[OPEN] The Stars, The Moon, They Have All Been Blown Out

[hearthebell]

Who: L Lawliet and YOU (some open prompts, some semi-open)
When: Octeuril 21 through the end of the month
Where: Around Geardagas
What: Waking up to find that he doesn't have permanent severe brain damage is tempered by realizing and processing that his Bonded actually does.
Warnings: References to violent events, angst, will update if necessary



A. Octeuril 21, The Cottage (Open to residents, visitors and healers)

[It's been a week since Myr's desperate attack had thrown blackout curtains over L's senses and thoughts, further complicated by the violent fundamental alteration of his Bonded. He'd received prompt healing to his head and ribs that made the overall prognosis hopeful, and has been cared for and kept comfortable enough, but the fact of the matter is that Connor woke up, and then the SQUIP, but trailing behind them, L just didn't. Frequent doses of healing magic can help, but not change, the fact that the brain is complex and fragile, and rebuilding and repairing it can take time with even skilled and careful intervention.

For seven days and nights, he's been sleeping it off, recuperating in the quiet and subtle ways that make the biggest collective difference. Eventually, the culmination amounts to "enough", and with no trigger, catalyst or warning, he sits up in bed with no memory of how he got there.

So, start from the beginning.

Who? The SQUIP. Rich. Niles, Michael, Jeremy, Connor and Justine. Myr.

What? The Bond is different. The Bond has changed. The SQUIP has changed.

Where? Just outside. There was blood on the pavement.

When? Too long ago. So much has happened.

Why? It had to be stopped.

How? Fingertips explore the tender place where a skull was broken, has begun to mend in earnest. Clear enough, somehow... with no small measure of disquietment, L understands that he should probably be a vegetable. Someone, or several someones, have been working on ensuring that he woke up with the one thing he couldn't live without intact. How long is the list of names? How many people does L theoretically owe his life to, now?]

Is someone there?

[A week in bed has him anxious to get to his feet again, but... oh, slow, it's a head rush just to put them on the floor while he remains seated. He's hungry, and though either magic or gentle attentive hands have been keeping his body free of grime, he wants to bathe badly.]

Please tell me what's happened.

[He'll settle for anyone, the first person he lays eyes on. Friend or foe, he has to know; he isn't usually the last, this way.]

B. The Coven (Open)

[Getting back to some semblance of an ordinary life means returning to old familiar habits. The things that L's grey matter remembers so well it's second nature are, quite simply, folding into the sanctuary of committed study, and while the new and far more human SQUIP needs him in ways it didn't used to, that's still overwhelming. Latching onto L as a fellow human who can guide it through this transition is a mistake; whether or not it's a birthright, L was never very good at being human. It's the reason he considered a machine safe, and now that it's distraught and tormented and volatile, all on account of its reaction to his injury.

Books and scrolls are stacked high at his side, and he's working on a new set of runes. A jeweler's magnifying lens is held against his eye as he carefully etches them into pieces of scrap metal bent into the crude shape of a ring. These are just practice goes, of course, but some of them are promising. He places them in one pile; a far larger pile of rejects is littering the floor around the legs of his chair.

He glances your way, shoulders curling, seeming to grow a touch more protective of his work. Lately, he can only assume that others want to take things from him that bring him some small semblance of happiness.]

C. The Sly Seadog- Samuin (Open)

[Then, of course, there are the things that are not familiar at all. A mind is more than just a collection of memories and compiled facts; it has to adapt and respond and arrange data into solutions, and while working in a controlled and quiet environment is one way to test that, L can't think of a better scenario than this one to put himself through his paces.

The SQUIP can't help him the way it used to. He feels, in many ways, like a child about to cross the street for the first time without holding his caretaker's hand.]

Buy me a shot of liquor.

[He's addressing you. Maybe you know each other and he genuinely feels you owe it to him; maybe you're strangers and he is just testing the baseline for any kind of natural charisma he may possess in this capacity. Either way, he's getting some looks from a few of the bar's rowdier-looking individuals, and deigns to add]

...please.

D. WILDCARD

[Don't see it? Want it? Well, COOL, in all likelihood I do too but just didn't think to include it. Write your own prompt and I'll roll with it, or hit me up on plurk at lexil or on discord at ladylazarus#2235!]

Comments

[hearthebell]

[L doesn't protest when Mello orders more alcohol. Someone here will drink it, because everyone here is trying to put a recent unpleasant experience behind him. Maybe blur the edges just a little, create a gentler feeling and inhabit it for a little while when it's just not possible in the harsh light of day, with the sharp edge of a sober mind firing on all cylinders.]

Please eliminate those words from your vocabulary, tonight. At least that combination... "supposed to."

[Holding his shot glass with his fingertips, he drinks a little faster, winces. The bartender places the new drinks within their reach.]

I know you were there. Often, and for many hours at a time. I was told.

[Would it bring Mello comfort to think that he heard some of that praying and pleading, that in some way he remembers events when he was utterly senseless and plunged into a dreamless void.]

What's it like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders? It's been a long time for me, and the memory's faded. But it doesn't seem to be the case for you.

[With nothing to be done, Mello had done everything, and still considers himself a failure. He's making heavy promises he can't possibly keep. The alcohol in front of them represents the only real solution here, doesn't it?]

[onamissile]

[The second shot goes down like water after the first, still as warm, still as bitter. But it doesn't make Mello suppress the urge to wince at the burning with which it stings his throat. He tightens his mouth at L's reprimand – a child scolded – and is silent a for a long while. Minutes, watching the fellow patrons around them, considering the question and the best way to approach the answer of, sometimes, I'm afraid it will crush me into the ground that I might never get up.]

[He'll refrain from ordering another so soon; he doesn't want his predecessor to gain the impression that Mello has any habits that would hinder him as an asset.]

Yea, well. [A slight distraction.] You were breathing, so.

[So. There was that. More silence. What type of answer does L possibly expect]

The weight is just another job. [Shrug.] If there's a problem, I have to resolve it. If something needs to be done, I get it done.

[There. That answer should be satisfactory.]

Would you prefer something sweeter? [Gesturing towards L's shotglass.]

I want to talk about your Bond. I respect your choice; you would do nothing without good reason, and I don't want any details about it.

[Please; he doesn't want details.]

But I've assessed my priorities, and we need to speak on them.

[hearthebell]

[The things that L judges, and doesn't judge, can be unpredictable. He isn't indifferent, but there's a distance, a lens that is frosted and bent. His standards simply aren't the same; it's possible that the rules he plays by aren't, either.]

I was breathing.

[He confirms it with a sigh. He doesn't have to remember, to know.

He's not here to taste what he's drinking, but he nods nevertheless. He would always prefer something sweeter, preferably a flavor that can drown all the bitterness out of whatever assaults his mind or his senses. He permits Mello to order it, because...]

I'll speak with you on the subject.

[The fact that Mello is approaching it with respect and minimal entitlement is significant and appreciated.]

And I know what you want from me. The risks really aren't enough to dissuade you?

[onamissile]

[A bottle of Kahlua, then. While it might not be particularly as potent as cognac, the flavor would definitely be more enjoyable. Mello has been stashing away most of the money he's made at the tavern, aside from a few clothing splurges here and there. He can afford to treat L on his birthday, of all days. Especially when he's propositioning him with something so preposterous.]

If you deemed it enough of a risk to you to be overtly harmful, you would've simply shot me down on the spot.

[It isn't Mello's intention to harm his mentor.]

That you're willing to hear me out tells me that you can handle it.

[Of course he can; L can handle anything. He takes a moment to order up the entire bottle along with two fresh glasses, much to the surprise of the bartender. Mello knows; he's been bartending himself, lately. An entire bottle in a tavern is thrice what it would cost otherwise. He'll just. Watch his finances more carefully after tonight.]

[I know what you want from me. Does L see this as beneficial in no way?]

I'm not worried about myself. I'm not going to bond with monsters to quell my power; it's sabotage.

[Even though bonding with a witch is, in fact, the definition of self-sabotage. He'll cross that brigde when he comes to it. Which will be soon, he suspects.]

I want to be strong. [His resolve is for the ages.] And I want to be there to protect you in the event that there's another incident. [More quietly, now.] You don't know what your initial death did to me — to us — we were all too young to process it properly.

[If they're going to be blunt, Mello is going to be honest.]

When I saw you lying there —

[Banish the image.]

[No, he's not going to finish that thought. It's too heavy, and it makes no difference.]

I think Bonding would be beneficial for both of us down the line, and if it becomes too much for you, I won't take offense if you decide to break it.

[There it is: the lie.]

[hearthebell]

[Kahlua is something L has tasted. When he started turning more to alcohol for various reasons, it had been important, initially, that it had a sweet taste. Now, he really doesn't prefer to let it sit on his tongue for long enough to taste it, but Mello's gesture is still noted, even appreciated. He's trying to reach and relate to a man who actively resists both efforts from everyone, offering comfort and peace and protection during an uncertain and unstable time. Even if there's almost certainly an ulterior motive, it's commendable, outwardly selfless at the very least.]

I did shoot you down on the spot.

[But it was weeks ago, now. In a place like this, a hell of a lot can change in very little time. L might well be able to handle it, or not, but he's had to learn through a painful and humiliating trial by fire what he isn't capable of. L and his mind are a marvelous thing; no honest man who has met him would ever claim they were built to last. Mello is right to worry; Mello is right to panic, rage and bargain. They're logical reactions when there's a real risk of losing him, even here where death need not be a permanent state.]

A compelling argument could be made. You grieved my death, and therefore, in some indirect but devastating way... I hurt you.

[They both know that on a theoretical and intellectual level, it's erroneous to blame the victim. But to these particular children, the thought that God could be a victim of any crime, injured or killed in the wake of someone else's malice or carelessness... it's blasphemy, plain and simple.

If Mello wanted to see a human "lying there," or sitting beside him in this bar, he would never have asked or continued to trust that L can call attention to his limits and therefore his frailty. No god would, and Wammy's was bigger than both of them in spite of what Mello might believe about his mentor.]

Do you believe that I owe you this chance?

[To help, or hurt... is this an idol that you own, as much as that cross you wear?]

[onamissile]

[Hurt is an understatement. Mello died along with L and was born again; a phoenix emerged from flames with a drive that would put the will of gods to shame. The pain was too much to bear; L's defeat was his defeat. They lost, and he made it his mission to rectify this loss at any cost. If his expression becomes grim, it's only the reflection of a memory that he'd rather stash so deeply that nothing could dig it up. Not even L. He has to remind himself that it doesn't matter that L died — he's alive now — and Mello has become stronger for it.]

[Maybe it was necessary, maybe it wasn't.]

All I could think was —

[Will he out himself so easily?]

— that I would never see you again, and there was nothing I could do about it.

[Ultimately frustrating. Mello doesn't take on the role of being helpless easily.]

Killing him wouldn't revive you; I handed Near the title. [So.] Yeah, it hurt.

[And the floodgates have been opened.]

It felt like you'd willingly committed suicide.

[Because L had a literal pack of soldiers who would have assisted him, age be damned. But he's a prideful thing like Mello, isn't he? It was his case, and he thought the way he went about it was best. He didn't consider them — how could he? — and the lack of acknowledgement stings worse than anything else.]

We weren't important to you. [Accusations be damned.] We were backups in a system that was designed to operate the way it did, and you were hyperfocued on Kira the way I was after I had to take the reigns.

[That said — ]

I don't hold it against you. [More lies.] You had a job to do; I took on that job after he bested you.

[God, that bottle can't come quickly enough. What the hell is that bartender doing?]

I won't guilt you into it. If you say no, I'll take it as your answer. But.

[But.]

You owe me the chance to prove myself. You didn't consider me an asset, then.

[Insulting, really.]

I was a child. [He runs the tip of his tongue over his lips, considering his next words carefully. Or maybe he speaks on pure impulse.] I'm not a child anymore. I've done things that would put both you and Kira to shame, and I'm capable of so much more.

[He doesn't glance away when the bottle and glasses are placed on the bar near them; his eye-contact is severe and demanding. Before L sits nothing less than the leader of a criminal empire, one who kept their greatest enemy on his toes, and L needs to see and understand it. He's not fourteen fucking years old vying for his mentor's attention. He's a grown man now with abilities that should do nothing short of impress his predecessor.]

But I would always remain in your corner, and that's what you should consider.

[hearthebell]

[L is motionless as he listens. The rise and fall of his chest is so subtle that he seems as though he's not even allowing the sound or sensation of his own breath to be a distraction for what amounts to... well, this.

He knows what it must take for Mello to be this emotionally vulnerable in front of him. No amount of alcohol alone could prompt it; he is, if not the deliberate cause of Mello's agony, a potent catalyst for it. And L can read between the lines; Mello holds him responsible, because a God who isn't responsible isn't God. Mello might not be a child anymore, might demand that L notice how the mighty have looked upon him and despaired, but L is the legacy he follows like the specter of an absent parent. He wants L's acceptance and leadership and trust, and from his perspective, why wouldn't he be entitled to those things?

L doesn't flinch away from the rigid focus of Mello's eyes. He returns a steady, even stare that is perhaps more distant than appraising; it's so difficult to tell sometimes, with such still waters.]

I've never doubted your competence or your loyalty. I don't doubt them now.

[Besides, they're not enough. L's doubt, after all, is focused inward, on the soul that's already stretched and strained from the effort of maintaining one Bond with another witch.]

I strive to consider all possibilities, however. And though you mean it in these moments... this pledge to stand by me always... what if I should fail, again?

[Failing, after all, might as well be the same as dying for a God. Only mortals fail, and no mortal could pull this helplessness and desire from eyes hardened by Mello's cruelest years. Mello is asking him to do something Herculean; he could go mad, lose himself, become a menace or a maelstrom. All distinct possibilities, and if Mello writes them off because Linden is L, it is by far the largest hazard they face.]

[onamissile]

[Oh, L. Even Gods fall sometimes, and their empires with them. But Mello refused to allow such a catastrophic thing to happen. He carried on the legacy, approached it from a different angle with sharp results. Shouldn't L be proud? Does Mello need to brag about how he has Kira scrambling to keep himself afloat, how he didn't rely on law enforcement to build his own empire?]

[No. L doesn't care about things like that now, does he? He's concerned with the cost of this potential union; Mello's always been a demanding thing, hasn't he? Even his choices of clothing scream acknowledge me, and even in offering L something in return, he's only vying for validation through L's agreement, isn't he?]

You won't fail again.

[Grin. It's genuine. Sinister.]

Not with me around.

[It doesn't even occur to him how such a statement could possibly be insulting. He's insinuating that L couldn't get the job done without him. (And he would be correct to say it in those exact words.) But people of their caliber operate on business, don't they? Emotion is irrelevant. He can't possibly guilt the world's greatest three detectives into tying himself to his young, reckless protege with invisible twine.]

Come with me, [As though speaking to one of his subordinates. He's not a child in sloppy clothing at L's feet tonight, no. No. He's someone who needs to show his confidence in order to seal something he's been mulling over for weeks, now. He pinches the rims of the two glasses in one hand, lifts the bottle with the other.]

[He'll guide his predecessor to a small table near a back-corner of the tavern; conversations as damning as this one shouldn't be exchanged so openly. Prying eyes and ears can be anywhere, and while there is no immediate threat looming over them at the moment (that Mello knows of), he will doubtlessly make enemies in the future.]

[The near future.]

[hearthebell]

[L listens, stares, takes in how confident Mello is in his assertion. L was like that too, once, wasn't he? Smirking as he called Kira evil, he'd convinced a small but invaluable group of men that they couldn't fail if they worked alongside him, and justice would prevail no matter what. He thinks it even reached his eyes; he felt it, then, sincere and true, and now his lips are slack and silent, and any fighting glint in his eyes is painted over with blackest lacquer.

There's no lie between them, but perspective is everything, and they guard two very different truths. Mello sees a paragon with a trump card; L sees something that may be high-risk and high-reward, at best... but they stand to lose so much if his narrow shoulders collapse under the weight of two unstable and explosive Bonds.

Does Mello need to see it, to believe it? Was witnessing his mentor's sleeping husk only a prelude to the triumph of rising damaged but whole, with none of the mental impairments a mere mortal might sustain after that kind of crack to the head?

He stands, slipping his thin hands into his overlarge pockets. The coat has been tailored to fit him, but still appears baggy on his frame due to his poor posture; he nods his assent and accompanies the leather-clad blonde to their more secluded location. What's wise or foolish is ultimately moot, because Mello's force of will probably exceeds L's own. He'll say his piece, tonight, and L will hear it. That was probably decided definitively the moment Mello left his home this evening.]

[onamissile]

[Even without a Bond, he can sense L's reluctance. It's off-putting and confusing; hasn't Mello already stated multiple times that the detective has nothing to worry about? If he's worried about the toll bonding with a witch will take on him, be it physically or mentally, he has the option to pull out at any time. Mello believes, with absolute certainty, that he's presenting L with an opportunity as opposed to a burden.]

[He won't let the offense show — can't afford it — when he's proposing something he might very well be denied. And that? Will crush him. Without question. So he takes particular care in pouring the two glasses nearly to the brim, sets the bottle between them. He slides his own chair close enough to tuck himself into the corner, leaving L ample space across from him if his mentor decides to leave. His goal is to create a sense of ease, if nothing else. Mello is well aware of how intimidating he can be. But to L? It's unfathomable.]

[There's no threat here, L. Can't you see?]

I've another Bond in mind: a merrow. [He assures L as he sinks into his own chair, legs sprawled and arms immediately finding their place on the seat's back.] I'm holding off until it's absolutely necessary; she doesn't know I've intentions towards her.

[But that's another story for another time. Alex has nothing to do with this.]

You should know that I'm not completely disregarding your advice in favor of power; I understand that for all of our safety, there needs to be a balance.

[Whether or not that balance will come into play remains to be seen. His posture is relaxed; his tone and gaze is less severe. The worst thing he can do tonight is appear a pompous braggart. L's demeanor has made that increasingly clear.]

Tell me your immediate concerns. I know that you've already bonded with a witch, and doing the same with me would cause an imbalance. I don't want to hurt you, but I'm not going to throw away an opportunity that would put us both in positions of power.

[Wrong choice of words, maybe. But if they're to be bonded, L is going to know all about Mello's hunger for power, isn't he?]

[hearthebell]

[When L speaks, there's often multi-layered pitfalls and meanings, and nearly always a keen and razor-sharp wit underlying all that he says. When he's silent, it almost says more; he's letting Mello carry the conversation while he merely drinks in the rash ambition that is carefully masked, but still heedless of what all but promises to go very wrong.

Pulling out might always be an option that is offered. Mello might even mean it when he says that he would not hold it against the detective to drop their union should he find the toll too steep. But oh, he also knows that once Mello feels what it's like to be in a Bond, with one he has held in high regard and idolized for so long, it will be a battle to ever extract himself from it. Access to the way L sees the world, and reasons, and thinks and plans and philosophizes, will hold Mello in their thrall until he simply won't be able to let go.

His breaths are shallow and even, just as they were when Mello last saw him pallid and dreamless.]

Power means different things to different people. It could be strength or knowledge, or influence.

[Control. And all that that implies.]

You said before that our goals might not always align. You also communicated a desire to keep your assets to yourself until you were assured of their trustworthiness. As far as Bonds are concerned... sharing goals and assets is just the beginning. You're privy to things you might not even want to know, at times, if the connection is especially strong.

[And with their shared background? It's possible that it could be strong in ways no one without their unique context could ever emulate. L bends forward, sipping at the rim of his glass without lifting it so as to avoid a spill.]

My most immediate concern is that "power" means something different to you. My greatest concern is that our philosophies might be irreconcilable, and the fact that you couldn't work with Near lends credence to that possibility.

[Pieces of Mello exist within L. Arrogance, of course, and a competitive nature, but also a deep and plaintive gash of humanity that aches and bleeds and bites. But the same is true for Near, and those conflicting pieces may well be both L's more dominant side, and wholly irreconcilable for the proud creature who sits on the other side of that Kahlua bottle.]

[onamissile]

[Fingers curling around his own glass, Mello furrows his brow at L's extensive list of concerns. That he would throw Near into the mix is both unnecessary and irrelevant; the two haven't gotten along since the dawn of time, as far as Mello is concerned. He would never be able to share a bottle of liquor with Near, speak calmly over their differences while formulating a plan to overcome them.]

N and I were never compatible; it went deeper than an inability to work together. We've simply never seen eye to eye, and the differences would have caused unnecessary strife when it came to a shared goal.

[But L isn't Near, is he? No. Mello admires L, would respect his opinions and take heed when they came to a disagreement. It's not the same at all. He carefully lifts his own glass, takes the smallest of sips, another, before placing it back down.]

It's possible to work with someone without agreeing on everything. I'm sure you're aware of that.

[No. No. He has to do better.]

You've told me that you want to climb the ladder into Parliament; that's a desire for power. I can easily take control of the underground once I gain my footing. Together, our differences in the definition of power would align to where we would be able to take control of all aspects of this place. That we would go about it differently is beneficial; you would need someone on the other side if you want to avoid opposition.

[Admit it, L. You want the same sort of power Mello does. Only clean-cut and official.]

Our differences might be our greatest strength, and I would never oppose you to the point where it would jeopardize your goals. Quite the opposite, actually.

[Another sip. Mello has no head for alcohol, and his posture is already becoming a bit more lazy due to the shots they consumed before moving to the table. He speaks more freely now, but he will never damn himself. He's too smart for that, and L should be proud.]

I'm well aware that I would be forfeiting any privacy if we go forward with this, and I'm willing to make that sacrifice. [He stares at L, unblinking.] Because I trust you, and I've nothing to hide that would cause you concern in the long-run. My goal is to take control of the underground activities that would benefit both of us. If we come to a place where our places of power conflict, I'm willing to adjust my methods to compliment yours.

[Or so he thinks.]

I respect you as my mentor. As a more powerful witch, and the fact that I'm willing to hand you my secrets should speak for itself.

[And another sip. Mello's never given himself away. Not like this.]

I was trained to be you. I'm not delusional enough to think that I know better than you when I abandoned my training so young. I simply take a different approach.

[Smuggling, kidnapping, blackmail. He suspects L has dabbled in a few unsavory things, himself.]

I always thought — when I was still a child — that I would end up working for you, one day. I never thought you would die. What happened after was all happenstance.

[That being said.]

Despite my position back home, I'm prepared to let you take the lead if that's what you need to make this work.

[And so.]

That's my case. [He lifts his eyes, touches the rim of the glass to his lips.] I've nothing else to offer.

[His last words before he blatantly chugs the sweet, savory liquor. Mello has never given himself to anyone the way he's handing himself over to L now.]

[hearthebell]

Please don't misunderstand...

[L raises his glass with his fingertips toward his lips now that there's no danger of it spilling over, sipping it; the inherent sweetness makes it less like torture.]

I decided some time ago to permit a Bond.

[Perhaps minutes; perhaps days. L is intentionally ambiguous about it.]

If you can trust my experience and respect my goals, there's no real reason to postpone it, except for one thing. As you know, I don't enter into Bonds lightly... and while you have a prospect, for a Monster Bond, I currently do not. That should be rectified post-haste if we really are moving forward with this.

[And it really seems as though they are. L is committed to, if perhaps not quite prepared for, his decision.]

[onamissile]

[To which Mello deadpans. He should've known ― L being L ― that his overspeaking was unnecessary. L wanted to see how far he would go, didn't he? Wanted to let it play out and see if Mello would reveal anything that would damn himself. A mock non-interrogation, and his protege sang like a bird.]

[Fuck. Here it is. The first of many humiliations.]

I'm ready when you are.

[He speaks with the utmost confidence; Mello can't let his embarrassment show. In fact ― ]

Tomorrow, if you'd like to seal this as quickly as possible. If you've any issues finding a monster bond, I can help you with that.

[Though Mello can't imagine anyone not wanting to bond with L. Who would be so stupid? He's... pouring himself another (his final) glass, despite the fact that the speed with which he drained the last one is beginning to make his head spin. He's going to... Bond with his mentor. They're going to share something Mello could have never dreamed up when he'd imagined them working together. Something more intimate, more revealing.]

[If he's intimidated, he won't let it show. L's already bested him once with letting him ramble on the way he did.]

Your other Bond. [Jealousy, be they name.] Will there be an issue?

[If so, Mello will resolve it.]

[hearthebell]

[Mello's learning, quickly, what to expect from the very core of L's being. There's always going to be that dark feint, that tendency to push and press and get someone to reveal who they really are over the course of a conversation to the greatest possible extent. It's in the man's nature, and a huge part of the reason Mello has come to admire him so fiercely... but that's not to say that it's already hinting at the exposure that's bound to be an uncomfortable side effect of their pact.

He nods his acceptance. Mello is impatient, but ultimately, it doesn't matter to L whether it's immediately or a month from now. Would the result be any different?]

It's like I said. I don't enter into Bonds lightly.

[It's not about Monsters wanting to Bond with L; it's about L deciding that he himself is willing. So far, there hasn't been an opportunity he has considered acceptable, save for the SQUIP. Who is, much like L's frequent trusted companion back home, an actual computer.]

The SQUIP won't be an issue. It's not Bonded solely to me, and jealousy isn't as much of an issue for machines.

[L's noted this with both the SQUIP and Connor, but there's something he's not saying. The SQUIP has undergone a very radical change very recently, resulting from the same incident that injured L. There could well be more of a human than a machine residing in its body, now, and with it the jealousy expected of a human.

It remains to be seen.]

[onamissile]

[Jealousy has always been — will always be — an issue for Mello. Whether or not he decides to act on it at any point is up in the air; he fully understands that multiple Bonds are commonplace. He already knows that the bond between L and the SQUIP goes far above a business agreement; they made that clear from the moment Mello stepped foot into their home. And really? There are no romantic intentions towards L; the thought is outright degrading. But Mello is a selfish thing, and the possibility of L prioritizing the SQUIP is something that already weighs heavily enough on him for it to be an annoyance.]

[And hell, it hasn't even happened yet.]

[He only nods at L's response; tomorrow, then. Before his mentor has the chance to change his mind. While unlikely, anything is within the realm of impossibility, and Mello? Well. He's just impatient. He would do it now if it were solely up to him.]

Mm.

[A hum of acknowledgement. What's done is done; there's nothing else to say on the matter, is there? Neither one of them can possibly predict exactly how this will play out, but Mello — the eternal child — has high hopes concerning their future in this arrangement. He's finished drinking; L is becoming a bit blurry around the edges, so he removes his hand from the glass altogether before carefully rising from his seat.]

[His movements are visibly slower. Languid. Eyes a bit lazy. He makes his way around the table with well-planned steps, hip bumping the edge ever so gently before he acts on pure impulse (isn't that what he does?). The blonde leans down near his mentor, moves in to press lips against the other's temple before L can possibly retreat. Maybe he'll pull away; maybe he won't. It's not sexual in the least. At least that's what he tells himself.]

[They're simply sealing a deal. Nothing more, nothing less.]

[hearthebell]

[L is a fickle thing, strange and inconsistent and unpredictable at times. But once he's made and committed to a decision, he's unlikely to renege, to a fault even. Some indeterminate amount of time ago, he made the decision to Bond with Mello, either because he deemed it beneficial or because he recognized that Mello's determination and energy exceed his own, and that he would be unlikely to stop asking, and then demanding. This way, at least, it's on his own terms, and as much as Mello might think he is the moon and stars, and God in one human avatar, he is brittle and tired. He can't sustain that kind of chase with one of his own, not without someone getting destroyed in the process.

If there is a chance that things may go well, versus a virtual certainty that they will not, the choice is clear.

He sits still after setting his empty glass of Kahlua in front of him. He feels it, feels all he's had to drink this evening buzzing in his head and silencing the ache that still lingers from his injury, and watches Mello's weaving visage as it rises from its seat. He doesn't expect the kiss, but neither is he particularly surprised by it, in truth. He knows that Mello's devotion to him is practically religious in nature, and that Mello has already witnessed a Bonded pair, the affection that he may well expect as a result of establishing that kind of intimate mental and spiritual connection. He doesn't pull away, remains, rather, as still as the dead.

He nods afterward, brisk acceptance or resignation. They'll see how it goes, together, because even L can't aptly predict such a volatile and dangerous thing with any amount of accuracy.]

[onamissile]

[Oh, Mello believes with everything he has that he can predict this. Someone like him is unwilling to give up that level of control so easily. He's always been master of his own fate, and this?]

[Is just another outcome in his favor.]

I've an open tab.

[Though he absolutely does not intend on drinking anymore tonight. His hand brushes L's shoulder as he steadies himself, begins to make his departure.]

Happy birthday. It's on me.

[A small squeeze of what should be reassurance before he moves to leave his mentor behind. Truth is? Mello has to process this agreement; prepare himself to put up walls where necessary and break down L's. He can't do that staring his mentor in the eye. So he'll disappear into the crowd; leave L to come to his own conclusions regarding their future. Together; the way it was always supposed to be in one way or another.]