[L straightens slightly, avoids leaning on Myr though the faun's sturdiness is a tempting crutch. This is a spell he has to center himself for, that might be a strain even at his very best. There's a fresh cut on the underside of his arm that hasn't closed, and he raises it discreetly to his mouth as though scratching an itch, agitating it so there's at least a bit of a flow.
There's a headrush, but he has the magic for this. That's what it ultimately means; it's a good thing, in the end.
He voices a soft warning, followed by an incantation, and the world drops away as their forms are forced through space at dizzying speed, felt wholly only when they land, somewhat abruptly and roughly, on the dingy carpet of the brothel's room with the sheets still undone, a crusted washcloth on the floor with remnants of semen and blood, and...
...a paper L hadn't noticed when he'd woken or left, but had certainly disposed of the night before. He steadies himself, swallows, sees what he expects to when he peers closer even if the explanations for it are sobering. Mello might have found it; so might Niles. Neither really bodes well, and Myr has to sense the sick chill that shudders down L's spine at the sight.]
It'll... only be a moment.
[He's tight in the chest. Out of breath from transporting them? Or is this a panic response too real to hide from his Bonded? His fingers reach past the paper that still bears signs of being crumpled up, reaching for a bottle of pills. The alcohol can stay, but these, he would rather have. ]
no subject
There's a headrush, but he has the magic for this. That's what it ultimately means; it's a good thing, in the end.
He voices a soft warning, followed by an incantation, and the world drops away as their forms are forced through space at dizzying speed, felt wholly only when they land, somewhat abruptly and roughly, on the dingy carpet of the brothel's room with the sheets still undone, a crusted washcloth on the floor with remnants of semen and blood, and...
...a paper L hadn't noticed when he'd woken or left, but had certainly disposed of the night before. He steadies himself, swallows, sees what he expects to when he peers closer even if the explanations for it are sobering. Mello might have found it; so might Niles. Neither really bodes well, and Myr has to sense the sick chill that shudders down L's spine at the sight.]
It'll... only be a moment.
[He's tight in the chest. Out of breath from transporting them? Or is this a panic response too real to hide from his Bonded? His fingers reach past the paper that still bears signs of being crumpled up, reaching for a bottle of pills. The alcohol can stay, but these, he would rather have. ]