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
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