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Who: L, Niles, and likely Light at some point.
When: Early days of Aguril.
Where: L and Light's house.
What: Emergency tattoo touch up.
Warnings: R rated conversation.

[Normally he would have sent a courtesy text. Asked about logistics. Normally he wouldn't be absolutely bone dry on magic before he needed to set this up. Courtesy and coordination matter a lot less to him when he's partially unarmed. That naga they'd branded together lurks at the back of Niles' mind. From what he could tell he'd been gone two months. Plenty of time for things to have escalated or festered between him and L. If that's the case he doesn't want his anti hypnosis tattoo to be inert one second longer than it has to.

Arriving at L's house in the dead of night feels almost like a guilty pleasure. The windows are dark from the front, but Niles traces a familiar path around the perimeter that gives him a decent line of sight into a few windows without leaving the shadowed cover of the tall hedges dividing the property from its neighbors. Each room he gets a view into is empty and still. Some of the familiarity of his actions fades, but it's a relief. Enjoying the skulking and spying is one thing, seeing L's house in a state of alcoholic dissaray like it had been during the months Niles stalked him would be entirely different. He likes stretching his skulking and spying muscles, but the last thing he wants to do is actually return to needing to use them.

Finally Niles finds one window softly illuminated by a small lamp inside. It's L's study, and Niles is willing to bet his nose is buried in a book. He keeps out of sight anyway, just in case L isn't alone. He shifts into his feline form so he can stay below the level of the window as he approaches. When he gets a glimpse of L's hunched outline, and sees no second humanoid silhouette he relaxes and peers over the ledge, ears, eye, and horns all now lit up by the glow from inside. Now with a full clear look into the room he realizes that the dark shape he'd mistaken for new furniture is....some sort of great hulking animal. And floating? It looks aquatic, is it some strange warped mer form? Confused and curious as he is he doesn't stop to consider the fact that the thing itself has as clear a few of him as he does of it.]

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[L is turned away from the window, indeed poring over a heavy divination tome with worn and faded pages. They're forgotten arts, or at the very least seldom-used, and L takes immense pride and pleasure in devoting time to those particular studies, having the distinction of being the rare or only one with knowledge of their nuances.

He's still thin and pale, appearing fey and fragile. Niles would remember that, although he looks somehow better-kept, in a way that only a sighted partner or Bonded could attend to. His clothes are loose and comfortable while still coordinating and carrying the dignity of a man in the upper middle class of Aefenglom. He looks like death has not drawn quite as close as it has to him before; the hollows and shadows are not carved so deep and dark in his face and hands, and his skeleton is supported and embraced by improved muscle tone that's most apparent when he moves with more surety and power. Even his hair, combed as it was when he'd been Bonded to the SQUIP, seems to have a healthier luster.

Someone's taking care of him, day to day, minding details. Someone other than the orca phylax, which Niles would certainly not remember. She notices the returned monster before L does, looping a wispy and slow backflip, pausing in midair as one of her dark eyes meets the chimera's. She keens, a high whining sound, and L glances up, on sudden alert.]

Odd, nothing's been tripped...

[His glance follows hers toward the window.]

[That was not the sound he expected to come out of that animal. It startles him badly enough that he actually hops back from the window, back going into an arch and tail arcing up behind him as he spits out a hiss. Then L turns and now there's three eyes looking straight at him in all his fluffed up glory. He lowers his tail quickly, it was a gut reaction, not an intentional threat, and shifts back into his humanoid form. He stands up, trying his best not to look as stupefied and sheepish as he feels after getting caught red handed by a whistling horse sized tuna.]

Hello L. The uh...the fish is new.

[L startles when he sees Niles, but he's quick to open the window, peering out at someone who has been his foe at times, his ally at others.]

Not a fish... a sort of large dolphin called an orca. It's a sort of magic that draws out a witch's soul and manifests as an animal, externally, and she's mine. You'll see more phylaxes around.

[A pause.]

I thought you'd gone... returning isn't unheard of, but...

[For whatever reason he hadn't expected it in this case.]

I'm not unhappy.

What's a dol- [He shakes his head, cutting off his own question before it's even out. He doesn't actually care. It was a magic thing, and a weird animal that's all he needs to know. His world probably didn't even have them, like wormipedes.] -nevermind. [He walks up to the window and leans his elbows on the sill. This was a better reaction than he expected, and he's taking it as something like an invitation.]

'Not unhappy' enough to help me out? [He turns his arm over, showing the incredibly faint outline of his tattoo. Right now it's little more than inert ink.] I'll bleed for you if you need it. [His eye scans over L, finally taking in the little details now that he's not fixated on the orca. He knew someone had started sharing L's house before he left, and it looks like that's going well.]

Aquatic mammal.

[He answers, anyway. He wants Niles to understand his soul, somehow, in ways that only might matter.]

I'll help you, as a "welcome back" present. And I can spare the blood.

[His anemia is better. It is going well.]

Do you want to come in through the window, or the door? Either is acceptable to me, but you should probably decide.

[He doesn't know what a mammal is either L. He was probably born a few centuries before his world's equivalent of Charles Linnaeus. Even the most learned scholar in Nohr would call a beaver a fish too.

He answers by pulling himself through the window. No sense in wasting time walking back around the outside of the house. He has to twist a bit to get himself through the opening, but he was plenty flexible before he gained catlike features and abilities. It's an easy, fluid contortion, and he ends it by closing the window behind him by catching the handle with the curve of his stinger.

He could tell the orca was big from outside, but now actually shut in a room with it he's struck again by its sheer bulk. A line he'd assumed had been just a stripe turns out to be the mouth and his eye goes wide as he sees how far it stretches. This is his soul? There's times Niles assumed he didn't have one at all, and although that impression of L has passed, it being so massive still feels counterintuitive somehow. He addresses L while still openly staring at his very stunning not-a-fish.]

I appreciate it. Alright, where do you want me?

Edited (tweaks icon) 2021-08-11 05:13 (UTC)

[If L is surprised by Niles' decision to choose this entrance, he doesn't show it, instead stepping gamely back. The orca phylax moves more nimbly than she seems capable of based on her size, cutting through the air as if through water.

She clicks, chuffs through her blowhole, watching Niles with distrust that dissipates as L and Niles get reacquainted.]

Same place we usually do this, I think.

[The table, out in the kitchenette where the floorspace blends between cooking and living. The lighting is good, there's a flat and spacious area to work and steadily rest his elbows to keep his design precise.]

This became such a routine, it's almost like you were never gone.

[This does feel really, weirdly natural.]

[As the thing moves Niles' eye is fixed on the top of the fin. It reminds him suddenly of the shapes that glided through a particular frigid lake, slowly breaking up ice before eventually dragging him underwater and the connection between the two snaps into place. He blinks and tears his eye away from the phylax turning on L instead, forcing his shoulders to relax. A little surprisingly he doesn't have to force the smile.]

Good. Because I'll accept this touch up as a gift, but I've got more to ask of you after. Not as urgent, so we can hash out a proper deal.

[He scoots around the edge of the room to the hallway, keeping his back to the wall, and his tail tucked against it. The orca is giving him space, and he wants to return the favor. Once out of the study he resumes a normal stride, pausing in the living room to scan the omnipresent bookshelves. He'd browsed parts of L's collections in the past and is looking for a particular one on runes. Most of the stuff L has is well beyond his surface level grasp of the subject, but there's one that has a well organized glossary of some of the basics, and for what he's going to propose he needs to read up. Once he's picked it out he settles at the bar area, laying his arm out and opening the book with his other hand.]

[Cerise follows them, drifting behind at a reasonable distance. There's a laziness to the way she moves, but it's also clear that if she wanted to eliminate the space between them, she could do it in seconds. She yawns, displaying an assortment of very sharp teeth.]

I didn't offer it as a gift, but I don't expect payment. Even you probably didn't fling yourself at the red light district fast enough to be gainfully employed again, already.

[He can, at least, rely on freelancing for the agency. That worked out well, while it did, and the cases tend to resolve quickly, eliminating the need to brief Niles on anything that's been dragging on for the time he's been away.

He goes to the bookshelf where he keeps his kit, slightly dusty now from disuse. He brings it to the table, uses his sleeve to wipe the leather before he opens it, takes out his drafting paper to spread on the tabletop.]

Might as well tell me what you have in mind.

[Those teeth catch his eye, as he's sure they were meant to. He'd bet money he doesn't have on the fact that she's enjoyed the signs of skittishness he's shown, and wants more. He doesn't give her another, at least not yet. Niles no longer feared L, and if she was him, then he didn't fear her either. But my oh my what big teeth she has. He turns, letting her occupy his blind spot while he puts his attention on the book he'd picked and L, but with one ear cocked in her direction.

Niles chuckles. While he wasn't actually working yet, he had already scheduled a time to meet Frisky and re-interview for his position. But even if he still had his savings from before he preferred to pay L in trade. Skill for skill. There was a fairness to it that he liked.]

I value my autonomy, so in some ways it's more of the same. We've got illusions and hypnosis off the table, now I want to tackle other compulsion magics. Sirens' songs and the like.

[He trusts Connor, he really does. He trusts Connor not to misuse his voice, but if he's going to go through with a bond to the man, he can't let himself be totally defenseless against it. Trustworthy now does not mean trustworthy always.]

Edited 2021-08-12 06:38 (UTC)

[L's phylax takes after him, in the playful and petty ways that the detective is human enough to tamp down and conceal. She absolutely wants Niles to see the rows of shiny, sharp, apex slicers; that's just how it is. That's how it always will be, no matter how fast of friends they become, even if they screw each other, because Niles once sliced off L's fingers and demanded that he know his own weakness and vulnerability in a haze of fear and pain.

Skill for skill is equitable; it's fair. That's how they've functioned for so long, will continue to function as long as Niles remains.]

Sirens' songs? You make it sound like you're specifically worried about merrows.

Edited 2021-08-15 02:11 (UTC)

[In turn he very much wants to take a closer look in that mouth. Stare down those rows of fangs and marvel at the power of the thing he was not consumed by. But it's a distant, secondary desire compared to getting L's assistance with his wards. He could ogle the orca's powerful natural weapons later when the ink was set and his mind was safe.]

Because I am.[No sense in hiding it. If he wanted a targeted rune against a specific magic effect, he couldn't dance around it. Implying strongly what he wanted while avoiding giving specifics to a notoriously nosy asshole wouldn't end well one way or the other.] Connor's back too.

I'd seen as much. So, a particular merrow.

[He sits, relaxes. Ties off his arm with the familiarity and comfort of a seasoned addict. He used to just cut into his arm; now, when time permits, he doesn't waste a drop, using a phlebotomist's techniques with a hollow needle, a hungry pull that can have so much magic wrung out of every little bit.]

The two of you are sleeping together, I imagine... or will be, soon.

[Waste not, want not. It's a principle that has saved his life in the past, one he values and appreciates. Seeing L practice it is another little sign of maturity and progress, almost in direct contrast with Niles' recent recklessness of diving straight into the deep end (literally and metaphorically) with Connor.]

No, I have my own bed, we mostly fuck in the pool. [He smirks obnoxiously. He curates his hypersexual reputation on purpose for both fun and profit, but how and when people bring it up to him often reflects their own needs. First the red light comment, now this. Is L thirsty and fishing for saucy details?] If you are imagining it you ought to do it right. My drenched fur slick and clinging to me, his teeth and claws gripping at me, his tail's weight pinning me to the wall. Or sometimes I ride him, I work his slit with one hand and trace his gills with the other, makes him twitch and writhe in the best ways.

Do you? Water's a dreadful lubricant.

[He's decided that no matter how obnoxious Niles desires to be, it won't get to him, make him squirm, cause the color to rise in his cheek or require a compulsive clearing of his throat.

Hypersexual, Niles might be. L has hyper tendencies of his own, and obnoxiousness is probably one of them.]

And then you kiss, and then you tell. I follow, right enough.

[Spoken almost in a singsong tone as he fills a vial with dark, rich blood, like ink.]

You're right, I thought we'd be limited to frottage but as it turns out, his cock gets wet. The stuff is thicker than a woman's, almost like a jelly. Works wonders. [He knows L is difficult to fluster and honestly likes that about him. Sometimes he sees it as a challenge, but right now it's something more like a...relief. L's someone he can vent to with full vulgarity and not worry about scandalizing him unless he really tries to.] I'm capable of discretion when I feel like it. But he's not a client, I'm not his dirty little secret, and you asked. Besides, he's a catch worth bragging about in my opinion. [Okay...one more little attempt to get a reaction.] You know he doesn't need to breathe right? Even on land? At first I was frustrated he had such an unfair advantage for someone so green, but it feels fantastic to finally get as good as I give.

[Perhaps it dawns on L, at some point, that Niles is relying on him for his relative resistance to scandalization. Thicker than a woman's is something he doesn't comment on, though familiarity lights up in his eyes, seems accessible to him. He's been with a woman since he and Niles last spoke; he has context, where he didn't before.

He doesn't tell.]

A catch worth bragging about... I wonder what his unfair advantage is.

[Niles gives up on flipping through the book he'd chosen. He's not paying enough attention to the letters to actually parse any meaning from them, much less track down the specific page he's thinking of. Instead he uses his free hand instead to trail a finger down his neck as he talks tapping suggestively at a point below his adam's apple.] Since he doesn't need air, when he gives head he can take it to the hilt and keep it there as long as he likes. And while that's certainly one way to keep him from singing me into a stupor, I'd like a more...[His tail twitches under the table. His smile stays in place, still full of lecherous glee, but it's a little more sour now, a little more brittle.]...general solution.

Hm. Good to know, all of it.

[It's more something to say, than something meant sincerely. L is a private person when it comes to sex, neither a virgin or a whore. He seems immune to lust, though obsession is his grasping mistress.]

If I ever sleep with Connor, I'll keep it in mind.

[He probably won't. Everyone he wants to engage with this way is forbidden, somehow.]

Just giving you a little fodder for some sweeter dreams than the ones you're used to.

[Niles is convinced no one is immune to lust. Even the most strait laced, devout, celibate monk has a breaking point, and he's seen enough of L's more unorthodox hungers to know he's far from exempt from the messy, inconvenient, base urges that Niles makes his living on. All that said, he knows sarcasm when he hears it.]

My point is that I need a mark to counter his voice, and I need to put somewhere a little unorthodox. Somewhere he won't find it, even when he strips me down and works me over.

[He's got something in mind, but he's curious to see where L's mind goes first with the problem as presented.]

Save it. Bring me some literal fodder; chocolates, maybe, or something sufficiently alcoholic so that everything seems sweet.

[Spindly body mass aside, L has built up enough of a tolerance through secretively binge-drinking himself to sleep that it would take a fair amount. Princely gift, indeed, and a pretty shameless hint about it.

What's not quite so shameless are his own sexual escapades. Unlike Niles, he holds them close to his chest, doesn't speak of them nearly so freely. They're a secret smirk, knowledge that is gently comforting to the person who matters.]

Your tongue comes to mind, first. Lovers don't tend to examine the muscle, but tattooing them is quite possible.

I can make that happen.

[He might not have many cunes to his name or his old job back (yet) but a few of his former coworkers owe him favors. He can ask one of them to get him something from the top shelf. At L's suggestion Niles' tilts his head and gives a considering hum.]

Not a bad idea...but avoiding oral while I wait for it to heal might get him suspicious. No, I was thinking here. [He uses his hand to push aside the thick tuft of fur that curs around the opening of his left ear. The fur thins considerably past the outer rim, down to nearly bare skin at the base of the shell. It tries to flick away from the intrusion reflexively, and Niles gives a little tsk of irritation. He catches it between two fingers and stretches it taught. His other hand even joins to flatten down any human hair in the way, making sure L has a good view of the spot he's suggesting.] Depending on how much room you need, I can shave a bit to widen that area but still keep it covered easily.

[L tilts his head, peering where Niles specifies.]

I offered to tattoo your tongue. Considering as much, you know how delicate my runes can get, I hope.

[They've been at this long enough, over time, after all.]

Why are you so intent on keeping him from noticing it, anyway? Seems someone like Connor would understand your reasons.

[Niles frowns, hand sliding back to scratch the base of his ear. It's a reasonable question, but it's an urge he'd been acting on without thinking about too hard. Now that L pointed a floodlight on it though. It's half habit half, setting up a test. He hums, tail twitching as he irons out his motives.]

Well, first of all I value being able to feign surrender. [It's an old rule of his. Always tap out with enough energy and composure to react to escalation.] Second...bonds are tricky, overwhelming things. We've talked, set up some lines in the sand, but the full moon brings high tides. [He shakes his head.] I want this to be a trip wire, not a wall. See if he remembers where the line was without having to install a pier.

[His frown fades, replaced by something like a resigned smile, and a shrug.] This of course, hinges on you not telling him. With all that said, having the protection itself is the priority. The cloak and dagger of it all is, [He waves a hand through the air.] tassels and finery on armor.

Just so long as you're only feigning, I'm sure.

[Oh, yes. He's sure, after months of being locked in bitter battle with the chimera. No one could be more sure.]

Bonds grow around you, like any good or bad habit. You'll adjust. And rest assured... I have no interest in telling him.

[No interest, investment, or passion. L's dully professional as he goes about his preparations as though by rote, like a cat too lethargic to even perk up at the sight of a rubber mouse on a string dangled in its face.]

Speaking of tassels and finery, you're not interested in embellishments or artistic touches for something that's meant to go unseen, are you?

[He's not sure he has "artistic" in him, in truth.]

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