ღ dream two
Warnings: Headcanon
Effects (optional as always): A stab of fear and suspicion, hesitation and a slight yearning before being completely overtaken by determination. This quickly gives way to a harsh burning sensation on the person's left hand and even afterwards, it still feels tingly.
Notes: Even if Shadowhunters leave the Clave, they still do have access to their children until they turn the age of eighteen. That means that members of the Clave will come by every six years and ask the child if they want to join the Shadowhunters. The mark on Jessamine's hand at the end is one of the few permenant marks that are known. It's a mark for Sight which allows them to strip glamours and see things that shouldn't be there.
"...can't be here!" a woman's agitated voice calls the attention of a six year old Jessamine. She tilted her head to the side and slid out of her seat, running towards her mother's voice. Her brown eyes blink as she searches for her familiar figure, but it's her father's voice that draws her towards the secluded, narrow hallway in their hall.
Peeking around the corner she can see her mother's cheeks flushed with agitation, her father standing protectively in front of her and a man she's never seen before. The stranger wears a dark suit, a shiny top hat and carried a walking cane with the head of an angel, its wings outstretched.
"Now, now Lilian...you and Roger know that these are the rules after breaking from the Clave," the man replied. His eerily calm voice scared Jessamine and the girl stiffened, drawing behind the leaves even though she was certain they couldn't see her. She recognized the word. She had been brought up to hate it and to immediately not trust it.
"You will address me as Mrs. Lovelace, sir," her mother replied back, her body posture rigid.
"We may have known each other once but that's certainly not the case any longer," her father replied. The man's eyes danced between the two, clearly enjoying their reactions. He finally bowed though but his voice was anything but apologetic.
"My apologies Mr and Mrs Lovelace, but regardless of whether or not you so dearly wish to conform to mundane customs, we still have claim to your daughter." He straightened up, a pleasant smile on his face. "And today is her sixth birthday. I'm merely here to wish her as much." Her mother's delicate hands tightened into fists, making the white marks there stand out and Jessamine saw her father grab her hand trying to whisper calming words into her ear. She was having none of it though.
"My husband and I know precisely what you're here to do. We won't allow it! Besides Jessie will say no." His smile curved into a smirk.
"Oh, I'm sure she will. You've raised her well undoubtedly," he drawled. "There should be no problem with my speaking to her if that's the case." He made a move towards the party but her father stepped in front of him. "Mr. Lovelace...Roger. If you do not move, I will use force." It was a quick motion - too quick for Jessamine to contemplate. The man's hand went towards his cane and there was a flash of silver, revealing that his walking cane was more than a mere cane. "And I unlike you both always have a weapon on me."
"Mama! Papa!" She forced as much false joy into her voice as she could as she ran towards her parents. Jessamine flung her arms around her parent's legs, an action she only ever did when they were without company. "Come back to the party!" Jessamine could tell that her parents were shocked, as was the mysterious man who she decided immediately that she did not like. Her father strained a smile patting her head and gently removing her hands from his leg.
"Jessamine...in a minute, love."
"And who is this?" the man asked, quickly recovering from his surprise. Jessamine saw his eyes flicker towards her parents and they were glittering. After a moment he spoke again, "It would be rather rude not to introduce me to your daughter, wouldn't it? Mrs. Lovelace?" Her mother blinked and cleared her throat, the telltale sign of her rage from before still on her face. When she spoke, her voice was composed and level but her gloved hand was shaking when she took Jessamine's and brought her forward to face the man.
"Jessamine, this is Mr. Hightower. He was an old acquaintance of your father and I." The man removed his top hat and bent down so that he was at eye level with Jessamine and she unconsciously pressed herself against the skirts of her mother's party dress.
"Hello. I’ve been told it’s your birthday. How old are you?"
"Much obliged, sir," she replied back dipping into a slight curtsey, "I just turned six." The man's face split into a terrifying grin.
"How lovely. Six is such an important age. But ah, I was wondering dear, if you would be so kind as to come with me just over there," he motioned to a more brightly lit, but rather empty side room for the guests were in the main parts of the house still without a care in the world, "so I could ask you something." Jessamine's eyes darted to her father and his eyes went to the man's cane before nodding at her, so she followed suit. "Lovely."
When they were out of hearing range the man smiled down at her. "I have no doubt that you know you're Nephilim."
"So I'm told, sir."
"Ah, and how do you feel about that my dear?" Jessamine's eyes were wary but she looked at him with slight hesitation. She knew what she was and although her parents didn't know, she quite liked the idea of being a part angel. It sounded something out of a fairy tale. She knew that her parents hated that world. They hated it with all their heart - but she often imagined her fairy tale books like that.
"I'm not quite sure I understand." The man hummed for a moment before twirling the cane in his hand lazily.
"How do you feel about being a Nephilim? How do you feel to be chosen by the Angel to fight against evil demons, my dear?" It didn't make sense how he was so calm about the topic - speaking as if he were speaking about the weather. Jessamine gulped. Her eyes darted to her parents who hovered out of hearing range, a look of rage still on her mother's pretty face and a look of worry on her father's. Her response was clean cut and well rehearsed:
"I don't like the idea at all. Demons are nasty things"
"Ah, but that's the sole purpose for our kind. We get rid of those nasty things!" He replied with a boyish grin. When he saw that he gained no response from her, his smile slid from his face. "Hmmm....so you wouldn't want to become a Shadowhunter?" Her response couldn't have been quicker. Jessamine's blonde curls swung from side to side.
"No, thank you sir." Something unpleasant flashed across the man's face but it was gone in a moment as he straightened up, placing his top hat on his head again. His smile was tight, but pleasant.
"What a shame, Miss Jessamine. You would have made a lovely Shadowhunter - much better than your own mother, I'm sure. But then again, anyone would. Happy birthday. I have no doubt that we'll see each other soon in another six years." Mr. Hightower passed by her parents, tipping his hat with a cruel little smirk on his face before seeing his way to the door. Almost as soon as he was gone, Jessamine started towards her parents, but they were already there, wrapping their arms around her.
"Oh, my Jessie..." Her mother was in near tears, an emotion she never betrayed in public or for that matter ever. Her father didn't say a word, and merely stroked her hair. "We'll never let you have that life. Never, ever. We swear on the Angel, my love. You'd never want it either - you understand why mama and papa keep you away from it, right?"
Jessamine's little body trembled but her eyes weren't meeting those of her parents. Slowly though, she nodded.
"Yes, mama."
[The dream fades into images that can't be made heads or tails of but at the end, an image slows, as if deliberately calling attention to itself. An image of a blonde girl, wincing and struggling, as her outstretched hand is held by a person off screen. Black marks suddenly appear on her skin and a burning sensation causes the girl to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from screaming. When the drawer stops, the black mark is in the shape of an eye. Any Shadowhunter watching will immediately be able to tell that it's the very first mark any Shadowhunter recieves: the mark for Sight.]
[Jessamine cracks open her eyes slowly, but her attention doesn't go to the Dreamberry right away. She lifts her arm, and gazes at the back of it simply staring at it. It's a while more until she sighs and rubs her eyes before rolling over to turn the device off. It seems like she's almost given up trying to hide her past anymore and doesn't bother to filter the thing even though she knows she should. She'll just deal with it later though - she's not in the mood. Happy Birthday to her.]
Effects (optional as always): A stab of fear and suspicion, hesitation and a slight yearning before being completely overtaken by determination. This quickly gives way to a harsh burning sensation on the person's left hand and even afterwards, it still feels tingly.
Notes: Even if Shadowhunters leave the Clave, they still do have access to their children until they turn the age of eighteen. That means that members of the Clave will come by every six years and ask the child if they want to join the Shadowhunters. The mark on Jessamine's hand at the end is one of the few permenant marks that are known. It's a mark for Sight which allows them to strip glamours and see things that shouldn't be there.
"...can't be here!" a woman's agitated voice calls the attention of a six year old Jessamine. She tilted her head to the side and slid out of her seat, running towards her mother's voice. Her brown eyes blink as she searches for her familiar figure, but it's her father's voice that draws her towards the secluded, narrow hallway in their hall.
Peeking around the corner she can see her mother's cheeks flushed with agitation, her father standing protectively in front of her and a man she's never seen before. The stranger wears a dark suit, a shiny top hat and carried a walking cane with the head of an angel, its wings outstretched.
"Now, now Lilian...you and Roger know that these are the rules after breaking from the Clave," the man replied. His eerily calm voice scared Jessamine and the girl stiffened, drawing behind the leaves even though she was certain they couldn't see her. She recognized the word. She had been brought up to hate it and to immediately not trust it.
"You will address me as Mrs. Lovelace, sir," her mother replied back, her body posture rigid.
"We may have known each other once but that's certainly not the case any longer," her father replied. The man's eyes danced between the two, clearly enjoying their reactions. He finally bowed though but his voice was anything but apologetic.
"My apologies Mr and Mrs Lovelace, but regardless of whether or not you so dearly wish to conform to mundane customs, we still have claim to your daughter." He straightened up, a pleasant smile on his face. "And today is her sixth birthday. I'm merely here to wish her as much." Her mother's delicate hands tightened into fists, making the white marks there stand out and Jessamine saw her father grab her hand trying to whisper calming words into her ear. She was having none of it though.
"My husband and I know precisely what you're here to do. We won't allow it! Besides Jessie will say no." His smile curved into a smirk.
"Oh, I'm sure she will. You've raised her well undoubtedly," he drawled. "There should be no problem with my speaking to her if that's the case." He made a move towards the party but her father stepped in front of him. "Mr. Lovelace...Roger. If you do not move, I will use force." It was a quick motion - too quick for Jessamine to contemplate. The man's hand went towards his cane and there was a flash of silver, revealing that his walking cane was more than a mere cane. "And I unlike you both always have a weapon on me."
"Mama! Papa!" She forced as much false joy into her voice as she could as she ran towards her parents. Jessamine flung her arms around her parent's legs, an action she only ever did when they were without company. "Come back to the party!" Jessamine could tell that her parents were shocked, as was the mysterious man who she decided immediately that she did not like. Her father strained a smile patting her head and gently removing her hands from his leg.
"Jessamine...in a minute, love."
"And who is this?" the man asked, quickly recovering from his surprise. Jessamine saw his eyes flicker towards her parents and they were glittering. After a moment he spoke again, "It would be rather rude not to introduce me to your daughter, wouldn't it? Mrs. Lovelace?" Her mother blinked and cleared her throat, the telltale sign of her rage from before still on her face. When she spoke, her voice was composed and level but her gloved hand was shaking when she took Jessamine's and brought her forward to face the man.
"Jessamine, this is Mr. Hightower. He was an old acquaintance of your father and I." The man removed his top hat and bent down so that he was at eye level with Jessamine and she unconsciously pressed herself against the skirts of her mother's party dress.
"Hello. I’ve been told it’s your birthday. How old are you?"
"Much obliged, sir," she replied back dipping into a slight curtsey, "I just turned six." The man's face split into a terrifying grin.
"How lovely. Six is such an important age. But ah, I was wondering dear, if you would be so kind as to come with me just over there," he motioned to a more brightly lit, but rather empty side room for the guests were in the main parts of the house still without a care in the world, "so I could ask you something." Jessamine's eyes darted to her father and his eyes went to the man's cane before nodding at her, so she followed suit. "Lovely."
When they were out of hearing range the man smiled down at her. "I have no doubt that you know you're Nephilim."
"So I'm told, sir."
"Ah, and how do you feel about that my dear?" Jessamine's eyes were wary but she looked at him with slight hesitation. She knew what she was and although her parents didn't know, she quite liked the idea of being a part angel. It sounded something out of a fairy tale. She knew that her parents hated that world. They hated it with all their heart - but she often imagined her fairy tale books like that.
"I'm not quite sure I understand." The man hummed for a moment before twirling the cane in his hand lazily.
"How do you feel about being a Nephilim? How do you feel to be chosen by the Angel to fight against evil demons, my dear?" It didn't make sense how he was so calm about the topic - speaking as if he were speaking about the weather. Jessamine gulped. Her eyes darted to her parents who hovered out of hearing range, a look of rage still on her mother's pretty face and a look of worry on her father's. Her response was clean cut and well rehearsed:
"I don't like the idea at all. Demons are nasty things"
"Ah, but that's the sole purpose for our kind. We get rid of those nasty things!" He replied with a boyish grin. When he saw that he gained no response from her, his smile slid from his face. "Hmmm....so you wouldn't want to become a Shadowhunter?" Her response couldn't have been quicker. Jessamine's blonde curls swung from side to side.
"No, thank you sir." Something unpleasant flashed across the man's face but it was gone in a moment as he straightened up, placing his top hat on his head again. His smile was tight, but pleasant.
"What a shame, Miss Jessamine. You would have made a lovely Shadowhunter - much better than your own mother, I'm sure. But then again, anyone would. Happy birthday. I have no doubt that we'll see each other soon in another six years." Mr. Hightower passed by her parents, tipping his hat with a cruel little smirk on his face before seeing his way to the door. Almost as soon as he was gone, Jessamine started towards her parents, but they were already there, wrapping their arms around her.
"Oh, my Jessie..." Her mother was in near tears, an emotion she never betrayed in public or for that matter ever. Her father didn't say a word, and merely stroked her hair. "We'll never let you have that life. Never, ever. We swear on the Angel, my love. You'd never want it either - you understand why mama and papa keep you away from it, right?"
Jessamine's little body trembled but her eyes weren't meeting those of her parents. Slowly though, she nodded.
"Yes, mama."
[The dream fades into images that can't be made heads or tails of but at the end, an image slows, as if deliberately calling attention to itself. An image of a blonde girl, wincing and struggling, as her outstretched hand is held by a person off screen. Black marks suddenly appear on her skin and a burning sensation causes the girl to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from screaming. When the drawer stops, the black mark is in the shape of an eye. Any Shadowhunter watching will immediately be able to tell that it's the very first mark any Shadowhunter recieves: the mark for Sight.]
[Jessamine cracks open her eyes slowly, but her attention doesn't go to the Dreamberry right away. She lifts her arm, and gazes at the back of it simply staring at it. It's a while more until she sighs and rubs her eyes before rolling over to turn the device off. It seems like she's almost given up trying to hide her past anymore and doesn't bother to filter the thing even though she knows she should. She'll just deal with it later though - she's not in the mood. Happy Birthday to her.]