To Misa, Europe is just this... gigantic, gaping black hole.
So when she steps into the room and sees this not-Japanese terrain filled with sheep, strong-smelling alcohol, massive amounts of tartan and just wonders if she's in that country of with windmills, tulips, and white people who smell like cheese and wears wooden shoes.
There's a faint 'whoosh', and she's sporting a rugby shirt.
Another blink, and she's holding a transcript of Auld Lang Syne.
Takes one look at herself and just groans. She was still recovering from the last room.
No more mansion, NO MORE.
[OOC: Don't shoot me - I swear to god these are the stereotypes for people who don't know anything about Scotland. XD]
Light sees Misa come in, of course - he just doesn't offer her as much as a glance. With the room about him, draining what little good nature he's got right out of him, why would he ever bother? She shouldn't care if he pays attention to her or not.
Obviously she cares. She cares so much more than she would like to admit to herself and so much deeper than she lets on to others. Especially after Aokigahara with its bleak loneliness that consumed a good portion of her mental being.
But Misa hides it. She sees the brunette in her peripheral vision and snatches a uick glance to distinguish which Light this was. Physically, all Lights were built more or less the same (save Wolfy), but the lifespan - ah. So this was the dead one.
...and what was he wearing?
It is then that her sentiment of the room is completely reversed. Best. Room. Ever. Hiding her good humor, Misa strolls over to him with her rugby pride and offers a charming smile in greeting. Despite the warmth behind her smile, Light's sixth sense will hint that she's inwardly laughing at him.
"Hi. I haven't seen you around that much. You look good."
"And you still look like a boy, Misa." It's cold, as he takes in exactly what she's wearing - because he always saw, but wasn't interested, and it was useful if she felt she needed to work hard to please him. Why is it this idiot he has to waste time with?
Her secret mockery isn't secret at all, so his reply's more cutting than it might have been in a different room.
Misa flinches, just slightly, not so much by the content of his words but by the abruptness in which he brushed her off. Just like that. He was definitely the first Light to ever be rude to her.
She blinks, feigning shock, then hangs her head in guilt, looking guilty and vulnerable, the confident persona she wore a second ago gone in an instant.
"Apologies..." she mumbles. "I didn't mean to offend you."
A momentary contemplation of whether or not she should mention she enjoyed looking like a boy - which is quickly invalidated as an option of conversation. Nope, he definitely wouldn't care.
It's a little less curt, now that she's at least pretending to behave better; there are limits to how intolerant he can be of Misas, and he doesn't trust this one to keep to them. She's too clever, too knowing. The knee-length socks with the pink and green banding at the top aren't his, either.
Misa represses a smile; she finds this cutthroat attitude of his intriguing, wondering where it stems from. It must be related with his death. She finds a satisfaction in the thought.
She wonders what else to say. 'Where are we anyway? What's up with the blaring music? And why are you in a skirt? IS EVERYBODY HERE A J-ROCKER?!'
She weighs the possible conversation scenarios in her head. If I compliment him, then... if I ask him a question... if I hug, okay no.. None of them yielded a happy Light, if her own Light was any standard to go by.
When she thinks about it, most Lights were never good conversation anyway. Especially in these types of situations. She just loved them for no tangible reason.
He still looked ridiculous, though.
Resigning to the fact that their conversation wasn't going to last another two minutes, she throws off the timid facade and gives him a simple, but geniune and happy beam,
"You don't seem like you want to talk," - but I don't think you ever do with my type. "Nothing much is going on with me and there's nothing I really want," - from you. "I just want to check up on how you're doing, Light."
Light barely glances towards her, but the smile does register. Is it genuine, or is she just concealing her true feelings more effectively? The coming and going between moods is itself suspicious; she's a liar, and she's more than prepared to lie to him.
As laconic as a crofter who hasn't seen another human being for 20 years, he replies, "You do that." But he doesn't turn his back on her; just watches, from his outrageous pink and green finery.
Her beam widens at his response. The fact he does not turn his back to the news of her departure serves a victory in her head. A tilt of the head, eyes closing, and a tiny, cheerful wave -
"Bye~"
'Bye, Light~'
'Bye~ See you soon.'
'Bye~ Call me when you need me.'
Then she turns around, ambling away towards the stream and the table of strange-smelling beverages. After a calculated amount of distance, she turns around, looking back to see him again.
Light is still contemplating her, head just a little tilted. It's odd, the feeling that he should have said more, and didn't. He knows what he should say - all the words, for better or worse? Hardly. More to make things come out exactly as he wishes. But today, for reasons he can't put his finger on, he can't bear the thought of speaking to her. Catching her eye, sour-faced, he turns away with a visible huff.
It would certainly be possible to use her, this Misa - but if he can't trust her, she's worse than useless to him. Unreliable and totally expendable, in a place where he can't eliminate her. A waste of his time.
Stalking off down the hillside, he doesn't look back.
A grin radiates on her face. His huffiness is cute. It was so rare for her to see any real negative emotion from a Light - they hid it so well. They were always composed, presenting themselves as untouchable. But this one...
She giggles. Wonders about the next time they'll talk.
Soon, Misa is distracted at the sight of the sheep. Oh my god the sheep are real - it's like ... Harvest Moon!!
Abandoning her quest to the scotch, she diverts her goal to a sheep-petting expedition.
*L has been in the mansion long enough that he doesn't seem surprised by how different Misa looks in comparison to everyone else who has come into the room so far: these things happen. The rugby jersey, though, is amusing, and he meanders over to her, crunching away at a wedge of shortbread. He tilts his head, taking in her appearance.*
Maybe you will be able to persuade one of Light's analogues to change clothes with you. Behind a tree, yes?
*His tone has the same bright note it has had in his other conversations here; his angular figure, all elbows and knees and deep slouch, is not in any way flattered by the kilt he has chosen to ignore.*
She, just, sorta ... blanches at the sight of L. Visibly. Recoils back, as if she was bitten.
Luckily, his non-conventional appearance softens the blow and Misa manages to regain herself without going into a psychological breakdown. She had barely registered what L had said, her mind being a dazed jumble, and takes a few moments to rewind her mental tape recorder.
Misa shakes her head.
"The ones I've saw so far all look like cross-dressing pansies, but frankly, I like my... athletic shirt. Thing. ...and this music sheet."
*L doesn't react to Misa's show of horror at all, except by raising his eyebrows. Because they are mostly hidden by his hair, the only real effect is to make his eyes look wider, making him appear to be more interested in what she's said than he actually is.*
"Cross-dressing pansies"? If they are cross-dressing, their clothes might flatter you. You are wearing a rugby jersey.
There's a good part of her that wants to ask him to go away. And then there's just sudden stubbornness that she can't quite explain - the feeling makes her want to stand her ground. Really, why should SHE leave?
"You know, I'm really tired of people implying that what I'm wearing is too masculine on me." Snark. "I'm a freaking supermodel; I look good in everything. And I have no idea what this horrid music is that I'm listening to."
So when she steps into the room and sees this not-Japanese terrain filled with sheep, strong-smelling alcohol, massive amounts of tartan and just wonders if she's in that country of with windmills, tulips, and white people who smell like cheese and wears wooden shoes.
There's a faint 'whoosh', and she's sporting a rugby shirt.
Another blink, and she's holding a transcript of Auld Lang Syne.
Takes one look at herself and just groans. She was still recovering from the last room.
No more mansion, NO MORE.
[OOC: Don't shoot me - I swear to god these are the stereotypes for people who don't know anything about Scotland. XD]
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But Misa hides it. She sees the brunette in her peripheral vision and snatches a uick glance to distinguish which Light this was. Physically, all Lights were built more or less the same (save Wolfy), but the lifespan - ah. So this was the dead one.
...and what was he wearing?
It is then that her sentiment of the room is completely reversed. Best. Room. Ever. Hiding her good humor, Misa strolls over to him with her rugby pride and offers a charming smile in greeting. Despite the warmth behind her smile, Light's sixth sense will hint that she's inwardly laughing at him.
"Hi. I haven't seen you around that much. You look good."
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Her secret mockery isn't secret at all, so his reply's more cutting than it might have been in a different room.
Reply
She blinks, feigning shock, then hangs her head in guilt, looking guilty and vulnerable, the confident persona she wore a second ago gone in an instant.
"Apologies..." she mumbles. "I didn't mean to offend you."
A momentary contemplation of whether or not she should mention she enjoyed looking like a boy - which is quickly invalidated as an option of conversation. Nope, he definitely wouldn't care.
She nibbles her lips.
"Mansion holds a grudge against you, methinks."
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It's a little less curt, now that she's at least pretending to behave better; there are limits to how intolerant he can be of Misas, and he doesn't trust this one to keep to them. She's too clever, too knowing. The knee-length socks with the pink and green banding at the top aren't his, either.
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She wonders what else to say. 'Where are we anyway? What's up with the blaring music? And why are you in a skirt? IS EVERYBODY HERE A J-ROCKER?!'
She weighs the possible conversation scenarios in her head. If I compliment him, then... if I ask him a question... if I hug, okay no.. None of them yielded a happy Light, if her own Light was any standard to go by.
"Ummm..."
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When she thinks about it, most Lights were never good conversation anyway. Especially in these types of situations. She just loved them for no tangible reason.
He still looked ridiculous, though.
Resigning to the fact that their conversation wasn't going to last another two minutes, she throws off the timid facade and gives him a simple, but geniune and happy beam,
"You don't seem like you want to talk," - but I don't think you ever do with my type. "Nothing much is going on with me and there's nothing I really want," - from you. "I just want to check up on how you're doing, Light."
"I'll leave you now."
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As laconic as a crofter who hasn't seen another human being for 20 years, he replies, "You do that." But he doesn't turn his back on her; just watches, from his outrageous pink and green finery.
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"Bye~"
'Bye, Light~'
'Bye~ See you soon.'
'Bye~ Call me when you need me.'
Then she turns around, ambling away towards the stream and the table of strange-smelling beverages. After a calculated amount of distance, she turns around, looking back to see him again.
Reply
It would certainly be possible to use her, this Misa - but if he can't trust her, she's worse than useless to him. Unreliable and totally expendable, in a place where he can't eliminate her. A waste of his time.
Stalking off down the hillside, he doesn't look back.
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She giggles. Wonders about the next time they'll talk.
Soon, Misa is distracted at the sight of the sheep. Oh my god the sheep are real - it's like ... Harvest Moon!!
Abandoning her quest to the scotch, she diverts her goal to a sheep-petting expedition.
Reply
Maybe you will be able to persuade one of Light's analogues to change clothes with you. Behind a tree, yes?
*His tone has the same bright note it has had in his other conversations here; his angular figure, all elbows and knees and deep slouch, is not in any way flattered by the kilt he has chosen to ignore.*
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Luckily, his non-conventional appearance softens the blow and Misa manages to regain herself without going into a psychological breakdown. She had barely registered what L had said, her mind being a dazed jumble, and takes a few moments to rewind her mental tape recorder.
Misa shakes her head.
"The ones I've saw so far all look like cross-dressing pansies, but frankly, I like my... athletic shirt. Thing. ...and this music sheet."
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"Cross-dressing pansies"? If they are cross-dressing, their clothes might flatter you. You are wearing a rugby jersey.
Is the music the same as what we hear?
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"You know, I'm really tired of people implying that what I'm wearing is too masculine on me." Snark. "I'm a freaking supermodel; I look good in everything. And I have no idea what this horrid music is that I'm listening to."
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