[Myr's eating, now, too. L watches in his gaunt, forlorn way, because while seriously entertaining the notion of his tenderhearted Bonded poisoning him was traipsing a bit too far into the territory of pure make-believe, this does dash it beyond even the most creatively magical thinking.
Just bread, after all. Just breakfast, after all; a jarringly mundane backdrop for the feat of mental acrobatics Myr is asking someone so tired to perform.]
I believe there's a way to deal with monsters.
[L's particular definition, at least the way the magic translates it, excludes creatures as understood by Aefenglom, at least on that basis alone. On L's tongue, with his context, it carries a darker meaning: human or not, those who take, and steal, and devour, and prey. Those who sustain themselves in a selfish cycle of eating and excrement, and always at the pain and expense of others. His definition, of course, includes Niles, as well as himself.]
I think you want me to say that I can change, and adapt, and reform, but that isn't...
[Time has shown that he can't, that offerings of light and kindness and mercy have been wasted on him. Whether his better nature was butchered by Niles, along with his hands and his mouth, or he never actually had more than an imitation to begin with, he belongs in the dark and the dirt, right there with him. Myr does not.]
I still don't think you'll let me leave you alone.
[The Bond won't; by this point, L will cling as hard as Myr, feel the pain of rejection and inadequacy and severance, and grieve its loss more than rejoice at his Bonded's liberation. His reaction, before Niles' attack, might have been to choose a direction in the Cwyld and start walking until a monster killed him or his unbonded feet lifted from the substrate in a flash of blinding light. Now, it would be to turn that hopelessness, destruction, and chaos on the one person who deserved it just as much as he did, reveling in the equilibrium and release.
Myr knows that's in his heart, that he has the capacity for it. He won't let L, any more than he had let him walk out the door a few minutes ago to rush straight back to Niles, again.
Prison, or poison, then, seem like the choices available to a monster locked and committed into such a cycle. Already, he's thinking of how he can balance the two tolerably with the use of potions, neutering and declawing and reducing himself to something harmlessly occupied and requiring no more space than a cell. He can find Mello's old contacts, make a deal with what money and talents he has left, and make himself smaller.
The decision is as good as made, but he still keeps his eyes on Myr, curious in spite of his outlook to hear his Bonded's thoughts on the matter. Maybe they're his idea, with slight modifications; maybe it's a key to a door he's overlooked repeatedly for never having expected it to exist at all.]
no subject
Just bread, after all. Just breakfast, after all; a jarringly mundane backdrop for the feat of mental acrobatics Myr is asking someone so tired to perform.]
I believe there's a way to deal with monsters.
[L's particular definition, at least the way the magic translates it, excludes creatures as understood by Aefenglom, at least on that basis alone. On L's tongue, with his context, it carries a darker meaning: human or not, those who take, and steal, and devour, and prey. Those who sustain themselves in a selfish cycle of eating and excrement, and always at the pain and expense of others. His definition, of course, includes Niles, as well as himself.]
I think you want me to say that I can change, and adapt, and reform, but that isn't...
[Time has shown that he can't, that offerings of light and kindness and mercy have been wasted on him. Whether his better nature was butchered by Niles, along with his hands and his mouth, or he never actually had more than an imitation to begin with, he belongs in the dark and the dirt, right there with him. Myr does not.]
I still don't think you'll let me leave you alone.
[The Bond won't; by this point, L will cling as hard as Myr, feel the pain of rejection and inadequacy and severance, and grieve its loss more than rejoice at his Bonded's liberation. His reaction, before Niles' attack, might have been to choose a direction in the Cwyld and start walking until a monster killed him or his unbonded feet lifted from the substrate in a flash of blinding light. Now, it would be to turn that hopelessness, destruction, and chaos on the one person who deserved it just as much as he did, reveling in the equilibrium and release.
Myr knows that's in his heart, that he has the capacity for it. He won't let L, any more than he had let him walk out the door a few minutes ago to rush straight back to Niles, again.
Prison, or poison, then, seem like the choices available to a monster locked and committed into such a cycle. Already, he's thinking of how he can balance the two tolerably with the use of potions, neutering and declawing and reducing himself to something harmlessly occupied and requiring no more space than a cell. He can find Mello's old contacts, make a deal with what money and talents he has left, and make himself smaller.
The decision is as good as made, but he still keeps his eyes on Myr, curious in spite of his outlook to hear his Bonded's thoughts on the matter. Maybe they're his idea, with slight modifications; maybe it's a key to a door he's overlooked repeatedly for never having expected it to exist at all.]