[Unseen, on the other end of the communication, L flinches at the sound of something shattering. Dried clay? He thinks to the time spent in Myr's home, wondering which piece. Mending isn't his magical strong suit, in the same way that healing is an inconvenient area of ineptness for him.
He stiffens, knowing that Myr coming to meet him probably isn't a good idea, but... it's better than going to get Mello, isn't it? Mello, doubtless in a hell of his own making, wrapped in self-loathing, does not need a fight today.
There's time; he can shower, assess what damage exists, deal with it, and leave this place. He'll give Myr a different address, somewhere neutral, safer, gentler.]
I'm having breakfast at...
[His mind races, thinking of the businesses close enough to hobble to quickly.]
...The Canary's Omelette. Can you meet me there?
[He carries the rest of his clothes to the room's bathroom, catches his reflection, and as he often does, he gives silent thanks that Myr is blind. There's a slight welt on his cheek from where he was slapped, his eyes are blood-red, and his throat sports a distinctive pattern of finger-shaped bruises.
Illusion magic; he can't fix this, but he can cover up the visual tells so no one sighted bothers him about any of it. He turns on the shower, looks for a good vein, uses the fogging mirror to trace a few experimental runes.
It's a lot, before he's even managed to get some coffee.]
no subject
He stiffens, knowing that Myr coming to meet him probably isn't a good idea, but... it's better than going to get Mello, isn't it? Mello, doubtless in a hell of his own making, wrapped in self-loathing, does not need a fight today.
There's time; he can shower, assess what damage exists, deal with it, and leave this place. He'll give Myr a different address, somewhere neutral, safer, gentler.]
I'm having breakfast at...
[His mind races, thinking of the businesses close enough to hobble to quickly.]
...The Canary's Omelette. Can you meet me there?
[He carries the rest of his clothes to the room's bathroom, catches his reflection, and as he often does, he gives silent thanks that Myr is blind. There's a slight welt on his cheek from where he was slapped, his eyes are blood-red, and his throat sports a distinctive pattern of finger-shaped bruises.
Illusion magic; he can't fix this, but he can cover up the visual tells so no one sighted bothers him about any of it. He turns on the shower, looks for a good vein, uses the fogging mirror to trace a few experimental runes.
It's a lot, before he's even managed to get some coffee.]