Ronan Lynch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
somnioergosum) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverview2017-10-11 06:32 pm
somnioergosum) wrote in riverview2017-10-11 06:32 pm
video; @r.lynch | memory share in which the dream stork pays a visit
[How this ends up on the network is anyone’s guess. Ronan’s habit of sleeping with his headphones in, listening to music on his phone probably plays a part. In any case, the memory broadcasts itself. It is lovely and pure and one of Ronan's most closely guarded secrets. Any other memory would be better.
At first the memory is vague. A very young Ronan, around three years of age, walks through a home. He presses his hand to one of the walls and as he drags his fingers along, the home loses its ambiguity. The painting on the walls has flecks. A few warps appear in the wood beneath his feet. The dream becomes reality in his mind.
He steps into an empty room, save for the crib in the middle. His parents stand beside it. As a toddler, Ronan is mostly unrecognizable. His smile is innocent, his hair curly and cheeks chubby. He moves with relaxed exuberance. He doesn’t look like his mother, but the similarity to his father is striking. If you a grown Ronan stood beside him, the resemblance would be striking, uncanny, or eerie depending on how you viewed it.
But this Ronan is just a chil. He reaches the crib and stands up on his tip toes.
“Do you want to see?” his father asks in Latin.
Ronan lifts his arms and his father scoops him up into his arms. Niall Lynch lifts his son up to look down at the baby resting in the crib. His mother’s hands move into sight. As she smooths the infant’s hair, it shifts from the indistinct, unnoticed color only a dream holds into the same light blond as his mother’s.
“Would you like to hold him?” His mother also speaks in Latin.
The dream shifts immediately. Ronan sits cross legged on the floor. The baby is in his arms. Carefully, he presses his fingers to the boy’s forehead. The longer Ronan stares, the more the child changes. Now real and heavy, Ronan has to lay the baby on the floor. Still he stares and reality replaces the ambiguity of the dream. Still, something of the dream remains, but that was good. That was what the child needed.
Ronan wakes with the baby resting on his chest. Frozen in place, the baby thanks him by screaming in his face for a minute. After a minute, Ronan’s finger twitches. He sits up and places the baby onto the bed. Folding his arms over his chest, he does what toddlers do best. He pouts.
“Inside voice!” Ronan speaks in English, but being a toddler, it’s difficult to decipher. “Inside!”
The baby stops, looks at him curiously, then grabs his feet and giggles.
Ronan smiles. All is forgiven.
The door opens and his father flips the lightswitch. Ronan smiles at his parents. His mother’s hands go to her mouth.
Ronan points at the dream “His name is Matthew and he’s my baby brother.” ‘Matthew’ came out more like “Mafew” but Ronan beams.
Aurora lowers her hands. “Oh, Ronan. I don’t believe this!” His mother races forward and takes the baby into her arms. “Niall! He looks like me!”
Matthew actually looks more like a younger Ronan and a much younger Niall, but Aurora’s apparently appeased by the hair alone.
A boy about a year older than Ronan stumbles into the room. Aside from height, there’s little to distinguish Declan from his brother. He tugs on his father’s pants. “Why’s there a baby?”
“He's Matthew and he’s my favoritest brother!” Ronan insists. “And he won’t steal my legos.”
Declan turns from tired to angry at the accusation. “You stole a baby!”
Ronan thrusts his chin up, puffs up his chest, and says “I dreamed him!”
His father rubs his chin and shakes his head but there’s no mistaking his crooked smile. Ignoring Declan’s hand pulling on his pants, he looks at Ronan, eyes full of pride, wonder, and all the mysteries that made Niall Lynch. When Ronan looks back at him, he grins at his father’s approval.
Niall laughed and walks over to his son. He scoops him up into his arms and kisses his cheek. “Ronan.”
Declan stands alone for a moment until Aurora notices his lonely, hurt gaze and calls him over to properly introduce the brothers.
The memory ends with Ronan smiling as his father laughs. He doesn’t know why his father is so proud, but he basks in it.]
At first the memory is vague. A very young Ronan, around three years of age, walks through a home. He presses his hand to one of the walls and as he drags his fingers along, the home loses its ambiguity. The painting on the walls has flecks. A few warps appear in the wood beneath his feet. The dream becomes reality in his mind.
He steps into an empty room, save for the crib in the middle. His parents stand beside it. As a toddler, Ronan is mostly unrecognizable. His smile is innocent, his hair curly and cheeks chubby. He moves with relaxed exuberance. He doesn’t look like his mother, but the similarity to his father is striking. If you a grown Ronan stood beside him, the resemblance would be striking, uncanny, or eerie depending on how you viewed it.
But this Ronan is just a chil. He reaches the crib and stands up on his tip toes.
“Do you want to see?” his father asks in Latin.
Ronan lifts his arms and his father scoops him up into his arms. Niall Lynch lifts his son up to look down at the baby resting in the crib. His mother’s hands move into sight. As she smooths the infant’s hair, it shifts from the indistinct, unnoticed color only a dream holds into the same light blond as his mother’s.
“Would you like to hold him?” His mother also speaks in Latin.
The dream shifts immediately. Ronan sits cross legged on the floor. The baby is in his arms. Carefully, he presses his fingers to the boy’s forehead. The longer Ronan stares, the more the child changes. Now real and heavy, Ronan has to lay the baby on the floor. Still he stares and reality replaces the ambiguity of the dream. Still, something of the dream remains, but that was good. That was what the child needed.
Ronan wakes with the baby resting on his chest. Frozen in place, the baby thanks him by screaming in his face for a minute. After a minute, Ronan’s finger twitches. He sits up and places the baby onto the bed. Folding his arms over his chest, he does what toddlers do best. He pouts.
“Inside voice!” Ronan speaks in English, but being a toddler, it’s difficult to decipher. “Inside!”
The baby stops, looks at him curiously, then grabs his feet and giggles.
Ronan smiles. All is forgiven.
The door opens and his father flips the lightswitch. Ronan smiles at his parents. His mother’s hands go to her mouth.
Ronan points at the dream “His name is Matthew and he’s my baby brother.” ‘Matthew’ came out more like “Mafew” but Ronan beams.
Aurora lowers her hands. “Oh, Ronan. I don’t believe this!” His mother races forward and takes the baby into her arms. “Niall! He looks like me!”
Matthew actually looks more like a younger Ronan and a much younger Niall, but Aurora’s apparently appeased by the hair alone.
A boy about a year older than Ronan stumbles into the room. Aside from height, there’s little to distinguish Declan from his brother. He tugs on his father’s pants. “Why’s there a baby?”
“He's Matthew and he’s my favoritest brother!” Ronan insists. “And he won’t steal my legos.”
Declan turns from tired to angry at the accusation. “You stole a baby!”
Ronan thrusts his chin up, puffs up his chest, and says “I dreamed him!”
His father rubs his chin and shakes his head but there’s no mistaking his crooked smile. Ignoring Declan’s hand pulling on his pants, he looks at Ronan, eyes full of pride, wonder, and all the mysteries that made Niall Lynch. When Ronan looks back at him, he grins at his father’s approval.
Niall laughed and walks over to his son. He scoops him up into his arms and kisses his cheek. “Ronan.”
Declan stands alone for a moment until Aurora notices his lonely, hurt gaze and calls him over to properly introduce the brothers.
The memory ends with Ronan smiling as his father laughs. He doesn’t know why his father is so proud, but he basks in it.]
no subject
[Who would not be jealous of a bird named Chainsaw? Everyone knows that's a brilliant name. He's going to focus on that and not panic. Focus, Ronan.]
Yeah, of course he does.
no subject
there an anecdote behind that name or was it a 'why not' situation?
[ Maybe ravens are birds that like mimicking sounds and this one loves making chainsaw noises, he isn't an ornithologist, he doesn't know! ]
not an of course to me
i've met people who kept their powers secret from everybody, boyfriends included
and people who told some folks but not the person they were dating because they wanted to protect them
no subject
[It was also a why not scenario, but Ronan isn't going to admit that. He's just as bad at nicknaming the animals at his job.
He does feel awkward at the mention of people keeping it a secret from everyone. That was him for a long time, after all. Gansey means as much to him as Adam, and had for much longer, albeit in a different way, and he still kept it from him.]
I got over that. They needed to know.
Why would they tell other people but not the person they're dating? Was it like three dates in? That makes no fucking sense.
[At times like these, Ronan wishes he understood dating. He also wishes Chainsaw would stay still so he could take a picture. He's about ready to spam the network with blurry wings.]
no subject
[ Cisco, meanwhile, is realizing that the scene he'd witnessed in the memory is not an isolated incident. If Ronan could... create himself a baby brother, at that age, making himself a pet raven would probably be no difficulty whatsoever. ]
i got a question about your powers, and if you don't feel like answering it just tell me to fuck off, ok?
[ Not that Ronan needed the permission, but Cisco wants it to be clear that this isn't an interrogation. ]
how in control of your powers are you?
just like an estimate: 50% 100% ?
is it something you gotta want really bad or something that can kinda just happen?
[ Perhaps another might not think to ask that, but Cisco has plenty of very personal experience with powers that need to be controlled, that can lash out of their own accord. ]
it was a complicated situation
all i'm saying is i've seen it happen lots of different ways, with the metas i've worked with
no subject
fuck off
[His control is an especially sore spot at the moment, given he's losing more of it every night, so the answer would be a blow to his pride. But it's his cynicism that really stops him.]
i don't do requests
no subject
i wasn't gonna hit you up for a dream stereo, and i think you know that.
i'm worried for your safety.
but i'm not gonna make you answer.
no subject
no subject
huh?
find out what?
[ Cisco can't tell if that's a "no I don't know your intentions are good" or maybe a belated "no I am not in control of my powers". ]
no subject
[Though really, the answer to Cisco's question is, objectively, "bit of both."]
i can handle the rest
[Because it's definitely not lying if you mean to keep your word, right? Right.]
no subject
okay. that's legit.
but if you ever can't handle it
i got some experience helping people with powers
and my phone is always on
no subject