When.

[The Festival Project.™ ]

The Legend Of...

S Ū P ∆ © R E E.™

E V E R Y D A Y I S R A V E D A Y

ENTER THE MULTIVERSE

An Insomniac Original

(maybe.)

Ū

Alright.

GOD

This is the part where you don't sleep.

SUPACREE

Oh no.

GOD

You've been ‘Don't Eating' for like, 8 months now. Now it's time to Don't Sleep.

SUPACREE

Yikes.

Û

You can bet we'll have it done by the beginning of next semester.

GERALD

Next semester's set to not even be in a classroom.

Ï

Even better. Remote binge worthy media.

Excerpt From:

“Blū and The Cosmic Owl”

...

...Having found the fallen owl, he glances up at the sky, just as another shooting star flies by.

In awe, he stands at the giant animal, who pants in a tragically cry in pain. He sorrowfully glances into the bird's giant eye, crying as his tears spill into the trail of blood, a sparkling dark purple river, streaked with the silver streams of moonlit tears and the golden gleam of a lucid dream; her dilated pupils reflect all the cosmos, sparkling through the three round dials; some sound, which has never heard or even fathomed to be made, a vibration ringing as it aligns with his light, which also shines now through his dark brown eyes; He is hypnotized, nearly full of light in a state of trance as he begins to float upward, levitating just slightly--A SUDDEN FLASH OF COSMIC LIGHT, as the wounded bird, morphs into a matching [humanoid] being, abruptly changing the frequency from a hypnotising lull, to an ear-shattering, soul startling and painstaking frequency. As they both hover above the ground-- still in levitation, he quickly looks down worriedly, then back up at the being--now matching in age, as The Princess, a pretty poised and painted warrior, adorned with the royally decadent white and purple trimmed fashion, crystals and gemstones of the galaxies imbedded into her sashes.

He's enamoured and intrigued, less terrified than excited; however her eyes, now changing a through colors of neon light, reflect her terrified and painful confusion, having been wounded with the weapon of ‘man'--he falls toward the ground, suddenly, groaning in pain, then turning into a fetal position from which he cowers in fear under her.

A tear, which has formed in her eye, nearly falls; she forcefully reabsorbs it back into her eyes, as she calms herself down, lowering gracefully to the ground.

She crouches over him, thinking twice quite literally, before angrily kneeling over him, yielding a ball of fire out of one hand, holding him by his shirt with the other--he cowers in fear, now--his awestruck chased away by the apparent power of this being; she quickly throws her fireball at a nearby bush, lighting it as he glares at the sight slightly stupified by the fire light, which he likes.

A splash of water drenches him from head to toe, blasting off his pink glasses and shattering playful spry outlook with a very grumpy pout, as he stands up, dripping from head to toe.

She stands, one leg crossed over the other, another dream of water floating in her hand; as he stands dripping, she blasts him again, with the intensity of a firehose pushing him back.

Taking awhile to get back, she waits, meditating by the bush as a campfire, as he, still dripping approaches. She looks out of one eye, unassumingly continuing to meditate as he approaches the fire, which he sits by, as closely and cautiously on the other side, trying to get dry.

She looks at him from the other eye, calmly sighing as she blasts him with the surprise of an almost blow dry, which she provides by colliding her hands stretched outwardly towards him; the heated gust leaves him looking somewhat like a freshly groomed poodle--his dark brown hair to match his sweet and gentle eyes, by which, his glasses having been blasted off a third time, he notices as he pushes up on the bridge of his nose, realizing he's lost them again--before he can even (literally) think to retrieve them, they float, guided by her telekinetic twisting of her index finger.

BLŪ

...thank you...

Still unable to form words, she just gazes at him from over the firelight, sternly searching perhaps, for the way to create a translation between her native telepathic ways of communication, or any of the alien languages--she is unfamiliar with this, though captioned in (several, actually) alien languages, we, as the audience can perceive any of the dialogue just to be "english".

PRINCESS

Why would you do that?!

BLŪ

What?!

PRINCESS

What you did to me!

BLŪ

I didn't mean to!

PRINCESS

Mean to what?

BLŪ

Shoot you!? I--

PRINCESS

Why would you ‘shoot' an Owl!?

BLŪ

An ‘owl?' I'm sorry! I didn't!

PRINCESS

Didn't what? LOOK.

[She appears, even still, to be wounded.]

BLŪ

I--I never--

PRINCESS

Never what?

BLŪ

I've never seen an ‘owl' before…

PRINCESS

So you just--!?

BLŪ

I'm sorry!

PRINCESS

What were you attempting to do?

BLŪ

I don't know!

PRINCESS

You don't know?

BLŪ

No! I just--

PRINCESS

You?

BLŪ

I...just…

PRINCESS

You…

BLŪ

I…

PRINCESS

…

[She appears to be bleeding through the sheath of her bodice.]

BLU

...Are you ok?