Carabas

I'm inside a mental simulation of a memory from my past, allowing two people to go through the contents of my memory, a man and a woman. I'm lying down on the bed while the woman goes into the next room to look around.

Will Graham standing in a room, alone, but with mental images of many people moving around, he's piecing together what happened here in the past. He's watching the phantom images move, but he's mostly thinking about Hannibal and the increasing inevitability of consulting him on this case. This whole image is replaced by written words in white: "The Kingdom".

I'm a man who's been doing research into my own unknown ancestry, and turned up some info that my father was a cult leader. And while my mother's still a mystery, I'm complaining to someone that at this rate she'll probably turn out to be a goat. It's a reference to an image of goat-headed Baphomet that was connected to the cult.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I'm watching three women try to recreate images from old photos of other people, dressing up like them and trying to copy their poses exactly, in order to figure out something that happened in the past, something about a girl with some sense of guilt towards another woman. Copying the photos requires one of the women to adopt some really uncomfortable looking poses, she's dressed up in a wedding gown and the angle she's holding her neck at looks like it should be fatal.

There's this guy who killed someone, and I told him over the phone 'I'm not going to come for you' unless he does something about the body himself. When I get there, I look out the back window into his yard, and see a few of those big black trash bags full of fallen leaves, and I note that there are a couple more bags now than were there when I left. I note that he split it up into several bags instead of just one.

I'm in the yard of some huge mansion with a few white tables and chairs set up for a party, abandoned now; I'm out at the very edge of the yard, near a river, standing over someone who's been shot, and I'm saying to Hannibal, "One person, you could have saved one person!" He says something disagreeing with me. I'm thinking about Abigail.

I'm standing in my IRL shower, and there's a spider in here, well out of the way of the water; but I accidentally drip some on it and it slips down into the tub, gets caught in the water and washed down the drain before I can catch it. I feel guilt about that. I didn't want to drown it. But then an insect crawls up out of the drain - a huge winged ant, and then another one - and I feel sure the spider will be able to make it back up too.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I'm meeting some people in a dream. A woman and I have just arrived on a beach, bright sunny day, clear blue-green water, and we've got these dark fragments of void-stuff hanging around us from our arrival, dissipating like smoke. She's telling me about the guy she's going to introduce me to, who's supposed to guide me through something specific. He appears in a puff of darkness like we did, but standing on the water a little bit away, dark-haired guy wearing a suit, and he jogs across the water to meet us on the sand. He apologizes for taking so long to get here, and I'm thinking to myself that it only took him so long because he's accepting limitations that are unnecessary in a dream, not really a promising start. I expect him to say something else but he doesn't, they've both gone silent and stopped moving, and I realize that we've lost the connection and I'm waking up.

Fragment involving Ben Affleck and people complaining about a Fantastic Four movie.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

X-Men fragment involving Erik and Charles (as played by McKellan and Stewart) having an argument about something involving a young man, a mutant who lives with them; one of them leaves with the young man. Scene changes so that this is a movie I'm watching, I'm explaining to someone who just came in that this was the last time they saw each other for 9 years. On screen, it's now some kind of opening credits for the Avengers showing various backstories, some actual Avengers characters (Loki, Banner, "Hawkguy", deliberately misspelled - nothing for Iron Man though he shows up later for the fight sequence), mostly characters made up for the dream, one guy with a Buddhist hell motif, leading into a fight sequence in New York, complete with a very dramatic soundtrack featuring classical singers.

Scene changes, ditches the TV framing. Dream's now following a man in a suit who's standing on a New York street, looking up at the Avengers flying around fighting each other, when this woman says to him, "But do they care a touch for the wedding of the moor folk?" Moor here meaning the type of land, moor folk meaning faerie folk. They hold each other's gaze for a moment, she grins, he laughs, low and strange. She continues, "You weren't thinking, were you?" She's a red-haired woman with an Irish accent, wearing a veil, though the wedding she mentioned isn't hers, and looking very out of place on the streets of New York with a bunch of flying lunatics duking it out in the background.

(Woke up. Reflected that this was obviously inspired by a conversation yesterday, about the spin-off show starting today and how I still haven't gotten around to seeing the Avengers movie, and how that must have made me subconsciously remember the X-men movie that I also haven't gotten around to seeing - completely forgetting at the time about the Affleck dream which seems to have actually kickstarted this whole superhero thing. Although I haven't seen the latest Batman either, so I guess that still fits the theme. Anyway - decided to finally get around to watching that movie before the spin-off airs, went back to sleep, and making that decision seemed to do the trick, no more superhero dreams tonight.)

Fragment involving driving to the beach with IRL acquaintances and seeing Iolaus on the side of the road, looking out over a river.

False awakening - don't remember the actual waking up part, but I was in my IRL home talking about the previous dream scene as a dream, and went on to talk about skinny dipping and Xena (separate topics). Over-steeped the tea while I was talking and went to toss it out, outside.

Outside I'm on a city street, and the trash can I use is right in front of a bookshop. Looking over the books in the window display, I start thinking about idolizing people and forgetting that they're only human, and eventually seeing their flaws and feeling let down, although you're the one who put them on a pedestal in the first place. Thinking about viewing the work and the writer separately as a balancing act, being able to see a writer's flaws as a person and to love their stories without the one contradicting the other. And the flip side of that, thinking about the stress on people who are idolized.

As I walk back to my apartment, I pass a cafe where a writer I know (a DC, no resemblance to any IRL writers I'm aware of) is sitting at a table with two women young enough to be his daughters or granddaughters. I stop to talk, and I say to him something along the lines of, yeah, you're idolized and you're only human, but the way you use your young, impressionable groupies is seriously creepy. One of the women gets up and leaves. The other stays.

But when I'm back in my apartment (which no longer bears any resemblance to IRL) and making a fresh cup of tea, I turn around and find that the woman who'd stayed is now sitting in my kitchen. I offer her a cup, she says no. She tells me haltingly that she's thinking about getting a job to support herself - maybe working for a political campaign, maybe going back to college, getting a degree and working in publishing - instead of relying on her writing.