Recent DJ Posts

2017, 05-11

The White Rider

I am in a city that looks like it came straight out of a fantasy game. I look around and see a lot of people moving about, some of them stop to look at me as if they have never seen the like of me. I notice most of the people I am seeing are men that are decked out in armor as if ready for war. I’m not sure where I should be going, but I get the idea I should be going somewhere… I walk for a while and soon one of the men passing by asks what I am doing here. He says he doesn’t mean any offense, but he thought all of the women went to the shelter in the mountains. I’m not really sure what to tell him when I hear another voice call me by name, someone clearly recognizes me! I look and see Pippin from Lord of the Rings. Pippin says he was wondering when he would see me again. The man who questioned me says he thought all the women had left, Pippin says I’ve traveled with their company at times and I fight as well as a company of men. He says if I help protect Minas Tirith then the enemy will surely fail! I see Pippin is with another man, the first man continues on with his duties. Pippin introduces me to his friend who turns out to be Beregond, one of the soldiers of Minas Tirith. Pippin says they were just going up on the wall to see what they can see, maybe I should come. Beregond seems a little hesitant, but Pippin says he knows me well enough to vouch for me.

I follow Beregond and Pippin up some stairs and soon we are at the top of a wall overlooking the lands surrounding the city. I look out over the lands as Beregond and Pippin are talking about what is out there and what they know to be coming. I hear a faint noise out there that sounds demonic, and both Beregond and Pippin shiver as if a chill has run through them. Pippin looks over the wall and points to a place where three flying shapes can be seen swooping and turning in the sky. I look out and see it, too, and there are also shapes on the ground that appear to be people on horses. The flying shapes are firing blasts of dark energy at the people and horses, and I hear a horn blast from them. Beregond says that’s Faramir. Pippin is saying Faramir and his riders will never make it, won’t someone go help them? It looks like Beregond might be about to head out to help them but I have seen now why I am here. Much to Beregond’s amazement I jump right off of the wall to head out and help.

I see it is a lot farther than I had realized and I need a ride… I need a horse! As if called by my thoughts, I hear the sound of hooves behind me. I look back and I see a Rapidash quickly catching up with me. Rapidash slows down a bit beside me so I can jump onto her back and then she speeds towards the approaching riders as they are being bombed by the flying Nazgul yet again. Rapidash is fast, and in just an instant I am among them, using the song Battery by Metallica to call down bolts of white lightning on the attacking Nazgul. It doesn’t take much to make them back down, they immediately break off their attacks and soar back to the east, back to Mordor. I see flashes of white in the sky from off to the North, and two more Nazgul retreat from up there. Shortly after they retreat I see a white horse come into view with a white rider, Gandalf has come, but apparently the Nazgul had split up in order to keep him away from Faramir and the fleeing riders so they could not make it to Minas Tirith. Gandalf arrives and asks if everyone is ok, he says we need to get into Minas Tirith in case they return. All of the riders get their scared horses back under control and everyone rides for Minas Tirith. But I never get there because on the way I wake up.

Type: Paranoia/Evasion
Perspective: Mixed (initially Self, transforming to Character, male hobbit)

NLD: The dream began with a long complicated plot set in a futuristic world. The antagonist was trying to find me and some other people; I had the codes to some device of his that would frustrate his plans. At this point my dream character was still me, I know this because enemy agents were using my name and even showing around a picture of me. (The prevalence of this "paranoia/conspiracy" theme in dreams is one of the reasons I suspect—pure speculation—that schizophrenia in waking life is a condition related to dreaming.)

Enemy forces had located us, were closing in, we knew we had to run. We decided to split into two groups that would flee separately. I was with a group that was going to go on a very long journey. There was no perceptible shift in the dream or narrative, but by the end of the dream this was all entirely a group of male hobbits, and I, going with them, was also a male hobbit. There was no precise "moment" when the shift took place though, the dream narrative was continuous, and the transformation imperceptible: I was still "me' before the start of the journey then woke up remembering that I was one of the hobbits.

I had anticipated that we would need to flee and already packed a backpack, so while the two group leaders were waiting for the rest of us to prep and join them, I went and grabbed it. I checked inside first to make sure I had the right bag. I saw lots of warm clothes—that was good, I'm always inclined to get cold. I grabbed a few more things from my pile: a fleece jacket, a wide-brimmed hat. I was already wearing a leather pouch around my neck with my ring in it. When I had noticed this earlier I had wondered why my ring was in the bag instead of on my finger; I assumed I had to hide it for some reason. (Source: the dream played out with an increasing LOTR theme, so this could be a nod to the way Frodo carries the One Ring; it could also be day residue, as the other day I had taken off my ring for a long time for some task.)

On the table with the gear I was choosing from was a sort of talisman made of a round disk of leather, as well as a few masks which I grabbed at the last minute—they weighed almost nothing and might come in handy. I considered the options: should I put on a mask before we left? If I needed to conceal my identity from those who would recognize me it could be useful, but if we were trying to pass incognito among people who wouldn't already recognize me, wearing a mask might draw too much attention and be a disadvantage. But better to have the option than not.

I was the third one to gather around the group leader, a male hobbit, and we were waiting on about three others. While we were waiting I went through the masks I had grabbed at the last minute to make a more careful selection, trying them on in a mirror. A couple were cheap plastic full-face masks, and I wasn't sure if they would stand up to the rigors of travel, so I set them aside. I kept one, though, because it gave me a scary monster face and I thought it might be handy if we needed to play a trick and scare someone. I kept a plain black eye mask and another one that was just a single sheet of light brown translucent plastic—it weighed nothing and could serve as sunglasses, I figured. For now, I decided to wear the simple black eye mask. When I put it on, I noticed that I was strapping it over the glasses I was wearing: they had huge round lenses. I didn't remember owning glasses like this, but that was just one of many, many clues that should have alerted me to the fact that I was dreaming—I had not an inkling of it.

When our full group had assembled, the leader then instructed us to get rid of a lot of stuff that he figured we had probably packed. He had a list of very specific things we were supposed to give up, unnecessary objects that he said were a result of "emotional packing." Already on the table were a lot of little boxed games, like dice and tile games (source: Scrabble on Colbert last night). I worried that our long journey would get dull and depressing if we didn't even have a few games with us, but I understood his reasoning—we needed our packs to be as light as possible if we were to outrun our pursuers—so I reluctantly gave up some things as well.

There was one item that I wasn't sure about, so I went to consult the leader. It was a boxed set (I hadn't opened it yet) containing a special kind of saw blade that could function as a lathe, cutting wood into round or shaped dowels. The leader and I opened the box and inspected it. I felt a tool like this might be useful at some point, though I couldn't think of a precise situation in which I would need to lathe a dowel to survive. The only problem was that the tool was made out of solid metal, a complex shaped piece about eight by eight inches, and it was extremely heavy. "It's about as heavy as a two-liter bottle of water," I estimated aloud. This decided it: the leader reasoned that water was more essential, so if the tool cut down on the amount we could carry, it would have to go. I reluctantly left it behind. Later as we began our journey, I thought back and regretted this: I realized that dowel-shaped wood might be very useful in making traps, and moreover that even if we had only brought the tool with us to sell, we could probably get up to 50,000gp for it, because it was an object from our futuristic world that would be completely unique in the fantasy world where we were going.

I realized that we were pushing the limits of the time we had left and needed to leave right away. But as the leader and I stepped out from the room where we'd consulted about the saw blade, something caught my eye. It was a tiny fluffy grey kitten sleeping cozily on its back, lying in the hallway against to the wall on our right. "Wait—just two seconds," I said to the leader, "Look!" And we knelt down and tousled the kitten's belly. I explained, "It reminds me of something Sam said: this is what we're fighting for." I was remembering the line late in LOTR where Frodo is losing heart and Sam reminds him "That there's some good in this world... and it's worth fighting for." Naturally my version involved kittens.

We then rejoin the rest of our group—which was more diverse in the beginning but by this point consisted of the full set of LOTR hobbits plus me as a random male one—and started down a lane. No sooner had we set out then I look behind us and see a group of fierce orcs, at least eight of them, less than fifty yards behind us and moving faster than we are, already closing in. Did we waste too much time with our preparations, losing our head start? I needed to act now, or our journey would be cut off before it began. Fortunately I recalled that I knew Ars Magica magic (all that practice in LDs paying off!)

Twisting to look back while still running at full tilt, I held out my hand and blasted a frost effect at the group of orcs: it created a slippery ice slick on the ground where they were running and also iced their bodies directly, covering them with a pale layer of frost and slowing them considerably. I knew it wouldn't last forever so I was already trying to decide what my next trick should be. A grease trap on the ground might be useful: the lane was narrow and walled on both sides, so they wouldn't be able to bypass it. Then I was trying to remember the mechanics of Ars Magica spells: were they limited by a specific pre-set quantity (like in D&D) or could they be chosen freely but the rate was restricted by a mana pool, or could they cast at will but it was just really hard to succeed at the roll? Around this time the dream must have despaired of my ability to transform even a thrilling adventure chase scene into tedious decision-making and option-weighing, and I woke up.

[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3]The following dream has been rated DV-R, by the DreamViews Association of America. It is intended for mature audiences. Parental discretion is advised.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3]This dream contains images of another member of DreamViews. This dream is posted with permission.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3]I attempted to find some good images for this post but my kids are always around, so just use your imagination.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][SPOILER="OPHELIA NAKED AND THE HOBBITS"][/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I have gone to camp, and the summer camp is located in myson’s middle school. Various older ‘teens’ are tasked with showing everybody totheir rooms, and I am led with a group of people down a hall which wouldnormally be located by the counselor’s offices in the middle school. The hallis painted grey and is lit by fluorescents which bring no life to the area. Iand four others are directed to the right and into what appears to be abathroom. It too is dimly lit and painted grey, though one wall has texturedwallpaper. There are several stalls along the back wall, and I guess that I ambeing led here to use the bathroom, which seems fine because I need to a littlebit.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]To my surprise the stall isn’t a bathroom but my room. Thewalls are wider than a normal stall, and the open space is filled with a widebed. One odd feature remains; there are still handrails on the walls, as ifstalls for handicapped users have been converted. “Oh. Okay.” are my onlyconscious thoughts on the subject.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Next to my stall are other stalls, all occupied with variouspeople, and some are co-ed. I happen to not be in a co-ed one and my roommateis OpheliaBlue, of DreamViews. We are both excited to be rooming together and weboth look forward to camp fun.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I have my back to the open door and for some reason I hadstarted taking off my clothes, possibly because I thought the stall was goingto be a bathroom. “Is everyone going to just stare at me?” I say, turningtowards the open door. Fortunately no one is around any longer and only Opheliais watching me undress. I’m fine with this, mostly because she is also female,but partly because I realize it’s time to go to bed.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Ophelia has long red-hair in this dream, a recent dye-job that looks amazing, and when I see her she is doubled-over, resting her chest on her legs, her breasts slightly squished against the top of ther thighs. She is wearing nothing, and I ask her how long it has been since she dyed her hair from its normal black. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]"About a week now, " she replies. "Do you like it?"[/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]"I do, very much!" I tell her, and I'm captivated by her body.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Climb in!” she calls to me, holding up the covers with onehand. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Do you mind if I do?”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“No, come on.” She replies, and I slip in under thecomforter and sheet. It feels nice and soft in the bed, and we snuggle closetogether.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Noticing how close we are, and how much both of us don’tseem to mind, I begin touching her hand, walking my fingers along her wrist andarm. She smiles at me, and soon we are both touching each other, leading up toa strong embrace. Holding each other feels good and we do the next thing whichcomes naturally, kissing.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Her lips are full, not thick, and soft, a pleasant sensationas my tongue dances with hers. This bed within a stall seems like an odd placefor passion but it doesn’t stop us. My hand snakes behind her head and playsaround with her neck and hair, while hers is along the side of my neck andmoving down. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I feel her hand on my breast and I kiss her harder, deeper,and grind my body into hers a little, allowing our heat to mingle and forcingher hand deeper. Occasionally one of us lets out a little moan of pleasure, andwe seem to be feeding off the desire of each other.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I break our embrace and move my face down her chest, whereher nipples are exposed and erect. I kiss her left nipple, smile a little, andplace my mouth directly on it and begin sucking and teasing the tip with my tongue.Ophelia arches her back and rises to meet my mouth, inviting me to continue andbring an arm behind her, adding support for our activities.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Just when everything was getting really hot and exciting, weboth find it is time to get up and go to class, or lunch, or some appointmentwhich never evolves as an idea. Ophelia leaves, though I can’t recall if sheput on a shirt. I remember her black bra as she left, and a glance she madeover shoulder towards me.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Realizing that everyone is gone and will be busy for sometime I decide it must be time to go looking for some important item, some kindof talisman that is hidden in another camper’s belongings. I head out from mystall, turn left and make my way to the room at the end of the hall, a muchwider room than mine with a couple beds in it, as well as furniture more suitedtowards a girl’s bedroom.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I walk past the bed, which is neatly made, and head towardsthe white dresser beyond. I begin digging through the drawers, looking througheach for something important, but I don’t find anything. I become aware thatI’m digging through the wrong set of drawers, and I turn to check the smalltable-drawer behind me. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]This drawer is also wooden, but seems unfinished, incontrast to the white painted chest I was looking through previously. On top isa lamp with a shade, and this is resting on a lace cover to protect the top ofthe drawers.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Inside I find paper, a pen, some light bulbs, a replacementlight fixture for an absent chandelier, and some feminine pads, but none ofthese are what I’m looking for. I get angry, and frustrated, not finding whatI’m looking for, and I storm back down the hall to my own stall. Here I beginlooking through Ophelia’s belongings, but again I find nothing.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]At this point I feel it is time to get back in bed, and Istart to, but I notice someone nearby who is in their bed and they are veryitchy. The girl is scratching viciously, and is attempting to contort into themost impossible positions to resolve her itch.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I lie down on the bed, and think that someone else must haveput itching-powder in the girl’s bed, when I discover there is a grainy powderin my bed as well. It looks like cayenne pepper, or a light-colored paprika,but it’s grainier, like powdered garlic. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]At first I kind-of dismiss the powder, knowing that I cansee it and it will not affect me, but as I lie down I conclude that I reallyneed to handle this situation, as the realization comes to me that everyone inthe camp now has this powder in their bed. Soon those people will return totheir beds, and they won’t be happy.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I get up and stride with purpose down the hall, this timeheading the opposite direction from before. I make my way around a couple ofcorners and at last find the culprits, two of the boys in the camp holding abag and giggling like assholes.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]One of the boys turns out to be a guy named Adam, one of theclose friends of the neighbor-boy down the street. I remember him as he lookedin his teens and it’s no surprise that he pulled this prank. He always was anasshole.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I confront him as an adult facing down a teen who hasclearly done something bad. “What did you think you were doing?! Do youunderstand that this could hurt some people?”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Adam shrugs and doesn’t seem terribly remorseful butapologizes and says he will go clean up the mess. I let him go and start towalk back to my bed/stall when I remember my urgency from before. I still havenot found the important item, and much is riding on me finding it.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]With the sudden decision that it’s better to say sorry andapologize after-the-fact than to own up to not finding the item, I leave theschool/camp in a hurry and run outside to catch the bus, which is alreadydeparting. It’s a charter-style bus, and there’s no way I can catch it.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Stop that bus!” I yell towards the Hobbits, which are alsodoing their best to catch the bus. Samwise Gamgee lands on top of the bus andpeeks upside down at the driver from the roof, which alerts the driver we areall running to catch up. He stops abruptly, and as we are about to board thebus the dream ends.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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