MY COUSINS DREAM OF DOING 'OTHER' JOBS

"So, I understand I'm lateee-'' Steven began, his voice slightly hoarse as he looked down, the clouds below them swirling in playful flurries around his shoes.

"Are you okay?" Olivia stepped closer.

"I would rather you just smack me." 

It felt weird to see 'Olive', of all people, looking so concerned. 

Locust, allowing a playful cloud tendril to wrap around his finger before dissipating, finally glanced over at Steven. "What happened? It's not like you to be late."

Steven looked at the Locust's orange hair. It looked like it was ruffled by a non-existent breeze.

"Nothing much." Steven hesitated, the colors around them seeming to grow a shade darker, more intense. He brushed a few damp strands of hair from his face. "Let's just say... water and I had a little disagreement." He kicked at a nearby cloud puff, watching it disperse. 

"No wonder you kinda smell…" Olivia wrinkled her nose. "Almost like-" She paused, a glint in her eyes, which Steven understood. He probably smelled a bit weird. 

Steven gave her a sideways glance, while she interrupted herself, animatedly, "Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you about today. I met with the stupid receptionist again. Do you know what she did?"

Before waiting for a response, Olivia continued, her voice rising with every word, "She looked at my clothes, then looked ME up and down and then had the nerve to smirk, saying things like: isn't it good that you guys cover up with masks and cloaks. My, my."

'I swearrr, I was about to sock her,'' Olivia said, sending a ripple through the cloud beneath her feet. "I really was. I was gonna punch her right into the moon. That corrupt, dandy nasty ol' hag."

Locust pointed out, "She's only like 5 years older than us."

'Which makes her ancient!" Olivia huffed, watching as the clouds around her churned with her growing frustration. "She said we never do anything! And I was like... GEE, I wonder why? You always assign us the dullest tasks! And of course, that nasty hag was like, I'm going to have to dock your pay, neh-neh-neh, because last time, I remember a customer was very unsatisfied with you guys for not talking to them? LIKE whatttt…? We're 'dream WALKERS' not 'dream WAITERS'."

Steven nodded, a thought crossing his mind. (Well, sometimes, they had to be 'waiters' as well, but that wasn't really the point here.)

"Do we really have to talk to someone just rowing them across the boat? And you know… and then, she told me that If I'm not happy about it, I can speak to the manager about our team's inadequacies! Like WHAT?" 

The end of her voice rose, as she took a deep breath.

"And you know what's the worst part? As soon as another S-tier team walks in, she just starts wagging her tail, that little bootlicker. That little-" Olivia proceeded to say some… things. "I hate that." She scrambled through her olive-green hair, making it look like she had shredded a tree on top of her head. "I hate it so much!"

As she ranted, the clouds around her grew more agitated, before she took a breath again. 

"There isn't much we can do," Locust said. "We don't have much backing. The other junior-division teams are backed by families, or they got more experience."

"Man, even the receptionist got backing. 'Recommended by the manager.' NEPOTISM. That's what it is." Olivia scowled. 

Steven asked what they were doing today.

"Here." Locust threw the scroll over.

"Aw…" Steven started, skimming through. It looked like they would have to start by patching…

The HOLE:

Technically, it was a hole. 

One of many HOLES. 

In front of them was just the HOLE they had to patch today. 

It was an anomalous hole in the dreamscape.

A massive tear, a void where colors… 

…s-oun-d… 

…and even the feeling of the world itself had been stripped away. The edges pulsed erratically, drawing in fragments of dream matter, trying to patch itself up but failing…

Miserably.

THE SIGNIFICANCE?

Well, that was because of—

THE OTHER… 

Locust moved forward first, his hands illuminating with a warm golden glow. The ground beneath them started reshaping like clay, earth and grass growing rapidly, filling in the gaps. As the sculpted land mended, the erratic pulsing of the void started to calm. 

The little things inside weren't happy about that though… 

But with a final push, he sealed off the hole completely, ensuring that nothing from the 'OTHER' could seep in.

Olivia followed suit. Her hands danced through the air like a maestro, and brilliant hues began painting the scene. Greens of varying shades painted the grass, blues swirled into the sky, and patches of vibrant flowers blossomed from where she let her hands glide. The scene looked like a masterfully crafted artwork, but needed one last touch:

That's when Steven stepped in. Drawing a deep breath, he brought out a… flute. A little, silver thing, that didn't look like anything… special, at least. But when he started to play, the once silent dreamscape filled with soft melodies. 

With every note, the wind picked up, trees rustled, and the very air seemed to hum with life. Birds made of dream matter began to fly, and a nearby stream gushed with crystalline water, its chatter resonating with Steven's tune.

As Steven was deeply engrossed in his music, Locust turned to him, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the growing symphony of sounds. 

"Steven, did you finally start cultivating?"

Pausing momentarily, Steven nodded, "Yeah, I started as soon as I entered the school. I don't know anything about fighting, though… which sucks cause there's some 'Battle of the Freshies' or sum'thing."

"That's good," Olive chimed in over her work, "I was always wondering why you didn't start earlier."

Steven let out a laugh, but it wasn't a kind one. 

"Have you…" Locust looked at the flute in Steven's hands. "Have you thought about using a flute in the real world? For cultivation, I mean."

Steven raised his eyebrow, "But how would that work? 

Locust gently patted his younger cousin's head. "It's not so different," he began, "The essence, the feel – it's all the same. We channel our energy here, just as we do when we cultivate." 

He began molding a clay bunny between his fingers. "It's all about tapping into different sources." 

"…Maybe you should consider one of those battle-instruments." 

His gaze grew distant and darker.

"We all have things we need to do," Locust murmured, letting the bunny hop onto Steven's head.

Steven pondered Locust's words, distractedly trying to remove the bunny from his hair. "Yeah, I suppose... ow. Maybe it's worth a try."

Olivia, having finished her artistic touch, chipped in, "Well, even though you have lackluster abilities, you're a part of our team. I remember the first time you came to us, cause you were super broke and needed a part-time job… and oh, boy… I remember the test, which you passed by… Yeah." 

She giggled, watching the bunny nibble Steven's shoes. "Your flute could be your weapon, Steven."

"Hmm… actually I do have this plow." Steven took two things out from a zipped-up pocket. "This."

"Kinda looks like a toy." Olivia squinted. "Are you sure you can use that?'

Locust raised an eyebrow but didn't press. "A mini plow? That looks... unique. How'd you get that?"

"Found it." (Which was true).

"And what's with the bell?" Locust looked at the other thing in Steven's hand. It looked like something that someone could pick up from a street market.

"Found that too," Steven shrugged.

"Interesting," Locust rolled up his sleeve. He looked back at his team and cleared his throat, "Alright, now… come on. Time to flip some burgers!"

"Man," Olivia complained, "Is that really our next job? Can't we have Steven do it? He's the best at cooking."

"Precisely why me and you," Locust shrugged. "...are going to do the cashier work and stuff."

"MANNNN!" Olivia complained.