event } take me down to paradise city (part one)

[seeingyou]

WHO: All passengers signed up to skate on over to Xanadu.
WHAT: Ya (fake) dead. Enjoy your (fake) afterlife!
WHERE: Anywhere in the city!
WHEN: First week of the event (Feb. 20-27).
WARNINGS: Add these to your comment subject lines as needed! Please don’t get yourself killed right away but if you can’t resist please make sure to fill out the death page.



You return to consciousness bathed in pleasantly glowing light and find yourself seated in a comfortable chair in the center of an arena. There’s soft, dreamy pop music playing quietly, and you feel calm, entirely at peace despite your strange surroundings. You feel no reason to stir from your chair or investigate what’s happening - probably because you’ve been drugged into a docile state. Don’t worry, it’ll wear off eventually. For now, you feel content to sit and wait for what happens next.

While you wait, if you look around, you’ll see the stadium seats are packed with people, their chatter a quiet hum behind the music. There is a raised platform in front of you where three people of ambiguous gender dressed in regal robes are seated in high-backed chairs, and above them, some kind of hovering screen displays a generic welcome message in stark lettering. You’ll also discover that you are one of several people seated in the center of the arena. Again, you may wonder where you are and why you’re here, since you don’t remember arriving, but you do not feel any initiative to find the answers to those questions. All will be answered in time.

A triumphant fanfare sounds, and the arena goes quiet, still except for the person on the platform seated in the middle, who stands and steps forward. They give a hearty welcome to the crowd gathered, and an extra special welcome to the small group on the ground, then introduce themself and the other two as the City Council, a group appointed to ensure everything here is kept in smooth running order. This city, they explain, is called Xanadu, and it is a place of perfect bliss that is home to only the most exemplary individuals who have moved to the next stage of their existence - in other words, the afterlife. Yes, you are all dead, but you have been given a place in paradise for the rest of eternity. Isn’t that nice?

The crowd in the stadium breaks into a wave of thunderous applause, soon quieted by the Council member speaking with a wave of their hand. They continue, explaining that you’ll be shown to your new homes and introduced to your soulmates, a partner who has been determined as perfectly compatible with each individual’s essence. A small group of volunteers has gathered at the base of the podium, ready to guide each pair to their new home as they’re called forward, one by one:

Julia Bellamy and Lady
Near and Matt
Mammon and Alex Reagan
Juuzou Suzuya and Kankri Vantas
Murmur and Jonathan Sims

Congratulations, and again, welcome to Xanadu!

Volunteers lead each pair of soulmates to one of the small, pastel-colored houses situated in a cul-de-sac in one of the nearby neighborhoods. Furnishings and the shag carpeting inside are plain and beige, but the volunteer-guide explains that they can be personalized to the inhabitants’ liking by making requests from the magic closet. These closets will instantly produce clothing and whatever other items you’d like. Likewise, whatever foods you most desire will be found in the fridge or cooking in the oven whenever you ask for it. Both the closets and the kitchens run on technology that is new to Xanadu, and some of the kinks still need to be worked out, so requested items may not be exactly as you asked for. But hey, you’re in paradise! You’ll be fine.

The guide goes on to explain that there isn’t much in the way of technology to be found anywhere in the city - no phones, no computers, and none of the stresses that come as part of the package, and requests for such items from the closets will encounter errors. This is all for the common good, of course. But who needs electronic devices when you have a beautiful city to explore? The city itself is massive, designed in a glitzy late 70s-early 80s roller disco aesthetic, enclosed in a shimmering golden dome, full of glittering skyscrapers and lush public gardens. Soft rock music floats through the air via hidden speakers to set the mood. The weather here is always pleasantly perfect early summer, and the atmosphere is pristine - not a single trace of smog or other pollution. That’s because there are no manufacturing plants or vehicles to be found anywhere in the city. Modes of transportation in Xanadu are pedal bicycles, your own two feet, and roller skates. Strap on a pair and roll around the neighborhoods, or to cover longer distances, head down to an electric rail station, where you will strap in and be pulled along to your destination on your skates at high speed.

By the time the orientation is over and the guide has departed, leaving you to get to know your soulmate and settle in to the comforts of eternal paradise, that drug you’d been given will have worn off. So, newlydeads, what will you do next?

Comments

[piacularis]

Every stumbling word Matt says, every glance he gives Mello feels like knives sliding into the spaces of his rib cage, seeking to pierce his impossibly-beating heart. Mello has seen more than his share of death, even been the cause for some of it, but he’s never been in the position to watch a friend struggle to process a truth of this magnitude. Mello almost wishes he hadn’t said anything - then Matt wouldn’t have to carry the burden of knowing that he is dead - but wouldn’t the truth come out sooner or later? Better to cause a quick hurt now and give Matt more time to heal.

“There was a news report,” he begins, eyes closed while he searches the archive of his mind for the details. So much happened so fast. “I saw it when I was driving the truck. Your car was all shot up, and the report said the driver was killed.”

Matt’s question snaps Mello back to the present, eyes open wide with horror at the suggestion. He shakes his head firmly and reaches to place a gloved hand at his friend’s knee.

“No - Matt, no, not at all. It was Kira. A heart attack, of course, and Near was supposed to see that there was a fake notebook, but if he’s here too, that means he didn’t figure it out.”

Which is frustrating in its own right, but additionally so in that it meant that Mello failed, that his entire plan was useless, Matt’s death and his own ultimately served no purpose. Wasted resources. He’ll have some choice words for the big-headed twit later, but right now, Mello’s focus is on making this make sense for Matt.

“You were supposed to get away. I wanted you to get clear of the city so you’d be safe, not for any reason having to do with me.”

And even though Mello hasn’t admitted it outright, Matt’s smart enough to put the pieces together and solve the equation, if he chooses to make the effort: Mello planned to die.

[smokingguns]

They shot his car?? Not only were they murderous bastards they shot a god damn classic full of holes. There was just nothing fucking sacred anymore. "...That's a nineteen s--." Matt raised his hand, ignore him, he was about to go on an unrelated and unimportant rant. Maybe out of upset and disgust, but also maybe a little bit because he had a topic at hand he wasn't keen on. He stayed silent and let his hands back to where they were, listening then. Take a moment and let it breathe out before he went on about his car. He loved that car. Don't ask him how he got it but he loved that car. Beside that, Mello really had more important things to talk about.

Quietly, he sat and listened, all the way through even if some of it didn't make pure sense. But. What Mello said about his own death, also didn't strike him as hard as what the rest of what Mello said had just done. In fact, Mello would be privy to watch in real time as Matt, easily, put the pieces together and those goggles did nothing to mute the confused, lightly angry look that pulled onto his features. In fact, the silence versus the look of his eyes searching Mello's face for the punchline that told him he hadn't planned on dying... The hopeful somewhere back there, dwindling down.

There, of course, was none and Matt's features went from curious to a small, hurt, angry look. Which language would best affect how he felt? None of them seemed to have the words he would need to accurately vocalize how mad he was. Not at dying, either, which he still wasn't convinced of. In fact, the tight line of his mouth got all the more tighter as he looked away and then back, maybe hopeful that something would change before his eyes looked out at the porch and he stood up, letting Mello's hand fall away off his lap.

One hand on his hip and the other running through his hair, Matt kept his back to Mello, trying to figure out how to sum up how angry he was. Furthermore, if Mello was dead there was nothing to be done. They were both dead but Mello was always, always doing this in some fucking way. "I really hope I died first and that it wasn't for show on TV, they can say anything they want on there. I really, really fuckin' hope it. I'm so fucking tired of you going off on your own and being a selfish bitch leaving me behind."

Alright, a little sharper than he had intended but he was really hurt, upset.

[piacularis]

Matt’s words are sharp indeed; he couldn’t have hurt Mello more unless he’d made a comparison to Near. Matt may have only hurled words at him, but they feel to Mello like a hard slap in the face. Sure, Mello knows he’s a selfish bitch, but not in the ways Matt’s accused him. He genuinely believed Matt would be better off without him.

Mello shuts his eyes and inhales a slow, deep breath to steady the building flood of rage threatening to burst free from inside of him. He could yell at Matt for being a complete idiot, or get up and shove or punch him - even apologize and ask for forgiveness, though that’s at the very bottom of his list of options. But he does none of these things, choosing instead to calmly rise from the chair and respond in a low, icy tone:

“I stayed when you asked me to.” He huffs, disgusted with himself for being such a fucking failure. “I wish I hadn’t.”

If he hadn’t stayed with Matt, if he hadn’t been weak and selfish then, taking the comfort his friend offered, Matt would still be alive. And the fact that he’s not is a weight Mello will carry in his heart for the rest of eternity.

Fuck this. Matt can stay mad and go back to being Near’s soulmate or best friend or whatever. Mello turns on his heel and heads inside, letting the screen door slam behind him, not bothering to shut the heavier inner door. A few moments later, Matt will be able to hear a loud crash from inside the house as Mello knocks over a tall curio cabinet filled with porcelain angel figurines. Breaking stupid fragile things will have to suffice for soothing his anger for now.

[smokingguns]

The moment the words left him, Matt regretted saying them out loud but maybe it was about time Mello heard them. Maybe it was time for him to actually tell someone how he felt when they should know how he felt. It was Matt's turn to just clench his fists and try to breathe out through the want to act on the rising heat in his veins. What he wanted to bark back was that he had left when he needed him the most, but really? Mello knew. Mello knew in his heart of hearts that he had left Matt behind in the same way he had through death as it seemed.

Matt said nothing, choosing to grit his teeth behind the thin line of his tightly pursed lips before he said something else he knew he'd regret. The thought of going back to Near crossed his mind and maybe he should have, but instead he forced his hands open and held onto the railing to calm down. It meant he wouldn't storm off, which would make things worse and it meant he wouldn't follow Mello which would make things worse.

Then again from the sound he just heard inside, Matt had to calm himself a few moments and pushed against the wood of the porch. Mello crashing things around in his house was on mark for him. If Matt left, he was going to be no better than Mello. So instead, he walked into the house and slammed the poor door who did nothing to either of the two men. "Stop tantruming, what's the point? None. Don't like what I said? Too bad. I don't like that you wish you never stayed. I'm not putting my foot through your window."

[piacularis]

"Piss off and get out of my house."

Mello's words - which he doesn't mean at all - come from the living room, where he has taken a seat on the couch, slumped forward and propped up with his elbows on his knees, bare fingers curled tightly into his hair. His gloves have been discarded carelessly on the nearby coffee table. Gone is the coldness from his voice; now he just sounds tired.

He is tired. He'd made as much peace as possible with ending his existence, and now he's forced to continue living with his failures. Mello just. Can't. Ever win.

"You don't have a single clue, do you?" He laughs bitterly, pulls his head out of his hands, and levels a glare at Matt that is equal parts angry and hurt. "If I'd left, I wouldn't have gotten you killed - that's why I wish I hadn't stayed."

Slowly, Mello rises from the couch and crosses the floor - now littered with broken porcelain and glass shards, to which he pays no mind - to meet Matt straight on. If he wants a fight, Mello's not planning to back down.

"Go ahead - call me a selfish bitch again and say it to my face this time."

[smokingguns]

With Mello telling him to leave, Matt made the decision to disregard it. He knew mad and if Mello wanted him gone he would have had glass thrown at him, not words. The sound of his voice belied that he was more frustrated than he was anything else.

Alright so if Matt removed himself from the situation and thought about it a little more, maybe he could understand instead of being angry. You know, except when Mello told him he had no clue. He bit his inner lip and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. Matt was trying hard to keep his eyes on Mello's face, but the more he talked the more he just got upset.

When prompted, Matt didn't hesitate and locked eyes with him. "You were a selfish bitch and left me when it isn't your place to make my decisions for me. It's up to me if I put my life on the line and what did you think I'd do without you? What do you think I'm going to do without you? What do you think I did without you?"

[piacularis]

Somehow, even though Mello's expecting it, Matt's words hurt even more the second time. Matt was literally one of two people Mello genuinely cared about, and his effort to demonstrate that regard, backwards as it may be, has not only been disregarded but thoroughly trampled. Part of his brain realizes that he should bite his tongue to keep from saying something he'll later regret, but the louder part? It's too hurt to care.

"What I thought you'd do without me," he answers, eyes narrowed, hands set firmly on his hips, "is exactly what you did - go work for Near."

Matt didn't need Mello - no one did, but definitely not Matt. He could have a future working with the new, rightful L, which is more than Mello could offer, if he'd planned to stay alive. Matt didn't need to be saddled with the same criminal existence as Mello. In his own mind, by the time he devised his final stratagem, Mello was inconsequential, and full awareness of Matt's affection for him wasn't enough to alter his calculations in assessing his own worth.

[smokingguns]

Mello could make all the assumptions in the world about him, as many as he wanted to and what was best for him or what course of his life was better. He was right, he was better off without Mello in the scope of things, but he was better off without Wammy's in general in his own opinion. They should've let him rot and die in the system because Wammy's was nothing but false hope and lies.

"Huh..." Matt replied, not a question, more the tone of a revelation. "Here I thought you'd never be wrong." With a soft sigh, he shook his head and put his hands into his coat pockets. There was really no getting much into the ones in his jeans. "Near and I aren't you and Near. I grew up with both of you at separate times, but unlike you who knows me Near doesn't trust me. He knows he could if I worked for him, but wouldn't take the chance and won't take the chance. He also knows you're my priority. If you wouldn't just fight about other inconsequential things, he could tell you himself."

That much was true, even working under him to amass resource, Matt was given jobs to do and enough that he could keep on tab with Mello but that was it. Matt's job was Mello because Near knew he wanted it to be and that was a safe enough distance from Near's own work to be helpful but not a liability. "I went to work for him to find you. Near and I aren't mortal enemies, but you were who I wanted and I couldn't do it by myself. I tried. I didn't have the skills and I wasn't going to rely on the way I could on my own. So be mad and get it out of your system, but you know I'm right. You don't make my decisions for me and I don't think I died. They said on television that I died. Did they show my face? My body? Anything else?"

[piacularis]

Oh course he’s wrong; everything he does is wrong, as history has shown. Mello himself is wrong, defective, unsatisfactory. Worthless. He hasn’t felt like anyone’s priority since his mother died. Has he really been so blind, to not see Matt’s perspective? He’d assumed it was a lingering teenage crush that prompted Matt to seek him out - with excellent timing, given he’d turned up to help Mello pull himself together after he’d blown himself apart. Mello hadn’t considered that there may’ve been more to it.

The clarity of these revelations slowly drains away his anger, replacing it with a deep, heavy sadness. Matt spent so much time and effort on tracking him down, and not only did Mello not recognize it, he failed to keep his friend safe.

Which brings them back to current circumstances. Sure, the news report could’ve been faked; it’s possible Matt escaped. There are several reasons Mello can think of immediately why the news would’ve given a false report: to allow Takada’s security detail to save face, to hammer home yet again that defying Kira is a death sentence. Mello just doesn’t think it’s likely, given what he saw of the wreckage of Matt’s car.

He’s quiet while running all of these thoughts through his brain, processing all of the information and coming out feeling even worse on the other side of it.

“Believe what you want,” he finally says, in that same exhausted tone from before. “I know what I saw.”

He silently shakes his head and turns away from Matt to head for the tipped-over curio cabinet. It doesn’t take much effort to push it back upright. Mello then crouches to the ground and begins picking up some of the larger shards of porcelain and glass scattered on the floor.

“You shouldn’t want me, Matt.”

[smokingguns]

There were a lot of levels of upset and understanding and a lot of those things weren't moving anyone's heart. They had their own knowledge and thoughts on what happened but Matt wasn't convinced he was dead. He had no memory of anyone shooting at his car. "I've got no memory of anyone shooting at my car, Mello. I was driving away the last I remember. Maybe believe me instead of what they wanted you, wanted everyone to see."

When Mello made the move to be a little more proactive in righting the things he had already broken, Matt made no move to help at that second. Not until he moved himself forward and crouched down to help with gloved hands. "You should stop telling me what I want, Mello. I made my mind up who I wanted to be around a long time ago and that may be hypocritical but if you don't feel the same let's just get it out of the way in the beginning of eternity so we can be awkward from afar instead."

[piacularis]

What are his feelings for Matt? Mello goes silent for a long moment, assessing the contents of his heart. Obviously he cares for Matt and values his friendship, but is there deeper affection as well? Mello typically doesn’t mix sex and genuine feelings, though he’s good at pretending to, when it suits his needs. In reality, they are two things compartmentalized and kept apart.

Since Matt re-entered his life, that’s all been a lot more complicated. If pressed, Mello would claim he’s not capable of forming a strong positive emotional bond, but the truth is, he’s afraid to. Emotional bonds are a liability in the life he chose, and the threat of pain in loss is impossible to overlook. In many ways, Mello never recovered from his mother’s death; if he never loves anyone else, he can’t be hurt by their death or disappearance like he was with hers.

And yet ... Matt is his friend. Mello already has this connection, which appears to be stronger than he’d realized. Mello thought he understood things clearly when he agreed to stay with Matt and involve him in his plans for Kira, but now he can see he underestimated Matt by a lot.

“I just meant - it’s not a good idea,” he says, finally. “I’m not a good person to be around, I’m - “ Not good enough, he doesn’t say, because admitting that aloud, even to Matt, is another layer of defeat.

“Besides,” he adds, in a slightly sharper tone, “I have it on good authority that I’m a selfish bitch. Why would you want to be with someone like that?”

[smokingguns]

Uh oh. There was a little bit of hesitation in the way Mello procured the answer and Matt was well enough a contender for L in his own right to read it. The self deprecation he could see a mile away and it made him frown to know that Mello hated himself and wasn't sure of them, either. It didn't seem like a negative, it just didn't seem all that positive either.

None of it felt good and Matt just nodded his head in reply. There wasn't anything that he wanted more than to tell him he was being an idiot but Mello's feelings were paramount. Paramount and he was throwing his words at him. If it wasn't for the words thrown at him, he might have honestly given in.

"...Because selfish bitches don't make my decisions for me. I make my own decisions." He opened his mouth to say something else and stood up instead, drawing a deep sigh in and letting it out slowly. Setting some of the glass aside, Matt's eyes looked on at broken items, feeling their state all too well. "I know how I've felt about you and about your mission to beat Near since I was a kid, Mello. What I've never been able to figure out is how you felt since all you've ever done is chase Near. I've always been there, but it was always him you saw-- see."

[piacularis]

Matt often made it easy to forget that he too is a genius and trained as a detective; he isn't showy about it like Mello and Near, but when it truly counts, he's able to pull out a stunning observation like he's just done with Mello. Shit, he's so accurate it hurts. Mello has always had tunnel vision when it comes to Near, and Matt's just shown him that he's been a terrible friend for longer than this latest incident of getting him killed or leaving him behind. For a moment, Mello feels like the floor's dropped out from underneath him, leaving him struggling just to breathe.

Does that answer his question, then? Does he have stronger feelings for Matt, or is he stricken with another layer of guilt for treating his friend so poorly? Mello is afraid to admit it, even to himself, but he thinks it's both.

Slowly, he stands up and sets the pile of shards in his hand on top of the cabinet. Cleanup can wait; resolving this tension between them is more important. Matt is more important, and Mello turns to him wearing a sincere expression of sorrowful remorse. How has he been so blind, so stupid, for so many years?

"I see you, Matt." Better now than ever before, and Mello silently vows to never take Matt for granted again. He can do better - he can be better, and after everything Matt's done for him, Mello owes him at least that much - more, if he's honest with himself about it. He may not be able to ever truly make things right between them, but he won't stop trying.

There isn't much Mello will apologize for; he believes that even his worst actions have been justified in the name of reaching his goals, but he genuinely regrets how he's behaved with Matt. He effortlessly closes the distance between them so he can study his friend's face for a moment, searching for an answer he already knows. Mello isn't typically at a loss for words, but in this moment, he doesn't trust that any words he could summon up to explain his feelings wouldn't only do harm.

So he keeps it simple: "I'm sorry." And he leans in to show (not tell) Matt how he feels about him with a gentle kiss pressed to his lips.

[smokingguns]

There was no way for sure to tell how Mello had ever lost sight of someone as steadfast and loyal to his own demise as Matt. Likely it really had been Mello's ambitions that had cost him the most precious things in his life as it slowly slid down a hill into his very own secret hell before his death, too.

Hearing Mello say the words 'I see you' made his heart sink again. It wasn't about actually being seen or profiled. What he wanted was Mello to see them and with Mello's track record of sitting on the fence with them even in their older age before they both apparently fucking died and ended up in fake heaven with Near... No, that was the emotional part of him, the parts that Near was so much better at handling than him. The part that Mello was better at utilizing than him. Comparatively, he was normal in that aspect even if he was anything but emotionally stable ultimately.

Mello's steps were something he anticipated. He could calculate things that people were going to do as easily as the other two above him. 'Above' him. The looking at his face, the way he paused and the way he studied Matt. The quiet apology only broke his heart all the more. He couldn't even tell him what he was sorry for and yet when Mello leaned forward, Matt's body followed suit. It was second nature to want to hold the other successor, to let the tilt of his head meet a soft kiss in against the blonds lips in return.

The gentle press was turned to a little more languid for him and the more that he held the small kiss, the more Matt felt the shattered pieces of glass on the floor have more stability than his heart at that moment. There were less pieces from the broken cabinet even as he held Mello close. The warm of his body up against his chest did nothing to heal the pain he felt as he pulled away from Mello.

"...I know you are, Mello. In my heart of hearts I know you are." Finally, he replied and leaned his forehead against Mello's, eyes closed behind his goggles. Knowing fixed nothing. "But for..." Matt's eyes opened and lay directly in gaze with Mello's. This was the hardest thing he ever had to say. He had Mello right there, held warmly in his arms and content in said hold. However, the doubt remained and he knew it might have remained for Mello, too.

Matt wasn't ever big on tears or crying himself, he gave it up long before Wammy's, but he felt the strong urge as he kissed Mello one last time on the bridge of his nose. Ever careful of his scar, the linger of his lips left at the same time as he was slipping his arms away, at the same time as he made his uncertain legs take a small pivot to the side. Everything in his body screamed not to let go of Mello in that moment and his hands were forced into the compartment of his pockets. If he hadn't forced his hands in their prison, he didn't know if he would have the strength to be continuing what he had to say. The last time his voice had broken was many years back in his teenage years, but the obviously broken up inner war he was going through was evident in the way he spoke. He just wanted Mello. "But for my sake, you..." Matt swallowed hard, his eyes turned downward. Maybe that would help with the next words. "You need to figure out how you feel. Not how I want you feel. Maybe when you know, then I won't have room for doubting you're more than just sincerely sorry."