[L's waiting hand is steady; the clearest and most productive mind is an unemotional one, and while he has his share of desire and darkness, he's always been uncommonly good at walling off, partitioning, producing. If Myr could see his eyes, he might be struck by how they stare, focused, into a middle distance that doesn't seem to have anything to do with their purpose.
Of course, it has everything to do with their purpose. It remains unshaken and stern in the face of Myr's anger; it's not, after all, directed at L. There's no reason to flinch.]
He's got nothing. I might despise him... but I would not misrepresent that truth if it was really a part of him. He knows that.
[He could be looking for a reliable way to trick a diviner, but... ah. That's all to be dealt with another time, and L is encouraged by initial, surface probing into Myr's thoughts. His hurt and disgust and the strain aside, he is, in the end, reliably Myr.]
He's probably afraid, and... he really should be.
[L sounds quite pleased about this. Some of his darkness slips past its partition for just a moment, but he gets it in check again, promptly.]
There's good news... you seem OK. I don't think you're under thrall of his influence on even a moderate level.
[...but. That means, indeed, that this is all Myr.]
Can you try to clear your mind? I realize that's easier said than done, but... if you're having difficulty, it helps, sometimes, to imagine a featureless expanse. A desert, or...
[A moor, a tundra, a dark patch of sky. Why does something still seem wrong?]
no subject
Of course, it has everything to do with their purpose. It remains unshaken and stern in the face of Myr's anger; it's not, after all, directed at L. There's no reason to flinch.]
He's got nothing. I might despise him... but I would not misrepresent that truth if it was really a part of him. He knows that.
[He could be looking for a reliable way to trick a diviner, but... ah. That's all to be dealt with another time, and L is encouraged by initial, surface probing into Myr's thoughts. His hurt and disgust and the strain aside, he is, in the end, reliably Myr.]
He's probably afraid, and... he really should be.
[L sounds quite pleased about this. Some of his darkness slips past its partition for just a moment, but he gets it in check again, promptly.]
There's good news... you seem OK. I don't think you're under thrall of his influence on even a moderate level.
[...but. That means, indeed, that this is all Myr.]
Can you try to clear your mind? I realize that's easier said than done, but... if you're having difficulty, it helps, sometimes, to imagine a featureless expanse. A desert, or...
[A moor, a tundra, a dark patch of sky. Why does something still seem wrong?]