[He's avoided it as long as possible; something about marring his skin more than it's already been damaged doesn't sit right with Mello. Easy options were on the table: a simple dot below his right ear, something undetectable that would serve its purpose.]
[But he's never been one to back down from anything, has he? Within a few months he's found his place in a world where so many still wander without alliances or resources; and if that's not something to wear like a badge of honor, what is?]
[Greed might notice that Mello's steps aren't the quiet, swift sounds they were only a few weeks prior. The Gods have gone and taken his grace away and replaced it with a humanity that, at this point in time, Mello is convinced he's won unconditionally. But it's with the same chin-lifted overconfidence that he takes the steps two at a time; pads of his fingers running along a railing as he ascends.]
[There are at least a hundred humans with a steady enough hand to do this; a drop of Greed's blood to mix in with the ink is all it takes, but the idea of anyone else having access to Mello for as long as it might take is preposterous. Hell, he might not even let L do it, at this point.]
[He thinks the Sin should be honored, and it shows with a sardonic lift to his lips when he enters unannounced — he was invited after all — too human and vulnerable to be surrounded by such power. Full bottle of dark liquor in one hand — some cognac he swiped from one of the local bars — and paper with his design tucked into his pocket, he's already twisting the cap when he speaks.]
acción
[But he's never been one to back down from anything, has he? Within a few months he's found his place in a world where so many still wander without alliances or resources; and if that's not something to wear like a badge of honor, what is?]
[Greed might notice that Mello's steps aren't the quiet, swift sounds they were only a few weeks prior. The Gods have gone and taken his grace away and replaced it with a humanity that, at this point in time, Mello is convinced he's won unconditionally. But it's with the same chin-lifted overconfidence that he takes the steps two at a time; pads of his fingers running along a railing as he ascends.]
[There are at least a hundred humans with a steady enough hand to do this; a drop of Greed's blood to mix in with the ink is all it takes, but the idea of anyone else having access to Mello for as long as it might take is preposterous. Hell, he might not even let L do it, at this point.]
[He thinks the Sin should be honored, and it shows with a sardonic lift to his lips when he enters unannounced — he was invited after all — too human and vulnerable to be surrounded by such power. Full bottle of dark liquor in one hand — some cognac he swiped from one of the local bars — and paper with his design tucked into his pocket, he's already twisting the cap when he speaks.]
Where do you want me?
[Airy, mock-distracted.]