http://siafukira.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] siafukira.livejournal.com) wrote in [personal profile] siafukira 2010-08-17 04:11 am (UTC)

The minimal exposure Light's had to the standard-model L has been enough for him to learn certain of their patterns. As well as the speech he's already noted, he's seen the clothes, and the absence of visible weapons. He's seen the absence of the scar, too, which draws his attention; it looks as if it's skimmed the external jugular before whoever had the knife was blocked or pulled away.

He's not reacting at all correctly for a civilian in front of a gun; his manner's cool, distant where another Light might summon superiority and amusement. And he doesn't react as if he's used to defending himself, either - while his eyes are as alert as ever, and he's still and poised enough to make it clear he's ready to spin on a sixpence, there's no sign that he's going to move for that battered old sword he's wearing.

His hands rest against his sweater, wirily thin and unthreatening at his sides, and his voice is as calm and certain as if he's the one in control here. "No, I think I won't be doing that. But I'll make a compromise with you. I'll leave my hands in the open, and if I put them away before you're satisfied, you can shoot me." It's said without a blink.

"Is that acceptable?" He says it as if he knows it will be. You see, we're reasonable people, you and I. There's no reason for this.

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