[L's inclination to lean back is existent. Like so much of what he wishes for, it feels taboo, like something he was audacious to even desire. Sitting with Myr awhile is for others, those kinder, gentler, and nobler. L leaves the quilt and takes the staff; L will focus, and consider, and slowly, the unnecessary weight will fall away, and he'll be left with his perfect, elegant runes.
He steps away, starts slowly, gaining confidence as he goes and realizes the ease and beauty of etching in sand. The desert is vast, but at the very least, it's assured that when L traces symbols around any cluster of red-rimmed eyes, they will close, if not vanish outright.
His skill is not yet perfect. He's not a witch with the benefit of a lifetime to study one discipline, but he's whip-smart, actually brilliant. There's hope for people like him, in their particular situation. He can still be worthy of something, in spite of what he brings to the table paltry and underwhelming. There's some kind of productive recourse even if he lacks and languishes, and is no kind of man.
The lines are steady, precise, and careful. No one could find an error in these runes, traced under Myr's moonlight. No one could call them selfish, or aggrieved, or deadened. They're for Myr, offered the way a man incapable of loving might present them.]
no subject
He steps away, starts slowly, gaining confidence as he goes and realizes the ease and beauty of etching in sand. The desert is vast, but at the very least, it's assured that when L traces symbols around any cluster of red-rimmed eyes, they will close, if not vanish outright.
His skill is not yet perfect. He's not a witch with the benefit of a lifetime to study one discipline, but he's whip-smart, actually brilliant. There's hope for people like him, in their particular situation. He can still be worthy of something, in spite of what he brings to the table paltry and underwhelming. There's some kind of productive recourse even if he lacks and languishes, and is no kind of man.
The lines are steady, precise, and careful. No one could find an error in these runes, traced under Myr's moonlight. No one could call them selfish, or aggrieved, or deadened. They're for Myr, offered the way a man incapable of loving might present them.]