Imperfect Perfection.
?After some time talking, we came to an agreement: if I could find the pest who was stealing the ideas, I could have the idea of pawing for once and have the best masturbation I ever had.
Oh, I agree - I said, eager for the so-called perfect self-love.
Okay - said the dog. - I'll take you to the place where the action happened.
We walked to a huge gate.
The ideas are kept here - said Demiurgus. - I can't go there, but you can.
I can? - I asked. - What makes me able to do só?
The Mine Vorer could bring you here, só you can travel through different realities - as he talked, I lowered my head. - You came from the Sensible Reality. You could reach this place, you can go further.
I looked at him and nodded.
You aren't perfect like the ideas, só they will be hostile to you - added Demiurgus. - I'll keep your friend here, safe.
Alright - I said.
The gate opened and I stepped in. I was very confident and I kept walking until I was at an acceptable distance from the gate. Inside, or better, outside, I saw endless grass fields, the wind was soft, the touch of the sun on my fur didn't hurt and wasn't uncomfortable, not even a bit, the temperature was perfect. I looked behind and saw the gate still open and Demiurgus waiting for me from the other side of an extremely huge wall.
As I walked, heard moans. I looked around and spotted a tree with a shadow laying under it. I approached and the shadow became clear. It was a pregnant dragoness.
Err... hi? - I asked.
Mmmrrrgggfff... - answered the dragoness, rolling. - Stay away, imperfect being...
C'mon, I need information, I came from the Sensible Reality and I want to catch the idea thief.
She looked at me.
Why would you help us? - she asked.
Let's say that I'm an "anti-hero"... - I asked.
Tipic... - she said, looking away again. - You are a copy. You are am hybrid copy of several ideas, you are not perfect, you are selfish, son of Demiurgus.
You speak complicated - I commented, sitting next to her. - I thought ideas couldn't concept ideas, as you guys are non-generated and immortal...
Where the Hell you took it from? - she asked.
Plato...
He is imperfect, his reason is imperfect, he couldn't reach the perfection of the Ideal World. He knows nothing about us.
That made a lot of sense. I lean against the tree. The touch of the tree was comfortable and I felt myself needing a nap. The dragoness moaned louder. The sun was still up, no sign from the afternoon, as if the morning would last forever.
I took a look up to the leaves, perfectly green, as if it was summer or spring. Something inside me could tell that the time wasn't flowing. As for the female, I could tell that she was also in heat, her scent had an obvious aroused feel.