aefenglom | Voice; UN: Deneuve

Entry tags:

Voice; UN: Deneuve

Name: M; UN: Deneuve
Date: 3/1/21
Format: [Voice]

[There's a short blip of silence; Mello knows that even his voice can be identified if needed and traced. But he remembers the pain in his chest. The swirling of the delivery truck's mirror, and everything after that, well — ]

[A sharp clearing of his throat. It's so dry.]

I know what I've been told.

[Everything is bullshit until proven otherwise.]

And I know what I'm expected to believe.

[Definitely lies. And for one: he knows he's died. It doesn't take a previous heart attack in his situation to recognize one when it tears at your chest and throat and breath like a visceral assault. Besides, he was always due for one: wasn't he?]

I don't expect honesty from anyone. [And yet here he is: reaching out. Because what else can he do?] But a Witch?

[Or so he's been told. How appropriate. Another pause; another breath.]

Is this Hell?

[He's seen nothing that leads him to believe otherwise. The mirror with the objects and reflections from home. The things that just don't make sense. Maybe someone will honestly reveal that yes, he's earned this. Maybe not.]

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[For a second, L does, in fact, think that this is hell. He could consult his Bonded, at the very least Near, and mutually determine how best to inform Mello. In the end, he doesn't have the heart to lie, at least through more than mere omission.

His voice is a soft monotone when he answers.]

What you've been told is true; what you're expected to believe won't change. It's a reality all of us share, and so... sooner would be better.

[ Alex didn’t frequent the network often, only sometimes watching the videos or reading over posts. It was another idle moment of going through them when she comes upon an audio recording. She didn’t recognize the username, but taps on it curiously.

The moment the voices comes through from her device, she almost drops it. It wasn’t as if something like this hasn’t happened before, but with so many having left recently, she hadn’t expected someone to return. How long had it been since she last heard his voice? How could she be sure?

With not much to lose, Alex decides to call him directly. ]

M, is that you?

[Of course the Devil would send him something familiar to comfort him. He deserves this, yea? Even if all he's done was for the sake of the greater good.]

[Respond or remain silent? Either or. Neither matters at this point, does it?]

[But Mello's always been a fighter.]

You sound just like Him.

[Funny, that.]

I should be offended. [Or humored.] I suppose you have no intention of telling me who you really are.

[And why would a fallen thing speak the truth when lies are so much easier with which to deceive? A chuckle, nothing more.]

I wouldn't. If I were you.

[Whatever you are.]

[M, Em, Emm — What does it matter? All is revealed; his book was opened straight down the middle and this was the decision.]

Maybe.

[A Witch: so he's been told. Does identity even matter before? Mello's voice takes on a combative tone. Better than curiosity. That would make him appear too weak, when all is said and done.]

Who are you?

[Of course, he expects a lie. The voice is unfamiliar, even if there's a tone of genuine, innocent inquiry behind it.]

Edited 2021-03-01 22:43 (UTC)

That always depends on who you ask, doesn't it?

[Near doesn't beat around the bush. He switches his own feed to video, capturing only his upper half.]

You can take some time to mentally go through all the possibilities if you want. I'll wait, but please don't take too long.

Edited 2021-03-01 22:45 (UTC)

[ The more she listened to his voice, along with the cautious responses, the more she believed it could be him.

But, it seems he didn’t return that recognition, her shoulders dropping along with her tone. ]

It’s Alex...

[ He’d at least remember her name, wouldn’t he? With his brain there’s no way he wouldn’t. ]

[L's sigh is quiet and shallow. It's clear; he's certain, now, that Mello does not remember.

A shame, or a blessing? Will time be the one to tell?]

I'm not who you think I am. That's also true; I expect you to believe it, and it will really be better, if it's sooner.

[Should he say what happened? Draw a boundary, forbid even a meeting? Make claims that will laer be seen as sabotaging games?

[Oh, this place is just throwing them at him, isn't it? But it got this one wrong. Too old, though the tone and response sits properly with Mello. Like the previous one who is what he knows, this one is far too familiar with enough changes to make him question the validity. A solid two to three minutes of silence before he responds. And then — ]

Depends.

[On you.]

You've got it wrong, by the way.

[N doesn't look this way.]

Didn't dig deep enough, I suppose.

Edited 2021-03-01 22:54 (UTC)

I don't know you.

[Of that much, he could be sure.]

So who are you playing at? A bint I met at a club?

[All offense intended.]

[Midousuji likes the cut of this jerk's jib. he stifles a laugh into his dry, bony hands before he responds.]

I was thinking this is more like a coma dream..... I don't personally believe in things like Hell, but this creepy, nasty place is tailor fit for torment, so Hell certainly isn't a far cry! That'd be one twisted way to be proven wrong on one's beliefs...

But in the end, your only answer and subsequently your own reality will probably just be that: your belief. No matter the conclusion, it's an unforgivably repulsive state.

[From their short encounter so long ago, Mello has learned one thing: L has always spoken in riddles, hasn't he? Ever elusive, even when they were face-to face. The exasperated sigh throws him off for only less than a second. This is supposed to throw him off. Remember, remember.]

I know you're not.

[But you won't tell me who you are. Would he? No. Mello shakes off the possibility immediately.]

What do you want?

Edited 2021-03-01 23:00 (UTC)

[ His words prick at her heart, making her doubt it was M. But...she had only ever met one person who’d use the term ‘bint’. He had no reason to lie, and if he wanted nothing to do with her he would have been more direct about it. Plus, he seemed surprised to be a witch in his original post. Had something happened? ]

We worked together at the tavern. Do you really not remember anything from here?

Just one thing.

Keep your distance, at least for awhile. It would be better if you don't come looking for me.

[He means for his voice to sound gentle, neutral. Instead, it's as though it's sprouted tiny, but noticeable, thorns.]

[Repulsive. Mello's never cared for the word regarding himself. Not until the scabs healed, and even then — ]

[Doesn't matter. Not here, anyway.]

I'm not dreaming.

[He knows that much, at least.]

So your answer is that if I believe in Hell, then this is what it'll be? What if I choose to believe that I deserve Heaven? Or nothing at all.

[He never really knew what to believe, anyway. No one with any sort of intelligence would commit themselves to a single truth without proof.]

And If I believe this a dream? Will I wake up?

I've never worked at a tavern.

[There's a humorous undertone; of course he'd never sink that low. Who is this person?]

But you know me, yea? Tell me about myself. I'm curious to hear your opinion on the matter.

[Indulgence? Maybe. Pride? Absolutely.]

[Be more obvious. Reverse psychology is a thing used on infants; and Mello is a man. Has been since before he could purchase a single pint. He outright laughs in response; does this devil think he's so simple?]

And why would I look for you.

[Bitter. Because you are not you. Just an effigy.]

Who knows. I'm not saying your belief manifests reality, moreso that regardless of the reality, you'll probably carry on with your own interpretation anyways! I know I certainly am.

But if it is a dream, I haven't been able to wake myself up, yet. And it's unusually long feeling. Mundane, too in tune with the weakening state of my body, lots of static and stillness. That's why I think if it is a dream, it's not the kind you can simply wake yourself up from. The kind that lasts for a long time, and only ends if you survive from where you sleep.

[Near tilts his head, then a slow smile spreads across his face. Whether this is more or less creepy than normal given his red eyes, lack of eyelids, and scale-covered skin is a matter of opinion.]

Ah... you think I'm an image or a doppleganger pulled from your memory.

[A black forked tongue darts out of his mouth a couple times in his amusement.]

Please continue to explain your train of thought.

I don't pretend to understand why.

[That's for you to figure out, once you understand that this is all real.]

Just don't, and we'll both be better for it.

[There's a very real possibility that, after nearly 2 years here, Mello wouldn't even recognize him.]

[ Another stranger; Light has no reason to assume Mello will ever hold significance in his life. If anything, he approves of the skepticism. Questioning such an odd world is the only logical reaction. ]

If you won't believe our word, then look at it through logic: as weird as this world is, it could be worse. Being a witch comes with a lot of strengths. In a world where Hell exists, it's more likely to strip you of power, not give it to you.

[ The voice is younger, but Mello may very well recognize it as the one belonging to one Light Yagami, a man responsible for his death even if he didn't write the name directly.

If there's doubt, Light isn't too secretive with his username considering it's one means of which he means to establish himself. ]

[ Alex frowns, seriously contemplating if he was just messing with her. ]

Yes you did. You were a bartender that overcharged. You’re picky about everything; food, where you live, what you wear. You never give a straight answer but you’re pushy about what you want to know. And you try to dump your work onto other people. You’re stubborn about getting help and even more stubborn about accepting it.

[ Wasn’t she just venting about him now? Though her hurt did start to shift to being upset. ]

But I didn’t hate your confidence.

[ Sometimes it felt like it would rub off on her. ]

And when you weren’t teasing, you were nice.

[ -ish. ]

[Does this thing really think Mello is going to play its game?]

[The light chuckle that comes from the back of his throat is more wry than genuine. Something in this hurts, but that's what it wants, isn't it? Besides, Mello doesn't believe in pain beyond the physical. Never has. He swears by it, after everything.]

If you know me so well — [Bitter.] — why do you think I believe you are who you pretend to be? I'm not fucking stupid, you know.

[It knows. So what is it doing?]

[Nice. No. That's where this posture of a girl destroys her argument. Mello has never been nice. Not so far as he can remember. The huff is audible, the annoyance is tangible. What the hell does this thing want, anyway? Hell already has his soul; the earth already has his body.]

Clever.

[But.]

But you're not proving anything. I'm speaking to others, and most of them 'know' me. [His tone is low. Annoyed.]

They say I'm a Witch. I've never dabbled in anything like that.

[Though the supernatural does exist. Shinigami. The notebook.]

You want me to believe you're useful and not just another form of the same thing? Tell me what that means.

[Antagonistic thing that he is.]

Edited 2021-03-01 23:48 (UTC)

So you really don’t remember...

[ This was starting to feel hopeless. If he really did forget, getting him to believe her would be a challenge with how distrustful he was. What else did Alex have to offer other than her memories with him?

She perks up when something does come to mind. ]

I have texts that you sent me.

Edited 2021-03-01 23:56 (UTC)

[Impatiently]

I've already told you that I'm not who you think I am. I don't mean you harm, and I don't mean to deceive or mislead you.

I just don't want you to look for me. Take it at face value; it should be a simple matter.

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