hadriel | Je me fous du passé

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Je me fous du passé

[The feed opens with Bianca. She stands in Delight's bar, the lighting rearranged to get as close as she can to the appearance of being on stage, and she glares into the camera and takes a large swig of the glass in her hand before she makes any sound.

Then she sings. Inside the bar, her voice is strong enough to rattle glasses.

People listening to the feed on the network may hear the familiar Lancastrian accent of Kate, grumbling almost inaudible complaints. Most of them seem to be along the lines of why did I agree to this and why did I give up booze.

The song ends and Bianca casts a grateful look at Kate before launching into speech.]

I have lived a long time, my friends. I am sorry for many things. I've been unforgivably careless of people's hearts and hopes. I've allied myself with the most treacherous of worms - I have trusted too much, cared too much, and -

[She stops.]

Or not cared enough. I have broken people for my own gain. I have sold myself to a power I knew to be malevolent, to buy my own life. I have tormented those I believed I loved, and abandoned those I know I did. Kate -

[She gazes, stricken, past the camera.]

I pulled you into this scheme. You almost died. Sharon and Maketh did die. I'm sorry, so sorry, for that.

[And then she lifts her chin, defiant.]

But I'm not sorry we made the attempt. I'm not sorry for taking a risk on the chance of buying all our freedom. Are you watching, Hope? Did you feel it, just when it started? The only real hope I've felt since coming here? I hoped so hard to end you.

I'm only sorry we failed.

[There's a brief resigned sigh from behind the camera as the feed goes out.]

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That's what it looked like. It was a pleasant dream. They seemed like nice people - like what parents are supposed to be, if stories are to be believed.

[Mello doesn't have enough firsthand experience with his parents to make a comparison; both were taken from him much too early in the short stretch of his own life. By now, the memories of both of them have faded and blurred around the edges, the way a dream does after waking, details melting into vague impressions rather than concrete lines.]

How do you mean?

I created Sharon da Silva. [ it's both strange, and not at all strange to talk of herself in the third person. she is both Sharon da Silva and not, after all. ] A long time ago, a group of terrible people that ran a town decided that I was a good vessel to birth their god. I could survive being burned alive, so that's what they did. I think I was... [ there's an incredible sense of detachment to her tone, until she has to think back to really remember something. her voice breaks, and she quickly clears her throat to cover it. ] I was eleven, I think.

[ and then? Fuck. ] I had powers before they did that, but after I managed to stop the ritual, I was... I was something else. [ she swallows. she was so hurt, so hurt and no one cared. or, when they did, she hurt them. little girls do not know how to deal with the aftermath of such horrors. ]

I created a world—you've witnessed a version of it—and pulled all of those terrible people into it with me. [ it's more than clear she's simplifying things ] I was in there for years, and eventually I decided to find a way to leave.

I left by breaking my soul to create a child. I placed her into the world knowing she would be adopted. [ a beat, a swallow, and then: ] I placed her into the world knowing that one day she would have to come back.

[ not to mention, a part of the cult found out and began to seek out the child. ]

[If there's anyone in this place who understands the idea of creating another person to become and conceptualizing that person as an entity apart from yourself, it's Mello. He's created a number of false names and identities over the years, each one with a specific purpose. Mello is just the name that's served the best purpose for the longest amount of time, the most significant one. He could have picked any name, really, once it became clear that he would never take L's title for himself; Mello was assigned to him at the House, but he chose it once he left and set out in the rain past the great iron gates that stood sentry to the orphanage that raised him until he was almost fifteen, the factory that churned out so many broken children in an attempt to create a perfect problem-solving machine.

He understands, too, what it means to be burned alive - maybe not in exactly the same way, since it was a short blast of flame, and he chose to suffer that torture rather than fall into the hands of the police, which would have meant a certain death sentence and a bigger failure than what he actually endured. He was luckier than most who were in that warehouse that night in November. But he knows all too well the pain of being forged by fire into something ultimately stronger.

Mello is very quiet, listening to Sharon's story, barely even breathing as he takes in her words, this horror story of unspeakable things done to a child. He isn't surprised, because there's nothing surprising about the capacity people have for doing awful things, even to children. But it does draw out a scowl of pure disgust, unseen from the other side of his phone. He's quiet still for long moments after she finishes speaking, only then offering a quiet statement:]

You did what was necessary in order to survive.

[No judgment in his words, there, or if there is, it's in her favor. Facing insurmountable odds and coming out victorious on the other side is no easy feat.]

[ The similarities, it seems, continue to rise in count between them. They are children—for all of the years behind them, they are children when it comes to the world—who have survived abuse, and fire, though each under different circumstances, and have managed to come out of it.

They did not come out on top, but they came out nonetheless. They survived, and they'll continue to, as long as their luck holds (if you could call any of that luck). ]

And doomed the only people to care for me. [ There was Cybil, the officer whose face she'll never forget—nor the sound of her gasps as she watched the fires consume her flesh—but she cared in a much different way than Rose, and Christopher, and, perhaps, Vincent. ]

It makes me wish I hadn't survived.

[When is the cost of survival too high? That's the question that comes to Mello's mind, along with the answer to his own question, something he knows in that same instant: when it impacts the lives of those you care for. He swallows hard against the sudden dryness in his throat, remembering the fate that Near told him befell Matt, and another intense wave of regret washes over him. Maybe that's why he feels compelled to tell her about this, because ordinarily, he would never so easily put his own weakness on display.]

The place that raised me until I was fifteen was more than just an orphanage - I guess you could say it was like a private academy of sorts, and it was an extremely competitive environment. We weren't exactly discouraged from making friends with each other, but it naturally fell by the wayside, because we all had other priorities. Somehow, despite that, I did make one friend there. We fell out of touch when I left, but we reconnected not long ago. I looked him up, and he agreed to help me with my plan to take down Kira.

[Mello pauses, just long enough to think about how he shouldn't have reached out to Matt, shouldn't have asked for his help, shouldn't have gotten him killed.]

He wasn't supposed to die. I was. But he did, and it's my fault.

[I know, or something like that, is what he means in confessing this to her.]

Maybe some of us can't help dooming those who are close to us.

[ The way he describes the orphanage—the more than just an orphanage—makes her wonder what, exactly, kind of place he was forced to grow up in. A little bit of competition between children is normal, but when it's encouraged, when the environment and learning is based around it, she can only imagine the complexes that he's developed because of all that. And what sorts of things does a private academy style orphanage teach?

It leaves her with more questions about his past, but she reserves them for another time, especially as he continues on. He made one friend, and had he never reached out to him for help, he would have still been alive.

She swallows, throat suddenly tight. These are regrets she knows too well, can relate to all too well, and it makes her heart ache. ]

I bet he knew the consequences, Mello. [ It's strange to say his name with such softness, but there it is, her own silent way of saying she understands. ] It's not your fault. [ Strong, certain. ]

I'm sure he did. We never talked about it, but - he's a smart guy.

[Matt grew up in Kira's world, too; his reign of terror reached all corners of the Earth. One would have to literally live in a cave to be unaware of the reality of that world. And Matt was a legitimate genius, just like all the children accepted to Wammy's House, ranked third after Near and Mello himself. He knew the risks of throwing in his lot with a wanted criminal like Mello. Still ... Mello intended for Matt to get away unscathed, and knowing that his miscalculation cost Matt his life stings harder than any other failure - a compound loss, perhaps, in light of the accumulated evidence that Mello is simply not good enough, and he never will be.]

We can't change the past, Sharon. We can only change the future. It hasn't happened for me yet, but if I can get back to where and when I'm supposed to be, I'll make damn sure he isn't killed.

[He has no intention of changing his own suicide mission, though.]

If I can't ... well, I guess it won't matter.

[There's a thanks somewhere in there, an acknowledgment of understanding. He's just awful at expressing outright gratitude, because it's such an uncommon thing for him.]

Edited 2016-07-15 20:32 (UTC)

[ If he's from the same that same orphanage, Sharon doubts he's just a 'smart guy', probably far more similar in intelligence with Mello than any average joe, but he likely comes with his own issues, his own hang ups; children without parents, children that grow up in harsher environments always have their problems—both Sharon, and Mello are a testament to that.

And then there's that: he wants to change his future—or not his future, she catches that, but his friend's. There is more to Mello than she'd originally thought, more to his pompous, smarter-than-thou attitude; she regrets her quick judgement of him. People often judge her just as quickly, and she should have known better. ]

...You're not such a terrible person, Mello. [ We sometimes do bad things for good reasons, and she can see that in him, finally. ] I hope you get the chance to save him, and maybe... try to make sure you come through it, too.

[ Maybe you deserve to try for a happy ending. ]

[Mello hasn't given much consideration to his own moral character in a very long time - probably since before the orphanage, if he were entirely honest. Once he was part of the House's machinery, concepts of good and bad were inextricably linked with results - win and lose, better and best. He's never been the best, so he's never been good enough, much less good. Maybe that's why the decision to make himself into a criminal was an easy one to choose - if taking that path facilitated victory, it would be worth the costs accumulated on the way.

But he can recognize the kindness in what she says to him - he just doesn't believe it's possible. Monsters don't get happy endings, after all.]

I ... I appreciate the sentiment, Sharon. But there's nothing left for me, after.

[He says this in an entirely factual manner, no trace of self-pity. He's considered all angles, worked all the math. This is the only thing that can be done. It feels strange to speak of it aloud, but it doesn't feel wrong. Somehow, Mello senses that Sharon may understand.]

It's difficult to explain. But the point is, I have to die in order for my plan to work.

That sounds like bullshit. [ There's a tightness to her voice, a little sharp and angry, like she's swallowing back some form of argument. She would never go so far as to say she liked Mello—too soon when she can still feel a twinge of pain in her chest thinking back to her death—but she doesn't want him to just go back home and die. ]

[It does sound like bullshit, if you don't know the reasoning behind it. Ai said the same thing, more or less, even though he did explain it to her. Is it worth trying again, with Sharon? Mello finds that he wants her to understand - maybe not because he owes her that, per se, but he senses that since she's lived through extreme circumstances, she's better suited to understand than Ai was.]

Sacrifices have to be made in any battle, Sharon. I can explain it if you really want to know - just not over the phone. I don't trust they're secure. I'd have to meet you somewhere.

[He pauses, then makes an attempt at a dry joke:]

I'll even leave my gun at home this time.

[He won't really, not because he believes Sharon to still be a threat, but because everything in this place is a threat, and intentionally disarming himself would be stupid.]

Edited 2016-07-17 20:56 (UTC)

[ The last time they'd met face to face, it ended exactly how she'd expected it to—though, if he hadn't pulled the trigger, she would have done something to force his hand (a flash of fire, her eyes turning dark, and it would have only been instinct to react). She chews her lower lip.

Fuck, what's the worst that can happen?

And then there's that joke. She cracks a smile she can't help, and lets out a dark huff of laughter. ]

Because either of us being defenseless sounds like a good idea, huh? [ They've both done something to earn the ire of others, and Sharon isn't blind to that. She swallows. ] I'll meet you, but I'd rather... [ She knows just how this sounds. ] ...stay out of the public eye, I'm sure you can understand why.

It's a smart strategy.

[It's what he's done, since the danger cleared enough for him to leave Fear's temple - kept on the move, out of sight. It's not a perfect strategy - Hadriel is still an enclosed system, with only so many places available in which to hide - but it's the best option, under the circumstances.]

Name the place. I'll meet you there.

The northern most bridge, past Delight's bar, on the other side. If you follow the trail, you'll come across an empty temple; I'll be there.

[ It doesn't matter how long it takes Mello to get there, Sharon's there first, having obviously been nearby during the duration of their conversation. She's leaned up against a corner of the building. There's no sign of her white vest, instead replaced with a dark, hooded sweatshirt, and the hood is pulled up, only partially obscuring her features. There's no immediate sign that she has a weapon on her, but anyone observant will catch the hilt of a dagger tucked in her left boot, and something ]

[It's not too long before he shows up - jacket hood pulled up over his head, unnecessary sunglasses over his eyes. He does note the weapon stashed in her boot, because he can't not observe every available small detail, but his own pistol remains stowed away at the small of his back, in the waistband of his pants. He doesn't take care to deaden his footsteps as he approaches, but his voice is quiet when he calls her name to announce himself:]

Sharon.

You don't look suspicious, or anything. [ Sharon manages out, a bit of a wry grin crossing her features (an expression that looks off with the dark circles, and pale pallor of her skin), before she pushes off the hard stone of the temple, stuffing her hands into the pouch of her hoodie. Her fingers brush upon the familiar shape of Hope's cellphone, the golden seal of Metatron, and then Fear's orb—it makes her skin crawl just to touch it, but she can't leave it behind, not willing to let it fall into another person's hands. ]

[The corner of his mouth twitches in a not-quite smile, an acknowledgment of the absurdity of the situation.]

Yeah, it's a better look for crowds, usually, but I can't really afford to take chances.

[It's weird, seeing her alive again - equal parts discomfiting and reassuring. It's something that should be impossible, or at the very least, relegated to the realm of miracles. The dead have never once returned, in Mello's experience - not as anything more than memories or dreams. He clears his throat and looks down to fidgeting with the cuff of the glove on his right hand.]

What I'm going to tell you - it has to stay a secret. That's why I didn't want to tell you over the phone.

[He drops the glove's cuff and folds his arms over his chest, then glances back up to Sharon again.]

Can I count on you not to repeat any of this? I think you'll understand why in a minute here, and it may seem like an incredibly slim chance that the person I'm talking about will ever show up, but again - I can't afford to take chances.

[ She watches him fidget, picking at the cuff of his glove, and wonders, briefly, if he's uncomfortable around her. It wouldn't be the most off-the-wall reaction given the fact that he murdered her less than a week ago, she's been alive less than a day, and has a strange, powerful array of abilities at her fingertips. It could be habit, or nerves, as well, given the subject matter they're about to discuss.

Sharon frowns. It's not the first time she's been asked to play secret keeper, and it's not the first time it's come from someone she hasn't exactly been on friendly terms with. ]

I can't make any promises. [ Just like with Ronan. She could lie, but there wouldn't be much of a point. ] We don't always have power over what we say, or do here, but I will do my best.

[ For all that's happened between them, she has no interest in betraying Mello's trust in her. ]

[It's a satisfactory answer; Mello is aware enough of the reality of this place and the gods' respective aims to realize that there is no concrete guarantee of secrets staying secret. It's a gamble, to confide this in her, but it's a risk he's willing to take if it means she'll have a better understanding of who he is and what he's about - and curiously enough, Mello finds that this is a thing he wants. He nods, mouth pursed for a moment as he considers how best to begin his explanation.]

I mentioned that Kira is a murderer, but I didn't tell you how he kills. In the world where I'm from, there are beings known as shinigami - gods of death. Like the name implies, their sole function is to kill humans. How they do this is with a notebook - each shinigami has one, and all they have to do is write a human's true name in the notebook while picturing that person's face. Forty seconds later, unless otherwise specified, that person will die of a heart attack.

[He pauses, studying Sharon for how she'll react, if she'll accept this premise or wave it off entirely. Ai had been quick to dismiss it when he'd told her, but Sharon, he thinks, may be more willing to accept it, given who she is and what she's experienced and what she can do.]

I know it sounds like bullshit - I probably wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen the Death Note in action or spoken with the shinigami it belonged to.

[ Sharon's jaw tightens as Mello speaks, and her eyes narrow, clear signs of suspicion. It sounds a lot like bullshit, like a way to yank her around, but she's willing to give him the benefit of the doubt—for what reason, even she couldn't quite say. There isn't anything for him to gain lying to her. ]

Yeah, kind of. [ The fact that he can acknowledge that, however, seems to lessen her doubt, and she motions for him to continue. She can see where it's heading already: Kira got a hold of one of the notebooks, and got his murder on. ]

[That's the exact reasoning he's counting on her being smart enough to pick up on - it's too stupid-sounding of a story to be made up, because there's nothing for him to gain with such an outrageous lie. He nods again, slightly shifting his stance, and continues.]

So some idiot shinigami dropped its notebook into the human world, and a human picked it up - someone with delusions of grandeur, lofty ideas about ridding the world of every single criminal element therein. Sounds great in theory, right? Except no one person should ever have that kind of power over the rest of the world. Justice is a system, and it may be flawed, but it's better than allowing one self-proclaimed ruler to act as judge, jury, and executioner for the world at large with a single stroke of the pen.

[There's a subtle change in Mello's demeanor as he makes his way through this explanation - a tightening of his jaw, a hardening of his voice. Absently, he reaches for the rosary hung around his neck, gloved fingers closing into a fist around the beads.]

Kira has held the entire world in a vice-grip of terror for years, executing not only legitimate criminals who may have been sentenced to death eventually but anyone who opposed him. And one of those who opposed him and was executed for it was someone important to me, and to the world.

[He frowns, shifting his gaze to the ground as he remembers the day he and Near had been called into Roger's office and told that L was dead. It's a difficult memory to recall, for many reasons.]

That's why I vowed I'd be the one to stop him.

[ The loss still cuts him, Sharon can tell that much despite her lack of general observancy, and she purses her lips together tightly. He's after vengeance, and that, that she understands on an immensely intimate level. Those who hurt you deserve to suffer. It is a life motto. ]

And you'd do whatever it takes. [ She understands. She did whatever it took to get her revenge, and it killed her, too, just in in a much different way. ]

By any means necessary.

[It does boil down to a question of vengeance for him, at the very core of the matter. He had no reason to pick up L's case once he abdicated the title to Near; the choice to continue after Kira was a personal one, twice over - retribution for L, and beating Near to it in a bid to prove once and for all who was better.

But he knows now that he'll never be better. And the overwhelming regret spawned by revisting that knowledge now pushes something dangerously ugly and explosive high up in his chest, something that threatens to tear out of him if he doesn't focus on tamping it back down again. So he takes a deep breath and swallows hard, releasing his grip on the rosary and folding his arms across his chest again, and the feeling subsides.]

I'm not the only one who's tried to stop Kira, of course. I've had competition. But Kira is very clever, and he's been working right under the noses of the police, pretending to be part of an investigation against him. He has a number of tricks he's used in order to fool everyone, and one of those tricks is a fake notebook.

[This is the hardest part to talk about - the plan that involves his death. He pauses, taking a series of slow, even breaths in preparation for what he says next.]

One of my competitors - the only real competitor, in fact, a longstanding rival of mine - thinks he has everything figured out. But he doesn't know about the fake notebook. He's failed to consider it as a possibility. So I have to show him that Kira's got even him fooled, and I have to do it by forcing Kira's hand into revealing that he's been using a fake where it can be seen and keeping the real notebook hidden. He has to write a name in that notebook, and it has to mine. If I don't do this -

[A hard frown creases his mouth as his words halt for a long moment of silence before Mello picks up again.]

If I don't do this, he'll be killed. And I can't allow that to happen.

Why not just... [ She starts slow, almost as if she's choosing her words carefully. It feels a lot like she's seeing Mello for the first time—beyond the intricate layers of pride, temper, and leather he's built up around himself; a mostly complete picture. He's a much better person than he gives himself credit for. ]

...let him die? [ Her blue eyes settle on his, searching them, curious rather than cold. ] You'd then be able to take out Kira, beating your rival, and avenging your friend. [ It seems like BINGO, right there. Unless you care too much. ]

[Therein lies the problem: Mello does care too much, and he always has. Even though he is entirely capable of cold, logical calculation, he has always been ruled by his emotions, and it's with respect to Near that his emotions have been the strongest, ever since the day they first met.]

I can't let him die because ... he's important. To the world.

[How does one begin to attempt explaining the significance of someone like L to someone like Sharon, whose world likely doesn't contain him? Mello wrote about skyrocketing crime rates in the document that told the story of the LABB Murders, but that's merely an impersonal aspect of L's capabilities. Even though he left it behind years ago, Mello is still a child of Wammy's House, an institution that encouraged those within to believe in L as a pinnacle of achievement, and L was of utmost importance to him - not just as an objective toward which to reach, but on a deeply personal level as well. That's something he left out of what he wrote for Near to find after his death. Too sentimental, perhaps - too much of a clue as to why he decided on the gambit he did, why he chose to sacrifice his own life to keep Near in the game. Near was rightfully L, and the world needed L. And there's an echo in what Mello says now of what he told Sharon just before he shot her down. She may be able to piece that together, and if she does? Maybe it's another level of understanding as to why he came to her apartment with a determination to put a stop to the dangers she'd unleashed on the city.]

And I'm not.

[There's no self-pity in how he says this; it's entirely factual. Losers aren't important to the world; they have no place in it, nothing to offer.]

I'm expendable. He's the one who needs to survive.

Je me fous du passé

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