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Doremy adjusted her hat and flicked her tail, paging through an immense tome of names. Names, names, names, nothing but names from top to bottom. When peering through the set of reading glasses set on the bridge of her nose, each was marked with a colored dot beside it, in a vivid spectrum of greens, yellows and reds. Mostly one or the other, thankfully.
The dream world was ever so more nuanced than reality, and so too were its standards on the already vague concepts of naughty and nice.
She was familiar with this song and dance, having done it perhaps dozens of times before at the behest of jolly old Saint Nick and his elves. After all, what was the holiday season without fanciful dreams of sugarplums and general niceties? But it was just as difficult to cover the entire dreaming realm of the Medium as it was to cover the physical Crossroads, if not even moreso due to its ever-changing nature. That meant it was only natural to hire a local familiar with the metaphorical lay of the metaphorical land, and given how well she already looked the part, Doremy was the obvious choice.
This meant that each and every year, she was sent out to go and make sure that no one on the good list was subjected to nightmares by devouring their dreams before they could progress to that point.
Hey, what did they expect, hiring a dream eater?
That being said, she did occasionally have the thought pass her mind that it was far more trouble than it was worth. Having a nonstop stomach-ache from eating nothing but nightmares for weeks at a time was... draining. Surely there was an easier and more time efficient way. Perhaps a bit of assistance? That was what the elves had hired her for in the first place, just as another set of hands on deck. It wasn't like getting a bit more help was all that different from what they were doing with her in the first place.
Dream selves were typically uncooperative, however. Without the lucid layer of consciousness to control their actions, they typically became belligerent when asked for much of anything, let alone work. And she wasn't about to just yank aside just any normal person and potentially risk them getting trapped here. Not that she was morally above it, but rather that it seemed like even more hassle than just dealing with a stomachache.
Her eyes lingered on the page, eventually landing on a cluster of names that had never been there before- two conspicuously missing markings, and one marked in a brilliant red. Well, without free will, perhaps they would be more cooperative, she reasoned. And the other? She'd just consider it repayment on an old debt. A debt in her sister's name, perhaps, but-
That smug smile reappeared on her face, and she flipped the book closed. Took off her reading glasses. Righted herself, and floated off in a direction seemingly at random. Thankfully, it seemed like they were already on their way in.
They'd do.
The dream world was ever so more nuanced than reality, and so too were its standards on the already vague concepts of naughty and nice.
She was familiar with this song and dance, having done it perhaps dozens of times before at the behest of jolly old Saint Nick and his elves. After all, what was the holiday season without fanciful dreams of sugarplums and general niceties? But it was just as difficult to cover the entire dreaming realm of the Medium as it was to cover the physical Crossroads, if not even moreso due to its ever-changing nature. That meant it was only natural to hire a local familiar with the metaphorical lay of the metaphorical land, and given how well she already looked the part, Doremy was the obvious choice.
This meant that each and every year, she was sent out to go and make sure that no one on the good list was subjected to nightmares by devouring their dreams before they could progress to that point.
Hey, what did they expect, hiring a dream eater?
That being said, she did occasionally have the thought pass her mind that it was far more trouble than it was worth. Having a nonstop stomach-ache from eating nothing but nightmares for weeks at a time was... draining. Surely there was an easier and more time efficient way. Perhaps a bit of assistance? That was what the elves had hired her for in the first place, just as another set of hands on deck. It wasn't like getting a bit more help was all that different from what they were doing with her in the first place.
Dream selves were typically uncooperative, however. Without the lucid layer of consciousness to control their actions, they typically became belligerent when asked for much of anything, let alone work. And she wasn't about to just yank aside just any normal person and potentially risk them getting trapped here. Not that she was morally above it, but rather that it seemed like even more hassle than just dealing with a stomachache.
Her eyes lingered on the page, eventually landing on a cluster of names that had never been there before- two conspicuously missing markings, and one marked in a brilliant red. Well, without free will, perhaps they would be more cooperative, she reasoned. And the other? She'd just consider it repayment on an old debt. A debt in her sister's name, perhaps, but-
That smug smile reappeared on her face, and she flipped the book closed. Took off her reading glasses. Righted herself, and floated off in a direction seemingly at random. Thankfully, it seemed like they were already on their way in.
They'd do.
514 words. Expect the rest of this thread to be way less coherent, at least on my end.