Deceit has been known to throw balled up socks any time that one of the sides has projected their lies onto one of the others. Heâs lost count to how many pairs heâs lost because Roman has kept them, so instead, he has a different tier status for all of them.Â
Roman gets terrifying stuffed animals thrown at him.
Patton gets knitted clouds stuffed with rice thrown at him.
Virgil is the proud owner of disproportionate monster plushies thrown at his face.
And Logan gets soft kiddie books that are made out of cotton thrown at him.
This keeps up, until the moment that Deceit himself projects one of his very own lies onto one of them. It slips out if he isnât lying, it slips out, and before he can even recognize it let alone stop it, all four objects are being pelted right back at him.
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Deceitâs favorite PokĂŠmon is a caterpi and a zubat, both are extremely common PokĂŠmon(s?), but heâs taken to summoning them in the mind scape whenever he wants to.
âLogic. Logic. Logic.â Deceit practically crooned out Loganâs title as he slowly circled around him, the carpeted floor made his footsteps completely silent as he finally came to a stop. Logan could see the flapping of his cape just to the left of him, mere moments before Deceit suddenly appeared in on his right side. The warmth of Deceitâs hands resting on his shoulder sent a shudder through his entire body, although, if he was being entirely honest it wasnât necessarily out of fear. âYou shouldnât know not to come down here alone,â A sly smile curled onto the dark sideâs lips. âWhat if you were to come across some dastardly villain, who wanted to use you for nefarious purposes.â
Of course getting to Virgil in his time of need was really going to be something that would be impossible for Deceit, he, of course, knew that. But it certainly didnât make things easier for him, quite frankly the number of times heâd seen Virgil moving away in a huff to go to his bedroom and lock himself away was one too many for Deceit. He knew that Virgilâs bad days came and went sometimes, and other times stuck around but it infuriated him that the anxious side wouldnât get the help that he honestly needed from the family that he had now.
Patton would obviously love to help Virgil as he himself had seen the soft and cuddly side doting on Virgil too many times for him to honestly count, and Logan knew a lot about mental health that would help Virgil and he knew anxiety attacks, Roman..in his own way would be able to help Virgil. So he just didnât get it, why wouldnât he go to them?
Was he scared of coming off as needy? Did he just not want to bother the others? Was he ashamed of what he was going through?
Looking at Virgil and looking at him hard, what Deceit saw really saddened him in the end, but it also made him that much more determined to do what must be done for the anxious side. If Virgil wasnât going to talk to them, then Deceit would give him the push that he needed in order to make it happen, even if it killed him in the process.
It was with that in mind that he stuffed his inner pockets full and waited on the couch, the others rarely paid attention to him anymore since he had been showing his face more and more in their area of the mindscape. Heâd just kind of become a part of the background to them, and while at first that had really stung and hurt his feelings to the point he had gone to his room for a good couple of days to just cry it out and curl up by himself to watch his favorite movies. He had been tired of being in the background and hidden in the shadows with all of the other dark sides, and now it was practically just the same with the ones who he had thought might not accept him right away, but eventually would welcome him. He had been wrong.
However, right now it worked perfectly in his favor as he sat amongst the others, he kept his entire body relaxed as he pretended to be watching the tv show that Roman seemed completely enamored with. He personally didnât understand the reasoning behind rocks from outer space taking care of a prepubescent boy, but he wasnât one to judge especially as he had rather grown attached to the green one in the show. It was a little hard to drag his attention from the show and occasionally look over to Virgil, who too had been watching the show.
At least at one point.
Now his legs were scrunched up to his chest and his cheek was resting against them. Following the anxious sideâs line of sight, he noticed that it was fixed onto a particular book that Logan was reading, and just like that he began to notice the signs. Alleviated breathing, how his fingers started to dig into the fabric of his pants, the biting of his lower lip, and how he seemed to be trying to say something but just couldnât get it out. He was about to have a panic attack, and Deceit wasnât about to let Virgil sink or run away from him this time, at least not before he could give him his message before the deceitful side ducked out and ran like a coward.
When Virgil got up to his feet, Deceit knew that it was time as he gripped the item inside of his cloak, he kept still as to not attract any attention to himself as Virgil turned his back to them on the couch moving to make his way upstairs. WhenâŚ
Thwack! A hard yet soft object pelted the anxious side in the back of the head, and Virgil spun on his heel his anxious fit nearly forgotten in his rage as he was prepared to rail on whoever had thrown something at him. He had an entire speil ready and everything for the dirtbag who had thrown something at him.
However, upon turning around he froze, sitting on the ground and apparently what had hit him in the back of the head. Was a soft tiny beanie baby, it was a black kitten around the size of his palm with a yellow piece of paper wrapped around its middle and sealed with a piece of tape. His mouth snapped shut as he leaned down to pick it up as he rubbed the back of his head the sensation of being hit with the beanie baby already fading away.
Pulling the note off Virgil was forced to bite his lower lip as tears welled within his eyes, âWe all love you Virgil, and I can tell that something is wrong. Please talk to us, you are apart of a family and all of us will hear what you have to say. Please donât run away.â
A hand clasped over Virgil's mouth and a little sniffle left him, he knew that the writer of this note was right, but he had felt...stupid thinking about going to them. He had felt stupid about going to them about the things that set him off and made his own anxiety crank up to eleven, he had felt stupid about having to explain it to them. He had thought that he could deal with it, but the message on the note was right.
They were his family, they would care, and they would listen to them.
This time Deceit didnât stick around as Virgil went to Patton, he sank out and nobody saw him go to the bathroom, nobody saw him gripping his chest as the tears trailed down his face. They didnât see him and they didnât hear him as he let out a muffled sob at just how much it hurt, it hurt to never show how much he cared for all of them, and it hurt to have them all treat him so coldly.
It hurt so much, because, in the end, he knew that they would never treat him any differently than they did now. They just didnât see him, not enough to care.
Summary: Something that no one saw coming, Logan and Deceit bond over being the âleast popular charactersâ and at the new development the other sides feel jealous. They had never thought that Logan wouldnât always be there with them and for them, now though, they have to deal with the fact that not all falsehoods are uncommon.
Two, Three, Four, Five, Six
Staring at Roman, Logan couldnât help the unpleasant and sour feeling curdling in his stomach like sour milk that wanted to expel itself. They had long since sunk out of Thomasâ sight, and now...now he watched as Patton gushed and worried over Roman, he watched as Virgil slunk closer to the creative side placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Eventually, Loganâs gaze drifted down to the glass container in his hand, his own cartoonized face stared back at him, forever stuck in a smile. Glancing back up as he spotted Patton throwing his arms around Roman in a tight crushing hug, that sour feeling bubbled up once again.
Envy.
He believed the word for the entirely unpleasant and sour sensation that rolled around inside of him was called. Collecting traction like a snowball rolling down a snowy hill after a blizzard. Logan believed that it was usually defined as painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another joined with a desire to possess the same advantage.
If he wasnât too far off, Roman had experienced the emotion more than once, when Patton had given Virgil more cookies than him. Which had led to its own little scuffle.
Yes, envy was an accurate way to describe the way that he was...feeling, right now. Just the acknowledgment of the fact that it was even there, to begin with, made his insides feel like they were a big plate of spaghetti and someone was winding them up with a big fork. Â Although, at the same time...he couldnât help but to mentally note the traces of something else as well, something that he had on more than one occasion pushed to the back of his mind whenever it popped up in its unpleasant way.
Seeing Roman with the other two, it came back rearing its ugly head the longer that he stared at the three of them, and this time he allowed himself to mull over just what it may be.
It was unpleasant that was for sure, and it made his heart and stomach feel like he had tied a stone to them and thrown it into a river. After experiencing the sensation, it was worth noting that his shoulders slumped down more than usual along with the drooping of his head, his hair hung in front of his glasses as well, and in this case, he didnât seem too motivated to move it out of the way. It even seemed a lot harder than it should have been to put on his normal blank smile, although, the muscles that it took to smile were far less in compared to a frown. So normal muscle movement was impeded, and his internal organs felt some reaction to the emotion he was feeling. Â
Worst of all, the jar of Crofters in his hand didnât even bring the spark of happiness that it had before, the light airy feeling of seeing himself on the bottle was all but swept away in the torrent of this newer and more troubling emotion that he couldnât yet put a finger on.
Unbeknownst to him, Loganâs brows furrowed in the usual way that they did when he was trying to find a puzzle piece that wasnât obvious to him just yet. His lips formed into the usual unpleasant and nearly upsetting pout, not that the others seemed to notice as both Virgil and Patton were busy comforting Roman after the spiel that he had revealed midway through talking with Thomas.
But that was fine, it was just fine. He could deal with this himself, he didnât need their help when it came to figuring out his emotions, he could do it. He could.
Loganâs grip on the jar tightened just a little, but giving a firm shake of his head to no one but himself and moving his hair out of the way of his glasses. Logan sank down, rising back up in his room, surrounded by the comforting feeling of focus and the facts that made up his existence. Clicking on the desk lamp a glare was cast over the framed picture of the four of them, as usual, Virgil had looked a little uncomfortable being in the picture but he still managed a smile, just like Roman and Patton as they grinned widely. The only one who hadnât been grinning was him, as he just blankly stared with a single eyebrow raised. The picture was pretty much them in a nutshell, with Logan as the odd one out. Perhaps that explained it all.
A sigh that he hadnât been aware that he was keeping in slipped out of him, and with a soft thud he firmly set the jar of jam down on his desk before sitting down in his wheely chair with a heavy huff.
It was time for research.
Back in the kitchen, however, Loganâs absence did not go unseen despite what the logical side may have thought when he left. A curious head tilted to the side, as the swell of emotions shifted over Loganâs face, up until the point where it all seemed to be too much for the glasses-wearing side, the onlooker glanced over to the other three and seeing as they collectively saw absolutely nothing he then glanced back over to where Logan stood. Or at least where he had been standing.
âNot curious at allâŚâ The onlooker hummed his mismatched eyes staring for a moment longer, before he turned his back to the lot of them treading back into the kitchen. Whatever it was that was bothering Logan, it definitely wasnât any of his business, and he definitely wasnât going to intrude. It certainly wouldnât help Logan, and he honestly didnât care all that much. Logan could do perfectly fine on his own, and yetâŚ
Loganâs head snapped up in a quick rush the moment he heard the sound of the spoon clanged against the glass of the jam jar. Before him, piles upon piles of note cards were in front of him along with several papers that were filled with his observations, in just the minutes that he had been out of sight he had completely uprooted every single note card that he had ever made on the particular emotions that he had felt. Yet, none of them, none at all, led him to be any closer to what he felt when he had stared at Roman and the others in the living room.
But that all seemed so unimportant as the snake face grinned down at him, clanging the spoon against the jar once again.
âSpoon for your thoughts?â The words troubled Logan for a second, and the action of the spoon hitting the lid of the jar again seemed somewhat less menacing than it had before as the grin now that he really and honestly looked at it seemed to be somewhat sympathetic. Although, Deceit seemed to be trying his hardest to keep that flare of dramatics with him at all times.
âWhy do you care? Why are you even here?â Logan couldnât help but to snap at the dark side, and he felt almost more infuriated by the pout that made Deceitâs bottom lip jut out as the tips of his own ears heated up a little bit.
âWhy not indeed!â Deceit cackled, and just the fun of it he tapped the spoon against the lid once more, soon enough Logan was going to snatch that from him. But before he could do such a thing, Deceitâs quick and nimble fingers plucked up one of the papers that Logan had been scrawling his notes onto.
The logical side attempted to snatch it back, only for the deceitful side to smoothly sidestep him, moving out of the way as if this were some game or a dance that Logan didnât know the rules or the steps to just yet.
His handwriting was barely legible, something that constantly took the others forever to decipher, along with the constant scribblings he did on the margins as his afterthoughts. But Deceitâs mismatched eyes trailed over the words, as Logan felt his face unconsciously heating up more and more as his eyes trailed to the ground. Soon it would come, Deceit would mock him for emotion that Logic of all people could feel and heâd do something with his work, heâd rip it up, burn it, or worst of all, heâd take it and it to the others. Letting them see his most private thoughts and hypotheses, his clenched fists shook as he kept them resting calmly in his lap.
It would happen any second now.
Yet, the sound of the paper sliding on the smooth wooden top of his desk was all that he heard for a moment, Deceit deliberated for a moment his fingers curling and uncurling as his arm was stretched out just a little bit. He was just a little bit uncertain about Loganâs stance on touch, and after thinking and mulling it over for a few seconds he let his hand fall back down to his side.
âLoganâŚâ Deceit finally began, watching as Loganâs eyes snapped up to meet his own. So he had his attention at least, that was good. At least he could be sure that Logan would hear what he had to say, before completely refuting it as a falsehood.
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Summary:Â Something that no one saw coming, Logan and Deceit bond over being the âleast popular charactersâ and at the new development the other sides feel jealous. They had never thought that Logan wouldnât always be there with them and for them, now though, they have to deal with the fact that not all falsehoods are uncommon.
Sad.
Most usually defined as affected by unhappiness or grief; sorrowful or mournful or being affected by sorrow in a variety of ways.
He wasnât sad though...was he? The mere idea of it befuddled Logan, envy he could feel, the happiness he too could evidently feel as well, disappointment was a sensation he was adequately familiar with as well. But sadness? He wasnât sure why the idea of being able to express the sadness of all things seemed to alien to him, especially when he had come to grip with all of the other smaller emotions that constantly got in his way day after day.
Was this it though? Was this the thing that he had been pushing and pushing back every time it had tried to make itself known? How could he be certain though? As Patton had said, Thomas dealt with a lot of emotions on a day to day basis, and thus all of them had a lot of emotions as well. Perhaps he needed to experiment more, or study up on the human emotional spectrum andâŚ
âLogan.â
Deceitâs firm and tense voice snapped him out of the spiral of his thoughts, looking at the snake-faced side he saw something on his face, an expression, or rather an emotion he wasnât too familiar with. Before he knew it, Logan was shaking his head at Deceit, completely running over whatever the lying side had been about to say to him.
âNo.â He quickly said, not leaving any room for an argument, âIâm not sad, I canât feel sadness. This is something else, youâre lying, but then again that in itself isnât too much of a surprise. It is who you are, I am Logic.â Repeating the words inside of his head made him somehow feel better and worse all at the same time, was this how Patton felt? Was this how he felt when he was repressing everything and acting like everything was just fine and dandy?
Honestly, it felt awful not that he was going to admit it, the words âI am not sadâ felt like a burning poison on his tongue, a poison that felt nearly impossible to swallow down all by himself. However, he could and he would do it, because he wasnât sad, he couldnât be sad. Not him.
Before him, Deceit set the spoon down with a surprising amount of force for someone who had once seemed to be pretty calm just a few seconds ago. A muscle in Deceitâs cheek jumped and throbbed, but Logan didnât comment on it as the lying sideâs burning eyes stared into his own like he was trying to scorch Logan alive. He almost seemed...angry? No, the word irritated seemed more in stride to how Deceit was looking at him, of course, he managed to make even Deceit irritated at him as well.
âLying suits you Logan, you donât know that and I havenât had enough.â The words may as well have been hissed from behind Deceitâs clenched teeth, and any previous reservations about touching Logan before went completely out of the window as Deceit reached forward before tightly grasping Loganâs shoulders. His fingers dug into the thin narrow shoulders that he could feel under Loganâs polo shirt, getting a good grip on him.
The other side stiffened up somewhat at the contact, but really, Deceit had gone too far to go back now as he gave Logan a firm shake that rocked his chair back and forth. Loganâs eyes had widened a little bit behind his glasses, letting him know that Deceit had his full attention.
âDonât listen to me Logan, you canât feel sadness, and you are not apart of a human and thus you donât share those feeling that Thomas has. If Roman, Virgil, or anybody else can feel them, then you most certainly canât! I am Deceit, it isnât just a job Logan. Donât listen to me.â Another shake rocked the chair again, but this time Logan planted his feet on the ground stopping the tipping motion that Deceit was eliciting.
The logical side swallowed thickly, as if trying to swallow down a big wad of food that had gotten stuck in his throat.
He didnât want to believe it, wading through the emotions that he knew was bad enough, but sadness on top of it all? How was he supposed to deal with this, how was he supposed to open himself up and let the others see what was truly inside of him? Could he trust them to see the feelings for what they even were, or would they even care enough to look?
Squadless geek! Youâre alone! Roman.
Get over it, youâre the least popular character⌠Virgil.
Shut your ever-flapping gob-talker Logan. And...Patton.
No, no they wouldnât.
Warmth trailed down his cheeks, and with a look of abject horror on his face Deceit jerked back away from Logan. Recoiling like Logan was a bee that had stung him on the hand, more than that, Deceit had a look on his face. A look that for once Logan knew the meaning of, he saw it several times when Roman looked at Virgil, and a few times when he looked at Patton.
It was guilt.
âI..Iâm n-â Loganâs fingers touched the wetness on his own cheeks, and before he knew it a watery chuckle left him, it sounded every bit as sad and broken as he felt on the inside. He never thought that heâd actually be able to cry, tears of all things had seemed so foreign to him, something that he had yet to experience.
Thomas had cried who knows how many times in the years that he had grown up, and he had seen Patton and the others cry along with him. But they had never come to grace him, and Logan for the longest time had simply figured that tears were beyond him. A feeling, an action, and a response that he couldnât comprehend, unlike the others. Yet another thing that just set him apart from the others, and something else that only solidified the feeling of sadness being a puzzle piece that he just didnât have.
Logan shook his head though, as Deceit wrung his hands worriedly around his wrists, like a guilty man rubbing at the place where handcuffs had previously been.
âNo..â Logan cleared his throat, attempting to talk as normal as someone who was in the process of crying could. âYou didnât do this, I justâŚcame to a realization.â He attempted to explain as he drew the pad of his thumb under his eye, swiping away the trail of salty tears that had collected there. Before he knew it, there was a tissue in front of his face, and the yellow gloved hand that held it went back to Deceit who was stubbornly looking away.
âI can stay if you would like.â The words were crystal clear, and yet it took Logan a moment to decipher just what the deceitful side was saying to him, and after plucking the tissue from his hand the furrowed pinch between his brows relaxed and softened as it finally dawned on him.
OhâŚ
âYou may stay, my research has been concluded anyway. If you would like to...you may help me put together a puzzle, there are a lot of pieces. Too many for one person to put together.â Seeing Deceitâs head shift over and his eyes staring into Logan with the kind of disbelief of someone who was waiting for the shoe to drop, he couldnât help but to wonder if he had not only misjudged his own emotions, but those of Deceit as well.
Deceit has a lot of pockets in his cape, so many of them are sewn to the insides of it both for aesthetic purposes but also for a few very useful ones as well. Some days they are lined to the brim with tissues, the others donât know this and if they did they would probably assume that he was just out to make trouble with them in some fashion or form, they would never see Deceit as a big evil villain if he knew what he really used them for and honestly, he couldnât have that now could he?
There, of course, is a reason for the tissues of course, just as there are reasons for everything that he carries around with him, on days like this. But making his way up the stairs it becomes obvious what they are meant for as soon as he gets on his hands and knees and starts crawling forward in order to minimize the sounds that he makes. The door he crawls to is open but just barely, he can hear angry mutters and mumbles on the other side of it and a smirk lights up his scaly face as he eases it open.
Peering his head in he sees his target, bend over his desk and in tears of frustration as he tries to do something..anything out on paper, but it just isnât happening for him. Roman is in the mists of a creative block, that should be easy as day and night for the other sides to figure out, but as the only side who can really just see what lays below the surface of anything really, it falls on him of all people to do something about it.
Of course, he could just tell people about what he sees, and what might be coming, but that is something that never works, or at least it probably wouldnât. Heâs never really gotten the guts to tell anyone about what might be happening to the others, heâs Deceit for crying out loud so why would they trust him? Why would they believe him? Why would they care?
So it falls to him to solve this, as Roman sags down in his chair with his hands pressed to his face as his bottom lip starts to tremble Deceit can see that it's about to start. The shaking of Romanâs shoulders give it away, and within a second Deceit is scrounging around in one of those many pockets for a bunch of tissues. Summoning a sharpie he starts to write on one of them.
âDonât do this to yourself, youâre allowed to be burnt out and tired. Take a break, please.â Crumpling it up, Deceit takes aim and fires at Romanâs head, it connects and before Roman can even look up let alone unravel the tissue Deceit is gone.
He doesnât see Roman looking around for the villain who would have thrown the wad of tissues at him, and he doesnât see Roman reading the note as he uses one of the tissues to wipe his tears away.
He doesnât see it, because he doesnât have to. As Roman barrels down the stairs just an hour later thanking Patton for caring so much about him, Patton, of course, is confused by it and but doesnât comment, and Deceitâs hurt doesnât go noticed. How could it? They donât see him.
Just a week later his many pockets are filled with something else and he slinks around the mindscape again his eyes trained on the person who is his target of interest this time. He tells himself that he will not fail this time, as every time he had gone to approach the logical side there has been one of the other sides with him leaving him unable to do what he needed to do. This time though, Patton is cooking in the kitchen, Virgil is listening to his music at the breakfast bar, and Roman is singing away in the shower. It is the perfect time for him to strike.
Logan is sitting on the couch with a book in hand which isnât too unusual for him to be doing at this time of day, it is his usually scheduled relaxing time. Which in itself isnât too odd for him to do, after all the book is one of Loganâs favorites, Patton had given it to him on the birthday of his name reveal and he always read it and re-read it. That isnât the problem that Deceit notices today, today he notices just like most of Loganâs scheduled relaxing times. Is that he isnât actually reading his book.
Loganâs eyes as he notices, are just staring blankly at the words not actually processing the same page he had been looking at for nearly twenty minutes.
Deceit ducks behind the far end of the couch arm peering over the edge, today Loganâs eyes look sad, but below even that Deceit can see it. It isnât just sadness he sees in there and it isnât that Logan has zoned out of reality, itâs something else that canât be fixed within a day, but over time. Although he can certainly help to start it off.
Logan jerks back into reality as a spoon hits him on the side of his leg, he nearly drops his book from how off guard it caught him and before he can scold himself he notes to himself there is a message tied around the spoon. So he looks around, thereâs no one in sight and Virgilâs back is still turned to him and judging by just where the spoon came from there is no way that it could have been Virgil.
Out of curiosity more than anything he picks it up and unravels the paper attached to it, and reading it make something in his chest and his eyes sting for some reason.
âYou are not alone, you are not a robot, and you do have feelings. If those feelings are hurt by someone do not let it go unknown and untold, let them know they hurt you. You are loved, Logan.â
Once again Deceit is gone as soon as Logan got the message, and well before Logan peers over the edge of the couch.
He is there, however, when Logan comes into the dining room that evening and thanks Patton just as Roman did to him. Patton is once again confused, but he ignores that in favor of hugging Logan when the logical side confesses many things to him. Just like before Deceit feels hurt, but he too ignores that feeling in favor of reveling in something else.
It had been a few days, four days to be exact since Logan had forced Deceit out of the logical sideâs room. Or rather Jabberâs room as he had come to know him as, the Logan he had seen inside of that room was NOT logic. He didnât how or what had happened to this twisted and usual form of logic but he had a pretty good idea that it had to do with the light sides.
It took several tries to get back inside of this Jabberâs room, knocking and asking whether he wished to come out or even eat anything. He never received a response when it came to that, and being honest with himself, Deceit wasnât expecting to get one either. Logan...no Jabber was reclusive, much more so than what he had heard about from the light sides through the grapevine. Perhaps though, this wasnât any fault of Jabberâs, he needed to get the side to trust him, to confide in his presence if he was going to make any sort of process about what had happened to the previously logical side.
What stood out to him most was the crevices, those dark blue and deeply jagged cracks that had formed on the newly dark sideâs flesh.
What had happened? Was he kicked out of the light quarters? Did he no longer feel welcome there?
Each question tugged at his mind like an incessant kitten tugging at the end of a yarn string, but they would have to wait for later. For now...he needed to learn how to get on Jabberâs good side. So, after an hour of standing in the kitchen and not knowing what on earth he was supposed to do, Deceit gave a grumpy huff. Why was taking care of people so hard to do? He knew nothing about this new side! Why couldnât he just let him in for Peteâs sake, or at least talk to him?!
But he knew that answer, just as he had known the moment he had heard the door slamming when Logan had kicked him out. His trust had been broken, and if no one else was going to repair it, then by damned Deceit would take that task even if he was going to complain all along the way.
In the end, he made pasta. Pasta was easy, just adding some noodles to some boiling water and adding some sauce to it all. It turned out to be a little soupier than he had hoped for, as it turned out he was supposed to actually drain the water before adding anything else. But with a few cubes of chicken, it didnât taste all that bad. He at least hoped that it would appease Jabber enough to let him in.
So with two bowls, a couple of spoons, and the entire pot of soup-pasta. He made his way to the room that had appeared between the laundry room and Insomniaâs room at the end of the hall. The other had spent a good portion of the day whining about how the arrival had kept him up later than usual, but they all knew the truth. Like Deceit, Insomnia was worried.
Nevertheless, he rapped his knuckles on the door, pressed his ear against the cold darkly colored metal door he could hear shuffling behind it. âLo-Jabber I made some food, let me in?â Deceit mentally berated himself for slipping up and using the logical sideâs old name, it wasnât his intention to seem cruel to Jabber.
Behind the door, the shuffling stopped, at least untilâŚ
âWhat is it?â The voice was right behind the door, and for a good second Deceit had to calm his racing heartbeat at the suddenness of it before he swallowed the saliva in his mouth.
âI made soup, it was meant to be pasta but mistakes happen.â He forced a chuckle out of himself, and the silence stretched between them for a good couple of minutes. At least until he stumbled forward the door creaking open like something that youâd see in a horror movie right before a jumpscare. No jumpscare came thankfully, it was just Jabber sitting on his bed with a cover thrown over his head the dim light to his lamp once again working.
Everything seemed to be dulled here, the light no longer shone as brightly as it had when his room had been with the others. But then again neither had he, Jabber mused darkly as he watched Deceit as he placed the pot on his desk, like a hound trained to sniff out the faintest hints of blood and fear. He wasnât aware of it, but his eyes were pretty damn creepy.
Deceit though, didnât comment on that, instead, he merely scooped the soup into the two bowls before he dragged the toppled chair over next to the bed. Handing the bowl to Jabber he watched the other take a bite, and he then watched as the logical side pulled his bowl away appearing to be surprised for a moment.
âIt tastes awfulâŚâ Jabber bluntly told him, but upon seeing Deceit grinning as he winced he gripped the bowl tighter before spooning in another mouthful, it was bad, but it was the only thing heâd had to eat for four days.
They lapsed back into silence for a moment longer, and after he was able to choke down the frankly awful âsoupâ he had created and set the empty bowl down. Deceit stared obviously at Jabber a moment longer, until the other had no choice to look up as he tore into one of the chunks of chicken with surprisingly sharp teeth.
âJabberâŚâ Deceit paused, they werenât there yet but he had to know, what had made the logical side like this? What had broken him in such a way?
âWhat happened to you? Why are you here? I mean you obviously donât belong here with the rest of us, so-â Before he could so much as finish that sentence, Jabberâs bowl was thrown to the side with a loud clatter, spilling the remainder of the noodles on his sheets as he stumbled up to his feet.
Jabber harshly inhales, a sting glanced deep inside of him at those words and before he knew it, he was shoving Deceit. The other toppled out of his chair, but that wasnât stopping him as he shoved and shoved again, he was taking things too far now but he had already initiated it by pushing the deceitful side. So he had no choice but to continue.
Before either of them knew it, Deceit had been once again shoved out of Jabberâs room and the door had once again been slammed shut in his face. With the only difference being that Deceit had an inkling of an idea as to what had set Jabber off before, or at the very least, what had made him fall all the way down here.
He had some theorizing to do.
Notes:Â
In case Deceit isnât lying enough for you, it's kind of my personal theory that in the dark commons he can be free, to tell the truth as he wishes. As there he isn't bound to the light's way of thinking and doing things.
