Post by Squee on Jan 24, 2016 21:31:14 GMT -5
((Preliminary note: in case people miss it in my post, the time is currently 3 AM.))
Demitri leaned back with a long sigh. He pulled his glasses off his nose and rubbed his hands across his eyes and up through his hair. He made a quick mental note to shower soon, if he could; his hair was beginning to feel like greasy straw.
He glanced at the dormant, rubbery cocoon on his observation table. The way the DLA leader put it, he went to sleep with a furry puppy by his bedside, and woke up to this bluish colored thing in the pup's stead. And no sign of the pup. Demitri's instruments could pick up strong life signs inside the pod. After several DLA members searching for the pup and turning up no results, they could only conclude she was in there. Doing what? Since when did dogs make cocoons? It was anybody's guess and Demitri had no answers to give them. He just said he would look after the cocoon.
The pup had never been a normal dog. The six legs had been a huge hint. Demitri had liked her enough. For a mutt. She had been intelligent, known when she was wanted or not wanted. She had liked to sit, lick, and nuzzle the injured. And the injured had been grateful for her company, so he had stopped discouraging her within the week she'd started visiting.
Now it was their turn to be concerned about her well being. He'd shook his head so many times in the last few weeks, in response to people's inquires about their loving pet.
Demitri started as the pod suddenly twitched and shuddered. Then lay still. That happened every so often, but it was no less startling. Like watching a pregnant woman's stomach bulge and shiver in its occupant's presence. He grimaced and turned away to log inventory.
---
She dreamed so vividly. She knew she dreamed; the colors of the world were distorted and glaring, but perhaps more beautiful than the real world. Kveta loved making her own flowers. She wanted to give them different smells, but was disappointed to find they always had the same smell. It didn't matter if they were pink, purple, or rainbows with six or ten petals. They smelled the same. Sweet but sharp, usually making her sneeze.
Kveta had tried to find her brother in this dream. Sometimes she could see him, if she thought really hard. But he seemed frustratingly far away. He had said he would meet her at the ruins. It had been months now. Where was he?
Sometimes she walked the path back to the farm. She would leave the ruins and find the sea. This time, though, she was never so tired, never so thirsty as she remembered being. She would find the farm, and there would be Popa and Moma and they would hug her, ruffle her fur, and tell her how they missed her.
No, no, she wouldn't have fur anymore. In all her dreams, she could never see her body. She was formless, making flowers and finding Poruc-Ni.
Kveta could see Dutch and Mo. She has tried to tell them. Something was going to happen. She had seen Poruc-Ni go through it, and he had told her you just know it would come but there's no way to stop it. She had tried so hard, but Dutch and Mo just didn't understand. They had chastised her for hoarding towels and told her to quiet when she tried to make them understand.
She missed them. Maybe she should go see them. Then she blinked, but the universe remained dark. She pushed outward but met resistance. Urgency rushed her and she pushed harder, scratching at the resistance and kicking now. Opening her mouth, she heard a strange sound and scratched harder . A leak of light streaked her darkness. Energy renewed, Kveta pressed and clawed, shredding away the resistance and making the light come through. She would find Mo, and Dutch, and Poruc-Ni, Moma, and Popa.
---
Demitri had sat staring when the cocoon began rocking more violently. Moved closer now, he rested a hand on the smooth, rubber surface, listening to signs of struggle. Then something sharp pierced through from the other side and began tearing the cocoon to pieces.
"Oh galaxies. Vena! Vena are you there!"
His daughter's head poked around the upper corner of a doorway, blinking sleepily. "Yessir?"
"Go find Dutch and Mo. Ah!" A bare, startling white hand poked out from the tattered folds of the cocoon, glistening in the spotlight he'd turned on it. "Vena! Quickly!"
"But it's..."
"Three in the morning. I know, Vena! But this isn't waiting! GET DUTCH AND MO." He could hear the clatter as she leapt off her bunk and her naked feet slapped the solid floor behind him. Something gooey began to swell through opening of the cocoon. Demitri grabbed the nearest towel and moved it closer to him. "And bring towels! Holy galaxies!" A third hand had exited the cocoon, trying to open it further. "What is this?"
Demitri leaned back with a long sigh. He pulled his glasses off his nose and rubbed his hands across his eyes and up through his hair. He made a quick mental note to shower soon, if he could; his hair was beginning to feel like greasy straw.
He glanced at the dormant, rubbery cocoon on his observation table. The way the DLA leader put it, he went to sleep with a furry puppy by his bedside, and woke up to this bluish colored thing in the pup's stead. And no sign of the pup. Demitri's instruments could pick up strong life signs inside the pod. After several DLA members searching for the pup and turning up no results, they could only conclude she was in there. Doing what? Since when did dogs make cocoons? It was anybody's guess and Demitri had no answers to give them. He just said he would look after the cocoon.
The pup had never been a normal dog. The six legs had been a huge hint. Demitri had liked her enough. For a mutt. She had been intelligent, known when she was wanted or not wanted. She had liked to sit, lick, and nuzzle the injured. And the injured had been grateful for her company, so he had stopped discouraging her within the week she'd started visiting.
Now it was their turn to be concerned about her well being. He'd shook his head so many times in the last few weeks, in response to people's inquires about their loving pet.
Demitri started as the pod suddenly twitched and shuddered. Then lay still. That happened every so often, but it was no less startling. Like watching a pregnant woman's stomach bulge and shiver in its occupant's presence. He grimaced and turned away to log inventory.
---
She dreamed so vividly. She knew she dreamed; the colors of the world were distorted and glaring, but perhaps more beautiful than the real world. Kveta loved making her own flowers. She wanted to give them different smells, but was disappointed to find they always had the same smell. It didn't matter if they were pink, purple, or rainbows with six or ten petals. They smelled the same. Sweet but sharp, usually making her sneeze.
Kveta had tried to find her brother in this dream. Sometimes she could see him, if she thought really hard. But he seemed frustratingly far away. He had said he would meet her at the ruins. It had been months now. Where was he?
Sometimes she walked the path back to the farm. She would leave the ruins and find the sea. This time, though, she was never so tired, never so thirsty as she remembered being. She would find the farm, and there would be Popa and Moma and they would hug her, ruffle her fur, and tell her how they missed her.
No, no, she wouldn't have fur anymore. In all her dreams, she could never see her body. She was formless, making flowers and finding Poruc-Ni.
Kveta could see Dutch and Mo. She has tried to tell them. Something was going to happen. She had seen Poruc-Ni go through it, and he had told her you just know it would come but there's no way to stop it. She had tried so hard, but Dutch and Mo just didn't understand. They had chastised her for hoarding towels and told her to quiet when she tried to make them understand.
She missed them. Maybe she should go see them. Then she blinked, but the universe remained dark. She pushed outward but met resistance. Urgency rushed her and she pushed harder, scratching at the resistance and kicking now. Opening her mouth, she heard a strange sound and scratched harder . A leak of light streaked her darkness. Energy renewed, Kveta pressed and clawed, shredding away the resistance and making the light come through. She would find Mo, and Dutch, and Poruc-Ni, Moma, and Popa.
---
Demitri had sat staring when the cocoon began rocking more violently. Moved closer now, he rested a hand on the smooth, rubber surface, listening to signs of struggle. Then something sharp pierced through from the other side and began tearing the cocoon to pieces.
"Oh galaxies. Vena! Vena are you there!"
His daughter's head poked around the upper corner of a doorway, blinking sleepily. "Yessir?"
"Go find Dutch and Mo. Ah!" A bare, startling white hand poked out from the tattered folds of the cocoon, glistening in the spotlight he'd turned on it. "Vena! Quickly!"
"But it's..."
"Three in the morning. I know, Vena! But this isn't waiting! GET DUTCH AND MO." He could hear the clatter as she leapt off her bunk and her naked feet slapped the solid floor behind him. Something gooey began to swell through opening of the cocoon. Demitri grabbed the nearest towel and moved it closer to him. "And bring towels! Holy galaxies!" A third hand had exited the cocoon, trying to open it further. "What is this?"
