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A new canvas

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“What’s jumping like?”

“It’s kind of like, being squished into a small space, before popping out.”

“That’s super cool, Five!”

“Yeah… I guess it is……”

A conversation lost to the whispers of time played on her mind, there was something so peaceful about destruction. Life falling and being destroyed, nothing left in its wake. But with this destruction came deep sorrow; it felt as though time had slowed down. Luther, trying to shield Allison from the falling stars; Klaus and Ben, holding each other closely as they accept their fate; Diego, knocked out on the ground; but the worst of all, was Five.

Vanya and Five had always been close, the two had big dreams and plans of running away once he got the hang of time travel. Just the two of them against the world; a childish dream that died the moment he failed to come home. That dream, still held in her heart as much as she tried to suppress it; and it was because of this that she chose to fix it.

Hearing was difficult, as her powers roared and everything was destroyed, but his voice, stood out before all of them. The White Violin, a force of dangerous nature, held Five in her arms, love and sorrow hanging around them as they both wept for the lost instances and the lost world, the roof of the theatre coming down upon them, leaving nothing.

Waking up was a slow process, one that felt as though she was forcing herself to gain control of her body. It was the movement of a weight on top of her that really jump started the process. Slowly opening to a white ceiling, gaze full of confusion before the events of those that passed truly hit. It was then that it dawned on her who was with her; Five.

Vanya had almost forgotten about their nightly escapades. The four of them, Four, Five, Six, and Seven. The useless quartet, or more often the scarred. Gently extracting herself from the sleeping boy, she trudged to her room.

Glancing around the barron room, the size so miniscule there wouldn’t be enough room to swing a cat. A gray, old twin sized bed with a rickety frame. No mirror, no poster, no personality; a scene very much different from the other’s rooms. It was a prison cell, save for the only thing that made it different; a beautiful violin. The only gift that Vanya had ever been given by her father. Small and unexceptional save for a violin, much like how Vanya herself was until twelve hours ago.

The bed creaked and sagged under her weight, the violin resting in her trembling hands. An orange carrier with a white top sat unassuming on her nightstand, as though it hadn’t destroyed her from the inside out. Anger filled her soul, she wanted to destroy it, to destroy Reginold; but, she didn’t. It would be disastrous, she couldn’t quit cold turkey, that’s what got her into this mess; and trying to kill those who harmed her didn’t fix what had happened, didn’t give her the strength or satisfaction she believed she had once had. It just left her hollow, more emotionless than before.

The pathetic excuse of a dresser shuddered with her, the reflection of a lost girl staring right back. Vanya strode over, hands combing through her drawers before pulling out a large pair of scissors. Gentle fingers ran through the untouched dark hair, before grabbing and slicing.

There was something so comforting about the sound of the scissors gliding through, locks falling to the ground in a sympathy of change and defiance. Brown eyes stared into themselves, hair short and messy, different; not Vanya and it was perfect. Tousled short hair fell upon her, the sides not even reaching the bud of her nose, swept to the side with bangs short, her face for once on display.

This act, may seem small to those of other lives, but this was the beginning of a new world, a new life. Casting the medication away, she trudged down the stairs, her head held high and her stare unapologetic. The warm and abundant chatter of breakfast drifted throughout the corridor; halting the moment she walked through the door. It was dead silent save for the clatter of cutlery.

Placing a pleasant smile on her face, she strode forward. “Good morning, mom,” she whispered as she planted a delicate kiss on her cheek before shuffling over to the table and taking her seat.

“Something seems different about you? Did you put on makeup,” Klaus teased, ever so eager to break whatever silence came upon them.

“It looks good,” Ben’s soft spoken voice rang through, earning a lopsided smile.

“It’s nothing really, I just thought that I’d try something new.” The soft, wavy hair brushed underneath her finger tips, a reminder of her new beginning.

Her back stiffened as Reginald walked through the entrance of the doorway, his eyes barely pausing at her hair before moving forward. He did not appear to be angry, or at least more so than usual. Vanya always found it a little more difficult to read him then others, as he always held a scowl plastered onto his face.


Practice took up most of the day, at least for the other six Hargreeves children. Vanya, as always, was left out and to her own devices. Grabbing her violin, she set out for the road; she needed somewhere to practice in peace, to test her powers and see what she could truly do with them. Leaving was laughably easy, the gate opened for her and no one came out to stop her. Why she hadn’t tried this before was lost on her, as she continued to trudge forward. Hailing a cab was a little more difficult, as most didn’t really want to stop for a young child, but she eventually got one to stop for her.

Using the little money that she had saved up, Vanya was able to find a secluded area of undeveloped land. The cabbie looked at her, perplexed, but a cheerful smile was enough to get him to leave, he did have other people to pick up.

A soft breeze ruffled her hair as she pulled out her violin, taking a deep breath before subcomming to the music. The air around her changed as she electrified it, but instead of trying to destroy those around her, she tried to create something new. The ground around her shook, as a lively and jaunty tune sang through. She imagined a grand tree being built around her, a camphor tree, similar to the one that she had read about in her books. Strong and unrelenting as the limbs expanded outwards, twisting and turning in a dance unknown to any but their own. Vanya’s song sped up, and with it so did the tree. Larger than life, larger than anything she’d ever seen. All creating around her, with her in the center, a cavern among the tree, its soul, Vanya.