He? He is awake. Doing things that he always has done for centuries. Not so much scheming, not so soon after yet another humiliating defeat. But he is reading, he is writing, he is researching.
But despite this, she is not alone inside this bauble. There's something dwelling within its starry, indigo glass and golden frame. It's hard to place what it is precisely, since, the more you look at it, the less certain you are of its identity. Sometimes it's a star, sometimes it's a mist, sometimes it's both, sometimes it's neither.
It's a soul, and it thrums with a unique song as it floats around the room, drifting lazily like a fish inside its tank.
She looks at it with wonder, pondering how much is reality and how much is her subconscious mind playing tricks on her. It's lovely to watch, and yet at the same time she feels weirdly ashamed of her...voyeurism. Like she has no right to see this lazy 'fish'. But looked at another way, he's seeing more of her like this because of his connection to her Token. Turnabout is only fair, after all.
Lumindra snuggles down further into her soft bed, humming along with that unique song, adding her own counterpoints and harmonies.
The little light (and it is very little, rarely growing any larger than a fist in all its nebulous forms) seems content, undisturbed by Lumindra's presence. Why should it? It's contained by something that is her; it could very well be she's gone entirely without it's notice.
It's an hour, maybe a bit more, before that light stops its drifting, staying still in one place in the middle of this room that isn't really a room. And slowly, around it, a tall, dark, and familiar figure fades in. His eyes are closed, but once he's fully materialized, they open.
"...A dream?" It's sort of a question, not really directed at anyone; not himself, not the Space Faerie. Simply his assessment of what this setting he's found himself to be in is.
"Something like that," she agrees amiably. The light in their little "room" is soft and blue and purple and red, nothing at all like the light that was there when he was truly trapped inside.
"This is a surprise," she adds, almost as an afterthought. Time moves strangely now, as in all proper dreams. She cannot tell how much time has passed between her first sentence and the second.
He huffs, looking around again, though these surroundings remains as familiar as they always have. Although the fact it's familiar now, and not any sort of infuriating or threatening, is a step up. He wouldn't go so far as to say it's a welcome step, but...
"So what are you doing here? Dreaming as well?" It really doesn't feel the same when he was wholly trapped in this place. He knows he's still in the physical world, sprawled out and asleep in his bed with red sheets. It's comforting to keep it in mind; if he wants out, he only has to wake up. Just like a nightmare. It can't keep you, it can't hurt you.
"Mmmyup!" she chirps, grinning hugely. "For the first time in a while, actually. I haven't had any dreams in so long. I wonder if this is your fault."
But she's still grinning when she says it, so there's really no blame being placed here. She's joking around, in that silly way she has with him. Of course, he always manages to turn it back on her, and she feels incredibly stupid, but maybe this time that won't happen.
"I don't dream very much either," he murmurs, sitting down on a chair that wasn't there just a second ago. "Or I should say, I dream, but I don't remember them. Everything dreams. It's the way the mind and subconscious works."
It's somewhat amusing to see her curled up there, nothing but her red eyes and blue hair peeking from underneath that absurdly giant blanket. He's in a strangely good mood, even though very little has been going his way since his assault failed.
"I've had to move one of my space stations to another world. It's been an ordeal, but I needed someplace outside of Neopia to operate within. Otherwise, simply researching. Trying to clean up what's left of my attack. Have you heard word of Garoo? I'm under the impression he's been officially contained and arrested."
"Yes. I'm afraid Commander Garoo and Sophix were both arrested. They're being held in the brig of your former space station, awaiting trial. The Neopets aren't inclined to...release them any time soon."
They're the scapegoats, and they both know it, but she dares not speak up for them, for fear of alienating her friends and the other faeries. She shrugs slightly.
"It is what it is. At least you're still alive, and free." Glib, certainly, but then she's never really liked his associates.
She wiggles in a way that could be considered provocative, but not on purpose. She's just getting more comfortable.
"They'll let Sophix go. She's only a mercenary under my hire. Fine her an absurd amount of Neopoints, then let her go. Garoo on the other hand..." Sloth frowns, seeming to think, rubbing his chin as he does so.
"...I should dispatch someone to free him. He can bone things up like no one's business sometimes, but he's loyal. And still useful. That's the real important part. I've never had someone who could manage the troops as well as he has."
Then his frown deepens, and he shakes his head.
"I've been thinking about these kind of things all day. I guess it shows since I'm still thinking about them in my sleep."
There's another smile, and she sits up slightly, propping herself up on her elbows. Then she rolls to face him, her head resting on the palm of her hand.
Yes, she's not wearing her usual costume under that blanket; her arm is bare.
"The subconscious mind works in mysterious ways, you said. Maybe since we're dreaming together we could focus and dream about whatever we liked. What do you want to dream about, Frank?"
Again, this is dream logic, and those words sound absolutely reasonable in the context.
His first instinct is to say 'victory'. But, again, that's a sore, open wound still, and he's much prefer to not prod at it just yet.
"I'm not sure." But he is, and the air around him betrays it. But he'll lie anyways.
"What do faeries dream about, anyways? Is it different for all the different classes of your sisterhood? Do Fire Faeries dream about smoke? Does Jhuidah dream about palm trees? Does Fyora dream about everything all at once? That's what I'd really like to know."
He's never this poetic with his wording when he's awake; always slang, curses, insults, coarse and abrupt sentences and words. Just one more thing that makes this apparent they're sharing a dream.
"And since you're the Space Faerie, maybe that's why you dream of nothing, since you exist in nothingness."
"No, space isn't nothingness. You of all people should know that. My dreams are there, but I always forget them. I think it's a release valve, since we're so long-lived. If we remembered all our dreams, we'd go mad."
She gestures at the 'room,' as if proving her point. A miniature comet drifts by, shining and twinkling in the blue-red light, like a firefly. Soon, they're both surrounded by hundreds of the things, drifting by, their tails catching the light. And the nebula around them shifts again.
"This isn't nothingness. Space is vast, but not empty."
He watches the change of scenery, this star show, with an expression that is fairly neutral. But it's a very relaxed sort of neutral. The sort of calm, almost content expression he almost never has when he's awake.
"You're right. I probably phrased that wrong. But it's...lonesome. Sometimes. The solitude is welcome, for me personally, but..."
"I know, Frank." There's not the slightest trace of self-pity in her voice, she's just agreeing with him, wistfully. She is all too well aware of the loneliness she struggles with, and the confusion when she gives in to his companionship, why it doesn't bring her the happiness she seeks.
"You're so self-contained. I wish I could do that. You know, when you offer to contain me, I wonder if you'd teach me how to be like you."
"I could. I'm not sure, though, if that'd make us get along better, or worse." He watches as another miniature comet hisses by in the air between them, trailing glittering dust and light behind it.
"Of course, seems that it's the other way around these days. Since, even though I'm on the outside, I've still got this thing," and he rolls his eyes and gestures, indicating the Token they're inside, "tied around my ankle like a ball and chain."
"Is it really that bad, Frank? I suppose I didn't think about it that much; I've been tied to my Token all my existence. I don't see it as much of a problem. I find it comfortable."
She wiggles again, and scoots one corner of her blanket aside. Clearly making room for him, if he wants to join her.
But despite this, she is not alone inside this bauble. There's something dwelling within its starry, indigo glass and golden frame. It's hard to place what it is precisely, since, the more you look at it, the less certain you are of its identity. Sometimes it's a star, sometimes it's a mist, sometimes it's both, sometimes it's neither.
It's a soul, and it thrums with a unique song as it floats around the room, drifting lazily like a fish inside its tank.
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Lumindra snuggles down further into her soft bed, humming along with that unique song, adding her own counterpoints and harmonies.
This is nice. Maybe he'll join her here later.
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It's an hour, maybe a bit more, before that light stops its drifting, staying still in one place in the middle of this room that isn't really a room. And slowly, around it, a tall, dark, and familiar figure fades in. His eyes are closed, but once he's fully materialized, they open.
"...A dream?" It's sort of a question, not really directed at anyone; not himself, not the Space Faerie. Simply his assessment of what this setting he's found himself to be in is.
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"This is a surprise," she adds, almost as an afterthought. Time moves strangely now, as in all proper dreams. She cannot tell how much time has passed between her first sentence and the second.
She does look very comfortable and content.
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"So what are you doing here? Dreaming as well?" It really doesn't feel the same when he was wholly trapped in this place. He knows he's still in the physical world, sprawled out and asleep in his bed with red sheets. It's comforting to keep it in mind; if he wants out, he only has to wake up. Just like a nightmare. It can't keep you, it can't hurt you.
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But she's still grinning when she says it, so there's really no blame being placed here. She's joking around, in that silly way she has with him. Of course, he always manages to turn it back on her, and she feels incredibly stupid, but maybe this time that won't happen.
"How are you doing? Everything all right?"
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It's somewhat amusing to see her curled up there, nothing but her red eyes and blue hair peeking from underneath that absurdly giant blanket. He's in a strangely good mood, even though very little has been going his way since his assault failed.
"I've had to move one of my space stations to another world. It's been an ordeal, but I needed someplace outside of Neopia to operate within. Otherwise, simply researching. Trying to clean up what's left of my attack. Have you heard word of Garoo? I'm under the impression he's been officially contained and arrested."
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"Yes. I'm afraid Commander Garoo and Sophix were both arrested. They're being held in the brig of your former space station, awaiting trial. The Neopets aren't inclined to...release them any time soon."
They're the scapegoats, and they both know it, but she dares not speak up for them, for fear of alienating her friends and the other faeries. She shrugs slightly.
"It is what it is. At least you're still alive, and free." Glib, certainly, but then she's never really liked his associates.
She wiggles in a way that could be considered provocative, but not on purpose. She's just getting more comfortable.
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"...I should dispatch someone to free him. He can bone things up like no one's business sometimes, but he's loyal. And still useful. That's the real important part. I've never had someone who could manage the troops as well as he has."
Then his frown deepens, and he shakes his head.
"I've been thinking about these kind of things all day. I guess it shows since I'm still thinking about them in my sleep."
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Yes, she's not wearing her usual costume under that blanket; her arm is bare.
"The subconscious mind works in mysterious ways, you said. Maybe since we're dreaming together we could focus and dream about whatever we liked. What do you want to dream about, Frank?"
Again, this is dream logic, and those words sound absolutely reasonable in the context.
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"I'm not sure." But he is, and the air around him betrays it. But he'll lie anyways.
"What do faeries dream about, anyways? Is it different for all the different classes of your sisterhood? Do Fire Faeries dream about smoke? Does Jhuidah dream about palm trees? Does Fyora dream about everything all at once? That's what I'd really like to know."
He's never this poetic with his wording when he's awake; always slang, curses, insults, coarse and abrupt sentences and words. Just one more thing that makes this apparent they're sharing a dream.
"And since you're the Space Faerie, maybe that's why you dream of nothing, since you exist in nothingness."
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She gestures at the 'room,' as if proving her point. A miniature comet drifts by, shining and twinkling in the blue-red light, like a firefly. Soon, they're both surrounded by hundreds of the things, drifting by, their tails catching the light. And the nebula around them shifts again.
"This isn't nothingness. Space is vast, but not empty."
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"You're right. I probably phrased that wrong. But it's...lonesome. Sometimes. The solitude is welcome, for me personally, but..."
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"You're so self-contained. I wish I could do that. You know, when you offer to contain me, I wonder if you'd teach me how to be like you."
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"Of course, seems that it's the other way around these days. Since, even though I'm on the outside, I've still got this thing," and he rolls his eyes and gestures, indicating the Token they're inside, "tied around my ankle like a ball and chain."
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She wiggles again, and scoots one corner of her blanket aside. Clearly making room for him, if he wants to join her.
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