Recent DJ Posts

1) I am still in school, panicking about a 3D model I had due and hadn't done yet. Go to a math class and forget the homework. Luckily, I realize that I am currently on break from school, but I don't make the step to lucidity... Sad.

2) I am in my sister's room, and people are attacking my house. I somehow know that they are in the walls, and am semi-lucid. I (somehow) use telekinesis as some sort of x-ray, highlighting people's silhouette with a light green color. Controlling the vision with my left hand, I use my right to fire a blast of small beads of energy, blasting holes in the wall like a shotgun.

3) My roommate and I are in our dorm room, back from christmas break. I ask him how his holidays were, and we chat for a bit.

4) This image. I saw this in waking life on a cardboard box today, and it triggered a vague memory of me seeing it earlier, in my dreams. Deja vu...


5) I was LUCID, and in an office setting. And that's all I remember at this point. Maybe writing dreams more than 12 hours after you wake up is a bad idea...

6) I remember having my fedora, and being LUCID. Trying to program it with thoughts so it would function as I want it to, as an infinite storage space. It was like teaching a dog a trick. I put something in it but it didn't go off to the pocket dimension, so I tried again till it worked.

7) Burn Notice like dream. I was the spy, replaying (I had a feeling I was retracing what had happened before, or that this was a story that had been told before) a certain scene. It was in the ocean, myself being on a small boat. Unfortunately, this boat was heading down an intake into a water purification plant, that frothed as the machine sucked it in. I abandoned ship before I was pulled into it, only to end up in a similar predicament. I had to take a leap of faith and swim down into a submerged tunnel and trust I didn't drown before getting to air... Nope! Not doing that. I went up onto the land the tunnel burrowed into, and made my way onto a massive, floating, metallic structure. Maybe a fort or base? Not entirely sure. I jumped off the structure, only to realize how tall it was... Hundreds of feet above the water, I maneuvered myself in the air to avoid hitting a large fishing boat.

Key: Non-Lucid, Lucid, Commentary/Notes, Hypnagogic Hallucinations

Three dreams recalled from last night. It's been a while since I've had multiple recall! I should have written down the second one during the night because there was so much to it, but oh well, you live and learn.

Clone Dance

I was watching people dance. They were on a stage and all were men. One of the men was there three times. He explained that one of the other two identical people was his son -- who was identical to him but about 2 inches shorter -- and the other was just doing a very good impersonation of him. The original guy and the guy doing the impersonation laughed and started to do a rather complex dance routine, which was pretty exiting to watch.

Cornered

I was in my brother's room. However it was lined with a rusty metal tank. The corners of the tank had been cut away. One by one they were covered up by objects that fit into the specific sized holes in corners. The final hole was filled by the top of a man's head. He was bald. I recognised him as Jesse from Burn Notice. I felt like he had betrayed me. It went dark, but then I remember being outside of the tank.

Taking the Fall

I was in one of my old science classrooms at back at secondary school. Three kids were there who were in the year above me, L, N, and P.

For some unknown reason they were coming at me as though they were going to beat me up. I told them that they were mistaken if they thought it would be so easy and that I could take all three of them. I quickly dispatched L to the ground and then tussled with N. P was about to attack me when he was struck down by a stool. I dropped N to the floor and turned to see that Elliot from Leverage was in the room and had helped me out. Turning to P I saw that the stool legs had impaled his chest and he lay dead, oozing blood.

The door to the classroom flung open. There was a man demanding to know what happened. I explained, but said that I had picked up the stool and killed P by accident during the fight.

Now the room was full of people. We had to stand in a line around the classroom, almost like we were soldiers standing to attention. I was told I had to stand at the end because I has a disgrace and that my future at the school was in question. I felt really sad. I looked around the room and caught Elliot's eye. He looked grateful by also very sad.

Someone was droning on about something. Most people were bored of listening and started leaning on the walls and desks.

06/16/2010

The problem with world-class assassins is that everyone wants to kill each other.



An old woman hums tunelessly, pushing her squeaking cart along the grey-flecked tiles. Her nails tap tap tap against the stainless steel handle, along with a beat only she can hear. She slows the cart down, the wheels shrieking their protest, and smiles at the young man behind the desk, pointing to the ID clipped to her shoulder. He glances up, looking bored, and barely glances at the ID before waving her along.

The hospital room is single-occupancy, dim and empty except for the bedridden patient. He wakes up from a doze, looks at the woman in scrubs as she enters the room. She slides a platter off of the food cart and slides it onto the tray sitting across his bed.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Burke?" The woman smiles.

"Horrible," he manages, glancing up blearily as she injects something into his IV. "Anything good to eat?"

"Of course, dear. There's tuna sandwiches, if you like those."

He perks up a bit, and nibbles at the sandwich. It's decent for hospital food, he decides. He'll be glad to get back to his normal life, with four-course dinners and world-class chefs.

The woman is still there when he finishes the sandwich. "That was actually pretty good," he tells her.

"Well, it is my own special recipe."

His mouth is dry, and he can feel his heart beating faster. Burke frowns. He's sweating. "Excuse me," he says, "But could you get a doctor? I think the symptoms are coming back."

The woman is unhooking the machines monitoring his vital status.

"Don't worry," she says. "It has nothing to do with your heart attack, Mr. Burke." She smiles kindly at him. "My special recipe is called Chalk Tuna. The compounds I've used in your sandwich are reacting with the drugs in your IV. It's untraceable, almost completely undetectable during an autopsy... rather brilliant, if I do say so myself."

Burke's fingers twitch. He wants to reach for the button, to call a nurse, call anyone, but he can't move. He tries to shout, but his mouth won't open, his voice won't work. An icy sensation begins to crawl in from his extremities, cold and burning at the same time.

"It's also a paralyzing substance," the woman muses, "and it's an incredibly painful way to die."

She smiles fondly down at the man seizing on the bed. "Have a nice day, Mr. Burke."

The cart begins its squeaking journey back to the elevator. Burke shuts his eyes and tries to scream.

---

Matilda has approximately four minutes to return the cart and exit the hospital. After that time, the real nurse will make her rounds and find Mr. Burke dead, the machines having shorted out due to faulty wiring. The doctors will attempt to resuscitate him, but the poison in his veins will prevent this from taking effect. There will be questions for the young man at the desk in front of the elevator, but Matilda plans to disappear long before any suspicion can fall on her.

Without a suspect or a murder weapon, the incident will be written off as a simple heart attack, and Mr. Burke's son will inherit his company.

Stepping out into the sunlight of the alley, Mathilda allows herself a moment to bask in the enjoyment of a job well done. She feels a shift in the air, a chill, and a blade burrowing into her skull.

I sheathe the wrist-blade and let the body fall, watching impassively as the infamous assassin kicks up dust on the dry ground. She twitches slightly, extending a hand in a clawing motion before going still.

I leave the body where it is. There's sure to be a complicated frame-up job involving several people who want to take power, but I've done my part. As long as Matilda is dead, I can get out of here and -

I'm throwing myself to the side. A line of throwing knives hit the brick behind me. I take cover, diving behind a dumpster, throwing a fireball in the direction of my attacker.



He's on the roof across from me, I reason. I came down from the hospital fire escape, but he was hidden by shadows - damn! I don't have an escape route, and we need to get out of here before they start looking for Burke's killer. Unfortunately, the owner of those throwing knives is not someone to be reasoned with.

"Simon?" I shout, stepping out from my hiding place. He's on the roof. "I didn't know you were in town."

"Everyone's in town, Sam!" That's Simon, all right. He looks giddy, sounds like he's on a sugar high. The man's more of a sociopath than I am. "Haven't you heard?"

"Yes." Goddamned council didn't even ask before invading my city.

"And you got Matilda first! I've been wanting to take her down for ages."

"Creepy?" I ask.

"Creepy." He confirms.

My fingers twitch, ready to call up another fireball. Simon tracks the movement, and I change my mind. "Simon," I say, "Would you like to play a game?"

His face splits into a grin. "First to a hundred?" He asks.

"I was thinking the whole conference."

Simon laughs. "I like the way you think," his smile widens even further. "Shame I'm gonna have to kill you."

He lifts up a hand and I'm running before he presses the button. I round the corner and the alley explodes.

I love my job.

---



I'm on top of a mountain, looking down on the valley. The city is sprawled out below. I take a breath, feel the cool mountain breeze drifting through my lair.

Some days, it pays to be evil.

I turn around to where my mom and dad are sitting at a stone table, looking around and seeming confused. My brother is there, too, but he just looks hungover.

I go to sit across from them at the table. My mom's eyes narrow as she gets her bearings, and I can feel her light-based aura sparking unpleasantly. I try not to flinch.

"It's in our best interests," I say carefully, "to wipe out all of the assassins as quickly as possible. They'll be gathering at the convention centre. Now, we can't all go in -"

"Why is that, exactly?" my mom snaps.

I roll my eyes. "You're a Reader. They'll spot Your Holiness from a mile away."

"How exactly did you get into this mess?" asks my dad.

I paint a look of surprise onto my face. "You mean you don't know?" I ask incredulously. "Our family - your side of the family - have been Assassins going back hundreds of years! Well," I trail off, "The last one was in the sixteenth century." Good times, as I recall. Reincarnation can be so much fun.

My mom's aura is sparking angrily. I try to ignore it.

"Look, we need to wipe as many people out in one swoop as we can." I have a thought.

"Mom... isn't your cousin doing the catering?" I ask.

She looks at me suspiciously. "He is. Why?"

I let a smile form. "Have you ever heard of Chalk Tuna?"

Conferences. Scare Factor: 4.

So ends the 100th post special edition of Things to Run Away From Really Fast! I've been meaning to write this up for ages...

The only thing I can remember from last night's dream is that I had an extra pair of running shoes. They were orange.