Mzzkc's Mind Games

Have been out of state on vacation this weekend. Picked up a cute little pocket-booklet that I can easily bring to work and jot down quick notes about my dreams. Had notes for a couple, but I didn't feel like trying to type them out on a phone, because ew. Am home now, which means it's time for another....

BARE-BONES ENTRY OF MEDIOCRITY

Nightmare

Ugh, this always happens when I need to do it in real life. In and out of bathrooms I go, unable to find relief. My anxiety over using restrooms in public doesn't help matters. Neither does finding that all stalls in one of the bathrooms are weird plastic pod things with seats that are pretty much totally exposed. Even when I finally score a suitable stall--a nice roomy one against the wall--and lock it, somehow another girl barges in right as I'm sitting down. I consider waking up, but decide trying to scrounge up a shirt to use the actual bathroom isn't worth the trouble, and instead head back into the theatre.

Guns

This can't be happening. No. No fucking way.

I hurry out of the car, reaching for my phone, as the man who just shot my father notices me and steps around the vehicle. Black jacket, spiky white hair, he's obviously a punk. A punk with a gun leveled at my head. I manage to get the police on the line and quickly relay the fact that my dad has been shot, but realizing it's going to be several minutes before any help arrives I hastily toss the phone to the tiled ground.

For my dad's sake, I take matters into my own hands.

Dipping behind a triangular structure, I bait the punk, pointing my finger at him like a gun and saying "bang!"--like a damn child. Nothing's happening, so I consider switching to a sword, but decide No, I can make this work. At this point, the punk has fallen for the bait, following after me as I swing around the freestanding obstacle. He's on the other side now, expecting to catch up to me around the corner, but he's also an idiot, so it's only natural he looks so dumbfounded as I seemingly defy gravity and vault over the barrier. As I descend in a long arc, I pull from my Modern Warfare 2 and Halo Archetypes and fire a few rounds from my finger gun, which has taken on the properties of both a Desert Eagle and M6G Pistol. One of the shots connects with his shoulder and I hear that trademark soundclip signaling I've made a hit, but he's still standing.

Running even.

Leaping down, into an atrium.

I leap after him, but he's landed and already taking aim.

He shoots...it's a perfect shot.

I'd be dead to rights, the bullet taking me between the eyes, but this is me we're talking about.

My perception slows as I track the searing lead. Moving at inhuman speeds, I dart my head to the side, avoiding the shot completely. Again, the punk seems surprised. Landing on one foot, I immediately push off towards the walls, dashing and gliding along them whilst unleashing a flurry of bullets. Most find their mark and punk finally goes down...

Later, at the police station, I embrace my father. He's alive and healthy, and I couldn't be more relieved.

24.6.2013

Enough (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

The waves came in hard, sweeping me off my feet. Swimming against the tide at an angle, I try to regain my footing near the shore, but the unusually steep dropoff made things exceptionally difficult. The best I can manage is to grab hold of my baby sister’s raft and circle my father who hadn’t been phased by the tide.

______________


I make chase. Through the palace, the ramparts, the temple--merely a game. By the end, I’ve claimed two of the three boars...but I had never been invited to play.

______________


A crowd had gathered. My father lay upon the throne, sword through his throat, feast laid before him--still alive. Tears hit my cheeks and anger welled from the pit of my stomach. The culprit stood near my dying father, cold, emotionless--I understood why. Falling to my knees at his side, he managed a smile, telling me not to worry, he had been bested and that was that. But I in turn consoled him, pledging vengeance, pledging to finish what he started, assuring him of my abilities.

And so I turned to the warrior without a name, the warrior who possessed skill enough to slay my father... The challenge I set forth: first to seven hits, or last alive. Solemnly, he agrees, pulling another sword from his side. I grab a pillow sitting beside the throne. In a flash he strikes, slashing high--jugular to hip. I step out, parry with the pillow, and push away. A quick turn precedes his follow-up, but I’ve already trapped the reverse-handed strike, allowing me to parry again and make a hit on his midsection. “Hit,” I clarify, now standing a few paces away, pillow in hand.

Surprised, he takes a more cautious approach, circling me slowly. “You don’t know what I can do.” I tease, almost mockingly, before teleporting behind him. But he’s ready for it, dodging my feathery attack while launching his own counter. I jump back, putting us both right where we started.

Dropping the pillow, I broaden my stance and stomp the ground forcefully, tossing up a few small stones into the air. With a few quick jabs, the stones fly towards him; two make contact. “Hit. Hit.” Sensing an opening, he closes in, but I move backwards gracefully, bending water from the earth to deflect his blows. I flick my fingers. “Hit,” and again “Hit,” the water splashes against his face.

Clearly flustered, he fights water with water, pulling it from the earth as I had done. But I capture it in the air, whipping it around in a gust of wind: “Hit.” And that was that. He walks over to congratulate me on my win, sword still in hand, but then I remember, That was only six. Before he can end it in a single blow, I teleport into a flanking position and strike him with another pebble, sealing my victory and fulfilling my pledge...

Deal's a deal.

New color, to boot.

¡Single Sentence Sizzlers!®

6.4.2012

Enter: Unknown (????)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM LUCIDISH DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

After some hypnosis shenanigans, I fly off to a dangerous area off-campus, one guarded and maintained by ancient spirits of the past--and predictably end up needing to defend myself; as I'm failing to cut through some obstacles with a Katana I manifested, a woman appears and and teases me about it, making me rethink my approach and attack the problem differently and much more successfully.

7.4.2012

Holding Back (????)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM LUCIDISH DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

After a town-wide Nerf war, my GF and I find ourselves traveling through a temple in a strange society filled with warrior-like scholars who challenge us each to a sparring match; my GF handles herself well against one of the school's intermediate disciples, but when I ask to face their best fighter--the head-teacher's second in command--I'm forced to hold back everything to avoid killing him, which makes him feel insulted.

Entry time.

‘Cause I promised I would and everything seems to be telling me to get back into the whole dreaming thing.

Not a five star entry, so no recording for this one. >.>

17.3.2012

Fun House (Non-Lucid)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Both of us peek inside the wooden crate sitting on my deck. Inside sits an assortment of bottle, each a different blend of some sort of coffee mixture intended for consumption before the special event I’d set up for the two of us later that night. MTM grabs the most potent bottle of the lot and downs it before I can protest. I sip something much more mild, but the effects of the drink are immediately apparent.

I frown, knowing that MTM has probably already been compromised, but preparations continue, as the two of us glide down to a field behind my house. Words were exchanged with the man in charge of tonight’s festivities, a suave twenty-something with short, blond hair and a red jacket over a black undershirt. After a few winks and candidly coded responses between him and MTM, I confirm my suspicions: she works for them now.

Looks like I’ll be doing things alone.

The day passes, night falls, and the real fun begins. After a mostly uneventful day filled with brief bits of uninspired HvZ and other campus shenanigans, I find myself riding a motor-powered skateboard, racing to the big event. Not satisfied with the speed, I kick things up a notch and transform the motor-power into rocket-power and the wheels into anti-gravity pads.

Tearing through the streets, blanketed in the glow of yellow-orange street lamps and rushing neon lights, I make my way to the first check-point and blaze past the rag-tag line of people assembled in front of the entryway, up the concrete stairs, and over the dingy, dark-red carpet. Finally, in the first chamber, I dismount in a flash of sparks and approach the table where the first challenge awaits.

Several guys in dark blazers stand there, hunched over the table in the center of this poorly lit room, watching me approach. Only one person sits, flourishing a deck of cards, grinning as a I approach. Without hesitation, he deals out the cards in front of him, forming rows and columns as the Chinese symbols on the face of the cards, begin to glow a shimmering blue and purple gradient and rise from the cards in a ghastly fashion.

The first to rip itself from the card floats towards me and attaches to my forehead, causing the world around me to shift and distort. I know the game immediately. If I didn’t do something about these symbols, they’d attach to me and mutate my perception, driving me to insanity. Grabbing the board I’d rode in on, I manage to get the exhaust to create a shower of sparks. Quickly, I douse the symbols with those fiery sparks, extinguishing their power and clearing the game.

As I walk toward the stairs, leading up to the next chamber, I notice two other tables and games set-up in front of the stairs. The world sways around me, and I realize: these are just illusions created by the symbol; I can move on.

Ascending the stairs, I’m met with another challenge. This time in a more home-like setting, a woman, who looks like a grade-school teacher smiles briefly at me before finishing up the colorful board she’d been working on. It’s one of those peg boards frequently used in classrooms, decorated with a bright, wavy yellow border and big blue letters on a cerulean background. The letters spell the command: “Ask Margie about H2O.”

In the corner of the room, to my left, rises a giant girl. She can’t be older than eight years old, but she towered over me, bloated and disproportional, with an expressionless look upon her drooling face. One look is all I need to determine the only winning move is not to play. I continue upwards as a fellow challenger comes up the stairs from the first chamber. I hear her ask ‘Margie’ about water. Then come the screams...then silence...

Upstairs now, I make my way to the porch, where I meet the man in charge for the second time today and MTM standing beside him. He expresses surprise that I arrived so early. Not in the mood for bantering, I let him know that he needs to fix whatever was wrong with MTM or he’d regret it. Smugly, he reassures me that I simply need to complete one more task, but I sense betrayal and deceit in his words. Delving deeper, I discover his identity as a vampire and the entirety of his plan. Oblivious to the fact that I know everything, he takes me and MTM into a room with another giant, disproportionate child, this time a toddler.

The door locks behind us and the man stands behind the monstrosity. My final task is simple, he tells me: “Defeat this child.”

Scornfully, I remark, “Don’t insult me. The two of you are so far beneath me I could blow you both away with a single blast.”

“Then do it,” he laughs harshly.

But I’ve already charged up a blast, or at least, tried to. When I release the stream of energy, forming a Kamehameha pose, the blast is imperceptible and simply passes through the head and body of the giant infant. Improvising, I modify the stream’s frequency as it passes through the thing’s brain, mutating it further, restoring its free will and rational thought.

When I’m finished, the giant baby and I have a short, intelligent, discourse, much to the dismay of the suave twenty-something. We bargain out a deal, wherein I let the giant live and he grants me the win. He even offers, very casually, to kill the guy standing behind him, but I insist that honor falls to me...

¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

27.12.2011

Intervention (WILD)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

After meeting up with a close friend, we sneakily escape notice during an assault on a nearby high school, but instead of running I decide to take matters into my own hands, burst through the back doors, and show those thugs what happens when you disrupt my lucids; when all was said and done, we put their still-living heads in a large case for proper disposal at a later date.

Note: Embedded videos should offer some insight into what influenced certain elements the dream. They should also be pretty cool.

17.12.2011

Aggressive Negotiations (Non-lucid)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Me

”Turn around. NOW!”

I scream at the driver of the sedan, as an irrational fear takes hold. At least, it seems irrational, but trucks never come down this way, never two of them. What's more, one is all but blocking the road out of the neighborhood. Clearly something is about to go down.

As if suddenly realizing the danger, the person driving turns around, unusually slowly; we’re headed back home, to my court. Thankfully, we get there pretty quickly, and I'm plopped in the street as the car hastily drives off. Before departing, the driver left me with the task of blending in at a nearby Christian High School.

Originally Posted by Inner Thoughts

No big deal. I’ll be able to skate by today, stay uninvolved with the afairs of these kids, and be out of here in no time.

Entering the door on the left, I find myself in an office-like recepetion area. The secretary, behind a glass pane, informs me that I’m not allowed over here, “All the kids are supposed to be on the other side.”

Originally Posted by Me

“Sure thing,” I smile warmly to alleviate suspicion.

Outside again, I enter the right-most part of the one-story, tan walled building, only to find myself in an almost identical area, with an almost identical secretary. From the back of the room, a middle-aged woman walks up to me, grinning broadly.

Originally Posted by Creepy Lady

“Welcome. We’ve been waiting for you," she make a large, hurried motion, "Quickly, come this way.”

Not really sure what to think, I go with it, and follow her into a small room where a young girl is sitting, handcuffed to a table. There’s an empty chair across from her, I sense it’s for me. Sure enough, as soon as I sit, the woman leaves me to my own devices. It’s clear I’m meant to interrogate this girl, find out what she knows, etc.

Originally Posted by Me

“Hi there.”

She doesn’t respond.

Originally Posted by Me

“Well, if you don’t want to talk to me. . . is there anyone you do want to talk to?”

With a thought, and a bit of direction from girl’s own mind, I make a few holograms appear beside her, shifting through those she seems to want to speak with. She gives a name; I don’t recognize it, but I’m able to create a representation of her desired point of contact and bring that representation to life. Of course, it’s under my control. Oddly, I think she knows that, but her fervor and crazed look tell me speaking with this image of her superior, a small, red, impish demon in a classy suit, would be the only way to get a peep out of her.

What follows is a less than ideal double-reverse interrogation session. Each of us indirectly scrambling to find what the other knows, giving up only what we know we can, all in the ruse of a communication between allies.

She knows about the recent assassination attempt on my life, is saddened to hear of its failure, but is pleased various other atrocities back home are panning out nicely. Once it’s clear I was revealing more than I was getting, I pause the image.

Originally Posted by Me

“Yes,” I say, “I know you know, but nothing said on my end was a lie. No propaganda. You really do work for someone like that, idolize someone like that.”

She makes a snide remark I can’t recall, and I respond with an outrageous outburst that has her questioning my sanity:

Originally Posted by Me

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! I’M HARRY FUCKING POTTER.”

I pull out a wand and destroy the projection of the demon in a shower of sparks; her look says it all. That’s when I notice it, at the door behind me, a presence of ill-intent. I stand quickly to see a green form dart past me, out the window, to the street beyond. By the girl’s gleeful reaction, I know this won’t be good. Drawing a blade, I go to the thing's exit point and see a green monster, spherical, with a gaping maw across it’s center and a face within that.

Originally Posted by Inner Thoughts

It doesn’t look like it wants to get close. . . And I really shouldn’t go outside. It might be a trap.

So, I do the next best thing, make some adjustments to my katana, stick it out the window, and rapidly extend the length of the blade, shooting it out into into the inner face of that green wretch. It seems as shocked as it is in pain. A few quick, long-range swipes later, and the monster is no longer surprised. . . or in pain.

Suddenly, the roof of the building tears away, and I’m face to face with. . . a clown?

Originally Posted by Would-be Assassin

“There you are.” The pointy faced, garishly dressed, figure states plainly. He's casually wielding two large, black and red scythes. Seemingly, he doesn't take me seriously.

Originally Posted by Me

“I assume this is a rescue attempt. Or are you here for me?”

Originally Posted by Would-be Assassin

“Don’t concern yourself with the details,” he jumps from his perch, “It doesn’t matt--”

Before he can get out the words, I’ve already spotted an opening and severed his legs from his body; there's not as much blood as I'd expected.

Originally Posted by Would-be Assassin

“Oh, please.” The clown is unamused. Rightfully so, as a new set of legs immediately takes the place of the old ones, slinking out of his baggy, red and yellow, pin-striped pants.

Originally Posted by Inner Thoughts

Interesting.

He comes at me with the scythes, bringing them together to form some sort of long, narrow drill. Again, he’s sloppy, and I’m able to avoid the attack, removing an arm in the process. Un-phased, he regenerates and grabs his scythe before gravity can even affect it.

Originally Posted by Inner Thoughts

I wonder if his torso is that resilient.

In the air now, I close in quickly and engage in an armed grapple, locking down the movement of his scythes. He begins to form his drill, and I’m forced to readjust my grip to avoid having one of my hands blended up.

Originally Posted by Me

“Mae, now.”

An ethereal spirit bursts from my chest and impales the clown with her sword before disappearing as quickly as she came. The clown looks confused and, to my delight, wounded. Seizing the opportunity, and making a bold move, I break away, just enough to free my blade and create another opening, which I use to plunge my blade into the fool’s side. He’s too wracked with pain to do much as I brutally impale him, again and again, dragging my razor-sharp steel through his body.

But still, he lives. I realize I'm going to have to step things up a notch if--


Damn alarm.

??.11.2011

Dragon (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I see it: the cause of the rampant destruction, taking place just down the block. A green dragon, female, on a tyrade, clearly looking for someone, I can’t help think that someone is me.

Figures. I think, making my retreat into a nearby flat, flying up to the second story, fire-breathing giant right on my tail. Unfortunately, I quickly find I’m not as safe as I’d like to be when the dragon bursts its head through the wall.

I don’t want to deal with this right now, I realize suddenly as the dragon exclaims her joy in finding me. I walk up to her, reminding myself this is a dream, and walk out the door to the roof-top balcony. Hopping down, it’s clear the dragon isn’t going to leave me alone simply because I’m not interested in fighting. A burst of flames hits me hard, but fails to phase me.

Fine. I’ve got some stuff I wanted to try anyways.

I pull a katana from my side and throw it to the ground in front of me. Another, and another, I pull from the air beside me. Tossing them around me. Raising my hands, I direct my TK at the lot of them, but. . . I’m meeting some resistance. Inexplicably, I can only manage exerting control over one, so I figure I’ll just go with it.

With a thought, I fling the blade at the dragon, whirling it through the air, toward her heart. It strikes a glancing blow before flying off to the side, making a shallow cut, minor damage it seems. I bring it back around for another strike, but the dragon is producing weapons of her own, hurling them at me in much the same way, but with a much straighter path. I’ve only got a moment to react, but although the energy behind the attacks is palpable I manage to fully deflect them without much effort.

After some more back and forth, she tells me she’s impressed.

By what? I can’t help wondering, I haven’t even done anything yet.
Deciding I’ve had entirely enough of this unnecessary fight, I take to the air, slowly approaching the dragon. Deciding to finish this, I activate my Geass forcing an imprint of my will onto hers; my wishes would become her wishes, my will, her will. For a moment I feel it work, but again, I experience that same resistance as before. She puffs a bit of agitated smoke at me.

Dammit.

Not skipping a beat, I land some quick, devastating blows, get her in a lock, mess up her neck, and drop her to the ground. She doesn’t get up immediately, so I figure things are done and begin moving back into the city.

That’s when she starts to get up again. . .

______________


I’m on a Torchwood investigation, leading a three person team to the site of the most recent rift activity.

It’s the flat from before.

One of the women on the team, my partner, goes to investigate the scene of the fight from earlier. On the roof-top balcony, I show the rookie how to break in the Torchwood way, using a specialized lock picking device to get us through the door and into the room in question, where we’d find exactly what we were looking for.

??.11.2011

New Terms (WILD)

★★★★★

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

New deal: you continue to protect her, but she gets to go wherever she likes and do whatever she likes. In addition, I’m no longer subservient to you or anybody else, and in return I’ll try my best not to kill you.

Waking up, in my bed at home, though I know I’m actually on campus. I hear music playing outside. People laughing.

As I get up, I see her at the foot of the bed, simple, flowing, white dress, knowing eyes, and beautifully styled, brown, shoulder length hair.

“Mae?” I ask, just to be sure.

“Of course. Come one, let’s go downstairs.”

I extend my hand, and she takes it, giving me an anchor to the dream, as we walk down the stairs, out to the deck, into the cool night air. The hearty laughter of my father reaches me, and I know I’m entertaining guests.

I stop when I sense it. Something isn’t right.

Mae continues onwards.

“There’s some people here tonight.”

“Who?” I ask, suspicously.

“You’re mother, you’re father, and. . . Hades.” she states it in a hushed tone, as if knowing the distress it would bring me.

But instead, I grow cold, determined, as I move down, to the lower deck, previously obscured from view by a white, decorated, awning. The hot-tub gone, a long circle of comfortable chairs has replaced it. Mae takes a seat near the god himself, whose blue flaming hair and cartoonish appearance I can’t help smirking at. There are two open chairs, one between Mae and that slime-bag, the other next to my father.

“Ahh, good to see you. Please come have a seat.”

Grinning, he motions to the chair next to him. I take a seat next to my father, and make myself comfortable. The grin fades from his face, and the conversation starts to pick up again. I teleport to the chair next to Hades, making the point that I’m very much in control of the situation.

“Why are you here?” I demand.

“To make sure you understand the terms of our new agreement.”

“What? I thought part of that was everything goes back to the way it was and I never have to deal with you again.”

“No. . . That’s not the case. See, I’m here to remind you that we can still work with one another.”

I see a few cats in the yard.

“How’s Kaomea?” I ask casually.

He goes silent, as I effortlessly summon death and wipe one of the cats from existence. I turn my attention back to him.

“I take it these aren’t real?”

“What?” he looks at me like I’m crazy, then realizes I’m talking about the cat, “Yours is the only realm that names those things.”

“So, no, then?”

“What do you think?”

“I wonder what would happen if I did that to you.”

The dreams starts to waver, and I reach my hand out, placing it over the god’s head, using his blue flaming hair to anchor me in the dream, letting him know exactly where he stands.

He, and all his lackiess, stand up and start moving back into the house.

“I think we’ll be going now,” he states, trying to retain his composure.

The dream is still falling around me; the only one left on the deck besides myself is Mae. She approaches me, when I see someone watching us from the neighbor’s deck, about one-hundred yards away.

“Who’s that?” I ask Mae, pointing in the direction of the newcomer.

“Her? I’m not sure.”

I teleport up to her and Mae is quick to follow.

“Who are you?”

She straightens her posture, “Me? Just a princess.”

“Pfft, yeah, alright. Now, get the hell out of here.”

“Is there a problem?” She asks snottily.

Mae interjects, “You. You’re the problem, and I’m tired of your kind oppressing people like him!”

It looks like the two are about to rip each other apart, so I step in, “Woah, Mae. As much as I’d like to see how you fight, this is my problem, I’ll deal with it.”

“Fine. . .” Mae moves backward.

The dream shifts, as the fight ensues. I find myself inexplicably in front of a monitor, the self-proclaimed princess on the other side. Odd, but I don’t care.

Drawing a blade from my side, I immediately know how useless it will be, so I hurl at her, looking down, finding my true sword just at my feet.

I draw it and see my foe, through the screen, transformed, grotesque, surrounded by purple energy tendrils in the form of snakes. She lashes one out at me, locking my weapon in place.

“Chidori.”

Unphased, I imbue my blade with screaming lightning and instantly cut her tendril.

Pointing my katana, I try something new, “Chidori Stream,” and jets of razor sharp lightning fire from the tip of my sword as I slash her in half. Then in quarters; then eighths.

Nearly dead now, in some sort of half-defeated limbo, I try something else on her. Striking with an open palm thrust, I exclaim “Hadoken!”

A burst of blue energy erupts from my palm, immediately exploding in a blast of smoke and blood, blowing her into oblivion.

The woman gone, the dream shifts back, and Mae is there, floating at my side. Unmoved by my display of power. . .

??.11.2011

Initiate (Parts 1 and 2) (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

There’s so many of us.

But still plenty of room to fight.

One at a time, they all have to fall, else I’ll be the one to go down.

Still, I can’t help enjoying the thrill of battle as I face my first opponent, a looming giant of a man, with sad, soulful eyes and the strength of a monster. With one hand he’s able to catch my true blade and hold it firm even as I charge it with screaming, vibrating, blue energy.

“I’m impressed. You should be in pieces by now. . .”

Time moves forward, as do my battles. The refined, razor sharp steel of my pure white, twisted-dragon-hilt katana, reduced to a blunt club against these foes. Tearing down my Vizard mask, with every strike I release a torrent of black energy, tinted red by my gleeful fury. Teleporting in and out, around my final enemy, I brutal beat him down with one wicked slash after another, into the ground, into darkness. *

It’s over. Three of us are left standing, all of us drenched in blood. I realize we’re the same, though our methods may be different, and it makes me sick.

“I’m done with this,” I say to them.

“Done with what?” One of them asks, suspicion and paranoia in his eyes.

“This,” I motion to the battleground around us, coated in warm blood and the bodies of countless slain warriors.

Walking off, I catch one of them say, “And you call yourself an eight!”

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” I comment back, not even bothering to look.
______________

Daffodil is her name. A beautiful golden retriever, my new friend. We had spent so much time together, bonding, all in preparation for this moment, as I stand before an invisible committee.

Crouching down, stroking the top of her head to the flowing golden fur on the back of her neck, I do it quickly. My knife enters her throat cleanly, and I slide it through quickly, smoothly, minimizing her pain. But as she lies there on ground, bleeding out, I see I’ve missed the jugular. I correct my mistake immediately, ending her quiet whines, her suffering, my first task.

Now create yourself a human DC, and do the same. I hear his sick voice in my head.

No, that’s stupid. I have no issue killing illusions of my own creation.

You will do it, or you’ll fail. Him again.

But it’s pointless.

Then you fail.

. . . Fine. But I do it my way. . .

Calling out, almost immediately, I find myself a DC. A young boy named Jerry.

“Do you like baseball, Jerry?” I inquire.

“I sure do, mister,” he replies hesitantly.

“I’ve got a friend who’s really into baseball. Excellent pitcher; throws a pitch the Japanese call The Great Equalizer. . .”

And just like that we’ve formed a bond, Jerry and I. We walk for a bit, before I tell him I’ve got something to show him.

“What’s that, mister?”

I can hear he’s nervous as I draw my knife, the one I’d used a short time ago.

“This is my knife. Nice, isn’t it?

“What do you use that for?”

“Oh, killing, mostly.”

He steps back, fear on his face, and I know how much this is going to suck for both of us. So, with a flash, I activate my Geass, imprinting my will over his own. Now all Jerry wants, with his entire being, is to die by my hand. So I oblige, placing my hand on his shoulder and slashing open his throat. To quicken things, I drive my blade into his stomach and drive it upwards, destroying his heart, without breaking any bones.

He’s dead before he hits the ground.

Things begin to fade. . .

Creative. His voice, sickeningly friendly, breaks the silence, keeps me tied to the dream.

He was just an illusion. I told you already, killing DCs is meaningless.

Really? Then I suppose you wouldn’t have any trouble killing a DC of your mother? I can almost see his twisted grin.

Nope.

To prove a point, I whip up a DC who looks just like my mother, cut her throat like the others, hit her onto the ground, and stomp her skull into bits, her brain into mush.

I feel no remorse.

You have issues. He seems stunned and taken aback.

Like I said. Just a DC.

14.11.2011

Contract (WILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Journeying downward, into the dark, the depths, from which there will be no return, I make haste in my flight.

Curved, snaking passageways, of naturally-hewn black rock, mark my ever descending path.

At the end, at the lowest reaches, a god awaits me. And he's thrilled to see me.

First, a test: a battle, versus a cloaked wraith.

I draw my sword from my side, and begin my assault, flashing steel hitting it's mark, but to no avail. I toss it aside, as the wraith strikes with its own blade.

Why do I bother with these anymore? I think to myself as the enemy's weapon strikes my flesh, and stops without making a scratch. It seems almost surprised.

I grab it from the ground at my side. I draw it, five feet long, my true sword, white sheath and ornate, dragon-like grip, given to me by a close friend, so many dreams ago.

My smile is demonic as I lash out, cutting through the wraith as if though it were nothing. Piercing and slashing, every cut is wonderfully perfect, joyfully precise. As I sever the wraith, bit by bit, the god is all but ecstatic.

But there's a problem.

Someone else is here.

“I'll take care of it,” I say, preparing to wipe the man in the shadows.

But the god responds harshly, forbidding me from using that ability in his presence.

Probably for the best, I think, darting to the spy, eviscerating him, and ripping my blade across his throat.

I switch to his perspective and watch myself stand there, powerful and absolute, long, beautiful blade in hand, the god just behind. I feel the warm blood erupt from his open neck, our neck, drenching us in a wet, red warmth. I solemnly experience his demise, fading as he does. . . slowly. . . painfully. . . without hope.

11.11.2011

Enter: The Messenger (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

There's someone outside, roving the grounds of the ancient place of worship. Meeting them in a field, patchy grass, yellow and green, I demand to know them.

“Oh, just a god,” he says, nonchalantly.

Oh, how rich, I think as I laugh a long maniacal laugh, the likes of which chills even my bones.

“A god, you say?” I can't help smirking.

“Yes, god of messages. Zeus' personal messenger, as it would so happen to be.”

“Ha. Right,” I say, lifting off the ground, preparing for what I believe will be an easy fight. “You won't mind proving it to me, then.”

He smiles as he draws a blade of energy from his side. I match his with my own, switching to my Energy Sword with a press of a button.

SKWISH!

We clash.

SKWISH!

And again.

No one is gaining ground, so I toss my blade aside and draw out a Katana from it's place at my side. His sword transforms into a rapier, much to his surprise. And much to my surprise, he's more than adept with it, skewering my stomach in due haste, my Katana unable to even scratch him.

FWI---

I try to start up a volley of teleportation assisted attacks, but. . . I can't. All I see after each attempt, instead of a vulnerable back, is his smiling figure, all too ready for me.

Screw it. I toss my sword aside.

“Bankai!”

My energy surfaces and bursts from my body in a blue flaming jet. He's still smiling. The bastard.

Even as I twist and contort his body, tearing into his throat, he grins, unaffected.

And in a moment, I'm distracted. There's some monsters nearby that need taking care of. . .
______________

You shouldn't do that. I hear him in my head.

Screw you.

With a wave of my hand I release all the lock, the controls, sending this bus of a plane down a long and bumpy road, crashing it, stranding the passengers.

That's it. I'm done with this. I'm going to kill him.

Making my way to the main compartment, I'm bombarded with insults and complaints from the passengers. I ignore them the best I can, searching for that damned messenger, who was here moments before.

The insults continue, so I shut up everyone in the room with a wave, zip, and press of my fingers, binding their mouths shut with a few well placed Ats. Except for one girl who somehow remains free from my control.

I'm gonna get it, she tells me. I'm gonna be in for a world of trouble when that messenger from Hades gets back, she insists.

“What? What do you mean, Hades?”

But she won't answer my inquiry as she continues to shout at me.

“SHUT UP!”

She won't.

My alarm wakes me.

22.6.2011

Fragmented Return (DILD)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID







Lucid Fragment: Death

★★☆☆☆

A battle for my life, for a friend's life, against Death itself raged on outside my house. Tall, hulking, bulging grey-flesh, a thin blob of a monster, Death wasn't your typical reaper, but that didn't matter to me. I couldn't let him take her, so I fought, blasted at the monster, darted around its attacks, tearing it down bit by bit, . .

Fragment: Chasing

★☆☆☆☆

In order to escape my prison, I chased this man through the corridor, looking from behind the glass as he ran me in circles. But I had an ace in my pocket, a special ability none of them knew about: Teleportation.

Fragment: Dragons

★★★☆☆

After decapitating their General with a butcher knife, I took to the skies, commanding my dragons against the enemy's. At first, they were just over-sized cards, but with a little imbued magic they came to life, fighting briefly before fading back into their two dimensional prison.

¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

14.4.2011

Anger Management (DILD)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

Spinning, swiping, with ferocious animosity and honed skill, I cut down the fell beasts, these dark, grotesque hell-dogs, as they swarm violently around me, snapping their maws in an attempt to devour me, but I finish the lot of them off with a tremendous, black Getsuga, tinged with a red fury, absorbing their power into my own; as they disintegrated into nothingness, I thought, Time to abuse it. . .

1.4.2011

Ruined (Non-lucid)

★★★★★

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

With gusto, I sprint across the cool, black asphalt, brown sneakers propelling me forward with every pounding step. The horde looms in the distance, row upon row of agile, intelligent zombies. Knowingly, I dash forward, weaving through cars, crimson, white, and purple, cutting to the right with nothing but STAR, my trusty yellow Nitefinder, in hand. Nay, the zombies aren't on my tail; they're right in front of me.

They mock me, as I slow down, off to their rightmost flank. What could I possibly do with such a small weapon, they wondered? Was I even worth the effort of a charge?

Stopping, stepping back, I know they're right.

Well, at least about the former.

With a smile, I raise my arms, and lift a dart from the ground, twenty paces away. The zombies look in astonishment as the dart floats of its own accord, and their jaws drop when it fires through the air, nailing one unfortunate zed in the face.

But still, they mock me.

One dart won't be enough.

Both arms, and countless darts, rise at my command. My eye lit with a fiendish glint, I can't help smirking at their shock. Even as they charge, I'm alight with joy, as my darts rain upon them, taking out their front line. But despite my barrage, many of them remain untouched, and now they're upon me, here to devour me.

FWIP.

A quick teleport puts me behind their ranks, where I continue to wreak havoc. Every time they get close enough to do something, I teleport away and attack from a different side. Eventually, it becomes too much for them.

They quit, walk away, deband themselves.

What have I done? Could it be I've singlehandedly ruined this Invitational.

My perspective cuts away. . .

______________


A girl walks along the same black asphalt I had run upon earlier. As she goes, she breaks the rear windows of every car she can. Another girl, part of the same horde I had just forced into ruin, goes to stop her, asking her what's wrong.

The first girl replies, “You know, when the game's on I can keep it under control; I can stay sane,” she rubs at her face, smearing the black ash covering her cheeks and forehead, “But now look what's happened. . .”

The second girl, yelling, remanding, starts: “That doesn't mean you—” but she's cut off as a knife pierces her pink skin-tight shirt and enters her gut. With a thump, she's lying on the ground, as the ash faced girl smirks and walks away. . .

______________


What have I created?

Years have passed since that fateful day, but the terror, the crazed female killer, remains at large. As her creator, I'm tasked with her extermination.

______________


We meet on a field of dead grass, my sword drawn, a machete with a complex, elegant, two-handed, design, her knives at the ready. In a flash of steel, we clash, crossing blades, determined to end the life of the other.

But alas.

The dreams fades.

¡Single Sentence Sizzler!®

15.1.2011

3 Lucids 1 Sentence (DILD)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Originally Posted by Mzzkc

Plagued by a shadowy dog, black as the deepest night, yellow eyes alight with a fiendish glow, I worked to release the many seals (set upon me to reduce my powers to a mere glimmer of what I possess) in order to fight back and reclaim my territory, my soul, myself.