dreamcrystals | dream: i need the rest of me

Sender: Vanitas
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording | CW: choking, vomiting, drowning

It all starts at a Heart Station. Or, rather, what should be one. What should be a great structure rising from the very darkness itself, covered in stained glass is... Blank. There's nothing. No colors. No shapes or depictions of things that the heart would hold dear. Instead it's all broken. A web of shattered glass that is beyond repair - though it most certainly looks like someone has tried. Great fissures mar the surface while large pieces seem to be broken away or even missing. A coupled even seem to be floating above the station proper.

Most would be bright and shimmering to some degree, but this one doesn't. Whatever light had once been has faded. Stare long enough and there are flickers, as if there would be a short in the wiring, if this place had anything like electricity flowing through it.

At the center, of course, stands Vanitas. Whether or not this is a true depiction of his heart doesn't matter. This is how he views it. How he sees it. Longing. Anguish. Pain. So much pain. Hate. Hate hate hate.

Whole... I want to be whole. I need it. I need my -

Light. There it is. A soft ball of warmth coming from above. He looks up, of course. Because it's right there and within reach. When Vanitas moves, it's jumping from broken piece to broken piece and ready with his hand out to obtain what he desires most. What will make him complete. Whole.

Almost -

Monster

A pause. Frozen. Something like ice begins to move through his veins. No. Not here. Not now. The shadows around the Station seem to shift. Take the form of red, glowing eyes watching his every move. He knows this feeling. Knows this emotion. Terror. It's bubbling in his chest. Gipping it like a vice. Vision spins as Vanitas missteps and falls. Crashes against the glass. Tight too tight. Air. No air. Can't breathe. Terror. Horror. Fear. Anxiety. Everything hitting hard. Fast. Too much at once. Spinning. Spinning. Dizzy. Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Can't hold it in. Can't contain it. They're going to come out. They're going to break free. Then it will start all over again. And break free they do with Vanitas on his knees. Coughing and hacking. Covering his mouth because he needs to keep it all in. Emotions can't be allowed to break free of him again. Yet out it comes, Vanitas heaving and a black substance like tar splatters against the glass. Rolls down his face. And again. And again. Over and over, fire taking the place of ice. The glowing red stares all the more intense as they take shape and form. Unversed. Hundreds of them. All his own emotions grabbing and reaching.

Pulling. Tugging. Dragging further and further away from that Light. Not until they swallow Vanitas up completely. His lung burn. Fear. Terror. Pain. It's an endless cycle that he can't break free of. For the more intensely he feels those emotions, the more that he chokes and more spawn. What good did it to? To keep trying? This is the result. This is always the result. To live and to suffer. To strive and to always have it out of reach? To have hope. All of these thoughts cycle, out of control. Emotions spiraling until it's thing but a sea of black and those faces staring at him. Limbs growing tired and weak. Everything is fading. No Light. No Darkness. Just-

"V a n i t a s!"

Nothing.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[So... they're a physical manifestation of his inner conflict. Though Ferran doesn't get that the creatures themselves might be a problem, if they're unpleasant for Vanitas to create, then... yeah, obviously it would be something he'd want to stop.

Ferran looks down at the black marks on his own wrists, pondering for a few moments, and he realizes the idea of them being something to solve hadn't even occurred to him before. That's pretty sad, isn't it? That he'd just accept the pain that came along with them.]

So... what, because you were made of darkness to begin with, the light you've made on your own since then doesn't count?

The repairing of my heart had been done through the bonds that I had. Those bonds had started to fill in the cracks and holes in my own heart. Without them, I am at a standstill. To be honest, I don't even know what the state of my heart had been before coming here. So I have no way to compare it.

[ In the end, it's an "all or nothing" sort of thing for Vanitas. Either his heart is repaired and light given to fix the fissures or it's nothing at all... ]

[Bonds... bonds. The word means something more than just a relationship or a connection, doesn't it? The haziness of that definition isn't going to clear up just yet, but one thing is clear:]

That's fucking stupid.

[How is that fair? What gets to define Vanitas's heart other than the young man himself? What gives it the right? But even the emergence of Ferran's old righteous frustration can't erase the knowledge and experience that nothing in life is fair.

His grip tightens around the mug in his hands.]

[ Vanitas laughs upon hearing that. Granted, he has no idea if he's actually talked to Ferran about any of this in length. He's pretty sure he hasn't. Not like this. The boy definitely doesn't shy away from the topic of his fractured and broken state... But usually he acts defiant and belligerent about it instead. This... This is a little more raw than that. ]

Yes, it is. By all accounts, I shouldn't even have existed. Yet I was born and my existence continues by another's hand. I don't even have the energy to be infuriated by it right now. For the longest time, I just wanted the worlds to break and shatter because of it.

[ He still does, some days. Thinks that people don't deserve the life that they have been given. ]

Try not to break that cup though. It's not worth your anger either.

[Ferran lets out a shaky breath, only a small amount of tension leaving his shoulders. His knuckles aren't white around the thing, at least.]

Luckily for your mug... my temper's not usually that bad. But I'm allowed to be angry that you haven't gotten the chance to just... live, as you. Without this kind of mess.

[Nothing Vanitas can say would make Ferran stop hating the kind of suffering he's had to go through just because something decided to conjure him up out of darkness and the universe started throwing him around. Even if they've never discussed the details of what exactly was going on, it was clear to Ferran that he was trying to make a life for himself when he didn't have one before.]

... I guess... all there is to do is make the most of everything you have.

[ And that's something Vanitas is still getting used to. Still learning how to deal with... People caring. Getting angry and upset on his behalf. ]

On the bright side, I'm not entirely lecturing you or questioning why you would. I get that much. It still surprises me that people who never really knew me would care but here we are.

[ But that's what happens. That's what happens when someone actually tries to live a life. Tries to figure this stuff out, right? ]

That's not enough. I don't want to make the most of what I have. I want what I deserve to have.

[ And there it is. Enough to show that he's still a gremlin. ]

[Ferran turns his eyes to Vanitas, considering. He doesn't know how long his friend can sustain that struggle, if this sort of defiance is just an unchangeable part of his nature. It's not that he can or even would judge the guy for it; he certainly has a right to those feelings, at the very least. It's just so hard for Ferran to think along those lines anymore, to even try to relate to wanting more when he's so convinced it would only lead to disappointment.

But... he'll never ask anyone else to want less than what they deserve.]

Then I'll hope that you get it. And that you'll stop being surprised, eventually.

[ How long can Vanitas maintain that all or nothing attitude? Quite a while, it would seem. It's been a thing for years. Again, he would rather not exist entirely than to have half measures. That's just who he is. ]

Is it really all that bad to keep being surprised? Or is this one of those things that just should be the standard? I never can tell with people when they say things like that.

[ Which means that he can at least acknowledge that some of his paradigms are wrong. That how he views the world may not be right. ]

[Ferran lets out a slow breath. It's a little encouraging, at least, to see that Vanitas is questioning these things sincerely. He'll try to respond in kind.]

Maybe it's not the worst thing in the world, but... it's reasonable to expect that other people want nice things for you, whether they know you or not.

[Weirdly enough, despite what he's been through, he's still an optimist when it comes to the nature of people in general. Maybe that's part of why he's so determined to stick around for Vanitas, too.]

Why... They don't know me. They don't owe me anything and I don't owe them anything?

[ Therein lies the issue. Vanitas can't understand it if someone or something isn't related to him directly. That's the unfortunate thing about kindness and never really being received any...]

Most people don't need a reason. Even if they might not always step forward to help... the thought is there. It's nice seeing other people happy.

[It's certainly part of what motivates Ferran. But even if he might be on the far end of wanting happiness for others, especially compared to Vanitas, he knows he's not the only one who feels that way.]

It's not about owing anyone anything.

I suppose I'm just not ready to fully understand that one.

[ But he might. In time. Or he might not. Vanitas could go either way. But at the end of the day, not everyone matters to him. Not everyone will. So maybe it isn't really all that important to him to completely understand why people would seek the happiness of strangers.

Just him. ]

dream: i need the rest of me

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject