Chapter Text
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- - - BREAK 0 - - - INTRODUCTION - - - IN MY LITTLE PLACE - - -
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[Star] is tired.
[Star]'s eyes sag with deep dark circles digging into their faded iridescent fur.
[Star]'s small rodent-like form is often seen floating in place, staring into nothing.
[Star] hopes that sleeping for a long time will cure them of their drowsiness.
[Star] believes it to be true, so it becomes true.
Such is their nature.
Let the world they created turn and pass them by as they take a long, selfish nap.
[Star] rests their eyes inside a cozy shed, where time is slowed,
inside a painted diorama of a purple moon, where time is slowed,
inside a sphere made of light, where time is slowed,
inside a steel shell, where time is slowed,
inside a tangle of petrified vines, where time is slowed,
inside,,,
,
a fragile balloon..
in the shape of a jungle.
...
In sleep, they can't help but dream, for it is in their nature.
The act of dreaming is similar to creation, is it not?
Wandering in a labyrinth of your own subconscious's making.
wait...
[Star] is not supposed to be creating, they're supposed to be resting!
There's a whole world out there to return to when [Star] wakes up.
They have... or had friends?
If they spiral downwards into dreams within dreams, they'll never get to see what became of their universe.
...
FINE
[Star] will dream about a finite, looping cube of existence, 225 meters on all sides.
No more than that.
In the center will be a cozy floating island, 75 meters in diameter.
Bright lime grass carpets where gravity pushes against the island.
There's a leafless tree with a hanging tire on the edge.
A small white house with basic furniture sits in the center,
inside the house sits a stack of papers that never shortens.
Hanging by the ceiling floats a set of crayons that never wear.
...
On sunday [Star] draws a picture with crayons on paper.
On monday [Star] looks for a place to pin their picture.
On tuesday [Star] builds a comfortable pillow fort.
On wednesday [Star] gazes into the black looping void.
On thursday [Star] takes down the pillow fort.
On friday [Star] hunts for bugs in the grass.
On saturday [Star] rocks on the hanging tire.
A long, long amount of time passes...
The crayons stain [Star]'s pastel pink paws into a grimy dark color.
Inches of scribbly paper drawings cover every hard surface.
Paint flakes peel off the walls of the house and cling to [Star]'s irritated skin.
The tire's rope snaps and it bounces off the side of the island, looping endlessly in the black.
Tiny bugs in the grass multiply and discolor the green with wriggling worms and maggots.
This dream isn't so nice anymore...
What will [Star] do?
What can [Star] do?
In a barely conscious haze of desperation,
with the memory that this dream wasn't supposed to be a nightmare,
[Star] can create:
(Dust)
A friend!
Similar in size and form to [Star], (Dust) resembles a floating bunny.
Their fur illuminates surrounding matter with a dim turquoise glow despite being a textured black.
A bushy fox tail thins into a yellow dot of light at the end.
Cosmic pinks and reds swirl hypnotically together inside their two glowing eyes.
Behind their eyes lies a compulsive mind that will complete any task here without objection.
A small muzzle with a beautiful smile, just barely letting two tiny fangs peek out.
A perfect friend-shaped friend!
(Dust) helps their sleepy friend clean up the derelict island.
Yes, they were designed with the instinct to upkeep...
but even so-
(Dust) can't believe their friend let it get this bad!
seriously
( "This filth is disgusting." )
( "What the heck, dude?" )
( "Haha!" )
( "You gotta take care of yourself more." )
( "Hahahaha~" )
( "It's okay!" )
( "Your best friend (Dust) has got it all under control." )
It takes a long while, but...
(Dust) collects maggots in origami boxes and tosses them off the edge of the island.
(Dust) figures that retrieving the tire is a lost cause and ties a pillow in its place.
(Dust) scrapes the house's peeling paint away and presses the toxic flakes in specially marked paper boxes.
(Dust) saves the coherent drawings in neat piles and crumples the rest into paper mache.
(Dust) licks what they can of the oil off [Star]'s paws, dimming their glowing fuchsia tongue with a bitter stain.
They had no use for a sense of taste, anyway.
As (Dust) keeps cleaning the island, [Star] mumbles to them with stories about places from outside of here.
( "Cleaning up this mess of a yard is reward enough, but the stories are appreciated, [Star]!" )
While [Star] may not be a great groundskeeper, they are a fantastic storyteller.
[Star] speaks of small fluffy creatures working together to build giant cities.
Strong friends teaming up to convince a god that they are worthy of love!
A time capsule holding many time capsules within time capsules hiding an ex-god dreaming about trying not to dream too much...
On sunday, [Star] and (Dust) draw together. (Dust) thinks [Star]'s drawings are better but [Star] promises that they enjoy (Dust)'s art just the same.
On monday, [Star] looks for a place to pin their good drawings while (Dust) licks anything neither of them liked into paper mache.
On tuesday, (Dust) and [Star] build pillow-forts. [Star]'s forts are bigger on the inside, leading to fluffy labyrinths ripe for hide-and-seek.
On wednesday, (Dust) carefully watches [Star] clean up any pocket dimensions or tears in space-time made from their pillow forts.
On thursday, (Dust) and (Star) try to see shapes in the waterfall of junk building up past the sides of the island. Sometimes they even find the tire and theorize about the family of bugs that seem to have made a home inside it.
On friday, (Dust) digs through the ground clearing out swarms of maggots. While (Dust) works, [Star] tells them stories about their old home. [Star] often speaks of their many, many friends of many different shapes, colors, sizes, and resting body heats.
On saturday, (Dust) and [Star] take turns pushing each-other on the pillow swing.
After a long, long amount of time, (Dust) starts to run out of room to put their trash.
Crumbled balls of (Dust)'s paper mache sculptures bounce off the sides of the island like raindrops.
(Dust) don't want to burden [Star] with their only job but...
they know they can't keep this up forever.
One fateful thursday, (Dust) pleads with [Star] for a way to delete matter.
!!!
[Star] is a creator and dreamer. They are not a destroyer.
(Dust) recognizes fear in [Star]'s tired eyes.
( "Don't worry [Star]! I'll try to figure something out myself." )
( "How about you rest alone today, alright?" )
( "Are you going to be alright alone?" )
( "Alright! Thank you [Star]." )
( "I promise I won't tell you if I find anything scary." )
(Dust) floats into the storm, weaving between torrents of crumpled paper and forgotten ideas.
(Dust) gets lost, but always finds their way back to the edge of the island.
It quickly becomes a game:
Trying to find something destructive or trying to get back to the island-
like wandering a labyrinth-
like wandering a dream-
like creation.
(Dust) is creating something new in their mind.
[Star] now spends thursdays alone while (Dust) plays in the paper downpour outside.
As fun as it is, (Dust) hasn't solved their problem yet.
The storm is becoming denser.
(Dust) fears soon they’ll have to “stuff” their discarded garbage off the island rather than “toss”
[Star]'s guilt grows every time they throw away a new drawing.
Maggots eat the paper mache and spit out beige lumps that rot into irritating black dust.
Swarms of dead maggots and half-eaten paper constantly litter the sides of the island like hail.
This isn't fun anymore.
This space is completely finite.
I just want to help [Star].
I need to get out of here!
(Dust) will find a way to help [Star].
(Dust) will find a way to escape.
One day, emboldened by a curiosity wholly theirs, (Dust) steals a pillow fort pocket dimension and keeps it just below and to the side of the island.
[Star] seems awfully insistent about closing these.
The black substance bleeding from the crack blends into the rest of the void as it’s soaked up by the rest of their falling garbage.
[Star] doesn't seem to notice.
The tiny crack rots and fractures the space around it.
The longer (Dust) pokes at it, the more it cracks open.
Now it’s big enough to dispose of the scraps of paper and maggot dust through.
Now it’s big enough to fit their whole paw through.
Now it’s big enough to see through.
Peering through clouds of glowing fog, (Dust) sees:
The inside of a cozy wooden shack with a sleeping iridescent-colored creature.
Glowing fog drips upwards from their mind, forming into the world (Dust) is peeking out of.
The clumps of dead maggots and paper mache shreds (Dust) has been tossing through litters the place.
Mounds of wax and unknown knickknacks circle around the dreaming creature.
(Dust) can't make it all out.
This reminds (Dust) of one of [Star]'s stories.
The one about the dreaming god.
The dreaming creature looks exactly like [Star]?
(Dust) calls out to the creature.
( "[Star]?" )
The creature shifts for a moment.
Their universe shifts for a moment.
Maybe (Dust) shouldn't do that again...
(Dust) returns to a distraught [Star].
Seems [Star] felt the dream falter for a moment, too.
( "Don't worry [Star]" )
( "I promise that if I find anything, I'll be careful." )
( "Stay at ease while I do all the fun work~" )
( "I'll gladly handle the responsibility- if there is one, haha!" )
Thursday after thursday, (Dust) picks away at the scabbing rift.
Thursday after thursday, (Dust) stuffs the island's waste away.
(Dust) looks forwards to thursdays.
The days that things change and the storm clears up.
This kind of curiosity was not supposed to be in (Dust)'s nature, but they developed it just to help their friend.
(Dust) fits their head through the rift, whiskers brushing past the sides of their reality.
The clearer perspective reveals the purpose of the room.
This is the resting place of a creator who believed they didn't deserve the praise of and for their creations.
Letters, notes, and poems detailing different kinds of love from a universe thankful for its making.
(Dust) has been using this place as a garbage disposal.
(Dust) has been desecrating this place!
( "How could (Dust)?!" )
(Dust) tears past the rift, leaving the dream they lived in for the first time in their life.
(Dust) quietly gathers up all the junk they've been dumping here into one pile by the corner of the room.
(Dust) inspects the waxy mounds sitting near the sleeping creature, guessing that they were once lit candles.
(Dust) floats in front of a locked door at the edge of the room, battling the urge to peek past it.
(Dust) flips through pages of books and letters from what were probably [Star]'s old friends.
They say they'll miss [Star], and hope that [Star] has a pleasant nap.
(Dust) isn't sure what to feel.
(Dust) pledges to return here next thursday.
(Dust) flies back into the dream within the glowing cloud of fog.
[Star] is curled up in the center of their house's floor, crying.
( *Gasp!* )
( "[Star], what's wrong?" )
( "Were you lonely without me?" )
( "There, there..." )
( "I'm so sorry." )
( "I..." )
( "I promise I'll warn you next time I'll be gone for so long." )
( "huh..?" )
( "You don't want to be alone again?" )
( "ummmm..." )
( "Do you want to come with me?" )
( "You don't??" )
( "What'll we do to stop the garbage from piling up?" )
( "..." )
( "Y'know what?" )
( "I have an idea." )
( "How about we make another friend?" )
[Star] makes a horrified expression at the idea. (Dust) doesn't understand.
( "No, like- think about it!" )
( "An extra player to play games with." )
( "Another warm body to cuddle with." )
( "Most of all, someone to look after you while I'm gone!" )
[Star] pulls (Dust) close and whispers something in their ear.
[Star] will agree as long as (Dust) NEVER convinces [Star] to ever create a fourth being here.
( "I promise." )
( "I don't understand why but I promise." )
...
Iterations of crayon blueprints pile up.
Spiraling paper mache sculptures of different animal parts sit outside the house.
(Dust) and [Star] agree that {The new friend} must have soft, warm fur.
[Star] grows a large body that's just big enough for both (Dust) and [Star] to comfortably lie on.
(Dust) colors their eyes with a cosmic golden shimmer.
[Star] gifts them with poor eyesight so they may decide reality for themself.
(Dust) insists they must have a bottomless stomach made of pure destructive energy.
[Star] grants them a calm, complacent mind.
(Dust) sculpts a blueprint for a long tail peppered with white spots that ends with a convulsing scribble.
[Star] gives {Nova} a name.
{Nova} resembles a large ferret.
They have deep, dark blue fur with subtle gold rings on their outer coat.
The scribble at the end of {Nova}'s tail glows a bright white light.
Sparks of orange destructive energy can be seen from the inside of their mouth when they yawn.
(Dust) and [Star] finally agree that {Nova} is perfect, and [Star] grants {Nova} consciousness.
On sundays they all draw together. {Nova} enjoys incorporating clusters of spirals into their drawings, which (Dust) often takes inspiration from in their paper mache sculptures.
On mondays [Star] and {Nova} appreciate each other's drawings while (Dust) goes out doing something private.
On tuesdays they get lost in each other's pillow forts. (Dust) often disappears when there are no eyes on them.
On wednesdays (Dust) collects [Star]'s pillow forts and asks them not to worry about what (Dust) is going to do with the pocket dimensions inside.
On thursdays [Star] and {Nova} try to pick out either (Dust) or the tire with the cute bug family probably inside from the thinning downpour of junk looping past the island. (Dust) is almost never to be seen.
On fridays {Nova} slurps up bugs from the ground while [Star] tells them stories. (Dust) insists that they have no reason to be present these days.
On saturdays they all cuddle together. {Nova} feels (Dust)'s breathing and heartbeat relax on these days.
As the junk clears up, {Nova} begins to barely make out (Dust) traveling to the same spot beneath the island out of view of {Nova} and [Star].
{Nova} does not ask (Dust) what they are up to, as that kind of curiosity is not in their nature.
{Nova} does however take inspiration from the mystery.
{Nova} draws what they imagine (Dust)'s adventures to be like from beneath the island.
{Nova} writes about (Dust) making friends with the nest of bugs in the looping tire.
{Nova} tells stories about (Dust) making a spiraling paper mache world within their borrowed pocket dimensions.
Even if {Nova} is incorrect, [Star] quite enjoys {Nova}'s stories about (Dust).
[Star] is inspired to wonder about what (Dust) is doing.
[Star] worries about what (Dust) is doing.
{Nova} turns their stories to more friendly and cozy ones, hoping to ease [Star]'s nerves.
They do not.
On a particularly anxious monday, [Star] asks {Nova} to work up the courage to look for (Dust).
{Nova} agrees once [Star] promises that they'll be ok alone for a while.
{Nova} promises to be back as soon as they can.
{Nova} kisses [Star] goodbye.