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[For Klaus and Five]
Dec. 18th, 2020 01:20 pmThe evening was new when Vanya popped up in Allison's living room. They talked for hours, the Hargreeves Sisters. What Vanya would have given to have felt this before. They almost got there, before a psychotic man blew her psyche wide open. It's difficult to think about, but what she got out of it was forgiveness that she doesn't deserve and never had to ask for. She has a sister that isn't afraid to care for her - that isn't afraid of anything. What she wouldn't give to have gotten to this place sooner (and with less complications).
It's well into the night when Allison gets up to sleep. Vanya knows she has an apartment, but the thought of sleeping there alone makes her skin crawl. Before she could ask to stay - and she might not have even been able to bring herself to - Allison had all but tucked her in on her couch, complete with blanket and gentle smile. Vanya can't thank her enough.
This new affection is a lot for a girl bodily suppressed for 29 years, and on top of that, The City. Even though it has a name, Vanya's not ready to use it. That makes it real. When she thinks about it too long, it feels like the Academy: a home she never wanted. A locked basement door where no one outside can hear you scream.
Suddenly, she's on her feet, like the sounds of the settling building and the rustling of the blankets as she shifts is tuning into her. It's that feeling, the one that she used to think she needed pills for. She's kind of pacing for a second. She doesn't want to leave Allison, she doesn't want to go outside, and she doesn't want to stay put to find out what happens if she can't control the way the rustle of the trees outside is tapping in time with her heartbeat. She doesn't want to be alone. She can't ask any more of Allison when she's done so much. Panic is setting in, feeding on the sound of itself. Fuck. No.
It's Ben's voice that cuts through. It's not real, so there's nothing to resonate. Just his gentle voice in her head: you aren't alone at the table anymore, Vanya.
Quietly as she can, Vanya creeps out, but not before leaving a note on a piece of paper, right next to Allison's little portable phone. Wild.
Went upstairs.
See you tomorrow.
Thank you so much.
Love,
Vanya
Vanya takes the stairs, her heart thumping through her feet instead of in her ears. Panic is becoming something else. Maybe there will always be a fear that she doesn't fit in right, but she is trying to listen to the soundless things: like her siblings climbing into Sissy's car just to help her. Like being smothered between Klaus and Allison in the salon. Like watching Five eat his first Fluffernutter sandwich back at the Academy.
Now that she's at the door to #53, she flexes her hands for a second. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she she knocks softly. Maybe too softly. If they're asleep they may not hear. After about another 30 seconds, she knocks again, a bit louder. Her heart's kicked up. She's suddenly so excited to see her brothers.
It's well into the night when Allison gets up to sleep. Vanya knows she has an apartment, but the thought of sleeping there alone makes her skin crawl. Before she could ask to stay - and she might not have even been able to bring herself to - Allison had all but tucked her in on her couch, complete with blanket and gentle smile. Vanya can't thank her enough.
This new affection is a lot for a girl bodily suppressed for 29 years, and on top of that, The City. Even though it has a name, Vanya's not ready to use it. That makes it real. When she thinks about it too long, it feels like the Academy: a home she never wanted. A locked basement door where no one outside can hear you scream.
Suddenly, she's on her feet, like the sounds of the settling building and the rustling of the blankets as she shifts is tuning into her. It's that feeling, the one that she used to think she needed pills for. She's kind of pacing for a second. She doesn't want to leave Allison, she doesn't want to go outside, and she doesn't want to stay put to find out what happens if she can't control the way the rustle of the trees outside is tapping in time with her heartbeat. She doesn't want to be alone. She can't ask any more of Allison when she's done so much. Panic is setting in, feeding on the sound of itself. Fuck. No.
It's Ben's voice that cuts through. It's not real, so there's nothing to resonate. Just his gentle voice in her head: you aren't alone at the table anymore, Vanya.
Quietly as she can, Vanya creeps out, but not before leaving a note on a piece of paper, right next to Allison's little portable phone. Wild.
Went upstairs.
See you tomorrow.
Thank you so much.
Love,
Vanya
Vanya takes the stairs, her heart thumping through her feet instead of in her ears. Panic is becoming something else. Maybe there will always be a fear that she doesn't fit in right, but she is trying to listen to the soundless things: like her siblings climbing into Sissy's car just to help her. Like being smothered between Klaus and Allison in the salon. Like watching Five eat his first Fluffernutter sandwich back at the Academy.
Now that she's at the door to #53, she flexes her hands for a second. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she she knocks softly. Maybe too softly. If they're asleep they may not hear. After about another 30 seconds, she knocks again, a bit louder. Her heart's kicked up. She's suddenly so excited to see her brothers.
[Entry Post - For Allison]
Dec. 13th, 2020 07:51 pmIt's not cold anymore.
Vanya was standing between her brother and sister, gripping Klaus' hand on the right and Allison's on the left. The briefcase made a noise that Vanya could feel in her teeth, sent light up into the sky that surely could be seen for miles. Her eyes followed up after it, each of the Hargreeves children glowing blue in its brilliance. She thought maybe she should close her eyes, but she didn't. The time for shielding herself from brilliant light was over.
The sound of her siblings' breathing isn't there anymore. She's not moved, not even blinked, and she's in a living room, hands out as if holding on, but they are empty. Her gloves and her hair are no longer damp from the snow. She can't smell the grass and manure that marked the last month of her life adrift. Now, she closes her eyes and focuses hard on the sound, so hard that her skin pales and her irises go white. There's no wind in the trees. No wildlife crunching through the grass. No whirl of mills and symphony of crickets. Just the sound of a tap running and the creaky normalcy of an old building.
Her eyes open and the white of her irises flood brown-hazel again; her skin regains its pigment, but she is no warmer. There is movement in this apartment, but Vanya hasn't moved a muscle in several moments, except to look around her and hope that one or all of her siblings pop up later. Time travel is not an exact science, she thinks, but they travelled by briefcase - wasn't that supposed to be a more trustworthy method? Maybe it's supposed to be, but are there consequences for travelling with a sound-fed anomaly unable to keep herself from ending the world twice?
"Hello?" She calls softly, hunched a bit, hands out at her sides in a passive surrender.
Vanya was standing between her brother and sister, gripping Klaus' hand on the right and Allison's on the left. The briefcase made a noise that Vanya could feel in her teeth, sent light up into the sky that surely could be seen for miles. Her eyes followed up after it, each of the Hargreeves children glowing blue in its brilliance. She thought maybe she should close her eyes, but she didn't. The time for shielding herself from brilliant light was over.
The sound of her siblings' breathing isn't there anymore. She's not moved, not even blinked, and she's in a living room, hands out as if holding on, but they are empty. Her gloves and her hair are no longer damp from the snow. She can't smell the grass and manure that marked the last month of her life adrift. Now, she closes her eyes and focuses hard on the sound, so hard that her skin pales and her irises go white. There's no wind in the trees. No wildlife crunching through the grass. No whirl of mills and symphony of crickets. Just the sound of a tap running and the creaky normalcy of an old building.
Her eyes open and the white of her irises flood brown-hazel again; her skin regains its pigment, but she is no warmer. There is movement in this apartment, but Vanya hasn't moved a muscle in several moments, except to look around her and hope that one or all of her siblings pop up later. Time travel is not an exact science, she thinks, but they travelled by briefcase - wasn't that supposed to be a more trustworthy method? Maybe it's supposed to be, but are there consequences for travelling with a sound-fed anomaly unable to keep herself from ending the world twice?
"Hello?" She calls softly, hunched a bit, hands out at her sides in a passive surrender.
