[The illusion dims to night. The door is still open, but the living space beyond it is dark and lacking the chaos of the day. Myeongwoo's figure vanishes, replaced by a teenage girl twirling around to show off her pajamas: a matching blue button-up top and pants covered in adorable round chicks. Lethe knows she only got them because they reminded her of Chirpie. She had gotten a set for everyone; in this memory he had been grudgingly wearing his own grey set. They were comfortable, and it made her happy. It was all the reason he needed to indulge it from time to time.
Her eyes sparkle with delight at seeing them all cutely match; her sapphire earrings catch a nonexistent light source and make the room feel bright in spite of the night. Both of her feet are, for once, touching the floor. They need to be, because she's helping a young boy twirl with her. The current purpose of this goodnight routine is to show off his matching pajamas, which are, for some reason, pink. Combined with his fluffy pink hair, it has the effect of making him look a bit like a ball of cotton candy. But it's cute. They're cute kids. Their enthusiasm is infectious. Both of them keep spinning and spinning until the kid gets too dizzy to continue.
When the whole routine is done they hop onto the bed to give him a hug; his hands pass through the illusions, just a bit, but he focuses on their smiles as they reluctantly head out the door to their own rooms.]
[The doorway is dark and empty by the time he lets the illusion fade. This time he spreads it out onto the bed instead, creating a small menagerie of animals: a brightly colored snake made of jewels, curled up around a round ball of fluff that just might be a bird, and a miniaturized horned flame lion. There's no heat radiating off of the little lion, which makes the illusion feel weaker overall. The way he sticks his paw up and cutely begs for cuddles with his eyes sort of makes up for it, though.
He lets the illusion linger. There's no weight on the bed, no awkward bumping and rustling and nudging monsters for space, no soft sleepy noises as they all settle down and drift off to sleep. But it's been a while since he was at home, in his own bed, with all of them, so the gentle tug of homesickness doesn't hit especially hard.]
[Eventually, the scene fades. A brief picture spreads out across the empty half of his room, springing to life as he thinks of it: his little brother sitting on a couch, the coffee table in front of him adorned with a small birthday cake and twenty-one flickering candles.
Lethe pushes that illusion away, pulling up one that is just his brother standing at the door like he's come to make sure that he's going to bed. There's a soft smile on his face and the sharp edges that he usually wears are worn away. One eye is deep red, like the center of a fire that refuses to go out; he watches the red eye fade into black as a tiny red salamander pulls itself out of his eye to settle on his shoulder instead. The illusion carries no warmth with it, but his memory supplies what he knows ought to be there. Nostalgia and longing make him look a little younger, a little brighter, a little cuter than he might normally be.]
[The illusion flickers, and his little brother is taller, older. Irin is gone. His clothes are different; his skin is deathly pale. An illusion has no need for breath, but there's a wrongness to the lack of it. The eyes looking back at him are exceptionally dark; the sword in his hand is the only thing that gives off light. There's snow clinging to his shoulders and the creases of his coat.
The soft smile is still there. It's still the same.]
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Her eyes sparkle with delight at seeing them all cutely match; her sapphire earrings catch a nonexistent light source and make the room feel bright in spite of the night. Both of her feet are, for once, touching the floor. They need to be, because she's helping a young boy twirl with her. The current purpose of this goodnight routine is to show off his matching pajamas, which are, for some reason, pink. Combined with his fluffy pink hair, it has the effect of making him look a bit like a ball of cotton candy. But it's cute. They're cute kids. Their enthusiasm is infectious. Both of them keep spinning and spinning until the kid gets too dizzy to continue.
When the whole routine is done they hop onto the bed to give him a hug; his hands pass through the illusions, just a bit, but he focuses on their smiles as they reluctantly head out the door to their own rooms.]
Goodnight, Yerim. Goodnight, Gyeol.
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He lets the illusion linger. There's no weight on the bed, no awkward bumping and rustling and nudging monsters for space, no soft sleepy noises as they all settle down and drift off to sleep. But it's been a while since he was at home, in his own bed, with all of them, so the gentle tug of homesickness doesn't hit especially hard.]
Goodnight, Velare. Goodnight, Chirpie. Goodnight, Peace.
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Lethe pushes that illusion away, pulling up one that is just his brother standing at the door like he's come to make sure that he's going to bed. There's a soft smile on his face and the sharp edges that he usually wears are worn away. One eye is deep red, like the center of a fire that refuses to go out; he watches the red eye fade into black as a tiny red salamander pulls itself out of his eye to settle on his shoulder instead. The illusion carries no warmth with it, but his memory supplies what he knows ought to be there. Nostalgia and longing make him look a little younger, a little brighter, a little cuter than he might normally be.]
Goodnight, Irin. Goodnight, Yoohyun.
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The soft smile is still there. It's still the same.]
...Goodnight, Yoohyun.
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Lethe turns his back to the door, closes his eyes, and goes to bed.]