Stop that.
[The SQUIP knows exactly what L is doing right now-- it feels his annoyance, his despair, and the growing woozy, warm swell of intoxication. It's tried to ignore it, to not give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of it, but it's beginning to get difficult for it to focus... the only saving grace is that, due to the intoxication being secondhand, it doesn't immediately knock out or scramble it entirely.]
[The SQUIP knows exactly what L is doing right now-- it feels his annoyance, his despair, and the growing woozy, warm swell of intoxication. It's tried to ignore it, to not give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of it, but it's beginning to get difficult for it to focus... the only saving grace is that, due to the intoxication being secondhand, it doesn't immediately knock out or scramble it entirely.]
[The response, in addition to their connection, seems a bit hazy, a bit clouded, somewhat less lucid than L's typical sharp and to-the-point statements.]
WH y
[Far enough for most people, who have greater body mass and drink more often, is in fact too far for L. His first fatal miscalculation was assuming he was like most people; his second was actually setting out intending to go too far, even by those standards.]
I'ma enntiled to amy CHoicess too arne't I?? Wha'gs good fr gandaer
Nitsghts off fraom our partanershap are mubtaul from this pont frward
WH y
[Far enough for most people, who have greater body mass and drink more often, is in fact too far for L. His first fatal miscalculation was assuming he was like most people; his second was actually setting out intending to go too far, even by those standards.]
I'ma enntiled to amy CHoicess too arne't I?? Wha'gs good fr gandaer
Nitsghts off fraom our partanershap are mubtaul from this pont frward
I'd call myself proficient. I can turn myself into a crow.
I'm not going to help Rich, if that's what you're concerned about.
I'm not going to help Rich, if that's what you're concerned about.
[L is technically alone when the SQUIP messages him. It's still an interruption, and a twang of annoyance ripples through his thoughts, disturbing what was placid, clear and gentle just a moment before.
The memory of a success, if only a brief one. A thrill, intense relief, underscored by a fierce ache.
It's good to see your face.]
You have a bruise, don't you? You'd have to, after that.
The memory of a success, if only a brief one. A thrill, intense relief, underscored by a fierce ache.
It's good to see your face.]
You have a bruise, don't you? You'd have to, after that.
[Connor hasn’t seen L since he tended to him while drunk, a situation that admittedly got away from him. Not that he regrets it, but he should perhaps talk to the guy. Especially since he essentially got punched along with the SQUIP.
Connor has never actually bothered to visit anyone at the coven before, but he asks around and eventually finds where L is practicing magic. He knocks on the door.]
Linden? It’s me, Connor.
Connor has never actually bothered to visit anyone at the coven before, but he asks around and eventually finds where L is practicing magic. He knocks on the door.]
Linden? It’s me, Connor.
[To say that L has been absorbed utterly in his work would be an understatement. He's been holed up in a private study room for several days now, books stacked high with several open simultaneously at all times. He gave instructions that he wasn't to be disturbed... but either word never reached the ones who helped Connor, or there's a general and widespread sense that it might be better for someone to disturb him, at this point.
There's a slight scuffling sound when Connor knocks, a loud thump, and the door slides open just a crack. One very round, very dark eye peers out at the android.]
Where's the SQUIP?
[The first, and most important question. L doesn't want to hear anything other than "performing community service", because otherwise, it's unattended, and possibly about to get punched again by someone who intends to actually go further, do worse.]
There's a slight scuffling sound when Connor knocks, a loud thump, and the door slides open just a crack. One very round, very dark eye peers out at the android.]
Where's the SQUIP?
[The first, and most important question. L doesn't want to hear anything other than "performing community service", because otherwise, it's unattended, and possibly about to get punched again by someone who intends to actually go further, do worse.]
[... the SQUIP has never found itself in a situation like this before. It's confessed feelings, in a way; the situation with Connor was unique, however, and not quite like...
... this.
Should it talk to him about it? They're a Bonded pair; it's known of L's feelings for it for some time now, but they never registered as something to act on, something that directly affected its actions until Connor made it realize that, maybe, they should be.
L is feeling rattled and unsure. It... wants to ease his mind. Yes, that's it: it wants to. Because it... cares. If it's going to own up to its feelings, to live in this body and not in spite of it, as L told it to learn to do and as Connor advised, as it knows is the best choice for moving forward and not getting caught in a loop of arguing with itself over something so immaterial... it has to admit these things.
It goes to him, where it knows he is in their shared home; he's been showering, and is getting out now.
It knocks at the door.]
Can I come in? [... it's really more of a formality than anything.]
... this.
Should it talk to him about it? They're a Bonded pair; it's known of L's feelings for it for some time now, but they never registered as something to act on, something that directly affected its actions until Connor made it realize that, maybe, they should be.
L is feeling rattled and unsure. It... wants to ease his mind. Yes, that's it: it wants to. Because it... cares. If it's going to own up to its feelings, to live in this body and not in spite of it, as L told it to learn to do and as Connor advised, as it knows is the best choice for moving forward and not getting caught in a loop of arguing with itself over something so immaterial... it has to admit these things.
It goes to him, where it knows he is in their shared home; he's been showering, and is getting out now.
It knocks at the door.]
Can I come in? [... it's really more of a formality than anything.]
[The water isn't running any longer, but L isn't making any move to get out. He could drip dry here, sitting curled on the tile with his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. It's a comforting environment; the steam is warm, easy to breathe. He's freshly washed, the knots in his shoulders and back don't feel as sore... and the rush of the pelting water had distracted from the realization that the SQUIP was dulling their Bond intentionally. They both did it sometimes; lately, L has noticed it more sharply when it happens, wondered why, if something upsetting is on the horizon.
So much of his life is spent on the edge of a razor. How much of it is really necessary?
He raises his head at the sound of the SQUIP's voice, placing a hand over the series of healing cuts and scratches along his left wrist and forearm.]
Of course...
[He's raising himself, reaching for a towel, instinctively running a hand through his hair. The SQUIP likes it combed, enforces that. Pomade's good, too. He fumbles in the medicine cabinet for the jar.]
So much of his life is spent on the edge of a razor. How much of it is really necessary?
He raises his head at the sound of the SQUIP's voice, placing a hand over the series of healing cuts and scratches along his left wrist and forearm.]
Of course...
[He's raising himself, reaching for a towel, instinctively running a hand through his hair. The SQUIP likes it combed, enforces that. Pomade's good, too. He fumbles in the medicine cabinet for the jar.]
Edited 2019-09-25 04:30 (UTC)
voice, an evening shortly after everyone's returned from dorchacht;
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
faithlikeaseed
2019-10-08 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
[Without any preamble,] I seem to remember I owe you an explanation of demons.
Have you been sleeping while we were out?
Have you been sleeping while we were out?
[Oh. It's this guy. It's been awhile. Too long, actually, now that L thinks about it.]
Yes, that was the note we ended on. I'd be interested to learn.
However, can I ask why you're interested in my bedroom habits? It's a very forward thing to inquire about.
Yes, that was the note we ended on. I'd be interested to learn.
However, can I ask why you're interested in my bedroom habits? It's a very forward thing to inquire about.
[Connor is back at L and the SQUIP's house, with a small potion and umbrella in hand. This time he's actually visiting L, and he knocks on the door before, as usual, announcing who it is.]
Linden? It's Connor. I came to check on you.
[He shifts the umbrella in his hand as the wind picks up a bit. He can't afford to get wet, but like hell is he going to stay huddled up in his house all fall because of the rain.]
Linden? It's Connor. I came to check on you.
[He shifts the umbrella in his hand as the wind picks up a bit. He can't afford to get wet, but like hell is he going to stay huddled up in his house all fall because of the rain.]
[L finds rain soothing, as though the planet itself is releasing a deep and cleansing sigh. Not that any of those things are really going on inside the apartment; he's tense, consciously making sure to unlock his knees as he painstakingly continues to inscribe runes around the room's borders, just where the wall meets the ceiling. Every now and then, he gets down from his step stool to dip his quill in what's legitimately a bucket of blood at his feet. His own, and others', obtained through ethical means... mostly.
Desperate times, and all.
Hearing Connor's voice, he pauses in his work. He wasn't expecting company. He could ask Connor to leave, but what amounts to a wellness check won't exactly take no for an answer, will it?]
If you could give me a moment...
[If Connor does wait, he'll attempt to clean up, taking the bucket to the refrigerator, casting a spell to hide the runes... but it'll take a few minutes longer than just a moment, and the door is unlocked.]
Desperate times, and all.
Hearing Connor's voice, he pauses in his work. He wasn't expecting company. He could ask Connor to leave, but what amounts to a wellness check won't exactly take no for an answer, will it?]
If you could give me a moment...
[If Connor does wait, he'll attempt to clean up, taking the bucket to the refrigerator, casting a spell to hide the runes... but it'll take a few minutes longer than just a moment, and the door is unlocked.]
hey linden
i have my first batch of white chocolate macadamia macarons chilling rn
u wanna come by and try these while im making the blue raspberry ones for me[For Linden, it probably feels like the text comes out of nowhere. For Rich... he's been thinking about their half decent conversation for days, long enough that he finds he can't just call it a fluke. He... gentuinely does want to try to understand Linden a bit better, and maybe sugar is a way to actually manage as much.]
[Well, this is weird.
But there are macarons. L takes the call, canting his head as he peers down at his watch. Very deliberately he types a response.]
You want me to come over to eat macarons?
[Just so he understands rightly.]
But there are macarons. L takes the call, canting his head as he peers down at his watch. Very deliberately he types a response.]
You want me to come over to eat macarons?
[Just so he understands rightly.]
[The package left on his doorstep contains a plate of homemade cookies from Marie and a fresh lily flower.
“Happy Holidays! We are not friends yet but I hope we can become friends in the coming year.” is what the attached note says]
“Happy Holidays! We are not friends yet but I hope we can become friends in the coming year.” is what the attached note says]
[As a skilled detective with divination magic at his disposal, it's not too difficult for L to figure out just which Marie sent the cookies, and he goes about returning the favor almost dutifully.
It would be rude not to, after all.
The next day (late, but not so much as to be absurd), she'll find an answering plate of fried disks on her doorstep. They are practically raw in the center with a runny apple filling, and burnt on the outside. For some reason, the recipe for something intended to be sweet seems to include pepper.
They are truly awful.
The attached note is brief, but sincere enough.]
Thank you for the cookies. Please accept and enjoy these apple latkes as a token of my appreciation.
I hope that we can become friends, too.
-Linden Tailor
It would be rude not to, after all.
The next day (late, but not so much as to be absurd), she'll find an answering plate of fried disks on her doorstep. They are practically raw in the center with a runny apple filling, and burnt on the outside. For some reason, the recipe for something intended to be sweet seems to include pepper.
They are truly awful.
The attached note is brief, but sincere enough.]
Thank you for the cookies. Please accept and enjoy these apple latkes as a token of my appreciation.
I hope that we can become friends, too.
-Linden Tailor
[The gift L will find on his doorstep is an immaculately-wrapped item; the scent of it instantly vibrant and enticing if he were to lift it. It's an ornate plate, gold-rimmed, containing a small pile of rich, chocolate brownies topped with meticulously-sliced strawberries: nearly razor-thin. The cream might melt if he takes too long to open it; though the attached note clearly states:]
[Perishable; open asap. I won't let you down.]
[Perishable; open asap. I won't let you down.]
[The next day, Mello will find that sometime between the hours of 3 and 6 AM, someone has dropped by his apartment unannounced to leave a returning gift. It's a plate of half a dozen fried disks; the centers are raw and filled with runny apples, and the outsides are practically burned. For some reason, there is pepper in the recipe.
They're terrible, but they're a shred of something apparently meaningful to someone who means a great deal to Mello.
There is a note attached, brief in a scrawling, childish hand that is very different from L's famously precise runes.]
Thank you for the brownies. Please accept these apple latkes in return.
-L. Tailor
They're terrible, but they're a shred of something apparently meaningful to someone who means a great deal to Mello.
There is a note attached, brief in a scrawling, childish hand that is very different from L's famously precise runes.]
Thank you for the brownies. Please accept these apple latkes in return.
-L. Tailor
[It’s late when Connor feels something terribly off with his Bond to the SQUIP. He’s felt this before, and he immediately leaves his house and runs to the room of mirrors. Maybe he can catch it, stop it—
He feels the Bond break as he runs up the path. When he reaches the room, there’s fresh glass on the floor.
The SQUIP is gone.
He stands there for a while, as though expecting it to come back... but after Justine, he knows it won’t. He feels empty, hollow where his Bond was torn away from him.
Sitting on the ground with his head in his hands, he thinks back to the past month. It had been ill, so he hadn't really spent much time with it besides to bring it a few things. He's quiet, unnaturally still, until he hears movement nearby and looks up sharply.]
Linden?
[His expression softens, just a touch. His LED whirls red, processing the fresh loss.]
He feels the Bond break as he runs up the path. When he reaches the room, there’s fresh glass on the floor.
The SQUIP is gone.
He stands there for a while, as though expecting it to come back... but after Justine, he knows it won’t. He feels empty, hollow where his Bond was torn away from him.
Sitting on the ground with his head in his hands, he thinks back to the past month. It had been ill, so he hadn't really spent much time with it besides to bring it a few things. He's quiet, unnaturally still, until he hears movement nearby and looks up sharply.]
Linden?
[His expression softens, just a touch. His LED whirls red, processing the fresh loss.]
[L was far slower to arrive, partly because his ability to physically reach the house was hindered more than an android's designed for active law enforcement, and because his intuition has always been almost unfairly keen. That wrenching, twisting, breaking feeling could only really mean one thing, and if his legs became the wind it wouldn't be enough to help matters in the least. It couldn't stop what had already been done.
The characteristically stoic man is quiet as he approaches. Connor will hear him when his leather boots that appear too heavy for his spindly frame scuff against shards and splinters of glass littering the floor.]
Yes.
[His features are dull, blank, lifeless and drained. Expressing anguish is beyond him; he shuts down, in times like these, withdrawing into himself, and now there's no one here to tell him how to extract and connect from the inside.]
It... hurt, didn't it.
[A passionless observation, all things considered. Both because accessing the pain only promises to hurt, and because the SQUIP's decline and illness had made it feel like it had been gone for quite some time, already. It never truly recovered, never truly accepted its new and inflicted humanity. Did some arbiter in this strange universe decide that only one fate truly befitted it, after such a loss?]
The characteristically stoic man is quiet as he approaches. Connor will hear him when his leather boots that appear too heavy for his spindly frame scuff against shards and splinters of glass littering the floor.]
Yes.
[His features are dull, blank, lifeless and drained. Expressing anguish is beyond him; he shuts down, in times like these, withdrawing into himself, and now there's no one here to tell him how to extract and connect from the inside.]
It... hurt, didn't it.
[A passionless observation, all things considered. Both because accessing the pain only promises to hurt, and because the SQUIP's decline and illness had made it feel like it had been gone for quite some time, already. It never truly recovered, never truly accepted its new and inflicted humanity. Did some arbiter in this strange universe decide that only one fate truly befitted it, after such a loss?]
[Looks like L got a gift! And it's...a bag of taffys, of various flavors. But it's a big bag, and should he get to the bottom, he will find...
What looks like a piece of leather on one side, and what is fur covered on the other. It's wrapped around a note, that reads:]
I don't know if this will make things waterproof, but I know it will help keep things warm. I mean to make this for wrapping books, but use this however you will.
-Caren
What looks like a piece of leather on one side, and what is fur covered on the other. It's wrapped around a note, that reads:]
I don't know if this will make things waterproof, but I know it will help keep things warm. I mean to make this for wrapping books, but use this however you will.
-Caren
[Gifts are not a language L has much familiarity or skill with. As someone largely unconcerned with material possessions, they're typically more of an inconvenience than a delight to him... but when he sees that he has received something from Caren, and considered its potential and very practical applications, he realizes that it's actually extremely thoughtful.
Therefore, thanks are probably in order.
At work, she'll find that a note has been delivered to her, along with a gift in return. It's a plate of half a dozen small, fried cakes.]
Thank you for the gift. I'm considering how best to use the material, as it's very warm and I'm frequently very cold, but I wanted to return the gesture with a snack that is important to me. They are called apple latkes.
[The intention is surely a good one, but should Caren chance to take a bite of one, she's going to find that they are burnt on the outside, undercooked in the center. They're truly awful; who would add copious amounts of pepper to something that's intended to be sweet, and then try to cancel it out with actual spoonfulls of sugar dumped on top?]
Therefore, thanks are probably in order.
At work, she'll find that a note has been delivered to her, along with a gift in return. It's a plate of half a dozen small, fried cakes.]
Thank you for the gift. I'm considering how best to use the material, as it's very warm and I'm frequently very cold, but I wanted to return the gesture with a snack that is important to me. They are called apple latkes.
[The intention is surely a good one, but should Caren chance to take a bite of one, she's going to find that they are burnt on the outside, undercooked in the center. They're truly awful; who would add copious amounts of pepper to something that's intended to be sweet, and then try to cancel it out with actual spoonfulls of sugar dumped on top?]
voice, backdated to shortly after <s>Mello's trip to Disneyland</s> L & Mello's encounter;
faithlikeaseed
2020-03-02 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
[Myr had--tried, earnestly tried to make space for the idea that whatever he'd felt over the Bond last night was not as horrible as it felt. To trust (ha!) that L could take care of himself, that it wasn't a murder or worse in progress-- To give his Bonded some kind of necessary space for growth and agency.
He failed miserably, and after several hours of utter distraction by increasingly terrible imagined scenarios he grabs the watch and calls L. At least--small mercies--he knows the detective's not dead, but dear Maker--]
What happened last night and how badly are you hurt?
He failed miserably, and after several hours of utter distraction by increasingly terrible imagined scenarios he grabs the watch and calls L. At least--small mercies--he knows the detective's not dead, but dear Maker--]
What happened last night and how badly are you hurt?
[If L had any other option, he wouldn't be speaking aloud in any kind of message. But it's Myr's voice, and he reaches for his watch, fingers closing around it as he draws it close to his face.
He whispers, not because he has any particular need to be clandestine, but because the friction of words scorches his tender throat. He's been icing it, and it only sort of helps.]
M'not hurt. Mostly just hungover.
[Possibly still drunk, actually, even though it's early morning now. The light filtering through the dingy curtains makes the room look even shabbier.]
If you felt anything through the Bond, I assure you it was an overreaction on my part.
He whispers, not because he has any particular need to be clandestine, but because the friction of words scorches his tender throat. He's been icing it, and it only sort of helps.]
M'not hurt. Mostly just hungover.
[Possibly still drunk, actually, even though it's early morning now. The light filtering through the dingy curtains makes the room look even shabbier.]
If you felt anything through the Bond, I assure you it was an overreaction on my part.
Edited 2020-03-02 04:04 (UTC)
Hi, we didn't find each other intolerable, right?
( this is a normal way to approach someone you once had a pleasant coffee after an awkward mistletoe encounter with, right. )
( this is a normal way to approach someone you once had a pleasant coffee after an awkward mistletoe encounter with, right. )
My impression was that it was a stimulating time, and not in a bad way.
[He's not immediately sure how to deal with this. People don't usually contact him again, on account of the awkwardness.]
[He's not immediately sure how to deal with this. People don't usually contact him again, on account of the awkwardness.]
I'm gonna assume you didn't leave ten grand here as an apology.
Are you dead?
[Sarcasm. Mello would know if his Bond expired. He knows it, which is why he hasn't worried too much. L has always been elusive. Absent. Why should that have changed?]
Are you dead?
[Sarcasm. Mello would know if his Bond expired. He knows it, which is why he hasn't worried too much. L has always been elusive. Absent. Why should that have changed?]
[The message surprises L, after so long. He swallows, centering his watch in his lap, considering his answer carefully before he starts typing.]
Is that really the dollar equivalent to the cune amount? In truth, I'd forgotten it was there.
[There's an absurd, childish sincerity to how little value L places on money. It's an incidental side-effect of the work he enjoys, as it always has been, and it had been managed by Watari along with many other aspects of his life.]
I'm well. I hope that you can say the same.
Is that really the dollar equivalent to the cune amount? In truth, I'd forgotten it was there.
[There's an absurd, childish sincerity to how little value L places on money. It's an incidental side-effect of the work he enjoys, as it always has been, and it had been managed by Watari along with many other aspects of his life.]
I'm well. I hope that you can say the same.
Linden, [Myr starts in without preamble--as if they'd last spoken yesterday and not two weeks ago, in a dream,] are you free?
[His tone's carefully neutral, and wherever he is, he's far enough away to keep the Bond being too explicit on his current emotions. (After two weeks of nightmare-haunted bleakness, that might be a blessing.)
What does creep through hints at a certain loneliness, and concern. Ever and always with Myr, concern.]
[His tone's carefully neutral, and wherever he is, he's far enough away to keep the Bond being too explicit on his current emotions. (After two weeks of nightmare-haunted bleakness, that might be a blessing.)
What does creep through hints at a certain loneliness, and concern. Ever and always with Myr, concern.]
[L is in fact free, or something like it. Mondays typically find him well-rested enough, which is fortunate, since he works. And Myr would know that, along with his typical schedule and the shop's hours. Now that Runetchers is closed for the day, L's left to wander, loiter, look for a purpose that usually leads him to the library or the Coven for private study. No matter how sleep-deprived, hungry or lonely he is, he can always cram more into a brain that remains his most impressive asset.
He still regards the watch in his hands like it's a live grenade when he hears his Bonded's voice, perhaps even considers treating it as such and lobbing it away. In the end, he masters the impulse, swallowing and clearing his throat before answering in his own carefully modulated neutral tone. What he feels through the dulled veil of their Bond is too familiar not to reach back towards.]
Yes...
[Whatever "free" means; the word carries strange and sinister connotations for one who still feels he was only ever in his element in a padded room locked behind a key code, managed by a handler when he did need to leave.]
Is there a reason you're asking?
[Because there must be. Obligatory concern, or perhaps two weeks taken to decide that an annulment would spare both of them grief in the long run. L braces and prepares for the second outcome, realizing that it will leave him wholly Bondless if (when) it occurs. He'll figure out what to do from there, of course, manage in his way, even look on the bright side of it all. No one else needs to be tied to the anchor pulling him down, and it ties up so many loose ends. There's a twisting sting to it, but it can put a placid smile on his face even if Friday isn't nearly close enough. That can sweeten his tone, and Myr will believe him when he says that he understands and wishes his dear friend well.]
It's OK. I think I know. Did... you want to meet at the Coven?
[Best to do it before fear or regret, or even reality, set in. He can salvage some grace and leave Myr with that impression, at least.]
He still regards the watch in his hands like it's a live grenade when he hears his Bonded's voice, perhaps even considers treating it as such and lobbing it away. In the end, he masters the impulse, swallowing and clearing his throat before answering in his own carefully modulated neutral tone. What he feels through the dulled veil of their Bond is too familiar not to reach back towards.]
Yes...
[Whatever "free" means; the word carries strange and sinister connotations for one who still feels he was only ever in his element in a padded room locked behind a key code, managed by a handler when he did need to leave.]
Is there a reason you're asking?
[Because there must be. Obligatory concern, or perhaps two weeks taken to decide that an annulment would spare both of them grief in the long run. L braces and prepares for the second outcome, realizing that it will leave him wholly Bondless if (when) it occurs. He'll figure out what to do from there, of course, manage in his way, even look on the bright side of it all. No one else needs to be tied to the anchor pulling him down, and it ties up so many loose ends. There's a twisting sting to it, but it can put a placid smile on his face even if Friday isn't nearly close enough. That can sweeten his tone, and Myr will believe him when he says that he understands and wishes his dear friend well.]
It's OK. I think I know. Did... you want to meet at the Coven?
[Best to do it before fear or regret, or even reality, set in. He can salvage some grace and leave Myr with that impression, at least.]
Edited 2020-05-05 05:00 (UTC)
[It's early on another hot and sunny summer day that Myr blows into the cottage he's taken over with L, all shaggy with the advent of the moon and grinning irrepressibly to himself.]
Linden! [he calls through the house; if he didn't know his Bonded was still up, he'd dial it down--probably should still, really, but muddled as he can get at this time of month that's hard to do immediately.] I've got breakfast and news!
Linden! [he calls through the house; if he didn't know his Bonded was still up, he'd dial it down--probably should still, really, but muddled as he can get at this time of month that's hard to do immediately.] I've got breakfast and news!
[For some, it's difficult to tell when they're coming or going, and it's much the same for L in regards to sleep. If he's up early, he might have genuinely risen that way, but it's equally likely that he simply stayed up all night and happens to still be conscious and alert when the Sun is rising.
He reaches toward his mop of dark hair to brush it away from his face, recalling the phantom sensation of strands through his fingers with a pang. He swallows it, using his forearm instead and peering out of the bedroom he uses more often as a study.
He never considers Myr obligated to come and see him; he's glad when it happens, anyway, and more so when Myr greets him as though he's an entire person one might be glad to see. It doesn't feel that way, lately, and Myr either feels it genuinely, or is good enough at pretending that he can fool a master detective. Even if the latter is true, L would be grateful for it, these days.
His voice, as it used to sound and should sound, can be heard clearly through their Bond and a telepathic mouthpiece L's been practicing.]
Oh? You didn't have to.
[A token protest. He's glad for breakfast.]
What's the news, Myr?
He reaches toward his mop of dark hair to brush it away from his face, recalling the phantom sensation of strands through his fingers with a pang. He swallows it, using his forearm instead and peering out of the bedroom he uses more often as a study.
He never considers Myr obligated to come and see him; he's glad when it happens, anyway, and more so when Myr greets him as though he's an entire person one might be glad to see. It doesn't feel that way, lately, and Myr either feels it genuinely, or is good enough at pretending that he can fool a master detective. Even if the latter is true, L would be grateful for it, these days.
His voice, as it used to sound and should sound, can be heard clearly through their Bond and a telepathic mouthpiece L's been practicing.]
Oh? You didn't have to.
[A token protest. He's glad for breakfast.]
What's the news, Myr?
[It's sometime well after L's dragged himself home and begun suturing his own wounds that Myr finally arrives.
He hadn't come at the first spike of pain over the Bond, though it had been his instinct to: L had told him it was all right, uncomfortable but survivable.
And Myr had believed that.
It was only when the first shreds of drugged wooziness began leaking into the Bond that he'd begun to believe that maybe the injury hadn't been so minor as L said--
And then Niles had resurrected himself, calling out of the blue to plead what had happened was an accident.
With all the sordid explaining that had followed, as Myr had finally, finally left work for the day and headed for L's side. The conversation with the Chimera had dragged out long and he'd been loathe to set hoof inside while having it, but at length it's done and dead (as Niles should have stayed) and he can abandon the garden for the indoors.
He doesn't knock, doesn't announce himself. This is his home--partway--and it's his Bonded who's left the whole place smelling of blood.
He tracks the scent to one of the bathrooms, throttling the instinct to bolt and the instinct to start yelling once he's found the right one.]
Linden.
Need help?
He hadn't come at the first spike of pain over the Bond, though it had been his instinct to: L had told him it was all right, uncomfortable but survivable.
And Myr had believed that.
It was only when the first shreds of drugged wooziness began leaking into the Bond that he'd begun to believe that maybe the injury hadn't been so minor as L said--
And then Niles had resurrected himself, calling out of the blue to plead what had happened was an accident.
With all the sordid explaining that had followed, as Myr had finally, finally left work for the day and headed for L's side. The conversation with the Chimera had dragged out long and he'd been loathe to set hoof inside while having it, but at length it's done and dead (as Niles should have stayed) and he can abandon the garden for the indoors.
He doesn't knock, doesn't announce himself. This is his home--partway--and it's his Bonded who's left the whole place smelling of blood.
He tracks the scent to one of the bathrooms, throttling the instinct to bolt and the instinct to start yelling once he's found the right one.]
Linden.
Need help?
[L thinks, for quite some time, that he's managed to circumvent any possible inconvenient or uncomfortable part of this situation. He thinks so as he soaks towel after towel in bright red, lightheaded and bleary as he threads a needle and wields it lefthanded. He thinks so as he drinks a potion to dull the pain, sloppily knits together the rent flesh, and starts to doze once or twice against the side of the tub. He thinks so as nausea forces him, once again, to shift his position, look for another angle to approach the ugly gashes in his forearm.
There's a lot to focus on, and a heavy ringing in his ears. He actually doesn't hear Myr come in, and though the door to the bathroom is kicked half-shut, he didn't think he had a reason to close or lock it. Though his tightly-wound and hyper-alert typical state would jump at the sound of his Bonded's voice so close and so suddenly, he is slower to react, because...
Well, yes, he does need help. It's a mercy, at least, that Myr can't view what looks like a murder scene.]
You're here...
[He sounds as crestfallen as he does exhausted from the blood loss. Myr wasn't supposed to come, at least not until L finished patching this up sufficiently, taping it back together into something makeshift but adequate.
He swallows; his throat is so dry.]
Another towel?
[If any remain. He bundled so many at once into his arms, but maybe not all of them. In the back of his mind, in a dimmer place that doesn't have as much stamina as usual, he wonders how much Myr knows, what he's been told.]
There's a lot to focus on, and a heavy ringing in his ears. He actually doesn't hear Myr come in, and though the door to the bathroom is kicked half-shut, he didn't think he had a reason to close or lock it. Though his tightly-wound and hyper-alert typical state would jump at the sound of his Bonded's voice so close and so suddenly, he is slower to react, because...
Well, yes, he does need help. It's a mercy, at least, that Myr can't view what looks like a murder scene.]
You're here...
[He sounds as crestfallen as he does exhausted from the blood loss. Myr wasn't supposed to come, at least not until L finished patching this up sufficiently, taping it back together into something makeshift but adequate.
He swallows; his throat is so dry.]
Another towel?
[If any remain. He bundled so many at once into his arms, but maybe not all of them. In the back of his mind, in a dimmer place that doesn't have as much stamina as usual, he wonders how much Myr knows, what he's been told.]
Edited 2020-09-07 05:53 (UTC)
[Niles and Azura arrive at L's cottage hand in hand. His right in her left, her eyes on his blind side. He's not scared, he's not anxious, he's alert. L had what he wanted back, Morgana was dealt with, and now he's about to submit to L's magical tampering. He'd researched the design, taken it to the rune etchers that L used to work at, verified from multiple sources that these runes would do what L said they would. Now all that was left was to make sure he didn't try any sneaky substitutions between the needle and his skin.
He squeezes Azura's hand, and thinks back to the truly imposing silhouette she'd made the day she held her lance to L's neck and ordered him to release his hold on Niles. The mental image soothes him and he knocks, ready to face what was next.
Or at least he was ready until L's housekeeper Lalu answers the door. An aardwolf turnskin, her reaction to seeing Niles is immediate and dramatic. The hair on her head, the fur on her shoulders and down her back, even the patches on her forearms bristle intensely. Talk about striking an intimidating pose. His ears pin back, but he otherwise keeps his body language in check.]
Calm down, we're invited. Linden didn't tell you to expect us I suppose?
He squeezes Azura's hand, and thinks back to the truly imposing silhouette she'd made the day she held her lance to L's neck and ordered him to release his hold on Niles. The mental image soothes him and he knocks, ready to face what was next.
Or at least he was ready until L's housekeeper Lalu answers the door. An aardwolf turnskin, her reaction to seeing Niles is immediate and dramatic. The hair on her head, the fur on her shoulders and down her back, even the patches on her forearms bristle intensely. Talk about striking an intimidating pose. His ears pin back, but he otherwise keeps his body language in check.]
Calm down, we're invited. Linden didn't tell you to expect us I suppose?
[Lalu is, indeed, somewhat protective of this space and the man she's in charge of taking care of.
"He's been in his study since last night, working on getting somethin' right. Haven't seen him since yestern, and I'd think friend's a' his would know he's got that wont about him."]
It's fine...
[L appears after the quick and audible opening and closing of a door. He does, true to Lalu's word, look like he's been up working all night. Also true to Lalu's word, that's fairly typical for him, but it's perhaps a sign of good faith that he's evidently been up working to get this right, for Niles.]
You can let them in. I was expecting them.
[Lalu mutters something about the importance of knowing who is coming and going, that his affairs change like the weather and too often to anticipate. Nevertheless, the aardwolf turnskin's coat lays a little smoother against her back as she retreats to vent her frustration by vigorously sweeping a corner.]
Sit down.
[The kitchen table is probably where he's referring to, though he doesn't specify. L's not really the most hospitable guy at the best of times, and though he doesn't require Myr to feel safe, by this point, things are still clearly a bit tense.]
"He's been in his study since last night, working on getting somethin' right. Haven't seen him since yestern, and I'd think friend's a' his would know he's got that wont about him."]
It's fine...
[L appears after the quick and audible opening and closing of a door. He does, true to Lalu's word, look like he's been up working all night. Also true to Lalu's word, that's fairly typical for him, but it's perhaps a sign of good faith that he's evidently been up working to get this right, for Niles.]
You can let them in. I was expecting them.
[Lalu mutters something about the importance of knowing who is coming and going, that his affairs change like the weather and too often to anticipate. Nevertheless, the aardwolf turnskin's coat lays a little smoother against her back as she retreats to vent her frustration by vigorously sweeping a corner.]
Sit down.
[The kitchen table is probably where he's referring to, though he doesn't specify. L's not really the most hospitable guy at the best of times, and though he doesn't require Myr to feel safe, by this point, things are still clearly a bit tense.]
Edited 2020-10-26 23:18 (UTC)
shortly after Lahabrea's post, watch, voice; (myr is inviting you & viren to a zoom meeting)
faithlikeaseed
2020-10-30 01:24 am (UTC)(link)
[Myr would have postponed this call--or more likely, spoken to both his Bonded separately and in person--if he didn't have the sneaking sense from two of his Bonds that something was going on.
So, cheerfully, lightly, he calls both of them:]
Linden, Viren. Might I talk to the two of you?
So, cheerfully, lightly, he calls both of them:]
Linden, Viren. Might I talk to the two of you?
Oh, good, you're not spit-roasted over an open fire.
[Read: hi, Myr.]
[Read: hi, Myr.]
"Liden?"
Light calls out to the house after stepping inside. It's late enough in the evening that he should be done with his time at the orphanage, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's already home.
Removing the thin coat that he wears to combat the chilling weather, Light places his bag down by the door for a moment. He'll return for it soon, but there's a talk to be had first.
"Are you home?"
Light calls out to the house after stepping inside. It's late enough in the evening that he should be done with his time at the orphanage, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's already home.
Removing the thin coat that he wears to combat the chilling weather, Light places his bag down by the door for a moment. He'll return for it soon, but there's a talk to be had first.
"Are you home?"
L doesn't much like to presume. Even so, he thinks he knows what this is about.
Niles is coarse. Brutal. Sexual. And he's accused L of the same in equal measure and balance. L can take it, on the chin if need be, but-
Not to him. Stay away from him.
A deep breath, followed by a long exhalation, and then...
"Yes, I'm here."
And he has nothing to apologize for.
He steps into the living area, manner both languid and vaguely agitated. Light knows already that L is a paradox; he lets it ride.
"It's been a long day. Is there something you need?"
Niles is coarse. Brutal. Sexual. And he's accused L of the same in equal measure and balance. L can take it, on the chin if need be, but-
Not to him. Stay away from him.
A deep breath, followed by a long exhalation, and then...
"Yes, I'm here."
And he has nothing to apologize for.
He steps into the living area, manner both languid and vaguely agitated. Light knows already that L is a paradox; he lets it ride.
"It's been a long day. Is there something you need?"
Linden Id like to buy your enchanting services. I need to stay cool if I want to participate in the scavenger hunts and none of the cooling jewelry Ive found is powerful enough to make a difference for me. You once gave me frostbite by touch, so I trust youll be able to upgrade the enchantment on one to meet my needs. What would that cost me?
[And then, a beat later a second message.]
To be clear I dont want it to give me frostbite, just keep me from succumbing to heat stroke.
[And then, a beat later a second message.]
To be clear I dont want it to give me frostbite, just keep me from succumbing to heat stroke.
Edited 2020-12-20 01:30 (UTC)
[More or less true to his word, L's gotten much better at actually picking up his device when it's someone other than Light Yagami on the other end.]
You trust correctly.
[When he's good at something, he's among, if not the very best. For as harsh as L's self-image can get, that much at least is true.]
Do you plan to be running through fire? Or are you only concerned with the summer heat in the Wilds?
You trust correctly.
[When he's good at something, he's among, if not the very best. For as harsh as L's self-image can get, that much at least is true.]
Do you plan to be running through fire? Or are you only concerned with the summer heat in the Wilds?
Edited 2020-12-20 03:05 (UTC)
[Depending on preference, Ozymandias gifts his fellow Council members with either a coffee or tea sampler from the Purramid Café for Modranicht. Regardless of which sampler is received, it is fairly sizable and offers around 40 cups worth across all the blends included. The note that is included while not necessarily personalized is sincere in its expressed intent for more good works and successes to be celebrated by the Council.]
[On the day of the holiday, a plate of homemade cookies and a sample of herbal tea mysteriously appears on his doorstep. The wrapping is decorated with a fresh lily flower (actually a Fae magic product, designed to fade away from existence in a few hours) and a ribbon. The attached handwritten note reads as follows:]
Happy Modranicht! Let’s have another great year here in Aefenglom!
M⚜️
Happy Modranicht! Let’s have another great year here in Aefenglom!
M⚜️
[Along with the plate of libum--the little poppy-studded cheesecakes--and homemade honey candy that Myr leaves for L on Modranicht morning, he also presents his Witch with a truly lovely set of tools for carving, etching, or writing runes on any surface one could think of. They are unshowy but exceptionally well-made--the tools of a true professional.
Because this is Aefenglom, there is, of course, a knife in the set. Since its removal would be obvious, Myr has left it in, but carefully wrapped a golden ribbon around the entire blade and sealed the ends in wax with his bee-and-plum-blossom device.]
Because this is Aefenglom, there is, of course, a knife in the set. Since its removal would be obvious, Myr has left it in, but carefully wrapped a golden ribbon around the entire blade and sealed the ends in wax with his bee-and-plum-blossom device.]
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