Lexx? Darn you Lewis!

Okay, so today for our final in CORE Dr. Lewis had us watching this ridiculous old scifi movie called Lexx. I mean this is the CHEESE of all cheese shows. But it turned out to be highly addictive and I watched the first three episodes straight through. Ridiculous? I think so. Anyways, so here is the first little part of the first episode for your boredom viewing:

I also finally did some art for myself based off a dream I had:

When Boys Turn into Men by *kitsunedajfox on deviantART

Here is a bit of story to go with my dream:

"Ouch," a small voice cried, tears streaming down his cold pale skin in the darkness. He ignored the pain as he tried to feel his legs with the tips of his dainty fingertips, but he could not reach and his head was pounding. The boy instead laid back and ran his dirty fingers through his hair, somewhat annoyed at the amount of grease had accumulated on his scalp in spite of everything that had happened to him in the last few hours. He tried to picture himself floating above the ground looking down at himself. Surely he was a pitiful site to behold, if one could indeed behold anything in the never ending darkness. There he sat, alone and cold in the silence. He could no longer here the world above him, only the occasional sliding of a rock here and the drop of water somewhere off in the distance. The boy lay pinned under several large boulders and he played with the idea that the cold door of death might be preferred over the agony of waiting helpless and in pain.
But maybe his predicament was not as bad as it seemed. He was the Grand Noble Razaird's first and only son and surely the whole crew of his father's fine vessel were searching the island for him. He wondered if anyone would ever think to check inside this particular cave... he remembered passing by so many of them in his anger. If it weren't for that damn pestering woman he wouldn't have run off in the first place. If she had left him alone to his fun he would be safe and warm aboard the Lathe of the Seas. Maybe even eating pumpkin pie instead of dust and dirt. No worries, he thought to himself. When they found him, the first thing he would do is have his father fire that wretched nurse. He was a man, he had no need for a caretaker.
The drip, drip, drip continued and the small boy piled little stacks of pebbles on top of the boulder that so unmercifully held him. But, no matter the fantasies that played in his mind, the thought of rescue became ever more desolate and ever desperate.
"10 more drops that blasted... oh I swear on my grandfather's grave that I shall kill myself!" he cried frustrated. "Someone! please help me! I promise to become a fine man I promise!" he continued to yelp. Only silence responded to his pleas. Only silence.
"Do boys like you keep their promises?" a faint echo somewhere distance questioned. "What? Who's there?! HELP!" he yelled. Nothing, but the dripping of water answered him. By god, he was losing his mind. Yes, his mind was playing tricks on him. He could feel the soft brush of a cold breeze pass over his wet skin, and it sent shivers down his spine. He was going to die cold and insane; what a way to end a young man's life and almost old enough to rig sails. The breeze quickened, nearly turning the damp air around him to ice. He pulled his head into his arms the best he could considering his position and wept. No need for pride when your world is surrounded by darkness. But what he really lost in some painful abyss? Had he slipped over into the next world yet? Suddenly it occurred to him that he wasn't so blind to the world around him. He could make out the fine border of the massive rock crushing his legs and lower torso. A tint of green seemed to reflect off the mossy surface. Light! There hadn't been light before! Someone must be looking for him!
"I'm over here!!" he yelled, his lungs burning, "please! look! over here! under this rock!"
"Yes, I see you," a calm, quiet voice replied. This was no figure of his imagination! Someone had found him! But his body was shaking so hard he could not spit out anything intelligible, only whimper for help.
"What is your name?" the voice continued. His name? What did that matter? "You do have a name don't you?" it asked again.
"Reign" he choked, "my name is Reign Razaird." After a short pause he continued, "are you here to help me?"
"I don't know how much I can do," it said in almost a sad whisper.
"Where are you? Why can't you help?! You came for me, didn't you?" he cried afraid the voice would disappear. Talking to phantoms was better than the awful silence.
"You awoke me with your cries," it said.
"Awoke? You live here?" he asked now curious.
"In a manner of speaking," it said, its voice kind and conversational.
"Why do you hide in darkness? Why didn't you bring a torch?" he said.
"I can't use a torch in my current state. I can offer you light, if that is what you seek," the voice said warmly. Without waiting for a response, a small blue light began to glow around the boy and a figure began to appear kneeling next to him. After several seconds Reign recognized the figure to be a lovely young girl wrapped in silk, shrouded in a dim glow.
"Bloody Hell, I'm going to be tortured by a ghost!" he said nearly losing consciousness. She gave a soft giggle and blushed. Platinum locks of hair tumbled around her face, framing vivid blue eyes that connected with his. She reached out with an ivory hand and touched his forehead sending a bolt of warm energy through his frigid body. He let out a soft grunt.
"Feel better?" she asked kindly, brushing his dark hair away from his face.
"My legs don't hurt anymore," he said embarrassed. “Um, what are you?” he asked.
“What am I? I’m a person of course! What are you?” she responded playfully. He smirked. What a bizarre dream this was. He was being comforted by a ghost that thinks it’s a person,
“I’m a person too, but not like you.”
“Indeed.” “Can you help me?”
“What would you like me to help you with?”
“Rescue! Help me to be rescued!” He yelled bitterly. The girl did not move, but her eyes were adverted upwards,
“I hear people calling your name,” she said not looking at him, “your voice cannot reach them, but maybe mine can.” Reign closed his eyes and listened hard for any sign of the sailors. Once again all he could hear was the menacing sound of water dripping. He looked back at her fading figure and mumbled,
“So are you going to help me?” She didn’t respond, she only looked at him with lonely eyes. He wondered how long she had been down here… if she had been trapped down here like he. An idea struck him.
“Look. If I do something for you, will you help me?” he asked politely. It wasn’t in his nature to extend a hand to another, but desperate times called for abnormal behavior. The girl finally looked him in the eyes again. He was right. He had noticed a hint of loneliness in this mysterious woman.
”It would appear that we both want to be free,” she began, but Reign interrupted,
“If you somehow get those men up there to find me, I’ll find a way to free you! Deal?” The girl gave him a puzzled look. “I’m serious! Just tell me what to do. I’m sure there is a way to set… you free?” He honestly had no idea what he was talking about, or the trouble he may land himself in. What consequences were there for helping the dead? He would find out in order to save his own life.
“Return someday to this very place when you have grown taller. Walk fifty steps up that way,” she said pointing, “touch the wall about five feet up from the ground and the passage way will lead you to me.” She gave her instructions twice just in case he didn’t catch everything the first time. Then, when she was finished, she fell silent again. He stared up at her in amazement. What a marvelous creature he had found. The girl stood showing her full height of almost five and half feet to his estimate. She began to turn away and fade away into nothingness but Reign was determined to keep her with him as long as he could,
“Wait! Please don’t go,” he called to her.
“Is there something else?” she said, genuinely curious as to what she might have missed. He shivered as her warmth left him and he swallowed hard not particularly growing fond of the returning cold.
“When I come back, will you kiss me?” Their eyes met and she gave him a sweet nod. Without further conversation she turned and left, leaving the boy wet and cold, lost in the dark.

“We’ve searched every cave within 10 cubic miles of the dock site, sir,” an old man with an unusually long beard said to the captain. He placed his old hand on the younger commander’s broad shoulder and breathily spoke, “I’m afraid that your son might be lost… sir.”
“No. My son is out there and I will…” his deep tenor voice began but caught at the touch of wind in his hair. The captain suddenly span around in circles as if to fight off some unseen phantom.
“Sir?” the old man questioned, concerned. Two other gruff middle aged men dressed in dark blue and leather came running over the hill, sheets of cloth over their heads. The captain stopped his bizarre behavior in light of the approaching men. He gave them both a hard, unreadable stare then spoke, strong and unbreakable,
“My son?”
“No capt’n. I gather this cursed island has spirited away! The hills and valleys sir! We can hear em’ whispering!” the taller of the two said in a deeply reverent but terrified tone.
“You would abandon my son because of some superstitious nonsense! I’ll have you both hanged!” He thundered angry and frustrated, but then once again he found himself spinning in place. He could have sworn he felt something brush against his ear. There was someone or something tormenting him and even if he had to kill the king of the gods he’d figure out this bizarre feeling about him. Then he heard another one of his men come screaming,
“There are ghosts on this island!! I’ll be damned if we don’t leave immediately!” Captain Razaird didn’t even get a chance to yell at his incompetent underling, but the frightened man ran right past him, jumped into the sea beyond the dock and franticly began to swim toward the brigantine. All the other men just looked at each other, none of them exactly sure what to think or say. A murmur of anxiety crept over the men as the Captain waited for his last group of scouts.
“All of you! Quiet!” the group of dirty and tired men stared up at him from their various places. “Do you hear that? Do you hear that men? That… that… voice!” The old figure huskily turned to a sailor standing limply beside him and mumbled,
“Yep. Now we are all dead. The capt’ has lost his mind.”
“No! No! I know where my son is! Men! This way!” Captain Razaird yelled, almost panicked.

Hours must have passed without any sound or sight of the mysterious ghost-like girl that had brought such blissful warm to the raven haired boy. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t cry again and didn’t want to be caught teary eyed if the girl came back. He had suffered enough embarrassment for one day. However, cold and wet conditions have their way of their way of tearing at one’s manhood. Then he heard it. His father’s voice! And it was getting closer! Before long he could see the glimmer of flame reflecting on the walls, finally lighting up his sad little world. The clunking and stomping of a dozen men echoed in the cave and filled Reign with unimaginable delight. His father had found him!
Then, unexpectedly the girl appeared before him once more. She gave a stupid smile—the smile of a child that had accomplished something great, but it soon faded to that sad lonely smile he was first greeted with hours ago. This ghost had brought his father to him. He was sure of it. And he would repay her with the world. She left him with the words,
“Don’t forgot our deal,” and then faded away.

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To be continued another night...