Log: Not Like You (Forge)

[x-forge.livejournal.com]

After getting the news from Remy, Forge meditates on the work he and Charlie had done, and makes a decision



Tapping silently on his keyboard, Forge cracked his neck from side to side, finishing the consolidation job on his files. Organization was important, neat and clean and sorted. The thought was almost absurd, with the complete chaos of everything else in his life, that the only way he could get any semblance of control was to line up little graphic representations of data on his computer screen.

His eyes kept flicking to the last email from Charlie, still open on his screen, dated only four days prior.

I'm telling you, the reduction won't work once you pass 

the tri-umbral threshold. You're completely discounting 

Mordo's theory on recursive forces, just because it doesn't 

fit in with that wave pattern theory you're pushing. Wave 

theory works on paper, but I think you'd have figured out by 

now that magic doesn't always match up to what your 

projections and papers say it should. Try and see if you can't find a way to keep 

the reduction stable using a non-recursive 

form.

Just the standard thaumaturgical gibberish. It had irked him - it still irked him that Charlie had a better grasp on the theory than he did. All the magical ability of a teapot, Amanda had said. Just a normal kid.

A normal kid who wanted so much to be a part of a world that he couldn't take part in, just because of who he was. Forge had always felt that bit of a connection with Charlie Plunder, beyond their mutual intellectual interests. The knowledge that no matter how much they would study or learn or achieve, they were always going to be kept on the outside.

"I understood, you stupid son of a bitch," Forge whispered under his breath, fingers shaking above the keys. "You could have said something. I understood. I was just like you."

The thought gave Forge pause, accompanied by an odd twinge of pain from his mechanical limbs. Stress feedback, the occasional jolt that reminded him of his mistakes, that he'd never be 'normal', never fit in.

"I was just like you," he repeated, laying his hands flat against the desk and closing his eyes.

Just like you.

Not anymore.

Forge opened his eyes, fingers deftly dancing over the keys.

Del /grimoire/*.*

Del /email/archive/Cplunder

Del /research/spells/*.*

Confirm delete of *244* files? [Y/N]

"I'm not like you," Forge whispered, as he confirmed the delete.