The Road Less Traveled... [CLOSED]
Who: Mello (leatherrr) & Sakurazuka Seishirou (satsujin_ai)
Where: City outskirts, near the forest
When: Night of Nov. 22
Rating: PG-13 for language, at least
Summary: Mello requests a meeting. Seishirou happens to be kind enough to show.
the log:
Nighttime, near the forest. Moving through cold and clear places (cloudless sky, still-nameless stars), within and without; seemed like the order of the day, and the only real course of action Mello could allow himself after the past week. Near's arrival posed a real and present threat to each and every thing he'd built in this foreign city--and hell if he was going to sit back and take it.
So he would move with what information he had, gather more on the fly and take the gambles when opportunity dropped them in his lap. He'd contacted Seishirou fresh off of whatever encounter the man had had (likely with Sorata, if you extrapolated the extra millimeter between the lines) that had put him in what seemed to be a good mood. Had to hit the iron while it was hot, after all.
Contrary to his word, he wasn't dressed in neon (god fucking forbid, his hair was enough of a flag already), but made no effort to hide his movements at the city's edge. He had a pair of guns, one of them his own, fully loaded; but he wasn't anticipating using them.
Where: City outskirts, near the forest
When: Night of Nov. 22
Rating: PG-13 for language, at least
Summary: Mello requests a meeting. Seishirou happens to be kind enough to show.
the log:
Nighttime, near the forest. Moving through cold and clear places (cloudless sky, still-nameless stars), within and without; seemed like the order of the day, and the only real course of action Mello could allow himself after the past week. Near's arrival posed a real and present threat to each and every thing he'd built in this foreign city--and hell if he was going to sit back and take it.
So he would move with what information he had, gather more on the fly and take the gambles when opportunity dropped them in his lap. He'd contacted Seishirou fresh off of whatever encounter the man had had (likely with Sorata, if you extrapolated the extra millimeter between the lines) that had put him in what seemed to be a good mood. Had to hit the iron while it was hot, after all.
Contrary to his word, he wasn't dressed in neon (god fucking forbid, his hair was enough of a flag already), but made no effort to hide his movements at the city's edge. He had a pair of guns, one of them his own, fully loaded; but he wasn't anticipating using them.