[The wardrobe's options are sparse and all fairly worn. The best that can really be said for these clothes is that they're fairly clean, though they smell like L's typical aura of stale coffee and seem wrinkled in places. Half of the pieces are very stylish and tailored to L's strange and scrawny dimensions, but only by the standards of about a year ago when the SQUIP was still dressing L. The rest are fairly basic and boring, but at least somewhat classic and timeless. White button-up shirts, black and grey jackets, trousers in dark plaids and houndstooth. They also appear to have been purchased off the rack and unaltered, so the fit will be more universal (though L relies heavily on suspenders to keep cloth between his ass and the world.)
While Light is freshening up, L has a moment to himself for the first time since they met up at the Coven. The Bond is ever-present now, but easier to relegate to the background, especially when they're further apart, and he has the time and capacity to reflect on what, exactly, he's done by agreeing to Bond with Light Yagami.
He was wrong about the danger, perhaps. In Myr's nightmare, L had been chasing Light into a darkening sky, but the Sun rises in the east, now, enough to both smudge out some stars and melt some of the ice. A worthwhile trade, a welcome change from the darkness and frost, anyone would think so. And when they're above all of it, the stars and the answers are clearer than they ever were from the ground anyway. There's no immediate drawback or catch (though in time, perhaps that Leviathan could notice that the ice crust is thinner, and begin to dream of legs to walk the earth.) He's wanted this, even prayed for it in his way, but he can't shake the nightmare where his baffled Bonded had just wondered why.
It's not a question he can easily answer, or even parse for himself. But there's a sense that he doesn't need fixing or redemption anymore, that the problem was always that he was just missing a piece, and now, all can be revealed, and all can be well. He'll show Myr, through the gentle process of time, that this is a good thing. He'll be stronger for this, need less, have more to offer both his Bonded. Before, there was only one way to truly unburden Myr, and it was a tunnel with no light at the end littered with crumbs of failure and inadequacy, but now, he can be good in the ways he's truly the best. Those crumbs can be swept under the rug, because Light Yagami is in Aefenglom, and they never mattered to him. He's flawed too, also fatally so, just doesn't realize the extent of it. It's why he'll lose in the end, just... not yet. Not while they both demand the same grand things to the abandonment of lesser matters.
Is Myr one such "lesser matter?" The answer, at this moment in time and at this table, is an emphatic no... but Myr never deserved to be the sole focus of L's obsessive and inherently destructive attention. Myr can divide his time between multiple people he cares about, genuinely with no thoughts of favorites or preferences in spite of what L believes about his own capacity for being loved. This is just his opportunity to prove that he can do it, too, that he doesn't have to waste and exhaust and destroy everything he enjoys like a soft, sweet slice of cake that can only be eaten, or kept in a pastry case behind a protective pane of glass.
It represents the promise of balance and, at least in some way, self-sufficiency. L's worked through it to the point where he feels a wash of relief and triumph, assurance that it will be fine, though it's telling that he reached the conclusion with Light a room over, and not Myr.]
no subject
While Light is freshening up, L has a moment to himself for the first time since they met up at the Coven. The Bond is ever-present now, but easier to relegate to the background, especially when they're further apart, and he has the time and capacity to reflect on what, exactly, he's done by agreeing to Bond with Light Yagami.
He was wrong about the danger, perhaps. In Myr's nightmare, L had been chasing Light into a darkening sky, but the Sun rises in the east, now, enough to both smudge out some stars and melt some of the ice. A worthwhile trade, a welcome change from the darkness and frost, anyone would think so. And when they're above all of it, the stars and the answers are clearer than they ever were from the ground anyway. There's no immediate drawback or catch (though in time, perhaps that Leviathan could notice that the ice crust is thinner, and begin to dream of legs to walk the earth.) He's wanted this, even prayed for it in his way, but he can't shake the nightmare where his baffled Bonded had just wondered why.
It's not a question he can easily answer, or even parse for himself. But there's a sense that he doesn't need fixing or redemption anymore, that the problem was always that he was just missing a piece, and now, all can be revealed, and all can be well. He'll show Myr, through the gentle process of time, that this is a good thing.
He'll be stronger for this, need less, have more to offer both his Bonded. Before, there was only one way to truly unburden Myr, and it was a tunnel with no light at the end littered with crumbs of failure and inadequacy, but now, he can be good in the ways he's truly the best. Those crumbs can be swept under the rug, because Light Yagami is in Aefenglom, and they never mattered to him. He's flawed too, also fatally so, just doesn't realize the extent of it. It's why he'll lose in the end, just... not yet. Not while they both demand the same grand things to the abandonment of lesser matters.
Is Myr one such "lesser matter?" The answer, at this moment in time and at this table, is an emphatic no... but Myr never deserved to be the sole focus of L's obsessive and inherently destructive attention. Myr can divide his time between multiple people he cares about, genuinely with no thoughts of favorites or preferences in spite of what L believes about his own capacity for being loved. This is just his opportunity to prove that he can do it, too, that he doesn't have to waste and exhaust and destroy everything he enjoys like a soft, sweet slice of cake that can only be eaten, or kept in a pastry case behind a protective pane of glass.
It represents the promise of balance and, at least in some way, self-sufficiency. L's worked through it to the point where he feels a wash of relief and triumph, assurance that it will be fine, though it's telling that he reached the conclusion with Light a room over, and not Myr.]