[If Myr must be the voice of the inevitable that stalks them, so be it. (Those who bear false witness and seek to deceive others, know this: There is but one Truth.)]
You've known it was since he came through his mirror. A tidy, static life suits neither of you. The game's always only been a delaying action.
[He straightens, lifting his head with a jingling of charms. Would that he could look his Witch in the eyes and impress on him the utter futility of trying to manage the situation, prolong his current detente with Light.
Thus he can't hide his wince (nor the guilt-grief-pain in the Bond) when L mentions his near-death, and just who had been there to hold L's life in his hands.]
You know him better than I, [he admits, and does not say though I worry about the lens you see him through.] And you would know best the circumstances that would make him deem you a threat worth removing, rather than keeping close.
But, [quiet and inexorable,] consider also that he surely had that noose around your neck already back home. Here, you're an ally he can't afford to lose--and we've no evidence whatever that either of you killing the other would change the course of events you already know have happened.
You know how that game ends. What does it profit you to waste your time playing out the steps of it when you could have something better?
[It surprises him, internally, that there's not as much envy as he thought there would be in that suggestion. Something better does not, and may not, mean Myr himself. It is a broad spectrum (infinite) of possibilities where L does not have to end dead in a gutter or splitting his time between a meaningless life and a bottle.]
no subject
[If Myr must be the voice of the inevitable that stalks them, so be it. (Those who bear false witness and seek to deceive others, know this: There is but one Truth.)]
You've known it was since he came through his mirror. A tidy, static life suits neither of you. The game's always only been a delaying action.
[He straightens, lifting his head with a jingling of charms. Would that he could look his Witch in the eyes and impress on him the utter futility of trying to manage the situation, prolong his current detente with Light.
Thus he can't hide his wince (nor the guilt-grief-pain in the Bond) when L mentions his near-death, and just who had been there to hold L's life in his hands.]
You know him better than I, [he admits, and does not say though I worry about the lens you see him through.] And you would know best the circumstances that would make him deem you a threat worth removing, rather than keeping close.
But, [quiet and inexorable,] consider also that he surely had that noose around your neck already back home. Here, you're an ally he can't afford to lose--and we've no evidence whatever that either of you killing the other would change the course of events you already know have happened.
You know how that game ends. What does it profit you to waste your time playing out the steps of it when you could have something better?
[It surprises him, internally, that there's not as much envy as he thought there would be in that suggestion. Something better does not, and may not, mean Myr himself. It is a broad spectrum (infinite) of possibilities where L does not have to end dead in a gutter or splitting his time between a meaningless life and a bottle.]