yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2012-11-25 03:41 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2012-11-25 03:41 pm
Entry tags:
464;
Title: dream thief
Rating: G
probably'll get a sequel drabble. dunno. for the prompt 'stolen dreams'.
The tool she used was long and thin and resembled a natural trumpet. It was made of brass and decorated with silver on the mouthpiece and the bell; where valves and holes would be for her fingers to play were thin amethyst plates, no thicker than a fingernail. She held it carefully, because it had been her only friend for a long time now and it was the only way for her to complete her job. She preferred it over the bags and nets her colleagues used; it was elegant and simple, and all she had to do was breathe and it would capture not only the thickest dreams, but the wispiest of nightmares. It was her rêve-ravisseur, the instrument she used to capture dreams and take them away with. She was a thief of dreams because she had been born it.
Where others hated the job they were born to do, she loved it. She flew from house to house, felt the night's breeze on her misty form and watched moonlight twist through her black body. She perched on rooftops and stole into the houses through their windows. She was usually unnoticed, being as dark as the night and with no eyes to betray her position. Most people were asleep as well, and the night owls she had glimpsed were too wrapped up in whatever had held their attention for so long already to notice her shadowy form slipping past them and into the hall to find someone who was asleep.
Every so often, a child would see her and scream. She would flee and watch the scene from the window. Parents running in to see what was wrong; checking to make sure everything was locked; calming their child. It was very sweet, how humans reacted to her. It made her smile.
Most children screamed. Margaret, she found, did not.
Margaret was a girl with red hair and freckles. She had to be at least six years old, and she was what a human would consider cute. Margaret had blue eyes and pale skin, and she was undoubtedly the most fearsome creature she had ever beheld. Margaret, she had realized, was a girl ahead of her age. She read books and didn't scream when she had seen a black mist slip in through her window and take form.
The dream thief felt this was something new. She fell in love with this Margaret, and took her for her own. She would teach her to steal dreams, just as she was taught.
Margaret informed her she wanted to make dreams. She wanted to write them from her head and put them in front of other people. She wanted to share them, not steal them. It was incredibly confusing for a creature who had only taken them, not dreamt them herself. She listened as Margaret explained it all. She hesitated when Margaret asked for her help.
The dream thief agreed, and that was it.
Rating: G
probably'll get a sequel drabble. dunno. for the prompt 'stolen dreams'.
The tool she used was long and thin and resembled a natural trumpet. It was made of brass and decorated with silver on the mouthpiece and the bell; where valves and holes would be for her fingers to play were thin amethyst plates, no thicker than a fingernail. She held it carefully, because it had been her only friend for a long time now and it was the only way for her to complete her job. She preferred it over the bags and nets her colleagues used; it was elegant and simple, and all she had to do was breathe and it would capture not only the thickest dreams, but the wispiest of nightmares. It was her rêve-ravisseur, the instrument she used to capture dreams and take them away with. She was a thief of dreams because she had been born it.
Where others hated the job they were born to do, she loved it. She flew from house to house, felt the night's breeze on her misty form and watched moonlight twist through her black body. She perched on rooftops and stole into the houses through their windows. She was usually unnoticed, being as dark as the night and with no eyes to betray her position. Most people were asleep as well, and the night owls she had glimpsed were too wrapped up in whatever had held their attention for so long already to notice her shadowy form slipping past them and into the hall to find someone who was asleep.
Every so often, a child would see her and scream. She would flee and watch the scene from the window. Parents running in to see what was wrong; checking to make sure everything was locked; calming their child. It was very sweet, how humans reacted to her. It made her smile.
Most children screamed. Margaret, she found, did not.
Margaret was a girl with red hair and freckles. She had to be at least six years old, and she was what a human would consider cute. Margaret had blue eyes and pale skin, and she was undoubtedly the most fearsome creature she had ever beheld. Margaret, she had realized, was a girl ahead of her age. She read books and didn't scream when she had seen a black mist slip in through her window and take form.
The dream thief felt this was something new. She fell in love with this Margaret, and took her for her own. She would teach her to steal dreams, just as she was taught.
Margaret informed her she wanted to make dreams. She wanted to write them from her head and put them in front of other people. She wanted to share them, not steal them. It was incredibly confusing for a creature who had only taken them, not dreamt them herself. She listened as Margaret explained it all. She hesitated when Margaret asked for her help.
The dream thief agreed, and that was it.