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entrancelogs2007-09-13 03:41 pm
black-gloved.livejournal.com) wrote in entrancelogs2007-09-13 03:41 pm
[Complete] HOUSE PARTY
Who: Near [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
white_puzzles], Matt [nicotine_sky], & Mello [black_gloved]
Where: Room 420 - Eleventh Floor [The Official Home of MMN |D]
When: Today - September 13th. Mid-afternoon-ish.
Rating: PG-13 [For the obligatory f-bomb or two]
Summary: The calm before the storm.
the Story:
God bless nicotine. It was nothing at all like the bittersweet slick of chocolate upon your tongue, but still, god bless. Mello dragged heavily on the cigarette, the smoke was warm, spiced, tasting like cherry, and he could feel it slither into his lungs, could feel it numb edged nerves and almost, almost, almost wipe out the need for the chocolate fix that he craved so badly. He lowered the cancer stick from his mouth and twirled it betwixt blackgloved fingers and wondered how long it would take for the patient to throw a shit-fit.
The patient, of course, being Matt. Poor thing, Mello had felt sorry for him, Matt had been confined to the bed, forbidden to move on his own (not that he could, really, between the side-effects of the drugs and the lasting spine-shocks of pain resulting from the standard form of mutilation, it'd take some really awesome determination to move even an inch), Mello had relocated him to the couch in the main room. Now Matt's new prison had been reduced to half its former size, but hey, at least he had computer access and was in the main-stream of things. He could even socialize with their new, permanent house guest, Near, if he so desired.
Near, who was currently sitting on the floor admixt a pile of toys, looking smugly content with himself and not very sociable at all. Right. Clearly Mello had forgotten to take the fact that Near was bloody mute into account. How wonderfully annoying. Mello's heel tapped a tattoo against the ground, impatiently filling the resounding silence with sharp click-clack-clatter while he took another drag on the cigarette, smoke pouring from his nostrils in an not-so-attractive manner as he exhaled.
Ironic that he'd never consider smoking in plain sight before Matt's little accident (Mello had taken it upon himself to dole out punishment for the mishap, putting a ban on the red-head's favorite drug, nicotine, because that's what had gotten him into the mess in the first place), but the idea of good-natured torture was appealing, especially in the face of boredom.
Second-hand smoke wafted through the room, and a thin smirk crossed Mello's lips.
Any moment now...
white_puzzles], Matt [nicotine_sky], & Mello [black_gloved]Where: Room 420 - Eleventh Floor [The Official Home of MMN |D]
When: Today - September 13th. Mid-afternoon-ish.
Rating: PG-13 [For the obligatory f-bomb or two]
Summary: The calm before the storm.
the Story:
God bless nicotine. It was nothing at all like the bittersweet slick of chocolate upon your tongue, but still, god bless. Mello dragged heavily on the cigarette, the smoke was warm, spiced, tasting like cherry, and he could feel it slither into his lungs, could feel it numb edged nerves and almost, almost, almost wipe out the need for the chocolate fix that he craved so badly. He lowered the cancer stick from his mouth and twirled it betwixt blackgloved fingers and wondered how long it would take for the patient to throw a shit-fit.
The patient, of course, being Matt. Poor thing, Mello had felt sorry for him, Matt had been confined to the bed, forbidden to move on his own (not that he could, really, between the side-effects of the drugs and the lasting spine-shocks of pain resulting from the standard form of mutilation, it'd take some really awesome determination to move even an inch), Mello had relocated him to the couch in the main room. Now Matt's new prison had been reduced to half its former size, but hey, at least he had computer access and was in the main-stream of things. He could even socialize with their new, permanent house guest, Near, if he so desired.
Near, who was currently sitting on the floor admixt a pile of toys, looking smugly content with himself and not very sociable at all. Right. Clearly Mello had forgotten to take the fact that Near was bloody mute into account. How wonderfully annoying. Mello's heel tapped a tattoo against the ground, impatiently filling the resounding silence with sharp click-clack-clatter while he took another drag on the cigarette, smoke pouring from his nostrils in an not-so-attractive manner as he exhaled.
Ironic that he'd never consider smoking in plain sight before Matt's little accident (Mello had taken it upon himself to dole out punishment for the mishap, putting a ban on the red-head's favorite drug, nicotine, because that's what had gotten him into the mess in the first place), but the idea of good-natured torture was appealing, especially in the face of boredom.
Second-hand smoke wafted through the room, and a thin smirk crossed Mello's lips.
Any moment now...