[ His tension is distracting, though not against his favor. It only renews her vigor for her cause. The people trapped here do not belong here, no matter their sins. Whatever was done to him has left such a mark that he may never be free of it. Not alone. Vanessa is sorry she hasn't the time to try and help him.
Asking him to relax is not going to help anything, to be sure. Nobody can relax once the matter is addressed. It must be forgotten entirely.
Everything else must fall away, as things tend to when Vanessa captures someone's gaze well enough. Her pale eyes do not flinch, with an endless blue for drowning in. Here, the rasp of her voice falls low, husky and soft at such a level; like burnt velvet. ]
Look into my eyes.
[ The urge to reach out and take his hands is powerful, as doing this can be just as mesmerizing to her as it can be to others. The difference is, she remains the one in control. ]
Listen to my voice.
[ There are no other sounds. There are no sounds of birdsong, after all. No bustling crowds rushing the sidewalks. No neighbors shouting through the walls. There is nothing else except for her voice, and the flutter of their breathing. She keeps her breaths slow, guiding his along should he begin to settle.
The suggestions are repeated in a hypnotizing rhythm once again; twice. Look into my eyes. Listen to my voice. Her voice nears a whisper while she stares into eyes so beautifully red, and Vanessa wonders if any other color exists in the memories behind them. ]
the psychic part won't work but the gentle compulsion can for a short time (only if you want it to)
Asking him to relax is not going to help anything, to be sure. Nobody can relax once the matter is addressed. It must be forgotten entirely.
Everything else must fall away, as things tend to when Vanessa captures someone's gaze well enough. Her pale eyes do not flinch, with an endless blue for drowning in. Here, the rasp of her voice falls low, husky and soft at such a level; like burnt velvet. ]
Look into my eyes.
[ The urge to reach out and take his hands is powerful, as doing this can be just as mesmerizing to her as it can be to others. The difference is, she remains the one in control. ]
Listen to my voice.
[ There are no other sounds. There are no sounds of birdsong, after all. No bustling crowds rushing the sidewalks. No neighbors shouting through the walls. There is nothing else except for her voice, and the flutter of their breathing. She keeps her breaths slow, guiding his along should he begin to settle.
The suggestions are repeated in a hypnotizing rhythm once again; twice. Look into my eyes. Listen to my voice. Her voice nears a whisper while she stares into eyes so beautifully red, and Vanessa wonders if any other color exists in the memories behind them. ]
Let me in. Show me.