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Old 06-02-2021, 10:04 PM   #24 (permalink)
Felixir

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Nem's eyes had drifted to their abandoned tea, their mind ticking away rapidly but reliably, assessing the situation with this newfound clarity, making new sense of it.

Control. Nem had lost their hold on it when they'd made such a glaring oversight, and all the mistakes since. As they ran through their memory of this meeting, this entire day, and all those interactions with Lucien over the past two years, they could now see the situation for what it was. A loss. Just this once, just this game, and not even because Trent had intentionally bested them. A loss all the same, and a potentially significant one.

But, now that it had happened, maybe they could get something out of it. Find and hold onto something that might benefit them, something they wanted. Anything. Nem could turn even a clear loss to their advantage; they could do anything, they could adapt to anything.

There's nothing wrong with you.

Assaulted by a rush of memory, Nem looked up, momentarily dazed before they refocused on Trent. "Don't say that unless you mean it." The irony there was not lost on them, but it didn't matter. "It won't mean anything until you know."

Trent had learned some of the truth, but now Nem could control how much more of it he got, if any, as long as they were more careful. There was a certain kind of power in that, a power they'd always had, and enjoyed exercising. It was only now that Trent already knew the tiniest sliver of information - now that he'd expressed that he wanted to hear it - that Nem felt any temptation to use their power differently.

There was a long pause, weighed down by thoughts Nem still would not voice; even now, self-preservation kicked in. If they were going to do this, it would be on their own terms, little by little. They kept their eyes on Trent, and they spoke, quiet but clear.

"I'm the kind of different that is considered 'unacceptable', and I learned to hide long before I understood why I needed to. From everyone: friends, parents, my twin." Objectively speaking, that last was probably where they might draw the most criticism, but that was not for here. "I don't want to, but I know what will happen if I don't." Exactly what, why, the kind of different they were, and the many implications of this, Nem didn't say just yet. Little by little.

"I didn't have to hide from Lucien. He could see the way I think; he can't have entirely understood, but it didn't matter. Anyone else would have tried to fix me, or send me away, or maybe just never look directly at me. He accepted it. There was a place for me in his world. The real me." Nem stopped a moment, a little abruptly; even that felt like a lie on their lips. The real them. They couldn't have possibly said who that was. "... I never looked for acceptance, or understanding. I never cared, about that or about anything else. I still don't, but finding it was a nice accident. I didn't realise what it could mean for me until he gave it to me." Again, they avoided specifics.

"And now he's dead. There's a plaque, and everything." In the courtyard; Nem had noticed it earlier that day, when they went to take a closer look at the place where the Big Man had become The Greater Corpse.

Nem flexed their fingers on the arms of the chair. This whole time, but for a certain subdued look in the eye, they'd kept their expression and tone locked down, their own mental defences up. More shield than charade. "I think that's all I want to tell you today."
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