[His dark eyes are steady. The marble gloss of idiocy seems to have dropped away at some indeterminate point, leaving something sharp and clever that's thinking very rapidly at this juncture. They're performing calculations, attempting to determine how much of a threat Mercy poses to his life, the pieces missing from the scene he witnessed, the name that was forbidden to speak in the Emperor's presence because it was just too holy.
Not Mercymorn's. Did she love him, or despise him? Some mixture of the two, some similar heady sentiment to the one that tarnished the kisses she'd shared with Augustine and, by extension, the spying interloper?
Were he aware of Mercy's vileblood spores, already prevailing against an undernourished and under-rested immune system, he might be struck by the irony.
The highly deliberate front of resolved composure catches at that unexpected lift below his navel. His eyes constrict fretfully around the edges, because while he doesn't always know what's right, he generally can tell what blatantly isn't.
When he speaks, his voice sounds like something self-possessed and calm fed through a prism, distorting and scattering little pieces of the effect he intended.]
Strong personalities sow discord naturally. It can't be surprising that he'd have disagreements everywhere he goes.
[But not with just anyone. L's largest advantage is often that he can pass for no one special, a strange shabby human unworthy of a second glance or even passing remembrance. No one like that would draw John's notice, of course, let alone his ire, and certainly not over something like a "disagreement."]
no subject
Not Mercymorn's. Did she love him, or despise him? Some mixture of the two, some similar heady sentiment to the one that tarnished the kisses she'd shared with Augustine and, by extension, the spying interloper?
Were he aware of Mercy's vileblood spores, already prevailing against an undernourished and under-rested immune system, he might be struck by the irony.
The highly deliberate front of resolved composure catches at that unexpected lift below his navel. His eyes constrict fretfully around the edges, because while he doesn't always know what's right, he generally can tell what blatantly isn't.
When he speaks, his voice sounds like something self-possessed and calm fed through a prism, distorting and scattering little pieces of the effect he intended.]
Strong personalities sow discord naturally. It can't be surprising that he'd have disagreements everywhere he goes.
[But not with just anyone. L's largest advantage is often that he can pass for no one special, a strange shabby human unworthy of a second glance or even passing remembrance. No one like that would draw John's notice, of course, let alone his ire, and certainly not over something like a "disagreement."]