[Myr has been admirably punctual in meeting with L after every visit to investigate the Evergreen Circle. Even if it were not a matter of their own safety to coordinate in such a manner, Myr takes a certain pleasure in their debriefings--in feeling that he's part of that enterprise that his amatus lives and breathes for.
(It almost made up for knowing L was attending the meetings at Light's side, while Myr stuck to Viren like a burr. Almost.)
But there comes a day when he simply doesn't show. Doesn't call to say he'll be late or otherwise give an excuse for his absence.
He's simply not there at the agreed-upon time.]
(It almost made up for knowing L was attending the meetings at Light's side, while Myr stuck to Viren like a burr. Almost.)
But there comes a day when he simply doesn't show. Doesn't call to say he'll be late or otherwise give an excuse for his absence.
He's simply not there at the agreed-upon time.]
[Though L can admittedly get somewhat lost in his Bond with Light, slotting so easily into place against the other Witch, he cherishes his time with Myr. Now that both of them are dividing their time between three Bonds, it's a bit sparser, though in L's case the balance is lopsided. Near does not take much; Light is freely given the difference.
He notices, in other words, when something is off. Myr doesn't just not show up, and L paces some quick, uneven steps before reaching out tenuously through their Bond, at least to see if he's nearby. If not... well, the scrying basin is how he will be found, whether or not he wants to be.
What if he doesn't want to be found? L closes his eyes, tries to concentrate on the quiet, calm connection.
Where are you? You're late... that's not customary.]
He notices, in other words, when something is off. Myr doesn't just not show up, and L paces some quick, uneven steps before reaching out tenuously through their Bond, at least to see if he's nearby. If not... well, the scrying basin is how he will be found, whether or not he wants to be.
What if he doesn't want to be found? L closes his eyes, tries to concentrate on the quiet, calm connection.
Where are you? You're late... that's not customary.]
[--Though perhaps "welfare check" is a misnomer when Myr can already feel how poorly L's doing.]
So we've Mello back among us.
Shall I come over?
[It's more a rhetorical question than anything; he's likely already packing up.
It also skips right over "how are you doing" because that--is fraught.]
So we've Mello back among us.
Shall I come over?
[It's more a rhetorical question than anything; he's likely already packing up.
It also skips right over "how are you doing" because that--is fraught.]
[L's engaging both Mello and Light on his watch when he hears Myr's soft voice over it.]
We have.
[Snappish. He failed to pull back the last tone he was taking with his other Bonded. Rein it in; by all appearances, this has rattled you to pieces.]
...you don't have to.
[If L truly didn't want Myr to come over, he'd have said "no." Doubtless Myr knows well enough what noting no obligation actually means.
Ironically, were L better at communicating what he wants and what he'll permit, a lot would be different about Mello's return.]
We have.
[Snappish. He failed to pull back the last tone he was taking with his other Bonded. Rein it in; by all appearances, this has rattled you to pieces.]
...you don't have to.
[If L truly didn't want Myr to come over, he'd have said "no." Doubtless Myr knows well enough what noting no obligation actually means.
Ironically, were L better at communicating what he wants and what he'll permit, a lot would be different about Mello's return.]
[It's a name L didn't expect to see on his screen. He grinds his teeth as he goes for his mortar and pestle, checking back between steps for responses.]
I'm not afraid.
[Near never said he was.]
I'm not afraid.
[Near never said he was.]
[The camera points down the long polished bar table of Frisky's Feline Fantasies. M is there, same scowl on a new face, the motion blur on his hands indicate that he's serving out shots to a large group in rapid fire.]
You send him to me on purpose?
You send him to me on purpose?
No.
[The response isn't immediate. L needs time to think about every single recent development, in a way that is unusually exhausting.]
Why would you believe that? And... don't hurt him.
[The response isn't immediate. L needs time to think about every single recent development, in a way that is unusually exhausting.]
Why would you believe that? And... don't hurt him.
[Mello has been nothing short of overwhelmed with faces and information since arriving here and being one to immediately kick himself into action, he hasn't had much in the way of downtime.]
[Not that he ever has, but that's beside the point. It's an uneventful afternoon when he decides to stop into the nearby tea house and grab himself a quick cuppa. Perhaps sit for a spell and ruminate over everything he's learned and experienced since involuntarily relocating to this new place which is nothing like any location he's experienced before.]
[He's always been an adaptable thing but right now: the blonde needs to breathe, even if it's only for twenty minutes or so.]
[He doesn't bother removing his shades when he enters — the sun is so bright for his pale eyes — and immediately approaches the counter to peruse what the non-British would pass off as tea when he sees — ]
[Dark hair out of the corner of his eye, and oh shit. Dream or no, Mello knows it was an exchanged that did occur. But he's never been one to hide. Isn't in his nature.]
[He turns his face towards Linden, lips drawn into a tight attempt to keep his mouth shut, but he's never been much good at that either, has he?]
Didn't think I'd see you here, [he announces loud enough to gain L's attention. Was hoping to avoid running into his 'predecessor' anywhere, really. He's already got too much on his plate.]
[Not that he ever has, but that's beside the point. It's an uneventful afternoon when he decides to stop into the nearby tea house and grab himself a quick cuppa. Perhaps sit for a spell and ruminate over everything he's learned and experienced since involuntarily relocating to this new place which is nothing like any location he's experienced before.]
[He's always been an adaptable thing but right now: the blonde needs to breathe, even if it's only for twenty minutes or so.]
[He doesn't bother removing his shades when he enters — the sun is so bright for his pale eyes — and immediately approaches the counter to peruse what the non-British would pass off as tea when he sees — ]
[Dark hair out of the corner of his eye, and oh shit. Dream or no, Mello knows it was an exchanged that did occur. But he's never been one to hide. Isn't in his nature.]
[He turns his face towards Linden, lips drawn into a tight attempt to keep his mouth shut, but he's never been much good at that either, has he?]
Didn't think I'd see you here, [he announces loud enough to gain L's attention. Was hoping to avoid running into his 'predecessor' anywhere, really. He's already got too much on his plate.]
Edited 2021-03-19 02:29 (UTC)
[DiplomaTea is run by a second degree of familiarity to L; that is, while he is not close or even truly acquainted with Everett, he is Bonded to Myr, who trusts him. L finds it difficult to trust, so much that paradoxically, he tends to place a ridiculous amount of trust in one person to compensate for a normal amount he obstinately will not give others. For good or ill, Myr is rather the receptacle for what passes for faith, from one of their ilk.
Therefore, simply, DiplomaTea is perhaps the only establishment of its sort that L will actually stay for awhile, rest his limbs, enjoy his drink instead of hurrying off toward his next destination. Now that he's consistently a busy man, there's always somewhere to be, something to look into, the occasional gentle volunteer hour, and of course the three Bonded between whom he divides his time and energy.
He's stopped off at a station for honey and cream. The hand drizzling the former into his waiting cup hovers and halts, and he glances sideways at the tense, familiar voice. He does not turn fully to face Mello; he's not sure whether he will not, or cannot.]
I live in the Haven, and I drink tea. Considering that I don't hide my face, here... my presence shouldn't be shocking.
[Mello was breaking the ice; what else is there to say? This is the first time they're meeting in Aefenglom in the flesh; the dream both counts, and does not.
In person, L might seem shabbier, paler, older. A dark, indented scar rings the base of each finger. In spite of the brittle way he has about him, he's dressed better than he was in the dream, better than one who knows him might expect. A meticulous hand has fastened his tie, double-checked that his buttons are in an even line, pressed his jacket (in flattering charcoal houndstooth) free of wrinkles.]
When a world is this small... coincidences are common.
[His tone implies unfortunately. The word goes unspoken, though, so who could say?]
Therefore, simply, DiplomaTea is perhaps the only establishment of its sort that L will actually stay for awhile, rest his limbs, enjoy his drink instead of hurrying off toward his next destination. Now that he's consistently a busy man, there's always somewhere to be, something to look into, the occasional gentle volunteer hour, and of course the three Bonded between whom he divides his time and energy.
He's stopped off at a station for honey and cream. The hand drizzling the former into his waiting cup hovers and halts, and he glances sideways at the tense, familiar voice. He does not turn fully to face Mello; he's not sure whether he will not, or cannot.]
I live in the Haven, and I drink tea. Considering that I don't hide my face, here... my presence shouldn't be shocking.
[Mello was breaking the ice; what else is there to say? This is the first time they're meeting in Aefenglom in the flesh; the dream both counts, and does not.
In person, L might seem shabbier, paler, older. A dark, indented scar rings the base of each finger. In spite of the brittle way he has about him, he's dressed better than he was in the dream, better than one who knows him might expect. A meticulous hand has fastened his tie, double-checked that his buttons are in an even line, pressed his jacket (in flattering charcoal houndstooth) free of wrinkles.]
When a world is this small... coincidences are common.
[His tone implies unfortunately. The word goes unspoken, though, so who could say?]
[Niles is always punctual for these meetings with L. When his tattoo is running low he texts the man what days he has free, receives a time in return, and makes sure to show up then and only then. They aren't friends, but he is striving to be friendly at the very least, and as far as he can tell L is too, in his own ways. Being on time wasn't a big gesture, but something that he knows a man like L, one with such an affinity for patterns and routine, might appreciate.
And if his habit of good timing had gone unnoticed, well this time he brought a little something extra. When L answers the door he holds up a tin of candied fruits, and has a large-ish canteen fastened to the chill-enchanted belt L made for him earlier in the year.]
I know new tattoos need more of your blood and I wouldn't want you fainting mid rune.
And if his habit of good timing had gone unnoticed, well this time he brought a little something extra. When L answers the door he holds up a tin of candied fruits, and has a large-ish canteen fastened to the chill-enchanted belt L made for him earlier in the year.]
I know new tattoos need more of your blood and I wouldn't want you fainting mid rune.
[They're not friends; they're not even always friendly, but there is an understanding between them that warrants this kind of punctuality, this kind of respect. L makes the time, and makes sure that he's available when they've made arrangements.
Once he's let Niles in, he accepts the tin, looking mystified at the gesture but murmuring thanks. After what happened at Alder's party, it probably shouldn't come as a surprise that some kind of favor might be forthcoming; they're both transactional that way, seeing good and bad turns as deserving another.]
Unnecessary, but thanks...
[He takes the tin, and at the mention of blood, keeps his hand outheld expectantly for the canteen as well.]
Once he's let Niles in, he accepts the tin, looking mystified at the gesture but murmuring thanks. After what happened at Alder's party, it probably shouldn't come as a surprise that some kind of favor might be forthcoming; they're both transactional that way, seeing good and bad turns as deserving another.]
Unnecessary, but thanks...
[He takes the tin, and at the mention of blood, keeps his hand outheld expectantly for the canteen as well.]
Hi Linden,
how’s your day been? Any chance you’re free right now?
how’s your day been? Any chance you’re free right now?
[He glances at his watch. He's not always amenable to dropping everything, but given it's Alex...]
I can make time. I've been busy enough that I suppose I owe you, for letting your lessons fall by the wayside a bit.
I can make time. I've been busy enough that I suppose I owe you, for letting your lessons fall by the wayside a bit.
Edited 2021-05-03 01:11 (UTC)
may, night of the full moons (or early morning after)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
faithlikeaseed
2021-05-28 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
[There's someone waiting up for L when he gets home that night--at midnight or in the small hours after. Though "up" might be generous when a certain moon-shaggy Faun has fallen asleep on the doorstep of the detective's cottage, sagging against the door with a woven crown of flowers in his mussed hair. Whatever Myr'd been doing, it wasn't quite distracting enough to keep him from returning home to wait on his Witch... but it was, apparently, quite tiring.]
[That the detective is arriving home in one piece may be a minor miracle. That he's arriving home with a phylax companion is a major one, especially considering that it seems to be hale and fierce when called upon, and certainly more invested in keeping him safe than L himself is.
It's fortunate, considering the night he's had.]
Myr...
[He reaches out to gently rouse his Bonded with a touch to the shoulder. His orca phylax is not quite as gentle, bumping against Myr in a way that is playful, but somewhat rougher by merit of her size.]
It's fortunate, considering the night he's had.]
Myr...
[He reaches out to gently rouse his Bonded with a touch to the shoulder. His orca phylax is not quite as gentle, bumping against Myr in a way that is playful, but somewhat rougher by merit of her size.]
[ It might be due to the season for her type of fish, but Alex was much more like herself during the fullmoons. Not as out of control, but bolder, friendlier, more affectionate for sure. It might be that stronger desire for connecting that has her convincing Linden to go on a field trip during one of their usual class sessions.
She takes him towards the beach, away from the hustle and bustle of the harbor in a more secluded part of the shore. ]
It’s one of my favorite spots to go to.
[ She finally tells him, wanting to keep it a bit of a secret until they got there. ]
We’ll have to swim under for a bit, but I can cover you with the whole oxygen thing. Is that okay?
[ Alex wouldn’t push him, but it’s very apparent by the way she’s glancing up at him so expectantly she really wanted to go there with him. ]
She takes him towards the beach, away from the hustle and bustle of the harbor in a more secluded part of the shore. ]
It’s one of my favorite spots to go to.
[ She finally tells him, wanting to keep it a bit of a secret until they got there. ]
We’ll have to swim under for a bit, but I can cover you with the whole oxygen thing. Is that okay?
[ Alex wouldn’t push him, but it’s very apparent by the way she’s glancing up at him so expectantly she really wanted to go there with him. ]
[This is a welcome change of pace, however comforting L has come to find their typical routine. He holds his boots in one hand, feet bare on the sand as they approach the shore. Behind them, his orca phylax bobs and weaves playfully.]
You're sure it's OK? With...
[With Mello, he doesn't say. It seems awkward, somehow, to directly address the romance that might make their platonic but affectionate friendship awkward.]
You're sure it's OK? With...
[With Mello, he doesn't say. It seems awkward, somehow, to directly address the romance that might make their platonic but affectionate friendship awkward.]
Edited 2021-07-03 04:07 (UTC)
Did you think she wouldn't tell me or did you do it out of spite?
I thought neither.
We wanted each other; it was as simple as that.
We wanted each other; it was as simple as that.
[Maiuril had been an eventful month, to say the least--for Aefenglom and the Mirrorbound generally, and for Myr in particular. With Everett and Vandelin both among the influx of unbound visitors, the Faun had found his days (and nights) full and passing all-too-quickly for the beloved company. To say nothing of all that had come of the Diasteran contingent that had descended upon the city, with their tales of far-off lands, strange Monsters and stranger magic, and all that those things betokened. Combined, they'd been reason enough for Myr to set aside many of the cares that chased him in Aefenglom and give in to the lighter side of a Faun's nature (ignoring the heavier things remaining between him and his cousin) to frankly sinful excess.
He hadn't quite neglected L in all of that--had, in fact, invited his Witch along as often as not to whatever new thing had caught his attention--but he also hadn't been by his Bonded's side as often as was his wont. It's because of that there was an air of exhausted guilt about him as he crept home on the night crux between Maiuril and Iuneril, heavy with farewells said (Everett, Vandelin) and missed (Viren), and crept into the bed he shared with L to seek a potion-drugged sleep.
It should have been undisturbed, heavy, dreamless; he should have lain like the dead until well after dawn, when the prospect of wakefulness and every duty he had to resume on the other side of it wouldn't be quite so horrible.
But as has ever been the world's way with Myr, the palliative he's seeking isn't the one he gets.
Sometime around the third hour of morning he slips out of bed without waking up and heads for the door of the cottage. He doesn't take his staff; he doesn't call Crookytail to him, though she follows of her own accord when the click of hooves on the wooden floor wakes her. His pace is unhurried and unerring as he heads for the Coven, as he's done so many days throughout his life in Aefenglom, on some piece of business or another.
Though there's really only one reason Mirrorbound sleepwalk to the Coven--or a certain enchanted structure on its grounds.]
He hadn't quite neglected L in all of that--had, in fact, invited his Witch along as often as not to whatever new thing had caught his attention--but he also hadn't been by his Bonded's side as often as was his wont. It's because of that there was an air of exhausted guilt about him as he crept home on the night crux between Maiuril and Iuneril, heavy with farewells said (Everett, Vandelin) and missed (Viren), and crept into the bed he shared with L to seek a potion-drugged sleep.
It should have been undisturbed, heavy, dreamless; he should have lain like the dead until well after dawn, when the prospect of wakefulness and every duty he had to resume on the other side of it wouldn't be quite so horrible.
But as has ever been the world's way with Myr, the palliative he's seeking isn't the one he gets.
Sometime around the third hour of morning he slips out of bed without waking up and heads for the door of the cottage. He doesn't take his staff; he doesn't call Crookytail to him, though she follows of her own accord when the click of hooves on the wooden floor wakes her. His pace is unhurried and unerring as he heads for the Coven, as he's done so many days throughout his life in Aefenglom, on some piece of business or another.
Though there's really only one reason Mirrorbound sleepwalk to the Coven--or a certain enchanted structure on its grounds.]
[Time passes swiftly for humans when they're happy, and that holds true even for L with his odd definitions and standards for the state. Living with Light certainly keeps him something like satisfied, his studies busy his mind, his work is fulfilling in that minor way. Firecrackers, to the earth-rocking explosions of his past career, but at least he's doing what he likes, with someone who he's found it impossible to be bored by.
All said, when he's glanced up, and noticed that the passage of time is whirling through weeks at a time unnoticed, he's recognized that there's a significant absence at his side, one he wishes for most in the silent moments when most of the world is sleeping, but he's wide awake.
That's not the case, tonight. L's on the edge of a dream when Myr joins him in bed, limbs heavier than usual. He moves closer, sleeping on his side in a slightly curled position to fit himself against his Bonded in the way that always soothes.
He wakes with a start, though, when the bed is unexpectedly empty in the wee hours. He rubs the slumber from his eyes, hearing the latch, setting bare and bony feet on the wood floor and hurrying to the door of his room in time to perceive the wobbling shape of Crookytail following Myr outside.
There's a cold, clenched stone in the pit of his stomach. The light cotton undershirt and shorts he wore to bed expose most of his thin limbs, but it doesn't occur to him to bother with clothes, a jacket, or even a pair of shoes to protect his feet. He just knows that he has to move, quickly, and make an effort to catch up and stop whatever they've all come to view as bleakly inevitable, once it's started.
He's awake for it. That, alone, might bode well. Please, let it bode well.]
Hey...
[He draws even to Myr, slightly breathless. He nudges the faun's bare shoulder with the heel of his hand; best to try to wake him, first.]
All said, when he's glanced up, and noticed that the passage of time is whirling through weeks at a time unnoticed, he's recognized that there's a significant absence at his side, one he wishes for most in the silent moments when most of the world is sleeping, but he's wide awake.
That's not the case, tonight. L's on the edge of a dream when Myr joins him in bed, limbs heavier than usual. He moves closer, sleeping on his side in a slightly curled position to fit himself against his Bonded in the way that always soothes.
He wakes with a start, though, when the bed is unexpectedly empty in the wee hours. He rubs the slumber from his eyes, hearing the latch, setting bare and bony feet on the wood floor and hurrying to the door of his room in time to perceive the wobbling shape of Crookytail following Myr outside.
There's a cold, clenched stone in the pit of his stomach. The light cotton undershirt and shorts he wore to bed expose most of his thin limbs, but it doesn't occur to him to bother with clothes, a jacket, or even a pair of shoes to protect his feet. He just knows that he has to move, quickly, and make an effort to catch up and stop whatever they've all come to view as bleakly inevitable, once it's started.
He's awake for it. That, alone, might bode well. Please, let it bode well.]
Hey...
[He draws even to Myr, slightly breathless. He nudges the faun's bare shoulder with the heel of his hand; best to try to wake him, first.]
Edited 2021-07-20 01:42 (UTC)
[ It was another night of borrowing Linden’s bed, his presence giving her the comfort currently missing in her home. Alex felt selfish about it every time, but he insisted that it wasn’t. She manages to nab a few hours this time, three at most, but it was far better than nothing.
Slow to wake as usual, she rises the slowly, her bed hair a tousled mess. She steps out of the room, the door having been left open as she requested, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with one hand while the other grasped at the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. Was Linden still asleep, she wonders, walking over and peering over the armchair he’d slept in. ]
Slow to wake as usual, she rises the slowly, her bed hair a tousled mess. She steps out of the room, the door having been left open as she requested, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with one hand while the other grasped at the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. Was Linden still asleep, she wonders, walking over and peering over the armchair he’d slept in. ]
[He is, in fact, still sleeping. L looks like he needs it, slumped over the armrest with one arm dangling, the rest of his limbs curled stranglingly tight.
It's not uncommon for him to drink or drug himself to sleep, quietly. Hours after everyone else in his household went to bed, who would know? Still, he startles, waking in phases at the first suggestion of someone nearby. Even when he's sober, he's always been slow to sleep, quick to wake, always on edge and skittish. He has no bodyguard here; he retains all his frailties, and then some.]
You're... awake?
[He's overtired, groggy.]
What time is it?
It's not uncommon for him to drink or drug himself to sleep, quietly. Hours after everyone else in his household went to bed, who would know? Still, he startles, waking in phases at the first suggestion of someone nearby. Even when he's sober, he's always been slow to sleep, quick to wake, always on edge and skittish. He has no bodyguard here; he retains all his frailties, and then some.]
You're... awake?
[He's overtired, groggy.]
What time is it?
[If L's ever done anything wrong in his entire life — excluding forgiving his murderer — it was going along with someone like Mello adhering to identical training, though the detective had no way of knowing so long ago. No way of knowing that it would come to blows. No way of knowing that one who idolized him would become an adversary — ]
[But then there's Beyond, but Mello won't think anything of that, right now. Can't. He's nothing like that monster.]
[He's been tracking L for days — whether L knows or doesn't is up in the air — but the harbor is a sure shot, and if his mentor is aware, he certainly feels no threat.]
[Because here he is, and here Mello is: a seedy dive-bar where the people inhabiting the place aren't worth the mud beneath either of their shoes. It's dank; the smell of the bar has the ability to permeate into one's clothing, hair. Mello scrunches his nose, hones in on the mess of dark hair he spots from a short distance. Hearts pound for so many different reasons: love, hate, anxiety, death. There's no way of telling which one this applies to, but — ]
[But.]
[He approaches from behind, the heat eminating off of his body viscerally. There's no anger on his features; Mello has mastered the art of maintaining the perfect expression of calm, regardless of the situation. Besides. This is L. Not some random bloke he can just pick off.]
Linden.
[Collected. Even if his shoulders are tense, he hasn't come here for a fight. He hopes it won't come to that. Encounters with L have been fucking Hell since he's arrived here. But now?]
[But then there's Beyond, but Mello won't think anything of that, right now. Can't. He's nothing like that monster.]
[He's been tracking L for days — whether L knows or doesn't is up in the air — but the harbor is a sure shot, and if his mentor is aware, he certainly feels no threat.]
[Because here he is, and here Mello is: a seedy dive-bar where the people inhabiting the place aren't worth the mud beneath either of their shoes. It's dank; the smell of the bar has the ability to permeate into one's clothing, hair. Mello scrunches his nose, hones in on the mess of dark hair he spots from a short distance. Hearts pound for so many different reasons: love, hate, anxiety, death. There's no way of telling which one this applies to, but — ]
[But.]
[He approaches from behind, the heat eminating off of his body viscerally. There's no anger on his features; Mello has mastered the art of maintaining the perfect expression of calm, regardless of the situation. Besides. This is L. Not some random bloke he can just pick off.]
Linden.
[Collected. Even if his shoulders are tense, he hasn't come here for a fight. He hopes it won't come to that. Encounters with L have been fucking Hell since he's arrived here. But now?]
Edited 2021-09-27 04:11 (UTC)
[L spends a lot of time alone, these days. He's a solitary creature anyway, but also inconveniently codependent on others. He likes to at least be able to see signs of life and community, people going about their business, giving him a chance to observe and ape normalcy.
He hates it, and needs it, and hates that he needs it. The men in this bar are mostly larger and hairier than he is, unshaven and unclean, scented heavily with sweat and brine. Most of them work locally and spend their days laboring physically, not like the pale shabby man who sits with narrow shoulders hunched over the warm gin he's nursing.
Like the darker half of a yin and yang, a croissant-sized comma circles around a wrist bent to support his cheek in his palm.
He glances over his shoulder at the voice. Unblinking; the comma seems to swell and flare in size, freezing in its circles.]
...yes?
[He sounds distant, eyes and tone dulled. He doesn't want a fight, either; he came here to wrap himself in a warm haze of anonymity. He'd rather this didn't become a scene, and sacrifice something of such great value.]
He hates it, and needs it, and hates that he needs it. The men in this bar are mostly larger and hairier than he is, unshaven and unclean, scented heavily with sweat and brine. Most of them work locally and spend their days laboring physically, not like the pale shabby man who sits with narrow shoulders hunched over the warm gin he's nursing.
Like the darker half of a yin and yang, a croissant-sized comma circles around a wrist bent to support his cheek in his palm.
He glances over his shoulder at the voice. Unblinking; the comma seems to swell and flare in size, freezing in its circles.]
...yes?
[He sounds distant, eyes and tone dulled. He doesn't want a fight, either; he came here to wrap himself in a warm haze of anonymity. He'd rather this didn't become a scene, and sacrifice something of such great value.]
Page 2 of 2