The story of my life.
OOC: Reposted from theatrical_muse from 9/11/2005, 33 of 50.
Talk about a time you realized that someone close to you was not the person you thought you knew.
This only has to happen oh, about several dozen times or so, before you start to expect it. *Nobody* I know is who I think they are, and why should they be? I'm not who they think I am either. And if I really knew them all that well, they would bore me to tears, so it's just as well. But there have been some times that stand out particularly in my mind.
I had a good friend, see. A pal. A mentor. A guy who had more or less elected himself my "older brother" (technically, he is indeed older than me, but what's twenty million years give or take?), who'd been, millennia ago, my partner in crime. And who more or less decided that he was going to join forces with Society. (Which, frighteningly enough, means he did the same thing I've recently done, only earlier than me, which means we are more alike than I ever admitted. That's a trifle disturbing.)
It was something of a blow to lose him to the forces of respectability, of course, but hey, I've never needed a sidekick to have a good time. And I thought that of all my people, he was the one who best understood me, the most sympathetic to me, the guy who I could turn to when the rest of the Continuum was acting as if I were a strange and inferior alien life form.
Then he got me kicked out of the Continuum.
See, I knew something was being plotted behind my back. And I knew he was involved. But I figured, he's my buddy. My big brother. He has my back. So when they told me I was being exiled to mere mortality, I figured that at the very least he'd stood up for me. I knew I was alone and the Continuum had ruled against me, but at least I believed I still had friends in high places.
Then he told me he was the guy who got me kicked out in the first place.
He gave me my powers back shortly after that. And I know, it was a last-minute intervention to try to save my life, because people in the Continuum who really, truly did *not* understand me, or want to, were maneuvering to have me killed if I wouldn't toe the line. And I know, he meant well. And I know, when the chips are down and it's *not* because he's manipulating me, that I can trust him. And he fought by my side in the war.
But, you know, I've never really considered him all that close a friend ever since.
And then there's my ex. Who, I always knew, was more staid and more "respectable" and less willing to push the boundaries than I was. But she had her own wildness to her, she had the things she'd push her luck with, she had things she liked to do that no one else (including, I admit, me) understood, and we had that in common. I thought I knew that deep down, she was like me.
And, okay, I admit: I could have been the first one to walk out. I have been, many times. (Newsflash: no such thing as eternal love. The best you get is, after you've been broken up for a hundred thousand years you decide to get back together.) And I admit, I have not always been the most responsible of entities. But part of the reason I dislike being worshipped is that I don't like having anyone depend on me, because I feel horrible if I let people who depend on me down. Better not to be trusted in the first place than to betray a trust. And she did that.
She walked out, not on me-- I can handle that-- but on our son.
I never saw that coming. And I'll never forgive it, either.
Talk about a time you realized that someone close to you was not the person you thought you knew.
This only has to happen oh, about several dozen times or so, before you start to expect it. *Nobody* I know is who I think they are, and why should they be? I'm not who they think I am either. And if I really knew them all that well, they would bore me to tears, so it's just as well. But there have been some times that stand out particularly in my mind.
I had a good friend, see. A pal. A mentor. A guy who had more or less elected himself my "older brother" (technically, he is indeed older than me, but what's twenty million years give or take?), who'd been, millennia ago, my partner in crime. And who more or less decided that he was going to join forces with Society. (Which, frighteningly enough, means he did the same thing I've recently done, only earlier than me, which means we are more alike than I ever admitted. That's a trifle disturbing.)
It was something of a blow to lose him to the forces of respectability, of course, but hey, I've never needed a sidekick to have a good time. And I thought that of all my people, he was the one who best understood me, the most sympathetic to me, the guy who I could turn to when the rest of the Continuum was acting as if I were a strange and inferior alien life form.
Then he got me kicked out of the Continuum.
See, I knew something was being plotted behind my back. And I knew he was involved. But I figured, he's my buddy. My big brother. He has my back. So when they told me I was being exiled to mere mortality, I figured that at the very least he'd stood up for me. I knew I was alone and the Continuum had ruled against me, but at least I believed I still had friends in high places.
Then he told me he was the guy who got me kicked out in the first place.
He gave me my powers back shortly after that. And I know, it was a last-minute intervention to try to save my life, because people in the Continuum who really, truly did *not* understand me, or want to, were maneuvering to have me killed if I wouldn't toe the line. And I know, he meant well. And I know, when the chips are down and it's *not* because he's manipulating me, that I can trust him. And he fought by my side in the war.
But, you know, I've never really considered him all that close a friend ever since.
And then there's my ex. Who, I always knew, was more staid and more "respectable" and less willing to push the boundaries than I was. But she had her own wildness to her, she had the things she'd push her luck with, she had things she liked to do that no one else (including, I admit, me) understood, and we had that in common. I thought I knew that deep down, she was like me.
And, okay, I admit: I could have been the first one to walk out. I have been, many times. (Newsflash: no such thing as eternal love. The best you get is, after you've been broken up for a hundred thousand years you decide to get back together.) And I admit, I have not always been the most responsible of entities. But part of the reason I dislike being worshipped is that I don't like having anyone depend on me, because I feel horrible if I let people who depend on me down. Better not to be trusted in the first place than to betray a trust. And she did that.
She walked out, not on me-- I can handle that-- but on our son.
I never saw that coming. And I'll never forgive it, either.