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I found myself in a forest. There was no sign of other life except for the vegetation. The area immediately around me had been cleared to make way for a mirror framed in silver. The frame had ornate carvings of drills and leaves on it. When I saw myself in the mirror, I had unkempt black hair. I realized I was dreaming. I had reached the forest outside Denn in the Land of Aud. I focused on what I wanted to look like and let the features morph in the mirror. The mirror’s surface started to bend toward me as my eyes turned green and my clothes turned into a black and gold robe. I had become the dream self I envisioned, Presence, and in doing so completed the first of WakingNomad’s tasks.

At this point, I tried to remember another task. Surely there were more, right? I stared intently into my deep, green eyes as I struggled to recall… Nothing came to mind. I decided I would just step into the mirror and see where it went. As my body merged with the mirror, everything went black.

06.09.2010

I Just Wanted a Drink. . . (DEILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

As I fall asleep, I hold onto the waking world using the annoying pop music blaring through my closed window. Stupid freshman events. . .

A forest. I need to form a forest. . .

Blackness surrounds me as I make the transition.

Green leaves swirl about my vision as I spin and fall into the dream. When everything solidifies, I find myself in a location filled with buildings like the ones you'd find on any college campus. Not enough trees. The tavern and the town are in the middle of the woods. Not satisfied with my surroundings I quickly level most of the buildings around me with a thought, and push the remains underground, replacing the plots with dirt and grass. In a similar fashion, I pull hundreds of trees from beneath the ground to the surface, shooting mounds of dirt high into the air.

Better, I think, This place still needs a river. Still using nothing but the power of my will, I bevel a long stretch of winding earth, snaking it around trees and near the few remaining buildings. As soon as I finish with that, I pull enough water up to create a decent sized river, and set everything in motion. That's good enough for me.

Walking through my creation, I try to recall Nomad's tasks. I can only remember the one about the Hoppy Brains Tavern, so I figure I'll start there. After walking a good distance I come across a very upscale building, with a fancy HB crafted in the open metal gate and metal sign hanging over the door. While my logical self told me this was not the place, something deeper--perhaps my character--was telling me this is where I needed to be.

In front of the door was a female hostess in a simple, white, long-sleeve shirt and black slacks. She stops me, asking if I had made a reservation. I do what my character would do and tell her the truth. Disappointed I wouldn't be getting that drink, I head off the property as the dream starts to collapse around me. . .

DEILD.

Back in the forest I had created, I find myself next to a large lake. Someone behind me gets my attention. Turning, I draw my blade from my side. Sure enough, it's another Shinigami, but his robes, although of traditional make, are white--definitely not standard uniform. He grins broadly, in an almost friendly manner, Zanpaktou in hand. In a flash, we cover the distance between us, crossing blades. My view cuts out, showing the two of us, and the glaring disparity between our uniforms. Sharp metal sparks brightly as the two of us clash. Our movements are so precise and coordinated, that neither of us can get an edge. To the untrained eye, we appear to be equals. . .

Standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the lake, Nomad is chastising me for the fight. He tells me that it's hard to look those we wish to kill in the eyes, "It's better to tear the baby from its mother's arms and immediately throw it off the edge of the cliff than it is to look at its face first." I think back to the fight with the mysterious stranger. I certainly didn't mean to kill him. Our fight, if you can even call it that, was more a friendly hello than anything else. Perhaps this was a person my character knew long ago. He definitely felt familiar. . .

"There are lessons you need to be taught." Nomad states bluntly.

"Who's going to teach me?"

"You'll find out," he says as he strikes me, hard, launching me from the cliff. Dropping through the air, I resist the instinct to fly, and instead prepare for whatever lies beneath the surface.

Crashing into the still waters, I can't help thinking about sharks, so what do I have the pleasure of facing down in this murky water as soon as the bubbles clear? Why, a twenty foot great white of course. Staying cool under pressure, I tear my blade from my side and sever its head from its body in one fell motion. Blood permeates through the water as the dead shark sinks out of sight; I sheathe my sword and rise to the surface.

A short while later, two mermaids approach me, and grab my arms. I don't struggle, assuming they're here to take me to my teacher. We reach the center of the lake, and from the depths, rises King Triton, only about 100 times larger, and with a more monstrous body.

His lesson consists of holding me underwater for long periods of time. I cheat and breathe normally, staying calm the whole time. Afterwards, there's a feast at a rather large, golden, banquet table.

Spock gets moody around a couple of girls, and storms off, leaving them for Captain Kirk to woo. Picard was there, too, but not really doing anything interesting.