Two Dead Guys [Complete]

[p-laystation.livejournal.com]

Character(s): Betelguese, Matt
Content: Betelguese says he knows a way to get out, which Matt wants to know very much.
Setting: Cafe Ersesat, the one near Muepelheim (N3)
Time: A little bit after this thread
Warnings: None, as of yet

It wasn't that he was usually a twitchy individual, but when he ran out of cigarettes (a catastrophe he hadn't suffered from for the past three years) that he began getting anxious. And now, when he was back to life after dying (so he assumed, as long as this wasn't hell), and stuck in a strange city, the fact that all he had in his pocket was an empty packet was the icing on the cake. Taking one last drag before tossing aside the stub of his last smoke, he slouched in his chair, casting around nervously at his surroundings.

Where the hell was that loon? ...he wasn't one to normally just offer his services left and right to people, but this was different. The situation he'd left behind before his death was catastrophic; he'd promised to meet Mello at Nagano and get the two of them out of there, but now that he was here instead of there, who knew what had happened? Anything was possible. The police caught on with Mello, or maybe even killed...

"Fuck!" Swearing under his breath, he scanned the crowd once again for some sign of the man who'd offered him a way out.

Comments

[sayit3times.livejournal.com]

What a coincidence; the boy did possess green eyes. And here he was about to settle for blue. It must have been his lucky day. Or as close to a lucky day as it could be considering there were still a large majority of things that had yet to go his way with Matt. Not that it was discouraging him or anything, because in the end he knew he would crack the code. Each time he was receiving more and more hints, learning more and more... And taking to all to long to achieve his goal. Seriously. This wasn't like him, this was weak.

Drawing back at the teenagers angered reaction, the ghost looked slightly startled. He was really pushin' those buttons, forcing them down as far as they would go to the point it had lead Matt to a state of zero tolerance for such hogwash. If Betelguese didn't cut to the chase, he would leaving any minute. -or so he thought.

Here the boy thought he was in control. Like he had a choice. There was a laugh. Clearly he had underestimated the Bio-Exorcist, for he held every card in his hand and ultimately decided what was to happen. Everything was just where he wanted: it was Showtime.

Suddenly rising from his seat, he sent the chair flying backward and into another table. The floor began to rumble upon impact, shake with every step took by the pale being as he approached the boy. The lights grew bright, as if suddenly receiving a capacity far to great for the bulbs causing them to burst. Pictures that once hung from the walls of the cafe fell to the floor from the continues shaking beneath Matt's feet as the screams of the citizen rushing out of the restaurant filled his ears.

"Wither or not you'll be leaving isn't a choice you get." the ghost growled, towering over teenager as chains wrapped themselves around the boy preventing him from moving from his seat. They hissed almost snake like, tightening their hold of him while the twisted demon threw back his head screaming wildly in laughter.

Reality continued to slip lose, a new world revealing itself as the colour melted from the walls forming paint like puddles around them. The furniture followed, bowing in the most unnatural of fashions.

Taking grasp of the chains imprisoning Matt, Betelguese lifted him up off the floor through a display of great strength. His expression all the more wicked then ever. He was an absolute lunatic. A lunatic whom at this point held the teenager up at least twenty feet in the air by levitating. He was shaken about violently before the ghost threw himself forward, slamming his scull against the teenagers. His hand forcefully clutched the boys head, fingernails digging into his scalp as his cold, black eyes stared through the lenses shielding the eyes of his victim hungrily.

"If you want to leave here, I'll have to take your life to do so!" the deceased being explained all to cheerfully through perhaps the most chilling of tones. His hand, still grasping the chains, poked over the boys chest where his heart lay longingly. Now, he was being serious.

[p-laystation.livejournal.com]

It wasn't that he'd grown up in a nutshell, protected from harm. Hell, he'd had his fair share of street fights in the back alleys, and even holding his own in a few of them. Physical pain really wasn't too hard to endure. But this, well...this was different.

When the other stood up, he'd automatically thrown himself out of his chair out of instinct, sensing something was going horribly wrong; the next moment, the burst of light assaulted his eyes, and his vision went a pure, blissful black, along with a jagged pain that went shooting through his temples. The sounds of high-pitched screaming and the crash of furniture surrounded him as he cast about blindly, trying not to panic. Fuck.

His overly sensitive eyes were still in mid-recovery when he felt the chains wrap around his body. Though he struggled against them, there was just so much he could do, and a large majority of the air in his lungs escaped in a harsh gasp, the chains pressing tightly against his chest. "D...dammit..."

His pace quickening out of fear, he kicked madly as he felt himself being levitated. A small portion of his vision was beginning to return, though this wasn't necessarily an improvement; as far as sight went, he barely caught a blurred glimpse of the Bio-Exorcist's manic expression before being thrown forward. A small, strangled cry escaped his throat when the blunt force hit his head, and he shuddered. The pain was tremendous.

Betelguese's words rang in his ears as he shook his head, trying to gather his scattered thoughts amid the terror that threatened to take over his mind. Mello, the things I will go through for you... His blurry vision was now accompanied by a searing pain in his eyes, and he could feel a dull throb in his head, but he still managed the slightest hints of a grim smile. Fuck this shit. He'd faced off against three dozen armed bodyguards before, a fucking poltergeist couldn't be any worse.

The coppery taste of blood from where he'd bitten his tongue stuck to the back of his throat as he spoke, somehow keepinng his voice from shaking. "...and what use would I be to you dead? If you're aiming for souls, mine isn't exactly the purest one you'd want."