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Old November 13th, 2012 (01:40 PM).
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Mr. Mammoth
One cool snowman
 
Join Date: Aug 2011
Location: Wherever there is ice
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Nature: Relaxed
Lars Viklund - Episode 1

In which we experience something unusual
----

Lars opened his eyes. It seemed to him that he was still in bed, wide awake. The teen sighed; it had been like this for a couple of weeks now. It always happened the same way too. He would go to sleep around ten o’clock, only to wake up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. At first this whole process had gotten quite annoying to him, but Lars had grown more accustomed to it as the events continued to occur. The black-haired teen rubbed his right eye for a moment and then rose up from the bed. Luckily for him, the blindfolds to his windows weren’t turned all the way down, so some of the light was able to pass through, giving him less of a hard time to locate things. Lars was grateful for the fact that the light stayed longer during the springs in Sweden. If it had been winter, everything would’ve just been pitch-black. He wasn’t really one for winter, it was too cold to go around in a T-shirt – or at least his mother claimed so – and you couldn’t keep your feet bare either. Nah, summer and spring were way better, heck, even autumn wasn’t as bad as winter.

Lars looked down to find Morgan sleeping by the foot of his bed. Normally you wouldn’t really consider sleeping in a place where someone could easily step on you by mistake – no matter if you were a Pokémon or a human. But it seemed that Morgan always knew when Lars was going to wake up after a night of sleep, Lars himself deduced that it was probably because the Spoink was a Psychic-type – those always had something mysterious around them. He was careful to not step on the little pig as he walked across his room.

Lars stopped for a moment to observe his room. Since he wasn’t going back to sleep for a while, why not kill some time? He had never really understood the concept of that expression though. Kill some time? You couldn’t kill time. Time is a factor which isn’t even remotely sentient; it doesn’t even have a life, so why would you be able to kill it? The teen shook his head before returning to observing his room. It always seemed like a new type of light could change the appearance of something completely, light changed things. Lars wasn’t too sure whether or not he was comfortable with that. When you thought about it, light is a scary thing. It could make something almost invisible by not shining on it, thus making potential dangers un-seeable. Or it could be too bright and thus damage your eyes, leaving you near-sighted or blind, at worst. Lars’ attention shifted to a small box that stood on his desk, he walked up to it and observed the desk. Aside from the little box, a bunch of papers containing countless of physics, chemistry and mathematics problems carelessly scribbled onto them. One in particular that caught his eye was a problem which he didn’t seem to have finished. He picked up the paper and read the question out loud.

“You and your friend both have spaceships which are identical to each other. When your friend drives his spaceship at a certain speed, he claims his spaceship to be 25 meters while yours are only 24. According to you, how long is:

a. Your spaceship?
b. Your friend’s spaceship?
c. The speed of your friend’s spaceship?”

Lars chuckled lightly, he had to remember to bring this problem along when he went out sometime, and it could maybe prove for an interesting conversation between him and Morgan.

He put the paper down and examined the box. After a few seconds of fiddling about with it, he found a small handle. He immediately started to turn said handle with enthusiasm. As the handle spun around, different sounds could be heard coming from the box, or rather than sounds, they were notes. But in the slow pace which Lars was currently turning the handle in, they didn’t piece together very well. So he started to turn it faster and faster until a steady melody emitted from the musical-box. It was a very beautiful one and Lars’ eyes seemed to grow a bit weary, as if he had just been sung a song to help him sleep but he still wasn’t tired enough to go back to his bed. He glanced at the window, the light flowing through the half-closed blindfolds covering said window. Maybe the late-night breeze would make him a bit drowsy? In this case there was no harm in trying it out.

Lars opened the window swiftly. He didn’t even care to be silent about it, there wasn’t too much of a chance that Morgan or his parents would wake up. At least they hadn’t done so the past few times he did this. The teen then stepped onto his window-sill, there wasn’t much room, but this would have to do. He looked around for a while, his gaze traveled along the rooftops of the small city he lived in. It was quite beautiful actually. He looked up towards the roof of his own house; it was slanted and thus provided some sort of protection from the wind. A bit of a shame in this case actually. So? What was there to do? Well, the only logical option for Lars at this point would be to climb up on the roof. It might’ve seemed like an uttermost stupid idea, but for Lars it felt like he needed to be there. Like something was calling his name, telling him to get up there.

The teen put his right foot on the panels of the roof. They were painted with an old and slightly bleached green color. He started scaling them at a nice pace, not minding it too much when he stepped on a sharp panel which cut into his foot a bit. When he finally reached the top, Lars sat down on the roof while once again looking at the area before him. The view from up here was much prettier and broader than the one from his window. From up here he could clearly see the roads and the other houses of the small city. He could see the birches, the shops, and even some people walking around. As he glanced towards the horizon, Lars noticed that the sun was starting to rise, maybe that explained why it had been a bit brighter than the night should be?

Then there was a sound, a cry of something. Lars looked to his side to find a dragon-like creature with pinkish lines going along certain parts of its body sitting next to him on the roof. It was strange; he remembered this creature to be much bigger than the size of him, but apparently not. Its face was like a mix of deep pink and purple, and its eyes black while it irises much like Lars’. On each of the dragon’s shoulders there was a pearl embedded into it, like if it was there to serve as protection. Lars smiled at the creature,

“Weren’t you much taller last time we met?” He asked. The dragon looked at him,

“Yes.” It said, however it didn’t move its lips. But I am the one who has control over space; I can be whatever size I please.”“ It continued.

Lars smiled, “I guess…” He said. It was weird; usually he would be stammering and quieting down like crazy when talking to a stranger or a creature such as this one. However, he felt like they knew each other from before, like they were connected. The dragon even felt like an old friend to him.

“So,” the dragon began, “Do you have any more problems for me today?” It continued while emitting a sound that was close to a human chuckle.

“Oh sure!” Lars exclaimed with a hint of excitement, “Wait, let’s see if I remember it, I just read it too!” Once he seemed to have gotten the right one, the teen shone up. He then told the dragon the problem, now it was the creature’s time to shine up.

“Well, that’s an easy one.” It said, “I’d tell you the answer, but it seems that if I have to go.”

“What, already?” Lars complained, he was enjoying the dragon’s company.

“What do you mean?” The dragon answered.

“I mean that it’s always like this. I meet you up on this roof and we start to talk, but then you disappear almost as quickly as you got here! At least tell me your name before you go…”

“My name?” The dragon asked, “Well, I don’t specifically have a name, however most people just call me Pal-”

***

Lars opened up his eyes, the sun was beaming in through his window and the blindfolds were pulled all the way up. The teen suspected that this was his mother’s doing of some sort. He shuffled around tiredly in the bed for a while before lying flat on his back, looking up into the ceiling. He took a quick glance at the window and said:

“Sigh, these dreams again.”
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