06-25-2018, 08:15 PM
The material was not only a rainbow of colors. It was a rainbow of everything.
It was all textures. It was soft and rough and smooth and sharp and damp and brittle. It was lacquered wood and it was cotton and it was pine needles.
It was all smells. Lilacs and gasoline. Sea breezes and attic must.
It was all tastes and sounds and, of course, all colors. Ocean green, sky blue, the cherry red of winking police lights and the almost gold at the edge of dawn.
Almost as fascinating as the non-euclidean infinite composition of the dream stuff, was how he could shape it. He could twist it like a wire, or tear it like paper, then mould the edges of the paper back together, smoothing it into virgin wholeness.
It took only about fifteen minutes to create a whole object, but for the first two hours, he never reached a whole object. He was too fascinated by the process of creation. Littered around him were the following half-things:
Half of a fender that had been crocheted out of copper, its end still rough with loops of metal.
Two thirds of an orange that smelled like chocolate.
One third of a stool made patchwork out of iron, concrete, rubber, glass and bubble gum.
An intangible bushel of sensations, composed of the smell of daffodils, the taste of butterscotch, and the sound of Benedict Cumberbatch reciting Edgar Allen Poe's "The Bells."
A half woven cloud.
After the cloud, Talos regained his interest in recreating Escher paintings. He did a miniature of the endless stair. Then he made a little robot to walk around it and watched it until he had a headache.
He drew the two hands drawing each other, and left them endlessly detailing filigree on each other's sleeves.
Then he painted Escher's mosaic of lizards, that transformed into real lizards, and then descended back into the tessellation.
[spoiler]
![[Image: Escher%27s_Reptiles.jpg]](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/8/8f/Escher%27s_Reptiles.jpg)
[/spoiler]
Then he freaked out about the fact he had just created life.
----
The current deployment of Stormtroopers guarding Coruscant were always wary of unknown Primes, particularly when they seemed upset. But this Prime was not violent in his upset, so they assigned the lowest ranking soldier present to talk to him about his problem in the hopes that this would engender goodwill and encourage him to join the Empire, or at least get him to go away.
"Is it dangerous?" Ensign BV-5390 asked nervously.
"It is potentially deadly," said Talos. "To my freewheeling bachelor lifestyle, formerly bereft of familial responsibilities."
Ensign 5390 looked at the brown reptile, which was small enough to sit comfortably in Talos' hand, with equal parts anxiety and skepticism. It did not seem very deadly to him, but he'd seen Primes produce violence out of some very strange things.
"Is it poisonous?" he asked.
"I don't know!" said Talos, throwing up his non-lizard hand. "I don't know anything about it! I can quote to you the entirety of Much Ado About Nothing, or make an extensive improvisational fuss about nothing, but I know absolutely actually nothing about biology. However, despite this seemingly grievous dearth of expertise, I have produced the complex alchemy that is life, Athena-like, bursting whole from my mind!"
"Burst from your mind? So it's like an Alien?" said Ensign 5390, taking a hasty step back from what might be a Facehugger, and grasping his rifle.
Talos took a step back himself, and held up a calming hand.
"Your grasp of metaphor is as nuanced as your fashion sense, my friend," he said. "Do not fret. I am as confident as I can be of anything at the moment that this lizard poses no eminent danger to you."
"Okay," said Ensign 5390, releasing his grip on his firearm. "So what's the problem?"
"I don't know what lizards EAT!" Talos almost-yelled, returning to the frenetic state in which he had first approached the portal. "I made LIFE and I have NO IDEA HOW TO SUSTAIN IT! This was completely irresponsible of me! More so than usual! Am I supposed to be holding it? Do lizards like being held? Is it even a lizard?"
Ensign 5390 took a step back as Talos brandished the possibly-a-lizard in front of his helmet. The lizard shifted to keep its perch in Talos' palm. Talos continued his rant.
"It was created by dream-stuff derived from an impossible painting. What does that mean? Is Omnilli-stuff permanent? Have I brought it into existence just to crumble into nothingness in a few bittersweet hours? I am morally responsible for the continued existence of a creature I know nothing about. WHAT DO LIZARDS EAT?"
"Bugs?" Ensign 5390 guessed. "You could, make bugs for it?"
"Are you SERIOUSLY proposing that I use my godlike powers to MANUFACTURE LIFE for the EXPRESS PURPOSE of being EATEN?" said Talos.
Ensign 5390 was experienced enough with superior officers to tell when a question was rhetorical, and so said nothing.
"Though, to be entirely fair, it could be argued that much of animal husbandry is in that business," Talos said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And I suppose farms aren't morally reprehensible. Though, there feels like a difference between raising a chicken to eventually eat, and manifesting a chicken to be immediately devoured."
"You could make a dead chicken," Ensign 5390 suggested.
This suggestion took Talos by surprise to the point of brief speechlessness. After a few seconds, Ensign 5390 continued tentatively into the unaccustomed silence.
"Or, I mean, dead bugs. And a dead chicken. Both I guess, if you don't know what it eats."
"That," Talos began, pointing at Ensign 5390. "Would work. I think. You are very sensible and I am very grateful."
"Okay," said Ensign 5390. "Great. Would you like to join the Empire?"
There was another long pause. During it Talos glanced from Ensign 5390, to the other uniformed guards, to the other intimidating steel arch. He very slowly drew back, folding his free hand protectively over his lizard.
"No...I'm good. Thanks."
It was all textures. It was soft and rough and smooth and sharp and damp and brittle. It was lacquered wood and it was cotton and it was pine needles.
It was all smells. Lilacs and gasoline. Sea breezes and attic must.
It was all tastes and sounds and, of course, all colors. Ocean green, sky blue, the cherry red of winking police lights and the almost gold at the edge of dawn.
Almost as fascinating as the non-euclidean infinite composition of the dream stuff, was how he could shape it. He could twist it like a wire, or tear it like paper, then mould the edges of the paper back together, smoothing it into virgin wholeness.
It took only about fifteen minutes to create a whole object, but for the first two hours, he never reached a whole object. He was too fascinated by the process of creation. Littered around him were the following half-things:
Half of a fender that had been crocheted out of copper, its end still rough with loops of metal.
Two thirds of an orange that smelled like chocolate.
One third of a stool made patchwork out of iron, concrete, rubber, glass and bubble gum.
An intangible bushel of sensations, composed of the smell of daffodils, the taste of butterscotch, and the sound of Benedict Cumberbatch reciting Edgar Allen Poe's "The Bells."
A half woven cloud.
After the cloud, Talos regained his interest in recreating Escher paintings. He did a miniature of the endless stair. Then he made a little robot to walk around it and watched it until he had a headache.
He drew the two hands drawing each other, and left them endlessly detailing filigree on each other's sleeves.
Then he painted Escher's mosaic of lizards, that transformed into real lizards, and then descended back into the tessellation.
[spoiler]
[/spoiler]
Then he freaked out about the fact he had just created life.
----
The current deployment of Stormtroopers guarding Coruscant were always wary of unknown Primes, particularly when they seemed upset. But this Prime was not violent in his upset, so they assigned the lowest ranking soldier present to talk to him about his problem in the hopes that this would engender goodwill and encourage him to join the Empire, or at least get him to go away.
"Is it dangerous?" Ensign BV-5390 asked nervously.
"It is potentially deadly," said Talos. "To my freewheeling bachelor lifestyle, formerly bereft of familial responsibilities."
Ensign 5390 looked at the brown reptile, which was small enough to sit comfortably in Talos' hand, with equal parts anxiety and skepticism. It did not seem very deadly to him, but he'd seen Primes produce violence out of some very strange things.
"Is it poisonous?" he asked.
"I don't know!" said Talos, throwing up his non-lizard hand. "I don't know anything about it! I can quote to you the entirety of Much Ado About Nothing, or make an extensive improvisational fuss about nothing, but I know absolutely actually nothing about biology. However, despite this seemingly grievous dearth of expertise, I have produced the complex alchemy that is life, Athena-like, bursting whole from my mind!"
"Burst from your mind? So it's like an Alien?" said Ensign 5390, taking a hasty step back from what might be a Facehugger, and grasping his rifle.
Talos took a step back himself, and held up a calming hand.
"Your grasp of metaphor is as nuanced as your fashion sense, my friend," he said. "Do not fret. I am as confident as I can be of anything at the moment that this lizard poses no eminent danger to you."
"Okay," said Ensign 5390, releasing his grip on his firearm. "So what's the problem?"
"I don't know what lizards EAT!" Talos almost-yelled, returning to the frenetic state in which he had first approached the portal. "I made LIFE and I have NO IDEA HOW TO SUSTAIN IT! This was completely irresponsible of me! More so than usual! Am I supposed to be holding it? Do lizards like being held? Is it even a lizard?"
Ensign 5390 took a step back as Talos brandished the possibly-a-lizard in front of his helmet. The lizard shifted to keep its perch in Talos' palm. Talos continued his rant.
"It was created by dream-stuff derived from an impossible painting. What does that mean? Is Omnilli-stuff permanent? Have I brought it into existence just to crumble into nothingness in a few bittersweet hours? I am morally responsible for the continued existence of a creature I know nothing about. WHAT DO LIZARDS EAT?"
"Bugs?" Ensign 5390 guessed. "You could, make bugs for it?"
"Are you SERIOUSLY proposing that I use my godlike powers to MANUFACTURE LIFE for the EXPRESS PURPOSE of being EATEN?" said Talos.
Ensign 5390 was experienced enough with superior officers to tell when a question was rhetorical, and so said nothing.
"Though, to be entirely fair, it could be argued that much of animal husbandry is in that business," Talos said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And I suppose farms aren't morally reprehensible. Though, there feels like a difference between raising a chicken to eventually eat, and manifesting a chicken to be immediately devoured."
"You could make a dead chicken," Ensign 5390 suggested.
This suggestion took Talos by surprise to the point of brief speechlessness. After a few seconds, Ensign 5390 continued tentatively into the unaccustomed silence.
"Or, I mean, dead bugs. And a dead chicken. Both I guess, if you don't know what it eats."
"That," Talos began, pointing at Ensign 5390. "Would work. I think. You are very sensible and I am very grateful."
"Okay," said Ensign 5390. "Great. Would you like to join the Empire?"
There was another long pause. During it Talos glanced from Ensign 5390, to the other uniformed guards, to the other intimidating steel arch. He very slowly drew back, folding his free hand protectively over his lizard.
"No...I'm good. Thanks."
"To live in this world you must be able to do three things:
To love what is mortal;
To hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it;
And, when the time comes to let it go,
To let it go." – Mary Oliver
To love what is mortal;
To hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it;
And, when the time comes to let it go,
To let it go." – Mary Oliver