Chapter Text
Bitter, that was what the feeling was.
Deceit did not intend to take it to heart, really, but it was frustrating. Appealing to logic, rationality, and morals—all of it had been for nothing. Playing by their rules had failed him more times than he could count on his two hands. And some.
He tried, he really did, to tell them they needed him. But, no, they knew better than to trust a snake who only knew how lie. Oh, he showed them. Setting Remus free, after years of keeping his existence a secret from the Sides, proved that they needed him more than they thought they did.
And yet, they were as stubborn as ever. The nerve of them, after all he had done for them, to be hesitant to accept him, still. It was expected—they feared what they didn't fully understand and what they didn't want to fully understand. But he knew that once one of them accepted him, the rest would follow. The question was who. After that, the question was how.
Logan would be the easiest to sway, if he was presented with a reasonable enough argument. Unfortunately, it was difficult for Logan to see him eye to eye; Logan's appreciation for rules conflicted with Deceit's disregard for them. Patton would be easy to influence, but what hindered him was his empathy towards others. That wasn't a bad thing, necessarily, but it limited him far too much for Deceit's tastes. And Virgil, well, even if he tried, Virgil would flat out refuse to listen to him.
That left Roman, which was actually Deceit's personal favorite out of all the Sides. Now, Roman wasn't exactly impressionable, but he shared views close to Deceit's own, which, if Deceit played his cards right, made it simple for him to manipulate him. Yes, Deceit certainly loved Roman.
From now on, Deceit was going to play by his own rules.