Many a Hand Has Scaled the Grand Old Face of the Plateau [CLOSED]

[hearthebell]

Who: L (Linden Tailor) and Near (Eli Dagwood)
When: Around November 10
Where: The Coven, maybe somewhere afterward depending on how long the thread goes on
What: Bonding! Near's finally getting one.
Warnings: Robots pretending to be human idk




[From the beginning, L hadn't exactly fought the notion of a Bond with his successor. His reluctance was based on multiple factors of varying complexity; of course they are two separate men, but there's an argument to be made that they're the same entity at different points in time. As the past version of that entity, it feels deeply wrong for L to be too close to its current incarnation, the one whose star only rose because his own plummeted. Near was a person before the letter, after all, but L would have had no other name to reclaim once the title passed to someone else. It's a peculiar thing to know that he is both gone and immortal, and the Naga's dark, unblinking eyes are a constant and uncomfortable reminder that there is a future where the man is all but forgotten, but the legacy is eternal.

In Aefenglom, he has another name by necessity. Near, as well. It's been an experiment over months to establish identities outside of what made them, while still always maintaining a distant but certain orbit where the other is concerned. Orbits have a way of tightening over time when dynamic personalities are involved instead of planets, however, and today, L is staring down the realized prospect of being a three-Bond man, once more.

On paper, it's a compatible one. They have history, and are unlikely to crash into the same obstacles that had plagued L and Mello. The harmony isn't perfect, as it is with L and Light and as it would have been with Near and Mello... but there's promise in a shared and stronger voice, the memory of an identity powerful enough to devour those who wore it for any length of time.

Any present danger is quieter and colder. It's more difficult to define at the outset than Mello's blazes and fury. Two men who are defined largely by placid stoicism, after all, are hiding many things, and fleeting moments of vulnerability and honesty are about to become many by nature of being Bonded. They'll share more than they likely ever wanted to, and though L's instinct to protect Near goes as bone-deep as a parent's, all that Light represents sits lodged in his chest, a spear that will kill him eventually, but so much faster, if it's removed. It seems that those things, combined, have tremendous potential to complicate each other. Then again, perhaps they'll become more sustainable by nature of the balance Near offers by neatly capping off L's Bond combination. If Light is a nostalgic but treacherous past, and Myr is a kind and fair present, then Near represents the future, reassuring and anxious in equal measure.

Back home, L wore white. In Aefenglom, he's traded his simple and plain garments for more of the same in a far more somber palette, favoring blacks and greys, and that's how he turns up at the Circle, a few minuets early, to meet with the naga. This is essentially how he dresses for all occasions, from his work at the orphanage to the his leisure time to more important events like this one. It's consistent, anyway, and his decision to keep to what Near would know as typical could be intended as visual shorthand. If there's one thing he wants to inspire in his new Bond, slow to trust and slow to connect with others, it's that Near can rely on him to be a source of support and strength, rather than pure destructive upheaval or fragile liability.

L might judge a Bond with him to be an unfortunate thing, but Near had placed it above other prospects. Trusting Near's judgment means reconciling the attitudes in some manner, and so he waits.]

Comments

[oftheletter]

[For his part, Near is wearing some of the nicest clothing he has - but this isn't saying much. The number of times the man has really dressed up in his life can be counted on one hand, perhaps even one finger. He hasn't attended funerals, he has no good friends who've gotten married, and he sends other people to black tie affairs. His fashion is pajamas, day in and day out.

Here he's at least in a jacket and shirt that go down past his waste. It gives him a semblance of dignity even though there's nothing to hide. His scales do that for him.

He arrives the exact minute he was asked to be there. Timing is important. Early and late arrivals are saved for when mind games are involved, and this is far from the time for that. Today is for developing trust. There are few people here that deserve his. If he has to offer a hand to someone, it might as well be L.

This had been what he'd been trying to avoid from the beginning, yet here he is. No doubt this could be considered a loss with the right mindset. But there was no mystery to solve here. He chose to be picky. This place chose not to provide him what he wanted so now he's left to go with what he needs instead. He's not someone to sigh and believe that's just the way the world goes. There's always a reason.

Doing this now means he's allowed to be picky in the future without the weight of picking a bond over his head. He's free to never choose another again, granted that L doesn't disappear on him the way Mello had.

He nods to the other man when he slithers up to the door.]

I hope you haven't been waiting long.

[His tone is straightforward and not apologetic. He's arrived on time, after all.]

[hearthebell]

[What's nice on a relative level is significant. It's probably going to become a common recurring strand in their Bond, actually, the fact that they just prioritize differently than most other people, and the things that would impress or offend them are strange but, more often than not, more similar than different.]

Minutes.

[A yes, or a no? It's actually not clear... but neither of them were late. In Near's attention to the precise given time, and L's care to ensure that nothing about his more unpredictable day at the orphanage would hold him up, both express the important part of the foot they're starting this Bond on. In short, both Ls are breaking with their typical tradition and actually showing up for another person. It might even go beyond merely not having the option to send a proxy.

They probably would have, before their time here had demanded so much revelation and compromise.

The presiding witch greets them, with the special kind of warmth that tends to come out for witch-monster Bonds. Understood to be compatible and stable, blessings come fast and easily with the knowledge that it probably won't result in a city block getting taken out.]

Are you ready, Eli?

[Readiness hardly matters. This is necessary; Near needs a Bond, and L is the one who is here and willing, whose continued presence since the first wave of Mirrorbound offers some sort of promise of stability in spite of the detective's various brushes with fate. Being Bonded to him might be punishing and exasperating, but if the past is any sort of predictor, L's mirror doesn't want him back.

History, commitment, and identity are also powerful factors. Blood relatives they are not, but... they share a name and experienced the same isolated existence. They were both more human than that existence led others to believe, and navigating this Bond will require mutual dedication to each others' high expectations, but also the unpracticed grace it will take to give the other one permission to breathe and bleed. Having both been the effigy, after all, they are both in on the lie, and perhaps beholden to it in spite of proclaimed self-awareness.

He takes the first steps, into the circle proper. Near is not a poet or a romantic in any sense of the words; L likewise isn't, and has no florid speech prepared, but he feels there's some importance to a verbal affirmation at the very least. Vows, after all, are more than promises to those committing to walk a path together. They intend, at least, to set expectations, and Near deserves to hear, from L's own lips, what he believes he can offer, where's he's sure he falls short, and so many other things he died before he could say.

Some of them don't matter now. Near has grown beyond them, reached those conclusions and learned those lessons himself in the years after his predecessor's passing. Offering trite advice would only be patronizing, and Near is, as they have already established, not Mello.

Mello had continued to put him on a pedestal. Mello had jealously clung to him, threatened others who came close, and, finally, damaged what he'd sworn to protect after trampling the boundaries L had pleaded for. L had said, from the outset, that they needed to be peers in their Bond, but just as he feels no real need to head off all the ways Near could punish him for not living up to the exalted idol, he sees Near as an equal already. Perhaps he has since he learned of the Kira case's outcome, and understanding that Near succeeded him for ten years and survived cements it.]

You needn't feel obligated to say any words, but I'd like to, if you'll humor me.

[oftheletter]

[Should he stand in silence and say nothing? What an awkward ceremony that would be, however tempting it is to follow through. Near is good with explaining theories and letting others know exactly why they're wrong, but he fails spectacularly when it comes to sentimentality. His words will be brief, to the point. He hasn't come prepared with wedding vows.

Of course L knows this. He's being given permission to be himself. Knowing that his mentor is about to put his feelings into words could spur Near into better wrangling his thoughts too - but it doesn't. He would prefer a ceremony more like the potion exchange. One of them does something, then the other, then it's over. However this is a bond for life (or however long they're here for) and that's never going to be as simple to set up as a temporary bond meant to last a day.

He'll think of a follow-up. L's words will give him something to bounce off of. For now, he nods his head.]

I'm ready. Go on.

[It's permission to say whatever L feels he needs to say. Near at least owes him the time, considering he'll be putting up with him for the rest of their stay here.]

[hearthebell]

[Even by generous standards taking into account the personalities of both men, this will be an awkward ceremony. There's just no getting around it. But L didn't come prepared with vows, either; what he says is very off the cuff and things he considered on the spot, though the paradox of L rather makes it seem like he's thought about it all for far longer. His soft-spoken eloquence has that effect.]

I left you with a big mess to clean up. Knowing what it's like to clean up messes, and to do it largely alone, I'd hoped that you would at least have someone at your side.

[So many years ago, by Near's reckoning. Does it even make sense to reference it? But they both know how it ended; they both know what Mello chose. He'd walked away from Near in their world, and given the chance to heal that old scar, he'd vanished from Aefenglom after fixating on L to the point of harm.]

I'll do what I couldn't, before, and commit to being at your side, now. You always thought and expected less of me than the others, and I appreciate that I can offer all of what I have to give without running the risk of overpromising. Just as you know what you're getting, I want you to know that whatever you bring to this Bond is enough. I hope that I can learn from you as long as our partnership lasts.

[oftheletter]

[L talks, and Near's gaze remains focused away from him. He's not staring at anything in particular, just a space on the wall high enough to keep his eyes off the floor. His finger twists in his long hair enough to make knots, though being adept at said hair-twisting no knots actually form.

No one talks to him this way. He doesn't want it. He's older than L now. The Kira case is over. All issues with him are, for the most part, long past. Being reminded of them is dredging up thoughts and feelings he'd rather not ever have again. This is, in a way, an apology he didn't ask for.

But this is basically how he'd expected the man to act, so there's no sense in being awkward about it,

He'd done what he had to, and needn't complain to anyone about the handicap he started out with but himself. If he couldn't put the pieces together on his own then he didn't deserve to be able to solve the case. He'd anticipated having to work on his own from the start. Mello had contributed enough. He'd contributed the most important piece of the puzzle, and maybe that's all he ever could have asked of him.

Near can't close his eyes, so he finally drags them away from the spot he'd had them fixated on so he can stare at the man he's forming his bond with.]

... That's a bit much. But I appreciate your sentimentality.

[hearthebell]

[L had framed it, in his mind, like a particularly earnest statement of intent when entering into a business arrangement. Having it called sentimental catches him off guard; while it was intended as an apology, of sorts, has he already made his Bonded uncomfortable?

The mask is off, now. This is the beginning of far more discomfort, considering they'll have entered into a permanent Bond after a few more moments. He considers letting Near know that he can still back out of this, but... ah. No, they wouldn't be here, if the other man (he can no longer say the younger man) still had a choice in the matter. It's L, or no one. Misery, or more misery. Already prone to stark self-awareness to the point of deprecation, L believes this Bond will be difficult for Near, in some of the same ways a Bond with Mello was difficult, though the balance isn't identical.

Balance, in the end, is so important. He's said what he wanted to, whether or not Near wanted or needed to hear it; let it be seen as passive, unthreatening availability, rather than an eager overture, a plan to act or possess or conquer. That's what had killed L's Bond with Mello, what may have killed Mello's with Near, had it been allowed to proceed. Was it for the best, in spite of the gaping lack of closure his disappearance had caused both of them? Is L's unpalatable sentimentality worthy of contempt, or a pale shadow, the next best thing?

It's honest. Maybe that's what makes it strange; maybe that's what's creating this palpable sense of unease. The man standing in the circle with Near has changed little, physically, from the man who died in 2004's late autumn with rainwater still soaking his hair. But he's been Bonded to Myr for a year; before that, he was Bonded to Mello, and before that, he was Bonded to a powerful supercomputer. All of them have changed him, and now his face is finally starting to show signs of aging. Fine lines where he's smiled, winced; lines where he's stayed a course, or strayed, and changed. The result leaves him looking faded and worn, but somehow more self-assured; he means it when he says that he hopes he can learn from Near. He is no longer so small and petty a creature that his place at the top, as the world's greatest, is the entirety of his identity.]

Thank you.

[Equally earnest, whether or not Near was sincere. L meant it when he had invited Near to come as he was, after all; L is entering into this Bond without pretense or expectation. Near doesn't expect L to be God, and that, truly, is enough for the detective.

The presiding witch goes ahead with the ceremony. Since L Bonded with Light, the state of his soul has changed; the edges of the frost and the ice have melted with the arrival of a golden sunrise. There are signs of life in the evergreen forest, restless movement and stirring branches; the lake's surface is broken occasionally by a massive, ridged back peeling through the loosened ice floats. It sits between soothing and deeply unsettling; the ice, after all, was frozen for such a long time. The ice was serving a purpose, keeping something horrible contained...

But the sun is so warm and bright.]

[oftheletter]

[There's nothing else Near can offer in return. He has no speech to put together to describe his feelings on the matter. Feelings in general have never been his strong suit. He distances himself from others not out of a lack of concern, not because he doesn't want to put them at risk with what could be a dangerous line of work, but because he simply doesn't want to deal with them. One or two obedient people, that's all he needs.

Except that he doesn't have that here, and he most likely never will. So he has to make other decisions. Would that he could walk out of here and forget he'd ever considered going through with this bond - but he can't. And now that L has attached himself to Light it's even more important that he do so. Someone will have to keep an eye on them, as though they're two unruly children still playing a dangerous game. Because he can't trust L to handle it alone. His side of things is still too unresolved. Light represents an unfortunate temptation.

He would walk away from all of it if he could, but he can't. Instead he nods back to L, thoughts hidden behind unblinking red eyes.]

I'm ready.

[Of course he fears the potential openness this bond may allow. There are many things he simply doesn't want to share and he knows the bond will loosen his restraints in regards to what he shares with the one he's bonded too. Unfortunately, it's a necessary risk.

They're both adults now. They're both men who've suffered failures. He can handle this.]

[hearthebell]

[Once they're Bonded proper, will it change? Will L actually feel more of what passes through Near's peculiar prism, or discover that it's nothing at all?

No... he knows already that there's something there. From glimpses he's gotten before into the naga's subconscious, their past temporary Bond. Just because it's deep doesn't mean it's not there; just because it's faint doesn't mean it's invalid. Is it just a matter of building a home safe enough for Near to feel he can venture into?

L isn't the man for this. He's the man for playing childish games with a rival, requiring a minder to ensure it doesn't kill him before his time.

As the ceremony continues and concludes, Near will begin to feel the presence of the other mind and the worlds it contains. His stars are still there, but dimmed and faded by the presence of his other Bonds. While L's head is and has always been a clandestine place, it was hungry for other presences without even knowing it. It benefits from what they offer and give him; his stars might be fewer, at least the visible ones, but his constellations are more. Past the lake and the ice, there are even little isolated dots in the distance, suggesting campfires, companionship, signs of purpose and civilization. Nothing, of course, compared to Mello's incandescent blazes... but a form, at least, of what Near requires for balance.

A Bond, at least, might represent the end of the awkward silences between them. Perhaps comfort will manifest there, now... but L would never dream of failing to give Near credit for being staunchly awkward, nor would he penalize the other man. There's what's said, and indicated, and done. What's done is what he can trust most, with his third and final partner.]

[oftheletter]

[When they had bonded temporarily before, Near had been desperate. The desire to run wild, to slither off into the forest and never return, had been eating away at his mind. He'd been losing himself in a way he'd never expected to. It was a sort of madness most humans would never experience without some sort of magical outside interference.

It hadn't been nearly that bad yet. Not this time around. L's earlier aid had given him more time. He'd begun to feel it, of course, that familiar clawing at the edges of his brain. That feral part of him wanted to return, and perhaps this time it would have been worse. He won't know now, thankfully. If he's fortunate he'll never have to deal with it again.

But he hadn't realized how much it had been affecting him as it was. When the bond is officially sealed his shoulders visibly relax. There's a minute or so where his breathing is slightly heavier, as though he'd been holding in something painful and had just been allowed to let it go. He wants to wrap his arms around himself, to hold that new warmth in place in fear that it might escape and leave him if he loses focus.

He doesn't. His arms remain where they had been. He can't so visibly show how much he's being affected. Not here with their extra audience, even if that audience is a singular individual and is likely used to seeing this sort of thing happen on a daily basis.

Though for all that he wants to keep it hidden, his reaction is still quite visible. There's no way around it. He also knows that his relief should be able to be felt through the new bond. He does nothing to hide it. L deserves to know at least that much. When they're gone from here perhaps he'll shiver. Perhaps he'll show more than that he's shown now. But not yet.]

[hearthebell]

[Near's far too smart to think he could live on borrowed time, forever. They both know it, but the visible change in the Naga's posture is a tangible sign that it's been acknowledged.

Would Near benefit from going somewhere quiet and shouting to the sky until his lungs give out? L considers the nature of the deep repression, relates to part of it... but he's at least half of whatever drives and possesses Mello. He only fully understands around half of what drives and possesses Near. They're the pure beings, aren't they, and he the mongrel? Unglamorous, but not without some advantages and versatility.]

We should go.

[To some ears, it might sound abrupt. To Near's, it might well sound like a welcome out. Additionally, over the Bond are offered suggestions of not immediately parting ways and the offer of a meal, more time and proximity to let the new Bond settle.]

[oftheletter]

[There will be no shouting on Near's end. He's not sure his body is even capable of raising his voice to that degree. He does nod his head in response to L's comment. The less emotion he can show in front of anyone else in this hall, the better.

They don't know him. They don't get to see that.

Despite these thoughts, a scaled hand reaches out to grasp one of L's. Just until they leave. Just until this feeling of vulnerability lessens somewhat. Childishly, he keeps his eyes turned away, as if the physical contact doesn't exist as long as he's not looking at it.

He continues to remain silent. Any number of things could come through in his tone, so he chooses not to give his feelings the opportunity to embarrass him further.]

[hearthebell]

[They're Bonded. That's sharing something close, inherently, but L doesn't expect Near to reach out for his hand. It seems simultaneously devoid of pretense, and nothing but; either way, L's hand in the naga's is a hard dead thing for a few moments, before it offers a slight, reassuring squeeze in return.

He can't sweep away the embarrassment he registers broadly and dimly through the Bond. He believes that supporting or refuting the emotion would both be ill-received, because it's an acknowledgment that it has been felt and, worse, noticed.

Eyes forward, he permits Near distance in the way he signals, considers avenues of normalcy. Near isn't like Mello, or even like L and Light; a restless desire to kill boredom does not rule him. But control, in some capacity, has a hold on every single one of them, even it it manifests differently in their individual priorities.

L takes his, in the form of initiative. Off, then. A few short words of perfectly cordial thanks to the presiding witch, and he leads his Bonded away from the circle. More space, more distance where it can be taken... but even when they're miles apart, the two of them won't have it from each other anymore, or desire it to nearly the extent that they will desire closeness, perhaps in spite of themselves.

It almost feels like it warrants an apology, but L can't give one. To feel that a Bond with him is a worthless and even damaging influence might not be something he can ever truly shake, but a warning was his due diligence. Mello took his ongoing apology too far; that can never happen again, with anyone, but especially with a successor.

If he can't at least behave like he has a right to exist this way, it'll be next to impossible to convince Near that he does.

When they're far enough, and the silence should be broken, L initiates that, too.]

I don't know what nagas like to eat.

[Pragmatic. Probably best to ease into what's too heavy for either of their slight frames to carry.]

[oftheletter]

Meat.

[It's an easy answer, for as much as he hadn't cared for it at the start. He's come to terms with it now, and because of the bond he won't be tempted to chase anything down any time in the near future.

To have this be the first word he says after that experience is a bit awkward, but it's something.

Near can unhinge his jaws if he wants. His mouth stretches open to accommodate this, but he doesn't ever do it. It's too unsightly. On top of that, he's still of the belief that nagas are a creation that belies proper physics. No being should exist in this form. He refuses to swallow anything whole just to let it pass through his human-like torso. The thought is an uncomfortable one.

Raw meat is still the best, though. Cooked meat will do for polite company. Plants are too difficult to digest.

Now that he's broken his silence, it's easier to continue. He lets himself be taken over by a full-body shudder, but afterwards he seems more at ease. Less ready to fly out of his own skin.]

I apologize for my reaction. And lack of. Both.

[hearthebell]

[Not surprising, all things considered. Snakes are carnivorous. L is decidedly not, but even if he exists in a state of chronic malnourishment that leaves him pale and languid, he will not die quickly by eliminating entire food groups. It's something of a luxury to forego what he finds distasteful, along with much of what witches are permitted to retain along with their human bodies. Monsters don't have that luxury; Near does not have that luxury.

He nods his understanding, and Near's insight to his thought process through their Bond might reveal the shuffle of a deck of cards, the places L knows of to find food, and the undesirable options sloughing away from the rest to narrow down the options. Most are places he's avoided or tried to steer away from, but he can, and must, temper his finicky tastes for his Bonded's necessity. At worst, he'll just wait to eat, or order dessert for himself.

His glances flicks sidelong at the naga's noticeable shudder.]

You don't need to worry about that, with me. I won't hold either of those things against you. What you want from this Bond should be on your time, and at your pace and comfort.

[What L wants from the Bond remains unclear. The obligation is a powerful undercurrent, much as it was with Mello, as well as a desire to set something wrong right, but if he feels he has the right to ask Near for anything, he hasn't voiced it.]

[oftheletter]

[Near has fed himself just fine so far. He might have had helpers do everything for him in the past, but he's been surviving on a basic level fairly well here so far. He has his own place of business and everything. If not for the problems brought about by not having a bond he wouldn't be in this situation at all.

It's not that he minds others looking out for him, but he also doesn't need L treating him as a child he has to look after. If he wanted a chance at that he missed it a long time ago. Still, he won't make assumptions here - at least not out loud. Making quiet assumptions is what he's based a career off of.

If anyone owes anyone anything, he knows he's in L's debt. The other man might not think of it that way, but he already has other bonds. He didn't need Near's to get by. The naga, on the other hand, has little other choice. He won't be able to let this stand, as much as he'd like to go on back to his own affairs and ignore L's existence aside from their magical connection.]

Then I don't need anything for now. Just space.

[He says as though he wasn't holding the other man's hand a few moments ago.]

[hearthebell]

["Survival", alone, was never one of L's very highest priorities. He felt hunger, of course, but food was nudged down on that list by the desire to chase thrills, challenges, the next victory, and then finally someone who could (and did) destroy him. He was no more a hero or a martyr than any addict finally overdosing on his chosen vice.

His life is one more piece on the chessboard where something even higher is king, or that was true, when he'd died by no less than a manipulated god's hand. Though circumstances are different in Aefenglom, he grapples with that attitude, the constant pros and cons of his life's worth compared to what its loss could buy. Freedom and peace, for the long-suffering Myr, who fell into a trap by loving him. Someday, perhaps, a way to lock Light in a tomb forever and remain there with him, but Bonding with Near has complicated that.

Ironically, for one who rose to his position directly as a result of the detective's death in their own world, he can think of no way the loss of his life would benefit Near. In fact, as the only person who can apparently tolerate the Naga enough to entertain the notion of a Bond, it's out of the question. For better or worse, having Near's best interests at heart means that a last-resort gambit always available to him, through his willingness to sacrifice a piece for an ultimate victory, is suddenly impossible.

The weight of suddenly having to prioritize survival is sinking in gradually, with every step, in a way it never has with any of his other Bonds. Myr is too good for him, filling his pockets with guilty stones. Light is rotten, like him, inspiring exciting and deplorable tactics he will carve into his soul knowing they spell damnation. Near is... a conundrum, because while there was something nasty in his eyes as a child, suggesting that he could do L's job someday, he's not Kira. He doesn't deserve the misery Myr chose, and Light has had coming since he first drew the attention of a famously brilliant and arrogant detective.

His steps scuff and slow for a moment alongside the Naga's smooth glide.]

I understand.

[Defiance doesn't compel what he says next, so much as a strange desperation.]

In that case, I'll buy you something, and you can take it home. You need to let me, because Bonds aren't arbitrary or meaningless.

[Near might dislike him, or even be indifferent to him, but he's hung a weight around his neck, to survive and put that before revenge or art or even compassion. It's heavy, and he must swim up in spite of it.

What he wants from his Bond with Near is growing clearer. As long as Near does need him, he is not allowed to treat him like something obsolete.

Through the Bond, the other man will notice the other cards falling away, leaving a clear goal and destination in L's mind. It's one he's given a wide berth in the past, but the sign stands out clear: Butcher.]

[oftheletter]

[Near makes a light noise that's something between irritation and acquiescence. The expression on his face remains the same, but only because he has no eyelids to narrow in further deadpan.]

If that's what you feel you need to do.

[Whether it's a gift or whether L thinks he has difficulty taking care of himself doesn't matter. His bonded wants to prove something by buying him a meal, so he'll let him. The other man isn't going to expect anything in return. He knows this. So he won't feel as though he'll need to return the favor afterward.

Whatever issues L has in regards to his previous position as his mentor are his to deal with. Near has, for the most part, dealt with those feelings long ago. Though seeing him here has certainly started to dredge some back up, as much as he attempts to ignore them.

He doesn't seek to feel much through their connection at this point beyond what it provides on its own. That sense of balance is enough for now.]

Please don't go overboard. I've very small and meat only keeps so long.

[hearthebell]

[What L needs to do is, on any given day, not always straightforward or simple. Near's probably at least close to parsing his reasons for it; it's not so much that he believes that Near has problems taking care of himself, though his expectations from his own time fulfilling the position might make it understandable. It's more that years of isolation, in close quarters with one other human being who was father and confidante, taught L that duty and caring for someone was insisting that they eat.

Most people beyond casual acquaintanceship with L want him to eat more. It's veritably Myr's love language. That he still believes it's the way to demonstrate care and duty might also be understandable.]

I can't go overboard.

[He says this like it's actually absurd.]

You're coming with me... just tell the butcher what you want, and I'll buy it.

[Though Near might sense his distaste for proximity to meat through the Bond, he'll also be able to sense his determination, at least in equal measure.]

[oftheletter]

[L in a butcher shop is an odd mental image. If it's uncomfortable for the man he's not too surprised. It doesn't seem like a place he would frequent often, if ever.

Near prefers his meat raw, but it doesn't have to be.] If it will be easier, just go to the market and we can get something already cooked.

[Considering he didn't ask for this in the first place, there's no point in making L go somewhere he'd rather not be. With one of his usual underlings he would have insisted - but this is his bond. L doesn't work for him. He isn't getting paid and he's already done enough.

He knows the comment won't get him anywhere, but at least he offered the choice.]

[hearthebell]

[It's not to L's taste... but while Near might not know the details, beyond broad primal suggestions through their Bond, L has actually personally experienced worse than standing in a shop where the temperature is cool and the scent of blood is detectable.]

Not easier, particularly. We're closer to the butcher, and it will be less crowded than the market.

[Everyone as finicky as L has discomforts he is willing to trade for lesser ones. At least, if they are semi-functioning within society. L suspects it's true for Near, as well.]

I don't mind. Really.

[It's a complicated feeling. There's the undertone, of course, the notion that the experience is one he knows he will find immensely distasteful. But the overtone is brighter and louder; he wants to provide for his Bonded and make his life less inconvenient, in some small way. Near is the future; Near is entitled to protection and consideration that L doesn't even bother with for himself.

If Light is where he keeps his pleasure, and Myr is where he keeps his soul, Near perhaps brings out the plaintive and struggling adult who never properly had a chance, before. It's a problem, of course, that Near is older. He could interpret L's efforts as patronizing, but perhaps it also works in L's favor, that Near is older; it means that Near understands what it's like, closer than any other person he's encountered. Mello wanted it, yes, to the point where he was willing to destroy a great deal, but Near lived it, whether or not he particularly wanted it.]

[oftheletter]

This should not become a habit.

[He's accepting it now because it's what L wants while their bond is so fresh. He won't let the man continue to do this after the fact. (Or at the very least, he will continue to protest.)]

I... do appreciate the concern.

[Mostly. Sometimes he still feels such things from his mentor are too little too late. But this place changes people. Near himself has already had to do more fending for himself than he ever had to do back in his own world. That makes actions like these feel even more like a step backward.]

[hearthebell]

[There's a moment of quiet thought and appraisal as L considers how the scales are currently balanced, who is heavier, or rather, whose demand is more unreasonable.

L wants, as close as he can gather from an admittedly biased perspective, to care and provide for a Bonded who represents a truncated future for everything he built. Their upbringings and educations were not so different; their careers were similar, to the point where their work on the same case overlapped, Near starting strong as L's part in the case faded out with an imposter's signature.

The concern that Near appreciates is real. But L sits in a tangled and messy heap of problems he created, selfish impulses that overrode good judgment, and scars upon scars that have collected beyond the point of his death in their world.

Mello hated him. In spite of every declaration that it was love and devotion undying, Mello hated him. Mello would have killed him, eventually, just as Beyond would have killed him. The insult of existing alongside him would have won out, in the end. L finds it harder to breathe, because while Near does force him to swim up, is there a secret hope that he might drown? Drowning would secure Kira's victory, cut Myr loose mournfully but without further complication, and...

...No, he really does need me.

He's not drowning. It's exertion; it's effort. It's unlike the effort he expends for Myr's sake, because that, at least, comes with some touch of sweetness to take away the bone-deep exhaustion.

Does Near want distance? Or a human connection? Nothing but a contract, or acknowledgment that he has struggled and failed and survived in spite of everything? There's dissonance, regardless. L has never seen Near as more of an equal, which is perhaps why he's going to such great (if childishly simple) lengths to prove commitment... but is it all backfiring? Is Near viewing L's grasp on this as an insult, or worse, frailty or stupidity?

Nonsense. He's considered you both frail and stupid for quite some time, now.]

Do you think that you could...

[Just end this, if that's your goal? I beat Beyond, and let Mello take too much, but you could actually win.

Drowning, or effort? L's next inhalation is a little too sharp, but shallow enough that any not Bonded to him wouldn't notice.]

Could you tell me what you would appreciate, and what would disturb or annoy you? We are connected.

[On the very level of their souls, they are connected. Whether it's a boon or a burden to both of them, that's true, now.]

If you would prefer for me to stay out of your way, I'm happy to try, but that connection is always going to get in the way of that. You can let me do favors, to feel connected to you, or...

[He has to stop associating Near and Mello. It isn't accurate; it isn't fair. Is this desperately transactional appeasement strategy a ploy to keep the same thing from happening again, even though Near is too indifferent to him to kill him? The logic that as long as no one is owed, no one can come to collect?

Is he just invested enough to watch me struggle, but not invested enough to throw me a buoy?

No, Near doesn't owe him a buoy. Near doesn't owe him a damn thing. Near probably doesn't even think of him that often; keep kicking then.]

If I can't be more than a tether to sanity for you, I have little doubt that will reveal itself in time. But mediocrity offends me; it's in my nature to try, and I know it's in yours, as well.

[Why did you try? It's the question that goes unasked, but poised at the edge of L's brain. Were Near truly passionless, Matt would have outranked him at Wammy's. Were Near truly uncompetitive, he would have ceded the contest to Mello, who he liked, for wanting it more.]

[oftheletter]

[What else does L want him to be? L's place is that of the fallen mentor. Near has long been used to thinking of him in the past - as an example to follow only to a point. Someone he would never have the ability to see in person ever again.

Now that he's here, even after allowing himself to give in and become bonded to him, he finds that he's not entirely sure what to do about their relationship (if it can even be called that) or what to think of the man in general. His mental image is an old, hazy shadow of the person he's met here. The two don't match up. He'd told Light on that final day that he and Mello together were equal to their mentor. But now he has a hard time seeing either himself or his rival in his new bondmate.

Ultimately he knows that his viewpoint is a biased one. Knowing the history of someone is completely different from meeting them in person, or even hearing their garbled voice over a recording. He'd always been somewhat jealous of Mello for what interaction he'd had with L prior to his death, as much as he'd like to believe he was unaffected by it.

And he has a chance to be close to him now. It's basically an obligation. But what are they to be? Friends? In his whole life, Near isn't sure he's ever had someone he could truly call a friend. His employees were simply that. The closest he'd gotten had probably been his rival - and the man hated him. He doesn't know how to be friends with anyone, much less someone he spent all of his childhood looking up to.

Of course it's in his nature to try - if he cares. Near has generally had the luxury of picking his battles, ignoring the cases he has no interest in the same way L claimed to. Does he want this sort of relationship now, is the question.

And the answer is no. But sometimes he will press past what he thinks he wants to do what he knows he should do - if not because it's the right thing to do, but because it's the best thing for him.]

You are not my caretaker.

[He wants to make this clear from the start.]

If giving like this makes you happy then I can't stop you, but I won't appreciate you giving beyond your means. It's unnecessary. Aside from that... [He doesn't know, which are words he never wants to say out loud.] This sort of relationship is new to me. I will have to adjust.

[hearthebell]

[Being alive is pesky and difficult, some days. In the context of Near's story and his life, L is the fallen mentor. It's the height of audacity to continue living after he lost, fair and square, and shrugged the mantle off along with the mortal coil. What he had and was should all belong to his heir, and if anything was lost between them, it wasn't love.

L came first, mined what life had to offer for secrets and the incidental riches that came along with them, and then Near lifted his dropped pickaxe when at some indeterminate point, he stepped into the darkness and didn't return.

Why do you swing? Why do you strike true?

Why did you try.]

Every bond is different, and so... this is new to me, as well.

[He's meeting Near where he's at, or trying. He doesn't need to be told what he's not; he knows, the way a hollow, rotted tree does not grow, blots out the sun for all in its hulking shadow, nourishes only fungus.

He has grown a bit, and nourished a bit in his time here... but so little, compared to some. It's an underwhelming return for someone used to being the best, unaccustomed to meeting any who could even dream of contending.

Near's use of the word "unnecessary," in place of "unacceptable" or similar, is something L turns over in his mind and examines. Near can do for himself; Near dismisses waste and excess and dislikes its disproportionate focus on him.

Near has a Bond he wanted, to the last, to also consider unnecessary. It's an inconvenience to him that he needs one at all, perhaps more so because it is a fallen mentor who will heal nothing, fix nothing, nourish nothing, so long as his audacity persists. It's in L's nature to try, if only because without a purpose to drive him, he is unnecessary, on top of being obsolete, perhaps even useless.]

I want to actively help you; that's important to me.

[As more than an effigy to be ignored, adored or destroyed as it suited his successor.]

If a Bond with me is going to be nothing but a burden, then I've already failed you... so, yes. Until you think of something else, it does make me happy to give like this.

[At least, in the closest sense that L ever is happy. Feeling productive, useful, and able go a long way, even though listless melancholy dominates his baseline mood, noticeably and sometimes heavily, through all his Bonds.

Rounding a corner alongside Near, he starts down a new street. No shortage of shops here; mostly bakeries and delis, with the occasional cafe. Fish and meat storefronts will be a bit further on.]

[oftheletter]

Don't make more of my reaction than it is.

[L is an analyzer. They both are. But where Near observes from a distance, scrutinizing issues through a microscope so he sees every detail without directly laying hands on it, L takes a more hands-on approach. This also means, it appears, that he deals with issues more personally. There are whole levels of emotion underneath that wide-eyed but only mildly expressive continence.

In that, the connection to Mello becomes more apparent. The blond threw everything out into the open. L simply kept his behind glass. Is that why he'd been more willing to share stories with his rival - because he'd been able to provide a reaction that Near could not?]

There's no need to speak about burdens and failures. We've only just bonded.

[And what he picks up through this bond is more complicated than Mello's. There was a sort of simplicity to the barrage of emotions from the other man that is distinctly lacking here.]

[hearthebell]

Sorry.

[The apology is soft, easy, detached. The problem continues to turn itself over and over in his mind, indeed as if a pair of hands are examining the texture, looking for edges, rough spots, and cracks.

It's relentless, as L is relentless, and doggedly joyless, as he struggles with interpersonal matters. A Rubik's cube falling apart in his fingers, something he's better at breaking than solving.

Money, food. Feeding, fed. Living just a little longer. The approach one might use to keep a snake alive in a terrarium, but... whatever his new Bond needs, that will nourish him on a deeper level, is something L grapples to discern, almost on a literal level. The determination seizes, fixates, holds, more powerful than anything the spindly man is capable of physically.

He nods absently, almost dreamily, at direct odds with what's going on in his head. Better, perhaps, to actually let that Bond settle, some silence to allow it to take root and hold and give him more of a substrate to grip into, instead of grasping at pine needles, treading water.

Unless Near breaks the silence, they'll make it to the butcher shop presently. Hanging carcasses in the back and presented cuts in the glass case up front, it sets all of L's senses off in disgusted revulsion. He's good at hiding it; at least, he's not outwardly holding himself any more strangely than he usually does.

Meat's expensive and he's not exactly flush with cash, but this won't break him unless Near wants an entire lamb or something.]

It can't all be the same to you; don't you have a preference?

[oftheletter]

[Near would not actually turn away a whole lamb as long as he had a way to carry it back home. He has a hyena dog to feed as well. Transport, however, is always the problem. This goes completely unmentioned because he doesn't want L to feel obligated to do more than he already is.

He doesn't think about his food preferences much until the food is right in front of him. He can be picky once given a choice. So it is here, as he slithers up toward the counter.

He looks over the cuts presented, tongue tasting the air in slower, contemplative darts. A scaled finger twists in his hair as if this is as much of a riddle as anything he's had to solve in his various cases.

Finally the naga seems to have made up his mind, and he gestures to a thick, mottled cut of beef.]

This. The shoulder cut.

[It's nothing particularly fancy, but it looks the most appetizing.]

[hearthebell]

[Immediately, L's mind sets to work analyzing just what it is about this cut, this animal, this meat that makes it something Near would prefer, and what it says about him.

Is it particularly symmetrical? Particularly fresh? The color or the marbling particularly even, the cow grass-fed and healthy? He steps forward, staring, squinting, as though trying to figure out what makes this one chosen, and not just a piece of blood and flesh that can provide Near with something he needs.

Sometimes, when an answer fails to melt through under the heat of L's intense focus, it actually means there isn't one. He raises a hand to iron out the ache between his eyes with his index and middle finger, digging into his pockets for loose bills and coins. The man doesn't carry a billfold; he probably should.

His mind is far more organized, though it might not look that way to one outside, even a Bonded. This information is filed away, and Near can look forward to receiving more cuts similar to this one in the future. He nods briskly to the butcher as he starts wrapping the cut in clean white paper, setting the seemingly random assortment of cune denominations on the counter.]

[oftheletter]

[Near hates handling money. Too many others have handled it before him. It's a necessary evil here where credit cards don't exist, though the people who do get to deal with accepting payment from the naga will often have to wait for him to place individual bills and coins on the counter with a pair of large tweezers. This world is behind, technology-wise. Who knows how often the people here wash their hands.

Seeing the money just stuffed in L's pockets as it is causes him to frown slightly, but he says nothing about it. The other man is paying for his food, after all.

He catches that gesture as well.]

You're overthinking again.

[Well, it doesn't help to be rude.]

But thank you. [Again.]

[hearthebell]

[Near's flat admonishment (no; it's just an observation) causes something to flare and snap, like a popped lightbulb subjected to too much wattage. For a moment, everything from his breath to his fingers counting out the cune are out of synch, and then it all manages to regulate.]

You'd prefer if I didn't?

[And that surprises him to some degree, though... perhaps it shouldn't. Mello was always watching him, looking for small miracles, confirmation and proof that he was the larger-than-life figure he'd idolized for so long. It stands to reason that Near would desire no such thing; the miracles lose their luster, after all, after someone learns all the tricks behind them.]

...you're welcome.

[Sincere; more like a thanks, in its own right. Near reciprocating, accepting that L's intentions at the very least are good, is a start.

He steps back to allow the naga to take the wrapped parcel, sensing that offering to carry it might be a bit much even by the standards of his warped overachieving streak.]

Let me walk you home?

[L has an advantage, in that he actually looks a bit too shabby to rob. In spite of the much nicer clothing Light purchased for him, the way he wears it, along with his general grooming, don't suggest refinement or wealth.]

[oftheletter]

You'll do what you want, no matter what I say. As you should. [The fact that they're bonded doesn't mean he can tell L what to do, despite any attitude he might have about their relationship. He can state his preferences and let the man go from there.] I'm merely pointing that out.

[Near can be both a very simple and a very difficult individual to understand, and he's quite aware of this. When one's been around him for a while it becomes easy to understand how he operates on a very basic level. His underlings brought him what he needed regularly without him even having to ask. It was his problem-solving process, the inner workings of his mind that went beyond basic needs that were far more difficult to guess.

But L doesn't need to know any of that at this point for their bond to work. Near doesn't doubt that both of them will start picking up on how to treat each other sooner rather than later.

Such as in this moment - Near doesn't actually mind when someone else carries his things. His arm strength is laughable, though it's improved slightly out of necessity while working at his shop. But he doesn't hesitate to take it now. Every little action of his is being scrutinized.

He nods at the question.]

Very well.

[hearthebell]

[Silence, for a beat, as L does his best not to overthink, perhaps ironically overthinking in spite of his intention. Near isn't wrong; what he wants to do, typically, is what he does. Eventually, he works his way around to justifying it, even making it seem noble, when there's a selfish core motivating him.

Plain selfishness is simpler. Is it selfish to want to be there for his Bond, as more than a soul tether? It shouldn't be... but Near isn't like Mello, not driven by the same codependent covetousness.

Is he lonely, or just alone? If anyone is capable of understanding Near, it should be him, it could only be him. Is that the natural course of logic, or gross hubris?

Regular migraines will become par for the course, before much longer. They leave the shop, L keeping his pace steady, an attempt to give Near the option to lead or follow.]

You have a Bond, now.

[Obviously.]

What else is in your future?

[He recalls that Near does not find the toy shop particularly fulfilling.]

[oftheletter]

[Near does not find the toy shop all that fulfilling. But he also doesn't hate it.

A lot of effort has gone into keeping the business afloat as he has, and it would be wasteful to discard all that effort without making some other use of it. It's a bit of a conundrum, as he's grown attached to it despite himself. He would not want to leave it in someone else's hands. Why would he give it up anyway? If there's something better for him on the horizon he isn't seeing it.]

Were you expecting great change?

[Just because he has a bond doesn't mean there are suddenly new aspects of this place in abundance for him to tackle. He also has no obligations. There's no government backing him to solve cases, and for the first time since he was a child nothing is really expected of him. It's freeing and demoralizing all at once, but he's choosing to stick with the route he has rather than flounder while searching for familiarity.]

[hearthebell]

I'm not sure.

[Honestly, he isn't. A familiar kind of restless ambition was alive and well in Mello, but the one who actually went on to succeed him might actually be content. If that's the case... L should be glad for him, shouldn't he?

Except... it doesn't feel like "content" secondhand, any more than a dream of anxious pursuit feels like resting.]

Raison d'être matters to me. I find it fascinating in all its forms. I suppose I had hoped to gain insight into yours. In time, perhaps.

[oftheletter]

[What Near has in the way of brows knits together into a slight frown, more obvious than his usual deadpan. L's prying is no more than would be expected from a bond, yet Near isn't any more willing to provide answers.

Partially because, when it comes to himself, he doesn't have them all here. His reason for being is different in this world than it is in his own. Here he's still at a loss. He exists, and he exists in a different form. Why shouldn't he go from one moment to the next the same as so many others in life?]

I'm not a case. I'm one of your bonded.

[He doesn't mean to be harsh. His tone doesn't come across as such but L will read between the lines.]

You'll have plenty of time to learn what you need to about me.

[But not everything.]

[hearthebell]

[Right; that reaction was probably inevitable, in hindsight. Much of what L thinks most people might find comforting backfires; Near is likely to feel patronized by such efforts, but would it be worse if L turned away, neglected, ignored?

Perhaps it's what he's accustomed to, after all. Is it better late than never, or better not to upset an expectation?]

Yes... of course. You are. And I truly hope so.

[Implying, at least, that he wants their Bond to last, however punishing a gauntlet it becomes.]

[oftheletter]

[Near nods. Good. Whether or not L does as he asks in regards to their relationship, he's at least vocalized an acknowledgement.

This whole thing is mentally exhausting. The naga doesn't do emotions, but that doesn't mean they don't drain him when they're involved - especially if he has to care about the individual they're connected to. He wants to go home, enjoy some of this meat, and curl up with his weird dog for the body warmth it provides.

Such boring, mundane desires. Even when given the fantastical nature of his current existence.

After a thoughtful pause, Near reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a keyring. Of the few keys on it, he removes one duplicate and holds it out to his bonded.]

Here. It's to my house, so I'd prefer you didn't let anyone else know you have it.

[hearthebell]

[For now, at least, the intention from L's end is sincerely to try. The fact that he's always been bad at boundaries isn't likely to resolve overnight, but fortunately, he has two other Bonds to siphon off some of that edge and prevent him from absolutely smothering his newest one.

It's never an auspicious start to any relationship, professional, romantic or otherwise, to keep in wan perspective that it could be so much worse.

L doesn't pocket the key when it's offered, and that's actually a good sign, that he closes his hand around it instead of throwing it in his pocket along with the careless assortment of loose change and wadded cash. He'll figure out a better solution for it later; half the time he doesn't even leave home with his own key, and so clearly he needs a longer-term approach to organizing what is growing into a collection, now, officially.]

I won't.

[Is it an invitation, or on an emergency-only basis? L realizes, after a moment's reflection, that it's actually a very reasonable question to voice, and he should.]

In giving me this key... I realize that it is implicit permission to enter, but on a scale from "only in emergencies" to "treat the space as your own..."

[You must have a preference.]

[oftheletter]

Do not move my things unless necessary. You may take food if you need it, but you won't care for the selection. Do not feed the dog unless you know it hasn't been fed. [Because it will always act as if it hasn't been fed.] Don't hover around the wormipede - it makes her nervous and she won't create silk.

Do not bring over strange guests. [Near pauses.] Any guests. But you may use my house if you need a place to go. If you just want to visit, contact me beforehand.

[He feels like there's more he should add, but if he keeps going he'll need to write a manual. L has a good memory, but there are so many better bits of knowledge that could be occupying the brainspace it would take for all of Near's house rules.]

[hearthebell]

[Some of these things are obvious; none of them are insulting. It's Near's space, after all, which he has been inhabiting and maintaining without L for quite some time, and he has every right to lay down rules.

It's not uncommon for Bonded partners to bounce between residences to satisfy the pull toward physical proximity. L and Light live together full time, but Myr customarily overnights a few times a week. It'll be interesting to see how that dynamic shifts and rebalances now that there is another Bond in the picture. L's been entertaining the notion that Near would perhaps prefer to be left alone now that the obligatory Bond has been forged, but the presentation of a key suggests that maybe, like L, he wants more out of it. He's just suggesting it the way Near would, and L thinks the signals are getting clearer.]

I appreciate the offer.

[He doesn't think this will happen, but he hadn't thought he'd need somewhere else to go when he was living with Mello. As long as a future exists in which Light murders him, the relationship is an inherently a volatile one. It makes sense for one who knows what happens in that future to put this on the table.]

Are visits something you think you'd enjoy?

[He wants to make it normal to stop by, at least weekly, but he also doesn't want to intrude or stress out his successor.]

Do you still like to solve jigsaw puzzles? Or do you see enough of them at work and want to do something else with your downtime, these days?

[oftheletter]

['Enjoy' is a strong word.]

A jigsaw puzzle can only be so interesting. No matter how long it takes you, all you're getting is what's on the front of the box.

[That doesn't keep them from being some of his best selling items, of course. Metaphors aside.]

You don't need to bring me anything. You don't need to visit me at all unless you find the need. I'm not lonely.

[And if he is, he's used to it. He's not looking for company, merely a way to let L know he isn't being dismissive about their relationship. Even if he's dismissive about many things related to it.]

[hearthebell]

["Enjoy" is a strong word, but L chose it for a reason. The more he talks to Near, especially now that they're Bonded, the clearer it's becoming that the man might not actually enjoy anything.

The picture on the front of the box. Flat, derivative, lifeless. Is that how Near feels?]

"Need" is a way to survive, but it's not a reason to live. I would hope that I'm just as welcome if I have no necessary reason, outside of just wanting to spend time with you.

[He holds the key the way he'd held Near's hand. Stiff and awkward, at first, because the cold metal doesn't belong, but slowly the small jagged shape has absorbed the heat of his palm.]

I usually have a project underway for work, or something to study from the Coven's library. I'll bring the materials along when I visit. If you're ever not in the mood to talk, I'm quite capable of entertaining myself, and if you are, it's nothing I wouldn't be glad to set aside. Count on visits, though.

[Like Near, L is not social, but like Mello, when he commits to something, it's fierce and focused. The detective's blessing and curse are both embodied by the purity of his devotion, even if the object of said devotion can be frustrating, unsafe, insane.]

[oftheletter]

Hn.

[It's no less than he'd expected, and he'd handed over the key regardless.

L will make himself a presence in his house. As his bonded, there's nothing unusual about this - for most people. Near is a more private person and could have gone without this interaction. He does this for L's sake. At least that's the excuse he's using.

He's forcing himself out of his comfort zone because he has to. He won't make any more progress in this place if he doesn't.]

In any case, I don't have another copy. [He nods toward the hand L holds the key in.] So don't lose it.