Lunacy In A Minor- The Tale Of Violeta Dragunescu

[TherapyCat]

There were often times where she’d find herself reflective, but this was something different. Now she felt caught, almost forced into a thought, a memory, a scene where she felt defenseless. As she walked from Edigran that night, she was notably distracted.
   It had been almost a month since she had ventured to Dementlieu and the time had escaped her entirely. She’d pause in the middle of her walk. On the side of the road was a grassy area, futile with weeds and wildflowers. She’d smile at something briefly, fondly, before her eyes glossed over, and she was overcome with a feeling she couldn't quite place, a memory playing out before
 her.

“There’s nowhere to run outlander, I have you trapped!”

Violeta pointed the wooden sword triumphantly down to her father who was dramatically flopped onto the ground with his hands up by his sides, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh No! You have caught me, I have been bested by Private Dragunescu.” Her father chimed.


“That’s Captain Dragunescu to you, Scum!” Violeta would laugh, setting a boot on top of his chest.

Her father reached out, taking her by the hand and dragging her down to the grass with him, where he’d her tickle mercilessly as Violeta screamed and kicked about jovially. The grass would stain her clothing, and bramble and weeds would get tossed into her hair, the smell of the forest would stick to her person, the dirt would cake her skin, but she was happy.
   It would end quickly, however, as a figure in the distance quickly came closer, and closer. A woman began to come into view, beautiful, but terrifying. Like an impending storm. She’d hover and glare down to the duo.
  Her father would cease what he was doing to stand quickly, like a soldier who had to race to get to attention. Gently pulling Violeta up with him, as he dusted off her clothing.

“... Salut..Drag mea..” her father offered, glancing between the two of them.


“Don’t Drag Mea me, You know she’s not supposed to be out here.”
The woman glared, shaking her head  and grabbing Violeta by the hand.

“She’s a child, Sabina.” Her father shook his head, a bit defiantly.


“She may be, but she’s worth something more than all of this, and more than the both of us. I’m not going to throw away her talent so that she can roll around in leaves.” Sabina would roll her eyes, tugging Violeta along.

Violeta’s eyes wandered about the forest, desperate to soak in every detail like it was a piece of art that she was fascinated with and wanted to commit to memory. Her little feet dragging across the dirt path as she was dragged along one hand holding unto her mothers and another one carrying the wooden sword with a firm grip. She followed her mother out of the forest, past the well, behind that ironclad gate. Through the city were she given several harsh stares, through a door, up the stairs, and into a tiny room with a single-window and a single bed. This was home. In the corner was a music stand, sheet music, a chair, and her violin, with a purple ribbon tied unto its neck. Her mother pushed her into the room and closed the door. Leaning against it as she stared harshly at the child for several moments.

“Violeta.”

Violeta would lift her emerald eyes to her mother, head tilted in silence. She was young but old enough to know her mother didn’t want a response unless she directly asked for it.

Her mother motioned to the chair for her to sit. Straightening the sheet music and setting the violin in her tiny hands.

“Start at measure forty-two.”

Violeta nodded and brought the violin underneath her chin this was a new part in the music she hadn’t gotten to quite yet. She was supposed to practice it while her mother was at the market… She forgot. She told herself it was fine, she would just sight-read it. She set her violin bow to the strings, ignoring the key it was written in entirely. Now all of her notes were sharp, and the poor girl  was entirely oblivious.

Her mother would stop her, shaking her head disgusted.

“No, No-No! Stop. Stop that.” She grumbled, setting her hands to her temples as she turned away, seething.

“Violeta... Did you practice this at all?”

Violeta would look down at the floor before shaking her head silently.
Her mother would race over then, taking her chin in the palm of her hand and tilting her chin upwards so that she was forced to lock eyes with her.

“Violeta. I do this because I love you because you're talented. Because you show promise..”

She pauses, closing her eyes a moment before she shakes her head.

“Because there are only two places in this world for a woman like you. Do you know where that is? With your head on the end of a stick, or entertaining them until they tire of you… You have to be exceptional.. so they never tire of you… This world will never make room for you, otherwise.”

She claps her hands.

“Look at the key signature, try again.” She began clapping, glaringly  into her ear, setting the tempo.

1… 2.. 3.. 1.. 2.. 3… 1… 2..

“Three.”

She blinked twice as the words came out of her mouth and she found herself standing in the middle of the night in front of a grass patch. She’d wince heavily shaking her head as she resumed walking.

[TherapyCat]

Violeta stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection for a time. She would push stray strands of hair back into her face, reapplying the paint to her face, assuring that she looked her best, always. She’d close her eyes after a moment, losing herself briefly.

“Suck in your gut Violeta.” Her mother grumbled as she encircled around her with a needle and thread, stitching her clothing to perfection. Violeta stared at the ceiling while holding her breath in with a slight wince.

“Clothing-- it’s important. Men are stupid, you know. They are easily distracted by flashy, flowing things. Things that shimmer, and reflect the light. You can attract them like a moth to a flame.”


“And what about women?” Violeta glanced at her reflection for several moments, a brief frown.

Her mother regarded the question a moment before shrugging her shoulders as she stepped back to observe her creation.

“Women are a little harder to impress. But-- I’ll tell you this. If you look the part and play it off well enough, you can surely make one lie look real pretty, now let us go over your lines. If someone asks you your name, what do we say?”

“I Am Violeta.” She’d respond, faking a smile in the mirror, making her face practice taking the shape.

Sabina shook her head and slinked over, pushing the hair from Violeta’s face. She’d tap her on each shoulder with a stick and then a soft pat to the stomach.

“Your posture is horrible. Straighten your shoulders, suck in your stomach, lift those eyes. Being shy does not get you opportunities in this world….you are not /selling/ who you are Violeta, no one will want to look at you. You could just blend into any crowd. You have to make sure you are being seen…Try again.”

Violeta shifted her weight in between her feet, taking the criticism before attempting again.

“I.. I am Violeta Dragunescu, a Violinist.”

Sabina inclined her head slowly. “Better..”

Violeta shifted away from the mirror, running her hands over the skirt of her dress, a deep shade of purple. Her fingertips traced over the delicate stitching, hours of dedication spent in its creation.

“Mama?” She lifted her head to Sabina.

“Yes?” Sabina eyed her tiredly.

“Can... I go and show Father? ”  She looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“Fine Go show your father and come right back, yes?” Sabina conceded, waving a hand.

Violeta nodded, a smirk on her features as she turned away from her mother and shifted outside the door. She slinked around the slums until she came across a group of children, her friends as she considered them. They consisted of:


Claudia was the oldest of the group and was known for being a bit bossy. She was a bit larger than most children as well, in height and weight. She could be very intimidating.

Then there was Elena, Claudia’s little sister, who was very much the “baby” of the group. She cried every time they played games. Violeta did not like her very much.

There was Bogdan, who had a birthday three days apart from Violeta. She told everyone that he was her “twin” because of this. Bogdan was a child that always looked messy. Food stains were constant on his cheeks and clothing. His hair was always dirty and unkempt. He was a quiet kid but known for being kind.

And then, there was Dragos. Violeta’s cousin from her father's side. Dragos was a lute player, who Violeta was constantly compared to... and constantly she would fall short. Living a life of constant praise, Dragos was a complete buffoon, and Violeta abhorred him completely.

Violeta approached the group in her silk gown, giving a little bit of wave.

“Salut.”

Claudia would eye Violeta down from head to down, grabbing Elena by the arm and muttering into her ear, obviously making some teasing comment about her attire. Bogdan was entirely clueless that Violeta looked different, and went to throw a ball at her face, and Dragos stared at her narrowed eyes.

Violeta caught the ball between her hands with ease before looking to Dragos. “What?”

“Nothing, you just look like a Grape.” he snorted, motioning to her gown.

“What, you think you’re better than us or something Vi?” Claudia chimed in.

“I think she looks like a princess!” Elena would add, wide-eyed. Claudia pushed her down to the ground for that comment. And of course, she cried.

Violeta frowned deeply at Bogdan, awaiting his response.
He glances between the others for several moments before clearing his throat.

“It’s uh... you’re uh... Uh…. you’re… Pretty.” He’d state, swallowing.

Silence would follow a moment before Claudia would shove Violeta closer to Bogdan.

“BOGDAN HAS A CRUSH.” She’d state in a singsong, Elena joined in seconds later.

Dragos would smirk at the taunts, enjoying it all too much, as he went to shove Bogdan in closer.

“Just marry her already if you looooovveee her that much Bogdan!” He added.

Bogdan would glance about panicking. “What- No!? That’s not what I said! I don’t like her like that, That’s disgusting.”

Violeta’s eyes would harden then, she glanced down at the ball in her hands. She would then promptly and rather powerfully chuck it at Bogdan's face.

“Yeah. That’s disgusting.” She added. Walking away swiftly as the blood gushed from his nose, seemingly quite satisfied with herself.

Her little feet would carry her back home, where her mother and father were seated and awaiting her, a look of anger on her mother's features, a look of disappointment on her fathers.
Sabina shook her head, grabbing the bridge of her nose.

“You’ve already ruined it. Take it off, and get in bed. Now.”

Violeta would hang her head, and do as directed. Slipping into the bed she shared with her parents and staring at the ceiling for several moments. She smiled to herself briefly.

"He thinks I'm pretty."

She’d echo that sentence in her head. Seeming to focus on that, and only that.

She’d open her eyes. Shaking her head to herself. She knew better now. You can attract a moth with a flame, but you can’t guarantee that it will keep its interest.

[TherapyCat]

Violeta sat on her bed within her inn room. Her hands in her lap as she stared at the ceiling blankly, her fingers tapping the tempo of a song she had rehearsed earlier that day from the Opera, but she found herself distracted easily, in yet another memory.

“Violeta Stop crying do you think they will care if your feelings are hurt when you are playing in Grand Operas or in all the Theatres across the core? No. You are a professional. Act professional." Sabina grumbled as she continued to rake the kinks out of her curls with a brush, tugging and pulling at the roots.



“Why does my hair have to be pulled back for a performance anyways? Why can’t I just wear it down like all the other girls?” Violeta sniffed, pouting as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Sabina scoffed and went to stand in front of her, eyes narrowed.

“Because the other girls do not have a mother that cares the way I do. You will thank me, Violeta, someday when you are a famous musician, you will thank me. Listen here, when you perform? You don’t want them staring at anything else but your talent. Use your beauty, your wit, your humor to get them to notice you, but use your talent to make them see value in you to let you stay. You have to be more than beautiful to be a musician, otherwise, you might as well just use your rhythm at the nymph."


 Sabina continued to yank the brush through her hair, reaching up to tie a satin lilac ribbon at the front to secure the top section from her back. Violeta’s hands reached up, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She pauses for a minute, looking at her reflection in the mirror.


“Do you mean it, Mama, that you think I’m good enough to play around the core?”

Sabina's features softened a moment, squeezing her shoulders.


“You are exceptional, Violeta… All of this, all of the hard work we’ve put into this, is because I know you can.”


“Will you be there?” Violeta glanced over her shoulder, eager for her approval.

Sabina leaned down, kissing her cheek.

“Front row, middle section. But don’t wave at me, because that’s unprofessional. But yes, I’ll be there, always.”

Violeta would open her eyes, glancing about the inn room, before letting her eyes  settle at the worn violin on her desk, focusing the Lilac satin ribbon she'd fastened around its neck. Shifting off the bed, and into her desk chair, she’d begin practicing, over and over again, until she had reached near perfection.

[TherapyCat]

The night finally came, her first performance with the Opera. She was nervous, uncontrollably nervous. She had never even seen an Opera in her life, and now here she was, second chair to only Mademoiselle Harding. Her eyes scanned the audience, front row, middle section. She didn’t expect to see her mother there, again how could she be there? But she still looked, she still hoped, the girl within her still dreamed about one day winning her mothers approval. But alas, there were just the nameless faces of nobles and outlanders that were foreign to her. The moment she lifted her violin, someone did catch her eye. Duncan. She felt many things that day, pain, fury, confusion. “Why was he here?”. The last conversation he had left her with haunted her mind. “Barovians ruined my life.” She took that personally. She took the blame, the heartbreak of it all, and to see him sitting in that chair made her want to take everything from him as well. It didn’t help that when the show ended, he fled from the scene. Leaving her there to question his intentions without ever getting a plausible answer.


Men had a pattern of doing this to Violeta. She wasn't mad at Duncan for doing it,
She was mad at herself for never learning.                                                                

Violeta awoke to a timid knock on the door in the middle of the night. She left her parents bedside to open it, where she found Bogdan standing there, like a dog with a tail in between his legs, holding a Gloom flower, twirling it between his fingers silently.

“What?”  Violeta glared at him quietly, expectantly.

“I Uhm. I don’t think you’re disgusting Vi.” He started quietly, somewhat terrified of her.

“Okay.” She shrugged her shoulders, unimpressed, and continued to stare daggers into him.

“..I got you this.” He extended the flower out to her.

“What kind of flower is this?” Violeta wrinkled her nose.

“It’s uh.. It’s a Gloom Flower… I got it from the cemetery, next to my mothers grave.” He frowned, watching her take it in her hands.

“How romantic.” She stated, unimpressed.

“...Some say it’s cursed, actually.” He states awkwardly, rubbing a hand to his neck.

“You.. got me a cursed flower?” She states, somewhat  agitated now.

“Yes- Well No! I don’t believe it’s cursed Vi… I think it’s like you.” He held up a hand to block an impending abuse from the girl as he continued on, quickly “..It flourishes when people don’t expect it to, and it is misunderstood and.. Uh.. it’s beautiful, in a way people don’t understand or appreciate.”
Violeta blinked twice, just staring at the flower, while distracted Bodgan would plant a kiss to her cheek, before sprinting for his life, fleeing from the girl, terrified.

Memories Flash. Transpose time itself. At Least this one seemed to. She was much older in this reflection.

“My Mother is going to kill me.” Violeta gulped, looking at the freshly inked tattoo on her shoulder. Bogdan grinned, wandering up behind her, placing his arms around her waist from behind, as his head rested on her other shoulder, admiring the pair of them in the mirror.

“Not if she kills me first, right? Besides Vi-- this is so much better than rings. Rings break, fingers swell, rings fall off, get lost. But not this. We’ll carry this around on our bodies, forever” Bogdan kissed her cheek, absolutely smitten. He continued, “This way you can’t forget me when you’re famous!”

Violeta rolled her eyes, shifting away from the mirror, and shaking herself out of his embrace, as she slugged a bag on her shoulder.

“I’m not going to get famous, adding hems to skirts, Boogie.” She huffed.

“..Ah, she must  be mad at me she is retorting back to the childhood nickname she knows I hate!” Bogdan smirked, amused.

“Nobody likes people who speak in third person. You know.” Violeta hopped around on one foot, as she put the other shoe on, seemingly scrambling to get ready. Bogdan slumped down on the bed, watching her with vivid admiration.

“Funny, I thought Violeta /almost/ Covaci does!”

“Uh-huh. I love you, Boogie." She paused in the doorway, offering him a love-stricken smile before shifting out the door.

[TherapyCat]

As her 20th birthday drew closer, Violeta started to dread her impending birthday (June 19th). She hated celebrating it now, but there was a time she used to get excited about such a thing it, always meant a shared birthday party with Bogdan. Violeta's father would always go all out, buying her the finest cake from Mariska's. Her mother would always make her a new dress, and Bogdan and her friends from the slums would always gather, and while the party was never anything extravagant, it was always special.

“La Multi Ani!” their shared friends cheered as Violeta and Bogdan blew out the nine candles on their cake.

“What did you wish for?” Violeta leaned over, whispering to Bogdan.

“Better shoes.” He humored her, before shoving cake into his mouth without even the faintest bit of decorum, Violeta's shoulders would slump pouting.

“What did you wish for?” He questioned mouth full.

“A dog,” she said simply, her eyes drifting over to watch her parents arguing about something. Her mother berates her father with every colorful insult in the book. Her father was frustrated but took it, spinning his wedding band on his finger as the tiny Vistani woman continued to scream at him.

“You think they got you one?” Bogdan elbowed her lightly, trying to distract her, to shield her from what was happening, he was practically trained in the art now.

“No. Mama won’t let me have one, says she has enough things to take care of.”

“What did your father say?”

“Nothing. You know he never stands up to her. He’s a coward.” Violeta grumbled, finally digging into her cake.

“You shouldn't talk about him like that, he’s your father.”

“You shouldn't talk about something you don’t know anything about.” Violeta quipped defensively, borderline aggressive.

Bogdan paused, staring at his empty plate for several moments, before speaking.

“When.. are we doing our gifts to each other?”

“Here.” Violeta begrudgingly handed him a little blue box. Bogdan’s filthy hands pried the top open, a pair of nice dress shoes sat in the box. He excitedly raced to shove them onto his fat little feet.
“How’d you afford this?!”
“I traded them, made some dresses for the Cobbler's wife. Do you like them?”
“I do. I haven’t had a new pair of shoes in… ages, Thank you, Vi, Oh… here.” He hands her a much smaller box, pink. Her dainty hands pry the bow of the package, before pulling out a circular pendant, with a hole on the top. Engraved in the center it reads “HoneyCake.” Violeta pauses, confused.

“You want me to wear a necklace that says “Honeycake?” Violeta asks him plainly, unimpressed.

Bogdan shakes his head. “No. It’s for our dog...The dog I am going to buy you one day.”

He promises, with that same goofy love-stricken smile he always had.

Violeta’s hand looked down to the silver pendant for a time before tucking it away. Another year passed, another empty promise unfulfilled.

[TherapyCat]

As the Full moon receded into the morning sky, Violeta hovered over the corpse of one of the thugs in the Marchand, breathing heavily. Bloodstained on her gown, her hands, her face, her hair. Her dainty, polished,  and painted appearance was, ruined. Even as her eyes returned to their normal dilation, a crooked smile returned on her features. Even the sane part of her enjoyed the rush, leaving little room for regret or remorse. She slinked her way through the Marchand, through the gates, and into the ocean, letting the cold water wash over her repeatedly, her eyes closing slowly. She could rest, after all... It was self-defense. Right?

Spoiler: show

“All right. here is  how you do it.” Adrian, Violeta’s father would stand behind her, guiding her arms and legs into the right positions. “Feet apart, balance your weight. Your body and  legs stay straight like this while your hips turn.”

Violeta copies him, shrugging her short bow off her shoulder and awaiting his next instruction.

“Good! Now, grab an arrow from your quiver and place it within the rest. You are going to draw this string back here, to your cheek. It will take a bit of strength to do so when you are ready, aim and release.”
Violeta does so the arrow plummets into the ground, only a couple of feet in front of her. Her father winces before giving a supportive smile.

“That’s all right! It will take practice.” He pats her back with a calloused hand before shifting to stand next to her. “I’m glad you were able to sneak away long enough from your mother to come hunting with me.”

“I told her I was going to go practice with Dragos. She's obsessed with proving that I am better than him, so she bought into it.”

“You’re too clever for your own good….She should stop comparing you two, it’s not a competition. You don’t compete against your family.” He sighed, shaking his head. “You should not lie to your mother, and I should not be encouraging it... Let's get you back home.” He shifted away, turning.

“Wait, look!” Violeta grabbed his arm, whispering as she bobbed her head to the buck in the distance. Her father's brow rose, amused.

“You want to go for it?”

“You don’t think I can?” Violeta paused, her eyes narrowed.

“No, No. I didn’t say that.” Adrian holds up his hands, grinning.

“Remember what I told you. Shoot to Kill, not to injure. We aren’t here to torture them remember to take deep breaths, balance yourself  before you--.”

 He paused a mixture of being  mortified and impressed as the ten-year-old girl had shot the buck in the heart, causing it to screech in pain, and tumble over, trembling slightly before dying, blood gushing from its chest. Violeta ran over, standing in front of it, a crooked smile on her features, proud of herself before turning to her father for his approval, instead he just looked troubled.

Spoiler: show

"It is five hundred fangs for the private room” Violeta huffed to the Elderly man as she slinked around the corner, adjusting her top purposely.

“That’s a bit steep ain't it sweetheart?” He grinned, leaning back in his chair, amused with the display.

“ Quality costs. You can have one of these old hags if you would prefer.” She thumbs over her shoulder to the other women of the nymph.

“Zujenia, Zujenia, You’re a sweet girl, why are you making this so.. Difficult?” He went to reach out for her hand, Violeta strayed away.

“Not in a million years.” She scoffed before turning away.

“You're gonna regret that, girl.” The man shook his head, his expression blank.

Violeta would continue her shift with the other women. It was a job, it paid. She enjoyed dancing. She enjoyed the freedom of it, the release, the creation of art that was not so... scripted, or practiced, or serious. Elena would saunter over, taking Violeta by the arm.

“Zujenia? That’s the name you chose?” She inquired casually as she led her backstage.

“What? It’s exotic and fun. It means Woman, I thought it was humorous. What name did you go with?”

“Elena.” She paused, shrugging her shoulders.

“Are you serious? You can’t give them your real name, what if... They see you outside of all this, how are you going to have a normal life outside of this?”

“Sweet, Violeta. There is no life outside of this is all we are now.” Elena replied softly, with a sad smile, before shifting away to saunter over to some man.

Violeta refused to believe this truth she would wipe the paint off her face, changing into her usual clothing, as she shifted out of the nymph, unto the street. A shadow emerged from the distance, veering closer.


“You should be more careful.” The elderly man stepped out from the shadows, smirking.

“I Will be fine, it’s almost morning.” She peered about, plotting her escape if it came to it.

“I’m not talking about the noapte…Violeta.”

She paused, her eyes narrowing, a hand slinked behind her back as the man drew closer.

“You’re a looker, you know that? The pretty ones get all the attention... I thought Zujenia was an odd name… So I did some digging, I did…” He fluffs out a paper, reciting.

“Violeta Dragunescu… daughter of Sabina and... The deceased Adrian Dragunescu..”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about domn.” She’d attempt to shift past him, eyes narrowed. The elderly man grasps her arm tightly.

“Ah- Where are you going girl? Where’s your mother. on the paper where it says you’re sixteen..that’s a bit young to be here isn’t it?”

“You have me confused with somebody else, I am Zujenia, I am twenty-three.”

“Sure you are.” He smiled, leaning in closer to her, Violeta’s leg would kick up, giving the man a swift kick to the groin. The elderly man falls overdramatically, whimpering in pain. She could have stopped there.

She could have.
But she didn’t, the hand behind her back was holding a dagger which she used to stab him repeatedly, over... And over again.

She could have stopped.

She could have. 

But her trembling, tiny form would drag the elderly man into the nearby sewer gate, tossing his corpse to be feasted upon the rats.

That small, sick, smile on her features.

[TherapyCat]

Violeta stared at the dolls on the shelf of her friends  hotel room, some of them half turned away. Others staring straight at her, forcing to draw her attention.

Spoiler: show

Violeta sat at home, playing with dolls with her group of childhood friends. Claudia held up her porcelain doll, expensive and intricate in its design, pale skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, a pink satin dress, ruffled socks, and black shoes. Elena had the same doll and, she copied everything her older sister did. Violeta had one made out of brown fabric, with black yarn hair, brown buttons sewn for eyes, and a crooked creepy-looking smile patched on.

“Soooo, this is Claudia the second. She is my daughter, to my very, very, rich noble husband.” She propped the doll up, extending out the little hand as she gave it a wave.

“And This is uh... Elena The Second...I married for love, but uh... I am also very rich!” Elena would copy Claudias movements before looking to Violeta expectantly.

“Uhm. This is uh... Is... Lumi.” She stated, shrugging a helpless shoulder.

“What’s your husband like?” Claudia shuffled over nosily, insistent on getting an answer.

“Oh, Uhm. I don’t have a husband.” Violeta glanced off sheepishly, shrugging.

“You don’t have a husband!?” Elena gasps, her eyes wide.

“Nope. Mama says men are a distraction and a waste of time.” Violeta nodded.

“Well, what about Bogdan?” Claudia huffed, unimpressed.

“Bogdan is just my friend,” Violeta commented defensively.

“Uh-huh. We all have friends who give us flowers and follow us like lovesick puppies, and dream about futures with us.” Claudia snorted crudely.

“We do?” Elena paused brushing the doll's hair  Claudia shoved her over for asking a stupid question. Elena cried, typical. Violeta went about braiding the doll's hair.

“Well, you have to have a husband!" Claudia continued, switching out the dress on her doll as Elena pouted in the corner.

“ Says Who?” Violeta paused then, for once eying Claudia, challengingly.

“Wha-Wh..” Claudia stammered, taken off guard. “What do you mean who? That is what is expected of us in just a few short years Vi our mothers are going to be arranging these kinds of things. You should be excited.”

“Excited?” Violeta paused, her eyes narrowing.

“Yes, excited! With your Uhm... “Exotic” features men will be tripping themselves over to talk to you!”

“ I would rather drown myself in the Luna river.” Violeta rolled her eyes, clearly thrilled at the idea…

Spoiler: show

“What the Hell were you thinking!?” Sabina grabbed Violeta by the arm, dragging her across the room. “Who is going to hire you... With this... Cheap ink you have engraved on your arm!” she fusses over Violeta, wincing heavily. “Do you not realize this is permanent, why-- why would you do this?”

Violeta started at her. “I told you, me and Bogdan are getting married whether you like it or not!”

Sabina turned away seething as she motioned to the pathetic room they called their home.

“Do you see this Violeta? This is what happens when you marry a Barovian. You spend your life in misery, constantly working, striving, for what? To pass the time while you wait to die? I wanted more for you, your /father/ wanted more for you than this!”

“Father only wanted me to be happy unlike you!”

Sabina rushed over then, giving Violeta a slap across the face. Violeta would fall giving, a hard thud against the ground. Sabina looms over her.

“Your father was too soft for this world. I thought I raised you to be stronger, smarter than this. I have sacrificed everything, I have given everything for you to have a chance at a better life, and this is how you repay me? Ungrateful brat!” She continued repeatedly hitting Violeta. Violeta raised her arms to cover her face, dodging most of the blows as her mother continued attacking her.

“You think he’s going to love a freak like you? Hm!? Wait until he has to lock you behind a door, cover your mistakes, defend your name, create lies for you every time the moon rises. It is /exhausting/ loving a mutt like you!"

She  huffed, finally backing away, horror in Sabina's eyes as she watched Violeta trembled on the floor shifting away from the woman like a terrified animal. Silence fills the room for several moments. Before Sabina turns away, casually walking towards the bed, her voice is calm, firm, certain.

“You’re not marrying him. It’s final.”

“Even if I am  carrying his child?” Violeta replied softly, rising from the floor, her body trembling.

Sabina turned slowly, her hands forming into fists. Her eyes are harsh as she slinks across the room over to Violeta.

“There’s a tea you can--.”

“I’m not drinking it.” Violeta cut her off, shaking her head several times.

“A child will ruin your life.” Sabina eyed Violeta from head to toe as if making her point personal before she turned away, shifting into the bed and turning towards the wall.

Pretending as if nothing had happened.

[TherapyCat]

A hand traced over the stretch marks on her stomach as she stood in front of her inn room mirror a slight wince as the memories began to flood.

Spoiler: show

“You’ve barely touched your Cake.” Bogdan frowned as he and Violeta sat across from each other in Mariska’s.

“..I’m just not hungry.” Violeta pushed away from the plate, frowning.

“You’re always hungry… what’s wrong?” Bogdan narrowed his eyes, not buying it as he shoved the plate back.

“...I’m with child.” Violeta closes her eyes, sighing heavily.

Bogdan would glance about frantically, processing this information. Visibly stunned.

“Violeta... We are fifteen!”

“I know.” She replied before continuing. “But you know--a lot of people are married off by now, starting families and--.”

“I didn’t think we’d be those people.” Bogdan shifted up from the table, rubbing at his face the boy was terrified.

“....You are not calming my nerves.” She stated plainly, shoving a forkful of cake into her mouth.

“I’m sorry. Look… We’ll figure it out? We always do… besides, now I have a reason to marry you that your mother can’t deny.”

“She’ll find a way.” Violeta rolled her eyes continuing to eat her cake. Bogdan would shuffle about nervously before flopping onto the floor on one knee. Violeta regarded him casually.

“Violeta Dragunescu, will you give me the honor of becoming my wife.” Bogdan had no ring, so naturally, he grabbed the fork off the table and presented it to her.

“This is the fourth time you’ve asked..” She eyes him, chewing. “This week.”

“I know,” Bogdan replied with a goofy smile, his eyes dancing for Violeta.

“Fine.” Violeta conceded a warm smile on her face, which was quickly rushed away as Bogdan  raced to press his lips against hers, firmly.
 

Spoiler: show

“Do you remember our vows, Adrian?” Sabina stared at the blank wall completely out of it as she sat in the bathtub. Violeta’s hands would take the large sponge, bathing her mentally ill-ridden mother. Violeta ignored the question. Sabina beamed as she continued speaking.

“I do. I remember every word. All the promises we made.” Sabina’s eyes lift to the ceiling.
“We were selfish kids, in love. We thought the world would understand.” she hums lightly. Sabina would close her eyes as she relaxes in the bath for a mere moment there was peace within the room. After several moments of silence, Sabina’s eyes would open again, turning to Violeta.

“Do you remember the song He used to sing to you every night?”

Violeta paused, giving a brief, if not sad smile. “Of course I do.”

“Could you sing it?” She asked before motioning to the blank wall. “He loves to hear you sing, you know.”

Violeta’s smile faded then, almost instantly she glanced down to the sponge in her hand, debating something before she began to sing.


As she finished the last verse, tears would streak down Violeta’s face. Sabina would turn to her then, coldly as she rose out of the bath.

“Do not be so weak, Violeta. Men will break promises. Your father was no exception.” She shifts out of the bath, then, wrapping herself with a towel, as Violeta remained on the ground, her eyes narrowed as she processed something.

“...You don’t get to do that,” Violeta mumbled after a moment, slowly rising.

“I don’t get to do what, Vi?” Sabina turned a small, sick smile.

“You don’t get to talk about father like that. He was good to you.” Violeta protests quietly, her confidence wavering.

“Just like Bogdan was good to you?” She wanders over, hovering over Violeta, her eyes violent. She gives a twisted smile.

“....How’s Luminita doing?”  Her words are crafted to sting Violeta, and they do.

An audible slap is given to Sabina from her teenage daughter. Sabina steps back in utter shock. Silence fills the room before Sabina’s eyes rise slowly, her lips twisting into an evil maddened smirk.


"How does it feel to become everything you hate, Violeta?”

The question replayed in her mind as she stared at her reflection. She'd cheat the mirror towards the wall, refusing to answer it.

[TherapyCat]

“I’m being stupid I know.”

Violeta had said this sentence almost a dozen times in her life. She had the wisdom to know what she was doing was dumb, was dangerous, risky, and downright ignorant, she just didn’t have the self-restraint to keep herself from doing it. No, because once Violeta had set her mind on something-- or even worse her heart? She wasn't going to stop until she had it, or until it ended horribly. She was always like this, born with this drive to see her desires come to life. In some aspects of her life, it was helpful, made her successful, got her on stage, got her praises from audience members, flowers from adoring fans… On the other hand, this nasty habit she had developed would get her into an immense amount of trouble as well.


Men, especially.

Oh, and she always had a really good excuse as well.

“I’m being stupid I know, but Bogdan loves me.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but I can learn how to be a good mother.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but we need the money.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but nobody has to know that  I did it.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but I did what I had to.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but Duncan would never hurt me.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but it's just one drink.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but I don’t believe Anica would ever do that.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but the world would rather have Zujenia than Violeta.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but he swears it won’t happen again.”

“I’m being stupid I know, but I’m still in love with him.”

Spoiler: show

“I’m being stupid I know but... I hope that you can hear me.”
Violeta stood in front of the asylum. Her feet had brought her several times here over the years. Over the years she had visited, walked through the door, paused in front of the warden, smiled, brought flowers, and would say

“I am here to visit my mother. It’s our birthday.”

And every time without checking, the warden would state in an annoyed tone.

“She refuses to see you.”

And every time, Violeta would leave dejectedly, and sit on the hill overlooking the asylum, holding the yellow tulips in between her hands and hoping her mother could hear her, even if she knew it was stupid.

“I forgive you.” She states every year, into the darkness, her eyes hazy with her tears, and although she wanted the words to be truthful, deep down, she knew that was stupid too.

Spoiler: show

In the stages of the second trimester of her pregnancy, Violeta was already deeply in love with the child she never knew she wanted. The way her body has stretched and grown, and left large red veins on her dark skin, would trouble most women, but as her fingers traced over the lines in the mirror, fascinated like it was the proudest piece of artwork she had ever created. Her eyes would light up dramatically whenever she felt the child kick, or shift, or move. She was inquisitive, she would watch the mothers in the city taking notes on parenting techniques on things she liked and things she didn’t. How mothers would hold their children, feed them, sing to them. She wanted to study all of it. She didn’t know what kind of woman she wanted to be yet, as she was only a child, but she knew what kind of mother she wanted to be.

A damn good one.

She spent most of her time daydreaming about what she wanted her life to look like with Bogdan. A small house, something modest but homey. Warm, inviting, something that her own home never was. Her whole personality shifted the moment, she found out she was with child, and as did her desires. She wanted her child to be known and loved and never feel unwanted.
These daydreams were often cut short because that’s all they were, dreams. Every time Violeta drifted off into some vacant thought, Sabina would snap her back to reality.

“You’re getting fat. It is going to be harder to hide it we need to get rid of it.” She stated as she paused her sewing, snapping at Violeta to get back to work.

“I don’t want to get rid of it, Mother.”

“Funny, I don’t remember giving you the choice.” Sabina lifted the garment she was working on, casually inspecting it. Violeta pouted quietly, Sabina would continue after a moment.

“I don’t see Bodgan providing for this thing, it’s been almost four months, and he has no work, no home for it, no means of taking care of it. Face it, Vi, you can’t do this. Just admit you made a mistake and let me take care of it.”

“I’m being... Stupid... I know but...  It’s not  a it, she has a name.” Violeta protested.

“She? Iadul. You don’t even know it’s a girl. You don’t get attached to it. It’s not a person yet. It’s a mistake… You know-- the neighbor's girl, I heard she got into a similar problem, and her mother has been keeping her locked away, in hiding. You should be grateful I’m not doing that.”

“...What neighbors girl?” Violeta paused, dejected.

“Oh you know, that one that used to braid your hair, and flirt with your cousin. Claudia, or something like that.”

“..Her mother said she went to work at a tavern in Kroftburg…” Violeta’s eyes narrowed, disgusted.

“Guess she lied. Anyways. Locked her up, real good, until she’d agree to get rid of it. Know how they did it? Pushed her down a flight of stairs they did.”

“..That’s horrible.” Violeta looked Ill. She stepped away from her mother, horrified.

Sabina shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m just saying, Violeta. Make the right decision before I make it for you.”

Sabina gave Violeta a crooked smile over her shoulder before leaving her alone to work.

Spoiler: show

Violeta giggled as she held her hands over her eyes, smiling widely.
“They are closed I promise!”

“You swear?” Bogdan led her into a room, a hand gently spread out over her back, the other pushing a door open.

“I swear!” Violeta beamed, one of the few times in her life she was genuinely happy.

“All right, on the count of three, you can look... One.. two…”

He stalled just to annoy her, amused.

“Bogdan.” She whined at the silence.

“Fine! Sorry. Three.” He gives her back a pat before he motions to the room, proud.

Violeta’s jade eyes opened to find a run-down room resembling a tenement. With a small wooden bed with mildewed sheets, a creaky flooring with shifting baseboards, a ceiling with cracks, and leaking corners, a boarded-up window… and in the corner, a small crib. Built by hand. With the letters “LC” carved on the center of it. Violeta’s eyes misted as she slowly stepped over it, her fingers tracing over the letters.

“Just.. like we talked about.” She sniffed quietly, her lips curving into the most honest smile she had likely ever given.

“Luminita if it’s a girl like you want…. And Luca, if it’s a boy, just like I want… Or.. maybe it’s twins and we could have… both.” He stated, lifting his hands to block the impending attack.

Instead, Violeta just glares, lovingly in silence. Bogdan trails up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and setting his chin on top of her head.

“Do you like it?” He inquires, quietly.

“It’s perfect.” She smiles, wiping a tear away as it stains her cheek.

‘“I know it’s stupid… I know I'm not the type men want to marry and take home, anyways.”

Was the last time she had used this phrase, the only difference is this time she hoped she was wrong.

[TherapyCat]

"Silver Bangles, like the ones the vistani wear. They might be thieves but, they look so beautiful in their colors and beautiful jewels.”


Thieves. The word replayed in Violeta’s mind after the woman said that.

Spoiler: show

Sabina was many things.

Selfish, condescending, beautiful, crazy, complex, manipulative, conniving, captivating, talented, the list goes on and on.

But she was never a thief.

When people always said things about the vistani. Good, bad factual, unfactual Violeta never really knew how to feel or how she was supposed to feel. Sabina made it clear she wanted Violeta to be a barovian. She didn’t want to know anything about her vistani ancestry. Whenever Violeta would ask, Sabina would always give the same response:

“Why do you want to know about the people who outcast you and everyone you love?”

And every time, Violeta would think to herself “Everyone I have ever loved, eventually outcasts me at some point anyway.”

But She never voiced that opinion. She knew better than that.



She hated going to the Vistani camp, but as a seasoned adventurer, that was practically a given. She had a routine that she followed. Head down, eye forward. Don’t draw any attention to yourself. In the same fashion, she hated walking the streets of Vallaki, even if it was once her home.

She hated hearing things like:

“Your features are so exotic.”

“It’s no wonder you’re a musician given your…ancestry.”

“You’re not going to curse me, are you?”

“Oh, I’ll have to watch my pockets then.”

The fact is, when people made these statements, Violeta couldn't refute them she had no idea what kind of people she came from before her whole life Sabina wanted her daughter to be perceived as only a barovian.

Violeta hated people who could proudly say that they were half-vistani. She didn’t envy the rich, or the famous, or even the ones in power. Violeta envied the people who knew who they were. Even more so? The people that were confident about it.

Spoiler: show

Violeta stood in the kitchen, helping her father prepare dinner. Her hand held an onion as her other thinly diced it.

“How did you meet Ma?”

Adrian glanced over at Violeta for a moment. He would pause his stew stirring to give her a soft smile.

“She’d kill me if I told you.”

Violeta paused her slicing to wander over to her father, giving his sleeve a tug as her eyes softened, jade orbs growing misty as she pleaded. Adrian caved, as always, and motioned for her to take a seat at the kitchen table. Violeta raced over to take a seat, and he joined her a couple of minutes later.

“I found her crying in the woods, with her head in her hands. I was in the middle of a hunt, and I asked her to keep it down, that she was going to scare all the deer away with her noise. It was a joke really, but your ol’ Ma didn’t really find it that funny. She had her back turned away from me, and when she turned I…well. I wanted to run. She.. well. She didn’t look like the girls I was supposed to be making jokes with.”

“Oh. She was too pretty for you.” Violeta nods sagely and pats his forearm in understanding.

Adrian guffaws, before swatting her away.

“That is not what I meant-- I mean she was--is. But that’s not the point! What I mean is that... She wasn't... Really..you know...er... Barovian. She’s not the type of girl I was supposed to be taking home. But I did. I took her here, made her some stew, and I let her cry it all out. I listened to her, and by the time she was done crying, she was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. She fell asleep at this kitchen table.”

“Why was she so sad?” Violeta’s head titled.

Adrian stared past her, his gaze hardening.

“There won’t be a person alive that will ever really understand Sabina. Her father included. Her tribe included…I’d imagine that has to get pretty lonely, Vi. Imagine if I told you, you couldn't come home over something you did?”

Violeta paused, frowning deeply. Adrian leaned over, setting a hand to her cheek at her response.

“I promise I will never do that. You were the best thing to ever happen to me. I don’t know how a father can forget that.”

Violeta’s frown quickly faded away.

“So what did you do then?”

Adrian shrugs his shoulders.

“She wanted to fall asleep at the table. I gave her a pillow and a blanket. All the other men in her life wanted to control her. I just wanted to love her. Whoever she might be, wherever she may go. If she wanted to sleep on the kitchen table? Cry in the middle of the woods? Dance barefoot in the middle of my kitchen? I let her.”

“You loved her then, from the first sight?”

“Nah. You can’t love someone, at first sight, Vi. It’s more complex than that. But I knew I wanted to be the one she cried to from the first day I met her. I knew I wanted to be the one who cooked her dinner, and who let her fall asleep at my table. And sure, we got a few nasty stares along the way. Had people that wouldn't talk to us, wouldn't rent to us. Called us every name in the book.”

“Was it worth it?” Violeta leaned up as she asked her question, utterly fascinated with the story.

With no hesitation, Adrian nodded.

“It was.”

They shared a smile before his eyes widened in shock, he raced over to the kitchen.

“My stew is burning!”

Spoiler: show

Sabina leads Violeta through the market, their hands interlocked. Violeta smiled, watching the vendors set up their stalls, the children running about and playing, the merchants trying to peddle their wares. The chaos of it all, she found endearing. Sabrina riffled through a box of turnips, seemingly trying to pick out the best ones, before shifting them into her basket. Violeta ignored the whole process as she waved to a random noblewoman, being quite a sociable creature before she knew better. The noblewoman upturned her nose to Violeta before walking over regarding Sabina.

“It’s one thing to steal domna, and another to flaunt it about the streets.” She sneered glancing, between Sabina and Violeta.

Sabina paused, eyeing her harshly, but calculated. Violeta still looked clueless.

“I haven’t stolen anything.”


“Mhm. Sure you haven't, dear. First, it’s a trinket here and there, and then it’s a hardworking barovian man. You people just don’t know when to stop, do you?”  The noblewoman snickered, giggling between her flock of women. Violeta shifted behind her mother then, hiding. Sabina continued to eye the group harshly, waiting until they were done giggling to speak.

“Let me repeat myself to you. I haven’t stolen anything. I merely loved the man, you wouldn't have the common decency to even look at from your rooms in the blue water. As for the /it/, this is my daughter. Violeta Dragunescu. You will see her name everywhere someday. She is a talented musician, and you will feel ashamed that you ever tried to label her as stolen property.”

Sabina grabbed Violeta’s arm from behind her pushing the girl out of hiding, and towards the Noblewomen. Violeta stands there awkwardly. The noblewomen continue to cackle, unphased by Sabina’s little speech.

“You can give her a barovian name, that doesn’t make her a barovian.”

Spoiler: show

“Zujenia.” she practiced the name in front of the mirror of her dressing rooms several times. “I am Zujenia.” She would strike a sultry pose before grimacing.

 Elena shifted past the curtain joining her. “You know, I thought the whole point was so that people /didn’t/ know that you are a mutt, Vi.” Elena shifted her out of the mirror, applying lip paint. “I mean, isn’t that what you told me, that it is  some big dark, bad secret?”

“It is. But..Barovian doesn’t sell. Not with all the outlanders that are coming in here these days. I have... To be... Different... And bold... And exiting. I.. don’t have the confidence with men that you do.”

Elena waves a hand. “Honeycakes, it ain't about confidence, it’s about tight shirts and small words.”

“Small words?” Violeta trailed off, quizzically.

“You’ll be fine. Although if you’re trying to sell up the whole vistani thing? You'll need more of the tacky jewelry. Oh! And color. You’re wearing too much brown. Actually- you know I saw a costume in storage. Hold on.” Elena raced off, before returning with a gaudy, red skirt and half-top with frills, embellishments, and little coins sewn on the hems, that rattle.

“You should wear /this/.”

“..That’s not what they wear.” Violeta frowned, grimacing.

“Well, it’s what you wear, if you want to make money.” Elena smiled, setting the costume in her lap before leaving.

Violeta’s hand traced over the fabric, or lack thereof before sighing.

“Zujenia! You’re on in ten!” a man called behind the curtain.

Violeta shook her head and dawned the attire, grabbing a tambourine from the floor. She shifted behind the curtain and held a dramatic pose, waiting for jaunty music to begin.

It didn’t matter who she was.

This is who the world wanted her to be.

So she’d become it.

[TherapyCat]

“Yeah, I know she’s a lot. But I love her.”
Violeta had a habit of picking the same friend. The fiery brunette with a loudmouth and dramatic tendencies. But would stand by her regardless of whatever happened. This wasn't entirely an intentional decision on her part. That was just the personality she attracted. Before Xiao, there was Anica, and before Anica, there was Elena…

Spoiler: show

Violeta sat down the paper, eyeing Elena dubiously... “Really, The Nymph?”. She flipped the poster back and forth, a very concerned expression on her features.


 Elena beamed, adjusting herself in her chair at Mariska’s with a sage nod.

“Vi honey, imagine this, okay? Beautiful outfits, painted faces, men tossing fangs at us. All we have to do is smile and act interested, and do little dances. I mean, there’s worse work out there.”

“I guess.” Violeta frowned after a moment, sliding the notice back over the table.

Elena’s features softened, she reached over to take Violeta’s hand.

“I know life has been hard for you Vi. First your pa, then Sabina being sent away…I just want to make your life easier.”

“..My father would be rolling over in his grave if he knew.. That I was even considering this.” Violeta huffed, rubbing at her features.

“Vi. I don’t want to be this person. But what other skill sets do you have? You have nobody to take care of you. It’s time you started taking care of yourself…Listen, I know you wanted to be a musician but--.”

“That was my mother's dream,” Violeta interjected softly, staring down at her empty plate.

“And what’s yours?” Elena tilted her head slightly.

“I don’t know,” Violeta admitted, with a sense of clarity and confusion wrapped together.

“Well. Until you know the dream… why not start with providing for yourself?”

Violeta rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“When do I start?”

Spoiler: show

Violeta laid on the table within her tenement, her legs spread as she screamed in agonizing pain. Elena rushed over with a wet towel, setting it on her head  lovingly as she peered down to the woman.

“Violeta, you are doing great, you should be able to start pushing at any moment.”

Bogan rested at the end of the table, staring at his wife from an angle he probably never wished to, the poor boy looked traumatized.

“Do you see anything Bodgan?” Elena chimed down and continued to coo down to Violeta.

“Uh. A head maybe?”

Elena beamed, leaning down to whisper to Violeta as she held her hand.

“Honey, you are so close. But you have to start pushing, da?”

Violeta’s eyes swelled up with tears, she began to lightly sob, an exhausted, miserable mess.

“I can’t… Lena.., I can’t do it.”

Elena reached over, giving her a firm slap across the face. Violeta stopped crying and the room just went silent.  Bogdan stared down at the floor awkwardly.

“Did.. you just slap a woman with child?” Violeta narrowed her eyes on Elena. Elena shrugged casually.

“No. I slapped Violeta Ioana  Dragnuescu Covaci. You forgot who you were. I had to remind you..” With the same hand, Elena wiped the tears from Violeta’s face, in a tender motion before whispering down to her once more.

“There is nothing you cannot do- Now stop whining and push.”

Spoiler: show

Violeta stared at the stirred plot of land. A single Gloom flower rested on top of it. Elena came up behind her and grabbed her hand.

“She was beautiful.”

“She was.”

“He loved you.”

“I know.”


Violeta’s eyes welled up with tears but she didn’t allow them to fall. Elena rested her head and Violeta's shoulder.

“Do you believe in Ezra, Lena?”

“I have to believe in something, Vi. Otherwise, this world is just a nightmare and death is the only way to escape it. So da, I believe. I believe in Ezra.”

Violeta gave a meek little nod at that, continuing to eye the shallow grave.

“She never breathed. Or Cried.”

“But she lived. And She was loved.”

“Da.”

“Vi?”

“Mhm?”

“One day you’ll have to forgive yourself.”

Violeta’s eyes hardened as she stared at the wooden grave plaque placed in the middle of the woods. It read “Luminita Elena Covaci.” Her eyes glanced to another grave resting beside it, just as shallow, just as recent that read “Bogdan Daniel Covaci.”  She lifted the shovel, covering the plaques under the earth before she turned away.

[TherapyCat]

Dreams.
We all have them.
Usually, for them to form, they require sleep or ambition.

Spoiler: show

“This is your dream Violeta, I’d like it if you took this a bit more seriously.” Sabina tapped Violeta’s shoulders with a stick. “You can have better posture than that. Iadul.”



Violeta considered the words, visibly distracted. “My dream.”

“Yes. Your dream. This is your ticket out of all of this.” Sabina motioned about the room. “But nobody is just going to hand it to you. You’ll have to claw yourself out of it.” Sabina paused, frowned a moment as she circled in front of the music stand. “It’s your way to get away from me… Your dream.”


Violeta frowned deeply, hanging her head. “That was never my dream, Mother.”

Sabina inclined her head regarding Violeta a moment. “Well. It should be. Start at measure 46, and try not to look dead this time, hm?”

Spoiler: show

Violeta had the same dream ever since she was a child. On the rare occasion, she got to sleep, that is. It always started the same way, she’d be wearing a white nightgown, she would be barefoot and dancing, under the pale moonlight, by herself. Flowers would be entwined in her hair and, dirt would be smeared across her skin. There would be no music, but her feet would find the rhythm to the silent song. The only noise would be her own laughter in the crisp night air. It was an intricate dance, one she was never taught, with delicate spins and languid arm movements, swanlike almost. There would be this moment where she would bow down to the earth, and see her reflection inside of a puddle. Upon seeing her reflection, the forest would become black and gloomy, haunted by a rapid decay. The Flowers within her hair would become assassin vines and wrap around her throat. Her reflection wouldn't be her own, it would be someone familiar and older. The last words that Violeta would ever speak before meeting her demise would be “I’m not you.” Once Violeta had fallen to the ground, the silent forest would sing, but not a song she had ever heard. It would be a woman singing, low and haunting, the lament of a Siren.

Spoiler: show

Lies, we all tell them.
Big or little,
Damaging or harmless.
It’s a simple fact of life.
Some people do it out of habit,
Others do it to simply survive.
Violeta?
She did it because it was easier than the truth,
Or perhaps it was more entertaining,
Perhaps it was because the lie put her in a more flattering light,
Maybe it was to protect someone she loved?
Herself?
Or was it because she simply couldn’t remember what the truth sounded like.
Did she ever really know it?


My husband died of a plague.
It was a sudden sickness..
He died protecting me from the nopate
He died in a freak storm.
He died in a shipwreck.
He died on a hunting trip.
He was murdered.

There was truth in at least part of these lies.
He was indeed dead.
It was simply how he died that Violeta could never be completely honest about. Even with herself, because the moment she admitted that was what had truly happened? Was the moment she’d have to come to terms with the fact that she believed it was her fault.

She never could quite stomach that.

Spoiler: show

She had spent her life dedicated to other people's dreams, telling herself that they were her own, and now she had no idea how to dream for herself.

Bogdan didn’t ruin her dreams, Sabina didn’t ruin them.

There were no dreams to ruin.

[TherapyCat]

Violeta Hated The Color Black.

Spoiler: show

I despise wearing black.” Violeta protested as she stood in front of her mirror. Her mother would come up behind her, to lace a corset. Violeta would wince slightly at her mother's merciless tugging.


“Da, Well. I did not ask and you have to wear it.”

“..Father’s favorite color was green. I remember him saying that,” Violeta muttered softly, as her mother continued to pace around the young woman in circles, correcting every flaw. A blemish there, too much gut sticking out there, a  rogue hair, and the list seems to be bottomless.

“Funerals are rarely for the dead. You are wearing black and that is final.”


A knock at the door would be the nonverbal announcement that the funeral was starting. Adrian was not a popular man by any means, marrying Sabina nearly promised that the man would have very few allies. But a half dozen of his so-called “friends” piled into the tenement room. Shortly after,  Dragos and Violeta’s friend group would shuffle through the door, they were preteens now, that stage where a child wants to become an adult, and yet they have little understanding of what that means, but still, the sentiment sounds rather nice.

Sabina wore her guilt and shame well. The woman always carried herself with grace. In many ways, Sabina was Violeta’s first director, teaching her to conceal the emotions she felt and showcase the ones in which that were more favorable. Sabina would call this “carrying oneself with grace.” Violeta would consider it “Wearing a mask, and hoping not to get caught.”
Both were correct. Sabina stepped around the room, greeting guests, giving warm little smiles, and personable hugs. Violeta never told anyone exactly how Sabina treated her because until she was taken away, nobody would believe her.  Sabina was the actress that Violeta never wanted to become.

Violeta took her seat. Bogdan would say something and touch her arm. She didn’t hear it. Dragos would give her a silent hug, she was too numb to feel it. Claudia would make some offensive comments, it didn’t phase her. And of course, Elena would cry, but Violeta could care less.

She’d simply sit, staring at an old wooden sword that had “Caporal Dragunescu” carved into it, and a tear rolled down her cheek as she came to the stark realization, that her world would always be this sea of darkness, because her father was dead.

Spoiler: show

Violeta sat in a closet, hugging her legs to her chest, as she sobbed quietly, the light from underneath the door was dim, and the closet was cold. It was dark, it was black.
Her frame shook, and her breath was caught, every time she tried to calm herself, it only got worse. The lock on the door never jiggled, and the creeks of the floorboards never deafened as her parents paced about the tenements fighting.


“She’s Not a monster Sabina, She is A Child!” Adrian would shout at Sabina. Sabina would laugh bitterly, the sound of furniture scooting about.

“Oh?! Isn’t she? What child that behaves as she does, huh Adrian, hm?”

“Listen, We Knew that this would be a possibility, but you cannot punish her for this..”

Sabina would Scoff.

“You’re right, I should punish you.”

Adrian would lower his voice, his tone giving away to the fact that the man was wounded.

“What are you going to do Sabina?”

“Leave. I don’t have to live this life, this miserable life with you. With her. You promised me more than this.”

Violeta would memorize the sound of a dresser rummaging, a suitcase clasping after being filled, the sound of a husband pleading, and the sound of a door being slammed. Violeta would memorize the sound of a man weeping, and praying to a god that never answered. The huff of air as the man pushed himself off the floor and opened the door of the closet to find his daughter shivering. She would memorize the way his lips would part to utter the words

“You’re not a monster.”

And how badly she wanted to believe him.



And naturally, she’d memorize the second conversation of when Sabina would eventually return, a blackened eye from another's hands, the smell of another man clinging to her person. The paint running from her eyes, and streaking done her face, black.

“Sabrina, You’ve been gone for a week, I was worried sick about you.”

“You’re overdramatic, Adrian.”

“Where did you go?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“I am your husband.”

“Regretfully So.”

“Violeta thinks it’s her fault you can’t keep doing this.”

“I can do what I want.”

“I am your husband.”

“You are a pathetic excuse for a man.”

“Is there… somebody else?”

“There was always somebody else. You never cared.”

“I always cared, I just chose to love you anyway.”

“I wish you didn’t.”

“Well, I do.”

There would be a silence, and then there would be a cacophonic symphony of sounds Violeta wished she was never quite familiar with.

And this is the love she knew and memorized.

[TherapyCat]

"Violeta, does it get better?"

Spoiler: show

[A crumbled up, scribbled piece of parchment in Violeta's wastebin.]

Luminita,

 One of my current suitors at the moment, A good friend of mine told me that he has recently started writing journals. I thought maybe it’s something I could try to do. But aimless writing to myself seems somewhat silly, not that writing to a dead child is anymore more reasonable…. I don’t think I’m starting this off right.

Hi. I’m Violeta. I’m mamă. Right. You’d be nearly five now. My mamă , your  uh.. Bunica Sabina… one time stated that children would ruin my career… be slightly distracting, but I think about how much fun it would be to tote you around the theatre, save you a seat at the performances, have my staff spoil you with attention and love. I think about all the dresses I’d sew for you, we could match. That would be quite the spectacle. I think about all the trouble you’d get into, and while I would have to apologize to the noble women I’d secretly find it funny-- I’d be obviously somewhat disappointed.

I wonder if you’d be proud of me. I think naturally all children are my own mother was a monster- unique and I still adored her, wanted to be her.

I know I’d be proud of you.
In a way, even though you never breathed I still was. Am.

You existed in this world,
And you came from my womb.
That was all it took.

Violeta pondered the question for a considerable amount of time. The simple answer is No. It doesn't. Life doesn't get better. Life waxes and wanes. It gets better for a time, and then returns to a state of denial. It was a never ending cycle. So no it didn't get better. But it didn't get worse. It would become different, but the same. But when it was awful it was only a certain amount of time before the phase would pass, and a new one would begin.

Spoiler: show

Violeta glanced to a stage, before turning warmly to her conversation. "I'm quite proud of her." she muttered, smiling up to the performer. "Why is that?" her conversational partner asked her. Without a pause, Violeta answered confidently "She does the things that would scare me, she chases her dreams without an apology or without hesitation. She's everything I wished I could be." The woman eyed Violeta strangely. "And you are not jealous?" Violeta shook her head. "No. I'm too  busy watching her shine to worry about that."

We are all aware of this cycle, but when it takes a turn for the worse, we all act surprised, we hate the turning of life on it's axis, we curse it's name, even. We start to wish we could have the day without night, and the spring without winter. 

Spoiler: show

  Violeta stood in the mirror, looking at how the ink on her arm had faded. She looks at the Calendar. Eyeng the date.  The upcoming date. October 28th. It would've been a five year anniversary. Would have been.

This is the cycle.

Spoiler: show

"This day we honor Adrian Dragunescu...."
"Violeta Dragunescu will you Marry me?"
"It's a girl!"
"She's not breathing."
"Here lies Luminita..."
"I Always loved you."
"Here lies Bogdan.."
"There's a job opening."
"You're not who you say you are."
"You're so beautiful."
"You couldn't run if you tried."
"I'm proud of you Violeta."
"We're taking your mother away."
"Here lies Elena.."
"The Luna Circus is Hiring."
"Dragos, I'm leaving home."
"my Name is Anica."
"My Name is Zujenia."
"Have some Opium."
"Zujenia, will you marry me?"
"You should'nt love me."
"We can make it work."
"We can't make it work."
"Welcome to the Garda."
"Leave the Garda."
"Welcome to the mist camp."
"We don't need another musician."
"Here's five thousand fangs."
"You nearly died."
"The Theatre De La Cathedrale Is Hiring."
"Turnip Girl."
"I'm Arsene."
"I'm Zujenia."
"I'm Xiao."
"I'm Violeta."
"I'm Alex."
" I've been standing on my feet for six hours."
"Auditions for the Opera."
"Never seen an Opera."
"Get cast in the Opera."
"Duncan?"
"Perform as second chair."
"Blunderbuss."
"You look beautiful."
"Cover you shoulders."
"You are now assistant manager."
"You likely cheated to get where you are."
"You will be the Diva in this Opera."
"Only because the lead quit."
"Come to this dinner."
"This is my friend."
"You're so exotic!"
"You're just another dumb barovian."
"Host your first event."
"ten people show up."
"Establish a theatre family."
"Feel jealous every time you see a woman with child."
"Become co-manager."
"Nobody respects you."
"Fall in love."
"That kiss meant nothing."
"Find your soulmate."
"she moves."
"Start a new relationship."
"He doesn't seem all the interested."
"Hi, I'm lindy."
"You clearly have a favorite."
"Try to gain respect."
"Get walked over."
"stand up for yourself."
"Get punished for it."
"Be creative."
"Be Silent."
"Be appealing."
"Be modest."
"Be Violeta."
"Be Zujenia."
"Be yourself."
"Stop."
"I'm proud of her."
"Why don't you notice me instead?"
"I appreciate you."

"I don't love you."

Violeta couldn't promise that life would get better or worse, she didn't know obviously.

But she could get promise that it would continue in this cycle.

She hoped that was reassuring enough.

[TherapyCat]

Violeta hated chess.

Spoiler: show

She was never good at it, and that was partly why she hated it. Violeta enjoyed doing only the things that she excelled at. The things that would earn her praise from her mother, from her peers, and chess was not one of those activities.

She sat across from Bogdan, resting on the shores of the Luna river , in between rested a wooden board he had made from hand, the squares were jagged, disproportionate, and the pieces themselves were random pieces of rubbish. Bogdan didn’t take the time to teach Violeta the rules, and she suspected they likely changed depending on the game they were playing. Bogdan wasn’t the type that enjoyed losing, and before she knew better, Violeta wasn’t the type to be competitive.

“Ha! My Lance-corpal takes your peasant, again!”

he boasted triumphantly, sliding knight across the board, dramatically sending violeta’s pawn into orbit. Violeta’s eyes were easily distracted by the water, watching the river  creep it’s edges onto the surface of the banks. The otters chittering in conversation, oblivious to their presence, she thought about how in this moment, how still the world seemed. Even though she was young, she was old enough to know that moments like these were to be treasured.

“Da. you did.” She comments eventually, giving him a distracted smile. She moves a random piece, seeming to hold no real attachment to any of them. Bogdan continued to hover over the board, deep in thought, plotting his next attack, his next move. Violeta watched him quietly, she envied his mind to a degree, that he already was confident in his current move that he could plot his next one. Violeta could barely focus on the present, much less prepare for the future.

Her disdain for chess never changed, despite who sat at the opposite end of the board.


It  became a societal expectation nonetheless, to participate, to play the games even if you had no interest in joining them, even if you had no hope in winning them. Every time Violeta opened her mouth in dementlieu, she was making a move across the board. A hopeless pawn, hoping that somehow she will reach the other side of the board and get the respect she was desperately craving. She considered such a task a suicide mission, constantly looking over her shoulder, checking for an impending attack, she figured if she was quiet enough, unimposing enough, peaceful enough that she could sneak by, undetected.

But it was rare for violeta to venture unnoticed.

And even when she devoted her time to learning the game, to get better at it. To seem like she was a worthy opponent, she would still find herself, at a loss. Muttering “Good game” across a shameful massacre of her own pieces, with a thin lipped smile, and the smallest dip of her head she could muster. And Once she was confident in her own actions, and dared to be bold, she could never predict what her opponent would throw in her direction.

All it would take would be a simple

"violeta, Stay."

For her to change her entire tactic, to lay down her guard completely. To allow herself to not only be defeated but to be properly won. She despised playing these games, because it was so rare  she won any sort of power from them. It was more than often the opposite.

But yet, she would find herself, sitting at a table, staring at the disorientating collection of black and white squares  readying her pieces.

Her greatest insanity was that she knew she hated the game, but continued to play it anyways.

because she thought eventually,

she'd win.

[TherapyCat]

Violeta sat across from her mother at her kitchen table. Sabina eyed her critically, her fingers tapping across the surface of the table in a rhythmic procession.

"Having this child will ruin you. This is a terrible, terrible decision."

"I have made this decision. This is my life, when are you going to let me live it?"

Violeta sat across from a  girl.

"Why do you want to do this? How do you think this is going to change your life?"

"This is my decision."

Her mother's eyes cut into her.

"You will regret this decision."

"I don't think I will."

Violeta sighed deeply.

"This decision will not be worth it."

"I'm not on trial."

Sabina raised herself from the table, an audible smack was given across Violeta's cheek.

Violeta raised from the table. A chair was hurled into the distance.

Violeta stared at her mother wordlessly. She didn't have to say the words, sabina knew that she was a monster.

The girl stared at violeta wordlessly. She didn't have to say a word for Violeta to know she was a monster.

"I do this out of love." Sabina would tell her daughter after.

"... She didn't listen when I was soft." Violeta told her husband after.

Every time violeta had thought she had broken the cycle.
It turned out to just be a circle.
No end, no beginning.
Seemingly just the ways things had always been,
And would always be.


She wanted to believe the things people told her.
"It's not your fault. It's the curse, that's why you acted this way."
But when the horizon is split inbetween night and day,

Who is left to blame?


Violeta always told herself that she'd be better.
She thought it. She said it.
She dreamt it.
She prayed it.
But when the moment came, she failed.
Miserably.

And she knew that.

And she hated herself for it.

[TherapyCat]

Part I : Death

"Death Conquers the Lovers."

Spoiler: show

Claudia boasted confidently as she placed her card in justapixtion to Violeta's. Violeta quirked her lips as she considered the statement. The barovian  gaggle of teenagers had spent the day creating this game from a grouping of cards they had never quite seen before. Innocent, and oblivious in nature the cards were to them.

"Hold on-" Bogdan started, glancing between the group. "That's not a rule we made."

"Well, we agreed that Death Conquers everything else? Why shouldn't Death overcome the lovers?" Dragos chimed in, bumping Elena with his shoulders. How he favored her. Elena's cheeks would flush, before she too, found the time to comment.

"One might say that love conquers all." She mused jovially.

Violeta continued to stare between the cards.

"We've all lost someone we loved." she starts after a moment, her gaze pensive as her eyes flood about her childhood home. If it was a pathetic excuse for an upbringing, it was the only one she had ever known. She releases a sigh. "And that love for them didn't die with them."

Silence suddenly fell over the room, The other teens shuddered in horror as they started towards the doorway. Violeta had her back turned in the opposite direction, oblivious.

"How profound." Sabina would chime coldly, as she leaned against the doorway. Violeta would squirm to her feet, as would the rest of the grouping. All the other children knew not to lock eyes with Sabina. All of them, except Bogdan. He knew what Sabina did to Violeta. Even if Violeta never said the words. She didn't need to. He knew.

"Buna Zuia, Domna Dragunescu." He'd offer to Sabina, attempting to cut the ever-present tension.

Sabina always looked at Bogdan like he was dirt and nothing else. A barovian would never be good enough for her daughter.

"Leave. At Once. All of you." she stated in an even tone, the aspiring adults would obey in silence, their eyes resting on Violeta as they exited. Bogdan was the last to. He clearly didn't want to leave. But nobody ever challenged Sabina.

Sabina would walk over slowly, relatively calm as she breezed past Violeta to collect the Tarot cards. Shuffling them several times, her nails flicking over the cards and making a harsh, rhythmic tapping noise. Eventually, she'd shift her gaze over to the girl. Violeta stood still like a stone, terrified to move. To speak, to defend herself. Sabina would reach out a hand, cupping her face. Her eyes someone soft, but hollow inside. Nothing quite genuine. Her lips would part to speak down to Violeta.

"What did I tell you, about going through my things?"

Violeta remained silent. Sabina snapped then, shaking her by the arm.

"Answer me!"

Violeta started to speak, her voice stuttering.

"You-You told me to never touch your things."

Sabina would fade back into her soothing, gentler tones as she shifted her hand to rake her fingers through Violeta's hair.

"That's Right. Good Violeta." She'd coo, before releasing her, her eyes diverting back to the cards.

"I am harsh. I am Serious. I am callous because these cards are not a game." she started.

"Fate is not to be a pastime created and played with by children." Sabina hummed in thought, shifting away. Violeta paused as if not expecting her mother to comment on the cards themselves, or their origin.


"The cards are tradition. The Cards are a part of a culture that doesn't belong to you. And never will. The Cards are Sacred. And you are not worthy of them. Of their knowledge. Of Their secrets." Sabina continued to muse, before flipping the first card. She'd take a nail, and pin it to the wall.

"But since you are so.. Insistent. Let this be your fate. The One you have chosen. The One you have challenged. The one you have danced with as an idle game. Let this be the epitome of your existence. This is all you should ever know because this is all you deserve. The cards have spoken, not me. This is to be your fate."

Violeta's emerald eyes watered as she took in the sight of the card staring at her.
She knew her mother was right.
This was a fate she'd never escape.

A page in the Violeta's Lilac Hoarding Binder.
She was no poet, but when asked to write for an old Event at the Theatre de la Cathedrale, the words seem to come rather easily to her.

Spoiler: show

They tell me to be soft,  Like the silk that blankets my curves,
And like the honey tinge that rests on the vowels of their words
They tell me to be kind,
Like the nourishment of water
Or forgiving like the promise of another season, another breath.
And It is not that I don’t search for these things
Because I do.
Like an animal on the brink of starvation I desperately
Search for the knowledge to fathom not only what they say
But the motivation to become the role they wish for me to portray.
And every time I catch a reflection of myself within the mirror
She is not soft, she is not kind, and she is not forgiving.
She is not anything of the things that I once wrote for her to be
What happened to my rough draft?
Because now she is frigid, she is wary,
With she sings, it is not one of velvet, but instead an ode to decay
When she speaks it is venomous, it rarely harbors truth.
She is not forgiving like the seasons, she is a  cacophonous storm,
The only thing she promises is destruction.
And I ask her.
What happened to your rough draft!?
Where is the young girl who wanted to write symphonies,
Who was a recollection of everyone who she ever loved?
Who wore her heart on her sleeve, and a smile on her visage?
Did she die when you buried a father?
A Husband?
A Friend?
A child?
Has she escaped you?
Can she ever be found again?
Did she.. Ever exist?

She couldn't escape it.

Spoiler: show

Violeta had to remember the names. If she didn't. Who would?
Ever morning. She'd write them on a slip of paper.

Adrian, Bogdan, Luminita, Elena, and Anica.

She couldn't escape it.

Spoiler: show

"This is the card that would be the source of conflict." The oracle promised Violeta, as she turned over the card. The card she couldn't escape. A slow glance to her beloved husband.

"To the end." they had promised each other. "Let love conquer all." she prayed for herself.

But Violeta wasn't a religious woman.


She was a cursed one.

And She Couldn't Escape it.

[TherapyCat]

Part II: The Hanged Man

"You have to let the past go." the oracle prompted Violeta as she stared at the card.

 How could she? It seemed with every turn that her life was a bookend, and perhaps she wrote it that way.

Spoiler: show

"I like the name Luminita." she smiled over her shoulder to Bogdan, as she folded garments over the kitchen table, her cheeks spread with evident joy despite the task within her fingertips.

Bogdan would give a lopsided smile, wondering over to place his chin on her shoulder, eyeing her hands as she worked. "Luminita, huh? Can't say I've ever met a Luminita. I like it. You know, we could call her Lumi for short."

"Da, that's what I was thinking." Her cheeks flushed, and as her smile grew, she was unbelievably happy. Bogdan reached over, silently taking the cloth from her hands, and turning him to face her. He brushed the hair out of her face with a wide smile, just locking eyes with her in a grateful, pensive stare.

"What are you looking at?" Violeta prompted.

"My Dream." He stated with clear confidence, placing a kiss on her forehead before pulling away. He gathered his things to leave, and departed at the door for another day of labor, his eyes clinging to her as long as his vision would permit. 

Spoiler: show

"How are you feeling?" became a question that Violeta's peers and loved ones asked her daily as the news of her second pregnancy took the streets of Dementileu. Unlike most of Violeta's secrets, she couldn't bury this one, and deny all plausibility. Not that she wanted to. She was excited, again to be a mother. She knew that the person she choose to be its father was the best choice she likely could've made. She knew that they were financially stable and that the child would be relatively safe. She loved to stand in front of the mirror, and watch her body slowly change over time, like a piece of art that was constantly being added to, a fully collaborative experience.

But there was some fear.

Okay. There was a lot of fear.

She was afraid some days, to leave the Hotel room. To venture anywhere else other than the Hotel and Fleur d'Ambre. She never voiced this fear. She knew what people would say. "The streets are safe."  or perhaps "Virgil wouldn't let anything happen to you." or "Violeta why would anyone want to hurt you?."


But Violeta had failed once before.
And she swore to herself, that it wouldn't happen again.



"Mother you came." Violeta's eyes shined for a brief moment, as she opened the door to her and Bogdan's "Home." As per usual Sabina's eyes were overly critical as they raked over the dingy presentation of their living quarters.


"Yes. I… came. This…This is where you are living?" her nose scrunched up as she walked over to the windowsill, scraping dust off with her finger in disgust.

"Da!" Violeta chimed happily, she never saw it as poverty, she only saw the opportunity the space had. The potential.

Sabina took a stabilizing breath, turning to Violeta with a calculated tone. "I thought I explained this to you. In Vivid detail, I told you what would happen if you married a Barovian. Did I not?"

Violeta frowned briefly, her eyes challenging the woman, insulted. "Yes, but this is just the start, Me and Bo are going to fix it up, real nice, and if you just give us time--."


"Time." Sabina considered, eyeing Violeta's midsection. "Is that /thing/ going to permit you more time? You're the size of Vallaki, Violeta."

Violeta frowned deeply. She shook her head several times, as she pulled a teapot from the stove, approaching Sabrina. "...You're no better than me Mother. You've lived this life. Why are you being so Callous? I invite you into my home, my home me and Bogdan worked hard for. Why aren't you proud?"

Sabina seethed at the rebuttal, her hands shaking as she raised them to gesture about the room. "You were supposed to be better! I gave you every opportunity to be better, and what? You threw it away to be some-- some malnourished housewife!? Why do you think I poured hours into you. Why do you think I sacrificed everything to throw you on any stage I could find? You…You were supposed to be better."

Violeta's eyes clouded, and she retreated to set the teapot back on the table.

"...Well maybe I'm not better Mother, but I am happy." she protested quietly, dejected despite the statement.

"Happy." Sabrina scoffed. "Happy does not linger in this world, Violeta. Look around. Grow up. For the Love of Ezra."

"....I think you should go." Violeta prompted, staring down at her hands in disdain.

"Gladly." Sabrina shifted over towards the door, prompting Violeta to unlock it. She did. Sabrina stood on the other side. She took a breath and calmed. Looked at Violeta with conflicted eyes. She motioned the girl closer, her arms spread out in a hug, an invitation.

Confused, but desperate for her mother's approval, she took the embrace, resting there a moment.

Sabrina leaned down and whispered into her ear.

"...When you are playing at the Opera's, you will thank me."

She then sunk her nails into violets forearms, before giving the girl a forceful push down the stairwell.

Spoiler: show

"She's Not Crying. Why isn't she crying!?" Violeta's eyes stared at the ceiling in horror as she scrambled to rest her elbows on the table, desperately trying to see her child that was within Bogdan's grasp.

Silence filled the room, and the youth gathered around the stillborn. They had lived in Barovia their entire lives, but none of them were trained to interpret this horror.

"...Why isn't anyone saying anything?!" She screamed into the void of the room. Nobody answered.

Bogdan stared down at his bloodied hands in disbelief. He pushed the deceased child into Elena's arms as he fled out of the room, tears staining his cheeks. Dragos ran after him. Elena stayed, cradling the lost life within her arms. A solemn, but kind expression. She bit down on her lip hard before speaking.

"She's Beautiful, Violeta."

"Can I see her? Why isn't anyone letting me see her?" she protested, the tears welling down her own face.

"...You did everything right, Vi." Elena offered, ignoring her question as she choked back her own tears.

"...Lena, let me see her."

Elena took a shuddering breath, and slowly extended the lost Luminita out to Violeta.


And in that moment,

Her heart was forcefully broken.

 

Spoiler: show

"Gather Round, Gather Round! For our Next Act, It is the Lovely, It is The Seductive, It Is The Entracing, Zujenia! The Hidden Gem Of The Luna Circus!"

Violeta would enter through the stage side curtain. She had done this routine before. The Short skirts, the jewelry that would jingle, and draw attention. The dark eye paint, and the sultry red lip. It was a career. It paid. She was relatively decent at it. People seemed to like her. Perhaps for a time people even adored her. As Zujenia grew in popularity it became more than a stage name. Zujenia was a lifestyle. Zujenia was a person that existed. That people cared to know the names of. Who was Violeta? Some half barovian seamstress? No. Zujenia was exciting. Zujenia was an excuse to be bold. Daring, Loud. Zujenia had no filter, she could say what was on her mind. What she believed, what she wanted. Men adored Zujenia, Women hated her. It was thrilling being her. Zujenia lived by no rules, no confinements. No restrictions. 

When the Luna Circus died, Zujenia tried to keep the act going. The look, the attitude, the persona. But as time faded, so did praise. Mist Camp performances started to become a rarity. Performers were flocking to port. The big city of arts. Where dreams came true.

Zujenia waltzed into port, with her choppy frizzy hair,  adorned with her gem encrusted corsets, her thigh-high boots, and her wild stage makeup pressed onto her face. Zujenia survived a total of ten minutes before the city and inhabitants changed her. Rejected her completely. And with that, Violeta had to re-emerge again.

To have a career Violeta had to be somewhat docile. Reserved. Filtered. Sure, men like Scarlat were allowed to have public displays of emotion, but he was a man. People would claim that he was a "Passionate artist defending himself." Whereas Violeta would've been painted as "Overemotional."  The longer she stayed in the city, the more these social occurrences become relevant to her. And despite how hard she tried to gain the public's approval, she still graced any scandal paper to ever exist. There were days when Violeta wanted so desperately to be Zujenia. To stand up, to speak her mind, to stop all the boring idle prattle on the terraces, but she knew she couldn't. Zujenia couldn't be in opera. Zujenia couldn't operate theatres. Zujenia would've been outcasted from this society, as much as Violeta would've been from the circus.

Perhaps Zujenia was never a part of her completely, yet she longed for the girl she knew she could never be again.

 
As time faded, she stopped wearing the Gloomflowers in her hair.

She was trying. 

Even if it never equated to much.

[TherapyCat]

Part III- The Moon

Violeta would like to say that she has been getting better. The truth is there was no true cure for herself. "Better" would imply that her condition was improving, and to say that would be a gross miscalculation. Violeta was getting smarter perhaps. More Methodical. Even so, it failed to change the result.

She had a routine at least. When it came that time, she would hand off her infant to her husband. She'd kiss his cheek, and set aside a portion of tocana he had made into to separate little bowls. Enough portions to last the duration of the event. She'd plan out her work properly, so her aliment wouldn't allow herself to get behind. And when the door of the art house, closed, she'd make the same journey down to Endrigian. Purchase the same key, and trap herself within the same room throughout the three days. And it was a secret. Her secret. She wasn't ignorant. She was sure a few people suspected. A few people gossiped. But she also reasoned only a handful of people cared.

Wars were being fought. People are being murdered. Lives are being lost. She felt guilty that she felt relieved the attention never lingered on her.


----

The fortune teller motioned to the card. Her fingernail tapped against its surface. Violeta's face paled when it came into vision.

"The Moon Reversed indicates that you have been dealing with illusion, fears, and anxiety…You may try to bury these feelings even deeper within your subconscious so you can avoid your dark shadows."
---

Night I

Spoiler: show

Alone within the room. Violeta sat on the dresser. Her legs hanging down freely. Her dress parted to expose her legs as she sat comfortably. She was alone. The facade of being the organized socialite was paused, and she could be what she truly was- a mess. She hated being stuck in the inn room for hours on end. Unable to concentrate. Unable to be productive. Violeta was many things, but being lazy was not within her vocabulary. These three days, and three nights, drained her for a variety of reasons.
She missed her husband. Her son. The comfort of their home. She felt like an outcast, a criminal, an animal within a  cage, but she knew it was better this way. Safer this way. Beyond the sentimental, she missed the petty things. Like terrace gossip, and attending memorial events for people she never met. Three days, was a subtle lifetime within Dementlieu. Vincent was growing rapidly, changing every day in minute ways, and not at all to the outside eye. But when she'd return from her hiatus, she'd feel guilty. Guilt for the hair that curled on his head in her absence, and guilt for the tears she wasn't there to wipe away.

That didn't stop the visions from happening. Visions perhaps is a gracious word to use for the demented flashbacks of her past that she would see, and the hauntings of what could be assumed to be her future becoming more apparent. During her last full moon hiatus, Violeta was greeted by a triad of illusions. Each one played out before her in that townhouse inn-room.


"You're just like me." a voice echoed across the walls of the inn room. Violeta jumped and rose to her feet instantly, her hand reaching for her rapier.


"Ah-ah. Surely you wouldn't use that on your mother?" the melodic voice would give a shrill little laugh, that of a comical villain before Sabrina would emerge from the shadows. She'd wander over, her hands would frame Violeta's face. It felt warm, it felt wrong, but even the illusion of the action felt morally indigent. Violeta would turn her head away, sharply. Muttering quickly like a madman.

"No.. I'm Not.. No I'm not." Her hands would raise and cup her ears, as she repeated this little verse, as a means to ground herself.

"Oh... But you are." the voice boomed with utmost certainty, as she drew Violeta closer to her chest in a warm embrace. "You and I are cut from the same cloth. Some women aren't destined to be good mothers. Just don't have it in them."

"What are you talking about!?---I- I love my son. I adore him. He is everything that I have ever wanted." She states breathlessly, her body shaking at rage at even the slightest implication that she didn't.

Sabrina hummed in thought. Her hands traced down Violeta's shoulders. Her arms were down to her hands. "And yet sometimes you look at him and feel empty."

"That's not- that's not true." Violeta stuttered a fraction, the tears pooling down from her eyes and down her face.

"Oh but it is. It's why you're constantly striving for more. You have no friends. You have no hobbies other than the one I gifted you. So you try to fill your life with frivolous things. Marriage. Children. Gold. Gowns."

"You know nothing of my marriage nor my family!" Violeta's voice raised, at the woman who never existed in that room.

Sabrina gave a cold chuckle. As she parted from her daughter, crossing away from her to lounge on the bed in a small triumph from the reaction she elicited. "Don't I? Let's see… incredibly gifted musician marries a quiet, humble, Boravian man that can cook. They get married.. Have a child.. And then oh wait-- this is my favorite part. I carried a child for nine months, take care of it tirelessly just for it-- to idolize their father more."

Violeta paused, as the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. She choked on a small sob. Sabrina gave a crooked smile as she sat up to watch her.

"What's the problem dear? Too honest?"

"...Sometimes I feel like Vincent is staring through me." she admitted, quietly. "..Sometimes I feel like he hates me. When I hold him all he does is scream.. And scream... And cry... And scream with rage. I don't know how his lungs even produce such a cacophony." she lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her face. Sniffing.
"..And sometimes, that feeling is an entirely lonesome experience. Because you can't tell anyone that you believe that a tiny, harmless, perfect human--....hates you. Because they would rush at you with statements like "That's insane, he adores you." or "How can you say that? That's terrible."

"...It's the deepest pain a woman can feel," Sabina admitted quietly. Her persona fading. The woman looks broken, somehow distant. Silence fills the room.

"Mama I never hated you-." Violeta would chirp quietly, but before she could finish her sentence the room was normal again. And Violeta was left alone.

Night II

Spoiler: show

Not all the instances were entirely unpleasant. Just mournfully false. On the second night of no sleep, Violeta lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes felt heavy but they were peeled open like it was something she had to watch.

"Your ass is still fat." chimed Xiao, as she walked through the door of the theatre. She was wearing some fashionable garb. The skin of a zebra was fashioned into a coat, and then died a horrendous shade of lime green. Violeta adored it.

"Your Accent is still off." Violeta would coo fondly to the woman.

Xiao struggled with her assortment of travel bags, which she promptly threw down on the theatre's flooring. An assortment of barovian-looking ragamuffins ran up to embrace her fully. Xiao would give a crazed cackle as she threw her arms up in defense only half joking.

"Nu-Uh-uh! Nope. No! No hugs until the little grimy hands of children are washed. This coat cost more than your mother's theatre!" Xiao bumped the youngest child's nose in adoration. She giggled. Xiao's brows knitted before she looked over to Violeta then, her brows knitted in confusion. "What are you up to now, thirty-seven?"

Violeta snorted. "You can't count to four, Xi?"

"They are moving!" Xiao protested in mirth. "Also you named them all the same thing-- it's very confusing."

Violeta would wave the children off, to get cleaned up. Xiao would cross over to Violeta. Giving her a serious look, the affection clear in her gaze. Her voice lowered.

"Are you happy, Vi?"

"I think if anyone is, I ought to be."

"That was not the most convincing answer in the world."

Violeta paused a moment in thought. Giving a warm, if not overwhelmed smile. Genuine. "They are alot sometimes da. But I am happy."

Xiao scrunched up her face in disbelief. "No. This is Violeta the actress if I've ever seen it."

Violeta narrowed her eyes on her in mirth. "You don't believe I'm happy?"

"I don't know how you could be this is my version of personal torment." she motioned to the theatre. The children's hobbies were thrown across the floor. It was a true mess. "What happened to the Vi that got drunk and flirted with cake barons, and spooned strangers she found on the street and did that very risque thing with Sacha at the---."

"That's enough Xiao!" she gave a VERY nervous laugh before clearing her throat and shrugging.  "Well. I don't know. I guess I changed. Or maybe I didn't. Or maybe I had to.. Perhaps I wanted to."

Xiao looked at her flatly, clapping in front of her face once. "You are stupid, sometimes. It was a simple question. Doesn't matter where that girl went. Probably under baby fat what's important is---" Xiao rummaged in a bag, before pulling out a very large bottle of wine. Her brows wiggled. "Can I summon her tonight!?"

The two women laughed and laughed until that laughter, that joy faded, and Violeta was left alone more on the tavern floor. A deep sigh escaped her, because she knew that this memory never could happen. And she mourned that it never would. She wept until her tears stained her cheeks, and the floor glistened with her remorse.

It was cruel, even if it was never real.

Night III

Spoiler: show

Sometimes the visions were nonsensical. They were random, bursts of emotions or phrases, and they were scattered about in front of her like a puzzle that was incapable of solving because the pieces kept changing. It was an entirely frustrating experience that was known to make her rather.. Violent. 
 
Violeta lifted her nose. She smelt smoke. The room started to fill itself with intensive heat. Her bare feet palmed across the floorboards, and suddenly it felt as if they began to burn. She would bounce between them in sharp pain as she skidded over to the bed. When she placed herself on the bed, the bed was colder than ice. It was frigid, even when she crawled underneath the covers for warmth, there was none to be found. In frustration, she arose and placed the blanket on the ground, so she may stand upon it and not feel the effects of either party. A genius idea-- she thought in truth but it was not in fact at all. Because when she glanced down, the blanket was no longer a blanket at all, but a tombstone… Her own tombstone. All the different last names she had were listed for some strange reason.

"Violeta Dragunescu Covaci Israte."

Then, those names suddenly were covered by a thick pool of blood that smeared over the tombstone and poured over it entirely like a flood of rain. A hand popped up and grabbed Violeta's foot. Then another hand… then another hand, until she was dragged underneath the surface screaming, pleading for mercy.

The underbelly of her grave led her to a basement, where a group of women sat in a circle conversing. She knew all of these women. It was all the women she had wronged throughout her life. Every scorned actor she didn't cast. Every artistic competitor she had overtaken, outshined, or downright sabotaged. Her mother was there. But there was one face. One face she couldn't make out. Nervously, Violeta walked over and tapped the woman on the shoulder. When she did a woman with caramel-colored skin, and black velvet eyes turned to glance at her. The gaze felt entirely familiar.

"Luminita?" Violeta muttered in shock. The woman dipped her head and continued talking. She never saw Violeta there.

"She couldn't have missed me all that much you know. She replaced me. She has a new husband now, and a new baby. It's like I never existed. It's like my father never existed. That's the thing with Violeta-- everyone is entirely temporary and replaceable."

The group nodded in outstanding agreement. Violeta rushed to stand in the center, defending herself. Her voice gets louder with each protest.

"That-- That's not true. I adored you. I have never forgotten you-- I carry the weight of your death with me every day. I feel guilt every time I look at my son for you Luminita, and I never-- i never could forget your father he was my first love but--I."


"I deserve to be happy!" she screamed. The scream was loud. Deafening. The wall shook within the inn room. Several books flew off the shelves and plummeted unto the floor. Violeta's body shook violently as her breath become caught and ragged. She was hyperventilating.

Eventually, her consciousness began to fade as the sun began to rise… she couldn't find anything else to fight anymore.