When Will I See You Again

Anaxas' oldest and most prestigious University of Sorcery, the de facto cultural capital of the kingdom and a city in its own right.
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Fionn
Posts: 101
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Race: Passive
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Fri Feb 08, 2019 6:02 pm

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
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The passive often hadn't been considered the brightest when it came to carrying out actions that led to punishment being meted out but by the Circle, he'd definitely given leave of his senses today.

He'd wrangled with Ayden, really wrangled with his patron because he'd been furious. He'd already been ready to go through the brunette for a shortcut the previous evening after Lars, gods...

The bastard had made him choose between two fates for his roommate and he'd chosen a disastrous one, the other blond's blood left everywhere, blood pumping out of the older servant while Ayden dragged Fionn away. He hadn't been able to help his roommate at all and it had broken him. He'd chosen Lars obviously, unable to forgive his patron and long-term lover, and that had started it all really, hadn't it?

When he'd gotten back to the room and found the older boy gone and Jamie had given directions that sounded like they had headed to Laboratory Beta, the young man had been able to bury many of his thoughts, going off the deep end in terms of sanity for a little while but it had come back to him.

Maybe he'd have been better off if he'd managed to stay out of his right senses.

He'd chosen Lars, too little too late as he could hardly tell him at that point, and then he'd remembered exactly who the boy was to him - had been. If he'd just been left with that then perhaps he would have been able to cope, not well but it was possible that he could have done it. Unfortunately, two things happened. Lars didn't make an appearance and neither did word of his well-being and a particular piece of gossip finally reached his ears.

It had been during his shift with some of the seamstresses, struggling with a needle and thread (he'd never been great at sewing and the like) when he'd overheard it and nearly shoved the point through his finger. Fionn had to bite his lip to stop himself from swearing fluently, simply shoving the injured digit into his mouth while he went the stealthy route for a change, cocking an ear in the direction of the conversation while he continued to work away.

The conversation was an interesting one indeed but to the passive, it was mainly horrifying. It was about what had happened at the 6th year's formal dinner, the infamous dinner where Lars was meant to have upset some galdori. Ayden had told him that the blond had fucked up but... apparently he hadn't. Instead, he was the talk of the Passive Wing - Clock the Circle, why hadn't he heard this sooner?! - because the Gioran ambassador had treated Lars like a person and then apparently gotten into a spat with one of the professors. While the blond had committed a minor infraction by spilling something on said professor, the main thing seemed to be that he'd been treated like something on a level with a galdor. When they'd started talking about how the blond was moony and how such a thing could go to his head, Fionn had finally lost his cool, snarling at them that they couldn't talk about Lars like that; they didn't have the right.

He'd stormed off after that, putting as much distance between the gossiping passives and himself as possible. He didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to think that the boy had done something so minor and Ayden had tricked him into-

No, he couldn't bear it.

But the whispers had followed him, the topic an apparent favourite among the servants who talked rapidly, oft beneath their breaths although he caught the odd words, enough, as they spread it from one to the other.

He'd beaten Lars up for nothing. He'd beaten his roommate so severely that he'd been fairly certain since that his wounds had been mortal. And he'd done it to save him from what he deemed to be a worse fate, all because Ayden had lied well enough, twisted the truth just enough that Fionn filled in the gaps himself and had done his bidding. The parse wasn't solely to blame, he wasn't the one who'd jumped to conclusions after all but gods, as soon as his shift was over, he was out of there, ready to confront the bastard, to call him out on his lying and manipulation.

Which hadn't gone well.

Not only had something snapped in the considerably taller parse that had made him slam a punch into his gut and very nearly dislocate Fionn's arm, but he'd also left the young man feeling worse than when he'd gone to confront him. Not only had he shifted the blame onto Fionn for jumping to conclusions, for taking things so far. But he'd also pointed out something that had been on every passive's lips who'd talked about it, that Lars couldn't be allowed to think too highly about himself, to get any moony ideas about his station.

It was something that was left to haunt the blond, plaguing his thoughts when he finally escaped his patron's room, the world sitting heavily on his shoulders.

"The boy needed to be reminded that he's worthless; you did an excellent job of that, Fionn."

He didn't think that he'd ever get that statement out of his head, least of all because it was true, so bloody true. He'd made promises to Lars and from the other's perspective, he'd broken them almost gleefully because what was Lars worth to anybody? He was a scrap and a lowly one at that. He'd beaten him bloody and then left him there on the floor like he was rubbish, utterly worthless.

Except that to Fionn he wasn't and that was what made it so agonising and standing up to Ayden had been so utterly pointless.

If Lars was on the bottom of the scrapheap in everyone's eyes then Fionn was right down there with him and glad to have such company. Provided that Lars was still alive. He'd heard nothing though, the silence either a good sign or an ominous one depending on how you looked at it but the middle Madden had to know. He had to find out where he was, if he was okay, if... he'd ever want to be in the same room as Fionn again. The passive wanted to be able to tell the other that he didn't think that he was worthless, to debase himself at the other's feet and if he made good on his promise to kill Fionn for hurting him then so be it.

The teen passive was his slave to do with as he saw fit honestly. He just wanted a chance to explain first, to apologise, to try to undo any damage he'd done psychologically.

And so, in spite of the fact that it might get him in trouble, the passive made his way to Laboratory Beta, hoping that he could find the answers he sought about Lars' wellbeing from Devlin or Moore, maybe even seeing the young man himself. Maybe it was the idea of seeing Lars that made him so jittery or perhaps it was the idea that he might arrive at the lab and they'd have no notion of what had happened to his roommate because he was in some tunnel somewhere... gone.

When he got to the lab door, he hesitated for a scant moment before knocking briskly, preventing himself from backing out of this. The knock was the sound of his presence and he didn't think that he had to wait to be invited in so he turned the handle, taking a step through the doorway before stopping dead as he found himself met with the sight of a galdor woman instead of either of the expected male professors. Fionn froze and stared, wondering if he should simply bolt.

He couldn't be around a galdor woman, he couldn't guarantee that he'd be able to keep a civil tongue.

Oh boy!
Last edited by Fionn on Sat Feb 16, 2019 10:55 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 1432

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Maximus
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Sat Feb 09, 2019 6:00 pm

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
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Once again, the young woman found herself in Laboratory Beta, cleaning up after Professor Harper Moore. Once again, she was dealing with the fact that he'd decided to turn his place of work into a sleeping space, leaving a trail of things behind him as he moved about in his distracted way.

Niamh had been looking forward to being here all day.

It was an odd thing really, wanting to be here to tidy up the man's mess but it gave her a chance to be near him, to appreciate him in a way that she struggled to do when she was in the man's presence. The things that he left lying around gave an insight into his thought processes, how his mind moved from one thing to another, mind distracted, some thought pulling him away from more practical matters, mundane matters like tidying up after himself. Frankly, she thought that it was sweet.

It was so easy to be fully absorbed by him, the monic theorist successfully managing to fill any room that he was in, at least from the eldest Madden's perspective. She could happily listen to him talk, especially if he got onto the topic of passives. It was heartening to hear someone speak about them as something more than filth, to speak of them as if they were on the same level as galdori. It didn't make him popular with others in Brunnhold, both himself and Castor Devlin seen as crackpots at best and radicals at worse. However, Devlin had a better time of things than his younger counterpart, as a Magister and a well-known face in Brunnhold politics.

Moore should have been better respected but he wasn't, seen as an odd shut-in, spending more time in the lab worrying about scraps rather than spending time with decent, whole galdori. It was something that the redhead had disliked hearing even before she'd met the man, the sneering voices of her peers grating on her as they judged him for something that she deemed noble. She had admired his cause, his purpose, his unwillingness to back down in the face of opposition, even before she'd had a chance to speak and work with him.

But then she was one of those weird sympathisers, wasn't she? Someone who saw passives as people but then why shouldn't she? Her brother was one.

Not that she'd seen Fionn since he'd been dragged off to Brunnhold of course but damn them all, she'd wanted to see him. Her parents had forbidden it after his failed initiation test when she'd asked questions about him, her peers had hissed warnings at her when she seemed to pine over him following her return to school, teachers who'd been disapproving when she'd asked questions about him too. Everyone had told her to leave things well enough alone, better that she only have one brother from then on and forget about the blond who was the black sheep of the family. But how could she forget about the boy who had ripped their family wide open? The boy who had been broken before his test, broken in ways that had nothing to do with his ability to use magic.

Niamh had done what she was told but she'd never stopped thinking about him, left to consider the passive question and Fionn more after her youngest brother, Oísin, was caught up in a passive diablerie. He'd become terrified of the defective galdori while his sister had grown fascinated. It was odd how much they'd diverged in recent years, the siblings often at odds with one another, Niamh scolding him for things she'd seen him do to the passive servants, despising him for his needless cruelty towards them, while he seemed disgusted by her both for interfering in his business and for seeing passives as people. They'd never been overly close but they'd grown further apart over time. It was Fionn that she'd been closer to, the pair similar enough in age and temperament, both suffering in their own ways for existing. The young woman was the wrong sex for her very conservative Incumbent father, her status as eldest unimportant in the face of the fact that she was only good for marrying off and Fionn? Well, he was the blond, the odd-one-out, the one whose looks came from an unknown place - a suspected bastard - so of course Toibín had hated the boy.

Both of them had bonded over their own injustices and while they hadn't seen each other in over eight years, the girl felt closer to him than she should have. She felt that they would still be good friends and if he was what her father thought he was, if one of her mother's affairs had indeed born fruit then Fionn was still her half-brother and... so what?

But she still hadn't encountered him. It was awkward to go looking for him now but since she'd been helping Moore and Devlin with their research, passives brought in to aid them with their data, she'd hoped that he'd show up sooner or later; thus far, he had not. She wasn't in this for him though, not solely. It was all for the passive cause and she was happy to help out where she could. Even if that meant organising some of Harper's scattered notes.

The young woman gathered up the various papers that she found, some of them nonsensical scribbles, the product of some logic that presumably only Harper could follow; it was in his hand. But she gathered it together, filing things away appropriately, tutting over different things, occasionally laughing to herself until a knock came at the door.

She set down the dirty teacup she'd been holding, taking quick steps towards the door with the intent of answering but pausing as it was opened without any invitation, a blond boy taking a step across the threshold before he stopped. The uniform and the rigid demeanour said passive, the boy - well, he was boyish in the face but the eyes were old for a teenager so perhaps it was more accurate to call him a man - wore the appearance of an animal that had found itself suddenly and inescapably cornered.

The penultimate year student had never seen him before but there was something familiar about him, no doubt that hunted, haunted look in those brown eyes that she'd seen in some passives before. She smiled in an attempt to reassure him, clasping her hands together as she let them drop below her waist, pressed lightly against her uniform's skirts.

"Well hello there. Don't worry, I'm not going to harm you. Won't you come in?"

She gestured for him to walk in, turning so that she was standing looking at him sidelong, less threatening in profile - she hoped - than when she was facing him head on.

"Are you looking for Professor Moore? Or Professor Devlin?" she asked, a slight change in colour in her cheeks at mentioning her crush's name.
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Fionn
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Sun Feb 17, 2019 10:21 am

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
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Fionn didn't deal with women too often. Well, that wasn't strictly true. He dealt with matrons if they were overseeing his work details and he dealt with passive women who were... well, either they were literally passive or they were a bit more willing to talk to him but... there was distance. There always had to be distance. You couldn't have a proper conversation with someone of the opposite sex, not really. It was too dangerous and rebellious as the young man was, he wasn't completely stupid. The relationships that he had with women were extremely superficial, limited and frankly, it was easier for him just to keep out of their way. Especially as they were so incredibly tempting. Frankly things would be a lot easier if he was simply gay because then he wouldn't have to deal with the fact that women were deliciously attractive.

But passive women couldn't hold themselves the way that a galdor one could. The way that this one did. Even though she was being somewhat demure, she still had a surety about her, a confidence that was being toned down, he realised, for his sake. She was trying not to intimidate him, which was... kind of laughable. As if he'd be intimidated by this slip of a woman who couldn't have been much older than him judging by the uniform. She might only be an inch or so smaller than him but if he punched her then he could break her.

Not that he was going to punch her, of course, because there was no reason to do so - he wasn't completely off the wall after all - and she was too pretty to hurt. Sweet Lady, why did she have to be pretty? Kind to him when she didn't even know him and he certainly didn't deserve it. Was there something about Laboratory Beta? Something in the air that made all the gollies go funny around passives? Or did Moore and Devlin only associate with people like them? Not that she could be an associate, not a real one, she was only a student. And yet she thought that he would be frightened of her, as if she could hurt him. On some level, he knew what she was of course but he was so used to dealing with women who didn't have magic and was so often kept away from galdori because he couldn't behave himself that he forgot for a minute.

"You aren't gonna harm me? What the fuck do you think you a- Oh right," he snapped out as he stepped forward, wincing as he encountered her field. Damn, she was strong or maybe it was the shock of encountering it so unexpectedly. His hand rose to the back of his neck, rubbing it in his discomfort, jaw working.

He'd already sworn at her, it made a great first impression, it really did. It probably wasn't the best thing to do, irritating a galdor, especially one who he might want to get information out of but then... maybe she didn't know anything useful.

"Sorry. For swearing, I shouldn't have- I haven't had the best day," he muttered, a hand moving unconsciously to his stomach where Ayden had punched him. It was quite tender, it had been quite a whack but in truth, the blond had suffered worse. It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

"I was... hoping to talk to Moore or Devlin but... it doesn't matter, I shouldn't have come. I just... I wanted to see if they knew about something, someone. He's my fri- well, he probably wouldn't see himself as- wouldn't see me as- It doesn't matter. I just thought he might have ended up here and that they could tell me how he was but... It's okay, I'll come back... some other time," he murmured, talking a step back.

He wasn't going to run away from a galdor. He wasn't going to give any galdor the satisfaction of running off with his tail between his legs. He certainly wasn't going to run away from this pretty little girl with her pleasant blushing face who thought that she could treat him like... well, it wasn't even that she was treating him like a person. She was treating him like some frightened animal that was beneath her. Maybe that was why he couldn't just walk out. His temper just had to rise to the fore.

"You know, just because you're a galdor doesn't mean that I have to be frightened of you. Magic can't always help you," he spat out, his words managing to carry the sting of threat.
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Maximus
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Mon Feb 18, 2019 5:59 pm

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
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Niamh didn't know what she'd expected. It wasn't that she thought of passives as truly well... passive, she just didn't expect them to snap at her. They were made docile, it was a by-product of what was done to them and while it wasn't something she agreed with, the redhead had simply assumed that they were like that. They didn't really talk back, didn't really share opinions, not unless they'd been coaxed into doing so. It tended to take time to undo the habit of years but then... maybe he was young enough that the habits hadn't really set in yet. There was something childish about his features so perhaps he was younger than she'd thought, even in spite of the old eyes.

That face was familiar though, she'd seen it somewhere, although she thought she'd have remembered the attitude that went with it if that was the case. She'd never known a passive to be so godsbedamned sullen, the boy walking in as if the galdor had caused him personal affront by suggesting that she might be a danger to him. Niamh's hazel eyes were suddenly huge, lips moving in soundless confusion. The eldest Madden wasn't the violent type - was very much in favour of helping everyone in fact - but she could still cause a great deal of harm if she needed to do so. She was a Living Conversationalist primarily: she could harm as readily as she could help. Yes, there wasn't much to her physically but she wasn't entirely useless.

It wasn't until he stepped into the scope of her field and stopped dead, realisation clearly dawning on his face. The student was shocked to find that he had somehow missed the fact that she was galdori. She was in uniform, student rather than servant uniform so surely it was obvious, right? Apparently not.

Niamh straightened up, chin rising a little in proud defiance as she considered him. How could he fail to see what she was? Had he thought that she was a passive? Really? How could this boy make such a silly mistake? Did he think that passives could just wander around, hang around in a laboratory by themselves as if they owned the place? How could he just... fail to realise that she was a galdor? Sure, passives could look like her, you couldn't always tell by looking but in this case...

Niamh was mystified, utterly mystified. She could only blink at him, watching his awkwardness but also his obvious anger in the tension of his jaw. Was he angry at her? At himself? But damn if there wasn't something very familiar about him. The face, something about the expression, a sense of having seen it before through younger eyes when the contours had been even softer than they were now. It was something that niggled at the back of her mind, feeling within its reaches, certain that if she just stretched a little further that she'd get it.

However, he was suddenly apologetic, still on edge and unhappy so that she wondered how much of that anger and swearing was a front, a hard facade so that nobody could hurt what was behind it. Clock the Circle, there was something familiar about that behaviour though. There was something familiar about him. It left her distracted, nodding along in silent acknowledgement of his words, missing some of the underlying facets of his speech, the missteps and stutters. Maybe if she was paying attention, she'd have seen something similar in his talk of a friend to how she talked about Harper Moore. Minus the guilt, of course.

"Whoever you're looking for, I might know about them or I can at least ask. You just have to ask, I'm not your enemy, you know. I work with the professors so if you know them then you know that I... share their views," she pointed out, pushing hair back from her face, something extremely thoughtful about her expression, frozen there at his attempt at a parting shot. It cooled by degrees.

"Was that a threat? I don't know who you think you are but you aren't in a position to be threatening me. I'm not here to frighten you. You don't have to think that everyone is against you! Just because you're a passive doesn't mean that you have to think you're alone," she threw back, reminded of another person who had tried to shrug her off, who'd thought he was alone.

Fionn.

It was an uncanny feeling, what went through her when she thought of him in relation to this boy. Recognition, discomfort, guilt.

How many years had it been since she'd seen her brother? There had been plenty of room for change of course but she'd always thought that she'd know him instantly. And yet... she wasn't sure, even as she mentally checked off similarities, reaching back a decade to when she'd known him better before her own entry to Brunnhold. Those memories were dimmer, fuzzier around the edges than she would have thought, the features a blur.

Could it be her Fionn? This sullen, snapping passive who seemed to think that everyone was against him... Gods, he could so easily be her brother.

"Was it your own fault?" she blurted out, the question an odd one but one that her brother would probably understand. It wasn't relevant here, not really but if it was her Fionn then it'd get a reaction wouldn't it? Something more than confusion.

She scanned his face earnestly, stepping forward.

"Your friend... you think he ended up here? We wouldn't do anything bad to him, you know. The things you hear... they're just stories," Niamh added, offering him a hesitant smile.
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Fionn
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Tue Feb 19, 2019 4:56 pm

Dentis 28 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
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Stupid pretty golly bitch! She should just keep her nose out. Admittedly, he was the one who'd butted into this situation, not the other way around but she was neither Moore nor Devlin so she could just... well, could she just not?

He just had to ask, did he? Well, for whatever reason the notion of asking this girl irked him. During their brief prior encounter, neither of the monic theorists had mentioned having a lab assistant. They'd suggested that they'd be there or that no one would be. At least... that's what he'd thought they'd been saying. Maybe he'd gotten that wrong but he also didn't think that he was meant to pour his heart out to some golly brat either. She could say whatever she liked as well because the passive didn't think that there were many galdori like Moore and Devlin but at the same time, would a typical galdor risk colouring themselves by making such an association unless they meant it? Probably not. So he could probably trust her. Trust her as much as he was willing to trust the other two, which honestly wasn't a huge amount.

It left him indecisive, unsure if he should ask her about Lars or to continue to be as surly as heck. It was always easier to bite though, wasn't it? Snap and hurt before retreating, that was what he liked to do. So of course, his acidic words had to come out and of course it managed to sound exactly like threat.

Because he was an idiot. So he decided to open his mouth and probably compound the problem.

"It wasn't a threat, I don't hit girls," he retorted sullenly, crossing his arms over his chest. It was true, he didn't go in for hitting girls but he also didn't go in for hitting gollies, mainly because if he tried it, he'd probably be dead or as good as dead. Besides, he didn't have to hit everything. The young man did a fair bit of eye rolling and sighing as she pulled the I'm-your-friend act. He'd seen that one often enough. Not from galdori admittedly but he'd spotted it among passives. More recently at least. He'd missed it with Ayden in the very beginning though, hadn't he?

Still he wanted to ask, didn't he? He really did want to know what had happened to Lars because he was bloody worried about his roommate. Worried enough to put his pride and stubbornness to one side.

"I'm looking for Lars. I... I think he came here but I didn't hear anything so... I was worried. He probably wouldn't believe that - me being worried - and he might not want to see me if I'm around but if you've heard anything or the others have then... please... I just..." he trailed off awkwardly, peering down at his feet. His arms unfolded, fingers curling into fists, clenched and unclenched as he struggled with keeping himself in check.

He wasn't going to beg but he couldn't afford to turn tail and run either. Not yet. Not until he'd found out if this girl knew anything.

But then something in her expression shifted, the redhead gazing at him a little too intensely. It was something he caught in a furtive glance, unconsciously shrinking back a bit in the face of her scrutiny. It was like she was trying to work something out about him, something- Did she know him? How in clocking hell would she?

And then came the question, brown eyes suddenly fixed intently on hazel ones. His lips parted, a hiss of sound escaping from between them as he tried to process the odd question. Even without the current context, what he'd just said about Lars - which she couldn't possibly know about unless she knew exactly what had happened to the other passive - there was something unsettling about her question. He swallowed, Adam's apple pushed up and down painfully as he gawked at her.

His own fault.

It was that use of 'own'. Saying it yourself, referring to something for which you were the only one who could be blamed was one thing but in a question... that was odd. Quite specific in fact. How many times had he said that something was all his own fault until someone had picked up on it, turned it into a question, fired it back on him when he began to talk about things that had gone wrong, things-

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Definitely not.

Not her. It wasn't, no matter how much the memory tried to surface. He didn't know this woman. It certainly wasn't- No, it was a coincidence, a weird one but-

So many freckles. How many times had he teased about how he could connect them and-

NO!

It wasn't Niamh, it couldn't be!

His body was completely tense, the young man raised up on his toes, ready to take flight, hands moving a little restlessly on his thighs, nervous birds ready to take flight.

It was all the worse of course because what had happened had been his own fault, not entirely but enough of his own doing. He'd fucked up and he knew it.

"I didn't want to- I didn't want him to get hurt, I didn't, you can't say that that was my fault. I know what I did but I thought- Clock the Circle, why am I telling you this?" he asked, shifting from foot to foot, clearly jittery.

It wasn't Niamh. She was the right age probably, the right facial features if aged, the same compassion, the same words but it wasn't- It couldn't be-

"I don't know that he's here or that he came here but I hope he came here because if he didn't then... he might be- I don't want to think about what might have happened to him but... do you know anything or not?"

The blond was edging back, getting closer and closer to the door, closer and closer to bolting. All he needed was a response. A 'no' would see him gone, spewing venom in his wake to deter her from following, to ensure that she wouldn't pursue him.

Because it wasn't Niamh.

Because if it was then it would be so, so much worse. Better that she stayed out of his life because she wasn't meant to be near him.
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Maximus
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Wed Feb 20, 2019 5:40 pm

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
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He didn't hit girls.

Something in her own jaw tightened, the displeasure quite evident on her features. She didn't want him to hit her - or anyone else for that matter - but was he really taking exception because she was a woman? Clock the Circle, she was sick of men acting as if her sex meant that they had to treat her differently because she was more 'delicate' or some other chroveshit. And he seemed to mean it too, the student looking him over closely, nothing about him screaming 'thug' but she doubted that he was weak and tempers could come in any size package; she knew that from experience.

If this was her brother though... funnily enough, he'd always said the same thing, hadn't he? But he'd still taken to thumping her in the arm, usually to an indignant squawk and a whined "I thought you didn't hit girls." Fionn had always had an answer to that: "It's all right, you're not a real girl."

This boy was certainly more than sullen enough to be Fionn, assuming that he hadn't improved over the years. Actually, if it was Fionn then he'd gotten a lot worse. And yet still Niamh wasn't sure. How could she have any doubt about her own brother? Surely, it should be something quite obvious to her. In spite of the time that had passed, how much things had changed on their different paths, they should still be recognisable to each other... right?

It wasn't instant, certainly but there were so many little indications now that she was looking for them, signs that perhaps she was seeing simply because she wanted to see them. The struggle to get the words out, the difficulty in admitting something when he'd sooner keep it in or at least keep up his nasty tone. That desire to snap was still there, his whole demeanour radiating vulnerability and his issue with it. She'd seen that before although it had been awhile and it hadn't been so... extreme before. If this was Fionn.

But he was asking about Lars, someone who didn't want to see him and yet worried him. Why was he worried? Why wouldn't this person want to see him? He'd gone to say 'friend' before and then stopped, hadn't he? So... he counted him as a friend but this Lars guy didn't seem him the same way? Or had it just been something inaccurate?

Frankly, she didn't care about this passive, whoever he was, even if he'd brought this blond boy to her. All she cared about was the boy in front of her right now. The boy who was definitely having a response to her oddly phrased question, a frightened recognition in his brown eyes. Everything about him screamed understanding, terror in his gaze, brown eyes swimming pools of tortured agony.

Those eyes, looking at her directly, filled with fright and pain and at least a little longing... she knew those eyes.

It was Fionn.

Her body suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted, setting her knees wobbling as if they'd suddenly been freed from some oppression and didn't know how to deal with the return of full control. And there he was talking away, nervous as hell because he knew who she was. He had to know, or at least suspect. He had to know.

Clock the Circle, she just had to open her mouth or move her clocking feet and take him into her arms, this trembling, near flighty mess. Her brother.

"You didn't- I'm sure you did what you thought was best but... mistakes happen. I know that but I don't know anything about your friend. But maybe you're telling me because you know who I am. You do, don't you? Fionn... I..." she whispered, head tilting, an uncertain smile on her lips as she took a step forward, a hand moving as if to reach out and touch him.
word count: 712
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Fionn
Posts: 101
Joined: Wed Nov 28, 2018 11:17 am
Topics: 18
Race: Passive
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Post Templates: Post Templates
Plot Notes: [url=http:/fullurl/]Plot Notes[/url]
Writer: Maximus
Contact:

Sun Mar 24, 2019 11:37 am

Dentis 28, 2718 | Evening
Laboratory Beta
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Every cell in Fionn's body tensed and tried to retreat from the girl. Every part of him was repelled, the similarity between them both making it impossible for him to remain. He couldn't stay in her proximity, but found himself fumbling behind him for the handle, seeking escape. His palms were sweaty, slipping over wood as he blindly sought the metal of the handle. He wasn't taking his eyes off Niamh. If he stared her down, refused to look away then maybe he could keep her at bay long enough because as it was, she seemed ready to embrace him and he didn't need that, didn't need this right now. Oh it might only be a hand now, a potentially tentative touch but something in her posture said that even though she was uncertain of him, it was something she wanted.

Well Fionn fucking did not!

If he took his eyes of her, she might take it as acquiescence, permission and she mustn't think that. He couldn't let his sister gather him into her arms because it wasn't fair. Where had she been all these years when he'd needed her? She'd never looked, she'd never cared, perhaps had been ashamed to have a passive in the family - that was the usual way - so why was she acting now as if she was glad about this reunion? Why didn't she just shrink away in disgust and contempt and be done with it? But she hadn't done that since before she knew who he was so she was just one of those gollies like Moore and Devlin, the odd-ones-out, hardly the normal sort. So she wasn't going to back away, was she? No, apparently, she was going to act as if the intervening years had never occurred and he was the same boy he'd been when she knew him. Oh he was still bad but his badness had gained interest in here, grown into something far, far worse.

Look what he'd done to Lars. Look what he'd done over the years. How many relationships had turned nasty in his presence although more often than not, he got out of them mostly intact, leaving destruction and misery and pain in his wake? She was his sister, even if she hadn't been that for a long time. She was better off remaining that way - not really being his sister. She needed to get as far away from him as possible for both of their sakes.

And it was clear how he could maintain that distance. The girl had always been sensitive and empathetic and that didn't appear to have gone away. What was more, she really seemed to want him to accept her gesture, to go to her and so if he didn't...

He'd always had a talent for breaking his sister's heart when she was only trying to help. He was very good at being a bastard so that she'd back off.

"Keep the fuck away from me, you golly cunt!" he spat as he found the handle. He wrenched the door open enough so he could slip through, slamming it shut behind him.

And then he ran. There was always the chance that she'd follow in spite of the harshness and so he ran, desperate to put distance between them. He ran because if he didn't get away far enough and fast enough then he might slink back and apologise. In this place, allies - real ones - were difficult to come by and to have one who would take him without really knowing anything about him, about what he'd done, someone who might be willing to love him in spite of everything was all too tempting.

You don't deserve it. You don't deserve her, not after what you did to Lars. You'll destroy her too,

It's Niamh, I wouldn't- I'd never-

Hurt her? Do you think that those words didn't hurt? Wasn't that the point, Fionn? Wasn't that exactly what you wanted to do? the dark inner voice questioned, the truth of its argument inescapable. He couldn't have Niamh. He couldn't go near her. This was better. He'd hurt her now but this was something she could come back from. If he had contact with her then he might hurt her again and it might end up with her never coming back from anything ever again.

Better to be alone, safer. He had to protect everyone from himself.
word count: 802
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