12 // dream
Effects: Happiness, familiarity, nostalgia, and coldness in the end.
Warnings: Slight spoilers for Pandora Hearts.
Notes: Interactive dream! Feel free to walk through the end of it or wait until she's woken up.
Yuletide at the Nightray house had never been a huge affair. The family rarely had visitors and never expected gifts from outside of the house. The traitorous duke house could expect nothing less with the reputation that they all held.
All the same, the lady of the house still made sure that the halls were decorated and the snacks at teatime were all well in season. Tonight, Vanessa's dream begins with one of those scenes, nearly five years in the past now. The image is fuzzy and bland, a half-memory distorted by time. She doesn't remember the color of the wooden doors, or what shade of red the couch once was. But her family's faces are all crystal clear. Her mother's weathered face as she smiles and calmly sips her tea from a chair near the fireplace. Ernest's angry expression as he hisses something to his older brother Claude and gestures towards the back of one of the maids. Fred is standing near the window, speaking calmly to their uncle, but both of their faces are turned away and completely unreadable, though their body language is at least relaxed as they watch the snowfall.Vincent is also standing near them, quietly running a hand through his hair as he watches the room, but his older brother is noticeably absent.
And above it all, a melody plays. Her youngest brother Elliot is playing the piano for the family, his fingers moving easily across the keys as the slow, but relaxing song continues. And there's a slightly younger Vanessa watching curiously over his shoulder, hands folded politely behind her back as she studies the sheet music. She frowns as he plays a more difficult measure, smiles when he doesn't miss a single note.
When the song finally ends, everyone in the room cuts off their individual conversations or actions and claps. Ernest whistles loudly and their mother comments on how talented he's become. Vanessa lays a hand on his shoulder and mumbles teasingly, just low enough for him to hear, "It's better than last year's song, at least."
The dream fades then, and the warm but shadowed memory is gone. It's replaced with the same room, undecorated this time, and cold despite the same fire in the fireplace. The snow is still falling outside of the window. There are only two figures in the room this time; an older Vanessa and her mother. They sit across from each other, a plate of holiday cookies on the table between them. They both hold their own cup of tea, but neither has bothered to taste it at all.
Family gatherings are only for show now. There's no cheerful discussion, no calming music, nothing to compliment or smile over. The only colorful thing in the room is a vase of marigolds to speak for the grief that they refuse to acknowledge out loud.
"Won't you try one, mother?" Vanessa finally says, gesturing towards the plate. "They're...they're better than last year's."
"It's snowing again," Vernice answers, refusing to look her daughter in the eye. "This storm feels like it's never going to end."
It's all that's said before her dream opens and invites its watchers inward, if they dare.
Warnings: Slight spoilers for Pandora Hearts.
Notes: Interactive dream! Feel free to walk through the end of it or wait until she's woken up.
Yuletide at the Nightray house had never been a huge affair. The family rarely had visitors and never expected gifts from outside of the house. The traitorous duke house could expect nothing less with the reputation that they all held.
All the same, the lady of the house still made sure that the halls were decorated and the snacks at teatime were all well in season. Tonight, Vanessa's dream begins with one of those scenes, nearly five years in the past now. The image is fuzzy and bland, a half-memory distorted by time. She doesn't remember the color of the wooden doors, or what shade of red the couch once was. But her family's faces are all crystal clear. Her mother's weathered face as she smiles and calmly sips her tea from a chair near the fireplace. Ernest's angry expression as he hisses something to his older brother Claude and gestures towards the back of one of the maids. Fred is standing near the window, speaking calmly to their uncle, but both of their faces are turned away and completely unreadable, though their body language is at least relaxed as they watch the snowfall.Vincent is also standing near them, quietly running a hand through his hair as he watches the room, but his older brother is noticeably absent.
And above it all, a melody plays. Her youngest brother Elliot is playing the piano for the family, his fingers moving easily across the keys as the slow, but relaxing song continues. And there's a slightly younger Vanessa watching curiously over his shoulder, hands folded politely behind her back as she studies the sheet music. She frowns as he plays a more difficult measure, smiles when he doesn't miss a single note.
When the song finally ends, everyone in the room cuts off their individual conversations or actions and claps. Ernest whistles loudly and their mother comments on how talented he's become. Vanessa lays a hand on his shoulder and mumbles teasingly, just low enough for him to hear, "It's better than last year's song, at least."
The dream fades then, and the warm but shadowed memory is gone. It's replaced with the same room, undecorated this time, and cold despite the same fire in the fireplace. The snow is still falling outside of the window. There are only two figures in the room this time; an older Vanessa and her mother. They sit across from each other, a plate of holiday cookies on the table between them. They both hold their own cup of tea, but neither has bothered to taste it at all.
Family gatherings are only for show now. There's no cheerful discussion, no calming music, nothing to compliment or smile over. The only colorful thing in the room is a vase of marigolds to speak for the grief that they refuse to acknowledge out loud.
"Won't you try one, mother?" Vanessa finally says, gesturing towards the plate. "They're...they're better than last year's."
"It's snowing again," Vernice answers, refusing to look her daughter in the eye. "This storm feels like it's never going to end."
It's all that's said before her dream opens and invites its watchers inward, if they dare.