hadriel | 第5: esteemed emily #1 (voice)

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第5: esteemed emily #1 (voice)

[The few "letters" Emily has received since graciously offering her services as an advice-giver are, as expected, shit. Hell, two of them aren't even real requests, just her idiot friends being idiots ~~(in the best way, she misses when it was always like this, simple, harmless, fun)~~. The one actually serious one is about as bad as she'd thought she'd get from the hopeless disasters in this cave, so hey. This isn't bad.

Honestly, the hardest part about this is deciding what format to do this in. Finally, on the morning of the 21st, she decides to just get this shit done. At least one idiot out there needs her help. She doesn't want to video this (mostly because she doesn't want to work with the shitty makeup here, come on, she knows what cameras do to you), but text won't convey her message quite well enough, so. Voice it is.]

I'm just going to dive right into this. I got three submissions. I'm going to read them off one at a time and answer each before I go to the next one. These are supposed to be anonymous, so try not to be such assholes that you out someone if you figure out who they are.

Unless they're obviously trolling, which-- well. You'll see.

Here goes.

First up is this fucking gem [heavy is the sarcasm in Esteemed Emily's voice]:

Esteemed Emily,

I have a friend who is a total nerd but in complete denial about it, even though she's getting nerdier by the day and soon may surpass even me in the nerd ways. What should I do to help her accept her true self and her destiny?

Signed,
I'm locking my door so don't bother coming down here

[There's a pause where Emily sighs quietly, but even in the relative silence, it's exceedingly clear how unimpressed she is.] Chris, you're an idiot. You wish I were a nerd, just so you could claim you're cool by association with me. Newsflash: you aren't. Code yourself an app that'll run through some formulas or whatever to help you get the fuck over the fact that you will always and forever be the second nerdiest person I know.

Second, an actual question:

So say an opinionated girl made out with the local teenage girl hater. She's fairly conflicted about the whole thing. What should she do?

-Opinionated Girl

I'm guessing you're a teenage girl, so my first thought is, why the fuck did you make out with someone who hates you? Do you hate yourself too?

[NOBODY can guess who the local teenage girl hater is, right? Jesus fucking Christ.]

Seriously, I don't know what the fuck to tell you. Like, we all make mistakes, [she's thinking about Mike] but... like why are you conflicted here. He hates you. Was he that good that you want to hate makeout and maybe hatefuck? That's up to you, but if it were me, I would punch him in the balls and move on unless he changes his ways. Please fucking love yourself. Or at least be safe, goddamn.

[Another pause for breath. Christ. Dealing with hopeless people is hard.]

Finally, the best of the litter [again with the sarcasm]:

hey em i got this friend who likes giving people advice but im clearly better at giving advice i never steer anyone wrong

how do i take her job

Do I even need to tell you how wrong you are? Idiot. Besides, nobody's stopping you from starting Jolly Josh or whatever. No, you know what? Stick to shitposting. You've got that down to a science.

[Another pause, another sigh, and (if you listen very closely) a very dramatic eyeroll.]

Look, just stop being disasters, all right? There's like five of you that have come to me asking for dating advice already. Just talk to the person you like. If you want to fuck them, ask them. If you want to hold hands, ask them. If you want to just be best goddamn friends with them, ask them.

That's literally it. Stop being morons.

Goddamn.

[End.]

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Yeah, well, that's because you suck at it.

[This is idiotic, yelling childish insults at Near through a closed door. Mello allows his forehead to drop against the surface of the door, hard enough to make a sound though not as loud as his banging hand, eyes shut in utter exasperation with himself and how quickly this has spiraled out of control.]

Maybe wait until we get the god Humor resurrected before you try it again, you twit.

[L keeps strange hours, just like he did back home. It's not that he's lazy, just that he's exhausted beyond all measure of reason, and has a tendency to simply drop where he's sitting or standing after a certain number of grueling minutes awake. This is true even without the vices he relied on back home, but the crashes are harder as his system detoxes from a near-constant intake of sugar and caffeine. When he sleeps, it's like the dead person he was before he arrived, and when he wakes up, it's that much more painful.

He leaves his room, wearing the clothes he fell asleep in, the clothes he arrived in, as he has yet to obtain another set. No one's mentioned that he should, and so he hasn't. His hair is disheveled and uncombed, and he looks exactly like someone who woke up, tried to go back to sleep, and failed miserably as the sounds and words outside his closed door only escalated in volume and violence.]

It's good to see that the two of you are talking, but Near, you aren't funny, and Mello, there have to be more satisfying things to do with your hand than pounding wood.

Edited (I'm not a genius I just play one on the internet ) 2016-08-22 01:07 (UTC)

[Near should probably feel bad. Technically, he did start this one and he didn't bother to consider L in all of this. But he doesn't. Oh well.]

Good morning, L. [Is it morning? He's not sure. He only just woke up himself thanks to Mello throwing the shoe at his door.] Hm, yes. I suppose I'll have to practice later.

[At least he's stopping? L's phrasing left an easy avenue for him to say something absolutely horrible, and he's not taking it.]

[Whether L intends for what he says to sound as suggestive as it does is a question Mello does not give much consideration to, because even though L wasn't here and probably has no reasonable way of knowing what transpired during the broadcast misfires and everything else that happened between then and his arrival, it sounds like a sharp mockery to Mello. He slaps his open hand against Near's door a final time, then turns around to face L, jaw equally as tense as his next words.]

Sorry to wake you.

[Just one more fucking mistake to add to an ever-growing list.]

Edited 2016-08-22 01:25 (UTC)

[It's anyone's guess, how L intends what he said. That's pretty typical for the detective, leaving others to guess at what he really means while his own poker face is firmly affixed to his pale features. It could well be a test for those he believes will blush more easily than he does, or take offense at any perceived implication.

It could well be nothing at all, an oblivious turn of phrase purely spoken by one who is above such crudity or the ability to read it into even intended double entendres.]

It's fine. I've been sleeping too long, anyway.

[He has been sleeping for two hours, twelve minutes, eighteen seconds.]

If there's a problem, I suppose resolving it is the next order of business.

[And clearly, L intends to, believing that it's unrealistic to expect Mello and Near to work it out between themselves. When he died, he ceased to be L, but now that he's breathing again, he sees it as up to him to face all the world's most major and relevant problems once more. If that means whipping his heirs into shape and forcing them to be cooperative and civil, or at least sneakier about their sabotage, so be it.]

[It had just been friendly teasing, gosh. Or as close to it as Near gets, considering his aim was to get a reaction from Mello. He could have done much worse and publicly humiliated him just now if he'd wanted.

[Since the situation outside his room has calmed, he's not going to get back to sleep anyway, and he's thirsty, Near undoes the ward on his door and opens it, somehow managing to have the good grace to cover his mouth while he yawns. It's the only indication that he just woke up himself, since the mussed hair and pajamas are just how he always looks.] Is there one? It was simply a poorly-executed attempt at humour on my part.

[Mello's narrow-eyed gaze snaps to Near immediately once the door opens.]

You knew exactly what you were doing, Near. Bringing up that bullshit again? What, did you really expect I'd just laugh about it?

[He'd gone radio silent over it the last time. Surely Near wouldn't have forgotten - well, maybe he had. Maybe it hadn't been important enough to register as something worth remembering.]

[No one who is even passingly familiar with Wammy's House alumni believe for a moment that they are not capable of dealing tremendous amounts of damage to any target they see fit to pursue. The claim that Near showed any restraint at all is laudable, but only for them, so it's not really any indicator of higher honor.

What's a little more expected is the passive-aggression.]

Elaborate, if you would. On what's been brought up again, seemingly without need and with aim to provoke.

[It's worth it, after all, to know what the successors to his legacy are fighting about.]

[They were not raised to be honourable. Near has actually shown quite a bit more restraint than L is aware of, waiting for Mello's overall mood to improve before he returns to his teasing. To have him in a position where he fights back instead of breaking.

[Because of course he remembers what happened the last time. (Although the last time, he hadn't been pretending the misconception had been accurate, hadn't even been making fun of him at all.) Yes, Mello had gotten angry and gone silent for a while, and even implied later that the silence had only gone on so long because of his death and sentence from the City Guard. Mello is considerably less worn down now.]

No, but I'd expected you to take it better than that time. [And he has. Yelling is an improvement over silence.] Excuse me, please.

[He squeezes through the traffic jam in front of his door on his way to the kitchen.] A reference to a misconception of our relationship that occurred weeks ago and Mello had taken very poorly. The entire situation was quite absurd. [He still doesn't quite understand why Mello had taken it as poorly as he had, though he now attributes at least some of it to general exhaustion.]

[Mello can feel his face burn with embarrassment. Being forced to recall this episode is bad enough, but doubly so now, considering it's in the context of explanation to L. And, as usual, Near is entirely too calm about it, presenting a dispassionate report that minimizes the reason why Mello was upset in the first place - and, by extension, Mello himself.]

A very stupid girl suggested that our relationship was physical in nature, and she did so where everyone could see it.

[The same girl, in fact, who wrote in to the advice column that prompted Mello's initial outburst of anger. The same girl who knows too much about Mello, who can hurt him with the knowledge she's acquired. The same girl he kissed in a fit of anger and overwhelm after he'd been brought back to life after his unplanned death. Mello's hands curl into fists at his side.]

Can't imagine why I was unhappy about that.

[He bites his bottom lip, silent for a moment, stinging under the criticism of I expected you to take it better. Near can never quite understand what it's like to be Mello, just as Mello will never be able to quite measure up. He turns his gaze to L instead of continuing to watch Near go about his business.]

"You've been unfaithful to me." That's what he said in his message. "I'm quite distraught."

[Mello scoffs loudly, wrapping his arms around himself, and leans back against the door frame. As if Near would care enough about anything Mello did to be distraught over it. He didn't even care that Mello was dead - for real - back home, and that's far more important.]

Edited 2016-08-22 03:30 (UTC)

[L stares, comprehending but not really understanding. The nimble gears are cranking behind his eyes more arduously; these are petty matters, human matters, things he has never had the time or ability to involve himself in. Have the gods in Hadriel really extended themselves to this kind of forcing of the human experience on those who are determined not to feel it?]

If she was stupid, what reason was there to give her the dignity of listening to her? Outrageous lies from a place of non-authority aren't worth noticing, much less getting angry about.

[He shakes his head; it aches.]

The more strongly you feel about something like that, the more it looks like you care, one way or the other. Just so you're aware.

[Welcome to actually dealing with your successors, L. Truth be told, many of their fights are indeed over petty matters. Near often declines the fights or tries to, and only rarely does he ever start them. This one is, really, his fault. He'd meant to make Mello angry because it amuses him sometimes.

[Teasing is really all it is. It's something that seems so at odds with Near's borderline robotic demeanour. Something out of place. Something human. Mello is the only one who brings it out of him with any kind of regularity.

[He plucks a glass from the cupboard, turns on the faucet to fill it.] I admittedly fail to see why it was so offensive myself. [He switches off the tap.] In any event, I would apologize for my part in this if I thought it would be productive, but that's doubtful.

[Mello would not believe it. And, frankly, he would be correct not to. Near prefers to simply let Mello blow off steam and eventually move on.]

I know that.

[Mello's jaw quickly clicks shut before his tone grows too sharp for the level of respect L deserves, even in an unpleasant situation like this. He inhales a deep breath through his nose, choosing to ignore Near's bullshit claims about hypothetical apologies for the moment and focus instead on explaining himself to L.]

It's not just what she said that one time - I have a history with her, dating back to my arrival, and she knows things, secrets about me that she shouldn't have ever learned. And I'm having an extremely difficult time managing her.

[Actually dealing with his successors was never supposed to be part of the plan. L was never a parental figure, or even decently passable as a reasonable facsimile for an older brother. He's just as much a stunted child as these two, in most of the glaring ways they possess separately and together. He's not Roger or Watari, would not have succeeded them if there had been a need for someone to. He's very good at what he does, but like most savants, there's only so far he can reach beyond it.]

A history? The kind that was being implied with Near, that you took offense to?

[He actually shares Near's view on this, that there's no reason to be offended.]

Regardless... you must have had some inkling that she could become a problem. Why did you get close to her in the first place?

[He truly would apologize if he thought it would make a difference. But Mello has too little trust in him to believe it to be sincere, even if by some miracle it was.]

It appears to be progressing in that direction. [Said completely offhandedly, vaguely bored in tone. He doesn't care what Mello and Ebihara do with one another.]

As for how she came to know anything, it's my understanding that it came about as a by-product of the machinations of the "gods". Giving those trapped here dreams based upon the emotion they represent and allowing others to walk through them.

Edited 2016-08-23 16:23 (UTC)

[When Near answers for him, all of Mello's attention instantly snaps away from L, and if looks could kill, Hope would have his work cut out for him in resurrecting Near. Mello's fingers curl into shaking fists at his side, and there is a palpable tension that takes over his entire body, like a twig bent to the point of snapping.]

Shut. Up. Near.

[Getting even those three words out of his clenched teeth is an ordeal. It should be obvious to both L and Near that this is a particularly raw nerve that's been hit - in other words, yes, things with Ai have become physical, though not to the extent her misfired message had suggested of Mello's relationship with Near.

He can't just ignore this, can't pretend it doesn't bother him, that it doesn't matter. Mello has never been able to abandon his emotions, even when they're this volatile and unwanted. He's never been able to talk his brain into overriding what his heart tells him. Maybe that's why he's never been able to be better than second best.]

[The plot, and the drama, both continue to thicken as certain things come to light and Mello becomes increasingly agitated. L does his best to temper the sigh he's suppressing, make it so he doesn't need to even suppress it, but it's difficult when he's out of his depth, here. Both in dealing with his successors and dealing with the kind of relationship that none of them should, by any rights, have had time for.

Withhold judgment... it isn't as if L exists here as more than a concept to be remembered. Kira doesn't either. Why shouldn't he pursue that, if it's what he really wants?

Of course, phrasing it any way is likely to make it sound like L is judging, with monotone harshness, how unsuited Mello is for the kind of life he was competing for. While it's been five or more years for both Mello and Near, the case, and his own death, are still very fresh in L's memory.]

Mello, there's no reason for you to feel insecure about that kind of relationship in a place like this... aside from the fact that sensitive information leaked, of course, but that's currently beyond all of our control and understanding.

Bonds of a physical and emotional nature are very important to some people, after all.

[Implying that they are not important to L and Near, of course. Even though he doesn't blatantly state it, might not even mean it to come through, it might as well be smeared in neon orange across the walls, or skywritten in plain view of every window.]

[Well, that's one of the most intensely angry looks Mello has ever shot at him. Near wonders vaguely if that had been the way his face had looked when he'd pulled his gun on him back home. It isn't as if Near would know, after all; he hadn't bothered to look up at the time.

[Perhaps he'd miscalculated how ready Mello had been to resume their game if he's gotten as bad as this. Emotions are such tricky things that defy quantifiable measurement and things that Near had long ago distanced himself from. It impedes understanding.

[Still, even with the deadly glare, Near is confident that he's not about to be subjected to any physical harm. So he isn't worried. And he hadn't even intended to cut with his latest words; he'd merely provided the asked-for context.

[Calmly, he sips from his glass. He's got nothing to add, making the determination not to make even any vague corrections. And he agrees with L's statements, even. And the unspoken implications that those kinds of bonds are unimportant to him. Never in his life has Near felt any desire for a physical bond. Only two emotional bonds exist for him. (Sorrow's revival had proved it, that he still feels guilt for what he'd done to Mai when neither of them were themselves.) And he has no intention of letting Mello know that he has an emotional connection to him. He has every reason to expect that knowledge to be used as a weapon.]

[There are many things that Mello wants: love and attention; acceptance; a clearly defined victory; a way out of this conversation. There is an emptiness inside of him that was created by the death of his parents at such a young age, a dark hole that was encouraged to grow by the competitive nature of the Wammy's House environment. He is, fundamentally, a creature of perpetual want, and one of the things he wants most is not to want these things. How much easier would his life be if he didn't care about seeking approval from the two people who are least inclined to give it? How much better could he be if that gnawing ache in the back of his mind didn't exist?]

I'm not bonded with her, all right? It was - a momentary lapse in judgment.

[He sighs loudly and pinches the bridge of his nose, futilely. There will be no stopping this headache, just as there is no doubt in his mind as to the criticism behind the words of what he imagines are supposed to sound like reassurance.]

You think I don't know just how much of mistake it was? Believe me, I do.

[Mello pulls his head up again, folds his arms over his chest, sets his jaw in an angle of defiance.]

Don't worry, I won't make the same mistake the next time I'm dead.

[With any luck, he thinks, it will be the sort of death that is permanent. There are no more mistakes to be made in that case.]

[Near's silent non-reaction allows L's focus to remain on Mello, neutral and nonjudgmental but still somehow damning. Unlike Mello, L doesn't tend to ever look uncomfortable, even when he should by every right. Folding his lanky body into something slight and compact, talking about sensitive topics as though they're the weather, watching other people's pain as though it's just data to be observed and recorded, he's mastered detachment. Not to the extent that he doesn't understand emotions, but certainly to the point where he can shield himself from the ways that they make people weak, prone to "momentary lapses in judgment."

Mello is flawed and imperfect. It's unmissable, even glaring. L recognizes that no true good can come of pointing it out or drawing unnecessary attention to it, instead continuing his line of cool reassurance. After all, if Near and L are both present, both willing to work together, how much do they really need Mello?

If he doesn't rush to his own death with the shame he already feels, that would probably make him do it.]

We all have regrets, but if we live our lives with nothing else, we might as well stop trying. I know you've never been one to stop trying.

[Honest praise, certainly deserved, maybe desperately needed at this time. Sleep-deprived and still failing to find acceptable sustenance, exhausted from his own recent death and resurrection, L reflects detachedly on the fact that he is practically talking Mello down from some kind of ledge. If not a suicidal one, then at least one threatening some drastic and jarring change to an already fragile (but functional) status quo.]

[How did this manage to get so dire? Near supposes it really may have been too soon for him to have played in this fashion. That Mello references his death is a clear enough indication.

[There are a lot of things he could say. "I don't recall saying I had a legitmate problem with what you've done." Or: "You've taken this far too seriously." Or: "I should have waited longer before playing like this." But the first would sound like criticism to Mello's ears, the second truly is criticism, and the third is too close to an apology for it to be believed. Any one of them could tip things in an even worse direction and cause a rift.

[That's something he wants to prevent, not ensure.

[... He might actually have to risk a hit here, let on to the truth a bit. Outright stating the truth is out of the question, too much of a weakness to show. And it would be dismissed as a lie, besides. But a clue may be serviceable. One that could get by L due to a lack of reference point, but Mello can grasp once he's calmed down.

[The only hint of reaction is a slight darkening of his eyes when Mello talks about dying again. He's had quite enough of that shit. He didn't like it when it had happened at home, and he didn't like it when it had happened here.]

It's certainly true that you've always kept playing, even when others wouldn't.

[One could even interpret his final act at home that way, if looked at from a particular angle. But more importantly, there's a subtle reference to the dream in there. Whether the statement can ultimately be ascribed to it or as just a general reference to their lives -- they refer to so many things as games -- can go either way.]

Edited 2016-08-25 03:02 (UTC)

[Mello feels pulled in a number of directions by this increasingly awful conversation, most of which seem to be leading toward an explosion of some kind or another. L's platitudes sound an awful lot like a consolation prize, a you tried but you're still not good enough, and the fact that it's all three of them in the same space at the same time only amplifies Mello's feelings of inadequacy in comparison to the other two. They probably don't need him; Near had done fine on his own while Mello was on the run and then in the City Guard's line of sight, and L - well, what does a dead branch have to offer to the tree from which it grew? He senses this; it's been nagging at him since right after L's arrival.

When L speaks of regrets, Mello almost wants to ask him, demand an answer as to why, if the fact that he's always kept trying is valuable, was it not enough for L? Why wasn't he good enough in L's eyes to follow in his footsteps? The words are right there on his tongue, ready to be spoken, held back only by the gate of his tightly clenched teeth.

But Mello doesn't have the opportunity to ask, because what Near says next immediately pulls Mello's attention away from everything else: all the ways he's stretched thin like a piece of taffy; all the unasked questions stopped up in the back of his throat; all the things at which he continues to fail, over and over again, seemingly without end. You've always kept playing, even when others wouldn't. And Mello may be furious and quickly spiraling out of control, but his mind is still a meticulously-kept archive, and he remembers, quite suddenly, the dream that preceded Near's arrival, and he remembers what dream-Near said: Mello-bot is very good. He plays. The others don't.

L is completely forgotten in this moment, as every shred of Mello's attention refocuses on Near. Mello levels a hard, disbelieving stare at him as the shock of impact from the words Near speaks and what Mello almost doesn't dare to believe that they may very well mean settles over him, twisting his expression out of the furious scowl it's been set in since he came out of his bedroom and into one that mixes equal parts incredulity and astonishment. Mello is no longer a twig bent to the point of breaking, but a cat on high alert, every muscle and tendon attuned and ready to pounce.]

What did you say?

Edited 2016-08-25 14:06 (UTC)

[L would absolutely prefer it if no rift was created, but he is smart enough to realize that not every force of nature is within a man's control, even when he is an exceptional man. There are a lot of things playing out in this situation, and there's nothing for it but to let some of them unfold as they are, without interference or strong-arming in any attempt to force peace or normalcy. Such things, after all, can't actually be forced.

Near's reference sounds odd, even misplaced in the current dialogue; L can only guess it's between the two of them, something that only they would know or understand. A part of him clenches and curls tightly in response, bristling at the idea of a secret kept successfully from him, but another part is numb to it. These people are his successors, but they came after he did. Their time is a different one, an inherited one, and it would be nothing short of wrong for him to demand things he has no right to claim.

He's here, but forgotten. Wavering and pale and tired, he's a dying candle to a much larger and brighter flame that builds and consumes. He could fear it or watch it, and he opts to do the latter.]

[If Near had been able to have his way at home, he and Mello would have worked together; he's sure it would have generated a quicker, more efficient result even with what difficulties lay between them. But like L, Near realizes that some things can't be forced, and he could not make Mello work with him. And so he'd left the door open for it, waited for a situation for Mello to perhaps realize it was in his own best interest. It had to be his idea, or at least seem like it, or he would refuse.

[He's seen Mello being on the point of breaking here in Hadriel, and he'd been making a conscious effort to step back. What he's doing now is more than stepping back. It's potentially exposing a weakness on the chance that it will nudge Mello away from the edge he's standing upon. Because he's never wanted Mello to break. That's never been who he is in Near's mind.

[Near had expected Mello to catch the reference, though not right away given his elevated emotional state. But the abrupt switch in his demeanour, and the ridiculous question leave no doubt that he has. Inconvenient, to be doing this in front of L, but it may be unavoidable now.

[He takes another drink before responding.] I'm not interested in repeating something you've clearly heard. [His posture may be relaxed as ever, but internally, he's on high alert. If the game changes, he needs to be ready for it. But he's not inclined to give any more than he already has.]

[Near says nothing without intent behind it; Mello has no reason to believe his choice of words is anything but carefully calculated, the same way the words that started this entire episode were specifically chosen to provoke a particular reaction. Mello's mouth hangs open as his mind races to catch up with what his heart tells him is true - that there are no coincidences. This is not just idle talk, and while it could be a feint, the fact that Near's words are a direct echo of that dream suggest otherwise.]

But that ... that was weeks before you showed up, how ... ?

[He lets the question hang, unfinished, because it too is unnecessary. Mello has witnessed many impossible things in the relatively short time he's been here, and time is only a matter of perspective. It shouldn't be possible to share dreams in the first place, yet he has experienced that exact thing. Is it so impossible to believe that the gods' reach may have extended beyond the Door as well as to those who were already under its effect? Mello shakes his head at his own question, mouth pursed. The answer is obvious now, in this light.]

You were there. Is that - ? [No, no phrasing it as a question; he knows this, the same way he knew there was a fake notebook.] That's why you wanted to know about my dreams when you got here. Isn't it?

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