wasn't feeling angry enough I had to attend this stupid thing, now I have to sit here while wearing this retarded dress!" she cried, throwing her arms up in disgust. After a moment, she bent over to pet her rain boots, her expression showing what almost looked like affection for an article of clothing. " There was no way I was going to let that stupid Roger make me change my boots, though. My poor babies…."
Fearsome blue eyes snapped toward the redheaded boy, looking almost animalistic. "You agree, right?"
Matt nodded frantically, sending wisps of his hair flying over his eyes. "Y-Yeah, you shouldn't be forced to change. But….uh," he stuttered. "You don't look terrible either."
Fee blinked a few times, her mind devoid of a response. Once back in reality, she smirked, putting both hands on her hips. "Well of course, you don't need to remind me. I already know I'm quite the looker."
The conversation of the two was ended when the abrupt shrieking of the auditorium microphone came over the speakers. At the head of the room stood Roger, awkwardly tapping the mic as the room fell into silence. "Good afternoon, children, and welcome to the annual Rakings Ceremony, in which you will all receive your House number according to your academics and success in your designated talent. We will begin with number 200 and work our way up."
One by one, Roger worked at the tedious task of announcing the numbers and congratulating each orphan. Matt caught himself falling asleep more than once, but was surprised that Fee remained attentive and eager throughout the whole ordeal, despite her original protest to even coming. Once Roger said he was to announce the Top Ten, the subtle roar from whispering throughout the auditorium was silenced as everyone perked up to see who had become this year's elite.
"The orphan with the honor of receiving Tenth in the orphanage is…," Roger began, pausing as though to purposefully add to the tension. Fee sat up straight, her expression cross as she waited for the answer.
"…Miss Fee, congratulations," Roger murmured, his happiness for her dulled when compared to his previous announcements.
Matt smiled brightly, turning towards his companion; expectant she would share the same feelings of pride. Much to his confusion, he noticed her previous eagerness dissipated, replaced with a look of both forced indifference and underlying hurt. She sat slightly hunched over as she knocked her boots together, gripping the end of her chair. Matt opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was muted by Roger's next announcement.
"Now, the orphan receiving the spot of Ninth, who is also a well known and most likely our most gifted artist, will be Miss Linda. Congratulations."
Hopping up from her seat, Linda grinned at the entire room, earning a small applause from her surrounding peers. After the applause, Roger continued to announce the remaining numbers until he had reached the Top Three.
"Now, the Top Three of Wammy's is a most prestigious achievement, and should be treated as such. The following children are truly gifted, starting now with the one receiving the title of Third. That child is….young Matt. Congratulations."
Matt's jaw dropped at the mention of his name, the same reaction occurring with Fee almost simultaneously. After gathering her sanity, Fee leapt out of her seat and tackled Matt into a congratulatory hug. "You friggin' made THIRD! You're amazing, Matt!" she cried, making his face turn as red as his hair.
"Now, next in line, receiving the spot of Second, is….Mello. Congratulations."
"YEAH WILLY! YOU GO, GIRL!"
"SHUT UP, FEE!"
"….And now, for the moment we have all been waiting for. The gifted child who will be receiving the title of First in Wammy's is…Near. Congratulations."
The entire auditorium turned to stare in awe at the boy who was apparently Near, gawking at how strange he seemed for first in all of Wammy's. He sat silently with a strand of his own white locks between his fingers; indifferent upon receiving the throne as smartest among all 200 people in the room with him.
"What a weirdo….Awesome," Fee remarked, getting up from her chair on cue with the rest of the children in the auditorium. People scrambled to compare ranks and to admire those higher than their own, while some went around to gloat at their inferiors.
Linda was a member included in those "some".
"Well, well, Fee," Linda snorted as she approached her and Matt. "It seems like you're not only a second-rate artist, but a second-rate student as well. If you'll excuse me, I'm off to sketch the best in the house."
"Oh, can I come?" Matt offered, despite the look of disapproval from Fee. Linda tilted her head to the side, sticking her bottom lip out. "Aw, sorry Matt, I said I was going to sketch the best. And…well, you're….third. Maybe next time, okay?"
As Linda skipped off with her pigtails bouncing in step, Matt's smile faded into a frown. Fee looked up at him curiously, taking a moment before she grabbed the corners of his mouth and tugged upwards.
"Ow! Vhat the hreck?!" he yelled incoherently.
"You look better smiling, so quit that puppy dog look you have going on already," she mumbled, wiping her thumbs on her dress after she moved her hands away. She stalked off in a hurry, leaving Matt standing by his lonesome.
"Wait! Where are we going now?"
"You mean where am I going? None of your business, and you shouldn't follow. I have stuff to do."
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Matt leaned against the door to Fee's room, trying to listen for movement inside. He hadn't seen or heard from the girl in over three days, and it make him worry profusely. Having had enough, Matt knocked only once before inviting himself in, ready to demand a reason for receiving such a cold shoulder. What he saw, however, caught him completely off guard.
On the wall closest to her bed, Fee had painted a mural; the remains of her supplies and paints still strewn about on the carpet. The art piece was of a smiling, redheaded boy in a striped shirt, with the drawing of a heart that appeared to be stitched up on the upper left corner of his clothes. Matt felt as though he were looking into a mirror; the drawing seemingly ready to spring to life at any moment. Beside the mural, she scribbled down in small and delicate handwriting:
Linda is retarded. Hope this fixes things.
Turning to his right, however, Matt was disheartened to see Fee's sleeping form on the floor, curled in a fetal position into the corner she named The Sadness. The black that blanketed the corner seemed to have grown; evidenced by the black sharpie Fee still grasped in her hand.
Making himself comfortable, Matt took a seat beside her on the carpet, sitting in silence while she slept. He moved only every once in a while to tentatively wipe the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"...And if it makes you less sad, I'll take your pictures all down. Every picture you paint, I will paint myself out..." -"The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot" by Brand New.