Mihael "Mello" Keehl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
planmade) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-02-06 07:55 pm
planmade) wrote in driftfleet2016-02-06 07:55 pm
001 ♱ arrival (video)
Who: Mihael "Mello" Keehl & open.
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Marsiva. Hospitality deck.
When: Current.
[Mihael's eyes blink open slowly, then immediately sharpen. He sits up with a jerk, barely keeping himself from looking visibly panicked, from bringing a hand to his chest to feel for a heartbeat. In that split second after waking his mind is flooded with several thoughts at once, the foremost being that he's alive, which doesn't make sense given what he knows about the Death Note and what he's sure he felt only moments before. If he's alive then there's a good chance that Kira is involved, and that wherever he is would be monitored by the enemy.
But then, this also doesn't seem like Kira's style. The self-proclaimed god of the new world just killed people that were in his way, often even when keeping them alive might have served his purposes better. This means that something has to have gotten in the way of that - an unwritten rule, perhaps, or another shinigami. He'd always been ahead of them when it came to how the books truly worked.
There's a chill, but it's not in the air. He feels it deep in his bones, and he laments the loss of his coat. He hadn't been wearing it when he'd "died", and a glance around lets him know that it at least isn't in the room with him. His vest doesn't do much against the cold, though if it's coming from within an extra layer over his skin might not do much anyway. Is this normal? Part of the process of foiling the note? Having this big of an information gap is infuriating. He doesn't have his gun either, but that's the least surprising revelation so far.
He sits up, sliding to the edge of the cot. The room is completely unfamiliar and sterile. If someone is monitoring him, then they'll expect him to check the door. Might as well not keep them waiting. He's not even sure he should be surprised when it opens. Even if it's some sort of trap, whatever's out here has to be able to tell him more than what's in that little room. The attempt on his life has already been made, and it would be a waste of resources to go through all this trouble just to try and kill him again right away.
Leaving the door ajar for a few moments more, he does a final check of the room to make sure he isn't leaving anything behind. He pats himself down, too, as new additions to his person were very possible in this situation. The bump behind his ear gets a deep frown out of him, and messing with it proves to be too uncomfortable. A bug, perhaps. A tracking device. Both. He'll have to watch what he says.
In his pocket is... not his cell phone. Something else. When he flips it open he's met with an unfamiliar interface - unfamiliar, but not difficult. This is something. It's a step toward figuring out what's going on, and he's thumbing through entries as he finally leaves the room.
Some time later, he finally addresses the network himself.]
Disregard any messages from another I.D. of someone with my name and face.
And you. You'll talk to me.
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: Marsiva. Hospitality deck.
When: Current.
[Mihael's eyes blink open slowly, then immediately sharpen. He sits up with a jerk, barely keeping himself from looking visibly panicked, from bringing a hand to his chest to feel for a heartbeat. In that split second after waking his mind is flooded with several thoughts at once, the foremost being that he's alive, which doesn't make sense given what he knows about the Death Note and what he's sure he felt only moments before. If he's alive then there's a good chance that Kira is involved, and that wherever he is would be monitored by the enemy.
But then, this also doesn't seem like Kira's style. The self-proclaimed god of the new world just killed people that were in his way, often even when keeping them alive might have served his purposes better. This means that something has to have gotten in the way of that - an unwritten rule, perhaps, or another shinigami. He'd always been ahead of them when it came to how the books truly worked.
There's a chill, but it's not in the air. He feels it deep in his bones, and he laments the loss of his coat. He hadn't been wearing it when he'd "died", and a glance around lets him know that it at least isn't in the room with him. His vest doesn't do much against the cold, though if it's coming from within an extra layer over his skin might not do much anyway. Is this normal? Part of the process of foiling the note? Having this big of an information gap is infuriating. He doesn't have his gun either, but that's the least surprising revelation so far.
He sits up, sliding to the edge of the cot. The room is completely unfamiliar and sterile. If someone is monitoring him, then they'll expect him to check the door. Might as well not keep them waiting. He's not even sure he should be surprised when it opens. Even if it's some sort of trap, whatever's out here has to be able to tell him more than what's in that little room. The attempt on his life has already been made, and it would be a waste of resources to go through all this trouble just to try and kill him again right away.
Leaving the door ajar for a few moments more, he does a final check of the room to make sure he isn't leaving anything behind. He pats himself down, too, as new additions to his person were very possible in this situation. The bump behind his ear gets a deep frown out of him, and messing with it proves to be too uncomfortable. A bug, perhaps. A tracking device. Both. He'll have to watch what he says.
In his pocket is... not his cell phone. Something else. When he flips it open he's met with an unfamiliar interface - unfamiliar, but not difficult. This is something. It's a step toward figuring out what's going on, and he's thumbing through entries as he finally leaves the room.
Some time later, he finally addresses the network himself.]
Disregard any messages from another I.D. of someone with my name and face.
And you. You'll talk to me.
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[Equally so.]
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All right, I'll bite. How exactly is my existence redundant?
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This world, any world, doesn't need two of me. One is enough.
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[Micah may not be sure of much about this situation, but that's one thing he can say he knows for certain.]
Let me guess - you go by Mello, right?
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He doesn't answer the question, instead leaning closer to the camera.]
I think we should talk in person.
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[Just, you know. Killing time on a spaceship.]
I'm in the gym.
-> action
He has to find the gym first, but that doesn't take too much searching. There's only so many things to be found on the hospitality deck, and directions are easy to get.
As he goes, he prepares himself for the encounter. He has to come on strong. So when his look-a-like finally comes into view, he doesn't stop until he's right up in the other blond's personal space.
Prepare to be thoroughly examined.]
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Micah is 23, and the scar that covers the left side of his face is a little better healed because he received proper medical attention for the injury, but his physical appearance is otherwise mostly the same. He wears black clothing, but not leather; he keeps a rosary tucked away in his pocket instead of hung around his neck.
He's silent for a tense moment as he's studied, giving the other man a less intense looking over in exchange. Micah doesn't back down from the examination, but it's still less than comfortable, so he leans on his particular brand of humor to ease some of the pressure in the lack of space between them.]
See anything you like, or are you just browsing?
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Mihael doesn't like it. He'd rather be able to discredit the other blond as a complete fake. Now he has to acknowledge the fact that he exists alongside someone who might as well be a clone.
He steps back, shifting into a more casual stance with his hands in his pockets.]
I want to know what you're supposed to be.
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[Micah folds his arms across his chest; his head cocks slightly to one side.]
Sagittarius, I think, though I don't really go in for all that predestination bullshit.
[He's more the type to believe in his own agency to affect change, to take his destiny in his own hands and mold it into the shape he wants to see.]
Your turn.
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Do I look like I want to play games with you?
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[Which is, admittedly, only a few flashes, and some truly awful moments at that. Hardly enough to give Micah a well-rounded picture of his Other.]
You didn't answer me, by the way. Do you go by Mello or not?
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But if he doesn't acknowledge being the same person, he might not be able to squeeze out the same amount of information. And he wants to know what this guy knows.]
... Yeah. I go by Mello.
[Mello imitates his doppleganger's posture.]
So what do you know about me?
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What I know is ... I don't know for sure if you're the same guy. I mean, it shouldn't be possible - what is this, anyway? Time travel? Alternate dimensions? It sounds more and more like some dumb sci-fi movie, and coming from someone who comes from a world that's rebuilding after an alien invasion wrecked a lot of places, I'd say my barometer for ridiculous bullshit like that goes pretty high.
[He chews at his bottom lip for a moment, then continues.]
So I don't know for sure if all this is the same for you, but I can guess. And you can tell me if it's right or not. Like - I can guess if I talk about the Numbered, you won't know what that means, because it hasn't happened for you yet. I can guess that you grew up in an orphanage called Wammy's House, and I can guess you had some really fucked-up competition with a kid called Near over which one of you was gonna take over for a superdetective called L when he died, which he did. I can guess that you were involved in trying to take down someone known as Kira, and it had something to do with something called a Death Note.
[He can guess he knows how the other man will die, too, but Micah keeps that to himself for the moment.]
How am I doing so far?
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All he seems to have so far is what little he's gathered from some of the others who've been there longer, if that. He'll cling to what little a foothold he has.]
Alternate realities is what I've been hearing a lot of lately. [His voice is more resigned than anything as he carefully keeps his anger in check.] Several others here were in places where that was the norm even before they arrived - like they'd been pulled from their original world to that place, and from that place to here. [One kid had even been through two.]
But that information you have - it's correct. Where'd you get it from?
forgot the cw, fire + scarring
If you want to get technical, I got it from you.
[He leans back against the treadmill's handrail, fingers interlaced over his stomach.]
That's what I'm talking about when I refer to the Numbered. They're people who are reincarnations of other people - I know, [he interjects quickly, rolling his eyes,] it sounds stupid. I didn't really believe it was for real until I found out I was one of them. We get memories, sometimes, of these other people's lives. Sometimes more than memories - I took a trip on the transporter to New Zealand and ended up with an entire language I've never studied crammed into my head - Japanese. Eight months ago, my unit responded to a warehouse fire, and I ended up with a memory of a guy blowing himself up, along with this. [He points to the left side of his face to indicate the scar left there by the Echo.] Inside my suit.
[He frowns, recounting all this. It wasn't a pleasant experience, and while he's accepted the reality of what happened and made certain decisions because of it, that doesn't mean he liked how it turned out.]
So there you go. Some of it's from Mello's memories, and some of it's from talking with Nathan and Lazarus - you'd probably recognize them better as Near and L. That's who their Others were, and they've both been Numbered for a lot longer than me. We talked when I met up with them, and a lot of what they told me ended up triggering more pulses for me - more memories.
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[Apparently of the sort that can regain memories from their previous life, though how they can also gain physical scarring he's not sure. There's far too much supernatural bullshit surrounding him all of a sudden.
He stares at the other man, incredulous. Some of this feels like a little too much to be asked to accept. This is wrong. (Lazarus? Really?)
Perhaps the worst part of it is how absolutely normal this apparent reincarnation seems in comparison. He can't say he regrets the life he's lived. He does have regrets, sure, but overall he's been proud to be one of L's successors, whether he was chosen as the official one or not. There hadn't ever been times when he'd wished to be in a normal school with normal friends - not since he'd been a very young child, anyway. But even so... he isn't sure how to feel now. It puts him off guard, and he doesn't like that.]
... Sucks to be you.
[Sorry?]
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[The idea of reincarnation flies in the face of everything Micah ever thought he knew about himself, about his world, about the God he's chosen to follow. He's had months to adjust to the idea of it, and it's still a struggle a lot of the time - even more so now, here, faced with the man he's supposed to be a reincarnation of in the flesh. Micah knows exactly how wrong this is.
But pride too is something he knows well - of choosing the life he has, of surviving against the odds, of facing a challenge and overcoming. That's what this is, to Micah - another challenge to face and overcome.]
I used to think that a lot, when I was a kid - that my life sucked beyond the telling of it. I was angry at everyone for this shitty hand I got dealt. Then I met this guy, Father Kelly, and he really set me straight. He used to tell me, "Every obstacle is an opportunity in disguise."
[The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile, and his shoulders relax a little as he remembers this life-changing thing he was told the first time he met the man who would later become his mentor in life.]
It sounds like the kind of thing you'd see on one of those dumb inspirational posters, with a dopey-looking kitten and some fluffy clouds or something. But for a fucked up, angry kid who never had anyone believe in him before, it was a pretty revolutionary thing to hear.
[He shrugs.]
So you get dealt a bad hand. What you choose to do with it is what's important.
[It's OK, maybe. Or I don't blame you.]
Lazarus told me, the first time I met him, that a lot of the Numbered try to live by a rule - learn what you can from your Others, but remember that we're not them, and our fates aren't carved in stone. I'm not gonna pretend like I know everything about you, because I don't - I've only got a few pieces, and a lot of it doesn't really make sense to me.
[Like why Mello chose to sacrifice himself to provide a vital clue for Near to follow, when there was so much animosity between them.]
Who knows. Maybe that's why we're here. Maybe I've got something to learn from you. Maybe you've got something to learn from me, too.
[Micah shifts his weight forward, stands up straight again with his hand outstretched to shake.]
Anyway, I'm Micah.
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[Why this.
He'd thought that he'd been brought to some nexus of realities, going by what he'd heard from others who'd been here longer, but the more he listens to this man who's like him in face only he begins to believe he might have been sent directly to Hell. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200.
To be told of his mirror image's apparent religious experience of all things tarnishes the whole conversation with a sheen of disgust. Whatever interest he might have been showing flattens into an unimpressed deadpan. And what's worse is that he keeps going on.
Micah's tone is laced with sympathy and forgiveness, with a cruel naivete reserved for old Saturday morning cartoon shows. It would have been far easier on Mello if he'd been angry. He can deal with anger.
When the hand is outstretched, he doesn't take it. He stares at it as though he can wish it ablaze.]
You may be my reincarnation, if that's how this place is going to work, but that's the only reason I'm going to give you the time of day.
[He holds up a single index finger.] I'm warning you one time not to try and throw any touchy-feely bullshit at me. That's it. I'm not looking to be your friend.
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Handshakes qualify as touchy-feely bullshit where you're from? All right.
[He's heard worse from kids he's worked with on the wrecked streets of New LA. At least this guy isn't pulling a gun on him, like he's seen happen in Echoes.]
No touchy-feely bullshit from me, and you don't swear Jesus at me again. Deal?
[He leans back against the handrail again, arms folded over his chest.]
I'm not saying you have to see me as a friend. I get that - the need to be self-reliant, stand on your own feet, be your own man. [He nods; that's been his way for most of his life.] What I am saying is that under these pretty unusual circumstances, you might find that having an ally in your corner isn't the worst idea, and I think we can both see I'm in a unique position to be that. [He shrugs.] But that's entirely up to you. I've got nothing against you, and I'm not in the habit of making enemies anyway, but that's me.
[They're different people, and Micah is fully aware of that, in other words.]
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To be fair, the only reason Mello hasn't pulled a gun on his reincarnation is because he doesn't yet have one.
He's heard enough of this sanctimonious crap. Having someone who shares his face ask him not to take the Lord's name in vain is beyond anything he'd thought he'd see in this life or the next, but worse than that is the preaching. Dear god, he's still going on.
But the hardest part, and what he'll never admit, is that there's a very small part of him that's glad for his double - that he's found a different purpose in life and seems genuinely more at ease with it. In a way, that's better than having a reincarnation follow him up who's exactly the same in every way. These thoughts are buried under a torrent of confused frustration.]
Just shut up. Look.
[Mello sighs, running a hand through raggedy blond hair.]
You want in my good graces? You seem to know a little about me so maybe you'll figure it out. In the meanwhile, I'm going to need some space from you.
You make my stomach turn.
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Micah might have been angry, once, hearing the sorts of things Mello says to him now, has said from the start. When he was younger, he would have railed against being told to shut up, but not now. Micah doesn't know everything - he doesn't know much - but he knows enough what it felt like to be Mello. So it doesn't upset him.
And he's been clear about communicating boundaries. Micah can certainly respect that.]
Sounds like the kind of thing Freud would have a field day with.
[He half-smiles at the other man.]
I guess it's good for both of us that he isn't here, huh.
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[At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if the man did show up. Time travel is easier to take in than an other-dimensional or reincarnated variant of himself. He wouldn't have to look at Freud and see a self that could have been.
Though he would have to take a moment to ask the guy of he'd ever met a shinigami. That might put some rumors to rest.
If Mello has any empathy for his double it's worn thin by the way the other blond looks at him. He's seen as the one needing help, and he can feel it. Some people needed to understand that the right path for them might not be the right path for someone else. It's not salvation Mello seeks, and it never has been.]
Tell me what ship you get placed on, and any other useful information you might learn.
[And for fuck's sake, send some chocolate his way.]
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You realize what a contradiction that is, right? Saying you want space but demanding information.
[Not that he'll refuse either request - it's just interesting. Micah had a general idea that Mello had a strong personality, but the details being fleshed out by direct conversation with him have only sparked his curiosity more than before.]
Yeah, all right. I'll be in touch if I find anything out.
[It's not that Micah is desperate for Mello's approval; he just doesn't see the point in refusing. And he does mean what he said about being an ally.]
Let me ask you something - you really tell people to call you Mello? I know Lazarus said real names were a big important secret for all of you at the House, but I gotta say, I'm curious how you came up with that.
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