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alias: kyros
player age: 26
player pronouns: she/her
character age: twenty-two
occupation OR house/set/dorm + year: extremely private detective
relationship status: single
small gif #1 (canon): https://68.media.tumblr.com/e7422216ae00738951c352ac9d4df807/tumblr_or6joxL7Ib1ttqjsao1_250.gif
small gif #2 (face claim): https://68.media.tumblr.com/92600ecfd40119a0cf4c6f87f3d331b8/tumblr_or6joxL7Ib1ttqjsao8_r1_250.jpg
character fandom: death note
app/shipper: 3658
thread tracker: 950
canon spirit: l
patronus: granian winged horse
boggart: himself, but less capable
time zone: Central
profile image: https://68.media.tumblr.com/e7422216ae00738951c352ac9d4df807/tumblr_or6joxL7Ib1ttqjsao1_250.gif
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Joined: 7-June 17
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Last Seen: 5 Jun 2018, 03:22 PM
Local Time: 25 Jun 2018, 01:18 AM
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l lawliet

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16 Sep 2017, 06:46 PM
[dohtml]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Libre+Baskerville:400,400i,700" rel="stylesheet">

<center><div class="boyz">
<h1 style="color:#504a4b">i refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person</h1>

<table><tr><td class="left">
<img src="https://yt3.ggpht.com/-FLYLO9YvmLw/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/bBrNavdb6gU/s100-c-k-no-mo-rj-c0xffffff/photo.jpg">
<div class="info">the opposite.</div>
</td><td><div class="text"><h2 style="color: #B5A642">light yagami.</h2>
So for the sake of the ad, I'm going to call him Light. He's pretty open and not mentioned in L's history. I just really think it'd be great to have L's intellectual counterpart on site! Here is a link to the wiki for Light!
</div></td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td class="left">
<img src="https://www.cosplayisland.co.uk/files/costumes/1972/14029/icon/misa_amane.jpg">
<div class="info">the airhead.</div>
</td><td><div class="text"><h2 style="color: #F778A1">misa amane.</h2>
I'm not gonna lie, I can only watch Death Note in spurts because of how obnoxious Misa Misa is but BUT I still adore her and would love to have her in play as well. She's completely open as well, with the one stipulation that she's a bit obsessively in love with Light. Here is a link to the wiki for Misa!
</div></td></tr></table>

</div><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=8549"><span style="font: bold 8px/20px calibri; opacity: .5; text-align:center;">BY MITZI</span></a>
</center>

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31 Aug 2017, 11:54 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 100%;"><br><br>
L had only been interested in the crossword puzzle in the Daily Prophet because it was part of his routine. Honestly, they were rather boring and repetitive, if anyone bothered to ask him. But nobody did, so he complained to Mr. Owen and a couple of the other workers at the orphanage and then did the puzzle anyways.
<p>
Three days ago, however, the crossword puzzle had been the expected level of boring, but L couldn’t help but notice that the answers to the clues were connected. A place. Or at least, it was the name of a place in London. L had been there on several occasions as it seemed to help him think clearly, staring at the various paintings and sculptures on display. Paintings… one of the paintings that he knew was housed in that gallery… one of the clues seemed to have alluded to it as well. Perhaps not in name, but it was certainly close enough. Pair that with a general time frame, and L had a rather curious case to follow up on.
<p>
Even if it turned out to be nothing but his paranoia and tendency to look too deeply into things, it would still be good for him to get out of the room that he typically kept himself cooped up in, right?
<p>
That was how Mr. Owen saw it at least.
<p>
Shuffling his way down the sidewalk from where the sleek black car had dropped him off, L fidgeted with the hem of his shirt for a moment before turning his attention to the art gallery to his left. It was just about to close up for the night, from what he could see inside, even though the hours posted on the entrance stated that the place would be open for another hour or so.
<p>
Pulling the door open, L slipped inside, quiet as a mouse, leaving a few coins on the counter to pay for his entry fee before going off to explore the rest of the gallery. Art never really had been his thing, but it was always good to have a place to go and think. Did others feel that way about art? L found it difficult to identify with the way others felt.
<p>
---
edward nygma | OOC: Set in 2019, L’s age is 24.
</div></center>[/dohtml]
15 Jul 2017, 03:34 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 100%;"><br><br>
“L, I’ve found what you were looking for,” Mr. Owen said through the wooden door as he gave it a gentle rap.
<p>
Perched in his chair by the window, L barely moved as Mr. Owen opened the door. “It’s raining,” he said plainly.
<p>
Mr. Owen approached the young man and looked out the window as well. “So it seems.”
<p>
“You are sure this place can help?” he asked, switching conversational topics like a slalom skier would switch directions between the poles.
<p>
The older man nodded. “I’m sure of it. Everything I’ve heard has been grand.”
<p>
L thought for a moment, dark eyes still fixated on an unknown object on the other side of the window pane. “It’s raining today,” he said again, although this time his voice was much quieter, as if he were speaking only to himself.
<p>
“The car will be waiting for you. You’ll need shoes, L. And a rain jacket. Please wear one this time.” Because last time L had returned home after being out in the rain, his typically tousled hair plastered to his head, his shirt hanging limply on his already lanky frame… He had looked like a drowned rat freshly plucked from the drainage ditch outside.
<p>
Slipping on a pair of shoes, which he despised, L shrugged into a rather out of character and brightly colored jacket. Mr. Owen had bought it for him, partially as punishment for not thinking through his last episode in the rain, and partially so he would be able to see him without much difficulty should the need ever arise.
<p>
The ride to the shop in question was...uneventful. L listened to the raindrops as they pattered against the window that he stared out of the entire way, keeping count of the plip plops that he heard. Pulling in front of the shop, the young man stepped out of the car and walked the short distance to the front door. Although, ‘walked’ was probably an incorrect description… ‘slumped’ or ‘slouched’ or even ‘skulked’ would have worked better.
<p>
Pulling open the door, he shot the bell above a hateful glance for startling him before stepping to the side and casting a look around. It was… this was just odd. L twisted to look behind him, but the car was already gone.
<p>
---
edna mode | OOC: Okay so apparently I’m really bad at starters with him so my apologies!!
</div></center>[/dohtml]
14 Jul 2017, 08:33 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 100%;"><br><br>
Oh this was simply not acceptable.
<p>
L paced back and forth in the foyer of the orphanage, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other slowly outlining the shape of his lips. “This isn’t correct,” he mused to himself, aware of Mr. Owen’s presence in the next room. “Mr. Owen? How far away is the Ministry?” he asked, stopping his pacing and poking his head through the door into Mr. Owen’s office.
<p>
“The Ministry is only moments away if you use our Floo Network, L, you know that.”
<p>
The young man frowned and brushed his jet black hair out of his face. “Yes, but I do not like using the Network unaccompanied.”
<p>
Mr. Owen looked up and sighed, and then stood from his desk. “I will take you,” he said, walking out of the office and past the young squib. “You need to go put some shoes on, L, or they won’t let you walk around for very long there.”
<p>
L looked down at his bare feet and frowned. “Fine,” he said, disappearing up the stairs and into his room only to emerge moments later with a pair of nearly worn out tennis shoes covering his feet. Mr. Owen didn’t even bother asking if the young man was wearing socks. He already knew the answer.
<p>
The fireplace stretched open as Mr. Owen readied himself and waited for L to join him. L’s arms were crossed tightly around his midsection, looking as if he had a stomachache by the way he was slouching over, but the elderly man knew otherwise. It was simply how L coped with traveling like this.
<p>
Appearing in the Ministry’s foyer, Mr. Owen let L step out of the great fireplace. “How long will you need?” he asked.
<p>
“I’m not sure,” L admitted, running his hands through his hair and then looking around at the great entrance. “Give me an hour.” he said decisively and turned to head towards the department of magical law enforcement.
<p>
Passing several witches and wizards that gave him rather bizarre looks (which was warranted, he supposed), he came to a stop and asked in general, “I’m looking for Thomas Shirogane. Could anyone help me?”
<p>
---
Thomas Shirogane | OOC: Short starter is short. My apologies.
</div></center>[/dohtml]
13 Jun 2017, 12:48 AM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; line-height: 100%;"><br><br>
Somewhere in Germany, 2011
<p>
The dark-haired boy’s slender fingers wrapped around his own arms as he sat crouched in one of the back booths in the German coffee shop, taking in the atmosphere of the place. The lighting was dim, even in the middle of the day, and the curtains on the windows were drawn to increase the mood, L assumed. It made it more difficult to see, in any aspect, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that.
<p>
Ding. The door opened and someone walked in. Someone matching the height and general build of the person that he was here looking for. L scanned the other occupants. Not counting the two baristas, there were seven other individuals in the cafe. A couple on a coffee date, a group of three what looked to be college-aged students working on what appeared to be papers for some class, an elderly man sitting by himself with a newspaper, and L himself. The target match made eight.
<p>
He held the styrofoam cup with a finger and his thumb, the rest of his fingers splayed out a bit. There were many sugars in the tea, and he had gotten a strange look when he’d asked for a cup of simple tea at a coffee shop. This cafe hadn’t caught on to the whole serving-both-coffee-and-tea idea as several cafes in London had done.
<p>
Sipping at the tea, L’s gaze didn’t leave the man as he ordered and then sat down near the boy. “You’re Miles, aren’t you? It would certainly make sense if you were,” he said, words quiet enough to not draw too much attention to himself. The elderly man with the newspaper glanced his way and ruffled the paper a bit before going back to what he was doing.
<p>
---
miles edgeworth | OOC: L's 16. Smol child.
</div></center>[/dohtml]
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