[Though L has spent most of time at the camp, preparing for the arrival of the Leviathan, there have been some occasions necessity has dictated slipping away for a period of time. Having exhausted his current literature in his quest to create an antivenom for the neurotoxic creature, he's looking for more, following his typical bizarre (but also absurdly reliable) method for finding exactly what he's looking for.
His arms are already bundled with Chemical Properties of Poisons and Toxins for the Advanced Alchemist by Sergei Yacher, Forceful Fauna of the Very, Very, Very Deep by Plunderus Piddlebus, Comprehending the Old Ones by Nodda Kultisst, and, of course, Exactly What You're Looking For, by Mindful Reckonson. Currently, he's counting his steps and ceiling tiles, alternating and deep in concentration, when his path is interrupted by a table where a man is at work with his own project, one that reeks.
L's eyes have been described, often and inaccurately, as black. In fact, they're dark grey and often overdilated by the low-light conditions he spends most of his time in. The gaze they meet is, in fact, truly black, so much that it startles a rare blink from the scrawny and disheveled younger man.
There's another reason, of course. L's been warned about those eyes.]
Six months? Your reasons must be pressing to inspire that kind of tenacity.
[He adjusts his grip on the books. His searches usually lead him to the large and meaty volumes, an effort to carry with arms so devoid of muscle and fat that his sleeves flap loosely and sadly around them.]
1- Research
His arms are already bundled with Chemical Properties of Poisons and Toxins for the Advanced Alchemist by Sergei Yacher, Forceful Fauna of the Very, Very, Very Deep by Plunderus Piddlebus, Comprehending the Old Ones by Nodda Kultisst, and, of course, Exactly What You're Looking For, by Mindful Reckonson. Currently, he's counting his steps and ceiling tiles, alternating and deep in concentration, when his path is interrupted by a table where a man is at work with his own project, one that reeks.
L's eyes have been described, often and inaccurately, as black. In fact, they're dark grey and often overdilated by the low-light conditions he spends most of his time in. The gaze they meet is, in fact, truly black, so much that it startles a rare blink from the scrawny and disheveled younger man.
There's another reason, of course. L's been warned about those eyes.]
Six months? Your reasons must be pressing to inspire that kind of tenacity.
[He adjusts his grip on the books. His searches usually lead him to the large and meaty volumes, an effort to carry with arms so devoid of muscle and fat that his sleeves flap loosely and sadly around them.]