GAME OVER

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[gameovermatt-blog]

You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?

[gameovermatt-blog]

The world passed by him in a blur, waning sunlight giving way to fluorescent streetlights and signs that lined the motorway. He shifted gears as he pulled around a turn, checking his mirror every so often. Yup, nothing but a wall of black Benzs. Brilliant. He took another quick drag from his cigarette, pointedly ignoring when the wind blew the ashes back in his face. 

This was going to be fun.

A hard right sent him down an exit ramp and into a narrow alley, just barely wide enough for his vehicle. He glanced back again and smirked around the butt of his fag; his pursuers were forced to line up single file to continue to give chase. Looking forward again, he just barely had time to acknowledge the chain link fence stretched across the alley before he barreled into it—through it—and into the lot on the other side.

“Ah hell,” he muttered as he pulled around again. The gouges and scrapes in the bonnet would cost him dearly, if Mello had anything to say about it. He floored it again, bouncing up a curb and pulling around the wrong way up a ramp onto the motorway once more. It was about then he noticed that the number of uniformly black vehicles around him had multiplied exponentially. He slammed his brakes abruptly, then took off between two of the autos, exiting the motorway once again. Stoplights and pedestrian crossings meant nothing to him as he blew on through, intent on making it as far from his pursuers as he could possibly—

He yanked on the emergency brake in conjunction to his foot brake in an effort to stop before he smashed into the row of Mercedes that blocked his path. His Camaro swung around almost a full 180 degrees before screeching to a halt.

Trapped.

[just-mello-blog]

  Ten seconds. 

If Matt wasn’t off that game in ten, he would make sure he would never get on it again.

Five seconds was close enough. The sound was driving him insane.

With a quick movement forward, the game console was in his hands. In milliseconds, it connected with the table and hit the floor, making a series of pathetic sounds accompanied by its just death.

“I warned you. Now listen. Please.”

[gameovermatt-blog]

"--You know, if that was my DS, it'd still be playable."

Clearly whatever mood was in the room had begun to effect him as well, if his lack of reaction was anything to go by. He chewed on the butt of his cigarette, eventually choosing to spit it out all together and grind the remains into the worn wood paneled floor.

He was listening. He was always listening.

[just-mello-blog]

  Mello gave a quiet sigh, stepping to the door and tugging it open. “‘Ten minutes’ was almost an hour ago, Matt.”

He returned to his chair, leaving the sofa across the table for Matt’s gaming pleasure. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to deal with the noises coming from the console in those gloved hands.

“Turn the volume down or turn it off,” he demanded, harshness gone from his voice. He sounded more melancholy than he ever had; with a clear of his throat he attempted to fix that. 

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

[gameovermatt-blog]

Clickclickclickclickclick.

pipipipipipi

Somewhere amongst the cacophony of characters being blown to smithereens, he could hear a particular undertone to Mello's voice. Something he'd only ever heard a few times before. The feeling almost drove him to attempt to pause the level.

Almost.

pipipipPIPIPIPIPI

[just-mello-blog]

  “Alright.” With the closing of his phone, he waited. Waiting being the perfect word. The blond gazed at the door, seldom blinking, never reaching for the dark chocolate on the table. 

If he ever resembled L, it was now. Hair a mess, leaning heavily against his knees, watching the door with a deadpan gaze.

He was debating internally on whether to tell Matt the risks at all.

It all depended on how Matt came in, and what he asked. 

[gameovermatt-blog]

Some twenty minutes later found the redhead kicking at the base of the shabby flat's door. Knocking was decidedly not an option, what with both of his hands glued to his PSP. A snubbed out fag dangled from his lips as he muttered something about rotating platforms and health bars.

[just-mello-blog]

Mello peered at his phone, after some time, he picked a contact and let the phone ring. 

Of course, it took quite some time to get an answer. 

“Matt, stay here overnight and bring what you’ll need tomorrow. We still have things to go over.”

[gameovermatt-blog]

Under normal circumstances, he would've answered his cell on the first ring. But facing down the masks with one heart left on an already glitchy game? Oh no. Whatever it was, it could wait.

That was, until the screen froze.

"... You've gotta be kiddin'," he whispered. Considering the age of the game--and the general dodginess of the cartridge itself--he really should've been expecting it, but now? Now?

"Nononono--"

BEEPBEEPBEEP

He kept his eyes trained on the screen as he groped for his phone.

"... Now? What?"

It was a rhetorical question, really. He knew full well what the blond was talking about. And as usual, his timing was shitastic.

Typical.

"Gimme ten."

[just-mello-blog]

“I don’t think cigarettes will help much.” Mello stepped to the sink, rinsing out a nearby cup and filling it halfway.

After wiping it down with a towel, he offered both cup and towel to his companion. “Try that instead.” 

[gameovermatt-blog]

"Overpowers the taste," he explained, accepting the drink anyway. He took a long swig, only to swish it around for a moment and spit it back out the still open window. A muffled screech followed.

Whoops.

[just-mello-blog]

“…”

Sigh. Hopefully no one would suffer the wrath of terrible food. A gloved hand met his face, though immediately left it once it made contact with the burn. So much for that.

The question as to how Matt managed to find a much worse fast-food place baffled him, though it really shouldn’t have. Mello responded halfheartedly. “Thanks.”

[gameovermatt-blog]

He sputtered in reply, spitting off of the window ledge a few times for good measure.

"... I need a smoke."

[just-mello-blog]

“Are you sure? I can cook something.” The smell from the last box wafted to him, and his eyes narrowed, fingers drumming on the countertop to avoid an oncoming gag.

“Get those boxes out of here, Matt. And don’t eat them.”

[gameovermatt-blog]

"Prettysureyeah."

In one fell swoop, Matt defenestrated the entirety of his ill-gotten munchies--along with the contents of his stomach. Woe be to any poor sap who happened to be on the street below the nearest window.

[just-mello-blog]

Mello huffed, tilting his head to peer back at the redhead. “Are you sure you would rather risk food poisoning?”

He continued rummaging through the cabinets, growling under his breath when there was nothing great he could throw together. It was time to go shopping again soon, his least favorite chore. 

[gameovermatt-blog]

A third box was popped open, and before he had the chance to peer inside, the smell crashed into him.

Nope.

Nopenopenope.

"... Don't think 'm hungry anymore," he wheezed as he pushed the rancid carton as far from himself as he could manage.

[just-mello-blog]

“You’re an overgrown child,” came the simple reply, Mello’s nose wrinkled in disgust. 

“I’ll make something better if you don’t like that. I can move around and cook just fine.” After crumpling the paper in his hand and tossing it to the nearest bin, he turned and began opening cabinets and pulling out cans. “I’ll ask again. How does soup sound?”

[gameovermatt-blog]

The way Mello's skin moved as he shifted said otherwise. Two months wasn't even remotely enough time for him to be up and about, much less doing... whatever it was he'd been up to since he woke up.

Not that he'd ever listen.

"Chill, mum," he began. "Still have another couple o' packages t' sort through. 'M sure there's somethin'..."

[just-mello-blog]

“You know what? I’ll cook. Just set it aside.” No point in hearing Matt complain when it was entirely possible to pacify him.

“How does soup sound?”

[gameovermatt-blog]

He glanced back up at the blond, mayo-sodden crust dangling from his lips.

"Eh?"

[just-mello-blog]

“…”

It must be tough to be someone with an appetite like Matt’s. Mello, on the other hand, was already halfway through his second chocolate bar. Bitter, yes, but at least it wasn’t an eye. He offered the remaining bar to Matt.

[gameovermatt-blog]

He continued to ramble under his breath--mostly a rush of racial slurs punctuated with an assortment of inventive oaths--as he moved on to the next box.

Pizza in the loosest sense of the term.

It was round, at least.

"Who the 'ell puts mayonnaise on pizza?"

[just-mello-blog]

With a snap of the unwrapped chocolate, he settled into the chair near his friend. “At least you’re comfortable here.”

The Meiji bar was gone in under a minute; the blond slumped into his chair, eyeing the other boxes of food with a frown. Another bar of dark chocolate was in his hand instantly.

[gameovermatt-blog]

He winced as whatever he bit into exploded in his mouth. A torrent of barely intelligible swears followed as he spit the remains back into the container.

"Ithinkthatwasabloodyeye," he managed with a dry-sounding gag.

[just-mello-blog]

“I’m really not hungry. If you don’t know what it is, what makes you think I’ll trust it?” Peering into the box anyway, his face lit up. With a weak smirk, he protruded a chocolate bar and began to unwrap it. “Jackass.”

[gameovermatt-blog]

He wagged his tongue in reply, lips curled into a crooked little grin.

"Love you too, babe."

Gloved fingers fumbled with the zipper of his vest for a particularly long minute, fur trim making it far more difficult to unfasten than it really should have been. He tossed the article aside and rolled his shoulders, then set in to another one of the boxes, one full of batter fried... something.

[just-mello-blog]

Mello looked over each of the boxes, then to Matt. After a few moments, he spoke up. “Well, alright. Enjoy it. I’ll be on the couch when you’re finished.”

[gameovermatt-blog]

"Ooor y'could help me with some o' this," he added, pushing the odd box toward the blond.

[just-mello-blog]

“Coming, coming.” With a sigh, the door swung open. “You didn’t need to buy groceries. You’re my friend, not my wife.” He stepped back to let Matt in, closing the door once the guy was inside.

[gameovermatt-blog]

Mello's snark was met with a derisive snort and an unseen eyeroll.

"Groceries my arse. Got t-boned by a wave o' munchies on the way here." The boxes, each a different type of takeaway, were spilled onto the nearest table top. "Some sorta fish stuff, fried stuff, an attempt at pizza..." he rattled off, nodding to each. He paused at a questionable looking, brightly colored box. "... Not entirely sure what that is..."