[The moment Light left the ghost room, he was a child again: it's probably for the best. But some things never change, and he isn't sure what the date is, apart from "probably close to Christmas
( Read more... )
*L is still all of three years old, and wandering around, because the mansion is the perfect environment for tiny children to explore. Only now he seems to be stuck inside a Christmas stocking. He tries to shuffle forward, but loses his balance and trips.
He hasn't started crying yet, but there's some definite lip-wobbling.*
*Unfortunately, even at this age L was a little odd about personal contact; there are very few people he allows to handle him this closely. He begins wriggling in Light's arms, trying to get down.*
[Light looks around hopefully - perhaps someone else will help out? Except there's no sign of anything, very much. He picks up a cookie from a plate on the counter - it's triangular, iced in green like a Christmas tree - walks over to you, drops into a crouch and shoves it in your mouth.]
No need to cry. There's plenty more pebbles on the beach, and fish in the sea.
[What he says isn't the point: it's more the ripple of friendly chatter.]
*L manages to wriggle his arms loose, though he's apparently unable to free himself from the stocking entirely. The candy is more than enough to stop him from crying; his parents never let him have this much sugar.*
[The look across is assessing, solemn, careful. He's remembering the certainty of being that small - of knowing how the world worked, and the people, while everyone around him insisted he didn't. Cookies aren't pets: they aren't alive.]
*L is still all of three years old, and wandering around, because the mansion is the perfect environment for tiny children to explore. Only now he seems to be stuck inside a Christmas stocking. He tries to shuffle forward, but loses his balance and trips.
He hasn't started crying yet, but there's some definite lip-wobbling.*
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Down!
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
No need to cry. There's plenty more pebbles on the beach, and fish in the sea.
[What he says isn't the point: it's more the ripple of friendly chatter.]
Reply
*L manages to wriggle his arms loose, though he's apparently unable to free himself from the stocking entirely. The candy is more than enough to stop him from crying; his parents never let him have this much sugar.*
Fish?
Reply
Reply
Do you?
Reply
[He does: they're attractive and inoffensive, and they make no distracting noise.]
I used to keep them. They died. Do you have any pets, besides cookies?
Reply
*His face is pretty impassive, but yes: it's a joke, an intentional one. He wonders if Light will notice. Most grown-ups tend not to.*
Reply
You're smarter than you pretend, aren't you.
Can you read yet?
Reply
Lots of things.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment