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 Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 6:55 pm
 Li'tae belongs to Loki Saimar.
Do not post in this journal without Loki's permission.
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Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 6:57 pm
Rules
oo1. Do not post in this journal without my permission.
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Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 6:58 pm
Relations of Adalia
Name: Fiach
Relationship: Older Brother
Thoughts on Fiach: I love him, but he keeps everything inside. It...scares me that he bottles everything up until it finally explodes. I worry about what he might do if he doesn't learn to trust someone. Anyone. Going through life by yourself isn't easy and it isn't fun - no one should have to, especially not my brother. I just wish he would realize I'm right here. And I'm not going away.
Name: Sionce
Relationship: Fiach's best friend
Thoughts on Sionce: He's seriously afraid of women and I wonder why. He hides behind a mask, to hide his own feelings and like Fiach, he refuses to trust and open up. I worry about him, too, and wish he'd stop hiding from his past long enough to realize he has two people who are standing at his side. Willing to share in his pain.
Name: Dean
Relationship: Acquaintance
Thoughts on Dean: He's cute, funny, and sweet. A bit awkward around me, but then, most people are. It was a lot of fun to talk to him there at the park, he gave me his cell phone number, and asked me over to his house for dinner some time. I haven't told Fiach about him yet, I'm worried big brother will scare him off before I have a chance to really get to know him. I can't wait until I see him again.
Name: KX
Relationship: Just met
Thoughts on KX: Interaction is ongoing, thoughts coming soon.
Relations of Li'tae
Name: Adalia
Relationship: My human
Thoughts on Adalia: She's quirky, goofy, a big gossip, and a whole lot of fun. Adalia helps me annoy both her brother and Sionce, so we make a great match. I just wish she'd buckle down a little bit more when the time calls for it and not do a total 180 and start ignoring the people who were upsetting her. Sometimes, she goes a little too far with her opinions.
Name: Trisste
Relationship: Best friend...and something more, I think.
Thoughts no Trisste: He can be cool and calm on the outside, but inside he's about as twitchy as Sionce. He's a good friend, though, and is always by my side when I need him. I...think I would die for him. He means a lot to me.
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Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 6:59 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 7:10 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 7:10 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 7:11 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 7:13 pm
Credits
Fiach, Li'tae, and Adalia are creations of Loki Saimar's mind.
Sionce and Trisste are creations of Rown's mind.
The templates, certs, original concept, and lines for the .NET Hackers' pets are done by Tooaya.
.NET Hackers belongs to Loki Saimar, with much help from Rown.
Thanks to Anya for the idea of B/C journals.
Graphics in this layout were designed by ` Akilah, paid for by Loki.
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Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 7:14 pm
A reserved post, just in case.
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Posted: Sat Nov 24, 2007 2:06 pm
The Letter from Fiach
Sometimes at night I would dream of a smiling face, watching over me as I splashed through puddles and played in the mud. I never imagined that the kind face with the brilliant blue eyes actually belonged to a real person. I always assumed it was me just wishing I had an older brother, someone to fill the void I'd always felt in my life. Like there was supposed to be someone there, keeping an eye out for me, and there wasn't. My father used to brush away my questions, getting gruff and unpleasant, when I asked him about my mother. Asked if I'd ever had a sibling, why he and my mother had gotten divorced.
Then one day a letter came in the mail from some teenager named Fiach. It was eloquently written, though I felt it glossed over a lot of things. The letter detailed that this boy had come back from Ireland and was hoping to reconnect with his lost father and sister. He didn't explain why he'd come over alone, without mother, just that he was going to pursue music and computer, that he was living with a wonderful old man.
I was so excited when we got the letter! It showed I'd been right, I had had an older brother. There was someone to look up to. But my father's hands shook in anger as he read the letter and he threw it away. He said he wanted nothing to do with "that boy" and that I was to have nothing to do with him either. "Music is a waste of time", he said, and that there were things hidden in Fiach's letter that showed he wasn't worth our time or our trust.
Then we got the news that father had cancer, it was in its last stages - and he would die soon. As he grew weak, I took on the burden of caring for him. When he woke up late at night with feverish dreams from the chemo, I would comfort him and soothe his fears. Often he spoke of the son he'd left behind. The one he had failed. One night, he begged me to bring him pen and paper as well as some of the trinkets of his childhood, that he had gotten from his father. I did, and left him alone in the room as he wrote. In a voice that said he'd been crying, father asked me to return to his room. With shaking hands, he placed the letter in a box with the trinkets, and handed them to me. Making me swear that if he should prove unable to do so, that I would hand deliver the contents to Fiach.
We made plans, but didn't write to Fiach. Father didn't want him to be disappointed if one of us showed up alone - or to cause his son concern about his health. Within days, my father passed away and I prepared to take the trip alone. I didn't know what to expect, just that I was homeless and had a job to do.
In his letter Fiach had discussed wanting to reconnect with the family, and so it was with little trepidation and considerable determination that I decided I would make him let me move in with him. It didn't sound as if it would be difficult to persuade him, judging by how fervently he'd stressed connecting again. As I arrived at the place he lived, though, I realized it wasn't the time to deliver the letter. He was moving into his own home that very day.
I was right, though, it didn't take much for him to agree to let me move in with him. Once we got settled, I caught him up on everything I'd been up to. I assumed that sharing my past would convince him to share his, the things he'd hidden in the letter, those he'd not even begun to hint at...but he didn't. Instead, Fiach grew distant, refusing to discuss even the smallest of details about what hadn't been explained in his letter.
Disappointed, I retired to my bedroom. Determined to break through to him the next day, with the box my father had given me to deliver.
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Posted: Sat Nov 24, 2007 2:09 pm
The Box & An Unpleasant Discovery
The day after we had made our big move, I took Fiach aside. Holding father's cherished box of mementos in my hands, I gave him the note my father had given me. It was one he claimed his father had written to him when he was dying, and not the one father had tried to write that night. He had given up, unable to say what he wanted.
As I watched Fiach read and re-read the note, tears began to cascade from his eyes. Though I wanted to hug him and hold him, I knew he would need space. Sons do not grieve their father's deaths with ease. When I returned after he had calmed down, I handed him the small box of mementos and told him why we hadn't responded to the letter.
Together, we cried and grieved. For the lost time together, for our father's death. I fell asleep thinking I had gotten through to Fiach that we were family, and he could talk to me. When I woke up the next morning, I was laying in bed, smiling I realized Fiach had carried me to bed. Just the sort of thing a big brother would do for his baby sister.
Pleased, I went to breakfast. Only to find a stone faced Fiach, unwilling to move on his refusal to speak of his past. No matter what I said or did. It got to be too much for me, and I avoided him. Thinking that maybe if I ignored him, he'd come to me instead. Unfortunately, that idea didn't work out. If anything, it strengthened the barriers between us.
One night, after finishing getting ready for a date, I went down through the kitchen to get a glass of water. To my surprise, I caught Fiach rummaging through the fridge - and not with his usual up-kept appearance. He was shirtless, and I was surprised to find that the nerdy brother I had thought I had was actually in impressive shape. As I caught sight of his wrists, unhidden by his usual attire, I noticed the sheen of white scars.
I think he noticed me then, because he straightened up with a look of shock, anger, and hurt. I couldn't help myself, and ran to him to wrap him in a hug. Even when he tried to pry me off, I refused to let go. I wanted him to know I cared about him and he never had to try that again. That he could tell me why he'd done it. Fiach looked away from me.
I can't stand it when people turn away from me when they need to talk. So I got angry and probably said something I shouldn't have. The look of horror on his face only fueled my anger, though, and I'll never forget it.
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Posted: Sat Nov 24, 2007 2:40 pm
The Mistake and the Journal
I have to admit - the boy I was dating was a bit of a pothead. I didn't really care, as long as he didn't do it around me. It is his choice, after all. And it was only his mind he was damaging. Well, that is...until the day he gave me a pipe and some weed as a present. He told me that I had told him to be more open about himself, and to share who he was with me. That pot was a part of who he was. My own words had trapped me, and I accepted the presents. I didn't actually smoke - he was high and didn't notice my lack of lighting up. I did; however, forget to take the pipe out of my pockets when I got home.
Throwing my clothes on the floor as per my usual, I threw the weed out, and went for my shower. I didn't really expect for Fiach to be in one of his cleaning manics, so I took my time. After hanging out with Brian and getting a pipe for a present, I'd dumped him - but I felt dirty with the idea of him thinking he could trick me into smoking like that. It upset me a lot, and I was in the shower a lot longer than normal.
When I got out and discovered that my clothes weren't on the floor...I panicked. I couldn't remember if I'd emptied them of everything, and didn't want Fiach to get the wrong idea. When I got downstairs, Fiach went ballistic. He lectured me nonstop and didn't even give me the opportunity to put my own side of the story in. By the end of it, I didn't even feel like telling him that I hadn't smoked and had already thrown the stuff away. I merely snatched the pipe out of his hands and tossed it out.
It made me wonder, though - why did he flip out like that? Was he once a drug addict? Was he still one if he'd tried it before? Had our mother been? Or was he just scared of me getting hooked and doing something stupid?
I don't really know why, but even after that debacle, I continued to confide in my brother. I think I hoped he'd stop hiding behind the wall he'd so carefully built and be the big brother. He never did man up to it, though. Just held me while I cried, refused to answer my questions about if he'd ever felt that way or not. It became harder and harder for me to confide in him, until finally...I just couldn't handle it anymore.
I let the wall grow between us, as I tried to coerce Fiach into telling me the truth. I didn't know what else to do as he got further away from me. The day I found his journal...I opened it. I wanted to know the truth, who my brother was, why he acted how he did. Unfortunately, my stupid brother came running into his room before I could even get started.
Fiach...scares me. He screamed at the top of his lungs at me, until all I wanted to do was shrink into the wall and disappear. He's a lot bigger than I am, and how his eyes catch on fire when he's mad...its alarming. He seems like such a sweet guy, but once his temper is lit...he's gone. Its no longer the Fiach I love, but someone else in his place.
Who is my big brother? Why won't he stop hiding and let me see him?
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Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2007 7:15 pm
Trip to the Fair
I was really shocked the day Fiach invited me to work with him at .NET Hackers. Even though I had Li'tae, I didn't really expect Fiach to ever admit that he needed help. Or that I could even possibly help him. When he told me, I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and hug him until he made me let go. But...I didn't. I was afraid that hugging him might scare him. To me, it was like he'd finally opened a door to who he was - and I didn't want it to slam shut in my face before I even got my foot in.
It was disappointing that Fiach spent most of his time at the shop, or when I was there - at home. Even with that, though, I still got to take part in his life. So it was enough for me, for the time. I still wish he hadn't just run off as soon as I walked in, but I can't really complain. It was time with my big brother I wouldn't have had otherwise, and I cherished it. Though I imagine Fiach will think I'm silly and childish for thinking that.
The day Fiach invited me to the fair - and seemed genuinely eager to go - I wanted to cry. I was just...so happy! We could finally do something most siblings do, and Fiach seemed to want to go, which was a first. Usually it was as if I had to coerce him into everything. When we got there, Fiach paid for everything and went where ever I wanted to go. Even though we looked silly, I made him take me on every ride and play ever game in the boardwalk. I'm sure its not something he tells people about - since he kept blushing and looking embarrassed. But he did everything with me and was rather good natured about it.
At one of the games, he won two plushies and gave them to me. I was so happy I forgot that I didn't want to scare him away, and threw my arms around him and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. Even though the lady at the booth thought it was cute my brother had won me some toys, he acted like it was the most awkward thing in the world. I keep those two plushies with me all the time now, because they're symbols of my brother's love. They remind me that no matter what, somewhere under everything, he does love me and he does care.
Maybe someday he won't be so afraid to show it.
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Posted: Sat Dec 01, 2007 2:29 am
Big Brother's Mistake
One day while I was lounging about at home, curled up on my bed in my pajamas, Li'tae appeared on my computer screen. I ignored him at first, thinking he was just around to be aggravating, but he started to beep the computer at me in that annoying habit they all seem to develop to tell us to pay attention. Grumbling as I stood up, I walked over to the desk and flounced into my chair, glowering at him as I wondered why he'd interrupted my lazy moment.
With a gleeful grin, he told me that my brother had told him why he never spoke to me about the past. Curious, and a little hurt, I asked him to tell me what Fiach had said. He gloated about it for a while, before finally telling me that Fiach said he didn't want to scare me away. That it was as simple as that. He could not and would not tell me his past, because he thought I would be scared away from his side forever.
What does he take me for? I'm not weak or stupid. I took care of our father while he lay on his death bed, for crying out loud! Yet Fiach felt he had to protect me from his past? From himself?!
I was angry with him. I still am. How could he not trust me enough to listen to the truth and still love him? He's my brother. Nothing he does will ever make me stop loving him. I wonder...what happened to make my brother so unwilling to trust? Why is he so scared of the truth - what did he do that was so terrible, he can't even tell me? Why does he make me watch him torture himself over the past - something that is over and done with?
When he got home that night, I greeted him with fury. I yelled and lectured until my throat grew sore and my voice became hoarse. I just...don't understand how he could be so afraid to live that he tries to hide from himself. He has people who love him, why couldn't he see that? Even though I spoke from the heart and swore I would never leave...my brother still looked away from me.
It was killing me inside and without even meaning to, I started to cry. I wanted him to open up to me. To be honest. To just look at me.
I don't really know what went through his mind when he looked into my eyes, just that I suddenly got scared and the tears streamed down his face. As I stared at him, I wondered how long he had held it in, how long he had refused to cry. I know that he wanted me to leave, thinking that by crying he was being weak or a bad big brother, but...I couldn't. I had sworn to never leave him, so what sort of sister would that have made me had I walked out the door?
When my brother collapsed to his knees, I couldn't take just watching him silently anymore. I held him as he cried, silently willing him to understand that he didn't have to hurt alone. I was too scared to speak to him and I doubt he'd have listened had I tried.
That night, my brother gave me a scare. As he stood and walked away, I remembered the scars on his wrists. I prayed that he wouldn't try it again, and actually breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that he was packing to move to the shop.
It hurts so much that my brother doesn't trust me enough to open up. That he had to move away to protect himself.
I wish he trusted me. I wish he understood I won't leave. Not ever.
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Posted: Mon Dec 03, 2007 12:52 am
Grief
I had just wanted to do Fiach a favor. Tidy up the house a bit...well. My portion of the house. Get the mail. Have everything ready for him. But the letter from Ireland was too tempting and I just had to open it. I know you're not supposed to open other people's mail...but my curiosity overtook my better judgment in this case. I thought that maybe, just maybe, our mom was writing to us. That I might get to finally see her, after so long.
But as I read the letter I realized...I would never have the opportunity to see my mother again. The letter explained there had been an accident, the other driver had been drinking and had hit her head on. She had died at the scene of the wreck and all attempts at resuscitation had failed. There were no details on her injuries, just simply that she had passed.
Maybe I'm just too sensitive, but the news of her passing left me feeling hollow and sick. I had wanted to travel to Ireland to see her, with Fiach, to show that our family could be whole again. Unwilling to go to work in such a mood, I called Fiach to tell him I wouldn't be coming in and let him know there was a letter at home for him. I didn't really expect for him to come running home as quickly as he did. Though, I have to admit...I was really happy when he showed up. I was afraid of how he would take the news, thinking that maybe he and mom had been really close.
I expected that his mask would break, and that he would cry real tears over mom's death. But his real reaction worried me - not only did he not cry...I'm not even entirely sure he cared. I wonder what sort of relationship they had, that would make him feel so indifferent to her death? I lost my temper when he didn't react, and I really wish I hadn't. I had no right to beat on him like that, or to yell at him to feel grief over her death. For all I know, he might have just wanted to grieve in private.
He held me as I grieved for the woman I'd never really met, but he seemed so...awkward and cold about it, I finally had to walk away. I felt terrible for losing control like I had, and thinking that he was just trying to be "strong" for me, I left. His attempts at consoling me nearly broke my heart, I should have been the one helping him. He was the one who had known mom for so many years, he was the one who should have broke down.
I wish I hadn't run away from him like I did. I worry that in doing so, I proved his point, that everyone will leave when he needs them most. Half of me wishes he really didn't care, so that my running away wouldn't have a profound effect on our relationship...and the other half wishes that he had cared about our mother's death.
I've never seen someone respond with such a cold attitude about death like that...especially not over a family member's death! I wish I knew what had happened to him, to make him like he is...
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