september catch-all { fabric of shame and sorrow's name

[matermali]

WHO: Vanessa Ives (matermali) & Others
WHAT: Friends, food, and fortune.
WHERE: Around town.
WHEN: September
WARNINGS: Cannabis use, blood magic.

( ooc; HMU with a PM or at cherto if you’d like a starter. Vanessa can get up to all sorts of trouble, or maybe even try to help someone out of it. I'll also be throwing her at the meeting log asap.

You may want to check her permissions for possible content warnings and an opt-out. )

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[matermali]

[ Again, she could almost smile. ]

I have already found some while in your company, Lord Morpheus.

[hypnagothic]

[ if he's pleased, or even displeased, at hearing her say that, Dream gives no indication, continuing to speak in that slow but meaningful drawl of his. ]

But not from your friend?

[matermali]

[ She glances up to the sight of the sky over the distant building tops, waiting for it to begin to lighten. It will be awhile yet. As if disappointed, Vanessa is quick to look back down, chin dropping low with her gaze. ]

I have always felt safe with him. I do still, but there has been the occasional moment, to blink and miss, when he has looked at me as though he sees someone else.

[ It's something so subtle that she can only wonder if she is going mad. ]

And in that fleeting moment, as I look back...so do I.

[ Nothing is more terrifying than that. ]

[hypnagothic]

[ Dream stares forward as they walk, only occasionally glancing to her. ]

And who is it that you see, in these moments?

[matermali]

[ She shakes her head, to herself more than anyone. What she sees is something she can't recognize. ]

A stranger.

[hypnagothic]

[ he lets that answer hanging in the air between them for a number of steps before speaking again, the incoming dawn making their path through the graveyard a little more visible ahead of them. ]

As you said, lady Vanessa, we all have our secrets. But there is something you are not saying.

[matermali]

[ That is...an understatement. She would accuse him of knowing far more about her than she does about him, but she was the one to even bring this up. There's little reason to be overly difficult on the matter, given what he has already witnessed, but it has been something she wanted so very much to keep separate from her time with him.

Impossible, as everything else is. ]

I suppose I would not know where to even begin, were I to say anything else.

[hypnagothic]

It is your choice to speak more or not, as it is also your choice to speak with me about it or with another. But as with all stories, I would suggest to begin at the beginning.

[matermali]

Hmm!

[ Now that does make her chuckle with her sigh, though it leaves more of a grimace than a smile. The beginning, which beginning? With Ethan, with Sir Malcolm, with her mother? With Satan? ]

You know not what you suggest. And I would... [ A little crinkle to her brow. ] I would not want you to look at me and see someone different.

[hypnagothic]

I, of all beings, know what it is to suggest thus. A story can have infinite beginnings and infinite endings. It is up to the one telling it to decide where they wish to begin or end their tale in order to convey their desired story.

[ he slows his pace now, coming to a stop only after several more steps. he waits for her to do the same, for her to turn her gaze to him before he goes on. ]

I see you, Vanessa Ives. Another telling will not change the whole of the story that is your life. It will only make it more complete to my eyes.

[matermali]

Do you?

[ Halted now, she'll keep her hands clasped and hold a subtle squint to her gaze—not accusatory, but searching. For all that he is a fantastical being, a god or something more, she is still left wondering on what he doesn't know about. Of course he doesn't know all about her life, that isn't expected. So how can he see her?

Not unless he gazed into her eyes and saw the thing that drips venom into her skull—slowly, slowly, there's time yet to completion. And if he could see her demons, then how could he bear to keep looking?

He can't. No one can. Not even Ethan. Anything less and they can't see her at all. Isn't that the point? ]

What do you see?

[hypnagothic]

[ he meets her gaze steadily. his blue eyes look human in the dim but brightening light of the dawn, but she still can get the impression of stars shining there. ]

I see a woman who, at this moment, is in need of courage.

[matermali]

[ Courage, yes, and she has gained a little, but for what? Where will more carry her when the path has been dashed? Who will be waiting there? Not God, not anymore.

While it does garner a stare of consideration, she does not lose herself, instead her gaze narrowing slightly once more. Silent for a bit; studying. When she speaks again, her voice has dropped to scrape lower. Still curious. ]

Is that all, Morpheus?

[hypnagothic]

A woman with a complicated and painful past and unknown future ahead of her.

[ he dips his chin, the angle of his head tipping just so towards her. ]

The rest is for you to tell, lady Vanessa.

[matermali]

[ Something about that does make her smile in a dark humor, though it's for a jest only she knows. ]

You have just described every woman with a broken heart.

[ It is apt. It is not enough. It's small, too small for what she contains. ]

There is a story about a woman like no other, whose heart broke like no other. Some called her a goddess. [ She was more than that; something known without being known. Something that came before knowing. ] I think her heart is still breaking from the loneliness, you see, but her story is the only one that can never be told.

[ Her finger curl, hands clasped tightly together. ]

You said that you knew her.

[hypnagothic]

[ his chin raises at that; a proud stance, one that looks completely natural for him. ]

Amunet.

[matermali]

[ The name seizes something in her. Her jaw is tight.

She doesn't like to say it, and yet she should. Names are power, and she has let it have power over her. ]

You ask for the beginning. I keep hearing so many pieces of her tale and yet there is only ever one ending. The way the story is told should suggest it as her resurrection, but...then there is nothing. She awakens. Then nothing. As though she opens her eyes only for long enough to see the final trace of light lose itself to darkness.

[ Her knuckles are tight. ]

Everything ends.

[ A prophecy is rarely a sweet story. ]

All light would end and the world would live in darkness. The Hidden Ones would emerge and rule. Have you heard that ending?

[hypnagothic]

... A prophecy. One that I have not heard in my world.

[matermali]

[ She had dreaded that he'd heard it, as though that might finalize it, and yet for him to not makes it somehow worse. There is nothing more he can tell her, no way to help her understand.

Finally, she looks away, down, and her fingers uncurl. They fan among the folds of her skirt, but they don't ease. There is a tremble from the strain of her stance. ]

It is a prophecy about me.

[hypnagothic]

You believe you are Amunet ... reincarnated?

[ there's a lightness to his tone as he said it, understanding of their previous conversation finally dawning. ]

[matermali]

It's what I have been told. I don't know what I believe...of her, of her prophecy.

[ She does know what she believes, though she can't yet fully accept it, because one knowing cancels out the other. All she can accept is that she is something terrible, and as far as she's concerned, that something is named Vanessa Ives. ]

I know that I am Vanessa Ives, and yet I am...something else. I know what I have dreamt.

[hypnagothic]

You are still you, lady. Whether or not you were something else in another life.

[ he takes a step closer to her, two. ]

What has this to do with your Ethan Chandler?

[matermali]

[ She'll look up to that, as though she must be indignant at the suggestion she could be anyone else anyway, but he means it as honestly as anyone can. Her sigh is soft, silent, and she smiles with a sadness while her voice grates miserably through her words. ]

I know what I am. It is something he's unable to accept, he has said so himself. No one can. No one should.

[ She couldn't blame Ethan, not when he can't even accept the truth of himself, not when she is so much worse. He still cares in his own way, and she loves him for that. None of her friends can truly accept this thing, and nor should they. She will love them all the more for their good will. ]

Shortly before I was brought here, Mr. Chandler... He witnessed me for what I was, and I knew everything was forever changed. He looked to me differently, but even then, it didn't frighten me. His anger, his disgust, I could understand, I could accept, because he was still...with me.

[ His rejection of her darkness still comes with his own form of love, even his reverence at times. Yet, even telling herself that, her chin trembles. She can expect nothing better for herself. ]

But in these moments here where time skipped, I looked and he was no longer there, and I could not bear the loneliness of it.

[hypnagothic]

You say that he is unable to accept you ... and yet you still call him a friend. That he welcomed you upon his arrival here.

Perhaps not everything has changed, as you had thought.

[matermali]

Everything doesn't need to. Only one glance, such a small thing, and yet so much in its singular power.

[ The huff of a laugh is strained, and she slowly shakes her head while looking off to the side. ]

I will always call him my friend, even if he should hate me. My dear friends will always welcome me, I believe—the me that they are willing to accept. And then there will always be another part of me...begrudged the warmth of their embrace. It will never be welcome.

[ How can they be any other way? ]

I know, yes, I know... I must be going mad. It is this place. [ She reaches to press the heel of her palm to her temple. ] I don't know how to...explain why this is different. I only know that for the first time since I have known him, I was afraid to look into the eyes of Ethan Chandler.