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tampered2006-11-27 09:00 pm
2nd-dream-king.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-11-27 09:00 pm
Log; Complete
When; Nov. 25 (daytime)
Rating; PG (imagery, vice)
Characters; Guardian (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
singingguardian), Daniel (2nd_dream_king)
Summary; the fleet footed one gets a visit from someone offering to ease her dreams
Log;
Turkeys. Guardian had decided that they were nothing less that horrid. The waves had come, day and night whenever they felt like, but they were quickly dispatched and she was growing more annoyed than challenged. Insulted, really. It only made the apartment terribly messy and soaked that horrid sick odor into the carpet, permeating the air with that putrid reminder of what the ignorant, stupid primates were oh-so callously shoveling into their mouths.
A yawn of distaste as the back of her necks bristled. A fate of fates: She was dead and trapped on a planet full of apes and dullards.
Unable to sleep once again, a flash of gold flickering along the back of her eyelids threatening to take her should she leave them closed for too long, she had occupied herself with scrubbing. At least the turkeys had the odd decency of allowing herself a rest period, or what would have been a rest period. Her last decent sleep came from when she was deliriously injured and poisoned by primitive projectile weapons. And that blood staining the carpet, it wasn't coming up, even when she put both her forelegs into it.
Grunt. She would have to look into that cleaner suggestion after all.
---
Whether it was a buzzer from the lobby or a simple doorknocker, someone came calling at the dragonhorse's apartment. Whatever the case he followed by wrapping his knuckles on the wood, thrice. A man dressed in white jeans and a white shirt topped with white hair and very black glasses, one lens cracked, stood on the other side. Sometimes he felt like a mafia enforcer, running errands like this for the boy. The much shorter Daniel Hall looked no different from a teenaged boy, his golden hair wavy and slightly unkempt, t-shirt with faded print falling below the waist of his jeans. Green eyes did a shoe-gaze briefly before he looked to the door once more and his loyal phantom knocked again.
---
Somehow, Guardian retained the knowledge that it was not turkeys trying to bash the door down again but these were from a human, performing the unwritten custom of "knocking" to request entrance. Otherwise she would have responded harshly; she had visitors, if what she had scented was right. Very faint but two distinct sources.
She stopped scrubbing, unsure if she should cover the mess or discard the rag to the side, but who was she to be doing something as silly as housekeeping? She was a warrior. The rag was discarded somewhere subtle and she trotted to the door, one head opening it, the other to peak.
The two on the other side were greeted by a one-eyed serpent, the white tufts making it seem as if could not decide if it had wanted to be a lion instead. Its nostrils quivered a bit as it sniffed, although remembering that humans were not to be sniffed as if they were puppeteers -- it was a practiced ritual reserved for members of her own species and the primates considered it rude; she knew better anyway and she was far from a simple alien beast. The long snout, rimmed with finger-like projections, looked up and down, the deep set orange eye marked by a black hyphen not unlike a goat's studying intently, then it sang in a sweet brass harmonic.
"Greetings," an unseen voice said. "I was not expecting ... company."
---
"......."
Hearing Jan talk about the dragonhorse and meeting her in person were two completely different things. For one this creature was tall, 'fluffy' as a certain youkai seer would say, and she had two heads. Did that mean she could see before her and behind her all at once? The Corinthian adjusted his sunglasses but said nothing. Instead it was Daniel who peered around the door at the single eye curiously, fearlessly.
"Hello, you must be Guardian, I'm Daniel," the golden blonde offered a nod of greeting, and then he smiled. "May we come in?"
---
Another head poked out from the door crack, exactly alike. "You can," it, she said before disappearing, the knobs on her lips opening the door, revealing the whole of the creature. The tripod deer beast, with her peppery white mane and chocolate dark body, stepped aside to allow them entry. The shaggy soft hide twitched over her muscular hind leg, that tipped with a four-toed sharp, claw-like hoof. Other than her striking alien appearance, Guardian was tall; the top of her hump came up to the Corinthian's mid-chest. Easily she was over seven feet tall with her heads erect and the apartment was sized to accommodate.
A head clicked its yellowed teeth and chirped: "Do not mind the mess. I was only treating certain special visitors with the finest my mercy will allow." Perhaps they noticed that feather on the floor next to the door that she had neglected. Briefly she considered braiding it into her currently plainly kept mane.
---
"Thank you," Daniel chirped just as pleasantly.
He was unfazed by the fact that the tripod deer beast was tall and clawed, though she did pique his curiosity. For whatever reason he felt her shape familiar to him, perhaps something he'd seen in the stars ages upon ages ago. The Corinthian on the other hand arched a brow, merely wondering how she of all creatures could become accommodated to apartment living. Legs must be cramped. He reached into his pocket for a pack of Mild Sevens that had seen better days and slipped a cigarette between his teeth.
"I'll wait here," said the white horror, noting the feather and the hint of copper in the air.
"You may," the young king nodded to him then entered the apartment. "It's all right, no need to apologize," Daniel smiled to the dragonhorse, "have you been feeling well?" In her dreams, he meant.
---
Momentarily, before the door was shut, a head gazed towards the pack of ... cigarettes, yes? Primate smoking sticks. Her species also partook in such a destructive activity, but puppeteer smokes were, as a trademark of her kind, quite safe, quite noxious and quite forbidden until one came of age. Probably the same regulations for humans. The human cigarettes also smelled more poisonous, toxic, but beggars could not be choosers.
Smoking would come later. She closed the door.
Both heads studied the little human once again from both directions, but for a conditioned killer, a gruff soldier, she was calm and controlled, showing no signs of threat.
"I cannot say I have been feeling well," Guardian said, trying to remember primate etiquette and missing little Diplomat already. She fell back on puppeteer hospitality. It couldn't be too different. "Please rest your feet," a head gestured to a large beanbag looking couch, soft, comfortable, and ideal for a hoofed quadruped, or even triped. Of the few in the room, this one was the least used as indicated by least amount of shed hair.
---
Knobby lips off the smokes, lady. The nightmare sparked the end of his cancer stick, toothy gaze on the interior until the door shut. She was large enough to kill the boss with a single blow, but the boss couldn't die. Really the Corinthian had come along to minimize any conflict.
"Ahh... that's unfortunate to hear, though understandable," Daniel nodded then approached the bean bag. He settled on its squishy seat, bringing his sneakers up to sit comfortably. Shedding hairs was not so much an issue for the boy, having spent most of his days with Matthew who dropped feathers among other things eheh. "May I know more," he asked her thoughtfully, getting right down to business despite his polite demeanor.
---
"Other than what I told you?" Guardian replied, striding along on those graceful long legs to the bean bag facing him, which she settled over and on it, her legs wrapping around it and hugging its edges into her.
---
"Yes, I'd like to know about your home...." said Daniel but immediately an anxious smile took over, "that is if you feel comfortable sharing." His palms settled on his knees. He was only vaguely familiar with her people, her world, could not recall seeing them in books and yet he was almost certain once upon a time he had met them.
---
The head swayed and weaved, the human equivalent of twiddling one's thumbs, fidgeting. She was unsure, but seeing how no one knew of her kind in this place, why did it matter? Whatever secrets she had, they were safe, meaningless here.
"My home, home planet, is a heat pit. Our seas boil and should you wander too far away from the very last wild preserves, you can feel it try to choke you, but very few of us wander, or have a need to. Even in the depths of space, which we have moved our planet when our sun expanded, it still tries to choke you. I believe our planet is angry with us for what we have done to it, having destroyed most of its ecosystem in favor of our own race. We are selfish and it protests and tries to remind us in its own way. I have no shame for we do what we do, and that is to further our species, but I believe we only preserve it for something for our hooves to stand on since they're all too terrified to go somewhere else."
The heads switched, the one that had been previously speaking ducking low while the rest of her body slightly leaned to one side so that a wheeling foreleg with those cruel-looking hooves may scratch at an itch. She almost resembled a dog.
"Perhaps that is how I can find some appreciation of this world; I've never seen many stars, or what a true day looks like, until after I left the Homeworlds. We have holograms and things, but no matter how much I look at them, I cry out because I cannot feel its vastness and depth. We have drowned our planet in light. I have had the pleasure of seeing it from space. You can make out the continents by the lights, a ball of yellow and black. The glow is pleasant. Humbling almost.
"Our weather patterns, it must be nice to live somewhere where it does not have to be constantly regulated or controlled, but that is the way of my people and how much they have damaged the planet. I've never seen snow or how it sticks to my fur. I've never felt a cool rain that did not have to be generated. If we did not watch the weather, well, I believe you are familiar with freak storms?
"But enough of that. I sound as if I am begging sympathy, which I am not. My people are advanced and proud, even if we are not able preservationists."
Should Guardian have been able to, she would have imitated a human smile. A black forked tongue slid out and flicked in a hypnotizing slow motion instead before disappearing back into its mouth.
"How funny, a warrior such as me singing for so long about something I should be tight lipped about. What a terrible Guardian I've been in this ... after life.
"Little Daniel-human, have I sung you to sleep?"
---
"No, no you haven't," said the blonde with a grin.
He had heard every word of it, every slight variation in her intonation, her emphasis on certain words, the occasional wistful breath. As a king of storytellers it was only natural that he listen to stories as if he were consuming them, tall tales or history far removed from the familiar terran place alike. Daniel rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his expression having taken a more matured turn; he was not a boy behind those green eyes any longer. They resembled the starry facets in emeralds themselves.
"I appreciate your song, it has been some time since I have heard from your home," said the young dream king who gave only a hint of a smile. His voice was like a firm echo, ancient and ever present. "It is a shame you no longer come to my land through a field under the afternoon sun," he tapped his lip once then waved his hand at the dragonhorse, "you are still fleet-footed and will prove yourself to be worthy of your position yet."
What a cryptic thing to say, but such could only be expected of Oneiros. "Tell me, Guardian, what would you dream if not of your death?"
---
The sharp gaze softened at the mention of the field where she could stretch her legs and run to her hearts' content as well as the gentle racial memory of the day. Every puppeteer knew what the day looked like even if they had never seen it since moving their world. All of it was innate. The other head watched the Daniel... human's facial features. She was not familiar with expressions. She could not as easily scent his condition either.
The nostrils silently flared and she snorted gruffly out of habit. The stray soldier would question how she could prove her worth when there was no Herd to do so, but she went on to answer the question instead. It was simple, an answer almost any alien visitor stranded on a foreign planet would give: "Home."
---
The dream king tipped his chin upwards slightly. "You are aware that though you may dream of your home you cannot escape the memories brought with you from that realm," he asked her, the voice of the unending in the form of a young 'foal' of a primate.
---
The "dragonhorse's" voice hardened, the fur along her necks once again briefly bristling. The bean bag was squeezed a little tighter under her. "I believe that is my problem. I have met the end, but it is not over. I should be complete but I am not."
---
"You are still a warrior even beyond the sunless lands," he said in a tone that may have been compliment, but with the dream king one could never tell. He brushed a wave of gold from his eyes as if it were a lock of snow white. "Very well, I will grant what you wish in hopes that it will guide you to a true sense of peace."
Daniel rose from his bean bag cushion and approached her without fear. He stood only 5'6", extremely vulnerable to the puppeteer's deadly kick and still he held his hands out to Guardian, intending to lay his palms gently across her eyes.
---
The puppeteer held frightfully still, the hide twitching once again in a very horse-like manner, but she did not rear up and lash out. There was a loose sense of trust.
So Daniel's palms laid, across the alien's soft, smooth flesh of her brows, over the deep orange eyes, her long, almost draconic faces something similar to chamois leather. Even if it were that of a hardened warrior's, far from the pampered skin of the Upper Castes, it was pleasant to the touch.
---
Soft to the touch and yet the boy seemed to have expected the velvety smooth hide. His hands felt cool like the marble walls of the castle that overlooked the stars of the dreaming, and to feel it over one's eyes meant to experience a calm, whether it be the soothing tune from a mother's lips or a breeze bending the tall grass under a bright day. He could lull dreamers to sleep with them, but with Guardian he did not. It was her decision, when and where she slept in her abode. Perhaps the clearest crystalline green glowed before her eyes until he lifted his palms from her two heads again.
"It is done," he said to the dragonhorse. Anti-climactic perhaps, but such was the way of Dream.
---
Guardian was bonelessly lying there in a state of complete relaxation. Even if Daniel had not induced sleep, she might as well have been, the once savage beast (adapting itself to apartment life) now so calm and peaceful. Both necks lowered, although if it was out of her desire to snooze or show submission was not known.
"I must ask though," blinked an eye lazily. "What have you done?"
---
"You are to be barred from nightmare for the time being," the young king answered with a nod, lowering both his hands to his sides. He had yet to determine if it was necessary that the dragonhorse be barred from the dreaming all together, in order to escape that painful memory.
---
"The tentacles won't come back for me anymore?"
---
"No they will not, Guardian," he shook his head. The tentacles would not come because the melon head would not construct them, they would not be a reflection from the dark mirror, but more important perhaps the dragonhorse would not dream at all. Taking nightmares away was not an easy task for they too were dreams, and all dreams were important. But for now he would do as she asked. Hmm, Daniel tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled. "I hope that helps," his boyish tone had returned.
---
A head perked up, meeting Daniel's gaze, noting the change of tone again. "I cannot say anything, not until time has shown me the outcome of this action. My gratitude shall come in time, Hindmost."
---
"Oh, that's right," said the boy, smiling anxiously again. Of course how could he forget that only time would tell? But the name, Hindmost, that perplexed him. It showed in the blank expression he gave her. "Hindmost?" Gone was the ancient unending, leaving a teenaged boy to his curiosity.
---
Another puppeteer smile, the flicker of a black tongue. "A sign of respect among our people, Daniel." High respect indeed, although it was a flexible term: It could have meant the highest head of the Herd hierarchy, or simply who happened to be the leader of an expedition.
---
"Ahh I see... Please, 'Daniel' will do just as well, Guardian." He returned his own smile, bright and sunny as to be nauseating to those not used to the boy's positive disposition.
---
"Very well." The puppeteer chirped, turning off her translator for a moment: "Dah-nahal-" tweeting chord. Guardian sounded like a trumpet trying to speak, she having to concentrate her complex vocal cords, to curb its natural tendency of wanting to bleet in a chord. Human voices did not speak in a chord; they were singular, a task for a practiced pair of throats and not her own. And to think trying to learn a simpler language was easier...
---
At first he stared at her, finding the tweet utterly strange.... and then, absolutely entertaining! He tilted his head wearing a bright grin. "Is that your natural voice? It's lovely, I didn't know," he complimented the trumpety crooner, "how are you speaking otherwise?" Leave it to the brat to hear the story of her people and not come to the conclusion that she probably had cyberware plugged into that hump.
---
Another bleet of brass, then a chirp; forgot the translator was off. "Thank you. That is my natural speaking voice. Many find my harsh song... enchanting." The other head turned up, up towards the speaking head's jaw, then to the soft, white mop of hair. "I am a cyborg. I have translation software installed in various points of my body to ensure quick and efficient translation if the appropriate language module is installed.
"I am not a linguist, I should add. My people are, but I cannot learn new languages as quickly as they."
---
"It's not harsh at all, though it's very song-like," he added with a single nod. Hmm, Daniel scratched his chin in thought, very unlike the way the Dream King would. "You would like Lucien, the librarian," he said to Guardian but was unsure as to what the two might have in common other than a trickle of memory that was the man once playing big band records in the library. "You are far better off than I, Guardian," the blond laughed, "I think I know English only." That was far from the truth but it was the only truth Daniel Hall knew.
---
"I am only better because I have a downloaded crutch." For what Guardian had lacked in facial expressions, her body posture, tone and the occasional glint in her eye had more than made up in emoting for her. Currently both heads were erect, her body posture relaxed and in her eyes were a calm, lazy look of contentment, like a cow lying in the grass under the shade of a tree during a hot day. Even she knew more than what this Daniel Hall knew, the Lank One, but trying to figure out this strange creature, two things in one, would be a mystery left to ponder for another time.
---
"Ahh..." the sound of a boy who didn't quite get it, but he'd had a very limited exposure to such gears. Still he smiled to Guardian anyway, finding her a pleasant conversationalist despite her intimidating appearance. Remembering that she had been trying to complete a task when he'd arrived though the blonde thought perhaps it was time to take his leave. "Well, I hope to visit you again sometime soon. Maude loves music, perhaps I could bring her by or you could come to tea," he suggested, more than willing to be friendly even if the dragonhorse was not completely trusting of him.
---
"You may. I do believe I will appreciate the company you bring more so than what I have been receiving as of late." As if on cue, the gentle scent of blood had intensified, as if to remind her that indeed, she had work to do. Offhandedly, the other head added, "I never had tea before. Before you depart, what is this tea?"
---
"Maude's very kind and curious, I'm certain she'd take a liking to you," Daniel nodded again. Hmm, the dragonhorse inquired about tea? He tilted his head in deep thought, while not a tea-drinking limey per se he wanted to answer that question correctly. The blonde gestured scattering with his hands. "Tea is a beverage made by steeping the processed leaves of a tea bush," wow talk about thorough, but it was the truth at least, "it tastes very good with honey."
---
"It sounds appealing." It agreed with her natural inclinations towards a vegan diet, even if she had indulged in human foods she should not be eating. Even using the primates with their similar teeth structures had not been a sufficient excuse, even if otherwise the only one she could add to that was that she simply liked how it tasted, particularly something called a "roast beef sandwich."
---
"I think it is," Daniel agreed with her pre-assessment of the beverage. "I hope you have a good day, Guardian, it was a pleasure meeting you," he offered another characteristically bright smile before approaching the door. No need for the dragonhorse to rise from her perch, though manners dictated it was rude to show himself out! But that was only primate to primate.
---
Guardian did not see this as rude for her knowledge of human customs were still lacking; Daniel could have walked out on his hands and she would have accepted it as a normal leaving ritual, however odd it was.
"The feelings are mutual," the puppeteer replied, both heads lowering to the floor. The effects of barring her from nightmare, whatever that was, had left her with a sort of inner peace, or a placebo to assure her that there would be no more darkness. "Farewell."
---
"Goodbye, Guardian," said Daniel, hand on the knob. He thought about wishing her sweet dreams but would not want to boast promises he couldn't keep. So the golden boy just offered a smile and a friendly wave before letting himself out of the puppeteer's apartment. What a curious creature indeed, and yet so familiar.
Rating; PG (imagery, vice)
Characters; Guardian (
singingguardian), Daniel (2nd_dream_king)Summary; the fleet footed one gets a visit from someone offering to ease her dreams
Log;
Turkeys. Guardian had decided that they were nothing less that horrid. The waves had come, day and night whenever they felt like, but they were quickly dispatched and she was growing more annoyed than challenged. Insulted, really. It only made the apartment terribly messy and soaked that horrid sick odor into the carpet, permeating the air with that putrid reminder of what the ignorant, stupid primates were oh-so callously shoveling into their mouths.
A yawn of distaste as the back of her necks bristled. A fate of fates: She was dead and trapped on a planet full of apes and dullards.
Unable to sleep once again, a flash of gold flickering along the back of her eyelids threatening to take her should she leave them closed for too long, she had occupied herself with scrubbing. At least the turkeys had the odd decency of allowing herself a rest period, or what would have been a rest period. Her last decent sleep came from when she was deliriously injured and poisoned by primitive projectile weapons. And that blood staining the carpet, it wasn't coming up, even when she put both her forelegs into it.
Grunt. She would have to look into that cleaner suggestion after all.
---
Whether it was a buzzer from the lobby or a simple doorknocker, someone came calling at the dragonhorse's apartment. Whatever the case he followed by wrapping his knuckles on the wood, thrice. A man dressed in white jeans and a white shirt topped with white hair and very black glasses, one lens cracked, stood on the other side. Sometimes he felt like a mafia enforcer, running errands like this for the boy. The much shorter Daniel Hall looked no different from a teenaged boy, his golden hair wavy and slightly unkempt, t-shirt with faded print falling below the waist of his jeans. Green eyes did a shoe-gaze briefly before he looked to the door once more and his loyal phantom knocked again.
---
Somehow, Guardian retained the knowledge that it was not turkeys trying to bash the door down again but these were from a human, performing the unwritten custom of "knocking" to request entrance. Otherwise she would have responded harshly; she had visitors, if what she had scented was right. Very faint but two distinct sources.
She stopped scrubbing, unsure if she should cover the mess or discard the rag to the side, but who was she to be doing something as silly as housekeeping? She was a warrior. The rag was discarded somewhere subtle and she trotted to the door, one head opening it, the other to peak.
The two on the other side were greeted by a one-eyed serpent, the white tufts making it seem as if could not decide if it had wanted to be a lion instead. Its nostrils quivered a bit as it sniffed, although remembering that humans were not to be sniffed as if they were puppeteers -- it was a practiced ritual reserved for members of her own species and the primates considered it rude; she knew better anyway and she was far from a simple alien beast. The long snout, rimmed with finger-like projections, looked up and down, the deep set orange eye marked by a black hyphen not unlike a goat's studying intently, then it sang in a sweet brass harmonic.
"Greetings," an unseen voice said. "I was not expecting ... company."
---
"......."
Hearing Jan talk about the dragonhorse and meeting her in person were two completely different things. For one this creature was tall, 'fluffy' as a certain youkai seer would say, and she had two heads. Did that mean she could see before her and behind her all at once? The Corinthian adjusted his sunglasses but said nothing. Instead it was Daniel who peered around the door at the single eye curiously, fearlessly.
"Hello, you must be Guardian, I'm Daniel," the golden blonde offered a nod of greeting, and then he smiled. "May we come in?"
---
Another head poked out from the door crack, exactly alike. "You can," it, she said before disappearing, the knobs on her lips opening the door, revealing the whole of the creature. The tripod deer beast, with her peppery white mane and chocolate dark body, stepped aside to allow them entry. The shaggy soft hide twitched over her muscular hind leg, that tipped with a four-toed sharp, claw-like hoof. Other than her striking alien appearance, Guardian was tall; the top of her hump came up to the Corinthian's mid-chest. Easily she was over seven feet tall with her heads erect and the apartment was sized to accommodate.
A head clicked its yellowed teeth and chirped: "Do not mind the mess. I was only treating certain special visitors with the finest my mercy will allow." Perhaps they noticed that feather on the floor next to the door that she had neglected. Briefly she considered braiding it into her currently plainly kept mane.
---
"Thank you," Daniel chirped just as pleasantly.
He was unfazed by the fact that the tripod deer beast was tall and clawed, though she did pique his curiosity. For whatever reason he felt her shape familiar to him, perhaps something he'd seen in the stars ages upon ages ago. The Corinthian on the other hand arched a brow, merely wondering how she of all creatures could become accommodated to apartment living. Legs must be cramped. He reached into his pocket for a pack of Mild Sevens that had seen better days and slipped a cigarette between his teeth.
"I'll wait here," said the white horror, noting the feather and the hint of copper in the air.
"You may," the young king nodded to him then entered the apartment. "It's all right, no need to apologize," Daniel smiled to the dragonhorse, "have you been feeling well?" In her dreams, he meant.
---
Momentarily, before the door was shut, a head gazed towards the pack of ... cigarettes, yes? Primate smoking sticks. Her species also partook in such a destructive activity, but puppeteer smokes were, as a trademark of her kind, quite safe, quite noxious and quite forbidden until one came of age. Probably the same regulations for humans. The human cigarettes also smelled more poisonous, toxic, but beggars could not be choosers.
Smoking would come later. She closed the door.
Both heads studied the little human once again from both directions, but for a conditioned killer, a gruff soldier, she was calm and controlled, showing no signs of threat.
"I cannot say I have been feeling well," Guardian said, trying to remember primate etiquette and missing little Diplomat already. She fell back on puppeteer hospitality. It couldn't be too different. "Please rest your feet," a head gestured to a large beanbag looking couch, soft, comfortable, and ideal for a hoofed quadruped, or even triped. Of the few in the room, this one was the least used as indicated by least amount of shed hair.
---
Knobby lips off the smokes, lady. The nightmare sparked the end of his cancer stick, toothy gaze on the interior until the door shut. She was large enough to kill the boss with a single blow, but the boss couldn't die. Really the Corinthian had come along to minimize any conflict.
"Ahh... that's unfortunate to hear, though understandable," Daniel nodded then approached the bean bag. He settled on its squishy seat, bringing his sneakers up to sit comfortably. Shedding hairs was not so much an issue for the boy, having spent most of his days with Matthew who dropped feathers among other things eheh. "May I know more," he asked her thoughtfully, getting right down to business despite his polite demeanor.
---
"Other than what I told you?" Guardian replied, striding along on those graceful long legs to the bean bag facing him, which she settled over and on it, her legs wrapping around it and hugging its edges into her.
---
"Yes, I'd like to know about your home...." said Daniel but immediately an anxious smile took over, "that is if you feel comfortable sharing." His palms settled on his knees. He was only vaguely familiar with her people, her world, could not recall seeing them in books and yet he was almost certain once upon a time he had met them.
---
The head swayed and weaved, the human equivalent of twiddling one's thumbs, fidgeting. She was unsure, but seeing how no one knew of her kind in this place, why did it matter? Whatever secrets she had, they were safe, meaningless here.
"My home, home planet, is a heat pit. Our seas boil and should you wander too far away from the very last wild preserves, you can feel it try to choke you, but very few of us wander, or have a need to. Even in the depths of space, which we have moved our planet when our sun expanded, it still tries to choke you. I believe our planet is angry with us for what we have done to it, having destroyed most of its ecosystem in favor of our own race. We are selfish and it protests and tries to remind us in its own way. I have no shame for we do what we do, and that is to further our species, but I believe we only preserve it for something for our hooves to stand on since they're all too terrified to go somewhere else."
The heads switched, the one that had been previously speaking ducking low while the rest of her body slightly leaned to one side so that a wheeling foreleg with those cruel-looking hooves may scratch at an itch. She almost resembled a dog.
"Perhaps that is how I can find some appreciation of this world; I've never seen many stars, or what a true day looks like, until after I left the Homeworlds. We have holograms and things, but no matter how much I look at them, I cry out because I cannot feel its vastness and depth. We have drowned our planet in light. I have had the pleasure of seeing it from space. You can make out the continents by the lights, a ball of yellow and black. The glow is pleasant. Humbling almost.
"Our weather patterns, it must be nice to live somewhere where it does not have to be constantly regulated or controlled, but that is the way of my people and how much they have damaged the planet. I've never seen snow or how it sticks to my fur. I've never felt a cool rain that did not have to be generated. If we did not watch the weather, well, I believe you are familiar with freak storms?
"But enough of that. I sound as if I am begging sympathy, which I am not. My people are advanced and proud, even if we are not able preservationists."
Should Guardian have been able to, she would have imitated a human smile. A black forked tongue slid out and flicked in a hypnotizing slow motion instead before disappearing back into its mouth.
"How funny, a warrior such as me singing for so long about something I should be tight lipped about. What a terrible Guardian I've been in this ... after life.
"Little Daniel-human, have I sung you to sleep?"
---
"No, no you haven't," said the blonde with a grin.
He had heard every word of it, every slight variation in her intonation, her emphasis on certain words, the occasional wistful breath. As a king of storytellers it was only natural that he listen to stories as if he were consuming them, tall tales or history far removed from the familiar terran place alike. Daniel rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his expression having taken a more matured turn; he was not a boy behind those green eyes any longer. They resembled the starry facets in emeralds themselves.
"I appreciate your song, it has been some time since I have heard from your home," said the young dream king who gave only a hint of a smile. His voice was like a firm echo, ancient and ever present. "It is a shame you no longer come to my land through a field under the afternoon sun," he tapped his lip once then waved his hand at the dragonhorse, "you are still fleet-footed and will prove yourself to be worthy of your position yet."
What a cryptic thing to say, but such could only be expected of Oneiros. "Tell me, Guardian, what would you dream if not of your death?"
---
The sharp gaze softened at the mention of the field where she could stretch her legs and run to her hearts' content as well as the gentle racial memory of the day. Every puppeteer knew what the day looked like even if they had never seen it since moving their world. All of it was innate. The other head watched the Daniel... human's facial features. She was not familiar with expressions. She could not as easily scent his condition either.
The nostrils silently flared and she snorted gruffly out of habit. The stray soldier would question how she could prove her worth when there was no Herd to do so, but she went on to answer the question instead. It was simple, an answer almost any alien visitor stranded on a foreign planet would give: "Home."
---
The dream king tipped his chin upwards slightly. "You are aware that though you may dream of your home you cannot escape the memories brought with you from that realm," he asked her, the voice of the unending in the form of a young 'foal' of a primate.
---
The "dragonhorse's" voice hardened, the fur along her necks once again briefly bristling. The bean bag was squeezed a little tighter under her. "I believe that is my problem. I have met the end, but it is not over. I should be complete but I am not."
---
"You are still a warrior even beyond the sunless lands," he said in a tone that may have been compliment, but with the dream king one could never tell. He brushed a wave of gold from his eyes as if it were a lock of snow white. "Very well, I will grant what you wish in hopes that it will guide you to a true sense of peace."
Daniel rose from his bean bag cushion and approached her without fear. He stood only 5'6", extremely vulnerable to the puppeteer's deadly kick and still he held his hands out to Guardian, intending to lay his palms gently across her eyes.
---
The puppeteer held frightfully still, the hide twitching once again in a very horse-like manner, but she did not rear up and lash out. There was a loose sense of trust.
So Daniel's palms laid, across the alien's soft, smooth flesh of her brows, over the deep orange eyes, her long, almost draconic faces something similar to chamois leather. Even if it were that of a hardened warrior's, far from the pampered skin of the Upper Castes, it was pleasant to the touch.
---
Soft to the touch and yet the boy seemed to have expected the velvety smooth hide. His hands felt cool like the marble walls of the castle that overlooked the stars of the dreaming, and to feel it over one's eyes meant to experience a calm, whether it be the soothing tune from a mother's lips or a breeze bending the tall grass under a bright day. He could lull dreamers to sleep with them, but with Guardian he did not. It was her decision, when and where she slept in her abode. Perhaps the clearest crystalline green glowed before her eyes until he lifted his palms from her two heads again.
"It is done," he said to the dragonhorse. Anti-climactic perhaps, but such was the way of Dream.
---
Guardian was bonelessly lying there in a state of complete relaxation. Even if Daniel had not induced sleep, she might as well have been, the once savage beast (adapting itself to apartment life) now so calm and peaceful. Both necks lowered, although if it was out of her desire to snooze or show submission was not known.
"I must ask though," blinked an eye lazily. "What have you done?"
---
"You are to be barred from nightmare for the time being," the young king answered with a nod, lowering both his hands to his sides. He had yet to determine if it was necessary that the dragonhorse be barred from the dreaming all together, in order to escape that painful memory.
---
"The tentacles won't come back for me anymore?"
---
"No they will not, Guardian," he shook his head. The tentacles would not come because the melon head would not construct them, they would not be a reflection from the dark mirror, but more important perhaps the dragonhorse would not dream at all. Taking nightmares away was not an easy task for they too were dreams, and all dreams were important. But for now he would do as she asked. Hmm, Daniel tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled. "I hope that helps," his boyish tone had returned.
---
A head perked up, meeting Daniel's gaze, noting the change of tone again. "I cannot say anything, not until time has shown me the outcome of this action. My gratitude shall come in time, Hindmost."
---
"Oh, that's right," said the boy, smiling anxiously again. Of course how could he forget that only time would tell? But the name, Hindmost, that perplexed him. It showed in the blank expression he gave her. "Hindmost?" Gone was the ancient unending, leaving a teenaged boy to his curiosity.
---
Another puppeteer smile, the flicker of a black tongue. "A sign of respect among our people, Daniel." High respect indeed, although it was a flexible term: It could have meant the highest head of the Herd hierarchy, or simply who happened to be the leader of an expedition.
---
"Ahh I see... Please, 'Daniel' will do just as well, Guardian." He returned his own smile, bright and sunny as to be nauseating to those not used to the boy's positive disposition.
---
"Very well." The puppeteer chirped, turning off her translator for a moment: "Dah-nahal-" tweeting chord. Guardian sounded like a trumpet trying to speak, she having to concentrate her complex vocal cords, to curb its natural tendency of wanting to bleet in a chord. Human voices did not speak in a chord; they were singular, a task for a practiced pair of throats and not her own. And to think trying to learn a simpler language was easier...
---
At first he stared at her, finding the tweet utterly strange.... and then, absolutely entertaining! He tilted his head wearing a bright grin. "Is that your natural voice? It's lovely, I didn't know," he complimented the trumpety crooner, "how are you speaking otherwise?" Leave it to the brat to hear the story of her people and not come to the conclusion that she probably had cyberware plugged into that hump.
---
Another bleet of brass, then a chirp; forgot the translator was off. "Thank you. That is my natural speaking voice. Many find my harsh song... enchanting." The other head turned up, up towards the speaking head's jaw, then to the soft, white mop of hair. "I am a cyborg. I have translation software installed in various points of my body to ensure quick and efficient translation if the appropriate language module is installed.
"I am not a linguist, I should add. My people are, but I cannot learn new languages as quickly as they."
---
"It's not harsh at all, though it's very song-like," he added with a single nod. Hmm, Daniel scratched his chin in thought, very unlike the way the Dream King would. "You would like Lucien, the librarian," he said to Guardian but was unsure as to what the two might have in common other than a trickle of memory that was the man once playing big band records in the library. "You are far better off than I, Guardian," the blond laughed, "I think I know English only." That was far from the truth but it was the only truth Daniel Hall knew.
---
"I am only better because I have a downloaded crutch." For what Guardian had lacked in facial expressions, her body posture, tone and the occasional glint in her eye had more than made up in emoting for her. Currently both heads were erect, her body posture relaxed and in her eyes were a calm, lazy look of contentment, like a cow lying in the grass under the shade of a tree during a hot day. Even she knew more than what this Daniel Hall knew, the Lank One, but trying to figure out this strange creature, two things in one, would be a mystery left to ponder for another time.
---
"Ahh..." the sound of a boy who didn't quite get it, but he'd had a very limited exposure to such gears. Still he smiled to Guardian anyway, finding her a pleasant conversationalist despite her intimidating appearance. Remembering that she had been trying to complete a task when he'd arrived though the blonde thought perhaps it was time to take his leave. "Well, I hope to visit you again sometime soon. Maude loves music, perhaps I could bring her by or you could come to tea," he suggested, more than willing to be friendly even if the dragonhorse was not completely trusting of him.
---
"You may. I do believe I will appreciate the company you bring more so than what I have been receiving as of late." As if on cue, the gentle scent of blood had intensified, as if to remind her that indeed, she had work to do. Offhandedly, the other head added, "I never had tea before. Before you depart, what is this tea?"
---
"Maude's very kind and curious, I'm certain she'd take a liking to you," Daniel nodded again. Hmm, the dragonhorse inquired about tea? He tilted his head in deep thought, while not a tea-drinking limey per se he wanted to answer that question correctly. The blonde gestured scattering with his hands. "Tea is a beverage made by steeping the processed leaves of a tea bush," wow talk about thorough, but it was the truth at least, "it tastes very good with honey."
---
"It sounds appealing." It agreed with her natural inclinations towards a vegan diet, even if she had indulged in human foods she should not be eating. Even using the primates with their similar teeth structures had not been a sufficient excuse, even if otherwise the only one she could add to that was that she simply liked how it tasted, particularly something called a "roast beef sandwich."
---
"I think it is," Daniel agreed with her pre-assessment of the beverage. "I hope you have a good day, Guardian, it was a pleasure meeting you," he offered another characteristically bright smile before approaching the door. No need for the dragonhorse to rise from her perch, though manners dictated it was rude to show himself out! But that was only primate to primate.
---
Guardian did not see this as rude for her knowledge of human customs were still lacking; Daniel could have walked out on his hands and she would have accepted it as a normal leaving ritual, however odd it was.
"The feelings are mutual," the puppeteer replied, both heads lowering to the floor. The effects of barring her from nightmare, whatever that was, had left her with a sort of inner peace, or a placebo to assure her that there would be no more darkness. "Farewell."
---
"Goodbye, Guardian," said Daniel, hand on the knob. He thought about wishing her sweet dreams but would not want to boast promises he couldn't keep. So the golden boy just offered a smile and a friendly wave before letting himself out of the puppeteer's apartment. What a curious creature indeed, and yet so familiar.