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Guardians: Malta and Poecileth

.....

Name: Talaas

Major stage:

Minor Stage: Preteen

Dream Type: Emotional

Specific 'Nature' Passion

Personality:

Talaas is a crusader at heart, a passionate defender and advocate to her very core. Of what... well, who knows. The day is still young. She never knows what will light her up next. Will it be a person, a cause, an object? Will it be more than one of these? She has enough energy to go around. If she was a troublemaker, her boundless energy and unchained enthusiasm would be overwhelming. Its enough of a handful, though, that she simply can't sit still. Theres always something that needs her- HER- support.
Thankfully, the sorts of things she gets passionate about tend to be 'positive';Save the Elephants! Save the Whales! Save the Spotted owl! Stop all bullying in the school! Give her brother that new thing he wants!
Well, maybe not the last one.
Her enthusiasm and excitement can turn into obsessions. She is capable of sustaining multiple obsessions at once, and does so. It's stressful to her and to those around her, because she has no time for herself. She is surrounded by so many things that others have started and that she supports, sometimes she wonders what SHE really wants. It frustrates her that she can't 'turn it off'.
She often expresses herself artistically through poetry, writing, and visual media. She may not be the best painter or writer, but she does have a sense for powerful language and how colors work together.
Because there is so much on her mind, and so many causes to work on, her long term planning abilities suffer.
In short, she is an energetic and enthusiastic individual who needs someone who can steady her and keep her from overloading herself.

Relationships


Positive:

Neutral:

Negative:

Art

Reserved

Differing stories - Lost Nano Prompt - 2212 words

When Mihiil came out of his shower, Talaas was waiting for him in their room, her feet swinging impatiently against the bed. They were similar in so many respects, from their sparkling eyes to the way they had wrapped their respective hair up in their towel. Mihiil's calmer reaction to seeing her so obviously full of energy belied their differences.
"Well?" she said ipudently, looking at him with fierce expectation.
"Well what?" yawned Mihiil as he stretched and flopped on his bed on his side of their room. Talaas leaned in, her brow furrowed in frustration.
"What happened?!"
"What happened when?" he asked lazily, settling into the comfortable mattress. He wasn't really after an anseer, though he was sure he would receive one whether he wanted it or not.
"What happened to you when we got separated, you nitwit!" she said, restraining herself from screaming, "At the park! Today!" she explained, glaring at her twin in frustration, "Don't you have a story about it?"
It had been quite an event. They had been in the big park with their guardian Poecileth- Malta had had to work, but the dragon didn't seem to mind not having their partner around for the park romp. Both were firm believers in the outdoors as critical to the health of children of all sorts, even children based on emotions. Poe had even given them free reign- as long as they stayed within sight, she had no problem with where they did or went.
The twins had always been together, ever since they had hatched, and it was no different in the park. What was different were their likes and dislikes. They were no stranger to playing nearby but apart.
Yet this time- and neither they nor their guardian knew why or how- they had been playing nearby one moment and the next moment neither guardian nor twin were in sight. Perhaps it was a weird reality flux, or perhaps it was just a perfect storm of accidents, but that day, for the first time, the twins had been separated, alone, and lost, until Poecileth had found them both with several frantic flybys over the park.
"Oh. That." said Mihiil. It had been traumatic for him, sure. He just didn't feel like talking about it. Still, he knew his sister wouldn't let the matter rest until he said something substantial. It was just who she was. He closed his eyes and smiled at the creamy yellow-white ceiling above them.

"Nothing much, really." he said, remembering lazily...

~~~
He had been lost in a cornfield maze that had been set up in preparation for the fall months and the various holidays celebrated within. It had seemed interesting, and so he had gone. By the time he realized he was alone, he was thoroughly lost in the maze, and without his sister to feed him motivation, he didn't really care. He wandered around the maze for a while before noncommittally giving up and plunking his butt down by the side of the path, smiling at anybody that passed by him.
A few people passed by them, and he had given them a friendly smile and a hello, getting a friendly smile and a hello in return. People were so nice, honestly. He thought they were great. He just didn't feel like doing anything more than watching them go by and staring up at the placid sky.
Then one man walked by and Mihiil's attention was grabbed by the man's belt. It jangled and chimed as he moved.
"Hi!" Mihiil had greeted him, and saw, as the man came closer, that the belt was full of keys of all shapes and colors. Some were sheened metal, others were sparkly as if made from gemstones, and some looked like they were made of ethereal light.
"Hello to you too, young man." said the man, stopping to tip his grey fedora to the boy, "A fine day to relax in the middle of a maze of maize, don't you think?"
"Huh?" Mihiil had said, not quite understanding.
"Maize, young man, is related to corn. You are sitting in a maze of maize."
"Ohhhh! Neat!"
"Yes. It is. Very... neat. the man nodded, and Mihiil realized that no matter how he looked at the man, he couldn't see his eyes from beneath the brim of the hat. "Tell me, young man, have you any particular reason for sitting here in the middle of the maze?" it was hard to tell which maze the man meant, now that Mihiil knew that it could be two wholly different things.
"Nah, not really." said Mihiil, deciding he didn't care about the eye weirdness, his attention returning to the belt, "It's comfortable here, and it smells real nice."
"Ah yes." the strange man nodded in agreement, "The fall smells of dry and dying plant matter. A lovely smell of life, is it not?"
"I guess?" Mihiil had never thought about it that way. Decay wasn't a thing he thought about much at all. "Why do you have so many keys, mister?" he asked after a pause of hesitation, "Because thats, like, a ton of houses and cars, I bet."
The man shrugged. "I have these keys because... I have them. I wear them because I wear them."
"Thats not an answer." said Mihiil lazily.
"Indeed."
Mihiil looked at the strange man for a moment. "Can I touch them?" he asked suddenly. They were far too interesting not to touch. He wanted to feel them, and he wanted to know if some of them were actually real.
The man seemed taken aback. "... Very well." said the man, unlooping his belt and holding it out to the boy, "Take nothing."
"I won't, mister! don't worry!"

Mihiil had inspected the belt and handed it back and the man went on his way. It had been so strange the way the man had looked back, as if assessing him, but Mihiil had thought nothing of it. He'd just stayed there, watching the clouds, until Poecileth had swooped into the maze to scoop him up and bring him back to the playground to reunite with his sister.

~~~

"... so yeah." Mihiil said, yawning once more, "I just played with some keys and waited and then Mama poe came along. Nothing interesting."
The way her brother had told the story left much to be desired for Talaas. She pouted at him. "Thats it? Wheres the action? Wheres the adventure? Why didn't you ask him about the keys?!" Mihiil shrugged, and she huffed in exasperation.
"Well I had an adventure!" she kicked her feet against her bed, enough to make a sound, "Now wake up so I can tell it to you!"
"Fine..." muttered Mihiil, but she didn't hear him... she had already started on her story.

~~~

Talaas had found no mazes or traps or tricky paths to lead her astray- no. She had become lost in an open and unfamiliar area of the park, lured there by small interesting beetles that she had followed as they had flown. She had loved them so. It almost seemed feasable that she could dedicate her young life to these beetles, if she wasn't dedicating herself to a thousand other causes. The beetles were forgotten, however, when she had realized that neither her dragon guardian nor her brother were in sight. Concern became unease and unease soon blossomed into a passionate and paranoid panic. Would she ever find them again? Were they lost in the chaotic city of dreams? Was she the one lost? She didn't know and she was frightened and directionless. Without her brother around to give her the focus she craved, she had to go for a more sensible option- ask an adult for help.
She looked around nervously for someone who seemed respectable and responsible and nice to talk to.
Finally, she found one.
"Hi." she said, walking up to a woman sitting on a park bench. The woman looked worried, as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders, but that meant she was probably harmless and she seemed intelligent and, since there were no policemen or park rangers in sight, harmless and intelligent was the next best thing. "I'm lost. Can you help me?"
The woman stared at her for a moment, her eyes blank. Then she blinked, offering a slight smile. "Oh, hello. Well, um... I don't know if I can. You see, I've lost something too. I'm not the best one to help you, I'm sorry dear. her face twisted into something wistful and almost painful to see, "... but if you see my son- a persian cat manifest, only a small child- on your wanderings, could you tell him that mommy is waiting here and is very worried?" Talaas looked at the woman, and put a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm going to help you find your son!" she said, feeling suddenly renewed and invigorated. This was the purpose she craved, a mission to take her mind away from being lost and alone. "Where was he when you saw him last?"
The woman was surprised, understandably. "Over there, by those trees. I turned around a moment and he was gone... but, ah... she looked away, "No, no, dear, don't... don't bother. You have your own family to find... I'll find a policeman to help me when they come by."
"No." said Talaas putting her hands on her hips and posing heroically, "I'm gonna find your son!" and she was off to search before the woman could say another word.

She checked the dog park, the gardens, the skating park, and the playground, but there was no cat child anywhere to be found. She glared at the unhelpful slide and swingset, frustrated. Where was this little boy? Where could he have gone? Impatiently and perhaps a little absentmindedly, Talaas turned towards a patch of meadowland nearby the playground, where the soft cushioned turf of the playground gave way to soft dirt and finally the leaf litter of a giant cherry tree. She'd made a promise to the woman, and had taken up the banner of FINDING THE KITTY CHILD and if she let that banner fall, she would be back to square one, with panic as her only companion.

Wait a moment. The grass in the meadow... was it what she thought it was? She scampered over, hope renewed in her chest.
It was!
Cat n**!

She started searching the meadow brush with renewed vigor! A cat manifest, right? Cats loved catnip, otherwise it would be named something else, of course he would be here, she couldn't allow herself to doubt it. It was good that she hadn't given up, because there was the young cat child, behind a bush, on his back just completely blissed out of his skull. She picked him up- the small thing that he was, and started to head back to where the woman would surely be waiting.

The boy was still sleeping in her arms as she walked towards the bench where the woman sat still, her shoulders slumped. Her eyes, Talaas realized, were closed as if in sleep, but the dark circles and tear tracks underneath them said otherwise.

"Ma'am?" she asked, freeing one hand to nudge the woman's shoulder, "I found him" she said, her voice full of an almost smug pride. The woman looked at her tiredly for a moment before her face blossomed into a relieved smile. She extended her arms to take the child from Talaas's hands.
"S-so you did!" she said, cuddling the little cat child to her chest, "I... I thank you." they both looked up at the sound of wings as Poecileth landed nearby, Mihiil on her back.

she said telepathically, her eyes gleaming a calm hue,

"Yes!" said the woman, gathering her child and her things, "and... and the thanks is all yours, miss dragon"
said Poecileth as Talaas joined Mihiil on her back,

"... And then she praised me and promised to get cookie ingredients so that Malta can make me something special. But you knew that." she said, smiling at her brother, a smile that faded as she realized he had fallen asleep. "Didn't you?!" she said giving him a shove.

"Mnuhhh?" he mumbled, stirring and looking at his sister with blearly eyes. Sure, her story had been interesting, but she had gone on and on and on, forever. Why shouldn't he fall asleep? "Hnmm, oh. Yeah." he said, closing his eyes again, "Go to sleep, Lala." he said into his pillow, closing his eyes again.

Talaas grumbled unhappily, scowling at him discouragedly, before standing up and turning of the lights to her room.
"G'night" she said grumpily, pulling up her sheets and settling into bed.

"G'night." said Mihiil to her, "And... Lala? Lets not do that again, okay?"

She nodded, their soft blue nightlight revealing the movement. No more getting lost or separated... That, she could agree with.

Frustration ~ NANO Addiction ~ 2004words - Mihiil (with a bit of Malta)

Mihiil stared at his painting, his smile growing from slight and bemused to a proud grin as he looked over his handiwork. It was a watercolor study all in blue. He had wanted to see if he could do it and, somehow, he had. Blue, in all of it's glory, seemed fitting for the events of the past six days.

It was a bit surprising for Talaas to get sick- it was the first time in her life that either she or Mihiil had been ill.
She'd been so sick that she had had to stay home in bed, and Malta with her. Mihiil remembered how her aura had felt; dull, sluggish, but still Talaas. Talaas felt like the zing you needed in the morning, the panic before a big test, and the feeling of competing against someone, all combined and purified into pure motivation. Mihiil, no matter how he felt towards his sister on any given day, had always known that he had needed that.
But Malta and Poecileth still had to send him to school. Alone. Without his sister. At first, he thought he was going to be fine. He got through the ride there, and the first class, as usual. They had been separated for short times before, and her aura had a lingering effect on him. But by class two, he had really started to feel her absence.
In terms of blue, that moment, in the middle of class, had been a darkening twilight blue, the sort you see just as night starts and day ends. The emptiness of the seat just a row away from him seemed painfully obvious. The chair called out for a butt to fill it. His sister needed to be there. She wasn't. He had started to flag by that class, and could only motivate himself enough to lay his head on his arms and watch the teacher pace and present. By the time the day had ended, he was in a sort of sleepwalking haze, vaguely upset, but nothing else either way. Finally, he returned home and almost instantly, he was hit with his sister's aura. Suddenly, he was alive, more alive than he had felt all day. He had wanted that feeling so badly and, now that he had it again, it was a relief.

That relief and joy was short lived. The next day, Talaas was even sicker. The scent of cooking soup filled the house as Mihiil grudgingly went back to school. This day was even worse. Lunch saw him not particularly caring much about anything. He barely ate, and just sat on a swing and let it take him back and forth. Looking back on it now, he barely remembered what he had done all that day. Had he paid attention in class? Had he slept? He didn't know. He hadn't cared. Returning home was invigorating, but, as he took off his coat and boots and ate a cold dinner- Malta had made it early for Talaas- he realized that he was upset. He was frustrated. He was Angry. He hadn't realized he could have those emotions as strongly as he did. He wasn't sure if he was upset with himself, with his sister, with Malta (for whatever reason) or the cold food. But he could feel it inside.

Day three was simply Bizzare. By the second class, he felt less catatonic than usual. He had something strange inside him, a frustration he couldn't quite shake. A need to do something. He wanted to pay attention. He wanted to do things. Why couldn't he do them? Why did his sister need to be around? It built up and, by the last class, he had resolved to, if this continued (which it looked like it would, Talaas was very sick) he would do something. Anything. He returned home that day, and Talaas' aura only intensified how he felt.

When he went to school the next day, Talaas still recovering at home, he resolved to try to be the sort of person he was when she was there. He tensed his shoulders, straightened his back, and forced himself to pay attention to every word, dragging himself back when he felt himself begin to drift off. It was difficult, but by the end of the day he had managed it, at least partially. Partially was a lot for Mihiil. He had never done so much on his own before. He was exhausted.
Talaas's aura felt welcome and refreshing, if still dulled. With it, he felt more than exhaustion- he felt a fierce pride.

He had tried it again on day 5. The first class he did great, even answering the teacher's questions and participating in class- something he never had done before. In the second class, he managed to take notes, another first. The third class seemed to go well too. He sat down, back straight, arm limber, brain intent. But, midway though, he crashed. It came on suddenly, without warning; one moment, he was energetic and actively participating in class. The next moment, that brilliant, saturated color of emotion became dimmed, like a light. Suddenly, he just didn't care. Not at all. He just wanted to put his head on his arms again and wait for class to end.
He must have fallen asleep badly, because he woke up in the nurses room, her desk phone glowing with the familiar number of the Dreamery. He watched, only able to be vaguely interested, as she called another familiar number- Home. Malta soon came to pick him up from the school after a conversation with the nurse that he couldn't care enough to listen to, even if he wanted to.

That night, she sat him down with a bowl of soup until Talaas's aura and the family recipe had perked him up.
"Mihiil?" she'd said. Malta had a way of looking worried and smiling at the same time, and she did it then. "I think... I think you and your sister may have an addiction. To each other."

Mihiil looked at her. The sleepwalker-like catatonia had decayed into a deep fatigue, but he at least listened and understood. "What do you mean?"

"You need each other. Maybe too much. I've been talking to Talaas too, and... as a doctor..." she bit her lip nervously, "Thats all I can conclude. I think... we need to separate you.... No, not completely!" she said frantically, waving her hands to calm him as he nearly dropped his spoon in shock. The idea filled him with more dread than he realized was possible. "I mean... not have you together all the time. Maybe different classes, or separate rooms..."
"I like my room." said Mihiil, confused.
"W... well, we'll see. But I'm going to have the school keep you separate from now on... No more accommodations. Thats my prognosis as a doctor..." she looked away, as if she had said something to be ashamed of, "I... Poecileth and I... want the best for both of you, and we worry so much, I just... I'm sorry!"
"Okay..." he said, shrugging despondently. He frowned deeply. This was not what he wanted, but he didn't care enough to fight it. He just didn't care.
"... you like art, right, Mihiil?" asked Malta suddenly.
"Sure?" he said. He didn't feel anything about it one way or another.
"The dreamery recommended art therapy for both of you. They say its a good way to balance emotional manifests. I'm going to sign you both up for art therapy sessions. I know of a good series of groups..."
"Sure." he said, again, not particularly able to care.
"Okay... I'll have you go tomorrow."
"Whatever." he said. And he left for his room. He had hoped to talk to his sister about it, maybe get angry again. He wanted that feeling of caring to come back. He wanted it so badly. But when he got to their shared room, she was asleep, and though he wanted to wake her, he didn't feel strongly enough to do so. Instead, he put aside his flickering frustration and went to sleep.

The next day, Malta took him with her to work, Poecileth staying home with Talaas to take care of her. She was greatly improving, Malta had said, and would probably be better by the next day.
Mihiil had only shrugged. Malta took him to a studio area connected to the hospital, and Mihiil wasn't sure what he was expecting, or if he was expecting anything at all. But the easels that stood, neatly lined up throughout the room, and the table of paints, pastels, and other things, were certainly impressive. Better than school. Mihiil looked around as Malta talked to a Naga who seemed to be a teacher. At least, she had that teacher-y attitude to her. Soon, other people- some manifests, some not, started to file in.
"Find a seat!" said the Naga, turning to him after waving goodbye to Malta, "You too. I hope you find this worthwhile, young man."
Mihiil shrugged. Who knew? He sat down at an easel and waited. People of all sorts came in, one by one, and suddenly the empty room was full.
I like this Mihiil realized, surprised.
"All right. For all you new people, this is what we do at the start of our sessions. Just do whatever you want for the first thirty minutes. If you want a color or paint or anything, just say it and it will appear at your station. We start the actual session in a half hour, but do not feel rushed. Just create." the Naga said, coiling back into a special chair to watch.
Just create? Mihiil didn't know how he was supposed to do it. He looked to his left, and to his right, only to see that people had already started doing things. Small, big, it didn't matter. He stared at the blank paper on the easel, and stared, then shrugged, he had nothing.
Suddenly, the naga was behind him.
"Relax." she said, "Just do the first thing that comes to mind."
"I don't know." he said, honestly.
"Well, what do you want." the way she said it made it clear she knew what sort of manifest he was.
He thought for a moment, and thought. He didn't want anything really, except to give her an answer. But he didn't care enough to be a wiseass, and he didn't want to dissappoint her either. So he answered the first random thing that came to mind.
"Blue?" he said, smiling meekly. The Naga smiled in return and, suddenly, on a stool beside him, was a full set of watercolors, all shades of blue.
"There." She said, "Now work with that." she slithered away.

He stared at the blue and the little ovals of paint and the cup of water and the little bristly brushes stared back. He wanted to try, at least, and not let her down, but he also didn't want to be separated from Talaas. He wanted that inspiration again, the inspiration only she had.

And suddenly, as if invoking it, he felt it. That undefinable motivating something. He dipped the brush into water and, surprising even himself, began to paint, with no plan or anything, as naturally as breathing.

Now, as he looked at his finished project, he felt proud. It wasn't anything but a bunch of blue bubbles, really, but it was something. He had never done something like this before, not on his own. Not without Talaas. He felt the inspiration fade away, not completely though... not completely. It was thin and blue, like the painting, but it was there, and it was his.
"All right! If you feel like it, you can stop now and we can start the session. No pressure, no rush." said the naga gently but audibly, and Mihiil perked up. Maybe this would be worth something after all. Maybe this would be a good idea. Maybe he could be like Talaas after all.