[Closed] Lies and Omissions

[Niamh Madden]

Hamis 11, 2719 | Late Morning
East Gardens, Brunnhold

.

Alone. She needed him alone.

It was surprisingly difficult to get her brother alone when she wanted- when she needed him that way. The young woman didn’t want to be overheard, didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing anything between the siblings and that included Harper. Niamh had a feeling that she was going to lose her temper and if she felt that way then Fionn was going to lose his with absolute certainty. The last thing either of them needed was for someone to realise that they were tearing strips off each other, come to investigate and start asking questions. Not that anywhere was likely to be safe short of the two of them being catapulted to Benea and even then she suspected that — heated as she imagined this discussion would become — people would know about it even if it took place on Vita’s larger moon.

Niamh had made a perhaps unwise decision to meet her brother in the East Gardens, knowing it to be an unpopular spot with most people because they found that it gave them the creeps. It gave the eldest Madden the creeps too but at least it was a lonely spot, unlikely to see them disturbed — not that she expected to hang around there. The young woman was well aware that it’d be lunchtime soon and then there was the risk of some students or faculty members wandering in their direction, especially as it was reasonably dry today albeit there had been a shower earlier and perhaps that would act as a deterrent. In many ways, it was lucky that it was dry because otherwise their meeting would have been a miserable one indeed. It wasn’t going to be a happy one in any case but it would have been a lot worse if they’d both been stuck out in the rain, wet to the skin.

A shower could appear at any time and as such, the young woman carried an umbrella. It was dark green, complementing her uniform. Ordinarily, she would have held it by the handle at waist-height in front of her, ferrule down, and let it bounce lightly against her skirt. This time, she clasped it tightly in the middle, feeling the metal frame dig into her fingers even through the closed canopy as she swung it back and forth like a weapon. The final year student was hardly the demure, nervous girl that she normally was; the redhead was clearly on the war path and it would be a shock to anyone who encountered her.

Her meeting with Aurelie Steerpike the previous day was what fuelled her fury now and it wasn’t the girl that she was angry at but rather her brother. It was he who could lie, he who was full of guile and deceit. The treacherous little… little bastard! Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to have such a total disregard for the rules that had been set out? Did he think that he was the only one who had to live according to standards set by others? Most importantly though, how dare he lie to her! Niamh could forgive him lying in general but he shouldn’t lie to her, not when she was supposed to be someone that he could trust.

The boy had no idea what rage his sister was going to rain down upon him.

Arriving at the East Gardens before him meant that she had to gaze at the entrance to that maze and feel certain that she could hear whispers on the wind but she didn’t think that she’d have to be bothered for long; once her brother arrived, she’d be far too distracted to feel weird about the place. It was doubtful that she’d be feeling the chill creeping across her skin when her blood started boiling.

She paced, the umbrella swung back and forth as if she was a soldier on parade. She couldn’t keep her emotions to herself and she wasn’t trying; ironically her field was quite orderly almost calm, even if it was solidly red-shift and pulsing. Her expression was quite a cool one, persisting even when she caught sight of her brother’s face. Her pacing slowed and then she stilled before the maze’s entrance, one hand balled at her hip while the other leaned on the umbrella, using it like a cane while its ferrule dug into the mud.

“About time you showed up! I’ve been so looking forward to having a little chat!” she greeted, words brisk and clipped, not even managing a facsimile of a smile. Her foot tapped on the ground.

“I talked to Aurelie Steerpike yesterday. Very interesting conversation — very interesting! So you have some explaining to do, Fionn and don’t you dare lie to me, do you hear me? If you lie, I’ll- I’ll- I’ll clocking well beat you over the head with this!” she snarled, brandishing the umbrella menacingly in the air. The mud that fell off the tip might have detracted from the menace a bit but this was no laughing matter; given the scarlet fury in her features and the real steel to her words, it wasn’t really comical.

“Don’t even try to deny it, Fionn, or talking around it — avoidance and omission won’t do you any favours — because I know that you’re interested in Aurelie! It’s why you told her to get involved in the research, isn’t it? So you can what? What were you planning on doing under our noses? Under my nose! How can I trust you with anything? You lying, m-m-manipulative b-bastard!”

She’d actually sworn at him. She’d also used a term that she knew would hurt, one that she knew would rile him. Well good! Let him get angry! It was about time they aired some things, wasn’t it?

[Fionn]

Hamis 11, 2719 | Late Morning
East Gardens, Brunnhold

.

Niamh had left word that she wanted to see him, specifying a meeting place and time, and Fionn didn’t think anything of it. His sister often set up meetings in such a fashion, providing her with a chance to catch up with her brother. He’d admit that the timing and the location were peculiar — she was usually busy enough on ones and she usually met him in the lab or somewhere similarly safe — but neither things were cause for concern; he didn’t worry about it. The middle Madden did wonder what it was about, an idle curiosity that arose from the assumption that she must have something she wanted to tell him or discuss with him that couldn’t wait until he naturally appeared in her orbit next. Possibly Harper had something planned in the lab that she didn’t want to disturb or it was something that she didn’t want to discuss in front of the man. Maybe his sister wanted to discuss the professor, some dilemma worrying away at her again; she all too frequently became obsessively preoccupied with some issue or other involving her infatuation.

He hoped it wasn’t something bad—he wanted to be able to reassure her—and that it did involve Harper Moore rather than her fiancé. Not that she’d had any say in her engagement — that was most of the problem in truth. It was a bad situation, especially when there was such a concerted effort to constrain her and prevent her from doing anything more than her life than birth children. In some ways, the passive could sympathise with her anxiety about throwing the engagement back at their parents and refusing to go through with it, could understand why she’d be upset about being cut off but at the same time, it sounded like a relief to him. So what if their interfering parents relinquished all hold on her? Yes, she’d lose out on the money but she’d manage, wouldn’t she? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have an income and savings; his sister was a practical young lady and he thought that she should just get it over and done with.

Whatever was going on, there was no point speculating; Fionn would find out the reason for the meeting when he got there. And oh boy, he really did manage to understand what was going on — to a degree at least.

Even before his sister opened her mouth, he could tell that she was pissed off. It was clear in the way that she paced and the stance that she adopted when she saw him. Of course, by that point his own steps had slowed so that he wouldn’t barrel into the midst of her field. Instead, the young man found its edge, grimacing as he encountered its strong pulse and the puce-shift that made his hair rear up on his skin, and took a measured step back so that he was out of its range. It meant that there was a fair distance between himself and his sibling, which was done for the sake of his own comfort rather than out of fear; he wasn’t afraid of her, even though he’d seen what she could do when in a temper. The blond took up a firm stance, feet apart, and folded his arms, frowning slightly as he listened to her. He was standing his ground, whatever it was she wanted to throw at him and it must really be something because she was truly livid.

And then Aurelie’s name dropped from her lips and he had an idea. So she’d found out what had happened between the pair of passives in the engraver’s office. She knew that he’d betrayed her trust. That being said, her reaction was… more extreme than he would have expected. Actually, he would have expected a different sort of emotion ramped up to the same degree. He’d expected her to get upset and be close to tears, not ready to rip his head off. Or beat him over the head. He didn’t trust her with that umbrella, especially when she started waving it around; his sister wasn’t always well-coordinated and he could imagine it flying out of her hand to bash him in the head. He kept a wary eye on the thing in case he needed to dodge.

The teenager said nothing, waiting for a wave of accusations and remonstrances to descend on his head as she highlighted the wrongs that he’d done to her but instead what came out of her mouth was unexpectedly vague.

Interested? Yes, he would have thought that snogging her in Keyes’ office and discussing plans to meet again would have been a clocking good indicator! And if she knew what had happened then why was she asking him? Fionn couldn’t imagine Aurelie spilling their secrets, certainly not in anything like a coherent manner so what was this based on? Supposition? He might have been innocent—he wasn’t obviously—and yet the eldest Madden was seething with rage because he’d what? Threatened to tarnish her precious research? As if it was her research at all.

Calling him a bastard was the young man’s breaking point.

“Don’t you dare—dare—use that word to refer to me ever again! Don’t you fucking dare, Niamh, or I swear to Alioe, sister or not, I will make you pay for it!” he told her, his voice surprisingly quiet even to his own ears although the venom and the sincerity of the threat was all too clear. His hands had balled into fists and fallen to his sides, the awful atmosphere of her field ignored, or at least weathered, as he strode closer to her.

Did he think of striking her? Yes, for a moment he actually did but he didn’t, he didn’t even raise his hand.

“It must have been one hell of a conversation and I’d be really interested to hear what it was about because I can’t remember doing anything that warranted this sort of reaction. I don’t see why I have to tell you anything—you’ve clearly already heard it all!” Fionn snarled, waving a hand wildly in the air.

“Hit me if you really want to, go right ahead because I’m not telling you shit until you actually tell me what you want me to explain. So go on! Throw your accusations at me and we’ll see if any of them stick because you bloody well think that they will so go on!” he challenged, stepping still closer right into the middle of the monic aura that raged around her, scant inches away from his sister’s face. At this distance, he could almost count her freckles.

“What do you think of me? Why don’t you tell me all about this low opinion that you have of me? Tell me what a lying, manipulative bastard I am!” he spat—literally; he saw droplets of spittle hit Niamh’s freckled features.

[Niamh Madden]

Hamis 11, 2719 | Late Morning
East Gardens, Brunnhold

.

He wasn’t meant to be this calm. It wasn’t right that she was berating him and he just stood there listening, letting her words wash over him as if they were nothing. There was no guilt on his face, and in fact, the young man was quite calm—infuriatingly calm in her view. He frowned in the way he might if he encountered a puzzle or something mildly surprising. She hated him for the way he’d sussed out the edge of her field and then stepped out of it again as if he’d been expecting to encounter the maelstrom. Even before she’d said Aurelie’s name, Fionn seemed to anticipate her fury.

Her words and her rage didn’t move him until the end of her tirade, a change overcoming the youth while she stood with chest heaving. In spite of her threat, she’d expected protests, evasions, questions and a raised voice with plenty of expletives. That sort of thing would have only fanned the flames of her fury but then it would only given her more evidence. She didn’t know the exact details of what her brother had gotten up to with Aurelie in the engraver’s office but he’d gotten up to something and he’d also coerced agreement from her about the research without telling other passive anything about it all. He certainly wasn’t innocent—the girl almost certainly wasn’t either—and she knew that anything that had gone on would have been his doing. Her eldest brother was an instigator and one with a reckless disregard for rules, order and other people.

The cold softness of his voice was a shock, something dignified in his relatively placid features although there was no mistaking the combativeness of his posture and his eyes! Sweet Lady! Even from a distance, his brown gaze had darkened and it bored into her, the seriousness of his threat unquestionable when she was faced with that glare. She grew cold, unmistakably fearful as he descended on her. Her heart squeezed tightly within her, seeming to find itself in her throat, a solid, impenetrable lump that couldn’t be swallowed or breathed around. The young woman shrank, realising her mistake. She’d wanted to rile him up, to make him angry—’bastard’ had been too far—and now she fully expected one of his fists to collide with her face.

She flinched, eyes squeezing shut automatically but a blow didn’t materialise. The rage she felt hadn’t subsided—far from it—but it had retreated for the time being, a hot ball of fury remaining in her core while her field grew fearful, almost black-shift. Her eyes opened and she flinched again, not fully closing her eyes this time as Niamh discovered her brother’s nearness, less than a yard between them.

The Madden daughter had seen the scars on his hands, had heard tell of how violent he’d been but she’d never viewed him as truly dangerous until this moment; Fionn didn’t seem truly capable of it. His anger and violence was that of a petulant child, almost a tantrum as he struck out in frustration without any real understanding of what he was doing. She’d seen him enraged, she’d seen him spit and curse and shout but this was a new level. This was a man who in spite of his lack of magic seemed willing and able to hurt her—badly. He’d almost killed Lars, that’s what she’d been told but she hadn’t been able to believe it; he could never have had the intent. It had been hard to reconcile the image of a young man capable of such a thing with the reality of her brother, especially given his evident adoration of the other blond and how much he cared for him.

She didn’t have to use her imagination anymore.

That look in his eye dissipated and his response became more typical of what she’d expected—in tone at least—but she remained shaken. She’d gained an insight into her brother that she could never have imagined. Now she could understand what he meant about how there was something wrong with him, about how being gated had ruined him. She’d had no idea that he was so…

It wasn’t something that the student could dwell on, not when he was snarling at her, giving her no answers while acting entirely indignant. He seemed ready to turn it all on her as if she was the one in the wrong. She’d left them alone, yes, but she hadn’t made Aurelie hopelessly enamoured with him, so much so that she’d agreed to be a research subject with no inkling of what her consent would entail.

And then he spat in her face. Oh it might not have been intentional but she still took offence. She took offence at him standing so close that his hot breath gusted into her face, his intent to intimidate her exceptionally clear. There he stood getting angry at her as if he hadn’t done a single thing wrong.

Her posture became straight, spine stiffening as she tried to take full advantage of her height, even though she was still a bit smaller than he was. Her field still pulsed in irritation but it was rapidly returning to red-shift, the frustration that had coloured it before now absent. Niamh flexed it, allowing its power to rush over him before she gathered it to her as if on the verge of casting as she wiped her face.

“You want to know what I think? I think that I trusted you to behave yourself when I left you alone! I trusted you to follow the rules for once in your clocking life and do the decent thing! I didn’t think you’d lead that girl on! I didn’t think you’d go and- You didn’t tell her anything about the nexi and you still made her agree to take part in the research! Do you really mean to tell me you didn’t do it for your own selfish reasons?” she threw back at him, leaning away to give herself a bit of distance from him. She wasn’t going to step back. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of forcing to give ground to him.

“Clock the Circle! That girl would do anything you asked and you clocking well know it! I’m sure you know that you could take full advantage of that if you got her to the lab, played on Harper’s distractibility while you flouted the rules! How fast would kissing turn to sex if you could manage it? You’d fornicate with anyone and I don’t want to have to clean up after you!” she shrieked in his face. “I’m not here to sort things for you if you get her pregnant! I shouldn’t have to deal with you and your lack of responsibility!”

Niamh was better than him and she knew it with absolute surety. The young woman always spoke of equality and how she didn’t think that the other races were lesser than her but she didn’t always feel that way. Her brother was a child. There wasn’t much difference between their ages, there wasn’t that much of an age difference between himself and Oísin but he was clueless about so much, so selfish, so ready to seek his own gratification and damn everyone else! Damn responsibility and order and propriety because he was Fionn and he wanted to do whatever he damn well liked and he would! He’d been like that before he was gated, stealing their mother’s jewellery because he wanted to give it to Niamh. He hadn’t changed, not really. He’d gotten older but he hadn’t matured. They weren’t on the same level.

In a quick flash of spontaneity, she took a step forward and barked a single Monite syllable: push.

It was hardly a noble use, a petty attempt to display her superiority and demonstrate that his intimidation and his threatening words were no match against her ability to wield magic but she knew it wasn’t noble, knew the wrongness of it. The mona felt the emotions tangled up in it and her intent and acted on them; it backfired spectacularly. Instead of showing her power, the mona moved but basically bounced back off him; a strong wind probably would have buffeted him more.

Weak, useless, a failure.

Her face seemed hot and then cold, a blush trying to fight its way onto her visage at the same time that the blood tried to drain away. To Fionn, she ended up looking blotchy. The Living Conversationalist stared at him, a mix of shock, horror and humiliation on her face, hazel eyes jammed open wide.

Die Roll

Push Spell: 1

[Fionn]

Hamis 11, 2719 | Late Morning
East Gardens, Brunnhold

.

A change came over his sister, similar to the one that had occurred when she’d hurled himself and Oísin apart magically back in Intas. She’d been momentarily cowed, he’d seen it. She’d been frightened of him—it had wobbled through her field—and he’d thought that she might start stuttering, apologising for her words and her attitude. Now it had bolstered, the youth grimacing as the mona around her thrummed with power. Now he expected trouble, especially when she gathered her field afterwards. Instead of hurling magic at him though, she hurled words.

His older sibling started railing against him, acting as if he’d done something utterly deplorable. As if kissing Aurelie had been the most despicable thing he could have done and that she’d never be able to trust him again. Over a kiss. It had been more than a single kiss, yes, a rather intense makeout session, but it was hardly worth this. Bloody hypocrite! He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d done a lot more with her professor. Well, he’d be a bit surprised; she was prudish or at least repressed — and sex-obsessed! The young woman seemed to jump to sex and related matters often enough!

Then she started talking about Aura and his fury levels rose rapidly. His hand actually twitched. The notion of hitting a girl had long offended him, something criminal in his mind about the idea of slapping or thumping their delicate looking faces. But his fingers did twitch with the desire to slap his sister. He didn’t know why he didn’t strike her, why he didn’t backhand her for the horrible, horrible things that she’d said about Aurelie. The young man could deal with all manner of aspersions being cast upon his own character—his sister wasn’t much wrong about his willingness—but he resented her saying such things about the passive girl.

She didn’t know her—neither did he honestly—and she had no right to judge her like that, to have one conversation with her and decide that she was- To speak about her as if she was- As if Niamh had any right! As if she was any better when she was ready to do anything Harper Moore wanted if the man would pay enough attention to ask it of her. Desperate is what his sister was, needing the professor like a bitch in heat!

And then she tried to push him with magic. Tried.

It was the spell he’d been given for his initiation test—it wasn’t something that he could forget in a hurry—so of course he recognised it. It was the only word of Monite that he knew for sure and thus, he understood what she was doing the second it blurted out of her mouth. Except that nothing happened. Oh, there was a suggestion of movement—he definitely felt the mona shift—but it was like the air stirred in front of him, against him and that was all. It appeared from nowhere and dissipated just as quickly. There was her great display of golly magic, the proof of her superiority after all her mightier than thou talk. The look of shock on her face—priceless. Something so simple and she hadn’t been able to use it against him. It felt like a sign from the gods.

The blond youth laughed, nasty and derisive.

“Arrogant bitch! Look what good it does you! You aren’t better than me, Niamh, and you aren’t better than Aurelie! You’re a judgmental bitch and a hypocrite, you know that? You act like I’m a child but you’re the one having a fucking tantrum! But it’s okay because it’s magic! Magic against your passive brother, how noble!” he snapped. “Just because you didn’t want to get your hands dirty doesn’t mean that you’re good, even if you like to think you are but me? It’s my job to get my hands dirty so you precious gollies don’t have to!”

He shoved her hard, putting a foot forward and shifting his weight to it as he did so, adding to his momentum as he pressed his hands against her shoulders. She obviously hadn’t been expecting it, hadn’t expected the force of it, which was definitely a lot stronger than what she’d managed to produce with magic. She didn’t have as strong a stance as him either so of course she lost her balance, tumbling backwards so that she almost crossed the threshold of the maze’s entrance. The ground was wet and muddy and he heard his sister splat into it.

“You think that you’re so clocking good, don’t you? Oh, you’re not racist, you’re all about equality! You tell us that we’re no different than you, that we should be treated like adults but you talk to us like we’re children! You know better than us after all with your education and your magic! Reconcile those things, Niamh!” he roared, glaring down at her.

“It’s none of your business what I do with Aurelie or what I say to her but she isn’t a slut! Don’t you dare disrespect her like that, you don’t have the clocking right!” Fionn explained hotly, moving to pick up her umbrella which had gone flying out of her grip. Holding the handle, he pointed it down at her chest, making it difficult for her to get up without trying to move it aside—he was far stronger than her and had the advantage though—or getting herself stabbed by its ferrule.

“She didn’t do anything wrong and I didn’t do anything wrong! All I did was kiss her and you can’t say that that was wrong unless you want to say what you’ve been up to is wrong! And unlike Aurelie, I know that you’ve thrown yourself at Moore. Off slutting at the St. Grumble’s Red Tie too, hoping that the man would lose his head and fall at your feet! You’re the one desperate enough to do anything that Moore asks and you don’t have to worry, do you? You’ve got your precious magic to stop you from having to face up to responsibilities like getting pregnant!”

Fionn paused for breath, chest heaving as he sought more words to throw at her; he had plenty of them.

“You’re the one with the filthy mind! Lady’s Sake! When she came to Keyes’ office, your thoughts immediately jumped to sex! I didn’t do anything improper—not a thing—and you want to pass judgment on me—on Aurelie too— because you can’t stop thinking about sex? I kissed her but I never took my hands off her waist, I never asked her to do anything that she didn’t want to do and I would never be so selfish a-a-and sex-crazed that I’d- In Alioe’s name, just because I kissed her and we’re interested in each other doesn’t mean that I’m going to bed her! I hardly know her, Niamh!”

He’d quietened down now but his disgust was unmistakable as he gazed at his sister.

“I’m not a child, Niamh and you may be older than me but I have seen a hell of a lot more shit than you have so don’t act as if you know more than me. Don’t act like you have my best interests at heart. You care about seeming unusual and liberal as if you’re better and wiser than your peers. You’re just a hypocrite, Niamh! You’re racist, you’re arrogant, you’re spoiled! I may be a lot of things but at least I admit that I’m an ersehole—I know what I am,” he told her softly, his voice steely.

“Judge yourself before you judge me and my actions, Niamh, and then see who the liar is. And don’t fucking think of judging Aurelie,” he finished coldly, jabbing her with the ferrule before letting the umbrella drop as he turned on his heel and walked away.

Even so, he stopped to shoot a parting shot over his shoulder. “Do yourself and everyone else a favour and bed your professor—it might cure you of your shameful suspicions.”

She could call after him if she liked but there was no way that he was going to go back to her.