Let's value our lives.

Associated with Hotel 666.

[ssleuth-blog]

Arrival (Open)

[silverwrapper-blog]

A bit flustered, Mello grinned back at the man that had long since been something of an idol to him. 

“Wow- I-I can’t believe it…it’s really you…you’re supposed to be…well, you’re dead…Kira got you,” Mello stuttered. 

“B-but Near and I…we kind of…picked up where you left off. Not together, mind you. I still can’t stand that twit,” the blonde muttered.

Mello was suddenly nervous; how would L himself react to knowing that Mello had allowed his emotions to prevent him from doing what was sensible- working with Near to defeat Kira? He really hoped L wouldn’t be disappointed.

[ssleuth-blog]

"Yes, I am well-aware that you and Near took over the Kira case, after I was forced to fake my death," the black-haired man said assuringly to the blonde.

"I was not completely disconnected from the files, and I still had access to most of the information. I felt as though faking my death would make things a little less... tense, between Light and myself. After my 'death', he was exposed as Kira, just as I suspected."

[ssleuth-blog]

Arrival (Open)

[ssleuth-blog]

silverwrapper:

“Y-you know me!? ….That has to mean….y-you’re…”

Mello had sensed a familiarity as well as a high level of intelligence to this man…but…he never dreamed he was talking to the original L. He’d seen L once at a very young age right after his parents had been murdered  before his eyes.This man’s unruly black hair and soul reading stare definitely tied in with what Mello could remember  about the original L’s appearance. 

Mello had almost completely forgotten about giving the details of this hotel to the man upon learning his true identity.

The detective smiled over to the blonde as he stumbled his words, taking a large bite of his strawberry shortcake. He was quite enjoying this catching-up time with one of his protégé's.

"Yes, I am L," the black-haired man said assuringly, smiling to the blonde across the table from him.

[dranzers-deactivated20120726]

[ssleuth-blog]

Ask the character/mun: Ask the muse whatever you want for them to answer IC; or ask the mun a personal question to get to know better or to get an OOC answer [although we would like to keep these at a minimum]!

Truth/Dare: Be reasonable with the dares! If you start getting ridiculous no one will want to do them; characters aren’t really obligated to do all the dares they receive. Don’t forget about the truth part as well!

Headcanon: Anons send the character a word, or a name and you may write a small/long headcanon about said word!

Drabbles: Give the muse a prompt and they may write a short drabble on it.

[ssleuth-blog]

Arrival (Open)

[silverwrapper-blog]

“Strawberry shortcake? Probably. The dining hall usually has whatever you like…but not always. There should be something with strawberries, at least,” the blonde replied with an assuring smile.

He escorted the raven-haired man to the dining hall, all the while the sense of familiarity washing over  him. He was certain he’d seen or talked to this man before. 

“Well…you have a lot to hear about this hotel.  And most of it I don’t think you’re going to like a whole lot. Well, I could sugar coat it for you  or I could be blunt. The choice is yours…”

The blonde took a seat in one of the chairs, looking the eccentric man over.

“Sorry…but you seem very familiar, but it’s difficult to place. Feels like you were someone I knew when I was younger, but you can’t be…you aren’t affiliated with that orphanage…” the blonde said, shifting his gaze to a table of food near by. 

[ssleuth-blog]

"If this news about the hotel is bad news, then I would prefer if you did say it bluntly to me," the detective stated, taking a bite of strawberry shortcake that he had gotten from the dinner table nearby, looking over the blonde.

"And as for seeing me... yes, you seem very similar to me as well. You remind me of an older Mihael Keehl I had taken to the orphanage, after the tragic murders of his parents by Russian police." 

[ssleuth-blog]

Arrival (Open)

[railgunned02]

Mikoto stood in the lobby, watching the eccentric man walk into the hotel room. He was an odd sort; with messy black hair and a sloppy manner of dressing. His thin, sickly looking body and the dark circles under his eyes told her that he didn’t eat or sleep very much.To be completely honest, this man appeared as though a strong wind would do him in. However, she knew appearances could be deceiving.

She remembered meeting another thin, sickly looking person that was strong enough to kill or destroy just about anything without hardly lifting a finger. She’d also met someone labeled a Level 0 that could cancel out any supernatural power with his right hand, even though by all logic he shouldn’t have been able to do so. There was no way Mikoto would write off this man as a weakling or inferior due to appearance.

He looked like the sort of person you’d find in Academy City; Mikoto could easily imagine him being an esper,  although she knew this was probably unlikely. With the sense of self-confidence radiating off him, he’d most likely be a high-ranking esper if he were one; and considering she was the third ranked Level 5, she had an idea of who was considered the most powerful in Academy City. She’d never seen his face; she’d have remembered that wide-eyed, soul-reading stare. If he were Academy City’s, she’d know him; and considering she didn’t…

“Excuse me sir, you look lost. I know a little about this place. I’d be happy to help you if you don’t mind accepting guidance from a stranger a good bit younger than you,” she said, walking up to the raven haired man and giving him a nervous little smile.

[ssleuth-blog]

The detective looked her over as she spoke to him. Something about her seemed... a bit supernatural, he thought to himself. He felt as though he could almost feel a field of static electricity begin to surge as she walked towards him, but chose to ignore this feeling over the proposition of some help around the area.

"Yes, some help would be nice, and I do not judge people based simply off of age," L stated, bowing slowly. "I am Ryuzaki. And you are...?"

[ssleuth-blog]

Arrival (Open)

[scontro-di-rondine-deactivated2]

Yamamoto blinks as he watches the newcomer walk into the hotel, slowly and almost tiredly. His movements were extremely simple. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot and his attire was very drab.

It was almost that of someone who didn’t care about his appearance anymore, that of someone who hardly walked outside. Deciding to be friendly, the swordsman gets up off the chair he’s sitting in, only to have it taken over by one of his friends, and moves towards the unknown person.

As he the distance between them, his mind begins to think and wonder what the story behind this person was. Having been here for an uncountable amount of time, Yamamoto had heard numerous stories on how people came here.

He heard stories and told stories regarding attempts of escape. Stories of all sorts, all regarding the hotel in some way or another.

He puts an elbow on the counter and leans towards the other, smiling.

“Hey! I’m Yamamoto Takeshi!”

[ssleuth-blog]

The raven-haired detective turned his head as he heard footsteps walking towards him. Leaning against the counter, noticing no one had arrived, he did a small wave to the thin-framed man leaning his elbow on the counter and smiling to him, putting a finger to his lip as he began to speak.

"Hello. You may call me Ryuzaki. Tell me, Yamamoto-san, what do you know about this place? I'm sensing a very strange aura about all of this."

The detective would never admit it, but he was a bit concerned about his current state of living.

[ssleuth-blog]

Arrival (Open)

[silverwrapper-blog]

Mello had been walking along the lobby when he saw the eccentric man walk in. Mello dimly thought the man was familiar; the man’s strange appearance struck a familiar chord within him. It was like seeing someone you hung around when you really small years later. But the only place Mello could have known this man was from the orphanage; he had been too small to remember life with his parents.

A sudden urge to talk to this man overcame Mello; even though the blonde was pretty socially adept, an urge to make the first communication rarely happened with Mello. But he just strugged it off and walked toward the strange raven haired newcomer.

“Excuse me, sir…you look kinda…lost, and this place is pretty much a clusterfuck, pardon my French,” the blonde said politely.

Although Mello had a bit a of temper, it didn’t mean he didn’t know how to talk to his superiors, and Mello could tell just by looking at this man that he did, indeed, outrank him in some kind of way, whether it be age, intellect, or social status. 

“Would you care for…like,  a guide or something? If you don’t come with me, there will be this annoying blonde girl that comes around, telling you to die, or else hurry up and get your key. There’s food in the dining room. Care for a bite to eat while we chat?

[ssleuth-blog]

The black-haired man looked over to the blonde speaking to him, observing his speech patterns as he asked him a few questions, noticing his body movement, and looking over his mid-length blonde hair. He recognized this teenage-looking blonde-haired boy talking to him from a distant memory. L had been the one who oversaw that he got into the same children's orphanage as the one he grew up in, Wammy's House.

"Yes, some food would be nice," the detective said calmly. "Do you know if they have any strawberry shortcake?"

[ssleuth-blog]

Arrival (Open)

The raven-haired man looked lazily out the tinted window of a normal-looking white Honda Civic, looking around the outskirts of the city that Watari, his personal butler, was driving through. L did not like to have his presence known, as he already had enough trouble to worry about. L was the #1 and #2 detective in the world, going by multiple aliases elsewhere and keeping his identity a closely-guarded secret. Not many people on planet Earth had seen the detective's face, or even heard his real voice, for that matter. 

Today was different, though.

L had been working on a case known as the 'Kira case', which related to a serial killer using a special type of book in order to kill convicted criminals. In order to keep his presence relatively hidden, L moved around from hotel to hotel, using untraced bills and false aliases. Today, he had picked a hotel with a rich past: Hotel 666. 

Watari parked in front of the entrance to the hotel and stepped out quietly, going around the side of the car and opening the detective's door for him. L slowly stepped out of the car onto the carpet below his bare feet. The butler closed his door and walked to the hotel's lobby door, opening it him and leading him in.

As L walked in, he immediately felt a shiver run down his slightly-bent spine. He noticed a few people within the lobby, but the surroundings were particularly… eerie. Stained doors, cracked tiles, and blackened curtains were just a few of the surroundings that seemed particularly... off. Feeling as though he could handle this situation himself, L waved off his butler, and Watari stepped back and closed the door behind the detective, going back outside and driving away from the hotel. Just as soon as Watari had closed the large door behind him, L heard a small "click" sound. Deciding to ignore it for now, L slowly made his way to the front desk of the hotel, his bare feet pattering along the cold tiled floors. 

He reached for a small bell at the top of the desk and dinged it, waiting for someone to appear from the door leading to the front desk. "Hello…? I would like to get a room, please," L said calmly, waiting for an assistant to appear from the slightly-rusted steel door.