[There is a razor edge of humor to Myr's tone, not meant to wound but made sharp by that threat of drowning in the emotions swamping their Bond. He is hardly in a fit state himself to weather the storm of L's dismay and upset, but there is no other recourse at the moment. That they've come to this perilous place is in no small part due to Myr's own neglect and withdrawal and it stands to him to fix it. But there are oh, so few tools left in his armamentarium and he is reduced to grasping at what he has; the bleak, black amusement of a man who'd seen half his friends winnowed before twenty is never far, all else failing.
Neither, though, is his innate need to draw his loved ones close when any of them are suffering; to fix and to tend whatever small things he is still competent for. He breathes out as much of his own distress as he can, puts his staff up, and holds out both hands to his Bonded.
(Having L flinch back from him mere moments ago hurt enough to make him wary, even if everything in him aches for an embrace.)]
Your Bonded walked away from you after witnessing the most shameful thing you've done in recent memory. You've likely not been eating or sleeping since then. Mello's gone and Niles isn't.
Shit accumulates. [A huff of a laugh punctuates the obscenity.] What was left to go wrong but I'd leave you? And that, at least, would've been final.
no subject
[There is a razor edge of humor to Myr's tone, not meant to wound but made sharp by that threat of drowning in the emotions swamping their Bond. He is hardly in a fit state himself to weather the storm of L's dismay and upset, but there is no other recourse at the moment. That they've come to this perilous place is in no small part due to Myr's own neglect and withdrawal and it stands to him to fix it. But there are oh, so few tools left in his armamentarium and he is reduced to grasping at what he has; the bleak, black amusement of a man who'd seen half his friends winnowed before twenty is never far, all else failing.
Neither, though, is his innate need to draw his loved ones close when any of them are suffering; to fix and to tend whatever small things he is still competent for. He breathes out as much of his own distress as he can, puts his staff up, and holds out both hands to his Bonded.
(Having L flinch back from him mere moments ago hurt enough to make him wary, even if everything in him aches for an embrace.)]
Your Bonded walked away from you after witnessing the most shameful thing you've done in recent memory. You've likely not been eating or sleeping since then. Mello's gone and Niles isn't.
Shit accumulates. [A huff of a laugh punctuates the obscenity.] What was left to go wrong but I'd leave you? And that, at least, would've been final.