[open-ish. || burying the voices of my conscious hitting ground]

[l_shrugged]

Who: L Lawliet l_shrugged || Irene halcyonthird || Open to anyone at Headquarters?
When: A day after this.
Where: Patrol Headquarters.
Format: Action (whoamikidding) - though any is welcome.
What: L's meeting with Irene in order to discuss her experiences with the mist, and likely further nosiness.
Warnings: Will add as they come.

Comments

[halcyonthird]

[She does not keep him waiting overlong.

There's an unintended cautiousness about her steps as she enters the room and finds it occupied. It has nothing to do with her visitor (it's hard to guess his age, she's unused to having to do so among her own kind) and everything to do with the recently awoken fear.

Gnawing in her gut long after the initial shock has passed. Passed and drawn inward and coiled itself nice and neat against her ribcage like a faintly mocking smirk.

This distraction is welcome. As the fight had been before it. One fear to the next, and perhaps the next?]

Hideki Ryuuga?

[Slight incline of her head, and she'll sit if he does not rise, leaving a bit of distance between them.]

[l_shrugged]

[Despite the initially feeble appearance of a fairly thin and pale hunched figure, his movements are confident, feet dropping from the chair casually and the scuffling of a man not put off by his unfamiliar surroundings.

His bland gaze lingers fleetingly on the unnaturally tinted eyes, briefly comparing them to several other females within Anatole with whom he'd interacted. It's a nice color. Pretty. But very unusual. It didn't require the world's top detective to deduce some relation between the women. However, they're here to discuss the mist; not her past. Pressing one's nose into a doorway often leads to a sharp pain, ringing ears and partially burnt bridges.

His hand extends, a sign of respect, spidery digits partially bent in preparation to return a grip and his eyes are trained on her taller figure. Were he not hunching, he would likely be forced to lift his chin similarly.]

Miss Irene. Is it a good time?

[halcyonthird]

[Appearances mean little to her, especially in this place.

She is used to being looked at with curiosity. Fear. Suspicion, even. Perhaps not as used to it as her peers, but spending over a decade in hiding has a great deal to do with that.

She is also very familiar with one's outward appearance belying what lurks just beneath - her own calm a carefully constructed wall against roiling and shifting chaos and panic.]

As good as any.

[Extends her hand to grip his in greeting. Firm, fleeting and now seated, she asks:]

What is it you require?