Things to Run Away From Really Fast

My imagination is running away with itself.

08/20/10



The setting is a town in a post-apocalyptic landscape. The few remaining adults are being picked off one by one, killed by things they can't even see. The surviving children are being drawn towards the town hall, where a dark force promises them protection.

I follow the point of view of a little girl whose father is killed in front of her. We don't see what kills him, but his arm explodes suddenly in a fountain of blood, and she's running, tripping, looking for somewhere she can be safe.

She crawls through the wreckage and finally finds them. A dozen or more children are gathered, underground, in a circular concrete bunker. In the center of the group is a demon, an inhuman little imp that looks especially pleased with itself.

It calls itself the Devil.

- time skip -

The children are running.

I materialize in the first person, cornering the creature as I do. It cowers as I place my hands on the concrete wall, one hand on each side of its head, boxing it in.

"Do you know," I ask conversationally, "How many lives I've been through? How many times I've done the same things over and over again?"

- faces i'm too close to fighting a war that doesn't mean anything hand to hand combat a peaceful mountain landscape and i'm teaching them to kill -

"You don't have any idea," I say, meeting the thing's terrified eyes and smiling widely, "What Hell is."

End recall.

Scare Factor: 4/10
Rating: 6/10

The quote's more or less verbatim. I get a bit too caught up in my characters sometimes. Also, flashbacks can be incredibly freaky.

08/17/10



I'm in a nightclub, laughing at something a woman is saying. We have to shout to be heard. There are strobe lights, black lights, and coloured lights changing in time with the music. It's great fun, and utterly normal. There's a lot of alcohol involved.

I spot the tattoo while I'm sitting at the bar. A woman walks by, wearing a top that reveals her torso. There are Chinese characters tattooed above her navel and to the side, which translate in my mind to "Transformation". I leave the club.

The tattoo represents a group that I belonged to in a previous life, a school of martial artists. I need to find out what the hell they're doing here, in my city.

It's daylight. The group has rented out the local campground, and set up a temporary building. When I step inside, I find that the interior is open and airy and entirely out of place. It's set up like a dojo martial arts studio, with hardwood floors and paper windows along the back. The students are lined up, practicing their forms. An old man stands at the front of the classroom. I step into the midst of the group, beside a young woman whose hair is pulled into a high ponytail. I flow through the familiar movements, as easily as I did centuries ago.

We come to a stop, and I turn to the woman beside me. "Master Lin," I say, inclining my head respectfully.

She laughs, and the rest of the group files out of the room, following the old man. "Am I a Master?" she asks, eyes twinkling. "You are here to see Princess ___, yes?" She says the name of the princess, but my mind automatically translates it to the English "Blossom".

I meet her in front of a waterfall. She's on the other side of a narrow stone path, caged on one side by a raging river, and on the other by a treacherous fall. Her long hair flies free in a gentle breeze, and her silk gown flows with the air currents. She turns to look at me, smiling, and I read trickery in her bright aura.

End Recall.

Scare Factor: 2/10
Rating: 5/10

Hey, Subconscious! China =/= Japan.

08/15/10



I stand on a narrow walkway, facing off against the creature I've been hunting. It's been hiding among the humans, wearing the face of a beautiful redhead. Right now, she's snarling, defensive, and her fangs are in full view. The Doctor, meanwhile, is hovering over my shoulder, looking like he might intervene.

I'm distracted for just a moment, and the vampire turns her back and jumps off the landing.

I glance back at him. Wordlessly, we agree on a course of action. The Doctor moves away from the edge, goes back into the main building to save the day.

I survey the area, quickly. It's a six-story drop, at least. It dimly registers that I'm dreaming, and before I can change my mind, I'm jumping after her.

The ground rushes up to meet me. I hit the tile floor, narrowly missing a set of wooden pews. I look around, noting that I'm in the sanctuary of a large church.

End recall.

Scare Factor: 2/10
Rating: 6/10

This one's not very exciting.

08/28/10



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I keep doing this until the sun sets.

Scare Factor: 1/10
Rating: 2/10

No recall whatsoever from last night, so here is my only recent lucid.

08/16/10



I'm in a house with many rooms, interlocking and placed at odd angles. My surroundings are mostly wood - hardwood floors and ceilings, solid oak banisters as I climb the stairs. There's a darkness here, I can feel it, caused by a multitude of tortured spirits trapped within the rooms.

I'm looking for one in particular.

At the top of the stairs, on the second floor, I come to a bathroom. I nudge the door open. It creaks as it moves, opening into a plain bathroom. The floor is dark tile, and there's an empty jacuzzi tub to my left. On the right side of the bathroom is the vanity, and on the far right of the room is a shower stall.

I step into the room and close the door behind me, knowing that this is where my clue is. I stand straight and compose myself, reaching for a particular feeling. I focus on cold, inky blackness, on the unyielding terror of a nightmare, and pull it from inside me. I watch the paint on the walls peel, rust streaking across water-soaked walls.

It has something to do with the water, I think vaguely, allowing myself to move on autopilot. I have to drown. I step into the shower stall, and watch the door close behind me. Water begins to gush into the stall, held in by the waterproof seal on the doors. It won't make any difference if I try to escape now. The water is up to my knees now, filling up fast. It takes only seconds to reach my neck, and in no time at all, I'm completely submerged.

I blink through the cloudy green haze that encompasses my vision. I feel calm, the quiet confidence that accompanies lucidity. I take a breath, and feel clean fresh air enter my lungs. My breathing pattern is steady.

I step out of the shower stall as the water drains away, and look at the tub across from me. It isn't empty.

Blood overflows from the white acrylic tub, spilling over the side and staining the tile floor. In the water is a body, twisted and mutilated. Its skin is flayed off, and its stringy hair hangs limply into the water. The creature grasps weakly at the side of the tub and lifts its head, trying to crawl out.

I meet the thing's eyes, and go to kneel beside it.

"Your employment ended poorly, I take it."

I saw this man in an earlier dream. A mercenary. He and his brother worked for an enemy of mine. They tried to kill me at the time.

He mumbles something.

"You're dead." I inform him.

A hollow, rasping laugh.

"Tell me where to find him."

He does.

I leave the apparition to his torment, and let the nightmare fall away. I'm standing in the hallway, looking out into the bright sunlight.

Maybe I'll go flying.

The Otherworld. Scare Factor: 3.

I actually couldn't remember any specific task I wanted to complete at that time. I ended up searching in my long-term memory, and thinking of Walms. I actually managed to teleport somewhere to look for him, but no actual success.

I am, however, getting better at teleporting.

I ran into the person I was chasing later, as well. There was a lot of talking that I don't remember.

I'm baaack.

Originally Posted by #1. First Appearances

It's dark, and I'm surrounded by beautiful, frightening living statues made of shadow... twisted, slender, lethal. I want to remember them when I wake up, because they're mine.

08/26/10



The Monster of the Week gets in over its head.

This dream takes place in my old apartment building in Ixburg. The suite is a floor down from where I actually used to live, and it's been refitted with giant windows. It has a balcony with a fire exit, and the place is spacious and airy. Which is fortunate, because I live there with a group of people, and we're all sleeping together.

I'm alone in the bedroom when I see it. A presence has been on the edges of my consciousness for a while now, and it finally coalesces into a physical form. It's a black statue, shiny and carved out of something like obsidian or onyx. It's vaguely humanoid, but it's a simplified form. It has a somewhat bulbous head, but the rest of it is sleek, almost liquid.

Time speeds up, and I watch life continue in fast-forward. The other people in the apartment don't notice the statue at all. I have the feeling that it's been there for some time, and the fact that I can see it now means nothing good.

Ignoring the others going about their day, I stand up from the bed and walk over to the statue. It's immobile, but I can feel a dark presence.

It's moving. The statue bends an arm back, quick as lightening, and stabs forward. My mouth falls open in an involuntary gasp, and I see myself being impaled on the thing's arm, its hand reaching out through my lower back. I come to the sudden, horrible realization that I'm a sacrifice, and the only person who lives here that meets the requirements. Golden white light streams into my vision, claiming everything, and I feel myself fall back, completely detached from my physical form.

It's like being in the blue-white light from previous dreams, but this feels more like home, more a part of myself. I'm searching for something, cataloguing information that my conscious mind can't comprehend. And I feel it.

The "statue" exists before me as an infinitesimal dark speck, a mote of dust. The thing before me, the spirit inside the statue, I reach out - no, I don't even have to reach out. Just by existing in this state, I snuff out its tiny little black soul.

The light falls away, and I'm left standing in the apartment, completely intact. The dark presence is gone, and I allow myself a glimmer of satisfaction.

There's a reason they call me the Lightbringer.

Mugging the Monster. Scare Factor: 2.

08/11/10



I'm travelling through a village. Their level of technology seems medieval at best. A little girl is suspected of being a witch. I help her escape.

We wander up a path through an idyllic countryside, hilly and covered in green. I lead and the girl, ten or so, trails slightly behind me. The hinges of the wooden gate creak as they move, and I hold the gate open. The girl shrieks in delight and runs onto the field. A dark brown horse is running towards us. It has odd, light-coloured streaks painted across its side. As it approaches the girl, it slows down. The girl jumps up and down, asking if she can ride it.

"He doesn't like anyone, even me." I say, studying the horse. I smile when the horse snorts. "Especially me. I think he might like you, though."

The girl climbs on the horse's back, and the two of them gallop across the fenced enclosure.

Later, we're sitting inside a log cabin that resembles a barn. The black horse is now a black owl, perched on a railing. I sit across from him, and we watch the girl explore the building as we talk. She runs back over to us, smiling as she sits down on the couch.

"We're going to have to winter-proof the house if she's going to stay with you." I tell the owl seriously.

The girl turns into a bird. I catch the bundle of feathers between my hands, gently. "You are far too domesticated." I tell her.

I will the cracks in the wall to close, making the wood grow back together, sealing out the wind.

It's winter the next time I return to the cabin. We play on the hill, sliding down packed snow and laughing.

Shapeshifting Children. Scare Factor: 1.

08/09/10



I'm standing in the shadows, talking quietly with the owner of a tavern. I lean casually against the open door frame, and the owner seems nervous, as if he'd very much like to tell me to leave. I ask him for information on my target, an older man who knows secrets that someone is paying to keep hidden.

The front door slams open, and most of the bar turns to look. My target is standing at the center of attention, panting. He looks around nervously.

I put a finger to my lips, warning the owner to keep silent, and step back into the night. Remotely, I see the man look at the open side door, before shaking his head and descending the stairs at the center of the room. I walk into the bar, through the front door this time. The target turns around and eyes me suspiciously, but my dark brown cloak is unremarkable, and I'm making my way to the bar.

When he turns a corner, I'm down the stairs after him. I see him slip into the dormitories, the beds that the tavern rents out, and I enter the room after him. He's not there. Unconcerned, I head towards the bed that an old woman, who used to work for the tavern, said was his the last time he stayed here. I strip the bed and see subtle signs of stitching at the seams. I rip into the mattress, sending stuffing across the room, and taking what's hidden there.

The stack of papers is old, but well preserved. I focus on the title.

These are the carvings of the things I saw.

The rest of the information needs to be translated. I carefully place the manuscript in my bag and fasten it shut, slinging the bag across my shoulder.

The old man must have escaped through the Shadow Ways (portals?), but I have what I need. I walk down the hallway and find an exact copy of the room I just left. I think about searching it, but decide that the phenomenon is entirely normal, since this is a dream.

What one person will pay to keep hidden, others will go to any length to reveal. Curious and excited, I take the stairs to the main floor, ready to meet my contact.

Questions. Scare Factor: 2.

I didn't get to find out what the manuscript was, and I wasn't lucid even though I knew I was dreaming. What a frustrating ending.

08/08/10

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

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

***

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

***

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



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

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

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

Which is fortunate, for his sake.

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

***

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

***

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

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

***



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The woman falls to the floor, her neck broken.

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

Claustrophobia. Scare Factor: 2.

08/07/10

I hum a little bit, smirking as the crowd of terrified DCs shrinks away.

"Look at these people," I sing, walking down blue-lit steps, "Amazing how sheep'll show up for the slaughter..."

I hit the wrong notes. Annoyed, I start over.



Slipping. Scare Factor: 2.

This was probably inspired by the conversation I had with Mzzkc the other day, saying I couldn't remember lyrics during dreams. Apparently my subconscious took offense.

Funny thing. A couple days ago, I couldn't find the can opener. Now, I have a swiss army knife with a can opener, so I reached into my pocket to find it. I knew that it wasn't in my pocket, but I figured I could will it there.

Wait.

I reality checked and realized that I was awake.

Boring dreams ahead.

08/06/10

I wake up, hearing the phone ring. I stumble out of bed, cursing because I was planning to sleep in and order room service.

Oh, yeah. I'm staying in a hotel. I've been driving for a really long time, and I'm in a big city in the US, I think.

Where is that damn phone? I run out of the hotel room and into the living room. There are a bunch of blue-uniformed maids in there, standing in a circle and gossiping. I ignore them, vaulting over the couch to get to the cordless phone in the far corner of the room.

I pick it up on the last ring, and the answering machine clicks on. The tone goes off, and my uncle Roy starts to leave a message.

"Hey, there. We thought you'd be in town, so -"

"I'm here, Uncle Roy. What's up?"

Roy tells me that the rest of the family is in town, and they want me to come have dinner with them. I tell him, stiffly, that that would be fine. Really.

"Great. We'll pick you up in a half hour."

I try to protest, but he hangs up before I can. Sighing, I hang up the phone, wondering if I have enough time to order room service before I leave. Chances are, nothing my family is serving will be vegetarian.

I'll have to survive on the side dishes, though. I'd rather have a shower.

The rooms have morphed into a hostel-like configuration, with a shared bathroom and living space. Kitchen, too. I rush into the shower before an older woman can take it, and she stalks away, sulking.

When I get out of the shower, at least four of my relatives, all women from my mother's side of the family, are doing dishes in the kitchen. I tell my grandma to leave them alone, since those aren't my dishes, but whatever.

I'm at the supper when I realize my grandma died a few years ago. I rationalize this by deciding that the woman must be her sister (but I use my great grandmother's name).

***

I'm on a ski hill. My skis keep crossing.

I remember that I wanted to go on a hike. One of the trails leading up the mountain will take me to a part where it's summer.

I go to drop off my skis in a locker, then head over to the chair lift. A preteen girl is nervous about getting on the lift, but her family is coaxing her on.

***

I'm wandering around, taking down my posters. They all have writing on them, which is research for the high school newsletter I apparently publish. I'm worried about finishing it before the summer break next week.

The building is supposed to be high school, but it looks more like my old university campus.

I posted a map of the ski resort from the previous dream, but it's a really bad photocopy. A memory plays through the room. A teacher speculates on the source of the posters.

Potluck. Scare Factor: 1.

08/05/10

I hardly remember anything from last night. The first time I fell asleep, I experienced a few hypnagogic hallucinations, one of which formed into an actual coherent scene. I was talking to a recurring DC, although I don't remember which one, and I remember agreeing to something that I probably shouldn't have.

I snapped out of the hallucination, but couldn't remember any details.

The only real dream I have a vague memory of was talking to Castiel, who seemed a bit stressed out. A few flashes of wandering around a sandy-coloured city.

Deals. Scare Factor: 3.

08/04/10



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

Waiting for a Train. Scare Factor: 4.

08/03/10

I'm Neal Caffrey again. Only this time, I'm back on Hoth, using quick blasts of blue energy to fight off a giant snow monster. To reiterate, I'm using force powers to fight a monster while wearing an expensive suit and a fedora.

Repeat. Scare Factor: 1.

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

08/01/10

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

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

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

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

***



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

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

The line picks up.

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

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

The line goes dead.

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

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

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

***



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course, Master Yoda."

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



He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***





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

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

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

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

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

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

"Doctor?" she hisses.

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

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

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

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

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

Ariadne steps back, nodding reluctantly.

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

***

"Not so fast," says Saito.

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

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

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

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

He is never going to let me live this down.

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

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

The dream fades.

Mansions of Silence. Scare Factor: 3.

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