• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    Things to Run Away From Really Fast

    Warnings: violence, problems with authority, and links to TV Tropes.

    But in all seriousness, this journal legitimately contains the kind of graphic and disturbing content that gives people nightmares, so either that's a selling point or a reason not to read on. Just a heads up.

    As of 2015, dreams are ranked according to three categories:

    Adventure: How much fun and excitement can I fit into one dream?
    Control: How much control do I have over the narrative, environment, and dream powers?
    Fear: How scared and out of control do I feel? (Has very little to do with how Silent Hill the monsters get.)

    Regular dreams are in black (along with notes).
    Semi-lucid dreams are green.
    Lucid dreams are blue.

    1. #158. Soul Eater

      by , 09-29-2010 at 05:40 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      ★★★★☆

      09/28/10



      Killing from the shadows.

      I get tied up a lot. I would wonder at the Freudian implications of that, but I'm a little busy right now. What with being tied to a chair, and all. I'm at the center of an empty conference room, surrounded on all sides by bare floor space. It's almost like the huge room, with its fluorescent lights and grey carpet, is supposed to be intimidating or something. The syndicate's second in command swaggers into the room. He's an older man with greying hair, and wearing a business suit. He's confident, and self-assured, and my gods do I want to beat the smirk off of his face. He's walking towards me, and stops three feet away.

      Get closer, I dare you.

      "How is it," says the man, leaning in, "That you got in here? Our defenses should be impenetrable."

      I tilt my head to the side, deliberately widening my eyes. "Should they, really?"

      The man scowls. "You should tell us what we want to know. Things might get... unpleasant for you, otherwise."

      This is going to be the most cliched interrogation ever.

      "Hm," I pretend to think about it. "No."

      The man growls. His arm swings back, and suddenly I'm released from my bonds. I surge forward, catching him off balance, and use his arm to throw him to the floor. I'm on top of him in an instant, grabbing him by the sides of the head. I lift up, and I smash his head into the floor. The back of his skull impacts with a dull thud, and the man struggles, feebly. I lift again, smash his skull into the floor until the back of his head is a pulpy, bloody mess.

      Well, I feel better.

      I exit the room, closing the door behind me. No guards. I sense someone approaching, and I duck into a hallway running across a glass wall. Outside, I can see the city, sparkling in the night. This building is mostly office space, but that's a front for something larger. Hell, the ground floor is actually a mall, teeming with people during the day.

      The footsteps are getting closer. The guard rounds the corner next to me. I duck behind him and lock an arm behind his back, and use his momentum to push him into the window. He grunts with the impact, and cracks spiderweb across the glass. Before he can pull himself together, I'm pulling him back, away from the window. With a blast of telekinetic energy, he goes flying. The window breaks, and the man goes tumbling out into the street, several stories below.

      I run up a staircase, trying to avoid the patrolling guards. The longer I can hold off the alert, the more time my partner has to find -

      The dream is destabilizing. My surroundings are a blur of light blue and white. I feel blinded, fully aware that I won't be able to see the guards before they find me. I'm trying to hold onto the dream, and I sense it. It's a shadow, human-shaped and in the room next to me. One of the guards - his aura is completely black, and I can feel him getting closer. He solidifies as a human shadow -

      I strike out at him, hitting him in the temple. Before he has a chance to react, I have him in a full nelson, choking him. He's losing oxygen, starting to pass out.

      He doesn't have to die, I could just knock him out. Maybe I should stop killing them. This is their job, they probably have families. No. I'm just too close, physically. I'm feeling his fear. A memory washes across the surface of his mind. He's on a job, on a team with three others. Capturing a girl. They rape her.

      I freeze. I almost recoil, but the man's waking up, starting to struggle.

      A snarl of rage is coming from me, and I throw him to the ground. I disable his vocal cords with a wave of my hand, and he's inching away, trying to scream for help. I weave a wordless spell in blue, lay it over him.

      He's frozen for a moment, as he begins to lift up into the air, gravity losing its effect on him. I'm standing back now, as he starts to tug against invisible bonds. I summon another wave of energy.

      Glass shatters into thousands of pieces, and this man, too, goes flying. He's falling up, though, up and up and up, screaming soundlessly, clearing the outcropping near the top of the skyscraper, falling into the sky.

      Even if the spell fails before he hits the stratosphere, well. It's a long way down.

      Killing in the open.

      I'm surrounded. Six mooks in blue, four fighters in red, and the leader, a Djinn. Bald and muscular, covered in shifting blue tattoos, he's easily the most threatening presence in the room.

      I wave my hand, sending a wave of kinetic energy at them. Four out of six mooks have their necks snapped, dead before they hit the ground. The remaining combatants have too strong of a will to be taken out of the game so easily.

      I need a stronger spell. I call up blue-tinted soul energy, holding it in my right hand, and I rush one of the mooks and force it into his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, one, two, and the energy pulses, entwining with his soul and pulling it out of him.

      I'm counting numbers in my head: 20, 24. The numbers seem arbitrary, but they help me keep track of the soul energy. If I hit zero, I'll be powerless.

      The Djinn hits me from behind, and I can feel my numbers sink to 17. Snarling, I pull free of his grip and hit him with a pulse of the energy. He's flying backwards and I'm down to 16.

      The red-shirts are in my way, and I down two, one with each hand. Their souls pulse out and back into their bodies, frying them. I absorb the excess. 27.

      I'm ready this time. I block the Djinn, meeting his attack with a soul shield. The energy sparks dangerously with the impact, and we're both forced back, sliding several feet. 23.

      Where are the other guys? The floor is conspicuously empty. Jim Gordon is standing on the sidelines, surrounded by the remaining mooks. They've got his gun.

      Cursing, I put up an energy shield as I fry the mooks with soul energy. 7. "Run!" I shout at him, "Get the fuck out of here!"

      He's hesitating. Why is he hesitating?

      My shield is draining me. I'm blocking an attack by the Djinn. 4. "You have all the evidence we need to shut them down! You need to get out!"

      Something in my tone convinces him. He's turning on his heel and running, and I'm turning around to face the Djinn.

      "I can take care of things on this end," I say, and I let the shield drop.

      Happy endings.

      I'm walking through the building at the mall level, a skip in my step. It's daylight, and there are people around. A feeling of contentment is going through me, and I ignore the graves being built near the side entrances of the mall.

      I'm a child, and I construct a mother DC out of nothing.

      Something is coming to an end, some mystery was solved. It feels like closure.

      Scare Factor: 4/10

      On second thought, think I may have lost that fight. Djinn in the Supernatural universe "grant wishes" by trapping their victims in a dream world and sucking out their life energy. Happy ending? I don't think so.

      I think this deserves another play-through.

      (P.S. This has nothing to do with the anime of the same name.)
    2. #118. Devil in the Gateway

      by , 08-03-2010 at 05:08 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      I feel like I'm writing bad fanfiction subconsciously. I find it interesting that in the past two months I've had several dreams that carry on from previous ones.

      Also, more Lucifer.

      07/23/10

      Castiel gets captured. I offer to help with the rescue.

      "Let him go, you bitch!" I shout.

      "Oh, Dean," says Lilith. "You don't understand. You've already lost."


      I hate losing.

      I throw myself back through the dream, back through the sewers that lead to the Hellmouth, zooming back over flooded streets and abandoned rafts and into a warehouse that I fought my way through not long ago.(1)

      I arrive before Sam and Dean Winchester ever found themselves ambushed here, taking up precious time in our search. I can't afford that loss again.

      A man is kneeling on the floor at the center of the warehouse. His face and arms are bare, and I can see designs swirling everywhere on his exposed flesh in patterns of black and blue. The tattooed man paints symbols on the floor, dipping his fingers into a wooden bowl filled with something red and sticky.



      "Damian Masters." I say tonelessly. My voice reverberates through the building. Damian stands up, startled, and I step out of the shadows.

      "Who are you?" He rasps, panicked.

      "Have you ever heard the name 'Samael'?" I ask him.

      He shakes his head.

      "I'm an angel." I manage to say it with a straight face.

      Damian falls to the ground and bows his head. I try not to let my irritation show. "What can I do?"

      "We have need of Dean Winchester," I say importantly. "Allow him to leave. Kill the other one."

      "Of course," he breathes, "The boy with the demon blood."

      I walk across the room, deliberately scuffing the blood sigil where it won't be noticed. I roll my eyes. "So mote it be." I say in a mocking tone.

      ***

      Dean steps onto the oversized raft, stumbling a little as it bobs under his weight. He turns around and catches the knife Sam throws at him. He breathes out slowly once he catches his balance again. (2)

      "Watch it, Sam. I don't want to go diving for this stuff." He rubs his eyes and sighs. "Be careful."

      "You're doing the dangerous part," says Sam, rolling his eyes. "I'm just casting the spell here because it's on the right ley lines."

      "Other people thought so, too," warns Dean. "That blood on the floor still looks fresh."

      "Get on with it, Dean. Castiel's not getting out of Hell on his own."

      Dean unties the rope from the pier and casts off, sending his brother a sarcastic two-finger salute. Sam grins and salutes back. He only watches Dean drift off for a moment, carried by the current through the flooded city. He picks up a canvas bag and spreads its contents over a table, ready to start the ritual.

      He gets so caught up in his task that he almost ignores the little warning voice that goes off in his head. He dodges to the side as a fireball slams into the table, sending his ritual ingredients up in flames. Sparing no time for disappointment, he runs over to where the guns should be, only to find them... gone.

      He turns around to face the other man. The tattooes on his face and arms, Sam thinks, they probably let him manipulate energy. The man's face is twisted into a triumphant grin, and Sam looks down, realizing he's at the center of the blood sigil on the floor. The tattooed man raises a hand, covered in glowing swirls, and presses it to the concrete.

      ***

      His raft floats through the flooded city, guided by a spellbound current. The shadows of buildings jut out of the water, reaching toward the orange sky as if in their death throes. Barnacles cling to the rotting and rusting wood and steel. Some of the buildings have collapsed in on themselves, leaving twisted metal sitting low to the water. Dean steers carefully around them.



      "Dean Winchester, yeah?"

      Dean spins around with the knife raised. "Yeah? And who are you?"

      The boat tips a little, and I look back at him, unimpressed. "I'm here to help," I say with a smile. "You can call me Lucy. Things will get confusing, otherwise."

      "Really. Okay, Lucy," says Dean, "Why should I trust you?"

      "You probably shouldn't," I tell him honestly, "But I owe Castiel a favour, and I pay my debts."

      Dean eyes me suspiciously, but he lowers the knife.

      "Excellent." I say. "Now, we have a problem."

      "Of course we do."

      "Castiel's vessels have gone missing."

      "His vessel? The guy he's possessing?"

      "The daughter as well. You haven't met them yet?"(3) I receive an uncomprehending stare as my answer. "Whatever. He needs a vessel, and you're it." A pause. "Don't look at me like that, it's only temporary."

      "Why not you?" asks Dean, "That'd be a good way to pay back your 'debt', wouldn't it?"

      "How many humans do you know that can teleport onto a raft in the middle of nowhere?" I ask impatiently. "I'm an occupied vessel; it doesn't work that way."

      Dean is silent as I latch onto the decorative post of a balcony and bring the raft to a stop. "We're hee-ere," I sing-song quietly, stepping onto the concrete deck. Dean shoots me a look, hand hovering near the gun concealed under his jacket.

      We step through the archway, into a cobblestone hallway filled with rot and mold. Dean's nose scrunches in distaste, but I can't smell anything. A rusted metal ladder is built into the opposite wall, and I make a motion towards it. Be my guest.

      Dean eyes the ladder. "I thought we were going into the sewers."

      "We are." I confirm. Dean looks at me askance, and I roll my eyes. "We're walking towards a gateway to Hell! You can't expect reality to work properly."

      Dean makes a disbelieving noise, but moves to the ladder and starts climbing up it. I follow a few seconds behind, looking up to track Dean's progress.

      Wow. Those are some really nice jeans.

      Climbing up brings us a level down, and we trudge through muddy water and orange-lit brick until we find an opening in the wall. Dean and I stand on either side of it, catching our breath and shaking out our shoes.

      "Are you ready?" I ask. "Lilith's on the other side."

      "Ready as I'll ever be." Dean shoots me a grin. We step through the opening.

      It's bright. The gateway is orange-white, shedding the room with stark light and bleaching out the red brick. Lilith stands near the doorway, hands clasped loosely over her white dress. Her blonde hair flutters in a non-existant breeze.

      I squint against the light. "Claire Novak?" I say incredulously. "Oh, irony of ironies. Nice one, Lilith."



      The little girl smiles pleasantly. "I thought it was fitting, using an angelic vessel as my own." She holds a hand up to the light, studying her fingers. "It was actually quite simple to burn out the angelic protections."

      "You're borrowing from Azazel." I muse, "His bastardising the Winchester line."

      "Demon blood," snaps Dean. "Can we get on with it? If this is a seal, what did you need an angel for?"

      "An angel?"

      "Castiel." I supply helpfully.

      Lilith laughs, her voice clear and deceptively innocent. "Oh, of course," she says, "Heaven has him, and I have no more need of opening seals. Lucifer walks the earth."

      "What?"

      "Castiel's superiors were unhappy with his exercising free will," I state calmly. "They're currently re-educating him."(4)

      Dean rounds on me. "Whose side are you on?"

      "Huh. Good question. I'm still going to need at least one of the vessels." I say to Lilith.

      "Can we go back to the bit where Lucifer is free?"

      "Dean, your presence is extraneous at the moment," I say, tilting my head sideways as I look at Lilith's teenage meatsuit. "Shut up."

      Dean looks about ready to hit me, but I wave a hand and he collapses.

      "My lord?" says Lilith carefully.

      "Not today." I say, "Tell me, what is it you're after?"

      "The end of all things." She responds immediately. "The apocalypse, which you are destined to bring about." (5)

      I smile as I approach her. "Destiny," I say, placing a hand on her head, "Is bullshit."

      Lilith's demonic form - grey and wispy and spiralling out of control - is forced out of Claire Novak's body. The light grey smoke hurtles toward the Hellmouth, screaming. It stills a second, pulling with all its might against the vortex, before succumbing to the orange-white light, falling back into Hell. The gate closes, dousing the room in shadow.

      I will definitely regret doing that at some point.

      I push the thought from my mind. In the next moment, I'm pulling on an incorporeal thread, tearing Castiel away from the torments of Heaven and back into human form. Blinding white light fills the room once more, before focusing on the girl.

      Castiel opens her eyes.

      "Lucifer," she says magnanimously.

      I grin. "Hey, Cas. You should probably go rescue your other vessel. And Sam Winchester. Dean's fine," I say, seeing Castiel look over at the unconscious man.

      There's an awkward pause.

      "Why did you -"

      "You let me go." I say, "Now we're even." (6)

      I disappear without another word.

      Castiel stares at the spot for a moment, before going over to Dean and tapping him on the forehead.

      ***

      When Castiel appears back at the warehouse, supporting a groggy Dean Winchester, Sam is leaning against a table with his arms crossed, facing the tattooed man. The man is currently trussed up and tied to a chair, his head lolling at an awkward angle. Sam doesn't take his eyes off him.

      "Who the hell is this guy?" Dean demands, inconspicuously taking his weight off of Castiel's shoulders.

      "I have no idea," says Sam, "He attacked me, tried to activate a blood sigil." In response to Dean's worried look, Sam shrugs. "It didn't work," he says, "The outer circle was broken."

      "Well, that was lucky," says Dean, sounding suspicious. "Anyway, we've got bad news. Cas?" He looks around, only to realize that Castiel is already gone. "Damn it."

      Devil in the Gateway. Scare Factor: 4.


      1. This dream continued on from a previous one that I don't properly recall. I think I was Dean. Sam and I fought Masters, the tattooed man in the warehouse, but it slowed us down considerably. Sam still stayed behind to do the ritual, but it completely screwed things up for us. When I replayed the dream, I kept Masters from attacking Dean, and sabotaged the ritual at the same time. I think.

      2. A good portion of this dream was in the third person. My character wasn't spying so much as I was watching cutscenes.

      3. Supernatural 4x20 "The Rapture", which aired over a year ago. We meet Castiel's human host, Jimmy Novak, and his family. Claire, the daughter, is briefly possessed as well.

      4. Actually happened in the TV series. Same episode.

      5. This was Lilith's motivation in Mike Carey's Lucifer comic series.

      6. I can't believe I remembered that. According to this dream, Castiel let me beat him in our last fight. I resent the implication.

      In other complaints, why is teleporting so easy during non-lucids?

      Also, I haven't been online much for the past couple of weeks. Summertime! I'll do my best to get caught up with everyone's DJ entries.