Things to Run Away From Really Fast

I'm looking out over a seaside city, viewing it from the cliffs above it. In dream, I decide this is Medicine Hat, AB. Which makes no sense. Groups are moving into formations of rows and columns along the ground. Zooming in, I can see marks on the ground showing the spots for certain group members to go.

I step into place.

There are hopscotch-style chalk lines on the ground. An oval makes up the centre ring, divided in the middle. Another, bigger oval goes around it, again with the dividing line in the centre. There are four members of each team, one in the middle and three on the outside. They play something like volleyball with two sets of balls - they have to stay inside the lines and can't land on the ground.

I'm in the middle. We're alternately playing with bouncy balls, tennis balls, water balloons, and bell peppers. The outer group has another set going. Theirs are just smaller than volleyball size. I have to work to ignore the outer set and keep focused on the water balloons and vegetables.

We keep smashing up our water balloons and peppers, so we have to keep tracking more down as the outer team keeps playing. I'm not very good at this game.

Dream Games. Scare Factor: 1. Reaction: Bored.

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

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

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

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

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

shift

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

shift

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

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



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

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

shift

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hop on a bus with a duffel bag and a backpack, headed out to Halifax. I arrive at the hostel. There's a book sale in one of the rooms. I gravitate toward the back corner and recognize the cover for a Sherlock Holmes collection. I open it up, pleasantly surprised to find the book full of illustrations. I head over to another corner by the windows and flip through a few children's books for reference. The illustrations in every book are watercolour and ink or acrylic and ink. They have a grainy, spooky tone to them and some of the watercolour scenes are brilliant. I pick out a few and head to cash.

"You've got two books there?"

I glance down at the pile in my arms. "More than that," I say.

She rolls her eyes. "I'm charging you for five, then. Your total is $4.25."

I hand her a five dollar bill and get three quarters back. Looking at the pile again, I realize that there's actually six books, but one is only a few torn out pages. Fair enough, I decide. I head back to my room to pack.

I'm looking at a shelf full of food and wondering when I found the time to buy all of this. I pack it away (bread goes squish) along with the books. It's a perfect fit, but I'm going to be annoyed travelling with all this luggage.

Chel, a girl who was a grade above me in high school, arrives as I'm leaving. We have an excited conversation involving the odds of meeting up on the other side of the country.

I decide to stop in Quickton before heading to Vancouver. For a break in a long goddamn bus ride, if nothing else. The bus station by the Westin is suddenly a part of Ixburg.

***

In Quickton, grocery shopping. Sprained left leg, hobbling along, wondering where my crutches went. I limp along on my left ankle after I get tired of hopping. It hurts, but it could be worse. I talk to my late grandma.

***

Still in Quickton, I'm on trial as a witch. The woman accusing me is a made up character who, apparently, went to high school with me. I spend most of the trial resisting the urge to burn her alive via dream-powers. Apparently that wouldn't help my case much.

I'm defending myself; no lawyers allowed. I catch the woman in the middle of a lie and ruthlessly pounce on it, drawing out answers that prove she wasn't where she said she was. Something about flowers that are yellow and in a pot. Daisies, probably.

I'm not sure if my argument's had any effect on the jury yet, so when the Judge asks me about the green lightsaber they have in custody, I immediately reply, "My lightsabers aren't green." I consider summoning my dual sabers to the courtroom, but again, supernatural powers are not what anyone needs to see right now.

I go into a tangent, wondering what my colour actually is. Purple is tempting, and I've always been partial to red and blue, but orange is pretty close and I'm not genuinely Sith-like (far too dogmatic for me). I don't really like orange much, though. I swing a couple orange sabers around in the hallway just to try them out.

I'm sitting back in my box with my arch-nemesis a couple places down, wondering if the trial can adjourn for the day. It's almost five and I'm bored.

We all go home for the night. I've been released into the custody of my parents, so I'm walking into a bigger version of their house, kicking off my shoes as I go. I'm picking up a piece of paper that might be an assassination contract a la Assassin's Creed. Unfortunately, without some serious creativity, I won't be able to collect on it. I'm supposed to stay here, after all...

Witch Trials. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: I think I was completely guilty of everything I was accused of.[/QUOTE]

I'm walking along a path by the river in Quickton. There are a large number of orangutan/dog/otter hybrids about, and the locals have been warned to stay away from them. One that looks like a great dane approaches me and jumps up, trying to lick at my face. I laugh.

Shift.

I practically fall out of the truck when we reach the police station. "It's okay", says Kate Beckett, "You're safe here."

My POV switches to Beckett, who's trying to solve the mystery of the invisible animalistic murderer. I'm now interacting with myself ("Sam") as the character Kate Beckett. I note that we don't have much ammo.

An Asian woman stumbles toward the safety of the police station. Already, she's bleeding from numerous slashes to her torso, which look almost like claw marks. The monster must have followed us here.

Sam mysteriously disappears, and we assume the worst.

I interrogate people who are the collective head of an international company. Someone sabotages the elevator, almost killing one of them.

They upgrade security.

The elevator is sabotaged again. I almost catch the culprit, but I have to stay in order to save the people inside. I catch the chain of the machine used for sabotage, and pull it up to a floor where they'll be able to get out.

The Chairman of the company is killed. The CEO chooses to reveal his identity.

The murderer decides to talk to me. It's Sam, complete with all my lucid superpowers. Apparently, I was the murderer all along. I'm watching myself give a villainous monologue. From a third person perspective apart from Beckett's character, I'm very surprised.

Murder Mysteries. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: Did not see that coming.

I'm working on a short-story adaptation of this dream, minus the identity confusion. It was actually a lot of fun.[/QUOTE]

Two characters are around my old apartment in Ixburg. They look like Johnny Depp and Robert Downey Jr.. I play with story lines and wonder what's about to happen. Then I'm running over rooftops and away from Sweeney Todd.

I'm on the roof and he's on the ground. I double back quickly, jumping down and landing a flying kick to his head. Then I turn around and keep running.

I'm in a playground, on top of one of the structures. There's a man with me. He has the head of an eagle, and wings. He tells me that something is out of alignment within me, that my back hurts because of it. I see tattoos dancing across skin as he presses into the pressure points on my back. I see his wings spread out above, and ask if I can touch them. He tells me not to.

I decide I liked the old tower better, even if it was less accessible. I crawl in through the window and realize that someone is lying on the floor. I ask him if he has a pulse. He says that he doesn't.

I fall into an ocean of black water. I swim to the surface, take a breath. I'm treading water for only a moment before I'm pulled under again. Everything is fuzzy, but I keep breathing, and I realize that I'm dreaming. I swim to the bottom, covered in dark grey silt, and maybe a shipwreck or two. I concentrate on dissolving the dream or opening a portal or maybe both

I'm balanced precariously on the dark surface, which is riddled with craters. Briefly, I believe that I've made it to the moon, but I see the crescent moon on the horizon. I think that I'm on an asteroid between the Earth and the moon. I walk over the crest of the asteroid (10m in diametre), and look out at the moon. I'm perched at the top of a crater. I'm pressed against the ceiling, and everything is going dark.

I'm in Ixburg. My parent's house is next to my oma's house as part of a duplex. The door is unlocked. I talk to my oma and am invited in. We make room for the group of Katimavik kids that are in town.

Outside fighting against some kind of non-human enemy. My character isn't supposed to have superpowers, but I do anyway. I see myself flying from a third person POV.

Demon Barbers, Malfunctioning Portals. Scare Factor: 3.

Below deck, on this particular pirate ship, there is a structure made with cooked spaghetti. We're sitting around it in a circle, making fun of Dean Winchester as he tries to add noodles to the structure, Jenga-style. He loses balance and half the structure collapses around him. The group laughs uproariously, and it's the next guy's turn.

I'm standing on deck, looking out over the water. Apparently we're being sold into slavery. Those of us in this very special group are making some very necessary escape plans.

"Have you ever been to [Modern Tortuga Expy]?" Asks Jack O'Neill from beside me.

I'm a short-haired blonde, badass and immortal, and I've been everywhere, man. "I'm familiar with the area," I say, and pause, considering. "I hope they've forgotten about me."

Now that we're on shore, we can put those plans into motion. We just need to make some tiny adjustments to fit the current situation. I'm standing next to our packed-together bunk-beds with O'Neill. All we need to do is lure one of the guards close enough...

A jaffa guard approaches us, demanding to know why we're breaking curfew.

I look at O'Neill, shrug. "No time like the present."

We escape.

Shift.

I wander the same environment in my real life persona, trying to remember where I parked, and if it was in a tow-away zone. Several days have passed.

Shift.

I decide to go to one city or another. Calgary? I'm driving badly, wondering belatedly why I'm cutting so many people off. I end up walking into a store that I'm apparently the manager of. I watch someone in another store across the mallway play the guitar. I pull out an electric guitar from my stuff, even though I cannot play the guitar.

Shift.

I'm in Quickton, riding a bicycle and absently wondering why there are so many hills. I talk to a DC, a woman I apparently don't like very much, and retroactively acquire memories of whatever it is she's talking about.

Shift.

I'm on a farm for yet another family reunion. I'm pushing a steak around on my plate, mildly discomfited to realize that I've already been eating it. I decide to finish it anyway and ignore anything the anti-vegetarians around me decide to say. There's a woman with long, dark hair sitting beside me. She seems uncomfortable with all the religious proselytizing going on. I assure her that most of the godless heathens in the family (myself included) have already eaten.

Shift.

Playing with a dog.

Shift.

I'm to play the bad guy in some game. I adopt an atrocious English accent and hope the one English woman running around somewhere won't be too offended.

Shift.

I'm a female lawyer with an English accent, long dark hair, and a crisp grey pantsuit. I'm also very good at what I do. Also, evil.

Shift.

I'm jumping through impossible puzzles suspended over darkness. I'm communicating with someone via radio. I drop the rope. I jump down a couple levels, only to find it all tangled up. I'm presently annoyed by all that is paranormal, so I use a magic trick to cause the rope to "magically" raise itself to the next level. It involves wire.

Shift.

I'm standing in front of a magic shop.

Shift.

I'm in a mall. As Barbara Gordon, I talk to a cannibalistic hyena man. I'm replacing my right arm with something, and the hyena man tells me that they've ripped my arm off (before I jumped into the character) to make me more appetizing. I leave.

A Pirate's Life. Scare Factor: 3.[/QUOTE]

Non-lucidSemi-LucidLucid

I concocted a plan to confront LG, utilizing the golden bullets he left me. This is the plan:

Originally Posted by Sam's Paper Journal

Note: this is not a dream.

I'm standing by the Bar in McAnally's, the pub in Dresdenverse Chicago. The building is established neutral ground, and the place is specifically designed to break up magical energies. Its design is broken up into odd nooks and crannies perfect for a dream walk.

I order two beer from Mac and take them, handing Mac a twenty with my right hand as I hold the other two in my left. I thank him and make my way to a nearby table. I set down the beers.

I reach into the right pocket of my jeans, where I put the golden bullets LG had threatened me with. I place them on the table in front of me and look up at the ceiling while sipping on my beer. It tastes like I imagine butterbeer would: rich and sweet. Inexplicable.

"You really expect me to drink this?"

I open my eyes to find the Lunar God eying me skeptically. I relax and take another sip.

"I would have ordered a bottle of Pinot Gris again, but I'm really not in the mood for champagne."

The Lunar God leans forward over the table. "Sam." He says, "No games. What do you want?"

I'm wary of him. "I want to know who you are."

He leans back in his chair, satisfied. I watch the smirk form on his face and settle in for a round of bargaining. I don't forget that those little golden bullets on the table have been used to try to claim my life.

This is the result:

I'm with the Joker in an armoured truck in a scene eerily reminiscent of Fight Club. Now, what could that mean?


You're just a freak, like me!

I'm following two characters and a potential horror movie from a third person point of view. At one point, I accidentally possess one of the characters and take some time off from the plot to... dye my hair. So yeah.

Same location. I'm waiting for my karate class to start. I check my watch, and it's 6:90PM. I guess I'm late. No, wait, this is a dream sign. I look around, confused, because this doesn't really feel like a dream. I pay more attention to my surroundings, and realize that it actually is a dream. I stop to savour the amazing feeling of being lucid.

"I'm dreaming," I say, and I start to repeat it to myself as I move around the dream-world. I'm not feeling very well, so I go to grab something from the fridge (in a place I've never been). I'm craving rasberries. When I open the fridge door, I find clear Yop yogurt containers filled with frozen rasberries. I eat a few.

I'm moving toward the exit when Ben stops me and wants me to listen to a song. It's rap music. I'm not interested, and there was something I wanted to do tonight, so I'm busy. A brief wrestling match with my brother ensues, but I shake him off and run to the exit. A steel staircase leads to a latched window.

I will the window to be open. I crawl out and latch it behind me.

I remember that I wanted to go to McAnally's to meet with the Lunar God character. I stretch a hand out in front of me and will the dream to dissolve. I close my eyes briefly, but when I open them, the green grass and concrete and sun are still there. Energy continues to swirl around me. I close my eyes again, and push through the dream-fabric.

When I open my eyes again, I can't see anything. Everything is dark, though coloured energy swirls through the space to break up the monotony. There seems to be a slight tear in the dream, so I move toward it (zooming closer, not walking). I drop to my knees and feel for the wooden door that I'm sure should be there. I imagine the texture, feel for iron handles of the closed door. I visualize the grain of the wood that should be there, the glass that is set into it.

"Open the door," says Mac, rolling his eyes. "We keep them open while we're open."

I stand up and dust myself off, looking at the four pointed star mounted on the door, just above my eye level. Did I create that?


The dream star was more ornate.

I shake off the strange feeling and move to the bar beside the door. This isn't anything like I'd imagined the place to be. The wood is darker, glossier, and everything is more streamlined than I'd expected.

"Two beer." I say to Mac. I dig through my pockets for the twenty that should be there, but I only find a bunch of change in my right pocket, where the bullets should be. Loonies, toonies, quarters. I apologize for paying in change, and I give him the $20 pile of change, minus the six loonies I need for LG. I consider that since we're in Chicago, I should have given him American money. I let my hand hover over the pile of change, and will it into American bills. The money flickers and I see paper. I'm not sure if it worked.

Mac waves me off, and I grab the beer and my loonies, setting them both down on a round wooden table near the bar.

"Aw, you don't need to do that," says a voice, "You already paid for drinks."

"These aren't coins," I say, turning to look at what I think is the Lunar God. He's younger than any incarnation I've seen before. He grins in understanding and takes a seat.

I take a sip of the beer. It tastes like Pilsner.

There's a third person at the table, whom I never acknowledge. Her (?) presence seems shadowy, dark, barely there. I think it's Elaine.

A girl comes up to LG and asks if it's okay if she leaves with someone.

"Yes." says one of us, before LG can comment. We kind of need to talk to him.

Unfortunately, LG's very presence seems to destabilize all dreams, and I can't remember a damn thing after that. Including whether I still have the bullets.

Failed Interrogations. Scare Factor: 3. Reaction: I need a new plan.[/QUOTE]

I take out the one item of clothing in the washing machine that was, apparently, very important to wash separately. I throw in the rest of the clothes, consider using oxyclean, and wash on hot. When I go upstairs, I'm in my old apartment in Ixburg. The dishwasher is in front of the sink, so apparently I'm doing dishes as well.

***

I enter the building through the only set of doors that are open. Apparently it's not the entrance I'm supposed to use, though. I talk to a middle-aged woman with short red hair, who tells me off and gives me directions. I head past the stairs and onto a set of escalators. Presumably, these will take me to the elevators. I need to use the elevator because this is a really tall building that I've dreamed about before. Something about an orchestra.

***

I'm dreaming about university classes. A photo of me working on the project outside. There's a rack of clothing in the background, sitting just outside of the open door of a store. High quality clothes, a lot of black. All very feminine, though. I think I need to talk to my professor about something related to the project.

***

We're going on an impromptu trip, just because. Also, a national/provincial park in BC (which was also in another dream, which involved running and rock climbing) demands that we return the photos we took there. I tell my mom to make copies and send them, but to keep the originals. I'll take down the ones that I (did not) post to my online dream journal. The photos look remarkably similar to the ones I took in Squamish.


You will never take my pictures away. I will not allow it.

We were planning to go north to go skiing, but Castiel wants to go east because he's never been. We think we might not have time to get anywhere interesting on this road trip, but we go anyway. (I think we split into two groups. One goes west, one goes east.)

We're in Halifax. I'm thrilled, pointing out all of the imaginary landmarks that I see. My mom is driving through a strange version of downtown Halifax where all of the buildings are even closer together and the streets lead into each other in ways that they don't in real life. Also, running on the rooftops in dream!Halifax would be delightful.

There's a detour to my old apartment. We stop in to see my building manager. My mom wants to talk to him about something specific, but I'm just there to say hi, I guess. He now has a fancy glass office where the elevators used to be. He's talking on the phone right now, so I distract myself while we wait.

I overhear my mom talking about/pointing at camping equipment. I ask if we're going camping because that would be awesome but what are we going to use because we packed really light? I have a bookbag worth of clothes that might actually be carried in Amelia Pond's suitcase from the Eleventh Hour. Which is small.

I walk in to a huge tent that apparently has some of my old stuff in it. I don't recognize any of it, but rationalize that something mundane and forgettable, like the broom in the corner, could very well be mine.

When I walk out of the tent, my high school classmates are sitting on the lawn, drinking. Someone pours me a rum and coke. Matt regales me with a "when I was a bartender" story and teases me about the hangover I had yesterday. I'm a bit defensive, saying that I did pretty well for someone who rarely drinks.

I walk into an apartment on the first floor, waving to my old classmates as I go. I press along the wall near the thermostat, and a second room opens. I guess that this is a bedroom I left here. I set down my mini-suitcase, somewhat glad that I still have (outdoorsy) clothes here. Oh, and apparently I'm Batgirl.

***

This dream occurs frame by frame, manga style. Most of it is even in black and white. Ed is singing into a tape recorder about alchemy. There may even be text balloons. A caption says that alchemists are obsessed, and don't think of anything other than alchemy, ever. Alphonse wanders through, still armor, and wants to know what the hell is going on. Ed happily explains that he's recording a tape for their recently discovered grandmother. Alphonse is understandably disturbed.

Familiar Places. Scare Factor: 1. Reaction: I'm sure I've seen those places before.[/QUOTE]

I'm checking out a gym in the new city I've apparently moved to. It's based in a university/college/high school, and membership is affordable.

A group of (mostly female) students are being led around by their female teacher. Some of the girls need to use the bathroom, so the group is collectively looking for one. They're in subway tunnels now, and the teacher is talking to a bouncer outside some kind of establishment, who won't let them in because they're women or minors or both.

I'm talking to my brother, Ben, at some kind of family gathering on a farm, when he starts quoting The Spoony One verbatim while we're talking about a game. Movie. Book. IDEK. Anyway, I call him on it, but he has no idea what I'm talking about. My cousin Reg, who's the same age as my brother, says he got to see a screening of that once. They're online videos, I tell him. What the hell.

We're trying to watch The Daily Show, but Ben tells me that we can't watch the episode because it's only on the US version of the site. I explain to him how you can use an add-on for Firefox to - ahem. Never mind.

Running up the stairs at the farm.

Someone explains to me that the farm is in danger and we have this plot going on to save it. Jill rolls her eyes and tells me to run because I'll never hear the end of it.

"I'm dreaming." I realize at some point. I blink in surprise. "How am I lucid?" I wasn't planning on having any lucid dreams tonight.

I'm going for a quick meal in Tim Hortons, trying to decipher the menu and remember what I can eat. I really want some chicken noodle soup, but I can't eat it since I'm vegetarian. I could get a bagel, but I don't really want a bagel. When I step outside again, I continue with my dream. Apparently I'm a student in some Squamish/Halifax hybrid. There are mountains in the not-so-far-away distance, and one in particular is relevant to the plot. So are the houses I'm biking towards.

Unconscious Desires to Move to a New City. Again. Now. Scare Factor: 1.

I am, once again, my female Lucifer character, where I introduce myself to people as Sam. I'm following a version of the character in which I'm sent from place to place through dimensional portals. I open the portals myself, but I have no idea where they lead to when I step through. I don't remember most of this dream, which is a shame, because it was fun. I think.

I've secured myself an invite into the apartment. I don't need it; it's just polite. I open up the window and step inside and -

splash

- find myself doused in holy water. It has no effect, of course.

Buffy is very suspicious of me, for good reason, I suppose. I'm not actually an antagonist to her and Angel, though. This time.

Buffy, When You're Quite Possibly Evil, Maybe. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: I really wish I could remember more of this.

I'm walking around a version of the grocery store in Ixburg which I've seen before. Produce by the entrance to the southwest, ceiling-high shelving running east-west all through the store like a warehouse. I'm looking for strawberries.

Still in the grocery store, I'm now a different character. I'm an employee and also some kid genius version of myself from an alternate timeline that I can't recall the gender of. I help someone with a difficult problem. They try to complement me, but I tell them, "Hey, I just work in a grocery store."

I don't and never have in real life.

Now I'm in a strange mix of Halifax and Quickton, where the rivers cross through the city, forcing roads to follow bridges and riverbanks. It's topsy-turvy, and hilly, and it's a bright, sunny day.

Various members of my family, including aunts and uncles, are waiting on the patio section of a restaurant, looking at menus and hoping someone will get around to serving us eventually. I'm looking at the menu, unable to find anything that's vegetarian, but the menu itself is really hard to decipher. A waitress shows up to say we're supposed to be ordering right now, but they're really busy, so is it all right if we just wait a bit?

My mom, another woman (possibly Sandra, my mom's friend), and myself go to check out another restaurant. When we get there, we notice that our other group hasn't been served yet, either. It's a lose/lose situation, I guess.

Sandra is driving. We cross a bridge and are headed downward on a slight slope when, from the passenger seat, I notice a truck heading toward us has suddenly flipped into the air without warning. "Whoa." is the collective consensus. Sandra hasn't slowed down and I call her on it. The truck is still flipping, and it's starting to roll into our lane. As we get closer, the truck flips up into the air again, and we zoom safely underneath.



"Nice timing!" I say to Sandra.

I'm still in the Halifax/Quickton hybrid, zooming across the city at a bird's eye view. I think about karate classes once a week, and the fact that I keep moving from city to city, changing up disciplines and instructors. I'm a martial artist, I think to myself, I need to take my training into my own hands. A flash of me running down a dirt trail.

City-Fusions. Scare Factor: 1. Reaction: I think my subconscious is trying to tell me something.

I'm drinking. A lot. At a bar. I'm wondering if it's Saturday night and I missed the meetup with Vicki. I see Matt and Jen from High School on the other side of the bar, and debate over whether I want to talk to them. I've been drinking things like rum and coke all night, and now I've moved onto Pinot Gris. I guess. It tastes like champagne.

I'm in the backyard of the Ixburg Inn, having been ordered to clean up the scaffolding houses by my dad. I notice movement in another yard, a brief dark flash. I watch the roof of a nearby building for another sign of it. There's a dirtbiker up there. My mom and I watch him ramp from that roof an impossible distance over the highway. He lands badly, but that was supposed to happen. He's fine.

At a fair, I argue with Gus about something. I'm Shawn Spencer, and my dad (Henry) is around, too. The fair has a layout suspiciously similar to the backyard I was just in.

As myself, I put the truck in park, turn off the ignition, and raise my hands slowly. I'm turning toward the man in the passenger seat, who is happily delivering his Hannibal Lecture while pointing a gun at me. It's a revolver, I notice.



He explains to me that the time I was born can be flipped backwards to show the time it is right now. "You see," he says to me, "This time is the antithesis of your birth."

"Yes, that's very poetic."

I'm ordered out of the truck. I keep my hands up as I follow his orders, stepping onto the green grass in the backyard of my house. I know that there are kids inside the house, quite possibly my cousins. At this point in the dream, though, I think they might be mine.

I try to bargain with the man, but I know that he's going to kill me. If I resist, he says he'll kill everyone inside, but I can't be sure that he won't do that anyway. We circle each other over the grass. The man tells me that these bullets were specially made for me.

Don't I feel special.

The gun wavers for a moment, and I take my chance. I lash out with a kick to his wrist, then grab for the gun. I pick it up and aim at my tormentor. He raises his hands and grins, daring me to do it.

I can't. I empty the revolver of the gold bullets. They spill to the ground, and I scramble for the six of them. I stumble backward as the man laughs. I step inside, latching the glass patio door behind me.

"Go downstairs," I order my cousins. "Get one of the adults to call 911. Ask for police!" I shout at their retreating backs. I move through the house, locking and bolting the other two doors shut.

"So..." says my uncle, "We're safe as long as we don't go outside."

I consider the patio door, how easily the man could get in. "We're safe." I lie.

"Wait," I say after a beat, "Has anyone called 911?"

I curse and grab for the nearest black portable phone. I dial three numbers. "Hello, I need police at -" Silence on the other end. I glance at the display and read 901. Great. I'm wandering down the stairs at this point, redialling the number repeatedly to no effect. I see a flash of the man, laughing. I consider that he might have cut the phone lines.

"Does anyone have a cell phone?" I shout into the basement, frustrated and panicking. I begin redialling numbers on a blackberry no one gave me. 090. 901. 109. 119. My frustration reaches a peak -

And I realize that this is always what happens in dreams. I look up the stairs to the side door, reasoning that I fell asleep in my bedroom and there's no way I could actually be here. I walk up the stairs, touching things (the bannister, the wall), feeling the texture in order to solidify the dream. I'm worried about waking up. I unlock the door, open it. When I step outside, it's dark, and there's a layer of snow on the damp ground.

I move toward the street, making footprints as I go. I look up to the night sky, which is clear and filled with stars.

"Go to the moon," I whisper aloud. "Go to the moon."

I stretch a hand out in front of me, willing a portal to open, for something to happen. A pulse radiates outward from my hand, blurring everything briefly and circling behind me. I can still see the stars. The dream dissolves.

I'm in some kind of afterlife realm, filled with ribbons and people and flying. I'm attached to the colour yellow, which I hate. I try flying, but can only achieve a delayed falling effect.

LG's Got a Gun. Scare Facter: 4.5. Reaction: Lucidity!

I did the faux-math LG was trying to tell me about. Apparently I'm supposed to die next week. Saturday-ish.[/QUOTE]

I'm wandering around a casino parking lot, looking for my car. Two other people are there, one of whom I met at a first aid course a couple weeks ago. The other one might be my friend Miranda. I think I spot my car, but it turns out it belongs to Mel, the first aid girl. It looks remarkably similar to my car until I realize that the plates don't match. My plates are --- ---, I remember with perfect clarity. Also, she parked rather crazily, and apparently I consider myself the better driver. We then find my dad's car close by. Maybe I drove this one? No.

Making out with a girl in a bathroom.

Having a conversation on another forum about whether I can be considered bisexual if I'm pansexual. Um... yes.

Dude, Where's My Car? Scare Factor: 1. Reaction: There goes a dream-sign.

Originally Posted by Samael

Obviously, I've been watching too much Supernatural.

I've somehow been entered into a race that involves hopping on one foot and a flutter-board. I argue that 5K is a long way to hop on one foot.


idek.

I'm crowded into the entrance of a bar. I think these are people that my brother knows. I notice that one guy is acting suspicious, so I follow him outside and onto the roof. I find him threatening another man with a knife.


You know that little voice people have that tells them to quit when they're ahead? You don't have one!

"Hey!" I call, stepping out of the shadows. Both men turn to look at me, one still brandishing his knife.

"Hey, calm down," I say, hoping that I don't sound patronizing, "There's no need for that, right? Put the knife down, and we can talk."

We circle each other, and I'm moving closer with every step to the side. The third man moves away, more or less forgotten. The man with the knife focuses all his attention on me. He's not going to listen.

I step in without warning, grab the wrist holding the knife and twist. He doesn't drop the knife, but I have a hand on it, and suddenly I can see all the outcomes of the fight at once, blood spraying everywhere. Mostly his.

I'm sitting back in the bar with a group of people that I know. I'm invisible part of the time, so I play with the DCs a bit, asking them what they're seeing as they look at me. One replies that she can see the skull of my grandmother's rotting corpse, covered in maggots. I decide that this game isn't fun anymore.

The police are all over the bar, trying to figure out what happened. The patrons are willfully ignoring them. I'm glad that I'm wearing black, because at least you can't see the bloodstains. I look down at my grey shirt, covered in blood. No, I was wearing black the whole time, I convince the dream. I get back into the story by willing myself into a different form. I decide to shift into a guy, because that's an unlikely disguise. Hey, I can be Jensen Ackles!


Yay! I'm him a lot. Why?

I consider changing eye/hair color so I don't look like an actor, but I decide that he doesn't actually exist in this universe and go talk to the cops. Because it's... fun, or something.

There's a female detective on the roof, speculating about what happened. I see these speculations in flashbacks. The girl (me) made a grab for the knife, she says, and cut her attacker, injuring him. Then he killed her, and disposed of the body somewhere.


Not nearly this cool.

I'm somewhat insulted, actually, but it helps me put the pieces together. I must have won the fight. Since the man with the knife is missing, I probably accidentally killed him and disposed of the body somewhere. Wow, do they have it backwards.

Nobody wonders where the third man went.

They're talking about fingerprints, so I decide this would be a good time to change mine. I will the change, and zoom back into watching an onscreen sequence of the patterns changing.

Skinwalkers are the bad guys, right? I wonder on the irony of shifting into Dean Winchester as a shapeshifter. Am I evil right now? Maaaybe.

I converse with the suspicious detective who probably suspects me for something. I swing around the wire fences on the rooftops for a bit, before coming back to the ground where the detective is waiting on a park bench. Apparently we had a long, in-depth conversation that I can't remember, because she actually trusts me a bit now. Yay, we're friends. Or possible love-interests. Hm.

The detective is wondering if I'll be okay to get home by myself, being as it's after dark in a city infested by the supernatural. I assure her that I'll be fine (being as I'm one of the supernatural monsters everyone seems to be afraid of). I check the area, zooming out to the east, where I'm headed. Dark alleys lit by an orange glow. I zoom out to the west, only to find a pack of Dark Jedi closing in on us, jumping around as NPCs do in Jedi Academy. I spot a couple of green and blue lightsabers among all the red, mostly carried by those wielding dual lightsabers.

"We should go," I say, still tracking the pack remotely. "We should go now." I'm more concerned about the detective than myself. I heal fast.

We walk eastwards away from the group, hoping that we won't bait them if we don't run away.

They catch up to us. Immediately, I draw dual sabers in red and blue, slashing down the first two Dark Jedi to reach us. I take down another, still standing protectively in front of the detective. I rush out past a female Dark Jedi, striking her in the back before she can turn. Finally, there are two left. I face the leader and send one of my sabers flying at his remaining minion. She's down. I rush the leader with a flurry of strikes.

No effect.

I pause in my offensive. "Okay," I tell him, "That was at least three direct strikes to your neck, minimum. You should be dead." He just grins.

A blow to the arm, and I have him disarmed. I grab him by the hair and slash across his neck. "Are. You. Dead. Yet?" I ask the disembodied head. That would be a yes.

Also, fail for lack of gore.

I'm covered in blood, so I figure now is a good time for a tactical retreat. We make it to the Best Western where I've made a reservation. I figure we have a half hour to shower and make ourselves presentable (read: not covered in blood) before the antagonists start to come after us.

"I'd offer 'ladies first'", but I'm the one who looks like a walking horror movie right now."

Unfortunately, I'm really bad with numbers when I'm dreaming, so we end up wandering the halls looking for the hotel room. Which is on the third floor. No, the first. No, the second. Wait, are we in a hostel?

Skinwalkers. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: Violence is fun.[/QUOTE]

There's a tall building reaching to the sky in a giant spiral. It has something to do with Bruce Wayne, I think I met him, I don't know. I'm exploring the huge building when I happen onto a route outside. I've found a viewpoint from Assassin's Creed. For some reason, I need the eagle, so I sneak up to it and catch it! I'm holding onto the eagle as I jump, knowing that I'm about to fly up into the sky!

I fall. And fall, and fall, and fall, and (viewpoints are very high up, you know) fall. I twist around to protect the bird I'm holding in my hands, and land on my side without much of an impact. Aside from turning into a very small owl, the bird is fine. I'm glad, but I'm also very disappointed at the lack of flying.

***

I'm in a space station, trying to sabotage a robot, because it is evil. I pop the robot's cassette tape from a wall, and move over to a desk. Or a checkout. I think I'm resisting the change from space station to convenience store.

Two female DCs are freaking out on me (one is my fictional boss on the project), wondering what the hell I'm doing with that tape because it could ruin the whole project. They're not getting in my way, so I ignore them. I pop the tape into a recording device and record the ambient noise. I briefly consider reprogramming the robot by manipulating the sounds being recorded.

***

Teletubbies are attacking the earth.



They're flying in from outer space and attacking us. I zoom into the tall cylinder building from a previous dream and start fighting teletubbies.

Teletubbies. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: Kill them. [/QUOTE]