First, why in the hell is 'replaceable' spelled like that? Disgusting.
Second, don't ask where I've been. Don't ask what I've been doing. I'll take no questions and you will receive no answers. I extend you an olive branch of Logan angst and request that you look no deeper into the smoke. Rare are the good findings of those who peek behind the curtain.
~~~
Logic was. . . curious. Purely curious, was what he told himself, sitting in his room, alone, and lost to his thoughts.
Curious, because Logic was a man (personality trait, he corrected) of science and reason. He liked facts. He understood facts. He needed proof for every fact, facts for every hypothesis, and a hypothesis for any idea. It was how he lived. It was how he functioned.
So, yes. He was curious.
Not hurt, he reminded himself. Not hurt or confused or broken about- Well. Those were emotions. No facts ever came from emotions. Facts came from research, which came from curiosity.
Only curious. Nothing more, nothing less.
Curious how they weren't very upset when Deceit had forcibly silenced him. Curious how when Deceit had been discovered to be impersonating Morality, they had demanded the lovable trait back immediately, but when it was him - even after noticing right away - they had been content to allow the snake to linger for a while. Curious how they didn't mind when he was banished to the back of the courtroom for the entire trial, where he tried to bite back all of the words he so desperately wanted to add. Curious how they didn't care about how Morality's room was affecting him. Curious how they didn't come after him when they left. Curious how they fell for Deceit impersonating him again, allowed him to stay again, and didn't question if Logic was alright afterwards.
Curious, curious, curious.
Amidst the inexplicable twisting in his gut (probably just indigestion; he refused to acknowledge any other explanation), he proposed an experiment to himself. A way to. . . rectify the odd feelin- the curiosity that had taken hold of his thoughts.
Finally, he had a plan, split in stages. He would construct a hypothesis for each stage, collect data, draw a conclusion, and modify whatever he needed once the experiment was over. Nothing would go wrong.
He knew he had to plan accordingly. If he let the others in on the plan, their interference would skew his data (and he didn't want to face the possibility of them encouraging his changes), which meant his adjustments would need to be gradual, not abrupt. He had to arrange the stages carefully. He had monitor his progress thoroughly.
He felt he was ready.
(The pit in his stomach got deeper.)
~~~
Stage One: Vocals.
Question: Do I talk too much?
Research: People cut me off often, lose interest when I speak, zone out, and don't seem upset when I am forcibly silenced.
Hypothesis: People would tolerate my company more if I spoke less.
Logic mentally tallied up his words, decreasing them every day by as much as he calculated he could get away with. Essays turned to paragraphs, turned to sentences, turned to words, turned to silence. He stopped chiming in with fun facts (maybe he was the only one who considered them 'fun'), and he stopped correcting misinformation if it wasn't necessary. He didn't participate in small talk or mealtime conversations unless he was addressed. Even then, he quickly formatted his words in his head to keep it at a minimum word limit.
YOU ARE READING
Sanders Sides One Shots (Vol. 02)
FanfictionYes, it's the second installment of this nonsense. Now bringing you more angst at half the cost. Enjoy, or don't. It's just me. Your unfriendly neighborhood Angst Queen.