AN: Another long chapter... Oh, and thanks to all reviewers!
And now, enter dramatic music the antagonist is finally introduced! He'll be appearing plenty in a few more chapters. The story can't stay happy forever; enjoy it while it lasts... And now for Mattie's birthday surprise! XD
What was that, what was that, what the hell was that?
It was the only thought that passed through the mind of the dark-haired young man as he hastily paced from corner to corner of what seemed to be some kind of exotic waiting room, his eyes not caring to take in the luxurious surroundings, as his mind was focused on much more important matters.
It was not the first time he had been to this room, and he hoped to Mary, Joseph, and Jesus that it would not be his last, but if his …manager (what, boss? Leader? Superior? He wasn't really sure what word applied to their precarious situation, probably all of them, probably more) held him at all responsible for what had happened…he shuddered to think of what might occur.
The onyx black couch on one side of the room made of genuine Italian leather lay vacant, forsaken instead for the man's nervous pacing, the heels of his shoes creating a steady clapping rhythm against the dark red mahogany floors. Even the hand-painted frescos on the wall, depicting some kind of tropical island complete with copious different species of fruit trees, and what could only be assumed to be the island's dark skinned inhabitants, did nothing to relax his rattled nerves.
In utter opposition to the room, he himself was a horrible mess. His choppy black hair appeared tangled, and full of different debris, some that looked suspiciously like human blood clinging and falling slowly from the edges of his bangs, and his face was a sallow gaunt white, the perfect image of unadulterated fear. All of this was dwarfed in comparison to the wild look of panic in his dark coal eyes.
He wrung his hands together, not even noticing as he rubbed them raw, and tiny flecks of blood and skin added themselves to his already soiled, once white undershirt. Luckily the mess didn't show up much on the black of his dark suit. It looked like it had once been a nice suit, just as he looked like he had once been a sane man, but both ideas were ludicrous now as it was plain for anyone to see that was not the case, leaving only the nervous wreck of a man, wearing a once-brilliant suit.
He leapt in the air when the door across from the couch opened, and another suited man, though a much saner looking one, informed him that they were ready for him to be seen now.
The man bobbed his head in acknowledgement, sadly reminiscent of one of those celebrity bobble heads people often kept on the hoods of their cars. He treaded slowly into the room. eyes darting to every corner and shadow of what appeared to be some kind of meeting room. A long slick oval table was the only object in the room, other than the six chairs on either side, and one chair at the head of the table. The only chair that was occupied. The lighting was not entirely dim, but his eyes struggled to adjust to the difference between the bright lighting of the previous room and this one in order to get a good look at the other occupant of the room, though he already knew who it was.
He struggled to form a coherent sentence but was saved the effort when the other spoke first.
"Jason, relax. I am not here to punish you. I know what happened was in no way your fault, I just want to get your own story of whatever it was that did occur over there this evening. It's very important that we find out for everyone's sake."
As Jason's eyes finally adapted to the lighting, he was able to see the casual manner in which his superior held himself, and also the friendly reassuring smile meant for his own sake, and he felt the knot of tension in his gut at last relax.
It was going to be okay. He hadn't done anything wrong, and it was going to be okay.
Letting out a gasp of relief, he sunk into his chair as his muscles loosened, and chanted this over and over in his head.
His superior smiled, glad that he had been able to put Jason at ease, and asked his first question as he folded his hands together on top of the table.
"Now then, tell me exactly what happened, and where things went wrong."
Jason nodded in response, black curls of hair bouncing back and forth along with his head.
"It was…" and he began slowly, making sure to describe everything that had happened in excruciating detail. He wanted to make sure he didn't leave anything out for fear of later consequences.
His boss nodded his understanding as the black-haired youth gave his perspective on what had happened, as Jason explained first how things had been going as planned, and then how the electronic system had suddenly started malfunctioning, and then at last, how the scarred man had entered the building, disposing of all of the scientists in a matter of minutes, and coming out with only an bullet graze on his arm, all the while with Jason hidden in a tiny camera less observation room, with only a small slit in the near-invisible door for him to see what was going on. The slit of course had been meant for him to observe that the scientists did as the two groups had agreed upon, and that they lived up to their end of the bargain. He had not planned on witnessing their massacre.
Jason finished recalling the event abruptly, the memories of that day obviously very fresh in his mind and causing is nerves to start up again.
His superior remained sitting calmly on his side of the table, the only sign of having heard anything of the chaos that had ensued was the way he brushed a hand through his well-groomed, also dark locks of hair, though if anything, the issue was just another nuisance to deal with. It happened every once in a while. A new group of thugs moved into the city and tried to make a name for themselves by taking out a rival. The only distinguishing aspect of the story was Jason's claim that it had been one man alone. He blamed that observation on the fact that the silly boy had obviously been too scared to think straight, and Jason himself had admitted that the lights had been messed with. Still, if he wanted to take care of the issue before it could cause further issues, he would have to have some kind of physical description to start working with.
"Alright then Jason, one more question, and then you're free for the night, if you could just tell me what they-excuse me, he looked like? Any distinguishing features other then the burn scar on his face?" he waited silently for an answer not really expecting much. He had never heard of anyone local who had a burn scar across his face, supporting his idea that it was someone new to the area.
"We-well sir, he was blonde…" The boy trailed off seemingly trying to remember anything else that might help.
Then upon remembering, his head shot up.
"There was one other thing…" he began, but stopped, uncertain if it was relevant.
His superior nodded in encouragement, "Go on."
"It didn't really have to do with what he looked like, but…he, the whole time, and afterwards, he was eating…eating chocolate." At first he'd been unsure of what the man had been eating, but now that he recalled it, he was sure it was chocolate, remembering the loud snap it made over and over again, a sound he was sure he'd never be able to hear again without flinching.
He glanced up expecting to see the politely uninterested look on his boss's face that he got whenever Jason said something especially pointless or stupid, and was shocked and somewhat frightened to see something else entirely.
Every bit of calm that he had left fled him at the look of utter fury on his superior's chalk-white face, but the look was only there for a moment before it was concealed again behind a cool mask of charmed indifference.
"Are you absolutely positive about that last little bit, Jason?" and though the words and facial expression were serene, he somehow knew the intent was anything but.
He nodded vigorously, and refused to meet the man's eyes again.
It was only when he heard the uttered, "You're free to go," that his head shot up momentarily, if only to nod in courtesy, and he dashed from the room.
The man watched his underling flee the room in terror, and would have taken some pleasure in his ability to instill fear had his mind not been on other, more important issues at hand.
As much as he couldn't believe it, there was no possible way there were two men in the world with that disgusting habit. He could almost hear the tell-tale snap of teeth breaking off a piece of the cocoa based sweet.
He smiled slowly, and widely, suddenly happier than he'd been in a long time.
"For you, Em," he spoke aloud to no one in the room.
"Finally, for you."
-- -- -- -- --
The door to the apartment opened softly, admitting a cold gust of wind from outside as the black-clad boy slipped back into the still-dark apartment, shaking snow off the thick leather jacket (with lots of punk/gothic looking zippers and buttons) he had just bought. Squinting and blinking to adjust his eyes to the newfound dimness of the closed blinds, Mello pulled off his large sunglasses and set them on the counter along with a medium-sized metal suitcase.
He smirked at his prize, breathing heavily on his hands in order to warm his frozen fingers. Damn snow. He still wasn't used to this weather. But nevermind that, Mello thought in dark satisfaction. It appeared that the police chief had delivered on his promise. After almost pissing himself, Mello recalled with a malicious grin. Damn, did he love instilling that look in people's eyes.
Yawning suddenly, the blonde glanced at the clock on the microwave, mildly surprised it was already 3:30pm. Well, not that he should've been, really, he mused. He had only woken up around an hour ago, and that only because he was freezing his ass off because Matt had stolen all the goddam blankets.
Well, at least it had given him time to take a quick shower and go out to grab his prize from yesterday without having to deal with a sleep-groggy Matt trying to explain to him he hadn't actually meant to try to make Mello catch his death of a cold because he was a selfish bastard for hogging all the blankets.
Mello blinked suddenly. Wait, how the hell had he even gotten into the (as he recalled, plushy, king-sized) bed? He could've sworn he'd passed out on the couch last night.
Oh, shit. He didn't...
Dammit! He must've! Oh, God, that was mortifying!
Scowling to himself at the prospect of being carried like a goddam baby to his bed, Mello set about rummaging in the fridge for something to eat, having been too cold to think about food while outside. Unfortunately, however, he remembered they hadn't gone grocery shopping yet, leaving only his leftover Carl's Jr. chicken sandwich, a few sodas, some liquid Tylenol, and his chocolate stash as the sole inhabitants of the refrigerator. There were some chips on the floor of the living room, he recalled vaguely, but he was almost sure they were only the wrappers. Jesus, Matt was such a pig.
Deciding an almond Hershey's was about as good a breakfast--well, lunch-- as he was going to get, Mello shoved the fridge closed and set about making some coffee.
Which, incidentally, was always Matt's job.
After a while, the reason became clear because soon the strong smells of coffee beans and burning mingled in the air and the blonde suddenly found himself having to toss the black sludge in the coffee pot out the window in a sort of horrified panic. He fcking swore that thing had just moved!
Scowling and issuing a string of very profound curses, mostly in his native Yugoslavian, Mello tried to fan all the disgusting burning-coffee smell out the front door before stalking toward the bedroom. Well, damn. That was the last fcking time he tried to be nice and make the coffee instead of Matt. The stupid substance was much harder to make than it had appeared.
Still grumbling under his breath, Mello toed the door to the bedroom open slowly, finding Matt sprawled out across the entire bed and snoring softly.
Rolling his eyes at the sight, the blonde moved toward the window, slowly opening the blinds a crack.
Something wasn't right. Matt knew it instinctively, without even having to open his eyes. No, something was horribly, horribly wrong. His skin was itchy, his eyes screamed to be kept shut, and the smallest irritation seemed to sizzle away at the skin of his cheek. Slowly, achingly, painfully.
No! He knew that obnoxious tingle on his face; it was an old enemy he was much too familiar with, come back to haunt him in his peaceful sleep once again.
Damn sunlight!
Grumbling loudly, he pulled the covers up over his head, whining indiscernibly something that might have been, "you won't win this time…you…fiend...," before he nestled himself back into a ball of blankets, pillows, and Matt, content to fall back to sleep now that he was no longer threatened by the stinging rays of light.
Mello blinked, glaring at the fortress of blankets Matt had surrounded himself in, and gave an exasperated sigh, putting a fist on his hip.
"Matt, you lazy bastard, get your ass up already!" he growled, stalking toward the bed threateningly. "It's almost 4 in the afternoon, dammit!"
He leaned over the mound of steadily snoring covers and jabbed a finger about where he judged Matt's ribcage should be. "By the time you drag your scrawny ass out of bed, the arcade will be closed, you dolt!"
Matt sat up in bed slowly, his eyes watering as the sudden glare of sunlight assaulted his vision. He scanned the room through squinted eyes, in search of his beloved goggles, and then cursed under his breath when he remembered he had left them in the kitchen last night. He settled in stead for shielding his eyes from the blazing rays of sunshine with one hand. It was better at least, then nothing for his unusually photosensitive eyes. A trait he was sure he'd picked up from his own reclusive nocturnal habits. It was going to take a while to get completely used to the sun again.
Recalling the words of the blonde haired man who had hauled him from the comfort of sleep, he reached for his phone and bleared through sleepy green eyes until the colors on the screen began to make sense.
Holy crap, it was almost 4. That would definitely be too late...to…go to…
To go to…huh?
Wait a second. His thoughts ground to a screeching stop.
What?
Had he heard right? There was no way. He had to have heard wrong.
Then again, it was Mello speaking, and it wasn't very often Matt heard him wrong. It was kind of a self-preservation instinct he had picked up on through the years. If Mello was speaking, he had better damn listen.
He'd been punched, kicked, and pistol-whipped for his inattention more then enough times for that instinct to take hold. The only exception of course being when he was playing on his DS. If that was the case, it was up to the blonde to get his attention.
The point being, even just waking, he was usually pretty good at listening to the blonde, which lead him to believe that he had heard right.
Sure. That made sense. Not.
Even his reasoning in his head sounded lame.
"Um," he started lamely, not wanting to sound like an idiot, but seriously curious as to what the hell the blonde had said.
"What was that last part? I missed it…" he stared disbelievingly at the older boy, somewhat suspicious of the answer.
Mello shot him another completely exasperated look. "Are you fcking deaf?" he growled. "Ass out of bed. Get dressed. NOW."
He rolled his blue eyes as if he were being forced into contact with some retarded child. "I don't know when the damn arcade closes, seeing as that's usually your grounds of expertise, but I'm pretty sure if you keep insisting on being a goddam couch potato any longer, it's not gonna be a good thing for you."
With another vicious stab toward the other boy's thickly blanketed middle, Mello grinned, baring sharp canines and leering at Matt with an unnerving shine in his azure eyes.
"Do I make myself quite clear, you deaf lazy lout?"
Despite the nagging suspicion that he had in fact not been woken up and was still sleeping, or that some kind of body snatcher-like creatures had invaded the planet and were trying secretly to replace all of mankind with visually identical clones that were actually robots in disguise, or possibly zombies, (though they were doing a terrible job of trying to remain inconspicuous and imitate the personality of their host subject if they thought that Mello inviting Matt to an arcade was any kind of semblance of normal) he managed to refrain from spewing the immediate and overused "What are you and what have you done with Mello?".
Just barely.
Instead of fighting it though, he figured why not go with it. Either Mello had taken some serious damage to his head the night before, or the boy standing in front of him was actually the inhabitant of another planet attempting world domination, in which case Matt figured for aliens trying to take over the world and exterminate all of humanity, it could have been much worse then opting to go to an arcade.
Like, they could have been those freaky things from Halo that had given him nightmares for a week after the first time he had played it. Talk about creepy. No, he decided, Mello's act of random, well, kindness was more reminiscent of what he would expect of the cute singing green Martians shown at the second secret ending of Silent Hill 3, the ones that had no actual connection to the real plot, but were automatically awesome because they sang and danced.
Laughing slightly manically under his breath, Matt squirmed out of the blankets holding him hostage and made his way to the bathroom, grabbing a set of fresh clothes and a towel on the way. He was in fact so lost in his own freakish imagination that he didn't even bother to spare a second glance at the blonde. Partly because his mind was elsewhere, dreaming of arcade style Tekken and House of the Dead, partly because he had just woken up, and partly because he half believed he was still dreaming.
It took all of 30 seconds after he had shut the door, turned the shower on, and stripped to nothing but a towel around his waist before he opened the bathroom door once more spilling the billows of steam that had begun to form into the bedroom, this time towel-clad, and a combination of childish glee, disbelief, and elated hope spreading across his face. After five full minutes of being awake he had finally managed to gain the use of all of his senses, and realized that Mello in fact was not an alien, thus prompting him to prop the door open and in what could only be described as the tone of voice coming from a child whom had just been led to a candy shop and told they could have anything they wanted, verified one last time.
"Really?"
There was a second of silence wherein the two boys stared silently at each other, hopeful green eyes meeting sharp blue, and then the blonde threw his hands up suddenly in exasperation, letting out a loud and theatrical sigh. "Jesus Christ, Matt, get your goddam ears checked already. You have 20 minutes and if you don't have your ass out of that door and on the street waving down a cab by exactly half past four, you can bet all your stupid game consoles that I'm never letting you go to an arcade ever again."
And with that, the blonde turned sharply on his heel and stalked out of the room.
He did his best to keep the wide smirk off his face until he had slammed the door shut behind him, but only barely succeeded. God, was it fun to screw with Matt.
Though seriously, he wondered, unsure whether to be darkly pleased or offended, surely a decently kind gesture for his best friend on his birthday wasn't all THAT unbelievable coming from him... was it?
Shrugging it off and still grinning musingly to himself, Mello shuffled into the kitchen and began to fan the stove with the plastic covers to one of Matt's video games in an attempt to clear the last remnants of the smell of burnt coffee.
— — —
Matt wasn't one to take long showers, but even so must have set a new record with the inhuman speed at which he showered, dressed, and was out. He was still toweling his auburn locks dry when he stepped out of the bathroom, unruly bangs still dripping on the floor as the remaining steam from his shower spilled out in hot waves and dissipated upon meeting the open air.
He had no idea what had happened to plant such an idea in his best friend's mind, but sure as hell was going to take advantage of it.
He continued towel drying his hair with one hand while the other fiddled with the lace of his left boot trying awkwardly to tie the string up with only his left hand. He eventually gave up the seemingly impossible task, dropping the towel and deeming his hair dry enough, in order to utilize both hands to tie the damn shoe. After succeeding in putting on both of his black calf high boots, he practically skipped to the closet, grabbing a thick black windbreaker to keep the cold out from under his thin black and white striped long sleeved tee shirt.
He sprinted to the door beaming as he waited for the blonde to turn around from doing whatever it was he was doing, and realize that not only was the exuberant gamer ready on time, but he was even ready a whole ten minutes early.
Hey, he moved fast when it was a matter of high importance.
He stood with his hand at his forehead in mock salute as he so loved to do, bangs still slightly damp and clinging to his forehead, unable to contain the excited grin that had slipped into place.
He was going to an arcade! And what could possibly be better then going to an arcade? As he tried to answer the question himself while waiting for the blonde to turn around, the answer came to his mind.
Going to an arcade with his best friend. And his smile grew, if possible, even wider.
And when Mello finally turned around to notice the gamer standing at the door, he was met with the ridiculous sight of Matt standing there like a moron, one palm raised in the air, and an idiotic grin plastered across his glowing face.
Mello blinked, then barely contained the burst of laughter that tried to sneak past his supposedly stern expression. "Good. Finally," he added wryly, despite the fact Matt was actually early.
Grabbing his keys off the countertop and setting down the makeshift videogame-cover fan, Mello quickly slipped on his new jacket, zipping it up in satisfaction and rushing to the (still really frikkin' hot) bathroom to squint at his foggy reflection in the mirror. Ooh, he liked it. It was totally worth 200, he decided, flashing himself a grin then strolling back out to the living room where Matt was waiting by the door, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. Geez, what a little kid.
Mello rolled his eyes at him, gesturing him out the door and the other practically bolted toward the part of the corner street where the taxis usually accumulated.
Locking the door with an amused grin, Mello followed, pleased to find Matt already giving directions to the taxi driver. Er, good thing actually, now that Mello thought about it. He had no idea where anything was yet and ... Hey, wait. Exactly how did Matt know, anyway?
Growling to himself about idiotic otaku who obviously wasted their spare time, Mello for once decided to forsake his usual shotgun position and slid instead into the back seat with Matt with a soft rustle of leather
"How long?" he inquired of the taxi driver, glaring critically at the little device attached to the dashboard of the vehicle which told him how much money was being stolen from his wallet every mile. Well, he would've taken his bike, he thought in retrospect, but he wasn't too good at driving in the snow and didn't feel like trying it in the dark. Actually, he was just being lazy and content to know he had more than plenty to spend on leisure. A taxi would do.
The man in the driver's seat shrugged as they attempted to accelerate on the crowded street. "'Bout ten-feefteen meenutes," he replied in a heavy Middle Eastern accent.
Mello scowled, then decided it wasn't too bad and shrugged it off, pulling a chocolate bar from his pocket and shooting Matt a sidelong glance.
"Hey, Matt," he ventured after a few minutes. "I think we need a new coffee pot. ...Or some really strong cleaner," he suggested casually, licking at the corner of his candy. One good thing about this coldweather, the blonde thought absently, was that his chocolate didn't melt even if it stayed in his pocket all day.
Matt cocked his head inquiringly in Mello's direction before he remembered vaguely the smell of something burning, or rather something burned, as they had left the apartment. Hmm, now that he took a minute to think about it, any sane person probably would have checked to see what exactly in his own living space had burned and how, before leaving the building. He frowned for a second before dismissing the thought with a cheery 'oh well.'
He chuckled a bit at Mello's words, having long ago learned of the dangers of the blonde being allowed anywhere near a kitchen other then for eating purposes. Really, if Mello was dangerous with a gun, then he was downright lethal with the power of a stove, microwave, and oven at the tips of his fingers. He wouldn't wish that on anyone.
Wait, no he would.
He would wish it on that Takada bitch who was almost responsible for both of their deaths. He smiled evilly at the thought of the stupid tramp's head sticking out of an oven.
Heh, cook until golden brown.
Okay, so maybe there were some advantages to Mello's accident-proneness in a kitchen.
He realized he hadn't responded yet to Mello's comment, having gotten too lost fantasizing about the different ways to make that woman suffer. He wasn't a sadistic person by nature, not like the boy sitting next to him, but that horrible woman had almost cost them everything, and even if she had already met her own end, ironically by the man she claimed to love and with the tool of death she had used at his command, no kind of hell was good enough for her.
He shook his head to clear the morbid thoughts attempting to clutter his mind. Today was about having fun, and he wouldn't let a ghost of their past ruin it.
Smiling, he turned to face his friend, noticing that they were now only a few minutes away from their destination when he recognized one of the businesses outside of the window.
"The coffee maker? Do I even want to know?" his smirk said that he already did.
The blonde shrugged, munching in satisfaction on his candy bar. "The machine was defective. There's no other explanation to it."
He followed Matt's gaze out the window, wondering vaguely if he was smiling in such a sadistic fashion in anticipation of some sort of shooting game at the arcade.
In a few more minutes, the cab stopped outside an obnoxiously bright flashing sign Mello didn't bother to remember the name of as he handed some bills to the driver, even remembering to tip a little. Hell, he was in a surprisingly good mood tonight. He could spare two bucks. Damn, it had to suck having to drive strangers who probably often smelled funny all around the ever congested streets of the most crowded city in the United States. Oh, well, life was hard. People had to deal with it.
Still happily gnawing on the sweet brown substance in hand, Mello followed Matt, whose eyes were about as huge as tea plates, into the nauseatingly bright, loud, and flashing room ahead.
Azure eyes scanned the myriad of beeping, buzzing, flickering machines suddenly surrounding him as the gaping gamer by his side stared around with huge eyes like a child who had just been told he could have anything in the world's biggest toy store.
The noise was insufferable and the sporadically glaring lights were sure to induce a seizure.
Dammit, why am I doing this again? Mello almost groaned, but reminded himself that it could possibly be fun. Maybe.
He had played some shooting games with Matt before. He could usually win, so he liked those.
Thus, he grabbed his friend's arm due to the probable uselessness of words in this noisy place, and pulled him over-- before he could escape to a game Mello totally sucked at-- to some large booth-looking thing with worn paintings of the evil undead on the sides. Picking up the red plastic pistol, Mello looked at it skeptically, missing the cold weight of his usual weapons, then just shrugged.
"Betcha can't hit as many as me, lazy ass that you are," he half-shouted over the din, grinning tauntingly at Matt.
The gamer smirked wickedly at the challenge.
"Are you kidding me? We're on my turf now. You're on," he boasted, grabbing the dark blue gun from it's holster, spinning it once in the air, catching it expertly in his right hand, and blowing an imaginary puff of smoke from it's barrel.
Mello may trump him in anything else, but this, this was his forte, though admittedly the blonde was exceptionally good at the games of the shooting variety. Figured.
Pshhh. The cheater. He'd had an unfair amount of practice in the Mob. Still, it was always more fun to play a worthy challenger, and so the brunette didn't hold this little unfair advantage over Mello's head.
His jammed some coins into the machine and then focused on the screen as the intro music began to play, and several different types of zombies and monsters filled the monitor, moaning, hissing, and making other such intimidating sounds. The monsters were followed by the arrival of two top secret agents whose job it was to rid the world of the decimating parasites eradicating humanity. Matt's character was a typical agent, good looking, black suit, big gun, nothing really distinctive. Mello's was the same, with a few small differences, like, say, the mini skirt and breasts.
Well, Mello had chosen the red gun. He snickered aloud but otherwise said nothing, waiting for the horrible video game voice actors to stop their insistent whining so that they could get to the real action.
"Remember Mello, you lose points when you shoot the civilians."
It was only fair to warn the blonde, after all, he did want it to be a fair fight, and knowing Mello, the former mafia boss, current bounty hunter, he was probably pretty likely to shoot at anything that moved.
Now, Matt could feel guilt free when the blonde was utterly and completely pwned.
He bit his bottom lip in concentration, eyes narrowed and ready to shoot at a moment's notice.
Mello shot the brunette a quick glance before locking his eyes on the screen as well, aiming the gun expertly. "I know that, Matt," he snapped back testily. "I've played before, you idiot." Yeah, years ago, it seemed. Still, he knew that the people not falling apart and raining rotting bits of themselves while trying to eat him were probably not the zombies he was supposed to shoot. Jeesus, it didn't take a genius to figure out.
Though he was of course a genius.
Smirking rather pompously, Mello watched his side of the screen as the little light in the corner flashed a small "start" sign and the music changed to some corny action tune. Then some hellish fugly things jumped out and he started pulling the trigger madly, vaguely pissed at the fact it didn't work as smoothly as he was used to. It was somehow also too easy to pull, throwing him off somewhat and he cursed loudly when the red flash on the screen let him know he had suffered some sort of damage.
"Hell no, die you fugly bastard!" he growled a little overzealously, shooting offscreen briefly to reload (what a ridiculous way of doing it) and releasing a volley of invisible bullets into the three-headed zombie dog attacking his slim and busty character. With another growl, Mello bared his teeth devilishly, competitive nature kicking in when he chanced a quick glance at Matt's fully green health bar.
Matt stood at the blonde's side emptying round after round of ammunition into every slimy creature that crawled itss way across the screen, expertly avoiding the occasional innocent citizen that seemed to spring up out of nowhere at the most inopportune times.
He cursed aloud as he barely missed throwing a grenade at a tiny pigtailed little girl, but just managed to divert the grenade to the monster behind her at the last minute, gaining an extra health supply, and a gracious, "Thank you ever so much!" from miss pigtails. He reloaded, a smile of satisfaction crossing his face as he noted his near perfect health.
He chanced a glance at his playing partner out of the corner of his vision, and was not surprised in the least to see a look of extreme intensity burning in Mello's icy blue eyes. He felt a strange sense of pride at being able to illicit that look from the over-competitive blonde; after all, though he had witnessed it more times then he could count, it wasn't too often the hardcore gamer was the cause of it, and generally he was glad of that fact.
It was just nice to know that Mello saw him as an equal in at least one thing, even if it was just videogames. There weren't too many areas where the two could be called equivalent to each other. When it came to any kind of technical and computer related issues, Matt knew best, and when it was strategy and physical or mental combat, the blonde always took the lead. Games like these where they could work together and still compete for an individual score were perfect for the two of them.
He cursed once more when his thoughts were interrupted by some kind of giant green puss oozing tree that had managed to do his character damage.
Oh hell no. That tree was going down.
After finishing off the mutated tree, and subsequently the game, the two stood at the machine waiting to see their scores pop up. Honestly he could have cared less, but knew Mello would throw a hissy fit if they moved on to another game without knowing who had "won".
He watched as the scores flashed across the screen, both high scores, very close but separated by a few measly points.
The outcome had been as expected, and Matt grinned broadly as he waited to see the blonde's reaction.
Mello gaped at the screen arms hanging at his sides with one hand still loosely gripping the plastic pistol, and quickly did the math in his head.
He rounded on Matt, seething, "You bastard! You beat me by FOUR points! That is so not right!" He punched Matt's shoulder with an annoyed grunt which almost sounded like a suppressed laugh.
Fck. Can't believe I got docked for shooting that old man. It was his goddam fault for jumping out right in front if me! Shaking his head, Mello slammed the pistol back into its little holder in front of the screen. Dammit, Matt wasn't going to let him live this down anytime soon, was he? The cocky bastard...
Heh, Matt chuckled, if only Mello hadn't shot that old man, he might have won the game. It wasn't surprising though, he'd known the blonde was too impulsive to take the time to distinguish friend from foe, and it was pretty hard even for a seasoned player like himself to be prepared for. Ah well, couldn't say he hadn't warned him.
He looked up, gaze wandering all over the arcade, trying to decide which game to play next and felt himself grow giddy once again at the sight of everything that lay before him. He hunted for his next victim, and his eyes lit up as they fell across a particularly spectacular device, or rather two next to each other, with pads that seemed to light up at the foot of the machine, and a screen that flashed multi colored lights in every which was, sure to induce a seizure.
Hell. Yes.
Before the blonde could follow the direction of his gaze, and the train of his thoughts, he had grabbed Mello's arm, and was off in a flash, sprinting for the game before anyone else could claim it.
"Matt, what the f--?" Mello tried to demand of the rabid gamer he had made the mistake of releasing into his element, but didn't manage to get the words quite out before he suddenly found himself on some sort of raised platform and staring at another brightly flashing screen. This time, however, there were no familiar guns nearby.
"Holy--Matt, what the hell?" he glared at the brunette, staring down at the arrows by his feet. He thought he knew, but no... couldn't be... Like hell he'd ever play such a ridiculous--
But Matt had already put in the coins and stepping off now would be the same as giving up. "Shit," the blonde growled under his breath. "What do I do again? Just...step on them?" he demanded of the gamer who was now scrolling through the plethora of obnoxious songs in this game. Jesus, honestly, this was utterly... retarded.
Holding back a laugh at the blonde's obvious confusion (which in Matt's opinion was due entirely to video game deprivation), he momentarily turned his attention from the game settings, to his lost friend.
"Here," he said as he made his way onto Mello's dance pad. He stepped on the bottom arrow repeatedly for a minute before stepping back off, and looking back up at his friend. "All you have to do is make sure you hit the corresponding arrows when the symbols that are scrolling up the page match the arrows at the top."
He didn't bother telling Mello that when he had stepped on his pad, he had switched the blonde to a lower setting of difficulty. He did the same to his own dance pad, knowing that if he played 'difficult mode' while Mello played 'beginner mode', it would seriously tick him off. Instead he'd moved Mello to 'light mode', and himself to 'standard mod.' He had faith that his friend could successfully complete a song on that level, and 'standard mode' for himself was as least still a little challenging.
He selected the song 'Kick The Can,' one of his favorites to play, dropped his jacket to the side, and waited for the game to start.
Well, this should be interesting. Another grin plastered itself across his face.
The blonde eyed his friend suspiciously, then glared at his screen, tense and ready. Like hell some little video machine was gonna get the best of him. Matt had already won once. A lot was on the line in this game, like, say, not having to spend the rest of the evening listening to Matt gloat.
Mello cringed when the song started. What an obnoxious piece of shit. Seriously. Matt had no taste in music.
And then the shiny little arrows came up and the blonde barely bit back a curse as he proceeded to stomp on the corresponding light-up arrows at his feet. Damn, the little bastards were coming up the screen fast. He wished he had his plastic gun back. It'd be more fun to shoot them.
"Fck!" he yelled at one point, glancing quickly at Matt. "What do I do when they're all green and long like that?!" He tried holding his foot there, realized it worked, and quickly yelled back, "Nevermind," before Matt could answer. The bastard! He probably looked absolutely ludicrous hopping around on this stupid thing! Damn arrows and lights and shit...
And then, all of a sudden, the arrows went away and Mello stood huffing and glaring murder at the screen that now read "CLEARED" in large orangey-yellow letters.
He was just about to turn and start yelling at Matt for not telling him the exact directions for all the damned arrows when the screen changed again and he couldn't suppress the startled angry shriek that slipped past his lips. "What the fck, a C?!"
"Hey, hey! Chill, Mello, a C isn't all that bad, I mean when I first started this thing I failed like the first 20 times!" the brunette appealed to his friend, hands raised in mock defense, but chuckling faintly under his breath.
He lowered his arms as he continued speaking. "And besides, Mel," he grinned, "It's not like you can expect to be as good as me at this kind of thing." The cocky smirk on his face spoke volumes as he went on, seemingly oblivious to the danger that he was walking into, "I mean, I must admit I am a little surprised though, after all that talk, and now having nothing to show for it? Geez Mello, you must be losing your touch or something. Losing, and twice in a row no doubt!"
Maybe it was the fact that the blonde was being unusually nice, or maybe it was just that they were in public and Matt knew Mello wouldn't pull a gun on him in here, but though he wasn't exactly sure what had given him the guts to tease the blonde as such, he was glad of it. It was just way too amusing and way too good of an opportunity to pass up.
Besides, sure Mello would get annoyed, he couldn't actually get mad at the gamer for all of his teasing.
Just for good measure, and because he was unable to resist, he reached out and patted the top of the blonde's hair a few time, smile remaining in place.
Wide blue eyes stared back at him in incensed shock, icy blue fire, as the blonde seethed silently, mouth agape, literally trembling in rage. "Oh, you fcking bastard," he finally managed to hiss, lunging suddenly and shoving the brunette against the metal bar behind the dance pad. He stood there, spluttering random cuss words for lack of anything else to say, still holding Matt pinned hard against the steel, before he finally shoved off, turning on his heel and crossing his arms sulkily. "You're such a cowardly bastard, Matt," he hissed finally, sounding almost offended. "Taking advantage just because you know I won't really kick your ass too bad on your birthday." He shot a glare over his shoulder, blue eyes burning with that I'm not a loser! look Matt knew so well by now, and spat, "But I fcking swear, you just keep pushing me and I might just forget about that, you prick..."
It was Matt's turn to look shocked now, though probably not for the reasons Mello had intended. He stared at the blonde in confusion, mouth slightly open, and eyebrows knit together in deep thought.
"Did you say…" but he cut himself off as everything fell into place in his mind. Mello's reason for being so exceptionally friendly, not to mention merciful. Still even now that he knew, he was a little surprised to have forgotten himself, and couldn't help but voice the only thought circulating in his head at the moment.
"It's my birthday?"
He hadn't meant to yell it as loudly as he did, but he was genuinely shocked to have forgotten. More than that even, he had forgotten and Mello had remembered.
Damn. He was getting old or something, forgetting his own birthday.
The blonde whirled, staring at Matt in utter shock and something close to rage. His cheeks were slightly flushed as he searched Matt's eyes for the truth. Holy hell, he wasn't kidding. The idiot really hadn't remembered.
"You FORGOT?!" he managed finally. "Oh my fcking God, Matt, I am going to rip out your goddam intestines out and strangle you with them!" he cried, lunging for Matt again, looking an odd mix between embarrassed and livid. And he was being nice and forgiving and shit too! And Matt had FORGOTTEN!! He grabbed Matt's vest threateningly, glaring at him with fiery blue eyes. "You are such an insufferable idiot!! What did you think, the goddam Generosity Fairy visited me in the night?! You don't even deserve this anymore, you bastard!"
But the wide-eyed look of shocked surprise as everything dawned on the brunette didn't go away and the huge grin that had spread slowly over his face didn't fade even as Mello slammed him against the DDR machine none too gently.
The blonde blinked, staring at that huge moronic grin and the large green eyes watching him curiously.
Finally, suddenly, a soft bubble of laughter escaped through the angry grimace his lips couldn't quite retain, slowly growing until the blonde found himself gripping the front of Matt's vest no longer in anger but to support himself as an inexplicable wave of mirth hit him and he suddenly couldn't catch his breath from laughing. "Oh...my God...Matt," he managed breathlessly. "I can't...believe-- You fcking... idiot!!"
It took less than 30 seconds for Matt's childish grin to evolve into full-on breath- stopping laughter, a feat that was helped along by merely the sight of the blonde doing the same.
But it was just so…funny!
I mean, honestly? Who the hell forgets their own birthday?!
"I…I am…an…idiot." he gasped between hysterical laughter, his eyes beginning to water, and his stomach beginning to cramp from the nonstop mirth. He grabbed onto the DDR railing for support as he felt himself nearly fall over, then sat down beside it, forgoing standing altogether. It was just too difficult at the moment.
"Oh God, Mel…I really, I mean…I was starting to think you were…I mean…on crack…or something!…I really…didn't get it!" It was all he was able to get out before the hysterics started again.
It was also then that he realized how completely psychotic they must look to other people around them. Two boys falling over themselves cackling, for seemingly no reason. Boy, they must have made a sight to see. The thought of it only made him laugh harder, and he clutched his stomach in pain as it cramped from the abuse.
God, it was the best feeling in the world.
It was just, so much had happened in the last couple of days, and it felt so good to just laugh like this. It was like, like being high off of something good. Just being so incredibly euphoric because sometimes, well, sometimes things were like they'd been a long time ago.
It was a feeling he wouldn't trade for anything else in the world.
After several more moments of it, his stomach couldn't take much more, and he slowly managed to bring himself back under control, though the grin remained intact and whenever he met Mello's eyes, he would release a tiny chuckle.
Damn, this was turning out to be a great birthday.
When he at last felt himself sane enough to move, he smiled brightly in the blonde's direction.
"Where to next? I'll leave it up to you since you are the wonderfully amazing person who brought me here for my birthday." He couldn't resist one last chuckle as he met the blonde's own laughter-filled blue eyes.
The blonde stared back at his best friend's emerald eyes, still trying to suppress what could only be called half-mad giggling, then reached over and slapped Matt on the back, giving him a large wolfish grin.
"If that's a thank you," he smirked, "Then you're welcome… Maybe. Depending on the rest of your cocky little comments tonight."
Mello stood, still smiling the kind of lopsided that seemed like a ghost from the past now, the smile he used to have at Wammy's when he was about to drag Matt into some new mischief, the little smirk he wore when he'd pulled some new prank on Near. He reached down a black-nail polished hand invitingly, helping Matt up, and pulled him toward something that had caught his eye a little earlier. Something he couldn't possibly lose at this time.
"Here," he grinned, pushing Matt toward the enclosed space of the virtual fighting game ahead. "We're playing this next. And you're getting your ass kicked big-time, Birthday Boy." The mischievous smirk plastered on Mello's face brought back memories of so many years ago.
Amusement-filled emerald eyes followed the blonde's gaze to a neon blue enclosed arena and it took the gamer a minute to figure out what exactly it was that he was being directed towards. He allowed Mello to drag him the rest of the way to their destination, still trying to identify exactly what it was. It wasn't until Mello had actually placed Matt on a small red circle drawn on the floor in neon spray paint inside the small arena, and had gone to stand on another circle adjacent to Matt's that the gamer was finally able to recognize the game.
The minute recognition dawned on him he immediately regretted allowing Mello to chose the next game. This, he knew was one game that he could never hope to win against the blonde. In a normal fighting game it would have been no problem, but in a virtual one…well…it didn't take a genius to figure out which of the two was more likely to win in a fight.
He was just glad in the virtual game, neither of them actually inflicted physical damage upon each other. Still, the idea of getting into a physical fight with the other boy made him shutter. Even when they'd been children, Matt remembered the few fights they had had. None of them had ended very pretty. Mostly for Matt.
Shaking his head at such a typical choice of game for the blonde to pick, he readied himself into the fighting stance that the computer tutorial declared best, selected the Chinese fighter chick from the character selection menu, and waited for it to begin.
Mello grinned back at the brunette, reminiscent of a mischievous barracuda, but took no particular "stance." Obviously showing off, he was clearly declaring he already knew the outcome of the 'fight.'
Well, not that he'd probably ever want to seriously fight Matt, not right now anyway, but it had gone way too far. He needed to redeem himself and this was the quickest way. Matt was decent in a fistfight—the two had had enough of those throughout the years for Mello to know he couldn't take the gamer too lightly—but the blonde knew his own capabilities.
And his casual stance as he beckoned the brunette with one black-polished finger showed it.
He gave Matt maybe 3 minutes. Maybe less, judging by how pissed he was to see that Matt had gotten a frikkin' A+ on the game that had given him a C.
Time for revenge.
"Bring it on," he smirked.
Matt tried his hardest to resist the immediate impulse to flinch at the way the neon blue lighting glinted of off the blonde's eyes, casting a shadow on Mello's already daunting expression. He tried, and he failed. The blonde was just too damn intimidating!
Grumbling under his breath about the unfairness of fighting an ex-mafia boss, he did his best to ignore the cocky smirk Mello was donning, instead focusing on his character on the screen as he threw his first punch, long and exaggerated, the way the game tutorial had said was best in order for the monitor to pick up the movement.
He was somewhat shocked when it made contact, but before he could relish in his victory, his Chinese fighter girl was hit with an assault of punches to the face and chest that he found himself unable to block. He watched in dismay as his life bar was nearly cut in half, his mouth dropping open a bit n shock at how quickly the little bar had dropped from bright green to glaring red.
He didn't dare chance a glance at Mello's face; he didn't need to look to know that the arrogant jerk was smirking, possibly even laughing at him.
Tightening up his stance, he threw his own volley of attacks at his opponent, even adding a few kicks in for good measure, but was still worried when he saw that Mello's life bar had only decreased by about a fourth of what it had started with.
He groaned, and continued his assault, though most of them were expertly blocked by the blonde.
So all those times Mello went out without telling Matt where he'd gone? Well, now he knew. The obnoxious little cheat had been sneaking out to go to an arcade and practice virtual fighting. There was simply no other explanation.
He cursed aloud when Mello landed a particularly damaging skill on his player.
It only took one more punch to the stomach and it was Game Over. For Matt, in particular.
The blonde stood in the middle of his little red circle, hands resting loosely on his hips, thumbs through the belt loops. He was positively beaming, admiring his near-perfect score and shooting Matt a very falsely apologetic grin that looked much more like the gloating smirk it really was.
Looking back at the screen, Mello checked the timer. 89 seconds. Oh, hell yes. That was less than a minute and a half.
Completely self-satisfied now, the blonde grinned toothily at the gamer with a lazy shrug. "Serves ya right," he drawled, purposefully trying to sound as arrogant as possible. After all, winning brought bragging rights. "Now you have to buy me chocolate," he added happily. Ah, sweet, sweet victory.
"...unless you want to play another round?" The suggestion was more a taunting joke than anything serious since Mello knew Matt would refuse getting his ass so thoroughly kicked a second time in a row.
Matt nearly jumped out of his playing circle at the suggestion, and had to try very, very hard to resist giving Mello the finger. He sent a nasty glare in the blonde's direction, but otherwise didn't give him an answer, instead allowing his gaze to fall on the rest of the arcade. There was no way that he'd let Mello pick the next game.
After about a minute of browsing, he found his next target and promptly scurried towards it in a frenzied excitement, humiliating defeat already at the back of his mind, and a gloating Mello in tow.