Reunited. [ Active ]

[nicotinic.livejournal.com]

Character(s): Mello (chocolatefetish) and Matt (nicotinic).
Content: Matt shows up in Paixao with no idea as to what's going on, Mello comes to fetch him and explain. Hopefully.
Setting: At one of the cafe's close to the Vanaheim Gate.
Time: The afternoon of July 25th.
Warnings: They both have foul vocabulary, I'm sure. And later comments are definitely not appropriate for younger viewers♥

Matt poked at his journal a bit, lacking in things to be occupied with. Turning it over in his hands, he narrowed his eyes a little, evidently trying to see if he could get it apart without tools. Realizing, unfortunately, that there wasn't any possible way for him to, he turned it face up to look at the screen and see if there was anything from Mello. Noticing that was, in fact, negative, he flipped it over.

Leaning back in the chair, balancing it on its back two legs, he rocked back and forth on it. He seriously hoped he didn't fall. Dead again after two minutes of being alive; that'd take some real skill. Either way, he continued to move, back and forth, lazy rocking. It kept him entertained for all of five seconds before he stopped, checking the journal again before writing a response -- noticing his hands were shaking already from lack of nicotine -- and dropping it back to the table, leaning in to balance his chair again.

As he waited for Mello, he motioned the waitress over, ordering some baby tea; half tea, half milk, and lots of sugar. Debating on getting something for Mello, he thought about it for a moment before requesting a milkshake; chocolate, of course.

He just hoped the idiot would show up soon. Impatient much?

Comments

[chocolatefetish.livejournal.com]

"Right back at you." Mello had obviously been teasing, hadn't he? Like he'd ask that question seriously! Matt should know better. And he for damn sure didn't want to tell him that he'd been looking to make sure none of the injuries from his death remained! That was just too fucking depressing for words.

He watched Matt tilt his chair back again, lips quirked in a small smile, wondering if or when he'd fall over. He'd done it often enough and yet he never learned not to do it. Not that Mello was complaining; he usually laughed at him for it. At least Matt used chairs, unlike Near and his stupid disdain of furniture. Never made any damn sense to Mello; chairs had been invented for a reason and were far more comfortable than sitting on the floor. But then he'd never had much use for the toys the arrogant ass used so often either. At least Near had left, too, and he thought he was glad. Though if Matt had returned... He'd have to consider. It would be interesting if there were a pattern to these things and it would be better to be prepared.

"Especially since these," he held up the journals, "are the only raw materials we've got." Though knowing Matt, he'd like it better that way, having to make his own parts. Mello preferred not to bother, not unless he had a use for the thing once he was done with it.

"I must be a sucker for letting you stay with me," he commented, but he was grinning. He didn't mind it too much; he'd been damn lonely and bored on his own. The whole thing with Ed and the prinnies had been amusing but after that, he'd been at loose ends and hating it. Mello had always had a purpose; the lack of one left him confused. At least Matt would be a distraction. "Not much work for my secretary yet. I'll have to work on that."

[nicotinic.livejournal.com]

Matt grinned all the while. "It's alive and kicking much like me. And sorry to say, kitten, I haven't fallen for you quite yet." Continuing the back-and-forth on the chair, he paused momentarily when he thought he might fall, only to continue the rocking once he'd regained balance. He knew that he was bound to go face first into the pavement any minute, but he didn't show any concern on the fact.

Drumming his fingers across his knees, repeating with the inhale-exhale of his cigarette, he glanced at his journal, tilting his head. He definitely needed to pull his apart and see what exactly was going on in it and what sort of technology it used. It might help in making whatever the previous him had started on the computer. Not that it would do any good having one, or so he imagined, at least from what Mello told him. At least it would keep him somewhat entertained.

No that he didn't have enough already.

Matt, personally, hated science. It was his worst subject at Wammy's (other than maths), and most of the time Matt skipped the class to save himself the effort when he knew he'd fail anyway. Despite that, he seriously wished he remembered enough to have a look over himself and find out what was where. And hoping that everything was where it should be. He felt normal enough, but being blasted full of lead and then brought back to life wasn't exactly something he ever expected to be doing. Not that he was complaining.

Stretching his arms up above his head with another grin, he shrugged, "You're not. You just can't deny my incredible charm. Besides, you know you missed me something chronic." Rocking back again, he took another drag from his cigarette before puffing a few more smoke rings into the air. "Have to make sure I have suitable legs for the skirts first, don't forget."