Things to Run Away From Really Fast

There's one area in the video games vs. lucid dreaming argument where video games come out ahead: dreams are terrible at providing a consistent gameplay experience.

I'm firing some kind of energy weapon down a rocky ravine at some well-armed and armoured aliens trying to board my ship. I'm getting frustrated because the leader's damned health bar isn't going down as fast as I think it should. I pull out a heavier energy weapon, dodge a blaster shot and look down the scope of my gun—FWOOM—and feel a moment's satisfaction when I see that the leader is down below half health.

It doesn't last long.

"Boarders!" one of the two crew members at my side shouts at me, "Revan, they're coming in the back!"

Three of the armoured aliens pour in through another door and I duck so that the enemies below can't get a shot at me.

"Where's the rest of the crew?" I shout back.

My brother's running the game. He doesn't say anything, but I realize that the gameplay mechanics only allow for two of my crew members to join the fight: the ones that I had in my KOTOR-sized party.

Sithspit. Three people won't be enough to hold off the invaders.

I dive into third-person mode which automatically pauses the fight, and float quickly through the ship. I'm looking for the rest of my crew, and I come across Mystique in her natural formsprawled out on the floor of a storage room. Keeping an eye out for the other boarders, I move towards her and think about what the gameplay mechanic for reviving a crewmate should be. I'm not actually here, so...

"Found you," says my brother from behind me.

I spin around. "Revan's on the other side of the ship," I argue.

"You're here."

I scoff at his character, a tall man in black, and then run out of the storage room before he has time to reply. A fireball hits the wall as I run past, and I run through a set of double doors, another door, and into a hallway that leads to a series of bathrooms.

Second door on the left. I throw myself into the room and click the door shut softly behind me, before plugging the sink and move my hand in front of the sensor so the water runs until it's full.

Silence. My body is tense as I hold myself in position, ready to fling the water at the door.

Click.

The door opens, and I relax when I realize it's Mystique.

"Any backup?" I ask her.

"Shan."

"Everyone else is down where the boarders entered the Ebon Hawk. We'll have to retreat for now."

We move towards the back of the ship, but we're inside a facility now, all industrial chrome and steel. Bastila Shan holds her yellow lightsaber at the ready, and Mystique and I hold complementary hues of blue and orange. I wave my hand and call up my Darth Revan outfit, looking up the steel grating as I do.

I jump up to the next level. Just as I expected, an enemy stands at the ready with another an lightsaber. They smile, and I give them a bloodthirsty grin in return. It's three against one, after all.

***

Other dreams: a hiking trip with a couple of guides and a group of people, trying to find a bathroom before we leave on the trip. Looking for a judge in Ixburg who can sign a cheque that I need to write to pay a fine.

I'm at some sort of retreat, and I'm on a break outdoors, spending some time by myself. A van with a logo painted on the side stops at the side of the road, and I walk up to ask what's wrong. The driver says that he's making a delivery to the local Co-op, but he can't find it. I look over the hill in a couple of directions, and, as it's a dream, the Co-op appears on the horizon. I point it out to him and he moves on.

In a hall made of stone from the floor to the ceiling, Dumbledore gives instructions about the tournament. At the beginning of each round, we pick an element, and then we have to use that element in a free-for-all to tag the other players. If you're tagged, you're out of the round.

I start the first round with a more difficult element that I'm used to (air, I think). I'm mostly focusing on complicated defensive uses of the power, and I'm out of the round fairly quickly. Irritated, I prepare for the second round, bringing up a wall of flame.

I'm visiting the IT department, and I realize that they actually have a desk for me there. I tell them that I've had a desk upstairs for some time, and that I'm actually leaving the company in a week (in 2013), so they can probably give the desk to someone else. The desk has years-old mail that's been waiting for me, so I start going through it.

There's a certain type of fight that exists in fiction just to show off how overpowered the major players of a setting are, compared to the main character. This is one of those fights: Maleficent versus Dumbledore. Only... Dumbledore hasn't shown up, and I'm the only one standing in her way. I drop my hands to the side, palms up, and burn with power, until suddenly I'm Maleficent as well. (I have a moment where I go through: wand, wandless, crook staff, staff with bobble on the end—perfect.) I bang the staff into the concrete, sending up a shockwave at my opponent, and twirl the staff around into a ready pose, lime-green light streaming from the tip. Bring it.

My brother talks me into following him to a pool, but it turns out that once you've entered the pool area, you can never leave. I walk calmly over to one of the glass windows, face it squarely, and punch it. A crack appears in the safety glass. I punch it again, and again, until we're running over the roof of a park canteen/cafeteria to get away.

I realize that I forgot to post in the class discussion forums this week to get my participation mark (even though the class is over...)

I've left my glasses somewhere, but I know that searching for them the traditional way in a dream is a lost cause. "Accio, glasses," I say, and they fly into my hand from wherever they were hiding.

It's about five in the morning. The early morning sun shines onto the gravel of the parking lot, casting long shadows.

My brother and I sitting in a car. I'm in the driver's seat, but the car is parked, and the two of us are just looking at the houses on the street over.

There's some kind of argument, and idly, I imagine a spark near one of the houses.

Suddenly, there's smoke billowing from the windows of the house closest to the spark. Good job, me, bringing innocent bystanders into our argument.

I jump out of the car, shouting "Come on!"

My brother follows me to the house. I ring the doorbell twice -- come on, come on -- and a sleepy-looking woman answers the door.

I point out the billowing smoke, and she thanks me for my concern but tells me that's it's normal.

***

Later, I'm with my mom and brother visiting someone.

"We should get back home," I tell my mom, looking at the approaching storm.

The thunderstorm approaches at the speed of a semi truck, the first pellets of heavy rain hitting the ground in a continuous wave.

"Too late," says my mom, and we duck to the floor of the room (which is on the top of the house) and I'm holding up a floor mat to try to shield us both from the mud splattering into the room.

From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favour fire...

Infiltrating a sorority/fraternity and it's terrible. And my female SHIELD agent is covering for the fact that Captain America is terrible at undercover work.

Now I'm part of a group of three people who are living semi-harmoniously in an older part of town. We have some interesting projects on the go, like improving playgrounds and adding giant transparent red walls to sidewalks so that people have to zigzag through.

I'm looking through a catalogue that has sheaths for ritual daggers that are being advertised pinned to the pages. There are daggers for earth, air, fire and water, and unsurprisingly I'm interested in the fire one.

And then I remember that I already have a ritual dagger. I turn it over in my hand. The blade is pure silver in the dream, unlike the real one.

I'm walking down a road, trying to find my way back to the original path.I know that if it takes too long to get back, I'll lose the thread of the dream, so I hold out a hand to the end of the street and soar towards it.

The street I want to take is the second from the end, but I can't find it, because the second path is now an alley that goes into someone's backyard. I follow the path and find a raspberry bush, and I look around for a basket. I decide that there will be one on the deck when I go to find it, but there's only a box that holds some kindling. I empty out the kindling onto the pile of smaller pieces of wood.

I look around and see an old, dying tree, and all I can notice is that the branches are so dead that they'd make great kindling for the cabin owner's fire.

There are workmen in the backyard. Apparently there are signs saying that they'd be in the area.

I'm Dean Winchester now. Sam and I know that when you get caught somewhere, you pretend that you belong there, so we approach the workmen and strike up a conversation.

They're vampires, as it turns out.

There's a fight.

I drive a stake into one man's chest—

wait, that's zombies in this universe

—and my silver dagger appears in my hand. I swing it around and slice into the vampire's neck as I throw my weight forward. The vampire stumbles, still off-balance from the stake, and I'm behind him, slicing into his throat and grabbing at his hair so that I can fully behead him.

(There's an argument as to whether this works according to the rules of the game. I win.)

There are bodies all over the back yard, now. We're going to have to burn them.

I grab wood from the shed out back and set to covering our dead vamps with lumber and kindling. I'm lighting the shed itself on fire when I hear a shout.

The man who appears was a friend of John Winchester's, and he's angry that his property is going up in flames.

I'm trying to choke him out without killing him. He struggles, and it's not working, but then he changes tactics and tries to grab at my ears and pull.

I decide that it's a trope of the genre that you can hit someone over the head and knock them out without being at risk of killing them, so one of us hits him over the head with the butt of a rifle.

Fire burns, and the old tree from earlier provides us with as much kindling as we need. I go over to the cabin, and realize that there's meat drying in the racks along the outside wall. My stomach churns as I realize that it's cursed all to hell—I don't want to think about what kind of meat has gone into the ground meat patties that are sitting on the rack, but there's a telltale haze of angry spirits hanging around the meat. Somehow, at least one of them is an ancient, powerful indigenous spirit, how the fucking hell...

I set it all on fire.

A blonde, average-sized woman with curly hair enters the yard, looking curious. "What's going on?" she asks, looking genuinely curious.

Because all we need is another civilian to knock out and haul away before they die of smoke inhalation.

"Ma'am," I start—

She looks past me. "You know, certain spirits are actually freed when you burn them."

Witch, I think. Of the Supernatural-style variety. I run forward, brandishing my knife, and she laughs as I plunge it into her chest. Light explodes from the place where the knife stabbed into her, and she soars up into the sky, a being of pure white light and destruction.

I turn around to deal with the spirit, and I think I'm calling up an explosion of—hellfire, soulfire?—and it's enveloped completely.

My long black cloak trails out behind me as I crash into the other witch, tearing into her. I snarl as I grab part of her cloak—pull it away with part of her essence as a ripping, tearing noise fills the air—and shoot past her. There are three of us, beings of darkness and the night, tearing through the sky and tearing into the thing of light that wants only to destroy.

Darkness can be a force for good in the world just as light can, and both can snuff out life as well as they can extend it. All we need—I think, flying at the other witch—is for some idiot to think that the good guy is being outnumbered here just because they're burning with Light.

One of us will win the contest and escape, and the rest of us will be doused with gasoline and burned to death.

Oh, it hurts. It hurts a lot.

I just remembered this as I was walking home.

07/10/10

May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.

The first time I woke up last night, I had such a feeling of contentment and happiness that it was unreal. I couldn't remember the dream that I had, but the feeling followed me throughout the day.

In another dream, I was cradling a piece of wood in my hands. A little piece of the wood was on fire, but the rest wasn't catching. I had to keep the flame going.

I order a DC to find me some kindling, so we can get the fire going properly. I maintain my focus on the spark, keeping the flame alive. The DC comes back with some bark and twigs, and I carefully set down my prize, and feed fuel into the fire.

At one point, the spark goes out, but I will it back into existence.

A Spark. Scare Factor: 1.

I had such a great night, guys. Still, this only slightly counts as a drunk post.

Happy feels like warm red dancing through the darkness.