A life to dream
Sep. 12th, 2025 11:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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torchwood_fourVerso isn't sure what he expects to happen when he jumps towards the shimmering bubble that separates the Canvas from the world outside, towards the woman almost quite literally choking on her love for the man who shared his face and too much of his heart. He'll probably gommage, but that's all right. Maybe it won't happen right away, maybe it will take long enough for Maman to see, and maybe that will help her finally let him go so Renoir won't have to erase the Canvas for her own good. Then Maelle can come back to visit Esquie and Monoco and the rest, learn to wield her power in a way that lets her live.
Probably not. Probably, if his body does dissolve into rose petals, it will just drive Maman further into her grief. Her madness. But what choice does he have? If he stays here, goes back to Lumiere with the others, it will just encourage Maelle to stay and kill herself by slow, terrifying inches.
And he can't let that happen. She might not be his sister, but she's Verso's sister, and he can't….
No, he can hurt her. For her own good. To keep her safe.
If saving you means losing you, then so be it.
His father's words ring in his head, unbidden. But the man had a point in this, at least. Maelle will hate him, but she'll be alive to do it. Her and Maman, they'll both live to hate him and find their way back to each other in the process.
And if, somehow, he survives? Well, that will also encourage the two of them to stay out of Verso's Canvas, because they'll have him.
(Or they'll just realize what they've both known all along, that he's not the Verso they lost--the Verso they love--but just Maman's well-painted toy, and they'll…)
He jumps before he can follow that train of thought to its only stop, only pausing long enough to give Lune that inadequate apology before he leaps into a world he's never really known, towards the woman who didn't really give birth to him but still created him and put all this crushing, unbearable love in his chest--
And while he doesn't fall apart to flowers and dust, he doesn't find himself standing in front of Maman either. In fact, he isn't even standing in Renoir's atelier, or any other room in the manor. He's…he doesn't know where he is. Definitely not in Verso's Canvas, but if he's not there or the manor…
He looks at his own hand, expecting to see the gray wisps and white petals that will signal his impending gommage, but it's only his hand. He can barely even feel the Chroma that should be filling the air, even in Maelle's real life. What should be a symphony of magic and possibility is barely a hum, and while he may not be as adept at analysing it as Maelle and Lune he should still feel the power Maman wielded to turn grave dirt and grief into something that looked and sounded just like her son. And he's so baffled (dissapointed--he's so tired,the boneaching exhaustion somehow even deeper than it had been when he last saw his father) that he scarcely even considers that he should, perhaps, try to pull on that trickle of Chroma to at least draw his sword against…whatever might be in this unknown world. He just stands, squinting in bewilderment at...he doesn't even know. Nothing he's seeing matches anything he's seen in the Canvas or Maman's memories of Verso's life.
There was a time that would have amazed him, and he would have looked at it all the way Lune still sometimes looks at Esquie and Monoco. Instead, he just stares at his hand, as if he can will it to fall away to flowers and memory like it should have so, so long ago.
Probably not. Probably, if his body does dissolve into rose petals, it will just drive Maman further into her grief. Her madness. But what choice does he have? If he stays here, goes back to Lumiere with the others, it will just encourage Maelle to stay and kill herself by slow, terrifying inches.
And he can't let that happen. She might not be his sister, but she's Verso's sister, and he can't….
No, he can hurt her. For her own good. To keep her safe.
If saving you means losing you, then so be it.
His father's words ring in his head, unbidden. But the man had a point in this, at least. Maelle will hate him, but she'll be alive to do it. Her and Maman, they'll both live to hate him and find their way back to each other in the process.
And if, somehow, he survives? Well, that will also encourage the two of them to stay out of Verso's Canvas, because they'll have him.
(Or they'll just realize what they've both known all along, that he's not the Verso they lost--the Verso they love--but just Maman's well-painted toy, and they'll…)
He jumps before he can follow that train of thought to its only stop, only pausing long enough to give Lune that inadequate apology before he leaps into a world he's never really known, towards the woman who didn't really give birth to him but still created him and put all this crushing, unbearable love in his chest--
And while he doesn't fall apart to flowers and dust, he doesn't find himself standing in front of Maman either. In fact, he isn't even standing in Renoir's atelier, or any other room in the manor. He's…he doesn't know where he is. Definitely not in Verso's Canvas, but if he's not there or the manor…
He looks at his own hand, expecting to see the gray wisps and white petals that will signal his impending gommage, but it's only his hand. He can barely even feel the Chroma that should be filling the air, even in Maelle's real life. What should be a symphony of magic and possibility is barely a hum, and while he may not be as adept at analysing it as Maelle and Lune he should still feel the power Maman wielded to turn grave dirt and grief into something that looked and sounded just like her son. And he's so baffled (dissapointed--he's so tired,the boneaching exhaustion somehow even deeper than it had been when he last saw his father) that he scarcely even considers that he should, perhaps, try to pull on that trickle of Chroma to at least draw his sword against…whatever might be in this unknown world. He just stands, squinting in bewilderment at...he doesn't even know. Nothing he's seeing matches anything he's seen in the Canvas or Maman's memories of Verso's life.
There was a time that would have amazed him, and he would have looked at it all the way Lune still sometimes looks at Esquie and Monoco. Instead, he just stares at his hand, as if he can will it to fall away to flowers and memory like it should have so, so long ago.
