[anotp: muraki] your dark intentions

[justiceis_red]

Light is lost in a book. Not a particularly good one, but he feels the need to get lost in it nonetheless. It is, as usual, information, research, this time on a particular person that he wants, sorely, to be rid of. An enemy, even. Someone it is possible to unreservedly hate, and yet at the same time...unnerves him. More than L

Comments

[silvereyedphage]

Muraki was on his way into the library, as bad luck would have it, returning a volume of Baudelaire he'd been reading, and looking for something heavier this time, specifically, a volume of Alestair Crowley he found he hadn't read yet.

Thus he passes by Light's table, jacket off, summer-weight waistcoat unbuttoned, cuffs rolled back and his shirt collar open to the third button. The tome that the young man is studying catches his attention and he pauses, cocking his head.

"Delving into occult lore, Mister Yagami? I'm surprised: you've always struck me as a rather practical young man," he remarks. And his surprise is genuine, indeed.

This could prove useful...

[justiceis_red]

Light, in the meantime, is dressed the same as ever. Button-down shirt, tie, sleeves all the way down, khaki slacks. He makes no concessions to heat. (Or concessions in general, really.)

He glances up slightly startled, but collects himself a moment later and smiles thinly. "I'm surprised. In this place, I should think you would realize that the study of the occult becomes most thoroughly practical."

[silvereyedphage]

"I took you for a more skeptical man, but perhaps I mis-read you," he says, perching himself on the edge of the table across from Light, facing him. "You seem to be adapting well to this place and its strangeness, if you are seeking to find an explanation for the things you have likely witnessed."

[justiceis_red]

"Skeptical, sure," Light says, "But not unreasonable. When faced with new information, it is invaluable to be able to adapt. A quick mind knows when to do so."

He turns a page, glancing back down to the book, as though unbothered by Muraki's presence (patently untrue).