The Empty World | The Empty World Sequence [complete | rewriting]

Three (Draft 3) "Hello, Pretty Pretty"

It didn't help that they invariably called him beautiful.

That usually came shortly before they suggested he lie with them on the bed.

Morpheus was certain Jibril had foreseen this when he said, "illusion or something real."

It was easier for Morpheus to lead his guest to the narrow wooden-framed couch, dust their eyes with sleep and then cast a dream into their mind, than to physically entwine his flesh with theirs.

He could have done that. He hadn't, yet, but he might.

Every time he read a visitor's mind, drew out their fantasies, spun them into a fanciful string of movement and sensation featuring his borrowed body, and cast the dream back into their subconscious, Morpheus wondered what it might be like to really share that with someone.

But, how could anyone truly make love to him?

Morpheus yet wondered when the next visitor touched the perimeter of the mirage.

Morpheus felt the most welcome form come over him.

He'd barely changed.

Cyanotic complexion. Midnight-blue hair. Feathery, black wings. There were some minor differences: gauzy clothing he'd never think to wear, a tattoo of a black orchid on the small of his back, piercings. And, he was male.

Morpheus listened for the thoughts from his guest. There were so few, as if this mind was trying to hide its secrets. He struggled just to find welcome shapes for the Djinn. "Audrey Hepburn and Sofia Loren in kitschy disco-pink harem pants and vests."

Loren assumed the requested form quickly, but the other Djinn still in the guise of a muscular guard gestured: index finger circling near the face.

"You know," Morpheus said. "She played Princess Ann in that movie we watched by accident."

The Djinn nodded once, shifted to smoke, then condensed as Hepburn.

"You greet the guest this time," Morpheus told them.

The two Djinn hobbled out onto the carpet that lay under the tent's canopy and fell to their knees; one of them greeted their guest with a high-pitched, "Hello, Master!"

The visitor walked right past the Djinn.

Morpheus felt something like a flutter in his chest.

Backlighting gave the man a transient halo as he entered the tent, but he was by no means a perfect being. He was a little too skinny. The blond stubble on his face was too sparse to look intentional. He was wearing damaged clothing that might have once been a suit. Yet, he seemed...pretty.

"My heartstrings are snapping."

"Morpheus?" The visitor's mind was suddenly open.

"Julien." That was his name. "Come in. You probably want to take a bath."