Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 4/20/2017
By Fitful
I am an Immortal, I am part of a team which works behind the seams of Realities and builds them. When you get this job it kinda lasts forever. I get really good at building demensions on my own, I make a hobby of it, and so I am recruited to this organization which does it professionally. We build the cogs on which each demension stands. Like the clockwork which makes realities, worlds, and universes. ---- I am new to the team. I am the newest member. The team is fairly new as well, the leader is this blonde white young bombshell who was an apprentice of sorts to a master builder. But he set her loose, gave her a team, and she's been trying to make a go of it. It seems to be going well on the surface, but the bosses complain she isn't actually getting anything built. ----- There is a long time we, the team, work on a building a pool of hot boiling water. Little white lap dogs get trapped under the hot boiling water as we build, and it's really sad for me. I wonder why the leader didn't let them out first. A few do manage to escape and run to drink cool ice water which is along the edges and drink long. I don't know how they're still alive. ----- Most of our work is excavation. We dig and find the relics of civilizations, all the stuff left of realities and demensions which crumble. We work with an older team for a day while our homebase is being recycled to another demension. A mature woman I'm observing excavates hundred of knives in the short time we're there. Knives of all different shapes and kinds, long mostly, almost too long for her, some a broken, long handle with knives on the ends. I wonder how she manged to wash them, the blade is falling right off the handle in some. She places all the cleaned blades in the refrigerator door, on the bottom shelf. There are hundreds, as I said. I ask her about keeping the broken ones. She says the broken ones are just as good as the rest. They hold just as much memory. It seems she finds these knives precious. She treats them that way. ---- We have a meeting with this older team, they are made up of mature looking adults. Our team is full of young green looking adults. I try and sit on the bench with the mature ones, but for some reason I don't fit, like my ass is huge or something. I check and it's not too big for the space but I still don't fit on the bench comfortably with them, I keep pressing into the woman next to me, and it's uncomfortable for both of us. Finally to girl(of my team) to my left moves to the seat in the next row, directly in front of me and the whole bench shifts so we can sit finally comfortably. I laugh off my awkward embarrassment by saying, "I forgot we we're all adults, and have to sit like adults." There are few cursory polite laughs. But they really aren't amused. The young team I am part of sorta huddles together, feeling excluded from the mature team. They speak of being 10 years on the job (which somehow correlates to their whole life), and it alienates us. We're just uncomfortable because some of us have nothing nice to wear. I'm in regular clothes. Our clothes is with our home base which is being relocated. The colaberation with the mature team, and the meeting, was unexpected. One of our number was staying with her mom, so she comes in dressed to kill in this lace red suit jacket. Some of us look nice and as if we dressed for this. Some of us look like teenagers on a bad laundry day. Our leader is fired, mostly because she has yet to complete a build. Instead the boss appoints me leader. I take on the task and my first build is a vault building demension, where I put all the extra stuff we don't need in. Unfortunately I end up locking myself in, and the inside explodes in an expanding substance inside it and there isn't air pockets for me to be in. I think I get "killed". But we are Immortal so I regenerate. --- I make a room for this little girl, she grows up and comes back to the room all the time as she does. The scene is a time lapse of her growing up.(She grows up into the blonde who was the leader actually.) Her job is to learn to make anything a ball and throw it into a square hoop. She often makes blankets into balls and throws them into a small square hoop. It's almost years before she does it successfully tho, she's a teenager when she succeeds. ----- There is another little girl, her mother is visiting and I am doing business with her. The little girl is playing with this coin bank she found amongst the rubble of stuff we excavated. Her mother gives her some coins to play with it, to keep her occupied and out of our way while we converse. I give her bills when the coins don't seem enough. I give her a $20, then a $10 from my own coin purse and then i give her a other $20 from another location. It's all in bills and she is happily playing. She doesn't really understand money or care about it, she is too young. The mother, when she is readying to leave notices all the money and is horrified. She asked where her daughter got all this money, she's worried about separating her money from it, and mad the little girl has it to play with. I tell her I gave it to her and she seems very put out with me, gives me a disgusted look and says she doesn't want her daughter to have all that money. ——— I am on the surface, or inside a pocket reality. I am effecting repairs. There is a hick woman and her husband living in a expensive loft in Manhattan. The inside of it is very dark and dingy. She is literally the stereotype of uneducated, back water farm society. Buck teeth, slow accent, slow understanding, her husband is the boss. Ect. I am there doing business with her, trading, and I notice a white sliding closet door off its tracks. I set it up and straighten it out, it's stuck in the open position and won't run its track but finally is open. I notice beyond is her bedroom then a window with an amazing view of Manhattan. The open door lets in so much light into the house. The woman marvels with a blank face at the door standing open. Asks me if I fixed it, then her husband comes and looks at it, and asks me the same thing. I say I haven't but I can, it's an easy fix. I offer to work on it, but suddenly the husband refuses. He says it's not them, to have a fixed door. And refuses to allow me to do so. I am a bit baffled. There is a unlit red light above the closet, tiny like a pin. They seem to refer to it when they refuse.