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The negati king rests their head against the pillows, curling into themselves to finally drift. Fall into a slumber most needed after such a stressful day of inhabitant intake.
It wouldn’t have been so hectic if it wasn’t for the fact they were still cleaning up after the ‘Rupture’ incident. Equally, needing to welcome back inhabitants they’d saved from the brink of destruction so they could be healed properly put a bad taste in their mouth. They should’ve been able to do it the first time, and not need to call them all back in for the correct rehabilitation. The poor humans were scared half to death initially, some lashing out while others merely stood there without moving, praying to be sent back to whence they’ve come.
The thrown together explanation they’d given to placate didn’t seem effective by much, but it at least calmed a few. All still hesitant to re-enter Wonderworld, but Lance was confident that their perspective would change as time went on.
They knew, deep down, some of these humans would never be able to recover from the traumas they’d faced whilst controlled by The Rupture. Especially the last few that had received the brute force of it all. Poor souls, all of them. Perhaps tomorrow, Lance will visit some of them. A checkup, merely routine for them to observe for a small period of time. Questions would be asked to see how they were faring, and if anything needed to be adjusted. A long day of prancing around inhabitant realms awaited the poor maestro, unable to catch a true break until the evening.
Henceforth as to why they locked their door, and shoved a bookcase up against it for good measure. Balan couldn’t break in this way, demanding yet another thing of them. Their mind desired the limitless reaches of midnight dreams and muses, thoughts becoming images to enjoy almost like a late night television program. Upon the soft nest of blankets and pillows, body lax with comfort, sleep could finally whisk them away from their mundane.
On the brink, when just teetering at the edge, there’s a soft plop against the comforter. Then another. And a few more. Softly cooing and chirping for attention, a few climbing onto their side as they lay. Nudging and nestling, wanting to be a part of the warm nest. Lance could recognize the burrowing behaviors anywhere, and merely chuckles at their expenses. An eye doesn’t need to peel open to tell that negati have come to rest beside them. But, against better judgement, they peer to see just who disturbed them on this night.
A few parasols, which wasn’t abnormal. Some of the smaller ones as well, pointed masks down turned as if to suggest they were sorry for intruding. One of the shielded negati also came to visit, the spikes commonly adorning their protective gear having been receded. The sight is heartwarming. Knowing that they’ve come only to sleep with their protector makes Lance crack a small smile, albeit subdued and bleary due to fatigue.
“Oh… you little ones…,” Lance yawns out, a few of their loose tendrils coming to wrap around the nest disturbers. Coddled, swaddled like a baby, the tendrils hold the negati close to their king. Sweet cheeps of approval resonate the expanse of the dimly lit room. All they wanted was to be close, to be held. Loved and adored by the one they called their king. Misunderstood, just like Lance was themself. A bond built on a mutual understanding, they could not be apart.
The candles blow out with a slight breeze carried through the room, but those occupying the nest are too far in their dreams to even notice.