Dream 1 - Task of the Year 2021 - Task 1
The visuals started blurred. Wasn't sure where I was, only that I was in conversation with my brothers. We were reminiscing on old video games. I 'daydream' about one such game, the scene a highway ramp overlooking a bay during dusk. Inexplicably, I'm sent stumbling into this vision, and run down an incline.
Soon, I find myself in my exercise route, hurrying east during late dusk. My breath gives out much too quickly. I'm left so fatigued, I fall supine between a complex's entrance. Several people and vehicles pass dangerously close by.
After catching my breath, I clamber up, and struggle to jog. My pacing improves to a run, then a full sprint. Suddenly, I fall straight down a steep, unexpected incline, and into tunnel-like depths. I lost my footing, but found I could hover at increasing speeds. Navigating these dizzying depths made me realize the dream.
The scenery collapsed into a dark, foggy void. I concentrated to maintain calm. Once I felt sufficiently free of doubt, I thought of taking on the TOTY. I called out to the dreamscape in which I was floating. "Alright, dream.", I intone. "Tell me my superhero name. Even though I'm sure it'll be FireFlyMan (my old username here)..."
Some time later, the dream responded with a flurry of spectral voices. One I could distinguish as my niece yelling 'Tio!'. A high-toned male voice called out 'Thaddeus'. Another shouted 'John'. Many other voices uttered even more common names.
This, obviously, was unsatisfactory. "C'mon, I need a superhero name.", I grumble.
And then, a deep, menacing voice speaks. "You know who you are", booms the unknown figure. "You. Are. FireFlyMan."
I sigh in relief. "Thank you."
Now, I needed an outfit. I look at my person, a faint blue light reflecting on my skin, and see I'm still in my bed clothes. "Okay, dream. Gimme a costume." I look at my right arm, glance away, and look again. Nothing has changed. I repeat this again and again for over a minute. Zilch. This was getting annoying.
At the peak of my frustration, the voice returns, intoning with dramatic pauses. "And he arrives, in a chopper."
I suddenly found myself on the seat of a large motorcycle in motion. It was a kind of Harley-Davidson, or perhaps a knock-off. No idea on the model, exactly (I've no strong inclinations towards bikes); it just seemed the stereotypical heavy bike with glossy black body and chrome framework.
"Okay, I could work with this.", I muttered with a shrug. "Now, about my gear..."
The voice calls out again. "He's dressed, in leather."
I look down, and find myself wearing black baggy leather pants, brown leather chaps, and cowboy boots, the latter two complete with tassels. Above the waist, I wore only a leather vest. This discount Village People cowboy/biker get-up... yeah, it wasn't for me.
"Er... I was thinking of something more... professional? How about a tour...?"
"A black leather touring suit.", the voice interjects.
Now, I was indeed wearing a vintage black touring suit, the jacket including two large pockets. This also came with black combat boots, and a pair of leather gloves of similar color. It all fit comfortably, and the jacket really looked snazzy.
Still, I felt something was missing. "Hey, how about some protection?"
I immediately given a wide hard shoulder/chest pad covered with metal studs. It looked too flashy for my tastes.
"How about something more practical?"
Now, my armor was replaced with a much plainer looking kevlar torso protector, the chest and back piece strapped at the shoulder and waist. Attached to it was a set of decorative metal plate pauldrons of reasonable size. Wasn't really a matching set, but oh well.
The voice booms down yet again. "...a face-concealing motorcycle helmet." And I was instantly wearing as much.
"A skull helmet.", I demanded. My vision discorporates and scrolls out. Below, I could see print covering much of the helmet, an image of a cracked, jawless skull, its teeth (where it wasn't missing) jagged, and a single glowing eye on one of the sockets. Nice. "Oh, and can you make the visor bigger?" The headgear's visor widened on command. Very nice.
Looked like a success to me. I restore my vision, then decided to just enjoy the ride.
A minute later, the dream voice bellows unexpectedly. "And he comes equipped with a knight's lance..."
Suddenly, a green lance is couched under my right arm. "That's actually... kinda cool.", I blurt out.
"...and a combat knife....", the voice continues.
Now, I find said knife in a sheath strapped on my left arm. "Okay, we'll worry about weapons and powers next time...", I mutter.
"...and a lighting [sic] baton." Such an illuminated object was thrown ahead of me. Instead of having a glowing head, this metallic baton had a bunch of lightstrips lining its body.
" ...I guess that would come in handy..."
"...and a hot chick.", the voice roars, accompanied by the sound of a rumbling flame and a low explosion.
"...huh?"
I turn around, and realize that there was indeed a hackneyed svelte blonde clung onto me. She was wearing a blue mesh dress, a bikini of similar color flagrantly visible beneath. Much of her hair was tucked away in a light blue sunhat, and her indifferent eyes were covered with shades.
I fought hard not to laugh. "...going overboard, don't you think?"
Ahead, the void merged into a more inviting scenery: a sunny beach. I sensed a lengthy adventure awaited me. Too lengthy, I feared. I decided to quit while I was ahead, lest I lose any memory of this experience. I make a hard sideways skid on the sands. Soon, the dream collapsed.
Scrap Group 1
Navigating a series of scaffolding high above in a clear dawn sky. Various family members, both close and distant, were seated around, including my siblings, and two of my cousins. They were chit-chatting on recent events. I float around cross-legged. I almost got aware, when the others distracted me by claiming it was 4PM. I bemoaned having been asleep for over 16hours. They also I 'reminded' me of an incident at a beach, where I got in a fistfight with some light skinned guy with spiky black hair. Flash back to me running in a wilderness trail near the beach. I stop to stretch my arms, when, without warning, a bike rider passed by me from behind, almost colliding with me. It was that aforementioned jerk. When I returned to the beach, that guy confronted me. He accused me of trying to hit him earlier. I argued that not only was this just a near-accident, but that by not signaling me, he was responsible. He got unreasonably irate. Cue him starting the fight. We were pulled apart before things could get out of hand. Cut back to me running in the trail. I trip, and fall hand-first on a grapefruit-sized ball of semi-dried dog crap. Infuriated, I chuck it at a road median visible beyond a row of trees.
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