ic inbox (aefenglom)

[oftheletter]

(Original inbox was here.)



[All private messages to L/Near can be left here.]

Comments

[hearthebell]

[Small mercies. If these continue, Near could be considered downright benevolent. In any case, L's learned, quickly, that it's wisest to proceed assuming that Near knows things as opposed to assuming that any number of secrets are safe from him. Furthermore, Near doesn't get off on the game, at least not in the precise way that L and Light do. To be his ally, it's in L's best interest to be straightforward, at least have the intention of getting around to the truth rather than obfuscating or omitting and hoping that it goes unnoticed.

Maybe his skill is no longer great enough when compared with his more seasoned successor. It's also possible that a sense of honor or duty compels him more after a year Bonded to his Faun that it would have, prior. Maybe his obsession, wholly unchanged in all that time, is so obvious that he recognizes the inherent futility in trying to distract from it.

Better not to focus on present folly. Better to address what he can refute, with experience from past folly and evidence to back it up.]

It's very different from Mello. That was a mistake.

[So is this, just in different ways.]

I was building a second witch Bond onto an existing one, with no monster to balance it out. In this case, I have Myr.

[Still has Myr, though he's unsure how their present distance bodes for a future alongside the obsession that can't go ignored, that will always stand to devour him.]

On his side... one witch Bond alone won't be enough to pose immediate danger. I won't allow him to go without a monster at the first sign he's struggling to cycle his magic. I'll know when that happens, whether or not he tells me; of the two of us, I have more experience with attempts to keep things hidden within a Bond.

[He's uncommonly good at it, actually, something Near knows from their time temporarily Bonded. There are partitions and walls and snagging barbed wire in places; if he's decided to keep Near's connection to him from Light Yagami, a Bond won't threaten that aim.]

...you remain without a permanent Bond with a witch. Is this correct?

[oftheletter]

[Near doesn't believe his own bond with Mello would have been a mistake. They were two sides of a coin, always had been. He would have been dealing with the other's ridiculous personality, but he would have had Near's sensibilities to counter it. That bond would have worked, and he won't get to see it now.

Maybe it's part of the reason he's had difficulty finding another bond sense, but if so that's not an issue he'll address any time in the foreseeable future.

In any case, there's plenty he could argue on the grounds of this being a mistake as well. But that would be pointless. The bond is already in place. The game between them has started anew and Near is merely a spectator. For now.]

Yes.

[He doesn't hesitate in his answer, doesn't feel ashamed of it. Of course he should have a proper bond by now. It's been months. It's been some time since his temporary one as well, though he's not quite feeling that feral itch yet. He believes he can get one soon enough and he doesn't see the need to supply excuses.]

Were you planning on offering?

[hearthebell]

[The answer doesn't carry the weight of shame, nor does it surprise L. He has had difficulty finding Bonds in the past, and Near might be the only person in any world whose interpersonal skills are more lackluster than L's.

He had said that he would look for a Bond for Near. He has, when his own affairs spare him time to look, and truthfully, no one has stood out. No one has seemed passable, in the sense that they and Near would be able to tolerate each other for long.]

That was always, implicitly, an offer. If you felt you couldn't do better.

[As is usually the case, L's self-deprecation is more realistic than insecure. He's many things: brilliant, tenacious, driven in that mad and pure way that seems unique to savants of a particular calibre. He is also complicated, almost as poor at dealing with others as Near and almost as self-destructive as Mello. He makes for a punishing and expensive Bond where one is lucky to break even, where the good is bundled inextricably with the bad like two bits of melted candy that have fused together and hardened into a sticky mess.]

You're not Mello; you have that going for you.

[That hero-worship that is one exposed flaw away from contempt, which is one misstep away from hatred. Near already knows that L isn't God; Near believes in no such creature. It's immensely relieving to one who could be crushed or smothered beneath that weight; the fact that Mello had almost murdered him in their Bond was grim testament to the fact. L has gone toe to toe with successors before, putting them in their place and even in prison, but Mello and Near are owed a unique debt. He lingered too long in the poisonous parts of the Kira case. In laying the groundwork for Near's success years later, he took too many detours, enjoyed himself a little too much on the scenic path. He could have been more efficient; he could have won, with a few more days, that edge lasting just a bit longer.

A shame, and a waste, and blissful enough that it had warranted an instant Bond when his enemy arrived in Aefenglom.]

It would be a compatible Bond, and a net positive for both of us, likely.

[Very stable. No heady wildfires, like the bombastic drama Mello would have flung Near's way. If anything, the balance will tip too far into phlegmatic blandness. Then again, L could be giving Near too little credit. Near, after all, has grown a decade, surpassed L in years and attained his own experience as the world's premier detective. As he'd glimpsed and tasted during their fleeting temporary Bond, there's a soft and stark peace that settles in the wake of sharing that connection with the one person who has not just carried the title, but also truly been L in their world.]

[oftheletter]

[You're not Mello. No, no he never has been. If he'd been like Mello, things would have been far more complicated growing up. But would L have been more likely to share stories with him then, he wonders?

Such an old question. Best forgotten. Not that he's really capable of forgetting most things.]

Then I accept.

[He says this with a casual decisiveness, as though he hadn't denied the man the possibility before. As if he hadn't wanted to look anywhere else for a potential attachment. He says it as if it's the first time it's been brought up and turning away the offer wouldn't even be reasonable.

Is it because of Light? Does he need this connection to be closer to their shared rival? No, that's not the right word. Light had never been his rival. Kira had never been his rival. Kira had been his adversary. His true rival is no longer here, and even someone of Light's caliber could live up to that role.

Could he do better than L? The word choice isn't a good one. He could do differently than L. He could choose someone with fewer strings attached. But to say that would be better would be to look at the matter from the wrong perspective.

Near says nothing else, giving the other man a long, steady look with his unblinking reptilian eyes.]

[hearthebell]

[When they were Bonded temporarily, L had gleaned insight that wasn't precisely new, but certainly deeper, when it came to Near's manner of dealing with conflict and difficulty. For Near to ask would mean that he was desperate and had no other options, at least... that was true before he'd woken up ten years older. Perhaps he'd taken what L had said to heart; perhaps wisdom has dented pride.

Perhaps, like L, he had missed the kindred company of a Bond with someone who saw the world through the same side of a one-way mirror, and for such a long time. Maybe it's easier to appreciate and accept how difficult it all was in someone else... unless, for some other reason, L abused and neglected his own needs while effectively outsourcing a self-preservation instinct onto the successor who has not yet died in their world.

Near isn't him; they are separate men, inhabiting different bodies, coming to their own conclusions with distinct minds. That aside, they had shared a name. Regardless of how that happens, whether through voluntary union or birth, most other humans consider it significant to share a name, too, and it is therefore the closest thing either of the grown orphans have to a familial connection.

He wasn't prepared for Near to accept now, or easily... but he had been prepared for Near to accept. Otherwise, he would not have offered. It would have been a lie to tell him, then, that he would remain as long as he was needed, and that Near only had to ask. In his roundabout and indirect way, Near had done so; it falls to L to maintain his end of the bargain, maintain what's owed and cyclical.

He stares back. It's uncertain whether even L will be able to win a staring contest with a snake. So far, though, no blinks.]

We'll do it, then.

[Simple, straightforward. A verbal contract that leaves no room for misinterpretation.]

If you can last for another ten or so days, though... my Bond with him is still fresh and settling. Considering the timing of a Parliamentary affair that is important to me, it would be best to wait just a bit longer before introducing a new element.

[A Bond with Near will not be volatile. It also might impede L's efforts to win over key people in securing funding for the orphanage; given how withdrawn and unpleasant both of them can be, it might be a rough time for the colors of Near's personality to tint parts of his own. He's playing with a limited social deck already, even while Bonded to one who is kind and gentle, and one who is brilliant at affecting as much convincingly.

Myr rises to meet the fledgling spark in L that seeks to do something good for the world, perhaps kindled by whatever inclination had suggested justice as an inspiration before life and experience had warped his perception of it. Light quietly pulls at the restless dark in him, toward unseen secret depths that could be very safe, where he could learn so much, and also be killed far from any hope of rescue. Their influence is roughly equal, occasionally overlapping, and from what he remembers of his Bond with Near while guessing how it might fit in with the other Bondmates, well...

Near surpassed him; Near survived. Near is a collection of greys that could precede dawn or dusk, providing just enough light to see his way with no noise or distractions. A grounding Bond, in other words, a center of gravity for the same sorts of flaws and folly that ruled Mello. Harmonious with the qualities he shares with L, and complementary, at least, to those he doesn't, a Bond with Near offers balance.

He still doesn't blink, but he cants his dark, shaggy head until the longer uneven layers graze his shoulder. Once, it might have seemed like appraisal, but there's more to it now. L's looking at Near, really seeing him, in the exact way that Mello had demanded and L couldn't deliver and neither of them could define.]

I'm so very glad that we'll be helping each other in this way, Near.

[oftheletter]

[The phrasing makes it sound like a business transaction, but Near isn't going to hold that against L since he would have said basically the same thing. It wouldn't even be unfair to say this was a business transaction, though the near emotionless handling of something that will form part of the foundation of their existences in this world would be out of place for most of the other Mirrorbound.

Near nods. He's sure L is glad. Now he can easily keep track of both people from his world - how fortunate. Of course now he'll have to explain to Light why he decided to bond with a toymaker that both of them happen to be mutually acquainted with. He might be able to hide their prior connection, but the bond itself will be more difficult to keep under wraps.

Would it be considered part of an ongoing obsession, he wonders? A bond with Light's employer. Part of him hopes it's a potential conclusion his old adversary comes to, if only for the narcissism of it all.]

I will wait. It shouldn't be a problem.

[He raises a finger, not pointing it at L even if he might as well be.]

There will be no bringing up how long it took me to reach this decision. [He doesn't care. He doesn't want to hear it. It's happening now. There's ten years of difference and further weeks spent pondering his younger self's decisions to take into account.] Just so we're clear.

[It's a shallow threat. Threats have never been his thing - only results.]

[hearthebell]

[Near was largely a stranger to L before regaining a decade's worth of memories and age. It was only more true after, and while L has gotten glimpses and hints of more going on emotionally beneath the placid surface, so much of Near feels like an optimized and perfected version of an obsolete first draft. It's almost as though someone buffed out all of L's deadly flaws and faults and were left with a hard, cold, genuinely unfeeling diamond. The perception is an inhuman one, to the point where it is a very conscious process to double his mind back, remember that in spite of the illusion, in spite of any neurosis or nurtured stoicism, Near was human, too, and almost certainly wore the mask as well as the title of his predecessor.

Something existed behind that mask. Every human has needs; every human feels isolation eventually, no matter how introverted or standoffish. L knows this, as well as he does because he's lived it in the same manner, but he's still gauging just how much answering humanity Near craves. Beyond that, it's an even more precise and precarious measure to gauge how much he wants from L.

Would it be read as a loser's unimpressive failure, a harbinger of liability to come? Or the sweet relief of permission for Near to let the mask slip a bit, because it's safe to?

He nods, gaze steady and level, in regards to Near's non-negotiable request.]

It isn't important to me.

[What matters is that Near reached the decision; knowing any precise length of time would neither bolster or injure L's ego. He's focused outward, in regards to his successor, and that's probably a good thing, since focusing inward leaves L feeling hollow and desperate for distraction.]

Meet me at the Coven on Monday, the ninth. 5 o'clock, if you can manage it.

[oftheletter]

[One of the perks of owning his own shop is that he gets to set the hours. If he was an anxious person he could set aside the whole day if he wanted. (He won't, of course.) Getting to the Coven at the appointed time won't be an issue at all, so he nods.

It's a date.

No, he can't get himself to say that out loud even as some awkward attempt at a joke.

He doesn't thank the man. The bond hasn't happened yet. For now it's a promise that both of them have to keep, or at least attempt to. Nothing can shake the foundations of Aefenglom until then. Neither of them are allowed to disappear. Or perhaps, if one of them did have to vanish, it would be best if it happened before the bond was made. It would be less painful for the remaining individual. Nothing can happen, is the gist of it, aside from all the things that could.

If they make it to and through the ceremony, he will be grateful.]

I'll be there, Mr. Tailor.