Recent DJ Posts

So my girlfriend is always right. NO MATTER WHAT. "Hey hun, you think that this color looks good on me?" Me- " Ikt looks great on you!" She says, "No. it looks like ****." Im always wrong. Even when im right. i'm always wrong. go fig for life...

02/20/11

"If I was perfect, I would date perfect."

"Wait, this isn't just about the sex. You like his personality. You like that he's conniving."

"Don't even..."

"Oh my God. You're sleeping with me."

Amber. Scare Factor: 1.

★★★☆☆

01/09/11

I just found a Star Wars game for my phone. I decide to try it out, so I'm tilting it left and right, figuring out the controls. Spacebar is jump.

I'm in the game. My surroundings are a dank green, covered in vines and rot. This was a school once. I try out the jump command, disappointed when I realize I have only first-level force jump. It doesn't matter; I'll be able to get around just fine.

Obi-Wan's shade appears beside me to explain my mission. This is strange, because I'm pretty sure I'm a past version of him. The force ghost fizzles out and disappears, exploding into four green blobs of goo. They reform and immediately begin to scuttle about, taking shape as Gravelings, mischievous reptilian creatures that arrange the accidental deaths of the people around them.

I strike with my single lightsaber, v-stepping in and twisting away after I cut through the torso of one of the gravelings. The creature goes still in shock, before it disintegrates in a flash of red sparks. With a sweep of my lightsaber, the others are scuttling away. I finish them off with force lightening.

Later, alone in an empty room, I suddenly realize that I'm dreaming. It feels like waking up. I try to remember my goals, but I come up blank. Fine - I'll run. I love to run in dreams. I take a running start and leap from a four-foot ledge.

In one reality, I can feel myself flying.
I drift away, into the blue, blue sky, heedless of the ceiling that used to be there. Simultaneously I'm falling, landing. I can feel the remnants of the other reality until all four of my limbs slowly reach the floor. I lay my forehead onto the cold cement and just breathe.

I see Zoe, walking away into a crowd of faceless people. I call out to her, chase after her. Her blonde hair swishes as she half turns, keeps walking.

We're sitting side by side, looking at the massive crowd milling about through the mall. She's counting the cash in a till.

"There's something you want to tell me," she says, flipping through a pile of five dollar bills.

"Yep."

She scowls, but doesn't turn to look at me. "Well?" she asks, "What is it?"

"You could say," I smile faintly, "That I have slightly more than platonic feelings for you."

Her hands go still. "Oh."

"But that doesn't matter," I say, leaning back.

"And why is that?"

"Because," I say, and I stretch my hands out in front of my face, "None of this is real."

And the dream dissolves into static.

Running. Scare Factor: 3.

★★★☆☆

10/28/10

Scrambling up wet black rocks, spray from the waterfall soaking me to the bone. Straight up to the top of the vertical cliff face. Looking out over the dark river snaking through the vast canyon, all sound drowned out by the constant roaring of the falls. Green, black, silver, and blue... It's a clear, crisp day, and I let the joy of the moment wash over me.

The water is too shallow for me to jump safely... but this is a dream. I'm already half awake as I jump, as I plummet. Icy tendrils cut through me as I hit the ice-green water with a splash.

I crawl through the interior of a small school bus surrounded by schools of fish. The sunlight from above barely reaches us, filtered through the water to be a dark yellow-green. I push through the wall of the bus, and it gives way like plastic wrap.

I breathe. Around me, in every direction, are silver fish of every possible size and description. A face appears through the murk. A mermaid, her tail flicking around my leg and then she's in front of me. We're reaching for each other and we're kissing and the scene fades...

And I'm sitting next to him, our knees touching as we laugh about some random happenstance.

Seaweed. Scare Factor: 2/10.

★★★★☆

12/07/10

The vibrant old neighbourhood straddles the line between dilapidation and gentrification. Places like this have colour and character completely unlike the sterility of the suburbs. Walking down the street, taking in the brightly coloured fall leaves on the unkempt lawns, you know that this is a place people consider home.

It's dead now. Shadows gather where they shouldn't beneath a cloudless blue sky. Trees whisper with the cold wind, and the world seems to be holding its breath, waiting.

Utterly boring, I decide, as I stare out the window of the second floor of an old house. I'm watching the shadows dance across the vinyl walls of a building across the alley, and I know that I'm being watched in turn. If I make a mistake, one small misstep, they'll attack.

I'm wondering what that step would be, because I'd really like to get it over with.

I see movement in the corner of my eye, and I carefully ignore it. Every light in the house is on, and they don't so much as flicker. I let out a breath, close my eyes.

He asked me to marry him. There will be a wedding on Friday, and I'm a friend, and isn't it terrible what happened to his fiancee?

A blade cuts through the air where my neck was. I'm halfway across the room in that instant, flickering through the shadow-world, disappearing and reappearing between blinks of an eye.

The shadows coalesce into a lizard scuttling across the walls, held in place by the rules of gravity that don't apply to them. It leaps from the far wall to the ceiling above me, strikes at me with its scythe-like tail and shrieks.

And I stand there, waiting. I will not be intimidated.

Shadows. Scare Factor: 3.

Hello, I'm on sleeping pills. This should be interesting.

09/01/10



I'm in the midst of an ill-defined series of sex dreams. I remember switching genders at least once. Something clues me into the fact that I'm dreaming, but I'm feeling a little distracted at the moment.

The dream is morphing. I feel disconnected, and there's a whole bunch of white space. A DC turns into something two-dimensional. A person-sized poster? A mirror? The image in the glass-slash-paper is still the same man. He doesn't seem concerned.

I'm sleepy.

Mirrors. Nomad. I wander outside, unconcerned with how I get there. There's a lonely cluster of pine trees, surrounded by a mish-mash of buildings associated with my childhood. The dirt has been tilled recently; there's not even a bit of debris left on the ground.

"You're in a forest, surrounded by black-barked trees." I recall, "There's a path. Something left." I pause, trying to remember. "Late summer."

I give up at this point. I was hoping to call up the requisite imagery just by reciting the words, but it looks like that plan's out.

I walk up the dirt path. There's an idea in my mind, that I need to shed my clothing to complete a ritual. The mirror is in the trees. I throw a light-coloured button-up shirt to the side and brush my hands over a tank top. I'm hoping that my shapeshifting won't go out of control, because I'm pretty sure I'm stuck halfway between forms. I'm not in the mindset of my character. Everything is out of focus.

Another distraction. I'm running down an alley, towards someone. Jumping a white fence. Trying to find trees at the center of a labyrinth.

Scare Factor: 1/10
Rating: 3/10

Attempt at WakingNomad's Serial Dream RPG.

Sorry that I haven't been reading anyone's dream journals, by the way. I don't have the energy right now, so I'll get at them when I can.

Cheers.

I walk down an empty road, then go climbing.

I'm walking down the highway west of Ixburg. There's a semi-trailer parked at the side of the road. I peer inside, but it's empty. Now that I look around, there are a lot of abandoned vehicles here. The ditches seem to be flooded, as well.

I duck behind the truck as a cop car rolls slowly by, scanning the area for life. Once it's gone, I keep walking.

The road west of Ixburg, in reality, is a mostly flat, straight piece of asphalt leading directly to a bigger highway. In dreams, however, it leads into a treacherous, cliff-like system that's made mostly of mud and would be very bad to drive in during a rainstorm. The Road typically leads to the various parks around Ixburg, the place my Grandma used to live, and Wood Mountain. It's a real place, there just aren't any mountains.

Later, I'll get an image of my mom trying to follow me down The Road in her car. She'll have to call me and ask for directions, and I'll tell her it's more about intent than the road you drive down.

shift

I'm lead climbing on an indoor structure. I haven't hooked myself into the first bolt, and this is a dangerous route to climb. If I fall now, I'll hit the protruding ledge directly below be, probably break something, and go tumbling all the way to the ground.



I look back at my climbing partner, who is... Misha Collins. Hello again. Guess who's turning into a dream sign?

Two men are arguing in the change-rooms. I'm one of them. The other guy is my boyfriend, I think, and he's... um... yelling very loudly that he isn't gay? What?

The Road. Scare Factor: 2.

Okay, guys. I'm done spamming the Recent Entries section, I promise.

Also, romance with a fictional character? Very lame. Thankfully, this can only end badly.

What greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause—to use their own knowledge against them?



I'm browsing through the sale aisle at Bootlegger when I feel the temperature drop. Slowly, I place the t-shirt I was holding back on the rack, and reach out with my senses, feeling at the presence that appeared directly behind me. I can feel a stare burning into the back of my head, and I turn around, keeping my hands visible and obviously empty.

Standing there is a dark-haired man in a trench coat, staring at me without blinking. Aside from the creepiness factor, he doesn't appear to be a threat, but I can see beyond the physical. Cold light bleeds from his form, barely contained within his vessel, and I check my initial impulse to attack.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I ask, gesturing with my hands.

His expression doesn't change, though I notice a slight twitch of annoyance. "My name is Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord." He says this tiredly, as if it's something he's had to recite a lot lately.



Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I've heard those words before. I'm still caught up in the feeling of deja vu when he says, "Luc, heaven has work for you."

The words jolt me back into the present. "Wait, what?" I say. "My name's ---."

"Of course it is." says Castiel.

I calculate my chances of being able to control the holy fire I'm about to summon. Blue flames start to dance across my fingertips and my claws lengthen in response to my irritation.

A ball of pure kinetic force slams into my side, sending me flying through the glass store-window. I pick myself up from the ground and spin to face my attacker, a man I barely get a glance at before I'm dodging another kinetic missile.

The force slams through the back wall of the shop, sending people screaming for cover. I roll into a crouching position and pull all the glass around me into the air. I throw the broken glass and the shards fly like bullets toward the attacker. Before they've even hit, I'm sending a wave of holy fire at him.

The incompatible energy burns ice-cold, sucking the heat from my bones. I collapse, shaking, fighting for breath. I manage to raise my head to look at the wall of fire that's burning on its own, and decide that it'll probably hold off the angels long enough for me to escape.

A hand grips the back of my shirt and hauls me to my feet. I look up at Castiel and groan.

"Bit of a trigger-happy bodyguard?" I complain, leaning on the angel for support. "Was that Lucifer? It looked like Lucifer." I mutter.

Castiel actually rolls his eyes. "We should depart. It would be best to avoid him for now."

"Oh no." I say, stepping back from Castiel on still-wobbly legs. "I can't take any more of your light-based heavenly magics right now. I say we walk."

Castiel just looks around our flaming surroundings. The building will probably fall down on us any second now.

"Fine." I say, closing my eyes and bracing for more hypothermia. I feel Castiel touch my shoulder, and a sudden lurch, and I open my eyes. We're standing in a three-car garage; concrete floors, white walls. The weirdest thing? I feel completely fine.

"Guess I've found an angel I'm not allergic to." I say, "Where are we?"

"Heaven."

"What?"

Castiel doesn't have time to answer. Flames are appearing from nowhere, licking up through the concrete floor and burning it away. The flames explode outward in a spiral and I shield as best as I can, but I can feel them lick at me, burning cold.

I'm running toward the door to the house, stepping onto the tile floor and slamming the door shut behind me. There's an inch of space left, and the door won't stay shut.

Last time, it actually closed the whole way, a little voice reminds me, but Lucifer is on the other side of the door, twisting the doorknob and I pull against the door, holding it shut from the inside. Lucifer is pounding on the door, causing it to rattle in its frame. I'm worried he might actually knock it down.

Of course, the fact that he hasn't is a little insulting.

"You know, I am way better at being you." I mutter.

I look around for something to brace the door with. The garage opens directly into the kitchen. Metatron is walking through on the far side, behind the island.



"Hey, Metatron! A little help here?" I say hopefully, still holding the door shut. It shudders against the onslaught.

Metatron looks down his nose at me. "Honestly, Luc, the lot of you are acting like children," he sneers, and continues on his way.

"My name is ---!" I shout at his retreating back.

The feeling of ice water is creeping back into my veins. I shiver and lean against the doorframe for support, gripping the doorknob with my right hand. I hear shouting from the other side of the door and the noise is lessening. Lucifer's not trying to get in.

When Castiel appears beside me, the room seems to get a little warmer. I'm clutching at the lapels of his trench coat before I even realize what I'm doing. The cold is fading away, though, and I decide that it's worth the awkwardness.

"Is he gonna back off?" I grumble into Castiel's shoulder.

Castiel tentatively places his arms around me. "Raphael understands that we need your help. So long as you don't burn down any more buildings, I think you'll be fine." He pauses, considering. "If he finds out that you mistook him for Lucifer, though, he might try to kill you again."

"Raphael." I blink, pulling away. "That makes more sense."

"I also recommend that you remain close to me," Castiel says, "Heaven's defenses seem to have an adverse affect on you as you are now."

I shiver. "Fair point. Now what the hell is it you want me to do?"

---

It turns out, the bright blue energy I've been playing with for the last few weeks has been wreaking havoc on Heaven's delicate ecosystem. For some strange, probably sinister reason, I'm the only one who can fix it.

Part of the living room has been torn away to reveal a crack in the dream-fabric. Blue electricity is spitting from the black chasm, and the angels in the room shy away from it every time it crackles. Castiel and I walk into the room without much fanfare, though the two angels hurry out as soon as we get there.

"Is there something I'm missing?" I wonder aloud.

"You need to absorb the Lux. We'll be able to repair the tears," says Castiel, pointedly not answering my question.

"So there is something I'm missing." I say, turning around to look at Castiel. "What happens to me if I do this?"

Castiel's face is deliberately expressionless. "You'll be able to withstand our defenses on your own for a time. Once we've repaired the tear, I'll return you to Earth and the Lux will fade away on its own."

I turn back to the tear, staring into the terrifying void, alive with crackling blue. It's breathtaking, in a way.

"---," he says, catching my elbow. I look back at him. "Please do this."

I smile and say, "I never could say no to you, Cas." It feels like I've said the words before.

Castiel pulls back like he's been burned, and I turn to the void, holding out a hand and bracing myself. I focus on the blue energy and pull -



It's like crashing headfirst into a star. The whole world is alive - burning - and I can see. I can see everything. I can see blue, blue, bright, light blue, and it's trailing after every living thing in the universe. I don't know. I don't know what it is, but it's not light, not like Heaven, not like the power Readers have. It's deeper, more primal, and it wants nothing more than to be free -

My world explodes with blue light, and my bits and pieces of awareness are interrupted by the intense humming of the Lux in my veins. I'm vaguely aware of strong arms pulling me away from the hungry black tears in the dream-fabric, of clutching at the rough fabric of a coat, trying to hold on to something tangible, before I'm torn away from him and left to calm down.

The next thing I know, I'm in the kitchen. I'm sitting on a stool at the island, propping my elbows up on the granite countertop, resting my chin on my hands. Most of my attention is on the movie being projected on the wall across the room. I have a vague recollection of choosing Dogma just to be obstinate.

Castiel walks in from the living room, looking neither more or less rumpled than he usually does.

"How'd it go?" I ask.

"We were successful, thanks to you," he says. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." I say, "Better than fine." I can still feel the Lux thrumming through my veins, offering me power beyond my wildest dreams.

As much as I might like Cas, he doesn't need to know that.

"We've done this before, haven't we?" I ask quietly.

Castiel looks away, and I catch his hand in mine. He meets my gaze, looking sad.

I let go of the breath I was holding. "Wish I could remember."

Our hands are still threaded together, and he squeezes my hand, says, "Let me take you home."

And we're standing at the center of an empty city square, bathed in orange under the afternoon sun. The cobblestones are warm beneath my feet, and the air is dry and still. Castiel and I are holding hands, and when I look up at him, my breath catches in my throat.

"We'll just do the same thing, Cas, over and over again. You know that."

"It has to be this way."

"It doesn't." I insist, but Castiel is already letting go of my hands.

"I'm sorry, ---." He raises two fingers to my forehead, preparing to erase my memories.

My force push sends him flying through a brick wall. Dust and mortar fly everywhere and the angel collapses in a heap. The rest of the wall falls in on him.

I'm standing with my palms outstretched, panting. I let my hands fall to my sides, and watch silver-white light leak from the pile of stones. I don't have much time.

I flee the square, running over the cobblestones and heading toward the cliff overlooking the rest of the city. I don't slow down; I leap from the cliff and focus on the rooftops hurtling toward me.

As I land, I blanket this section of the city with my black and red aura, sending my awareness out in all directions until only the blue-white energy is left. I can feel the pull to a place only I can find, and I close my eyes and let myself drift toward Lux.

Seven Minutes in Heaven. Scare Factor: 3.

I take the stairs two at a time, with Angel right behind me. We reach the top floor of the Ixburg apartment building, rounding the corner so fast I slide a bit. I practically crash into the door at the end of the hallway, and start to pick the lock telekinetically.

Angel stops me with a hand on my wrist. "What if your parents are home? We could be putting them in danger."

A bit of dread creeps into my stomach, and I try to ignore it.

"They haven't lived here for years," I say dismissively. I shake free and flick the door open.

The sound of thunder in the distance. "Quick!" I say, pulling Angel by the arm. I pull him into the apartment and slam the door shut.

My mom and dad are standing in the entrance, looking surprised. My brother is there, and Sam and Dean Winchester are off in the background.

"Mom. Dad." I say, "This is... great."

Silence.

"I want you to meet my boyfriend!" I say, threading my hand through with Angel's. "This is Angel. Angel, this is my mom and dad. Who are really not supposed to be here."

Angel is rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, but at least he's saving the "I told you so" moment for later. Ben, my brother, looks completely shocked, and the other Sam's face is melting.

In fact, everyone's faces seem to be shifting at random. Angel briefly flickers into Dexter, who flickers into... some random person I don't know, and Dean's not nearly as pretty as he usually is. Ben's someone completely unrecognizable, and I push through my parents into my room, waiting for the dream to stabilize.

I'm trying to figure out how to fit both a desk and a double-sized bed into my childhood bedroom when Angel walks in. He's looking somewhat normal again. At this point, we decide, we have to stay here. The Wild Hunt will tear their way through my family whether we're here or not, so we might as well stay to protect them.

I'm having a shower when, through the window, I see a group of my brother's friends running over the lawn. Apparently I'm in the basement. I run outside, fully clothed, and look back at the building I was just in. It's an approximation of my parents' duplex, though it's currently worn down and the entire back yard is yellow and covered in weeds and vines.

I spot the group running through the back yard and I give chase, catching up and tackling the one that's supposed to be Ben. I pin him to the ground, yelling that this is a dream, and the rest of the group stands to the side, eerily still.

"Could you give us a minute?" I say, hauling my brother to his feet. "I have some questions for my brother."

I'm pretty sure this DC isn't my brother, but rather an impostor sent by Mab.

And apparently I was right, because a second later, the group of teenagers shift into unearthly horsemen and hellhounds. Mab herself appears from nowhere, wearing red and riding a horse that just might be an animated skeleton.

Mab demands my surrender. I decline.

Half a dozen faeries rush me at once. I hit the first two with a rush of pure kinetic energy, liquefying their organs and taking them out of the fight. I disarm number three and stab him in the gut with his own green dagger, letting the body drop to the ground as I pull the weapon free and look to my next opponent.

And I see, again, a trail of bright blue energy following my movements, latching onto the Fae and pulling their energy toward me. One of the fairies' power is surprisingly in tune with my own, and I hear a voice telling me to use it.

At first, I think it means the dagger, but as I focus on the energy I'd just absorbed, I realize that this isn't the power of a foot soldier. This is bigger, and I feel myself drop away from the dream, ascending higher and higher until I can see all of the stars and the Queen of the Wild Hunt is just a speck I can only barely see, and I suddenly understand why she thinks so little of those around her, because everything is so small...

When I come to awareness, Angel is next to my bed.

I groan, shielding my eyes from the light pouring in the window. "Some help you were." I grumble.

He snorts. "While you and Mab were unconscious, most of the Fae just wanted to chop off your head and be done with it. I had a hell of a time getting you out of there alive."

"I woulda been fine."

"Right." He looks dubious. "And the Dreaming?"

I look up, pulling myself into a sitting position. "This is a dream, that was a dream." I sigh, "When I wake up, I'll be reality checking all day."

The Hunt. Scare Factor: 3.5. Low-level lucidity[/QUOTE]

I'm in a familiar place, messing with the controls on a high-tech piece of equipment (possibly the Stargate). My partner is a girl named Susan.

The building is a small house with fake-wooden paneling on the walls. There's old and worn furniture scattered throughout, mismatched and comfortable. There are a huge number of people in the house, milling about and chatting, but the atmosphere is mournful. Apparently this is a funeral or a wake.

I'm trailing beside Susan as she moves through the room talking to people. Suddenly, she half collapses, sobbing. I turn to our boss and tell him I'll take her away from the crowd.

I tell Susan that we're going into the lounge. I support her weight as we walk into the room and I have a strong feeling of familiarity with the location. I help her over to a couch and she lies down. I go over to sit on a recliner.

When I look up, I see that Susan has come to stand beside my chair. She asks if she can sit with me. I move over, and she sits down with me. I imagine the chair laying back and the footrest coming up. Susan and I lay down together, and I drift off to sleep.

I wake up, curled on my side in the chair. Susan is gone. I get up and pad through the living room that was full of people last night. I pop into my head into the den, and ask my dad (who's watching TV) where Susan is. He says she's probably sleeping in one of the bedrooms.

I stare at all of the people in the room, whose faces I can't really see. I notice that some of the people seem to be disembodied heads under various blankets all over the room. I dismiss the phenomenon as being normal for a dream, and go to find Susan.

Susan is, in fact, sleeping in one of the bedrooms. I close the door quietly, trying not to wake her.

When I step away from the door, I decide it's time to double-check my suspicions. I do a hand RC for the first time in a dream, staring at my left hand until the fingers move separately from my will and thick red blood begins to foam over the knuckles of my ring and middle fingers.

I'm somewhat disturbed, but I decide it doesn't really matter. I look at the digital clock on a VCR, which reads 1:45 PM. I decide that the time isn't unreasonable, since it was around 11:00 AM when I last woke up, and I had time to sleep in today.* I will the time on the clock to change, and it flickers. I repeat the hand RC.

I stretch out a hand in front of me, willing open a portal to a skyscraper. Instead of a portal opening in front of me, the door across the room to my left opens with a bang, letting the bright morning sunlight stream into the room.

I step out of the house and look around. There are mountains surrounding the town. The mountain I can see between buildings is a sloping, tree covered hill, and I'm happy to be on the mountainous west coast. The buildings are probably a couple centuries old. The church I can see has a spire reaching up toward the blue sky.


St. Paul's Church, the oldest building in Halifax, NS.

I repeat the hand RC, hoping to extend the dream. The ring finger on my right hand is missing, but when I look closer, I realize it's still there. The light seems to bend around it so that it's just barely visible, like the non-existent puddles on the highway in the middle of the summer.

There's nothing resembling a skyscraper nearby, so I throw open a few doors, hoping for a portal to a bigger city. I go through one, into brighter light, but I'm still more or less in the same place.

I'm just outside of town, looking at a delapitated building. There are no doors that don't have shelving inside, so I focus on the people who are there. Selina, a girl I graduated with, and an old man who looks kinda like one of my art school professors (Mike) are the only characters who don't fade into the background. They're picking things up, working on repairs to the heritage site.



Mike and Selina greet me, and ask what I'm planning to do. Mike says that if I'm planning to go into the woods, I should avoid making deals with the beings there. They can offer a lot, so it's a hard temptation to resist - the creatures could bring back any of my relatives from the dead.

I wryly assure him that I've had a similar dream before, where someone warned me not to bring back the original Elaine. By this point, I'm well aware that anyone I try to bring to life will come back wrong.

Mike is wistful, saying that if they would come back right, all of us would be willing to live without our souls, and to hell with the consequences.

I remember to do another hand RC, but I'm waking up. Everything fades and when I wake up, I already have my eyes open. I do another digital-clock RC, but I'm really awake this time.

Girlfriends, Dead People. Scare Factor: 2.

*It was around 12:45 PM when I actually woke up.[/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]