::Closed RP for Mello and Near::

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

[[NSFW]]




It was enough public humiliation for one day.

Near hadn't even bothered to gather up his scattered cards. That would have been too much of a reminder of his uncharacteristic outburst. His eyes hurt.

And of course, his contact lens gear was in... their room? Mello's room? He didn't know anymore. But he made his way there, and knocked on the door.

No answer.

He opened the door.

No Mello.

After a few moments of fiddling around with his contacts, he decided his eyes were just too damned sore, and put on his loathed glasses, dark with thick heavy lenses.

Then he curled up on the windowseat and for the first time in as long as he could remember, started to cry.

unpopcorning Gregory House

[reuben-sandwich.livejournal.com]

nb: he has no recollection of his time here prior to being popcorned


Pop!

House stood very... very still. Moments before he'd been doing...

Actually, he couldn't remember what he'd been doing. He'd been doing... something. And he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with giant popcorn. And he was also pretty sure he hadn't been standing in a room, amongst giant popcorn, a moment ago but now he was. Or maybe he had been standing in a room full of giant popcorn. Except what would he want with giant popcorn? And, come to think of it, who the hell made giant popcorn?

He turned his head to the left and peered, bewildered, at the popcorn that lay scattered to his left, then looked to his right and saw the same thing. This, he decided as he went to take a step forward, had to be a dream. Because being in a room full of giant popcorn made no logical sense, and dreams were definitely not logical. So, any moment now, he was going to wake up in his bed and wonder what the hell---

"Ahhhngh!" he exclaimed quietly, dashing his hand down to his bad leg. He gripped it hard, almost teetering over and trying to steady his balance with his cane. He gritted his teeth and frantically rubbed at his thigh to work the sudden fierce pain that was shooting through it. If this was a dream, it was a very vividly tactile one. And if this was a dream, then why wasn't he waking up from the pain? He drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly in attempt to breathe through the pain, then forced himself to let go of his leg as he took a stiff step forward. His shoulders hunched and his face a grimace of both pain and bewilderment, he limped his way slowly out of the room and into a long, dark medieval-like corridor made of stone.

He stopped and looked both ways. Okay, now he was really confused.

Unpopcorning of L

[ijk-mno.livejournal.com]

Pop!
There is nothing so disorienting as one moment, knowing where you are, and the next, not.

That’s not to say L has an idea where he just was. But wherever it was, he was content there. He may not have had all the answers to his questions, or perhaps he doesn’t just remember them, but it was a comfortable state to be in.

Whereas now, he doesn’t.

It’s not very often that L is completely confused. Whether or not he has all the answers to the problem, he can usually formulate some sort of guess. The universe tends to conform to certain rational standards; if an unseen figure sets tea down at his elbow, it is usually Watari. If a woman is missing and her husband is on the television pleading for her safe return, he is usually responsible. They are simple formulas that, while not always universal, get him comfortably through the day.

There is nothing comfortable, universal, or logical about this. He takes a step, slips, and finds himself sprawled on the floor and coated in what smells like butter. He discerns that he’s surrounded by popcorn.

Ahead of him is a door. In that list of rational standards, there’s another rule. Doors lead somewhere. So L makes his way towards it, gingerly. The slightly scrawny, extremely pale, twenty year old detective (who already has deep dark circles etched underneath his eyes) pokes his head out uncertainly.

“Excuse me?”

[ooc: this L is pre-canon, and will remember nothing of past interactions here. Under new management.]