All DJ Entries

I'm in water, dog-paddling, and it's dark. Someone lifts up the lid, and I shrink back from the light. He doesn't see me, but he puts down the blade of the propeller inches from my head, and I curse. I swim around the boat and climb on, quickly dispatching the three guards with strikes to their temples. I go about tying them up with the single length of rope I have, using slip-knots. I look for my allies in the other boats.

Something goes wrong, and I'm captured. I'm tied up, but slip free of the rope almost immediately. They take me to their leader, who looks suspiciously similar to me.

I'm with a class of young people, led by a teacher who might be from a university or college. We're shovelling rocks over the cracks in a hollow, rocky hill. The hill is shuddering as the monsters inside ram themselves against the rock, trying to break through and kill us all. We avoid these spots, trying not to antagonize them as we bury them alive. There have been attacks lately; we're trying to strengthen our defenses.

We finish that edge and go around the corner. The wall is missing. Our group freezes, coming face to face with dozens of the creatures.

They look like penguins. Misshapen, evil penguins with claws and teeth, but still. They're kind of comical, but they're still trying to eat us.

Most of the group takes off at a sprint. I hang back, along with one other student, for the first charge. Two of the little monsters come straight at me. I swing the shovel at one, knocking it away. I pull my weapon back, swing it through the second one until the shovel hits sand, impaling the penguin on the blade edge.

We've given the others some time to escape, and we take off before the rest can charge. I run fast, catching up to the others and greying my vision at the edges, when it finally clicks. I'm being chased by mutant penguins. I turn around, blasting our pursuers with telekinetic energy, scattering them into the lake/ocean behind their hills.

I've still got to find Walms, but I'm not trusting my abilities with portals lately, so I try to find one that's already active. I walk right past what might be a stargate, and look out through the windows built into the walls of the hill building I'm in.

When I look back, I see Marge Cartwright and her youngest daughter, sitting in chairs that have appeared around the room. Cartwright's eldest was in my graduating class. I say something to the effect of "Another Other Mother?" and claw my way out through the plastic-covered window.

I try to imagine a great fall out of the window, so I can get into another setting, maybe a skyscraper, but I fall four feet into the sand and land hard. I can feel the impact. Ow. I keep exploring the dream-setting.

I escape from a prison using a tazer and a group of accomplices, pick a car in the parking lot and drive it through an iron fence, and have to drive it away with an invisible hand because it won't take much more damage. While we wait for the car to get repaired, I explore an underground fairy hutch and almost get trapped inside.

Penguins. Scare Factor: 3.[/QUOTE]

My team saves a little girl's life while we steal something from her father.

I'm cycling away from Vancouver, eastwards. There are people shuffling down the road on foot, heading into the city. One of them makes a grab at my bike, and I punch him, knocking him over. A few people pass me, on bikes themselves, and an older woman tells me I shouldn't hesitate to take them out if they try to grab me. A skinny bald man further up the road is moving into my path, and I hold out an arm to clothesline him, but he stumbles away at the last second.

People are still shuffling around, but they're a little more zombie-like now. Two people are holed up in a lab, a guy with shoulder-length black hair wearing a leather jacket, and the main character from Zombieland. We have a few frantic fight scenes. I end up throwing hard punches at the zombies and wishing I had a shotgun, but punching them tends to stun them for a few seconds, so that's something. A zombie with tangled curly hair, a bigger guy, rushes us, and I accidentally tear off the bandages covering his mouth. He tries to bite me, and I swing a computer moniter into his head repeatedly, until he stops twitching.

We have to get something from the control room, so I'm rappelling down a wide chute, in circles around the wires coming from the centre. I realize too late that going in circles means that I have less rope, and I'm several metres from the ground when I run out. Climbing out the vertical hole, about twenty metres, would be practically impossible, so I untangle myself from the harness and drop to the floor. I land easily. I see a flash of what's on the other side of the exit, a conveyor belt leading to the zombie from before.

I hurtle out of the chute at full speed, launching myself at the zombie and aiming a punch at his jaw. My punch barely connects, and I realize too late that it's too weak to do anything. The zombie looks at me, and I've used up all my momentum; I panic. I push back at the zombie, telekinetically blasting it into the wall, splattering its brains over the metallic surface.

Abruptly, I realize that I'm dreaming, and I walk to the control room, throwing zombies through the walls as they try to approach. I'm having so much fun, and the remaining zombies scatter like leaves, though their landings are bloodier. I reach my destination and find a zombie!GIR and zombie!Yoda standing there waiting for me. They've gotten bigger. I try to toss them away with TK, but the move barely pushes them a few centimetres. The pair stalks menacingly toward me.

I'm lucid, though, and decide this is a complete waste of time. I decide to ignore the pair and go look for Walms. I look away from the bizarre zombies and make for the exit. Zombie!GIR is a green couch bumping up against my leg.

I'm waking up. I try to stabilize, but fail.

New dream. We're survivors in an art gallery IN SPACE while running a pet shop. We find other survivors on earth and establish an alliance. My cousins want to look at the fish.

I have the wrong prescription for contacts and I'm running away from a government conspiracy with my family. Or monsters, maybe. My brother wants to know why this is necessary.

My luggage is too heavy, after I get off the bus, but I find that if I lean a certain way, I start floating along automatically. I run into Milly's mom, Pat Green*, and we go for lunch at a vegetarian cafe.

*From high school. You realize I'm making all these names up, right?

Zombieland. Scare Factor: 3.

I take the stairs two at a time, with Angel right behind me. We reach the top floor of the Ixburg apartment building, rounding the corner so fast I slide a bit. I practically crash into the door at the end of the hallway, and start to pick the lock telekinetically.

Angel stops me with a hand on my wrist. "What if your parents are home? We could be putting them in danger."

A bit of dread creeps into my stomach, and I try to ignore it.

"They haven't lived here for years," I say dismissively. I shake free and flick the door open.

The sound of thunder in the distance. "Quick!" I say, pulling Angel by the arm. I pull him into the apartment and slam the door shut.

My mom and dad are standing in the entrance, looking surprised. My brother is there, and Sam and Dean Winchester are off in the background.

"Mom. Dad." I say, "This is... great."

Silence.

"I want you to meet my boyfriend!" I say, threading my hand through with Angel's. "This is Angel. Angel, this is my mom and dad. Who are really not supposed to be here."

Angel is rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, but at least he's saving the "I told you so" moment for later. Ben, my brother, looks completely shocked, and the other Sam's face is melting.

In fact, everyone's faces seem to be shifting at random. Angel briefly flickers into Dexter, who flickers into... some random person I don't know, and Dean's not nearly as pretty as he usually is. Ben's someone completely unrecognizable, and I push through my parents into my room, waiting for the dream to stabilize.

I'm trying to figure out how to fit both a desk and a double-sized bed into my childhood bedroom when Angel walks in. He's looking somewhat normal again. At this point, we decide, we have to stay here. The Wild Hunt will tear their way through my family whether we're here or not, so we might as well stay to protect them.

I'm having a shower when, through the window, I see a group of my brother's friends running over the lawn. Apparently I'm in the basement. I run outside, fully clothed, and look back at the building I was just in. It's an approximation of my parents' duplex, though it's currently worn down and the entire back yard is yellow and covered in weeds and vines.

I spot the group running through the back yard and I give chase, catching up and tackling the one that's supposed to be Ben. I pin him to the ground, yelling that this is a dream, and the rest of the group stands to the side, eerily still.

"Could you give us a minute?" I say, hauling my brother to his feet. "I have some questions for my brother."

I'm pretty sure this DC isn't my brother, but rather an impostor sent by Mab.

And apparently I was right, because a second later, the group of teenagers shift into unearthly horsemen and hellhounds. Mab herself appears from nowhere, wearing red and riding a horse that just might be an animated skeleton.

Mab demands my surrender. I decline.

Half a dozen faeries rush me at once. I hit the first two with a rush of pure kinetic energy, liquefying their organs and taking them out of the fight. I disarm number three and stab him in the gut with his own green dagger, letting the body drop to the ground as I pull the weapon free and look to my next opponent.

And I see, again, a trail of bright blue energy following my movements, latching onto the Fae and pulling their energy toward me. One of the fairies' power is surprisingly in tune with my own, and I hear a voice telling me to use it.

At first, I think it means the dagger, but as I focus on the energy I'd just absorbed, I realize that this isn't the power of a foot soldier. This is bigger, and I feel myself drop away from the dream, ascending higher and higher until I can see all of the stars and the Queen of the Wild Hunt is just a speck I can only barely see, and I suddenly understand why she thinks so little of those around her, because everything is so small...

When I come to awareness, Angel is next to my bed.

I groan, shielding my eyes from the light pouring in the window. "Some help you were." I grumble.

He snorts. "While you and Mab were unconscious, most of the Fae just wanted to chop off your head and be done with it. I had a hell of a time getting you out of there alive."

"I woulda been fine."

"Right." He looks dubious. "And the Dreaming?"

I look up, pulling myself into a sitting position. "This is a dream, that was a dream." I sigh, "When I wake up, I'll be reality checking all day."

The Hunt. Scare Factor: 3.5. Low-level lucidity[/QUOTE]

I'm having multiple writing-things-down-in-my-journal dreams (in one night), which is really annoying when I actually wake up and find it blank. Occasionally I can remember bits and pieces of what I wrote, but still: irritating. Apparently I'm going to have to RC more while I'm journalling.

In one of my fragments, Neil Gaiman was trying to take over the world. Apparently he's on Time Magazine's Most Influential People list, so this wouldn't be too surprising. Oh, and he's capable of adding to historical mythology.

Be afraid.

The Heist:

I'm robbing an art gallery. This is the easy part, casing the place, looking for details that might assist us in our escape. It's near closing time, and we need to know exactly how the staff shuts the place down - so we're posing as tourists, waiting to be shuffled out of the building.

The place is huge, large enough to have their own conservator on staff, a woman that I'm talking to right now. I'm pretending to be a collector, probably talking about donating a piece to the public collection. We're discussing the minutiae of restoring a particular piece, a thirteenth-century painting that I actually have no interest in (ie: we're not stealing it).

"Where are the security cameras?" I ask her. After all, I want my donation to be safe. I've spotted one camera in the entrance lobby, but none in the main areas or at the employee exits.

"Oh," says the woman, "We don't have any."

I look at her blankly for a second. "Well," I say, "That's stupid."

I look over the woman's shoulder at Johanna, the blonde ghost girl from #59, Ghost Ship. My accomplice is decidedly un-ghostly today. She's with a tour group, examining the high-tech vault that our prize is locked in. The metallic display swivels around, forms a coffin-like shape, and seals itself away, fitting like a puzzle into the tile floor. The rest of the group applauds enthusiastically, but Jo limits herself to a small smile, eyes glittering with anticipation of the challenge.


Jayne Wisener Johanna

I signal Johanna and say goodbye to the conservator. We shake hands and she tells me to contact her if I have any questions. I assure her that I will, and I slip away into the back hallways of the art gallery, off limits to the public.

Jo meets me at our planned escape route, one of the employee exits that requires a code to leave without setting off the alarm. I notice the visible red laser line over the floor, which could be stepped over easily, but the door is alarmed as well. I hear a voice over the intercom, saying that the museum will be closing in a few minutes.

There's a keypad beside me. I enter the code, which I gleaned from the mind of the conservator when I shook her hand. This is why Jo and I work together well: I get the information and she steals the priceless artifact. We split the danger and the cut. And I do my job well - the outer door swings open, and the alarm switches off.

"All guests have two minutes to exit the building," says the intercom. Jo and I grin at each other and step out into the alley. We pile into a small green car with a few other girls. This was our test run. We'll come back tomorrow night and pull the real heist.

We've stopped at a hostel/diner/convenience store. While waiting in line, I'm looking through the racks for a pair of sunglasses that don't make me look like a girl. Everything's sold out though, and apparently I already bought the last pair of sunglasses, which are either broken or missing.

DCs have been telling me, for the last few minutes, that I'm late for the Evil Meeting of Evil. This is, apparently, not a good thing, as the meeting is headed by one of the organization's scariest members. I remember being appropriately terrified earlier in the dream, but now, semi-aware, I can't see why I should be afraid of a DC. When I step outside, I see minions of the League on rows of fold out chairs, under a bright blue sky. Odd.

The terrifying speaker is a black woman with straight, shoulder length black hair, who bears a remarkable similarity to Zoe from Firefly. This, of course, means she's a badass character who I should probably Run Away From Really Fast, but instead I pretty much ignore her as she yells at me and tells me to sit down.

Not!Zoe continues her pep-talk, and I wander back into the building, finding myself in a hostel-style dorm room filled with bunk beds.

The first person I notice is a Legion-style, long-limbed teenager. I'm fascinated by how tall he is, and by the way he's swinging from what are effectively monkey-bars suspended by the bunk-beds. Apparently, the boy can't support his own weight. He stumbles into the diner/convenience store area, and his mom snaps at me not to stare.


What are you looking at?

I turn around, and suddenly there's a high speed bundle of white lace crashing into my arms. I catch the little girl as she throws her arms around me, demanding a hug from a complete stranger. I stand there awkwardly, regaining my balance.

The mom rolls her eyes when I look at her, and tells me that the girl used to suffer extreme pain when anyone touched her. Now she's cured. Okay...

I leave the strange family behind and go back outside to deal with my fellow villains. Who want me to become Doctor Insano. I tell them that I really would (I have my lab coat on and everything), but I can't find my swirly goggles - I only have a set of pink ski goggles, and those just aren't the same.


So yeah.

Johanna and I are back in the art gallery, along with another girl, Macy, who's actually outside. Macy was with us in the getaway car, and she's possessing her pet cat (her spirit animal) so we can have another set of eyes on the inside. The cat is darting through the gallery's hidden places, under tables and behind exhibits, practically invisible unless you know what you're looking for. Jo and I are about to split up, while I keep the entrances clear, when we're interrupted by the most ominous sound I have ever heard.

"KITTY!" shrieks a delighted, childlike voice. This is followed by a chilling snarl from Macy's cat.

I turn around to see that the cat is a charred pile of fur and skin on the floor, and the little girl from before looks absolutely stricken. I look upward and sigh, knowing that we won't have a chance at the painting at this point.

I'm waving at the little body, willing it up from the floor, and slowly toward the side door. At the same time, Jo and I are having a heated discussion over who gets to take care of the girl without making a scene. More so than the fireball and the crying child already have, anyway.

"Me?" I ask incredulously, "I'm not a Meta!" (I don't have superpowers.)

Jo sends a significant glance at the cat magically floating out the door, and looks back at me with a raised eyebrow.

Well, I can't argue with that.

I go over to the little girl and ask if she remembers me. She nods her head and I hold out my hand, and we all go outside.

Jo is over with Macy, who's a sobbing wreck on the ground, leaning against one of the tires of the car. She's looking at her cat, lying on the dirt a few feet away from her. Apparently, her experience was slightly traumatizing.

I lead the girl over to the cat, and kneel down beside it. I give a heartwarming speech involving the importance of responsibility and compassion, and tell her how important it is that we keep our powers under control. Then, waving a hand over the cat, I tug at it's life energy, and the cat gets up and wanders over to Macy.

"There," I say, getting up and dusting myself off. "No harm done."

An alarm starts to blare from within the gallery.

"Son of a bitch!"

All of us pile into the backseat of the car, which is suddenly filled with half a dozen girls, and we speed away.

The Heist. Scare Factor: 3.

I'm wandering around Quickton. There might be some kind of business convention going on. I temporarily will a giant tower into existence over the highway, to defend/attack something.

My old high school. There are teachers and students milling about in the hallway, and I'm standing outside near one of the entrances. I'm hooking fingers and toes into the brick of an inside corner, climbing onto the roof. At one point, I'm near horizontal, and climbing in dreams is so much fun.

Apparently there are some parkour and climbing classes going on in June (in the dream). I want to sign up, but there are people trying to kill me, and I'm trying to lay low.

Climbing Classes. Scare Factor: 1.[/QUOTE]

I feel a steady pull somewhere, like I'm being summoned. Images of an immense stone cavern, alive with a bright blue energy.

I seem to be on a road trip with my family. We get mixed up with the local vampires, and I have half of the population out to kill me. I'm standing in a hotel room with off-white walls and a duvet on the bed, talking to a woman with short blonde hair. She's an important figure to the vampires, and she's giving me information that might help me survive. We're planning something.

Memory of a red metal door and what might be a gymnasium. Being chased by the vampires, slamming the door into the face/arm of one of them as I run outside. It's daylight, but I'm not sure if that bothers them. Outside a brick building, patches of green grass growing weed-like in the gravel.

Space dream. Mentions of Kyle Katarn. I'm in a ship, dark metal interior. A DC thinks he's intimidating, but I don't feel the least bit threatened. Semi-lucid, I'm thinking about writing things down later. Sex dream.

Weird FA. I still feel half-stuck in the dreamworld, but not immersed in it. I think about waiting at the Twin Towers that Walms mentioned as a possible meeting place, pull up an image of what used to be there. I'm standing on top of the north tower, beside the antenna. I think about the Task of the Month, jumping off a skyscraper. I watch my dream avatar jump from the building and land on her feet, as if I'm watching a video clip. The scale is all wrong; the DA is too tall in comparison to the building beside her.

I'm Neal Caffrey from White Collar, helping to catch people. The dream-plot is nonsensical, and my surroundings are wavy coloured lines over white. I talk to Peter Burke about the people we caught by running into them with more wavy coloured lines that might have been a car.

"OMFG A CAT!" I shout, pointing. A cat walks along the driveway. I have no idea what context could turn this into a momentous event. Maybe all the animals are dead?

A CAT! Scare Factor: 3.

Fragments: Snape writing a letter to Voldemort about how annoying Harry is, and how Voldemort probably should have chosen Neville as his arch-nemesis if he actually wanted to win.

Walking through a pathway in a zoo that is filled with snakes. I name cottonmouths, rattlesnakes, and coral snakes, which I peer at carefully, trying to decide if red touches yellow. I refuse to walk down the path while barefoot, because I like snakes, but I don't particularly want to die, thanks.

Running into Vicki from boxing; apparently she lives on the top floor of what might be my apartment building. It's an open dorm, so I recognize her while walking through, and consider waking her up. Or would that be creepy? She wakes up anyway.

End Fragments.

Alternate Squamish. I'm watching video footage from a couple years ago, when apparently the downtown was flooded with green and black clouds of swarming... things.

I'm walking through back alleys and crab-walking (crawling) over gravel, for some reason. I look over a fence and see two-police officers disappearing around a corner. Deja vu. I've been at this fence before. I think I had trouble climbing it, since the fall down one side seems so steep. I try the sequence again, jumping over multiple fences through a back yard. One is a metal railing that seems too tall, and I climb over it, disappointed at the interruption.

I get to the other side, and a woman interrupts. She asks if I have an appointment. I remember that I do. I follow the woman into the building and slip off my shoes. There are change rooms. I think I'm the main character from #59: Ghost Ship, Jade. I follow the person who I have an appointment with. She's a really hot girl whose strawberry-blonde hair is tied up into a ponytail. A few strands fall attractively over her face. We've met before. Apparently she's painting my nails? I'm calling her Elle.

When we walk outside, I'm wearing a spa-like fluffy housecoat. Elle has her hands on my shoulders, pushing me gently through the door. I look around, amazed. One of the mountains extends over this part of the town. The stone is made out of a glassy black rock, like obsidian or onyx. Water falls in torrents into the ocean around the peninsula, surrounding the area with a fine white mist. Behind me is an eastern style wooden building, complemented by the sleek metal and glass railings running around the deck.

I follow Elle over pathways leading back and away from the ocean. Everything is sunny and the effect is much less impressive. We go to sit down at a picnic table.

My character falls asleep on a bed inside the building.

Cut to a group of people back at the picnic table area, randomly deciding that my character is a werewolf, and she needs to die.

The real me is listening in, sitting a table away and reading a book. The book is describing everything that's happening. I have to wonder why I'm only identifying with the parts written in first person (Jade's part), rather than the parts written in third person that have Elle in them. I concentrate on reading the book and getting back into the story.

I wake up, back in the building, as Jade. I'm highly annoyed by the inevitable running that's about to occur.

Nail Polish. Scare Factor: 2.

I think this dream means I have a crush on my hairdresser.

I'm Dean Winchester (again), and we're on a hunt. We have to go through Lady Gaga videos frame by frame. Apparently there's a reason for the scene in "Bad Romance" where she's crying.

Also, I had the song stuck on a loop in my head after waking up. Ugh.

Lady Gaga. Scare Factor: 10!

Okay, 2. Scare Factor: 2.

I'm river rafting with a group on the backs of whales/fish/squid/leeches. The creatures swim down the river with one side of their bodies facing up, which turns from pink to silver in the sunlight. They turn over after a while, so we have to stay on top of them.

My creature is about to turn over, so I jump onto the shore and let it. I throw one smaller creature back into the river where it got caught somewhere. I watch a kid's creature turn over and throw him into the water. He comes up on the other side, laughing.

I'm back in the water, swimming on my own. I'm wearing running shoes, which really limits my swimming ability. We'll be hiking later though, so I can't go barefoot.

An enemy is on the shore, aiming something at our group. I'm swimming through fairly deep water, but I jump up and land a flying kick on the henchmen, knocking the gadget aside. There's another one farther into the forest, and I rush at him -

shift

I'm driving through one of the main intersections in Quickton. The stoplights facing me are blinking orange, the adjacent stoplights are blinking red. I drive through the intersection, thinking about the DC I'm trying to help / is helping me.

I'm biking down one of the pathways near my house. I wonder how I'm going to meet up with her again. On impulse, I pull out a blaster and shoot two Star Wars-esque red laser blasts into the sky. I consider that we should have used that as a signal. I shoot a couple more just to see what the range of visibility is.

The signal starts coming up elsewhere in the city. Sirens go off. Uh oh. I stow my blaster under my jacket (it's too long to sling across my back; the barrel pokes up under my collar) and quickly pedal home. I do have to wonder how video game characters manage this.

I end up in an oh so messed up version of my backyard. I'm setting my bike against a fence and am about to haul it over into my half of the back yard (it's a duplex), when, for no apparent reason, I realize that I'm dreaming.

I don't see a reason not to leave the bike where it is. I decide to play along with the dream and get rid of the gun, so I walk into the garden shed and hold the blaster up along the wooden wall. The wall folds out and clamps onto the gun, and when it folds back you wouldn't even know that we were stockpiling an armory. Then I stare at the inside of the shed for a moment, marvelling at the detail and how real this all seems. I can feel my body, the scratch of the jean jacket I'm wearing, my feet on the ground.

I shake myself out of it. I had plans for a lucid, right? I was going to... meet Walms. Right. Now, how am I supposed to get there?

Stepping out into the bright sunlight, I extend my right hand, intent on peeling through the layers of the dream. Something goes wrong; I can't feel them.

"What are you doing?"

There's a guy my age standing on the lawn in the back yard. Short blond-ish hair. Let's call him Derek (I haven't used that name yet, have I?). He doesn't look much different than I do in dreams. Similar clothing, too.

"You know what?" He says, when I don't answer, "I don't care. See ya."

Derek jumps through a hole in the lawn. It's shimmery, like a puddle, but it doesn't reflect the blue sky above. It reflects a different sky with a setting or rising sun, shot through with pink.

I jump through the puddle.

I hit sand on the other side, startling Derek. "Um, hi." I say.

"I wasn't expecting you to follow me," he admits.

"Yeah, well..." I look around, taking in the view. We're standing on a beach, looking out over a sunset. "Huh. I think I have a [desktop wallpaper] like this."



We spot another puddle in the sand. "You coming?" he asks me.

I nod.

We jump. The other side is more blue-tinged. It's still sandy, but everything is underwater.

"So, you've gotta be looking for something, right?"

I try to answer, but the words come out garbled.

Derek rolls his eyes. "You know this is a dream, right? You wouldn't have been able to follow me otherwise. You can still talk."

I take a breath, feel cool air enter my lungs. Breathe out, breathe in. I try again. "I'm looking for a guy who calls himself 'Walms'".

Derek looks at me, incredulous. "You don't even know where you're meeting him? Jesus. I could take you to a place, but I don't think I can help you find someone you don't even know."

False awakening. I feel the dream fall apart around me, and become aware of my body lying on the bed. There is bright white light everywhere, and I can still feel the remnants of the previous dream around me.

I fade back into the dream. I'm back in the dream-warped backyard, sitting on the lawn. Derek is standing beside me. I swear, if he rolls his eyes any more, they'll stick like that. I go over where I left my bike and lift it over the fence. Derek says something.

[I]Puddles. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: Okay, Mr. Negativity.

I'm Harry Potter, in what's sort of a pre-2005 video game environment. We've shifted into a circular hall in some sort of grand manor - an inheritance from my family. I've been using it as a base, as I'm on the run from a million and one different organizations. The hall runs in a circle, and the inner doors are decorated by massive arches that jut out from the stone walls.

I meet with my friends on the second floor, outlining a plan to get back at our opponents.

I choose Hermione from a list of avatars and I'm jumping around on the landings above the doors.

shift, and I'm at my childhood elementary school, looking up at the big brick building and vaulting over dark blue fences. I know that I'm dreaming. The entranceway is one story tall, an impossible leap. I'm concerned that I won't be able to make it, as I've been having trouble defying gravity lately. However, I call up the will, and effortlessly make the jump onto the roof. When I land, I can still feel the upward momentum. I feel like I should be floating, but I have both feet on the ground.

Back to being Harry, as a child, I talk to a woman who's coming out of a house. The entrance is lit up brightly behind her, and everything is blurry. The house is where a clump of bushes should be. I talk to her, and she invites me in. I think she's Lily.

Zoom out to view a fleet of battleships approaching Earth.

Gravity. Scare Factor: 2.

I'm alone on a ship - all of the crew have succumbed to... something. Another ship is attacking mine, full of spirits. I swing over onto the enemy ship and rescue a girl, who turns out to be another ghost. She's my ally in the dream.

I've had visions throughout the dream of the final battle against my enemy. I've lost every time. Now, the time is really here. My enemy taunts me, tells me that there's no way I can win, but I've seen how he won before and I know I can beat him. I meet his attack with a wave of blue energy that knocks him away and destabilizes the dream.

shift

Human survivors terrorize each other post-apocalypse, forcing their views on the weaker individuals.

A group of survivors in some post-apocalyptic world is trying to establish a prohibition on alcohol. The main character (male, short blond hair) is arguing during a town meeting. This is followed by someone accusing, "It's almost like you don't want it gone!" Well, duh.

The main character is female, now. Long, black hair, looks like a character from one of my stories. She's with the blonde (no longer ghost) girl from the previous dream. They're standing in a run-down shack. Then I show up. My dream avatar is some kind of male mythological figure, with long white hair. A conversation takes place. She's accusing me of something.

I laugh and say, "You're more of a Reaper than I am!"

(Unconsciously stepping back and choosing the weapons: a short, hand held scythe for the MC, a sword for the ex-ghost, and I'm somehow fighting with chains.)

I quickly knock the blonde out of the fight, sending her flying toward the wall. I block their blades with heavy metal chains on the defensive, strike barehanded on the offensive. With ghost-girl out of the fight, I renew my attack on the MC, enjoying what - to me - is a friendly sparring session.

Ghost Ship. Scare Factor: 3. [/QUOTE]

A dream occurs on two levels of reality. In one, the cast and crew of Supernatural go about their daily business of making an awesome TV show. In another, I go about my daily business of building houses. This gets confusing when suddenly I'm Misha Collins, calmly vacuuming up sawdust in the basement while a highly amusing PA briefs me on whatever they're doing next. Also, a suspended ceiling puts itself together in the writer's room and the baseboards I've been staring at for the last few days drift in and out of existence at eye-level.

shift

I'm in a den, or a living room, and I think this was a mall a second ago. Everything is in dark shades of brown and black. I'm sitting on a brown leather couch facing a wide-screen TV, and along the opposite wall is a set of dark-stained table and chairs. Beyond the table is another room, which is completely white. Right now, it might be a kitchen, but it's about to turn into a slaughterhouse.

I have my laptop open on the couch, though I'm not paying much attention to what I'm looking at. I move over to the table when a ten-year-old boy wants to flip through the channels on the TV, looking for his favorite cartoon. When I look back, he's pulling up a page on another laptop, which is a list of his favorite cartoons, put together by his dad. A static image of one of the characters shows up on a projector behind the couch, and I start drawing it.

It's later. A team of vigilantes/ex-minions have found out what's really going into the meat made by this factory. They/we are standing around the owner, backing him into the white room. The boy* is wearing some kind of Kickass-style costume like the others in the room, and is staring at his father with an incredibly detached expression.

*I wouldn't worry about the little sociopath. I get the feeling that the vigilantes are all puppets on a string to him.


Practically the Antichrist.

Two men grab the owner and force him toward the wall. He's shouting at them and struggling to get away, but when his back hits the wall, it latches onto him and forces him down a tube. I drift through the wall, and I can see the human sized plastic tunnel he's trapped in. Pistons are forcing the right side of his body, as he's alive and screaming, against the meat grinder. His right arm, part of his leg, and the edge of his scalp have been torn apart by the machine when I see his expression shift, angry but resigned, and the machine eats into his brain.

He probably wishes he'd designed the machine to kill its victims less horrifically, I muse. A straight-razor, perhaps? The machine rearranges itself on my whim, and I wonder if cutting the throat upside-down or right-side-up would be more effective.

Three women are standing in the same room, which, maybe, is supposed to be a different place entirely? They talk about the dead owner's eldest daughter, who has sworn revenge on us/them for killing her father, his right hand man, his lieutenants, the captain who exported the shipments, the cleaning lady, and possibly me, considering I'm short of a body at the moment. Also, for kidnapping her little brother, who I'm half-sure started the coup anyway.

They laugh a little and say they have to get back to camp, so they jump out of the building and land on the ice of a half-frozen river, and start speeding down it as if they're on a slide. I have to keep nudging them closer to shore so their momentum won't carry them out onto the middle of the river, which is slushy and wouldn't hold their weight.

One person crashes into the slush anyway. No one pays attention, and I have no idea if s/he gets out alive.

The women arrive at a rocky shore where a bunch of colourful tents are set up. No one brought chairs, so someone fetches pillows for the half-frozen trio to sit on, and blankets to keep them warm. I, still incorporeal, follow the guy who gets them and see a whole pile of pillows lying on the ground.

Oh, and someone's getting married.

Soylent Green. Scare Factor: 3.5. Reaction: Lucidity, you escape me. And the meat grinder thing was pretty fucked up, too.

ETA: Oh! I know! I know! It was green, and had a giant lizard's head and sharp teeth that changed direction to spiral inwards and then fan out, and I knew I was dreaming because all of my dreams are just that fucking insane.

I can feel it nudge up against me, feel its scales and warm breath as it bumps its nose against my shoulder, and I'm not afraid because I know this is a dream...

And that's all I remember.

There's a wedding or a funeral in the family, and we (the "kids") are getting ready. I'm in a store, wondering if I dare to wear a tie. I do, deciding on a light blue dress shirt. I go over to the mirror to try it on, but I can't pull it closed over my breasts. Damn it, I think, annoyed, I shouldn't have to deal with this in my own dreams.

I'm in the Ixburg apartment, doing a hand RC. Everything is slightly blurry. It's hard to move. The RC worked, and "I'm lucid," I repeat to myself, "I'm lucid, I'm lucid, I'm lucid." I look in the mirror of my bedroom door, and see a dark grey blob standing where I am. I peer to the side, and the blob doesn't move. I see myself, currently male. I have dark brown hair, longer than it is now. I'm wearing dark clothes, a black dress shirt unbuttoned over a t-shirt. No ties, apparently. Thank God. I see strange things in the background, and open the door before I get freaked out and this turns into a nightmare.

I walk out of the apartment, fighting to stay grounded as everything blurs around me. I keep RCing and muttering that I'm lucid, until I'm halfway down the stairs and looking out of an east-facing window.

The town has transformed itself once again, this time into what looks like a creepy green-tinged matte painting. The entrance to the building, which juts out into the gravel parking lot, is in ruins, and the entire field beyond is covered in water. About fifty yards away are a set of stone steps, leading up to a square stone arch. Someone is hanging from it, arms stretched into either corner, feet hanging above the ground.

At first, I think it's a woman, but the scene shifts into someone I'm pretty convinced is Walms. At this point, Walms is down from the arch, probably having escaped the bonds (or rescued someone else from them). I have to hurry if I want to catch up to him.

I look down at the uneven ground and sigh. I don't suppose this will count as a skyscraper? But no. Maybe I'll do the flower thing later. I throw myself off the building, feel my speed building -

Pause, as I consider where to land.

Full-speed, I crash into the remains of the entrance, numbly feeling my ankle bend at an impossible angle. I stand up, feeling no pain, and head east toward the blurry archway.

There's no one here, unfortunately. I sigh, and look beyond the arch. There's a whole bunch of people milling around on the lawn beyond it, so I consider trying the flower task. I pick up a flowering piece of the clover weed that runs rampant around Ixburg, and scan the area for someone my age - most of the people here are elderly.

I focus on the piece of clover in my hand and it turns into a violet. The colours shift and blur and it becomes a rageddy, fushia thing. The flower shifts into a perfect bunch of green and I concentrate, pulling a pink rose-bud from the centre.

I spot a woman my age exiting the Quickton college. She couldn't be a supermodel, but she has long, blonde hair, and something else draws me to her. I hand her the rose, smiling. "This is for you," I say, and turn away.

"Wait!" she says. She looks like she's about to say something important. "Are you Israel."

I don't know what she means, and I answer honestly. "I don't know." I say, and walk away.

I'm play fighting with a dog, probably a Great Dane. I realize that I'm losing lucidity, so I concentrate and RC and start saying, "I'm lucid."

Everything is blurry as I walk into a building and do a hand RC. I can see all five fingers, but they're all attached between the index and middle knuckles. I see a guard, and -

shift

People are talking about animals in pairs. Apparently, there are two such animals that signify love. What about dogs, I want to ask snidely, but I'm not actually there. Jackson thinks the sign might apply to him, but O-Neill scoffs and starts making fun of him.

shift

FA, I scramble for my dream journal, but there's a bunch of different notebooks beside my bed and I can't find the right one. I'm lying on the bed when I realize that I'm dreaming. I push into the waking world (for the first time) so I don't forget the dream.

Dream Goals. Scare Factor: 2.[/QUOTE]

This is not a lucid dream.

I'm parked in the local Walmart parking lot, waiting for a woman in a grey minivan to back out so I can leave. I look into the car and recognize someone from the forums, who I'd assumed was a guy. I don't remember who I thought she was, but I remember deciding she was a dreamer. She had short hair somehow braided close to her head, and dark skin. I guess she looked a bit like Naiobe from Matrix.

I think about meeting up with Walms, but I'm not lucid; I think all of this is happening in real life. I think I'm meeting him later.

There's a man lying on the pavement in the middle of the parking lot (behind my car). The manager (of Walmart) doesn't know what to do, and ambulance/police are on the way. The man might have raped someone? We decide we need to move him and I lift, hooking my hands under his arms while the (female) manager lifts his legs. We carry him into the lobby and lay him on a bench. The girlfriend is waiting, and he wakes up briefly and says something to her.

Possibly another dream entirely: Walmart bathrooms are converted to sleeping places for $15 a night. Carpeted, the toilets are gone and the stalls are wood. I exit the stall and find red lockers being brought in. I chat with the girl in charge of the program, but decide that I'd really rather leave. Unfortunately, the building's on lockdown until morning. I plot my escape.

After a false awakening I don't remember, I wake up. Probably. I'm dead tired and know I should RC. I flip open the curtain and count five fingers. Then I collapse back into bed and fall asleep.

Fragments. My dad talking about one of our cousins.

Walmart. Scare Factor: 1. Reaction: I think I'm catching a flu bug.

The dream takes place several years (decades?) into the future.

The Library is falling apart in the absence of a Librarian. The Library itself is a vast compendium of past knowledge, mostly accessible through computers. It's a surprisingly busy place, in this future, filled up with mostly young people, but it's dying.

I already know how this is going to end. I slam open the door of my house (the library is inside) and walk out. It's a well lit night, and snow is falling lightly from the sky.

"OKAY!" I shout at the sky, "I'll be your fucking Librarian!" I pause at the flicker of a curtain across the street. Most people would think I'm yelling at God or something, but I'm actually communicating with a highly advanced intelligence that has full control over... never mind.

A question forms somewhere in my mind, asking what it would be like to stay in this one place for years, contrary to everything that I am (a traveller). Stubbornly, I continue to assert that I'll do the damn job if I have to - time is fluid in this place, anyway.

I don't receive an answer.

---

I'm in a location I dreamed about last spring. It's almost identical. The local aquatic centre is fused with a rock climbing gym, which we don't have here in Quickton.

In the dream, I'm wondering why I thought we don't have any rock climbing here, since we so obviously do (we don't).


Map


Colour of the walls

Silence in the Library. Scare Factor: 2.