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

[ he takes another step closer to her—close enough to nearly bump into her, only a couple of inches between them, forcefully grabbing her attention away the thoughts no doubt running away with themselves in her head and onto him instead. he inclines his head low to look into her eyes. ]

It is not madness, lady Vanessa. You fear his rejection of you.

[ While rarely one to back away from any approach, even she needs to resist the urge to step back at the sudden proximity, more surprised than intimidated. She has no choice but to look up to retain any politeness, although this sort of closeness has exceeded what could be considered 'polite' space. She doesn't mind, even dropping her hand to settle against his shoulder.

His gaze should be something easy to become lost in, but Vanessa feels soothed to the point that any further rambling slows. The concerns are still there, but if she's able to see Morpheus through them, then they aren't able to overtake her.

She need barely whisper. ]

And only then would he leave.

[ Which now leaves her to wonder what actually happened after she was brought here...or perhaps she needn't wonder at all. Perhaps it's clear as day. Had he already left? Brought here after a departure? Then she truly would rather never ask. ]

Edited (whoops that was the first draft) 2023-09-19 00:46 (UTC)

I find that unlikely, if you consider him a friend.

[ said just as softly as she was with how close they are. but the proximity met his purpose, to distract her from thoughts of madness, to ground her in this moment. the impression of twin stars in his eyes is more apparent like this without actually being visible, but still somehow muted by the humane color of pale blue that he wears on his form. ]

But you must ask him the truth of your separation, of what transpired. Like any other nightmare that you must face to confront your fears and become the master of them.

[ She wouldn't know what it is to master her nightmares, though she had assuredly been on her way to do just that before being kidnapped to this city. Lucifer may not be here, but there are more unknowns than ever. Those nightmares reign, and among them—the greatest of all—is rejection. It's something she is used to, even from friends, especially from family. They loved her, of course they did, but only so long as she was never completely herself. Such friendship is conditional, and it is a tight-rope walk between the life of a monster and that of a demon.

Unlikely, he says. Does Morpheus think friendship should be unconditional? It should be; love should be boundless. Vanessa can only know her love for others as thus—incomplete until the ugliness is embraced with the beauty. She has never known it in return, but it is usually enough to experience it for others. Sometimes, though, the memory of loneliness overcomes, and like now it's all she can remember. She is alone with the other Ethan, with her nightmares and the evil inside.

She is slow to respond for knowing the reality of her friendships and herself, yet glad for his comfort, for the beauty in his gaze reminding her in that echo of hope she used to have. And yet, hope can hurt, too much to live on by itself.

With a trembling sigh, she slowly lowers her gaze and leans forward to rest her head against his shoulder, gripping gently at the lapel and shoulder of his dark coat. Facing away so that she can look to one of the more familiar headstones, Vanessa struggles to keep her eyes dry.

Though she speaks as if in request, in truth the smallness of her voice is a question—no, a plea. ]

Hold me.

[ he remains still for a moment longer, two moments, as if he were considering the wisdom of such an act with a woman he's only met a total of four times. his movements, when they do come, are slow, allowing her the freedom to pull back at any time she wishes.

his arms wrap around her lightly, carefully, as if she were made of glass, though the embrace itself feels a little stiff and stilted, his posture still upright. held at bay even in the intimate closeness. one of his hands settles at her mid-back, his palm noticeably cool even in the cool morning and through the layers of her clothes. the other hand also rests on her shoulder, cupping the back of it so that she might step closer to him and be supported. sheltered. ]

[ Vanessa is hardly one to be tallying the number of meetings as her cause for caring, but for all her posturing, she is a creature motivated by her heart. The value of the connections are what pull her closer, and so few beings in her short life have emboldened her the way he has. His hesitation makes her tense, wondering if she's overstepped, but the shadow of movement is then relief enough for her to close her eyes. By the time his arms have settled so lightly around her, her breathing has settled.

Silently, she steps closer while keeping a gentle hold on his coat, and the tension in her shoulders has somewhat eased while she leans without concern. Where he may be cool, Vanessa runs hot, with an erratic pulse that is slowly evening out.

This will likely end at any moment, but for now, the chill of his embrace is a singular comfort she won't soon forget. ]

[ when he heart begins to slow, she'll feel the very gentle motion of his thumb against her shoulder, rubbing slowly back and forth to soothe her. it's an incredibly small gesture to what anyone else could do while holding her, but it is a gesture of comfort nonetheless. ]

[ The 'small' gesture felt is enough for her grip on his coat to tighten with a surprised twitch. The motion draws her own movement, just enough so she can wrap her arms the rest of the way around him and draw both hands to clutch behind his shoulders.

Still turned away, her voice falls softer than earlier. Less ragged. ]

You know so many stories and dreams and worlds. Do you have favorites? Are they all equal in your eyes?

[ the embrace shifts as she does, the hand on her shoulder sliding to her back between her shoulder blades, is thumb still rubbing slowly there. his other hand now rests delicately on her waist, and his chin tips slightly down so that he can answer her quietly. ]

Could you so easily choose a part of yourself? I am of all stories and dreams as mortals are of breath and life and unconscious thought. I have visited all worlds and will visit those worlds created in the future.

[ The soothing touches feel as though they cool her blood with every little shift, and when her eyes drift back open to stare off into nothing, it's with a heavy-lidded haze. ]

You consider them all to be an equal part of you?

[ Of course she had come to think of him ruling over dreams, managing them somehow, embodying them in a certain way, but not as wholly as he has now described. It's a fascinating consideration, and something that makes her smile to herself. It's bittersweet, though, perhaps a grimace, and fortunately something that's only able to be viewed by the crumbling headstones and twisted trees.

No matter what he says, Vanessa is sure that if given the choice, she could—would do away with the evil inside of her. After all she's done and is prophesied to do, how could she not? ]

Even the nightmares?

I am the King of Dreams and Nightmares, the personification of the concept of dreams.

[ he says it softly as of not wishing to disturb the quiet of the early morning around them, and it's also said with such casual confidence as to be talking about a fact somehow known by all; a foregone conclusion, inarguable. ]

I was there when the first living thing awoke to life, and I will fulfill my function as such until the universe ends and all life has disappeared from the cosmos.

[ ‘The first living thing.’ it sets a tremor within her just as much as the mentioning of the end of days, though it isn’t felt with the same dread. Instead it's like listening to something familiar, but long forgotten.

Her fingers press behind his shoulders, clutching more tightly now while her words fall muffled against his coat. ]

What if you couldn’t control your nightmares? What if they were why everything ended? Would you still be able to accept them as part of you?

[ she's facing away from him while looking towards the trees, but she'll feel the slight movement from him, the way he turns his head and dips his chin down to turn his gaze down on her. ]

A dream may just as easily bring an end to the universe. My ... inaction at the time let it run rampant.

[ there's a graveness to his tone there, a hinting at something he's not saying and all but confirmed when his thumb stops its movement against her back in that small pause. it resumes just a moment later though, his voice evening out again. ]

But I accepted it, both the dream as well as my own actions, because how could I do otherwise?

[ At the time?

Slowly, one hands slips around to press against his chest so that she can lean back just enough to look to him again—to see if any more answers can be found in those starry eyes of his. He is something greater than human, and he may see things in ways she can't understand, but she still can't imagine he would ever want everything to end. He's nothing like those who creatures who hunt her. How can he accept it?

How can she admit to the fleeting moment where she had nearly done the same? ]

What happened? After you accepted it?

[ Obviously everything didn't end, or he wouldn't be here. ]

[ he meets her eyes when she pulls back to look in his. ]

I took action.

What does that mean? Took action by doing what?

[ She's been running from and fighting herself for so long, no shortage of action taken, but she doesn't know how to rightly act when accepting it. Not completely. He can't tell her what to do, but this is the closest she has ever come to being able to seek such advice. ]

By taking steps to prevent the end of the universe. It took nearly everything I am to accomplish it.

[ There's a slight narrowing to her eyes, frustration breaking through. Not so much at him—though his opaque statements aren't enough of an answer—but for how impossible it actually is. For her, at least. ]

And yet you accepted that part of yourself? How could you do both? You must have let something of yourself go. Tell me true. How could I do anything of the sort without losing everything I am?

[ he meets her frustration as evenly as he has met everything else of hers this morning. ]

I let an entire universe go. I accepted the dreams of others into myself.

[ At times, she can’t tell if he speaks literally or figuratively. It must be how others feel when attempting to get information out of her. ]

There is only one universe that I can call home—the most I will ever have.

[ And even then, she will always be caught between worlds. It isn't a real home, but she's greedy for it nonetheless. ]

To let it go would mean losing everything.

[ he seems almost amused by her words despite the seriousness in which she says it. ]

That is usually the case for most beings.

[ In such proximity, it's impossible not to notice such a thing, and her own touch goes cold before she pulls away and steps back. With her hand back over her temple, Vanessa turns back to the way they came with a slow step. ]

I am not most beings. This is no game.

[ his hold on her is easy to break, easy to pull back from him since he has no inclination to hold her against her will. his arms fall back to his sides gracefully, but he doesn't move after her in case that was a full rejection. ]

No. It is not. It was not my intent to imply otherwise.

[ Despite her sudden retreat, it’s more from her own whimsy than from his comfort. She doesn’t move beyond the first step unless he makes a movement to join her, and her hand drops back to her side when she glances with a weary smile. ]

I have been burdening you with too much as it is, and I should not press so much upon you. One can only wonder what troubles still weigh upon your shoulders, even after what you have achieved.

[ Though it must have cost him much to accomplish whatever it is he barely speaks of, something of him still stands. Enough to mean something.

What would be left of her? Who else has already predicted the answer? ]

You requested my presence, lady Vanessa. I am not one to answer summons as a steward would.

[ his tone is a little more stern here, only hinting at something like annoyance without crossing over the line into it. were she continue to withdraw as she is and blame it on courtesy for him, he might become annoyed. he doesn't move to rejoin her by her side just yet either, her turned back still leaving the possibility of rejection still there. but neither is he making a move to leave. ]

What burden may reach us here, where we have been pulled away from such burdens awaiting us? To not speak of them only ensures their power over you.

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