[ Heard loud and clear. John looks back at L with the same sense of exhausted acknowledgment, enemies eye-to-eye. They see each other clearly, and there's a certain gravity to that. He can think only of the dead woman he had tied to a chair, six months or a lifetime ago: some revenants are built different.
Still: he has a bit to play. John splays his hands wearily and looks to Light, as though to say: are you seeing this? And people call him the aggressor. As though he's not regularly forced to pry this guy out of his brain with a crowbar; as though anyone in his position wouldn't make it hurt. ]
And here I thought I might get to stop setting wards.
[ Lazarus will make him snap back every time, and take the flack that comes with it. He knows it. It's a maddeningly effective strategy if the goal is to wheedle John into cruelty, counting all his weak spots along the way. ]
no subject
Still: he has a bit to play. John splays his hands wearily and looks to Light, as though to say: are you seeing this? And people call him the aggressor. As though he's not regularly forced to pry this guy out of his brain with a crowbar; as though anyone in his position wouldn't make it hurt. ]
And here I thought I might get to stop setting wards.
[ Lazarus will make him snap back every time, and take the flack that comes with it. He knows it. It's a maddeningly effective strategy if the goal is to wheedle John into cruelty, counting all his weak spots along the way. ]