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Felixir · 01-31-2021, 05:43 AM

Speaking of rotten brains running rampant.

Nem had suddenly found themselves a little uncomfortable with this avenue of discussion, and it was particularly irksome that they had been the one to lead them both down it, with every intention of getting to this point. They supposed they had always known that nobody but Nemesis Upstead was worthy of being Nemesis Upstead's undoing. Not that this was anything close to that.

All in all, this was entirely too inconvenient. Nem's devious little brain was stalking down lines of thought they had not yet considered worth their time - had not even known existed - and it was, for the record, all Grantham's fault. Also disorienting. Nem could not recall a time before today (read: it simply had not happened) in which they had been in a situation where they hadn't immediately known what to do.

Disgusting.

Whatever.

They made a snap decision and, after a couple of moments of burdensome silence, turned to look at Grantham once more. "I'm taking that as a compliment, just so you know." The diricawl thing. But anyway. "Do you know the feeling where, when you don't talk about stuff for so long, by the time you have the chance, it's like... physically impossible? And even if you could find some words, they'd be all wrong?" Or was Grantham the type to carry things around with her only up until the point that she reached breaking point, and it all came rushing out? Nem supposed a person could be both. It was news to them that they were either. Actually, it was news to them that this even existed. "What I mean is, I don't think I know how to just talk about myself like that, even I wanted to."

Even as they said the words, a flash of ire born from the audacity of truth burned through them; it flared, simmered, died away. Dead. Empty.

"You start, with something about you. I can follow."

01-31-2021, 05:43 AM	#19 (permalink)
Felixir Forum Manager Book Club Mod Alley Proprietor Banshee Join Date: Dec 2008 Location: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Posts: 50,163 Hogwarts RPG Name: Charlie Upstead Gryffindor Fifth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Aurelio Kaiser Slytherin Third Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Alexei Petrov Slytherin First Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Yves Flamel Slytherin Sixth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Achilles Zacharias Ravenclaw Third Year Diagon Alley Proprietor: Ezekiel Ransom-Kruus Ollivanders x12 x12	fun fact, all these years i have been saying it like 'diricrawl' Lovely™ \| Captain Hurted \| Ariana's Bane \| Resident Antagonist \| Unparalleled Delight Speaking of rotten brains running rampant. Nem had suddenly found themselves a little uncomfortable with this avenue of discussion, and it was particularly irksome that they had been the one to lead them both down it, with every intention of getting to this point. They supposed they had always known that nobody but Nemesis Upstead was worthy of being Nemesis Upstead's undoing. Not that this was anything close to that. All in all, this was entirely too inconvenient. Nem's devious little brain was stalking down lines of thought they had not yet considered worth their time - had not even known existed - and it was, for the record, all Grantham's fault. Also disorienting. Nem could not recall a time before today (read: it simply had not happened) in which they had been in a situation where they hadn't immediately known what to do. Disgusting. Whatever. They made a snap decision and, after a couple of moments of burdensome silence, turned to look at Grantham once more. "I'm taking that as a compliment, just so you know." The diricawl thing. But anyway. "Do you know the feeling where, when you don't talk about stuff for so long, by the time you have the chance, it's like... physically impossible? And even if you could find some words, they'd be all wrong?" Or was Grantham the type to carry things around with her only up until the point that she reached breaking point, and it all came rushing out? Nem supposed a person could be both. It was news to them that they were either. Actually, it was news to them that this even existed. *"What I mean is, I don't think I know how to just talk* about myself like that, even I wanted to." Even as they said the words, a flash of ire born from the audacity of truth burned through them; it flared, simmered, died away. Dead. Empty. "You start, with something about you. I can follow." __________________ Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Chocolate**!