Things to Run Away From Really Fast

I'm a vampire that's hunting vampires.

Sam & Dean Winchester are hunting me.

The woman I killed was a vampire preying on the local townspeople, but you can always trust Hunters to not understand nuance.

Later, I'm using telekinesis on small objects around my grandmother's living room. I'm finding that I can easily lift objects that are within about four feet of me, but to move anything further away, I have to move closer. I find this frustrating, because I know I'm dreaming, and this is all about what I believe I can do.

It's a rubber band bracelet thingy, for gods' sake! This shouldn't be that hard!

★★★☆☆

SOLO SENTENCE ESPRESSO

It takes fifteen minutes of standing on the train tracks and yelling before the chupacabra shows up and dies and is recorded onto a tape so that its soul is sufficiently trapped for eternity (or until the sequel); I'm late for work and Dean's hit by a train, but we get better.

Chupacabra. Chupacabras? Scare Factor: 3.

★★★☆☆

I finally got to move away from Saskatchewan, so I'm happy about that. Haven't really been concentrating on my dreams, though.

Also, Halloween is the best holiday ever.

10/31/10



An angel and I talk economics.

"You gambled my soul away in a poker game?" Bobby growls, his voice growing louder with every syllable.

Balthazar raises his hands in a peaceful gesture, as best he can while I have him held up by the collar of his two piece suit.

break

"Look at that man over there," says Balthazar, pointing across the street. "What do you think would happen if you said to him, 'Give me your soul, and you can have anything you want in the world'?"

The sun is shining down on us; the crisp autumn breeze brushes leaves through the gutters. The man pulls his overcoat more closely around himself, hurrying his steps towards the church on Eleventh.

"He'll say no." I say in a low voice, my arms crossed over my chest.

"He'll tell you to fuck off, is what he'll do. Pop culture's done more to harm the trade than religion ever did. He probably doesn't believe he has a soul, and he still won't sign it over." Balthazar takes a breath, grins. "Look, the trick is to ask for something smaller."

The man is out of sight, now.

The trick, apparently, is to plan for the long term. Get someone to agree to a small price, a small favour in exchange for their needful thing. These agreements, they're bound to the bloodline. If the man doesn't pay back the favour, rest assured that his children will.

Chances are, we'll get our soul eventually.

break

When Dean comes to, he's leaning against a concrete wall in an underground parking garage. He doesn't know exactly where he is or what he's doing there, but he knows it can't be good.

Dean stumbles up the exit ramp, blinks a bit against the cool night air.

Click. Look up.

Sam's at the top of the ramp, pointing a gun directly at his brother.

"Sammael," says Sam Winchester, his voice cold.

Dean fades to black, and I smile up at Sam.

break

In which I try to solve a puzzle involving time travel.

Standing at the ticket counter, drumming my fingers impatiently against the arborite. The ticket-seller has my passport in her hand. She glances at the name, up at my face, at a poster I can't see behind the glass, and her face goes white. She hands me back the passport, slides two tickets under the glass, and tries not to meet my eyes. I smile and thank her, and I take my thinks and walk into the parking lot.

I open the driver's seat door to an Oldsmobile, my parents' car when I was younger, and start the engine. Zoe is sitting in the passenger seat.

"They're already onto us." I tell her. "Buses aren't running, cops'll be all over the place within an hour. We have to drive."

break

And now it's real life, and I tell Zoe I'm leaving Calgary. It's two years into the future, and I've been in one place too long.

break

"Where are we?" I demand. My voice is quiet, but the threat is there.

Daniel smiles, suddenly nervous. "This is one of the last human settlements on Earth."

"I'm waiting."

"From your point of view," he says slowly, "I suppose this is the future."

Zoe stands quietly behind me.

break

I step through the sliding metal doors, out into an oasis of footpaths and greenery, quiet places for meditation and training. Above us is a dome, given away by the subtle waves in its surface, the way it refracts the light from the bright skies above. Beyond the dome is the endless desert that the earth has become.

break

"When you say this is the future," I ask Daniel, "Exactly how far do you mean?"

He hesitates. "Well, it's been at least... it's been tens of billions of years."

He's expecting me to freak out, but I simply nod, having had my suspicions confirmed. "And physiologically, humans have remained the same for the last... tens of billions of years?"

Daniel frowns, and looks at me, searching. "Physiologically? You mean evolution."

"And there have been no significant changes." I state, daring him to contradict me. "You know what this means?"

"Someone's been breeding us."

Scare Factor: 2/10

08/08/10

I'm part of a story in a familiar seeming place. Everything's happening out of order, events and dialogue added where I think the story needs it. As I wake up, I see the story written out on a word processor.

I wake up. As I fall back asleep, I enter HH. I'm a younger version of Dean Winchester, and there's something I still need to do. I'm still lucid, but I don't want to wake myself up, so I fall into the dream.

***

I'm a giant, fighting a tiny man as we climb up a water tower. I try to kick him off my foot, but he's holding on, trying to stab my toes.

***

I'm in prison. I'm sitting with a group of people, all handcuffed with zip-ties, our hands wound up in green mesh. My mom and dad are there, part of the dozen or so people jammed into the cell, sitting on the wooden benches where there's room.



Despite the lack of space, I'm not crowded on the bench. I'm also pretty much ignoring everyone in the room, now that the guards are gone. I'm concentrating on removing the zip-ties. I think I might have been chewing through them at some point, but with a flourish, I have them off my wrists. I hold onto the mess of plastic for a second, think about pretending I'm still trapped, but I let it fall to the floor. I'll take my chances.

Finally, we get our own cells. All of the doors are open, so I calmly walk over to the cell by the window and sit down on the bed. Originally, we were supposed to be sharing cells, but there aren't any bunk beds. There is no privacy; everything that isn't an outside wall is made of narrow bars, four inches apart. My mom takes the cell beside mine.

Lights out. A guard comes over to check that we're in bed. He stands too close, but I'm not worried. I sense no malevolence in him.

Which is fortunate, for his sake.

The guard shuffles away and I stand up, moving silently in the shadows. The locked door to my cell swings open of its own accord, and I walk, unnoticed, right out of the building.

***

I'm a hunter. Female, with long, curly black hair. I'm interviewing witnesses, trying to figure out what's going on in this town. Someone recognizes me from an earlier hunt, and claims I'm a cop.

***

Two versions of Dean Winchester sit at different tables at a restaurant. One is just barely older than the other. The younger one approaches him.

"You know, I've had a hell of a time since you got the cops after you again."

***



There are two versions of Dean Winchester, but the age difference is exaggerated. One of them is a child, and the other is an old man.

They're at the entrance of an old quanset on a farm, when I see a flash of something happening in the distance. Six plumes of light grey smoke fly from the ground and hurtle toward us.

Sam and Dean, about five and nine at the moment, are outside. A little piece of narration goes off in my head.

They're after the kids. Demons who steal away children that wander off on their own. It's part of the local folklore.

I'm hardly there at all, so the older Dean has to decide who to save: the younger Sam or the younger Dean. Of course he goes after Sam, and I stay inside, waiting, as the demons approach mini-Dean.

When they grab him, when they go hurtling through the air towards their base, I phase through the wall and take off after them.

"Omnipitus omundi patronus," I mutter to myself, sneaking into an old farmhouse. Wait, Patronus?

Just like that, I'm lucid. I smile, and crawl into the small entranceway. Bits of dust flake off of everything I touch, and I find myself crawling as the hallway gets smaller and smaller.

A woman attacks me out of nowhere. By all rights, I shouldn't be able to move in the small hallway I've wedged myself into. I won't consider myself trapped, though. I lash out, grabbing the woman by the jaw and the back of her head, and I twist.

The woman falls to the floor, her neck broken.

The house is normal sized again, and I walk into the bedroom, see the young Dean lie sprawled out over the bed. "Omnipitus omundi patronus," I repeat, but nothing happens. I sigh, and pick the boy up, ready to run him back to his brother and older self.

Claustrophobia. Scare Factor: 2.

Apparently, this dream follows directly after #118. Also, I'm stealing titles directly from Mike Carey's Lucifer.

07/26/10

Sam and Dean want to kill the devil. I "help".

Sam climbs into the passenger seat of the Impala and slips on the pair of sunglasses resting on the dash. He lets his head fall back onto the seat and rubs his temples. (I marvel over the strange purple glow of our surroundings.) The driver's side door slams shut, and he lifts up his head. Dean has his hands clenched tight on the steering wheel, and stares into the desert horizon with his jaw clenched. Frustration seems to roll off him in waves.

They're back on the road before either of them says anything.

"So," says Dean, "We can either drive to Death Valley, or fly to the Himalayas." His tone makes it clear what he thinks of the idea.

"Death Valley's closer."

Dean raises his eyebrows, "With our luck, do you really think the devil managed to stay stateside?"

"I'd rather go to the Himalayas, personally." I say.

The car almost lurches off the road. Dean twists around in his seat to look at me. "Don't do that."

"We have wooden stakes in the trunk." Sam says mildly. "Trickster."

"When has that ever worked?" I ask. "Anyway, why are we going to the Himalayas?"

"We're not." growls Dean. His eyes are back on the road.

"We're trying to kill the devil." Sam says reasonably.

"Oh," I say, nodding along. "Why?"

"You know," says Dean, "Prevent the apocalypse, save humanity, that kind of thing?"

"There's a system of doors in Tibet that lead into other worlds. A psychic we talked to said that Lucifer left traces in the mountains that are somehow tied to these portals."

"The Nevernever." I say. "Yeah, we should check it out. Keep an eye out for vegan faeries."

"Right, I'm sure they're vicious little buggers," says Dean.

"Oh, they are. Somehow, human flesh satisfies the parameters of their diet."

***

"Nice office," says Dean, flopping gracelessly onto a black leather chair. He puts his feet up onto the desk. Bits of dirt flake off of his shoes onto the polished surface, and I hide a grin.

Sam just looks annoyed.

"Most of the objects in this room move along certain paths," I say, "Like levers. Get the right arrangement and the door will open right up."

"Unless, of course, you know a shortcut." The voice is British, and female, and I turn around to study her.

"Bela." says Dean. "Back from Hell already?"

"Someone had a job for me," she says, holding up a gun and pointing it at him, "And I am very good at my job." She smiles. "By the way, you might want to hurry. I informed security you were here."

Our eyes are drawn to the other hallway, where we hear a door click open. I look back. Bela's gone.

"God-fucking-dammit," says Dean.

"You figure out the combination," I say. "I'll distract him."

I stride into the hallway without looking back. Standing there, looking livid, is a man in a business suit. He's big and round, and his hair is white where he still has any. He slams the door behind him.

"Do you know who I am?" says the man, furious, "Do you know what I could do to you?" He pulls out a gun and points it at me.

"Not much?" I say, pretending to consider. "Relax. We need your door to the Nevernever, and then we'll be out of your hair."

"Impudence!" He snarls, "Just like my youngest son! I'll have you all killed!" He starts ranting about his plan to have me implicated in a gay affair with his son, followed by an elaborate murder-suicide.

I peer around the corner into the main office, since he's not actually paying much attention to me. Like I'd hoped, the Winchesters are gone. I turn back to the man, who by this time is ranting incoherently. I cough politely, hoping to get his attention.

He stops, panting.

"While that's a very... impressive evil plan (and you wouldn't have much trouble framing those two for anything) there is one tiny little flaw."

"And what is that?"

"I don't die."

The old man laughs and raises his hand - only to realize that he's no longer holding the gun. He freezes in shock and I wave a hand, banishing the Corrupt Corporate Executive to the late 51st century. He really won't like it there.

I take Bela's shortcut into the Nevernever, circumventing the need to play with furniture again. I appear at the top of a cliff covered in vegetation, which overlooks a hotel swimming pool and hot tub.

Sam and Dean stand on one side of the pool, facing off against Bela on the other side. I look for a way down, but there isn't one. I resign myself to jumping the fifteen-odd meters, knowing that there's no way for the fall to hurt me. I aim for the tile floor -

Only to land on the very edge of the pool. My feet impact the edge of the tile floor and slip off the edge into the water. I grit my teeth, feeling my dream-body reset itself, and I pull myself back onto the deck.

"You okay?" Asks Sam.

"Fine," I say, standing up and composing myself. "I don't die, as a rule." I notice Dean's weapon is trained on Bela. "Neither will she, you idiot."

As if in response, Bela spits a gob of blood onto the tile.

"Oh," I say, "They gave you a time limit."

"Apparently we're looking for different things," she says, her voice low, "Don't get in my way." She turns around and disappears into the cave system on the other side of the room.

There's a collective breath of relief.

"So," I say, turning to the boys, "Did you have a plan?"

"Find the devil," says Dean, "Shoot him in the head?"

"So, where is the devil?" asks Sam.

"I don't know," I lie with a shrug, "You guys said you wanted to go to the Himalayas."

"You said the devil came here!"

"It's what I'd do," I say innocently. "Anyway, plane tickets are in Sam's backpack. I have to run."

When I disappear, Dean is looking a little green.

***

I find him in a warehouse, beside a cracked-open wooden crate. Empty green wine bottles litter the ground, and Castiel himself - back in his original vessel - is sprawled out on the ground, leaning against the box. He has a half empty wine bottle in one of his hands.

I appear next to the crate, eyeing Castiel thoughtfully. I grab a full bottle and sit down on the concrete, popping the cork with a thought. Castiel's eyes roll up to look at me.

"Bad day at the office?" I ask, clinking my bottle of wine against his.

His face twists into a frown. "Being rescued by Lucifer didn't exactly set me up for a promotion."

"Well, I'd tell you they'll get over it," I say, taking a sip of wine, "But this is Heaven we're talking about. That lot can hold a grudge into eternity."

Castiel snorts. "You're not helping."

"Should I?" I ask, genuinely curious. "You wouldn't accept any advice from me. I'm the Deceiver, after all."

Castiel is quiet for a long time. I go steal chocolate bars from another section of the warehouse.

A Dalliance with the Damned. Scare Factor: 3.

WakingNomad provided the narration for the warehouse scene. Somehow. I think Microsoft Word was open in another window while I was experiencing the scene itself.

Also, I've somehow rewritten Season 4 of Supernatural subconsciously. So yeah.

P.S. I make up most of my dialogue. I don't remember the exact wording, so I improvise. I am a vile, evil attention-monger, I tell you.

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.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

I scrutinize my real life appearance for effectiveness as an assassin. I conclude that I will easily be able to infiltrate the corporation.

I get an apartment in Halifax that's mostly identical to my old one. Apparently I'm subletting from someone else, though, as I keep finding old-lady clothes around the place. It's also furnished, which is nice, even if the furniture is ugly as hell.

I'm Dean Winchester. I help Sam choose a truck and trailer so he can go drive off into the prairie sunset. The theme of this dream is basically that it's time to let Sam go on his own. This is a much more peaceful scenario than the Supernatural finale.

I'm a guy with a mullet, driving a semi-trailer. I'm about to be accused of a crime I didn't do, and I'm trying to skew the evidence in my favor before they think to come after me. Maybe I had an in-dream premonition, or maybe I'm on another dream-loop.

I'm mad at the really cold weather, then I'm mad at the really hot weather, then I'm mad at the really cold weather, and oh my God, that really is freezing. Warmth now please.

I'm living with my second cousins, and also fighting my brother for one of the basement suites. His friend gets it. Damn.

One of my cousins finds out something about my character (I don't know what), and she takes her sisters and leaves.

I'm driving along the highway, now, but the lane I need to be in keeps changing, and I'm cutting people off. I end up at a McDonalds, because there's something I need to pick up there.

I'm inside. The place is empty, and isn't being used as a restaurant. Something about a box. I check my inventory and see a vat of cotton that I have to sell later.

The city is being evacuated. I have to hurry. I go upstairs, blue and red lightsabers drawn. I wonder if my cousins could have been party-members if I hadn't scared them off. Oh well, I'm still near the beginning of the game.

I enter one of the offices and fight the people inside. I win.

RPGs. Scare Factor: 1.

July 1, 2010

Happy Canada Day, fellow Canadians.

People who walk into your life and claim to be a long lost relative are not to be trusted.

Sam and Dean are on a hunt with yet another member of their missing family unit. Let's call her Sue. I think I'm Dean for most of this dream.

The three of us are after a ghost. Sam's in danger, but Sue pulls him out of the way.

It turns out she's a demon. She uses a variation on the Enochian banishing sigil (for angels) to send us careening straight into our respective heavens. "Oh, I'll be fine." She says, "I'm going the other way."

From the third person, I'm watching Dean in his heaven, fixing cars. This weird tentacle being made of energy shows up and acts as the MS Office paperclip. You know the one.

Dean's becoming increasingly annoyed by the little helper. Meanwhile, I'm trying to force myself/him to remember what's going on so we can get out of here and find Sam.

---

I'm in Quickton, taking lessons from a guy with a rusty red truck so I can become a driving instructor. I'm driving the truck, and a guy makes fun of me for it. Then we go protest something outside of Tim Hortons.

I'm driving down grid roads with the truck. I'm going to meet someone. I have to pull over to take a piss, but I decide I should wait until I wake up.

I'm living in a house that I'm helping my parents build. We've already moved in, but we haven't finished building the second floor. My bedroom is up there, so a lot of climbing is involved.

FA. I wake up in the basement of my house in Ixburg. There are little bugs crawling over my blanket. They're about a centimeter long and they look like cockroaches crossed with shrimp. I try to ignore them, but I don't like them.

I'm a ten year old boy in boot camp. I have an upper bunk, and the ladder to get there is probably twelve feet tall. I'm having the time of my life. There's a warning on the top step of the ladder. It says that if you let your kids climb on this, you're a bad parent. The ladder falls backwards and catches on one of the other beds. I'm still hanging on.

I'm telling all my DCs that I've just had a brilliant idea. You know that holographic keyboard?



We should make a box the size of a rubix cube and project games from it. It'd be brilliant. I conjure up a prototype and place it on the desk. Then my POV runs through various games in full-screen.

Cousins. Scare Factor: 2.

In which Dad's driving lands the family in deep water. I think I saw this on Mythbusters once.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Give me five minutes, Dean - I just got off work."

I head inside and pull off my white t-shirt, and get changed into a black t-shirt and jeans. When I come back outside, Dean (and his dad's truck) are gone.

I call Sam, because Dean never answers his phone. He's laughing at me.

"Did he just ditch you again?"

"Apparently. That bitch."

***

Uncle Roy and his daughter, Natasha (who appears to be about three, here), are running up backwards escalators that are taking them to our family reunion. I join in, jumping over railings and taking the most efficient route.

I'm at the house, looking over the food table for vegetarian stuff. A younger version of myself is standing on the other side of the room. I go over to talk to zir*, but zie's avoiding me. Eventually we have to pose for a picture together, arms thrown across each other's shoulders. Well, the universe didn't explode, so we're doing fine.

I think up elaborate reasons as to why there are two of us, but I don't remember what they were.

***

I'm in the car with my dad and Roy's three daughters. They're all under ten in this dream. We're driving through a city, maybe Halifax, and I'm giving my dad directions from the back seat.

"Okay, now you're in the wrong lane," I tell him. "Turn right here."

The road takes us down to the harbour, and I tell my dad to turn left.

Instead, he decides to do a powerslide down the dock.


Oh god, oh god, we're all going to die.

We've almost made it to 180 degrees, and I decide to trust my dad, because he's a better driver than I am, really. I'm still gripping tight onto the seat, watching the world spin around us.

The momentum throws the car right off the dock. We land with a splash in the deep water, and I have a moment of disbelief. Seriously, my brother just totalled our last car.** Now this?

I'm searching for my bag, knowing that there's something important in there.

Found it. I'm holding a flashlight.

My dad tells me to aim for the window controls next to me, and smash them with the flashlight. Three of us start pounding away at our respective window-ledges with our respective flashlights. I stop for a second and see pedestrians on the boardwalk, watching us dumbly. The car is half full of water by now, and I hope one of them has the sense to dial 911.

I smash through the controls and the important wire. The window disappears. I help the girls out of the car, as the water has almost reached the window. I slide out of the window, and my dad is right behind me. I swim to the dock and pull an unresponsive (but physically unharmed) Natasha from the water.

Later, I talk to someone about the reason I didn't panic. I shrug and tell him that I figured someone would rescue us if we couldn't get out. He's doubtful, but I tell him that it didn't have to be true - it was something I told myself so I'd be able to function.

Sinking Cars. Scare Factor: 4.

*ILU, gender-neutral pronouns.

**No, really.

I'm in the local theatre with a group of girls. Apparently we're about to play out The Handmaid's Tale, and as I'm not a fan of that particular dystopia, I'd rather not. As soon as everyone's asleep, I wake up another girl and start running.

In retrospect, it would have been smarter to leave her behind.

We're fleeing down a gold-gilded hallway toward a mirror I plan to use as an escape. (The mirror really exists in my parents' house.) I see a shadow run through the mirror and I attempt to follow, but I smack against it and push on the glass. I give up quickly; there's someone hot on our heels.

We run into an empty-of-furniture bedroom, and begin to literally climb the walls looking for a way out. The closet is an escape route. I turn around to look at my fellow escapee. She's wearing the dream-avatar I was just using, complete with wild orange hair. I'm a brunette now.

There's a third girl in the room with us.

shift

I'm in a high-tech facility, a space station, and I'm alone. I pickpocket an Asian woman's key card as I bump into her, and slip through a guarded door. The guard on the other side of the door, and asks for ID as I come through. I hand him the card. I strike at him. I take him down quickly, before he has a chance to call for backup.

My presence has raised alarms. They don't know where I am, but I'm being chased. I need to move quickly.

There's a control panel in the next room. It's triangular, with an assortment of round buttons that don't make any sense. Since I'm dreaming, only intent is important, and it doesn't matter which buttons I push. I focus on my goal, pressing buttons at random.

This dream is exciting, so I don't abandon it. I head for the nearest set of double doors leading to a staircase.

I find a scientist/doctor who's actually on my side. I'm sequestered in her office, and nobody will know that I'm here for a while yet. She takes a sample of my skin cells and runs a test. Surprisingly, the results indicate that I'm completely human.

"Where's a scalpel?" I mutter. I take an x-acto knife off of the nearest counter and push the blade into my palm. Blood pools into my hand.

"Now look," I say to the doctor. I brush the blood away from the cut, showing completely intact skin below.

I'm trying to stay in-character as someone with a healing-factor. I move over to the sink, washing the quickly congealing blood down the drain. My logic is that you can do all sorts of nasty things to someone if you have their blood.

I'm in the cafeteria. I'm looking for a free-run sequence. I run up the wall to an upper balcony, pulling myself up into the rafters and flinging myself forward without losing momentum. I'm trying to go up and up and

shift

Sam and Dean Winchester are saving people and hunting things. I'm playing as Dean while trying not to get Sam W. mixed up with my username. A man needs help rescuing his daughter and his pregnant wife from the evil scientists several Levels down. We take the elevator from Level 7 down to one of the sub levels.

The rescue is successful, but unfortunately, both of the children are evil. We eventually convince the five-year-old not to kill us all, and she decides to be a force for good. It reminded me of the daughter of the Basanos in the Sandman spinoff, Lucifer.*



*Super-powerful being rapes its host, host becomes pregnant, tries for a magical abortion, unborn daughter tries to kill everyone, and God's granddaughter erases everyone's memory so they can live normal, happy lives.

John Winchester pops out of nowhere in order to tell his sons something important. Dean doesn't want to hear it, I really don't care, and Sam W.'s starting to wonder if his brother has dissociative identity disorder. Somehow, this devolves into a man-hug as I flip back and forth from a male character to a female one. No one else seems to notice.

shift

My character (a child) is trapped playing out endless scenarios for a... troll... or something. I'm crawling through the mud under a two-foot high bridge, eying the puddle to the centre warily. I'm pretty sure there's alligators down there, and when I think I see (sense) movement, I panic and make for dry land.

And suddenly, I'm in control instead of the child-character.

Fed up with such repetitive terror, I immediately make a break for it when I'm out in the open. I run past ramshackle machinery and jump into a red truck parked near the muddy road. As I start up the truck, ignoring the shrieking of the little goblin by the bridge, I notice it's a standard. Whatever, I drive a motorbike, I can make it work.

I put the truck into gear and drive off down the road. Now it can fit one person, and there's no cab.

Down the road, I find faeries. I'm their guest. One reminds me of Miranda, even though she looks nothing like her. This woman has long, curly brown hair, and is most definitely not Vietnamese. She looks a lot like Liv Tyler, actually.

Fae!Miranda gives me a gift. I accept it, and go off on a mental tangent about the birthday gifts Ron and Hermione may or may not have received. Also, the fact that Miranda and I still haven't gotten together to exchange Christmas '09 gifts.

I want to give a gift of my own. I pull out a box and hand it to the woman. We're part of a group now, sitting around a table. Fae!Miranda opens the box and pulls out a shimmery fabric that seems almost invisible. I explain that the fabric is a magic silk that will enhance - something. Maybe it has defensive powers, or turns the wearer invisible. I don't remember. It was awesome, though. I was wearing some, even.

The silk changes to match the green of the faerie's dress, and flows into her curly hair.

A boy across from me is angry. I receive an image of a black gown - apparently Fae!Miranda's suitor was about to give her a dress. I can feel his jealousy brimming over from across the table.

Misogynists, Scientists, Doctors, Little Girls, Monsters, and Faeries. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: one of these days, giving powerful gifts to potential antagonists is going to come back and bite me.

March 13, 2010

Um, spoilers for Supernatural 5x08.

I think I can state at this point that I am having a bad day. My brother, Sam, has a tendency to randomly disappear and come home possessed, but usually these trips don't involve extra-dimensional portals. Goddamnit.

Also, I can't find my jacket.

"So, you're absolutely sure we'll be able to get back."

"For the last time, boy," Bobby says, glaring at me for asking the same question several times, "This plan is foolproof."

"Right. Foolproof." I look from the frayed rope looped around my waist, tied to a wooden post on Bobby's porch, to the bright and swirly portal leading to God knows where. "Bobby, I don't doubt your excellent research capabilities, but is this really going to work?"

"Do you want to find Sam or not?"

This pretty much ends all discussion on the matter, and I find myself stepping through the ominous swirly lights...

...and into a bar.

The first thing I notice is that guy from the fan convention drinking at the bar. The second thing I notice: he's wearing my jacket. One bar fight later -

(and I have to figure out how to steal a jacket off of someone who's wearing it. In the chaos, I figure it'll be easy enough just to will it into my hands rather than work on the physical mechanics of how you would get a jacket off of someone in a fight)

- I have my jacket back. Oddly, it seems a little big for me.

Sam's on the other side of the room, talking to someone who I don't actually pay any attention to. I march over there, "Excuse us," and drag Sam a few feet away.

"Okay, we have got to get out of here."

Sam just looks amused.

We continue walking over to where the portal is - I can see it, swirly pink and blue lights and all - and I walk through it. Ow. I walk straight into the wall behind it.

"Oh," says Sam, looking thoughtful, "Looks like you can't get me through this way."

I'm out of time; if I don't leave now I'll be trapped in this dimension as well. Away from the apocalypse and all, but still.

A flicker. Sam's face seems overlaid by something. Another face, one that I recognize.

I rush at him, stopped after a couple of feet, held fast to the portal.

"Where's Sam?" I growl.

The fake Sam just smiles and walks away, waving.

"Gabriel!" I shout after him, "GABRIEL!" Everything fades out, and suddenly I'm standing back on Bobby's porch.

"So, how did that go?" asks Bobby.

He gets no response.

"Oh well, we'll try again later."

I stand dumbly on the porch as he walks away for a few moments, before -

That's not Bobby.

Son of a bitch. Where the hell is a wooden stake angel-killing knife archangel's sword when you need one?

Bad Fanfiction. Scare Factor: 2/10. Fun for the writer, torture for the reader. And the Trickster's not too bad... as long as he's not killing you several dozen times over.