Things to Run Away From Really Fast

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

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

It doesn't last long.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're here."

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

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

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

Click.

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

"Any backup?" I ask her.

"Shan."

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

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

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

***

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

02/25/10

I'm Alex and she's Nikita and – shit! I throw myself behind a set of crates as a blaze of gunfire lights up my trail.

"We have to take the south exit!" she shouts over the noise.

"They've anticipated your escape route," I shout back, "It's an ambush!"

"We don't have a choice!"

Splintering wood and conveniently placed explosives under piles of precariously stacked crates – we make a dash for the exit. Don't stop when you're in the open, I tell myself, sprinting across the lawn, It's when you're most vulnerable, and we dive into the river and Alex closes her eyes.

Caught in the slipstream, I nudge at Alex/Nikita. Don't hold your breath, I say. Breathe. It won't hurt you.

Alexandra. Scare Factor: 2.

★★★☆☆

10/28/10

Scrambling up wet black rocks, spray from the waterfall soaking me to the bone. Straight up to the top of the vertical cliff face. Looking out over the dark river snaking through the vast canyon, all sound drowned out by the constant roaring of the falls. Green, black, silver, and blue... It's a clear, crisp day, and I let the joy of the moment wash over me.

The water is too shallow for me to jump safely... but this is a dream. I'm already half awake as I jump, as I plummet. Icy tendrils cut through me as I hit the ice-green water with a splash.

I crawl through the interior of a small school bus surrounded by schools of fish. The sunlight from above barely reaches us, filtered through the water to be a dark yellow-green. I push through the wall of the bus, and it gives way like plastic wrap.

I breathe. Around me, in every direction, are silver fish of every possible size and description. A face appears through the murk. A mermaid, her tail flicking around my leg and then she's in front of me. We're reaching for each other and we're kissing and the scene fades...

And I'm sitting next to him, our knees touching as we laugh about some random happenstance.

Seaweed. Scare Factor: 2/10.

★★☆☆☆

11/19/10

I'm a lifeguard at an indoor pool. We're doing drills, practicing rescue techniques. I stand at the edge of the pool, deliberately collapse into the water.

Someone from high school. He's another lifeguard. He dives in after me, pulls me up to the surface.

Surprised to be shooting up out of the water, suspended in the air for a moment.

I'm staying in a hostel with two friends. Going to our bunk beds, and I'm looking up at the inside of a dome-like structure, planning my escape. We're in a group, aren't allowed to leave at night. I plan to. Sharing a conspiratorial glance with the other troublemakers.

A school. My brother and I are sneaking in with one of the girls from the hostel trip. She doesn't speak English. I shrug, tell my brother to pin the blame on me if we get in trouble. Nothing they can do to me.

Hostel. Scare Factor: 1/10.

Yeah, I haven't been around much. Between moving to a new city and starting a new job (or two, or three), life's been a little hectic. I'll get caught up on others' journals when I get the chance.

Quick roundup of this week's dreams. Yay, real life.



09/14/10 - No recall. None. Very little sleep.

09/15/10 - Illegible handwriting. Apparently this was a dream about drinking.

09/16/10
I'm on a family vacation to the States. There's an entire bulletin board dedicated to the "Ground Zero Mosque" in the lobby of the hotel. This starts me off on a rant about religious tolerance.

The Joker kidnaps two children. They're probably more trouble than they're worth.

I find a swimming pool in the shape of a tea infuser.

09/17/10
I'm driving my dad's old Ford truck. We're carrying something explosive, and if we hit anything suddenly, everything will go up in flames. Suddenly, the brakes are failing, and I have three options: I can drive into a fence, a pile of logs, or a swamp.

We hit the swamp, and the truck sinks into the muck and stops there. It's not sinking any farther though.

My dad turns around and looks at me. He's about to start yelling.

"Good thing this is a dream, right?" I say sheepishly.

Pause.

"Hey, this is a dream!"

I spend the rest of the dream climbing buildings. I'm having trouble flying, but I find that if I swing my arms and move my feet, I can walk vertically up the side of walls.

Scare Factor: 3/10
Rating: 3/10

This one's not very exciting.

08/28/10



We're speeding down the river, and I'm at the front of the boat, grinning and clutching my paddle in a death grip. Spray from the river hits my face and I blink against it. We hit a bump in the water -

We're no longer in a boat. Our group - made up of my immediate family - glides through the calm water of the last stretch. We're sitting on what appears to be an oversized crazy-carpet. It's purple.

We float past the finish line and climb out of the water. I think we placed third. We have to wait for the rest of the contestants, so we go inside a cabin filled with picnic tables.

I take a beer from one of our coolers and twist open the lid. My cousins are gathering at one of the tables, so I go sit with them.

I'm holding a plastic cup. Inside is a pet - a tiny swimming thing that could be either a plant or an animal. It looks a bit like an anemone. I'm showing it to the others and it's growing before our eyes. At one point, we're playing with it, and it grabs onto a lock of my hair (that has mysteriously grown long). It's pulling on it, but I tell my cousins not to worry, it doesn't hurt.

My preteen cousin takes a knife and cuts the creature's orange tentacles off at the root. It flails and falls back into the cup of water.

"Deanna, what did you do that for?" I ask shrilly. I take a second to glare at her, then turn back to the cup and will it to start growing. The creature has to grow roots and sprout before it can swim again.

I keep doing this until the sun sets.

Scare Factor: 1/10
Rating: 2/10

08/04/10



I'm driving my dad's old Ford truck, trying to get out of town. I'm not sure if I'm in Ixburg or Quickton, but I'm driving west (along the north road from Ixburg, what) so I can go watch the sunset on a hill. The hill apparently has a car wash, which I'm grateful for, because the interior of the car is soaked in blood. I'm driving on the right-hand side of the car, and the blood from the seat is seeping into my t-shirt. Another truck passes me on the west side, because I can't accelerate fast enough.

At this point, I'm definitely driving down the highway through Quickton. I turn back onto the highway and start driving west. Until suddenly I'm not. I'm walking through the west side of town, my feet crunching over packed white snow. Then, for some reason, I'm walking along on my knees. A woman appears and asks what's wrong, but I don't remember what I told her.

We both notice a smell in the air, some lemony entree that seems to be coming from a building. The woman says that the building is hers, but that I should come in out of the cold. I go inside and notice that the building is Curves, a women's gym.

I look at one of the walls, covered in recipes for low fat foods. I'm reading one for french toast that says to saturate the bread in olive oil. And that's it. A plate appears in front of me and I try it. It tastes like corn syrup, but the bread is soggy.

I turn around and see my martial arts instructor from Halifax. I remember that I had to tell him I wasn't coming to karate class (though he doesn't teach karate...), but the man tells me just to show up and do what I can.

The scene shifts and I'm looking at a room with tall glass pillars and holograms. From a third person POV, I'm watching Neal, Peter, and Diana go through a training exercise. Neal is hanging back, looking nervous (I think I've had this dream before). Diana goes crashing through one of the glass pillars, and is suddenly falling several stories, flailing her arms.

As Neal, I run to the edge of the floor, which has suddenly disappeared. I look for a way to help Diana, but there's nothing. In the next moment, her body is laying on the floor at an odd angle, blood oozing from a wound on her head.

Then we're standing around the body, the floor having repaired itself, but glass still everywhere. We're beginning an investigation. Someone's writing on a notepad, and Peter is calmly explaining the next steps in our investigation.

There's a montage of people in animal costumes, climbing the outside of glass buildings and waving at the people inside.

I wake up and attempt to WILD, but fall asleep immediately.



I'm walking along the service road, watching the train tracks carefully. The train tracks have replaced the highway that runs through town. I plan to jump onto a train going west. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I have enough money for a bus ticket to get back. I don't think I plan on coming back, though.

I'm walking, now, with three other guys who have the same plan. One of them is a guy I knew from high school. We chat amicably, planning, and trying to figure out what kind of container would be easiest to get into. We also discuss our exit, saying that it'll be dark when we get wherever we're going, and that we'll have to jump from the train before we get into town, because the security there is too tight.

There's a train driving along the road with other traffic, getting ready to merge into the train tracks. The train looks just like the one in Inception, but the jagged pattern is a dark yellow. This isn't the train we want.

I imagine jumping onto a lit stretch of concrete, only to have it turn out to be water, covered in ice. I fall into the water, crashing through the ice, and try to get to shore. I have to climb over thin ice, though -

I snap back into the present. We get ice cream from a vendor, and I'm trying to find a bathroom before we leave. I spot the train in the distance, though, and all four of us are running for the train tracks.

Waiting for a Train. Scare Factor: 4.

Behold, my massive HvZ/Star Wars/Fable/White Collar/Inception/Supernatural/Good Omens crossover dream. Includes characters from Inception, but no spoilers.

08/01/10

My brother and I are sneaking into our cousins' house, playing a game of what amounts to Humans vs. Zombies, but with more humans trying to "kill" each other.

My aunt catches us in the house. Her face is red and she attempts to loom over us threateningly. "You're trespassing, you know."

"I don't think that's against the rules." Ben says, considering.

"But we are sorry. Truly, sincerely sorry," I lie. "Really. We should go."

***



I look around. I'm in a mountainous region surrounded by pillars of ice and concrete bunkers. I'm close to the top of a mountain, on a snowy path.

I pull out my phone and look at it. If Hazel's speed dial "8", I could probably reach my brother the same way. I press "1".

The line picks up.

"Hey, Ben. What the hell happened to you?"

"Kkkshhk...separated...zombies...meet up...later."

The line goes dead.

I shrug, knowing that Ben can take care of himself. I look out over the snowy plains, at once clouded and sunny. It looks like a video game environment. Paths leading to certain places, all of the corners rounded and indistinct... If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was on Hoth.

"Hands in the air," says a voice, crackling and metallic.

I turn around slowly, pasting a smile onto my face.

***



Leaning against the concrete wall of the control room, I remain nonchalant as two of the guards keep their weapons trained on me. I was surprised when I realized that they weren't Stormtroopers, and weren't Rebels either. The group that I've let myself be captured by are dark-siders of a different sort, and I haven't yet figured out who they're working for.

The human male in the corner is force sensitive, but not trained. He has short black hair, plain dark clothing, and is probably in his late teens. He's either looking at me with distrust or he's sulking over the pot of cold coffee on the counter. I haven't decided.

The apparent leader is a female Zabrak. Her dark hair is cut in a short bob, and she's going through my personal effects. Finally, she picks up my dual lightsabers in each hand. I shift my weight to my other foot. One of the guards hisses a breath and clutches at his weapon tightly.

"Twitchy, twitchy." I say, eyeing the terrified guard. "Someone could get hurt."

"I'd be careful, Jedi," the leader hisses at me, still holding my lightsabers. "We have you at a disadvantage."

"Do you really?" I ask, amused. I motion with my hand. On the other side of the room, the coffee pours upward into the air, forming an amorphous blob and flying into the face of the sulking teenager. The boy starts to curse, but the woman in front of me barely seems to notice.

"There's very little difference between the Jedi and the Sith."

"You're telling me." I say, "One of those lightsabers is red, you know."

A blood-curdling roar is unleashed from outside. The bunker shakes from its very foundations. Outside in the darkness, I can sense the fury of the beast, aimed at the creatures encroaching on its territory. Us.

"I wonder what happened to the Imperials that built this station." I say quietly, meeting the eyes of the leader.

My dual sabers are in my hands and light up in the next instant, glowing red and blue (and I'm my female Exile character from KOTOR 2). The woman raises her hands. I watch as the blades are folded up into sheets of blunt metal, and look at the woman mournfully.

"You are no fun at all," I say, yanking a pistol from a guard across the room. "Try not to die."

I see a flash of red through the blinding snowstorm. I aim my pistol and shoot three times before it disappears. I hear a roar through the storm, and can barely see the outline of the monster's arms raised into the air before I'm dashing across the arena, dodging the cracks that appear in the ground.

***

"Coffee?" I ask brightly, pushing a cup towards the teenager. He scowls but takes the cup.

"That was a mean trick," he says, "I like coffee."

"No, messing with someone's lightsaber, that's a mean trick." I pause, "The coffee was just funny."

He's still angry, but he seems to be hiding a smile as well.

"Master Kenobi. In my study, you will meet me," says a voice over my comlink.

"Of course, Master Yoda."

Yoda shows me over to a glass case filled with crystals and gemstones. He motions me to look at them. I find myself drawn to a black piece of rock the size of my palm, smooth and glassy, with waves rippling over the surface. I stare at it, intrigued, and look back at Yoda for permission.



He nods.

I feel for the orange piece of Carnelian in my left pocket, reassured when it's still there. Turning my attention back to the shelf, I pick up the rock carefully, touching it only with my fingertips, and turn it to lie flat on my palm.

I breathe in, allowing the power in the stone to ground me. I feel...

"There's a darkness to this," I say, as if I'm in a trance. "It has a history with death, it's beautiful, it feels cool, the temperature, I mean. I can feel it echoing through me... ignacious, born of fire and now... cold, complete, rational -"

"Back on the shelf, you should put it," says Yoda sharply.

I set the rock back on the shelf, drawing a shaky breath. I want to pick up the rock again, feel for the green crystal that I know should be there, break it in two and give the other half to the person who should have it... Stop it, you're supposed to be Obi-Wan.

"See, you do, the power inherent in these crystals." Yoda says, "Yours, one of them will be, should you take on an apprentice."

I smile, leaning against one of the white walls. I'd wondered why the force-sensitive teenager felt so familiar. Amon?

I shake myself. "We have a mission," I say reprovingly, "Are you trying to distract me, Master Yoda?"

"Hmph. Dream of it, I wouldn't."

***





I take on the guise of Neal Caffrey, all smiles and warm handshakes as we bluff our way into Saito's mansion. Ariadne and Scott Summers back me up, along with four men and women in suits that follow us demurely.

Our whole group is surrounded by Saito's bodyguards, and my companions are feeling intimidated, grouping together until they're nearly touching elbows. I pretend not to notice, and focus on the conversation with Saito as he shows us around his mansion.

We stop by the swimming pool. We're more or less openly flirting right now, and I'm drawing on the Neal Caffrey personality in order to distance myself and appear more outgoing. My form is flickering now, male to female and back again, through half a dozen personalities before settling back on Neal. No one seems to notice.

I fall into the water, pleased to feel the shock of cold on my skin. It feels wonderful, and I let myself sigh in pleasure before I force myself to concentrate. I climb the steps up onto the deck, my clothes holding none of the moisture.

Saito is yelling at his guard for jostling me, and apologizes. I tell him not to worry, but that I need to talk to my doctor, as I may have broken one of my ribs. The man points out the change rooms on the other side of the pool.

"Doctor?" I say, holding out an elbow for Ariadne. She looks surprised, but catches herself and nods. She threads her arm through mine and we walk towards the change rooms.

"Doctor?" she hisses.

"It's improv, Ariadne." I say, smiling. "Just go with it."

We round the corner and Ariadne steps away, brushing at her arm. I flirt with her as she touches my temples, exposing the wiring there.

"I need to upload the schematics to your mind," I tell her, "So that I can stay behind while you get Xavier the information."

"And why is it you're staying behind?" She asks, skeptical.

"There's something bigger going on here," I say quietly. "I need to convince Saito I'm on his side. You get the others out, and I'll figure out what's going on."

Ariadne steps back, nodding reluctantly.

I decide to give Cyclops the information, since his visor will work as a direct transference point into his temples. (What?) A quick shock, and he's ready to head back home.

***

"Not so fast," says Saito.

We're standing outside in a courtyard, surrounded by enemies. The DCs in business suits are entirely useless, and for some reason, I have to keep them alive. Guards have automatic weapons trained on us, and I'm practically staring down one of the barrels as I raise my hands slowly, ready to talk my way out of this. Ariadne shoots me a look, clearly worried. Cyclops is ready to start a fight.

Saito is overconfident. I can use that, but I need to get the others away first. I need Yoda and Xavier to owe me a favour, dammit, and that isn't going to happen if I get their people killed.

Bright white light explodes from the far end of the courtyard, and a shockwave knocks the guards to the ground and disarms them. Not limited by human sight, I swing around to face the four pillars of light materializing on the ground before us. One of the pillars is wreathed in red flames that fan outward, scorching the earth around it.

The light coalesces into four human figures, three of them standing in a ring behind their leader.

He is never going to let me live this down.

"Castiel." I greet him, but the angel is already barking orders to the other three, sending them into the fray to grab my people and transport them back to the compound. Ariadne catches my eye as she disappears, and I can see all of the questions written across her face.

Until the only ones left standing are me, Saito, and Castiel. I let my false face fall away, and I turn to say something to Saito.

The dream fades.

Mansions of Silence. Scare Factor: 3.

Looks like Castiel and I are 1:1 for rescues.

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.

07/26/10

I try to WILD. I notice the beginnings of HH, let my fingers twitch and decide I haven't reached SP.

I fall asleep. I'm laying in a bed when I feel someone lie down next to me. I freeze, and pretend to be asleep.

I make an impossible jump onto the roof of a barn.

I'm walking along cold grey tiles of a huge grocery store. If I look around, I'll see water flowing past the high windows, held at bay by degrading technology. I catch a glimpse of myself from the third person. I'm a teenage girl with pixie-like features. My shoulder-length brown hair is pulled back from my face.

I turn a corner, shining my flashlight up and down the aisles.

Since I'm a girl, I'm caught up in a rite of passage that all girls in my post-apocalyptic society go through. It's less a test and more of a sacrifice. If all the girls feed the monster a part of our souls, it'll be less likely to kill us.

My flashlight flickers and goes out.

I squeeze my elbow into my side, reassured by the blade I feel hidden under my jacket.

"Come to me, child," says a voice, rasping hollow through the darkness.

The voice resonates like a song, notes ringing through my mind, weaving a compulsion. I let the song flow over my mind like water, leaving my intentions to lie quietly in the darkness.

I let the flashlight fall from my hand. It clatters to the ground, the sound harsh in the relative silence of the warehouse. The music has reached a quiet hum. The flashlight rolls away.

I feel drowsy as I respond to the tug of the song, shuffling my feet toward the back wall of the building.

In one moment, I'm alone. In the next, the monster has apeared before me, a writhing mass of shadows moving toward me and invading my space. It brings me in, compliant, pulling me to the heart of it.

A distant part of me feels panicked and trapped, but I'm ready for this. In one smooth motion, I'm grabbing my blade and rushing forward, slicing through the monster's fleshy heart. Blood bursts from the wound, spraying everywhere.

I lick my lips, and step back, triumphant. The shadows dissipate, leaving the warehouse with the dim, directionless lighting of a dream. The scene starts to fade.

I'm standing in the produce department, wearing a more comfortable dream form, short-haired and androgynous, no longer covered in blood. The dark-haired man across from me looks annoyed as he holds a hand over his heart, willing the wound to close.

My lips twitch. "You lose again, Amon."

The Test. Scare Factor: 5.

07/24/10

Something about angels that die at the same time as their human mates... I should really stop reading bad fanfiction.

I'm running away from zombies. I want to take to the water, so I steal my uncle's boat and go down the creek.

I need supplies. I find another boat, but apparently it's owned by the still-surviving Mafia. I steal the boat.

Now I'm being chased by thugs sent by the Mafia, as well as zombies. I run into a building, blasting holes through walls and ceilings, trying to make a route to the roof. I realize that I'm dreaming. I try to black out and go to the first location I think of (the apartment in Ixburg). I stop, everything around me faded to grey, and wonder why the hell I'd want to go to Ixburg. I fade back into the dream and keep running.

I make it to the roof. My enemies are right behind me. I jump down onto a white truck, and make a run for it, laughing.

Later. I'm on the road in a camper-trailer. I'm making dinner and doing dishes. Oma wonders if there's not enough protein in the pasta I made.

We're going to see a movie in Moose Jaw (real place, I do not kid). We park the camper and I step out with my cousins. I look at the showtimes, but Despicable Me isn't playing in that theatre anymore. Apparently this is the first day it's not showing. I'm very sad.

The Mafia. Scare Factor: 3.

Notes: I'm writing up an especially epic dream from two days ago, which seems to directly follow up Seven Minutes in Heaven. Basically, Castiel (from Supernatural) gets captured by someone, and I take the opportunity to thoroughly mindfuck Team Free Will.

07/21/10

I try to figure out this teleporting thing. Hazel helps out.



The scene drifts into focus. I'm sitting on the cool, freshly trimmed grass outside the Ixburg Inn. My surroundings are hazy, and I feel half-asleep.

It's one of those late-morning, about to wake up dreams. I dig my fingers into the soft grass and soil. I'm dreaming, I tell myself. I'm lucid.

I stare at the yellow metal siding of the warehouse beyond the fence, trying to remember my lucid goals. I can't remember the first one, so I go down the list until something pops out at me.

#2. Find Hazel.

I feel for my phone in the front left-hand pocket of my jeans. The colours around me start to grey out, and I slowly lower my hand to the ground. I grab fistfuls of grass and breathe deep, watching the sky get brighter and bluer as I calm down. Sunlight beams down from the sky. I'm facing the other direction, toward the back of the motel rooms. There are apple trees beyond the fence.

I slip my hand into my pocket (left-hand, right-hand, there isn't any difference) and pull out my phone. I think I should try this method one more time before I give up on it.

Leaning against the red fence, I mash seven random digits into the keypad (one of them is an "8") and hold the phone to my ear. It rings twice.

"Hello?" says a female voice on the other end.

"Hazel?" I ask. "Are you asleep?"

"Obviously." She seems amused.

I shake my head. I'm still not sure this is really Hazel. "Want to try to meet up?"

"Can you teleport?"

I hesitate.

An impatient noise from her end of the phone, and Hazel is standing in front of me. The chin-length black hair is her dream-avatar's most distinctive feature, and I doubt it's what her hair looks like in real life.

We're standing on the other side of the fence, drifting slowly westward without my knowing. A DC lurks at the periphery of my awareness, and I think it's a childhood friend.

We discuss the best way to get back to her dream. I explain an idea I've been putting together, that instead of opening a portal or a door, I just need to imagine the new setting and drift slowly into it. The danger is in how easily this could trigger a false awakening.

Hazel says she wants to try something. She touches my forehead with two fingers. I fall back onto the tall grass, frozen in place. I can't move, and the scene is fading into black. I'm not worried, though. She starts talking, describing the setting of her dream.

I pop back into existence between one second and the next. I can still hear the words, but they sound like nonsense. I'm surrounded by orange wooden cabinetry, and I think I'm in a basement. The narration starts to describe the exact kind of cupboard exists across from me, and I snap, "Okay! I get it! I'm here!"

I'm sitting down on a bunk bed when Hazel appears again. The dream destabilizes.

I "wake up".

I'm in the basement of a church, or maybe my late grandma's house (she was a minister). I'm trying to find a bible, because the narrator has apparently been quoting bible verses at me.

I'm flipping through the book, but I don't remember the order. "Where was Ecclesiastes, again?

"Near the end," says Grandma.

I mutter something about having had these memorized at one point.

The dream ends.

I'm the commander of a fleet of ships, taking shelter in an empty harbour. A woman with long, blonde curly hair stands beside me, asking about the clouds on the horizon.

"Those are pure ozone," I tell her. "They're poisonous, but they won't come up onto the coast."

"I wish we could go out to them," she says wistfully.

Looking at the swirling mass of dark clouds, I almost agree with her.

Hazel. Scare Factor: 3.

Haaaazel, you're being all mysterious and otherworldly. Stop it.

Also: Facebook, guys? Really?

07/10/10

I'm an employee at a convenience store or pharmacy. I have to restock the book section; there are fewer books on the shelves every time I look back at them.

I grab a box from the back and open it up in the comics aisle. It occurs to me that I have no idea what went where, or even which books were out here to begin with. Rather than call my boss over such a trivial matter, I happily start arranging my own favorites on the shelf.

Oddly, the comic books seem to be about 15x15 inches across, and the shelves are sized to fit them. Even in the dream, I think this seems a little off.

Later, I find out that Quickton has enacted a new law: hair colour has been declared illegal. I immediately dye my hair blue.

---

I'm at a lake. A girl dares me to swim under the dock and pick up a pebble she just dropped in. I jump into the water. Beneath the surface, it's perfectly clear, and I look around, exploring the caves and crevices that make up this underwater world. Finally, I grab the odd-coloured stone - it's pink or purple - and head back to the surface.

Standing with a group of people in the woods, I watch Dumbledore give a speech about a competition that's going to happen. It's similar to the Triwizard Tournament from the fourth book, but more people are involved. Each of the houses gets representation, and there are a whole bunch of different areas - including chess tournaments - that not everyone will be competing in. Furthermore, you can be selected to represent a house that you're not a part of.

I'm Harry Potter, and obviously, I'm in Gryffindor. I already know how the rest of the dream is going to turn out, though; I'm going to be chosen for Slytherin. There's no other possible outcome.

I observe Hermione freaking out over something, but I'm feeling very calm and cold, and so I leave her be. I'm much more interested in the competition.

Later, as myself, I talk to a family friend at the campground I spent most of my summers in. It's windy, and she's worried about their tents flying away. I tell her that the storm is about to get a lot worse. I know this because I'm from the future.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"As long as I don't step on any butterflies."

Butterflies. Scare Factor: 1.

ETA: I took this as a sign that I should die my hair blue today. So I did.

With my DCs on a probationary driving period, it's up to me to play chauffeur. Also, black cats and an upcoming apocalypse.



I'm watching a horror movie unfurl through its main character. In this dream, I'm a lonely, middle-aged man who lives in a run-down apartment in the north end of Halifax. I'm taking out the garbage, first thing in the morning, reflecting on the fact that I actually feel happy, for once. I just spent the night with a woman who I really like, and it looks as if the relationship might last.

I feel my heart sink when I step outside. The alley is swarming with black cats. I can communicate with a few of them, and they have nothing but bad news about the supernatural elements moving around town.

And that's all I remember.

***

I'm standing on a rooftop in downtown Halifax, chatting with some of the people who are starting school this year. We talk about the dilapidated, ugly buildings that are most of the school buildings. I say that I actually like them; they're fun to take photographs of.

Some of the buildings, I'm pretty sure I explored in previous dreams. One of them is practically abandoned, and you can scavenge a lot of material from the place, if you're looking for it.

I offer a girl a ride home, and we drive through (rather confusing) one ways without much incident. The roads are practically empty. Our path continues into a parking garage and up a flight of steps, and I have to shake my head at the absurdity. I reverse, and pull back onto the road. Then I start wondering about the unisex bathrooms in the building, and how great it would be if they were everywhere.

***

I'm at the Ixburg swimming pool, swimming away. We have to vacate the pool, though, to make room for the shrimp.

Oh, now there's piles of pineapple and shrimp in the pool. I pick up one of the shrimp and eat it raw, not finding anything strange about this, even though I'm a vegetarian. One of my friends looks at me in horror.

I wander over to talk to the Corrupt Corporate Executive by the lifeguard station, a woman who is obviously planning something evil. I ask her what's going on, and she candidly tells me that they're trying to bring about the apocalypse.

"Oh, well," I say, rolling my eyes. "That's all right, then."

She explains that there's actually eight or nine horsemen of the apocalypse, and how the devil, as our culture knows him, is actually one of them. She gestures at a guy with bright red skin and a scraggly beard, with insects crawling all over him.

"Is that pestilence?" I ask, looking over at him.

"No, that's the devil."

"That's not Lucifer." I say incredulously.

The woman explains that there are several entities in the known universe who have collectively been referred to as "the devil". The mythology just has us all mixed up.

"So, if I decide to kill you all, I won't be inadvertently committing suicide?"

"Not at all," the woman replies with a smile.

"Okay..." I say awkwardly. "Good to know."

Scare Factor: 3.