L + Ratio
The thing about L really is that he's nice. Like, terminally nice. He could be busting your hide open with a Gatling Gun he's grabbed from someone else on the team and when he asks for a telegram from hell it'll be because he needs your address, to send one back. He's an open book, but he manages to stay mysterious solely because aer goofy gow-hoose brain doesn't operate like he thinks people're suspicious of him. Tricky, tricky!
But he's dangerous. Real dangerous. And Yelv figures...yeah, I can set with that. Part of it is, he knows the moment he mentions to his new friend that he's got a lead on his pard, L'll convert straight from shopowner to lingoscholar and apply for a Reclaimer badge (xe's already picked up "Whoa, dizzy!" as a favorite new ejaculation, and yes, xe continues to insist on describing it that way). That kind of commitment is more than rare in a city full of busy BLADE operatives who want division points and brownies a hell of a lot more than they'll ever really want brownie points from anyone but the brass (Reclaimer reps aside...).
The other part is that he's crossed paths with plenty of people, BLADE and not, in NLA, and all of them are a mess more nosey 'n' normative than a literal xenoform. Take Eleonora, for example. An administrative coordinator by trade, but a munitive meddler by choice. If L was in charge, they'd never get any missions checked, but if Eleonora was assigned Yelv's partner, they'd be looking for her body next.
(Okay. Maybe a bit of an exaggeration. But she has her moments.)
Yelv's set in his ways. Set in his goals. The only possible new partner for him is someone as wide-eyed and lily-lacquered as one Ser L.
However...
Doggone it all, he hates seeing L disappointed. First it was eating cats, or rather, trying NOT to eat cats - no big deal, but an ordeal, anyway. Then it was the salsa. Tastes fine, sure, but it makes your breath reek, and to top it off, xe'd managed to make cosse beans, of all things, the opposite of a belly-filler, no matter how much you eat. And the workout - effin' hell, the workout! Nopon gymnastics? REALLY??
So Yelv finds himself about clean out of patience and favors. He's been back and forth with himself for days on end, now (it'd be weeks if L ever allowed that much breathing room between aer schemes), trying to decide which line to toe, so as not to be caught with his pants down.
And who should solve this next thundering blunder but Eleonora?
There she is, at the concourse, peering all the way up into L's big, yellow, accomodating-as-all-get-out puppy-grex eyes and shaking her beautiful blonde head no.
"Trouble in paradise?" He wouldn't be surprised if L had the feathers for it, somewhere.
Eleonora turns toward the new arrival with a firm yet understanding plant of heel.
"L proposes that we install motorized variable-height basketball hoops in the residential district so that the Ma-non can participate, and bring pizza sales revenue to a peak in the process, but I told xem that BLADE simply cannot allocate the resources for a project of that nature."
Her expression belies any actual lived simplicity of the rejectory affair - probably something else in there about utilizing the technology implemented for pizza delivery at top speeds as a bonus, and something else besides that about a slightly off-kilter interpretation of how aggressively even a pick-up game of basketball might be played between the highly strong and agile individuals comprising BLADE. Who knows? Maybe some of them would start getting the wrong ideas from old movies too. It'd turn into a bloodbath pileup of litigation faster than you can say pick 'n' roll. Yelv nods apologetically, but again understandingly.
"Oh. Really? Huh. Yeah, we might have to take the L on this one."
"Take who?"
Nice guy. Nice, nice guy. Probably had taken some heavy explaining to derail, but now there'll be no more trouble with...eh, he doesn't even want to think about it.
"Takin' you home, pal. Let's get roostered."
"To the barracks? Oh, but then we shall not fly the coop after all!"
"Hope not. Hope not..."