Nietzsche (L Lawliet)

C.7

I was hanging around L with Armonia, who was talking to the other Shinigami in the room, who I couldn't see.

"Man, Ryuk, good to see you. Hope your human is nicer than mine. This one threatens me." He said and I looked over and sighed softly.

"Ryuk says his is just rude. Mine is, too." Armonia then got in my face. "She fucking threatens to starve me if I don't help her. Not like she cares I'm a God or anything. No, she doesn't care. She'll still make me steal, graffiti, and kill for her."

Armonia just chuckled and turned to me. "Ryuk just told his human you're not one to mess with."

"What do you think of Gods, L?" I hummed, chin in my palm, and he glanced over at me. "Just curious. Making conversation." I shrugged.

"Personally, I don't believe in them." He hummed and I nodded.

"If given the chance, would you watch a God starve?" I asked, and Armonia stared at me. "I mean, imagine it. Gods are supposed to be powerful, right? But hunger can drive anything crazy. Imagine, something that powerful, a whining, begging mess." I hummed, looking forward again.

"Are you trying to go somewhere with this?" He asked and I looked over and saw Armonia looking horrified at me.

"Nope." I popped my lips, sighing in a bored manner. "I think I'm gonna head on home." I stood up and stretched, and L watched me. "Good luck on the research you'll do once I'm out the door."

"Thanks." L said with a hint of sarcasm.

We were out and back home, and I took my notebook and scrawled out a new message and the can of red spray paint. "You know the deal," I said and handed both to Armonia, and he flew off to spray my message to the world onto the tallest building.

'phase 1: complete. - N'

I went out while he was gone and went to a bookstore and bought myself some coloring books, then an office store and a bunch of sharpies in every color they had.

I went back home and dropped my shit, and Armonia was back. As a reward, I gave him an apple, which he devoured in three bites.

"Are you going to make a video?" He asked as I sat down.

"No, I'll wait a day. Keep the public on their toes." I sighed, opening up my sharpies and a huge pencil case and dumping all of them in. I then flipped open the first coloring book and began to color as water boiled for my tea.

"Coloring? Really?" He asked, lounging.

"I used to color a lot as a teenager. I was pretty good at it." I hummed, bent over, and focused.

I got up my phone and listened to slam poetry as I did, having a playlist on YouTube for some of my favorites.

I paused the video, googled the poem that I related the most to, and grabbed an unused notebook that was probably a Christmas present, and wrote it down, word for word, line by line.

"What's that?" Armonia asked.

"Nothing." I hummed, shutting the book once I was done and slipping the elastic band over it, then skipping the rest of the video on my phone and getting up because the water had begun to boil in the kettle.

I felt my eyes burn as I made my tea, and just blinked away my feelings at our harsh reality.

Why do slam poems make me feel things? I didn't sign up for this shit.

YouTube was now on a love poem, one of my absolute favorites, and I googled that one after I made my tea and wrote it down in my notebook as well.

"Didn't take you for someone who liked poetry." Armonia hummed.

"I was quite a different person years back." I hummed.

"So what happened?" He asked.

"Life happened." I sighed, blinking, then going back to writing.