Take care, when you do. This world isn't like those we've come from.
[He will not threaten, nor make explicit that he would stand in Mello's way if he could, should the other man truly intend something akin to murder. This isn't the time for that argument, with a hideous grief thick between them; and besides, Myr's an inkling--given Linden--that his standing on that point here and now would not be an effective deterrent.
Given Linden. Something in that thought, something in He's a father to me breaks through Myr's hesitation at last and he reaches to touch fingers to Linden's wrist. To remind himself a pulse still beats there, that there's still warmth to that body that lies still as a corpse.
Maybe, maybe, something in the touch and the desperate worry that moves him to it will get through and call Linden back. Storybook reasoning, neither logical nor coherent, but what he'd beg the Maker for all the same.]
He's my dear friend. [The translation magic that makes them comprehensible to each other would not stutter over the word he uses, even though it's not in Common but in his father's tongue--Tevene intimus. Nearest and dearest, a brother of the heart.] And my responsibility as well, for all I put him here.
[Perhaps it's a good thing that Myr doesn't possess the ability to see; Mello's expression when the other lays his had on L is something positively murderous. It's temporary: a fleeting rise in rageful emotion that passes as quickly as it arrives. Mello has never known L's life — not really — and it would be absurd of him to assume that he's never possessed a single connection with another individual.]
[Myr's words are genuine, that much is an easy tell. He wishes L no ill-will. Whatever happened: it happened by accident and with Mello being the reckless thing that he is, he understands how these things can happen.]
[That doesn't, however, denote forgiveness.]
Take care of him, then.
[As though he's in any place to give orders. Mello's ego has always been larger than the earth, itself.]
I'm not leaving for a while.
[Read: deal with it. It will take everything Mello has to avoid curling up next to L in this bed while he lies lifeless and Mello takes the rest he's so needed since arriving here.]
Just know this:
[Maybe it's a threat; maybe it isn't.]
I'll do anything to keep him safe. If you prove to be a problem, you become my enemy.
He doesn't like that he did, doesn't like what it says about his fundamental and immediate negative view of the other man, but he knew the threat was coming before it was uttered.
There's something deliberate in the way he takes up Linden's hand, presses his friend's nerveless palm before setting it gently back on the bed.]
Perfectly, serah. [Oh, he understands.]
The feeling is mutual. I would do a great deal to protect him myself.
[It's said quietly, politely, to sound like agreement. Maybe it isn't even a threat.
Maybe it is. He may be a Monster in a world of Witches, he may appear unassuming and crippled, but he is not without recourse of his own.
Breathing out a low sigh, Myr turns away from Linden's bedside, to retreat to his vigil and prayers.]
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faithlikeaseed) wrote2019-08-01 12:00 am
no subject
[He will not threaten, nor make explicit that he would stand in Mello's way if he could, should the other man truly intend something akin to murder. This isn't the time for that argument, with a hideous grief thick between them; and besides, Myr's an inkling--given Linden--that his standing on that point here and now would not be an effective deterrent.
Given Linden. Something in that thought, something in He's a father to me breaks through Myr's hesitation at last and he reaches to touch fingers to Linden's wrist. To remind himself a pulse still beats there, that there's still warmth to that body that lies still as a corpse.
Maybe, maybe, something in the touch and the desperate worry that moves him to it will get through and call Linden back. Storybook reasoning, neither logical nor coherent, but what he'd beg the Maker for all the same.]
He's my dear friend. [The translation magic that makes them comprehensible to each other would not stutter over the word he uses, even though it's not in Common but in his father's tongue--Tevene intimus. Nearest and dearest, a brother of the heart.] And my responsibility as well, for all I put him here.
I am sorry.
no subject
[Myr's words are genuine, that much is an easy tell. He wishes L no ill-will. Whatever happened: it happened by accident and with Mello being the reckless thing that he is, he understands how these things can happen.]
[That doesn't, however, denote forgiveness.]
Take care of him, then.
[As though he's in any place to give orders. Mello's ego has always been larger than the earth, itself.]
I'm not leaving for a while.
[Read: deal with it. It will take everything Mello has to avoid curling up next to L in this bed while he lies lifeless and Mello takes the rest he's so needed since arriving here.]
Just know this:
[Maybe it's a threat; maybe it isn't.]
I'll do anything to keep him safe. If you prove to be a problem, you become my enemy.
[Blunt as it comes.]
Understand me?
no subject
He doesn't like that he did, doesn't like what it says about his fundamental and immediate negative view of the other man, but he knew the threat was coming before it was uttered.
There's something deliberate in the way he takes up Linden's hand, presses his friend's nerveless palm before setting it gently back on the bed.]
Perfectly, serah. [Oh, he understands.]
The feeling is mutual. I would do a great deal to protect him myself.
[It's said quietly, politely, to sound like agreement. Maybe it isn't even a threat.
Maybe it is. He may be a Monster in a world of Witches, he may appear unassuming and crippled, but he is not without recourse of his own.
Breathing out a low sigh, Myr turns away from Linden's bedside, to retreat to his vigil and prayers.]