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Apparently, this dream follows directly after #118. Also, I'm stealing titles directly from Mike Carey's Lucifer.

07/26/10

Sam and Dean want to kill the devil. I "help".

Sam climbs into the passenger seat of the Impala and slips on the pair of sunglasses resting on the dash. He lets his head fall back onto the seat and rubs his temples. (I marvel over the strange purple glow of our surroundings.) The driver's side door slams shut, and he lifts up his head. Dean has his hands clenched tight on the steering wheel, and stares into the desert horizon with his jaw clenched. Frustration seems to roll off him in waves.

They're back on the road before either of them says anything.

"So," says Dean, "We can either drive to Death Valley, or fly to the Himalayas." His tone makes it clear what he thinks of the idea.

"Death Valley's closer."

Dean raises his eyebrows, "With our luck, do you really think the devil managed to stay stateside?"

"I'd rather go to the Himalayas, personally." I say.

The car almost lurches off the road. Dean twists around in his seat to look at me. "Don't do that."

"We have wooden stakes in the trunk." Sam says mildly. "Trickster."

"When has that ever worked?" I ask. "Anyway, why are we going to the Himalayas?"

"We're not." growls Dean. His eyes are back on the road.

"We're trying to kill the devil." Sam says reasonably.

"Oh," I say, nodding along. "Why?"

"You know," says Dean, "Prevent the apocalypse, save humanity, that kind of thing?"

"There's a system of doors in Tibet that lead into other worlds. A psychic we talked to said that Lucifer left traces in the mountains that are somehow tied to these portals."

"The Nevernever." I say. "Yeah, we should check it out. Keep an eye out for vegan faeries."

"Right, I'm sure they're vicious little buggers," says Dean.

"Oh, they are. Somehow, human flesh satisfies the parameters of their diet."

***

"Nice office," says Dean, flopping gracelessly onto a black leather chair. He puts his feet up onto the desk. Bits of dirt flake off of his shoes onto the polished surface, and I hide a grin.

Sam just looks annoyed.

"Most of the objects in this room move along certain paths," I say, "Like levers. Get the right arrangement and the door will open right up."

"Unless, of course, you know a shortcut." The voice is British, and female, and I turn around to study her.

"Bela." says Dean. "Back from Hell already?"

"Someone had a job for me," she says, holding up a gun and pointing it at him, "And I am very good at my job." She smiles. "By the way, you might want to hurry. I informed security you were here."

Our eyes are drawn to the other hallway, where we hear a door click open. I look back. Bela's gone.

"God-fucking-dammit," says Dean.

"You figure out the combination," I say. "I'll distract him."

I stride into the hallway without looking back. Standing there, looking livid, is a man in a business suit. He's big and round, and his hair is white where he still has any. He slams the door behind him.

"Do you know who I am?" says the man, furious, "Do you know what I could do to you?" He pulls out a gun and points it at me.

"Not much?" I say, pretending to consider. "Relax. We need your door to the Nevernever, and then we'll be out of your hair."

"Impudence!" He snarls, "Just like my youngest son! I'll have you all killed!" He starts ranting about his plan to have me implicated in a gay affair with his son, followed by an elaborate murder-suicide.

I peer around the corner into the main office, since he's not actually paying much attention to me. Like I'd hoped, the Winchesters are gone. I turn back to the man, who by this time is ranting incoherently. I cough politely, hoping to get his attention.

He stops, panting.

"While that's a very... impressive evil plan (and you wouldn't have much trouble framing those two for anything) there is one tiny little flaw."

"And what is that?"

"I don't die."

The old man laughs and raises his hand - only to realize that he's no longer holding the gun. He freezes in shock and I wave a hand, banishing the Corrupt Corporate Executive to the late 51st century. He really won't like it there.

I take Bela's shortcut into the Nevernever, circumventing the need to play with furniture again. I appear at the top of a cliff covered in vegetation, which overlooks a hotel swimming pool and hot tub.

Sam and Dean stand on one side of the pool, facing off against Bela on the other side. I look for a way down, but there isn't one. I resign myself to jumping the fifteen-odd meters, knowing that there's no way for the fall to hurt me. I aim for the tile floor -

Only to land on the very edge of the pool. My feet impact the edge of the tile floor and slip off the edge into the water. I grit my teeth, feeling my dream-body reset itself, and I pull myself back onto the deck.

"You okay?" Asks Sam.

"Fine," I say, standing up and composing myself. "I don't die, as a rule." I notice Dean's weapon is trained on Bela. "Neither will she, you idiot."

As if in response, Bela spits a gob of blood onto the tile.

"Oh," I say, "They gave you a time limit."

"Apparently we're looking for different things," she says, her voice low, "Don't get in my way." She turns around and disappears into the cave system on the other side of the room.

There's a collective breath of relief.

"So," I say, turning to the boys, "Did you have a plan?"

"Find the devil," says Dean, "Shoot him in the head?"

"So, where is the devil?" asks Sam.

"I don't know," I lie with a shrug, "You guys said you wanted to go to the Himalayas."

"You said the devil came here!"

"It's what I'd do," I say innocently. "Anyway, plane tickets are in Sam's backpack. I have to run."

When I disappear, Dean is looking a little green.

***

I find him in a warehouse, beside a cracked-open wooden crate. Empty green wine bottles litter the ground, and Castiel himself - back in his original vessel - is sprawled out on the ground, leaning against the box. He has a half empty wine bottle in one of his hands.

I appear next to the crate, eyeing Castiel thoughtfully. I grab a full bottle and sit down on the concrete, popping the cork with a thought. Castiel's eyes roll up to look at me.

"Bad day at the office?" I ask, clinking my bottle of wine against his.

His face twists into a frown. "Being rescued by Lucifer didn't exactly set me up for a promotion."

"Well, I'd tell you they'll get over it," I say, taking a sip of wine, "But this is Heaven we're talking about. That lot can hold a grudge into eternity."

Castiel snorts. "You're not helping."

"Should I?" I ask, genuinely curious. "You wouldn't accept any advice from me. I'm the Deceiver, after all."

Castiel is quiet for a long time. I go steal chocolate bars from another section of the warehouse.

A Dalliance with the Damned. Scare Factor: 3.

WakingNomad provided the narration for the warehouse scene. Somehow. I think Microsoft Word was open in another window while I was experiencing the scene itself.

Also, I've somehow rewritten Season 4 of Supernatural subconsciously. So yeah.

P.S. I make up most of my dialogue. I don't remember the exact wording, so I improvise. I am a vile, evil attention-monger, I tell you.

I feel like I'm writing bad fanfiction subconsciously. I find it interesting that in the past two months I've had several dreams that carry on from previous ones.

Also, more Lucifer.

07/23/10

Castiel gets captured. I offer to help with the rescue.

"Let him go, you bitch!" I shout.

"Oh, Dean," says Lilith. "You don't understand. You've already lost."

I hate losing.

I throw myself back through the dream, back through the sewers that lead to the Hellmouth, zooming back over flooded streets and abandoned rafts and into a warehouse that I fought my way through not long ago.(1)

I arrive before Sam and Dean Winchester ever found themselves ambushed here, taking up precious time in our search. I can't afford that loss again.

A man is kneeling on the floor at the center of the warehouse. His face and arms are bare, and I can see designs swirling everywhere on his exposed flesh in patterns of black and blue. The tattooed man paints symbols on the floor, dipping his fingers into a wooden bowl filled with something red and sticky.



"Damian Masters." I say tonelessly. My voice reverberates through the building. Damian stands up, startled, and I step out of the shadows.

"Who are you?" He rasps, panicked.

"Have you ever heard the name 'Samael'?" I ask him.

He shakes his head.

"I'm an angel." I manage to say it with a straight face.

Damian falls to the ground and bows his head. I try not to let my irritation show. "What can I do?"

"We have need of Dean Winchester," I say importantly. "Allow him to leave. Kill the other one."

"Of course," he breathes, "The boy with the demon blood."

I walk across the room, deliberately scuffing the blood sigil where it won't be noticed. I roll my eyes. "So mote it be." I say in a mocking tone.

***

Dean steps onto the oversized raft, stumbling a little as it bobs under his weight. He turns around and catches the knife Sam throws at him. He breathes out slowly once he catches his balance again. (2)

"Watch it, Sam. I don't want to go diving for this stuff." He rubs his eyes and sighs. "Be careful."

"You're doing the dangerous part," says Sam, rolling his eyes. "I'm just casting the spell here because it's on the right ley lines."

"Other people thought so, too," warns Dean. "That blood on the floor still looks fresh."

"Get on with it, Dean. Castiel's not getting out of Hell on his own."

Dean unties the rope from the pier and casts off, sending his brother a sarcastic two-finger salute. Sam grins and salutes back. He only watches Dean drift off for a moment, carried by the current through the flooded city. He picks up a canvas bag and spreads its contents over a table, ready to start the ritual.

He gets so caught up in his task that he almost ignores the little warning voice that goes off in his head. He dodges to the side as a fireball slams into the table, sending his ritual ingredients up in flames. Sparing no time for disappointment, he runs over to where the guns should be, only to find them... gone.

He turns around to face the other man. The tattooes on his face and arms, Sam thinks, they probably let him manipulate energy. The man's face is twisted into a triumphant grin, and Sam looks down, realizing he's at the center of the blood sigil on the floor. The tattooed man raises a hand, covered in glowing swirls, and presses it to the concrete.

***

His raft floats through the flooded city, guided by a spellbound current. The shadows of buildings jut out of the water, reaching toward the orange sky as if in their death throes. Barnacles cling to the rotting and rusting wood and steel. Some of the buildings have collapsed in on themselves, leaving twisted metal sitting low to the water. Dean steers carefully around them.



"Dean Winchester, yeah?"

Dean spins around with the knife raised. "Yeah? And who are you?"

The boat tips a little, and I look back at him, unimpressed. "I'm here to help," I say with a smile. "You can call me Lucy. Things will get confusing, otherwise."

"Really. Okay, Lucy," says Dean, "Why should I trust you?"

"You probably shouldn't," I tell him honestly, "But I owe Castiel a favour, and I pay my debts."

Dean eyes me suspiciously, but he lowers the knife.

"Excellent." I say. "Now, we have a problem."

"Of course we do."

"Castiel's vessels have gone missing."

"His vessel? The guy he's possessing?"

"The daughter as well. You haven't met them yet?"(3) I receive an uncomprehending stare as my answer. "Whatever. He needs a vessel, and you're it." A pause. "Don't look at me like that, it's only temporary."

"Why not you?" asks Dean, "That'd be a good way to pay back your 'debt', wouldn't it?"

"How many humans do you know that can teleport onto a raft in the middle of nowhere?" I ask impatiently. "I'm an occupied vessel; it doesn't work that way."

Dean is silent as I latch onto the decorative post of a balcony and bring the raft to a stop. "We're hee-ere," I sing-song quietly, stepping onto the concrete deck. Dean shoots me a look, hand hovering near the gun concealed under his jacket.

We step through the archway, into a cobblestone hallway filled with rot and mold. Dean's nose scrunches in distaste, but I can't smell anything. A rusted metal ladder is built into the opposite wall, and I make a motion towards it. Be my guest.

Dean eyes the ladder. "I thought we were going into the sewers."

"We are." I confirm. Dean looks at me askance, and I roll my eyes. "We're walking towards a gateway to Hell! You can't expect reality to work properly."

Dean makes a disbelieving noise, but moves to the ladder and starts climbing up it. I follow a few seconds behind, looking up to track Dean's progress.

Wow. Those are some really nice jeans.

Climbing up brings us a level down, and we trudge through muddy water and orange-lit brick until we find an opening in the wall. Dean and I stand on either side of it, catching our breath and shaking out our shoes.

"Are you ready?" I ask. "Lilith's on the other side."

"Ready as I'll ever be." Dean shoots me a grin. We step through the opening.

It's bright. The gateway is orange-white, shedding the room with stark light and bleaching out the red brick. Lilith stands near the doorway, hands clasped loosely over her white dress. Her blonde hair flutters in a non-existant breeze.

I squint against the light. "Claire Novak?" I say incredulously. "Oh, irony of ironies. Nice one, Lilith."



The little girl smiles pleasantly. "I thought it was fitting, using an angelic vessel as my own." She holds a hand up to the light, studying her fingers. "It was actually quite simple to burn out the angelic protections."

"You're borrowing from Azazel." I muse, "His bastardising the Winchester line."

"Demon blood," snaps Dean. "Can we get on with it? If this is a seal, what did you need an angel for?"

"An angel?"

"Castiel." I supply helpfully.

Lilith laughs, her voice clear and deceptively innocent. "Oh, of course," she says, "Heaven has him, and I have no more need of opening seals. Lucifer walks the earth."

"What?"

"Castiel's superiors were unhappy with his exercising free will," I state calmly. "They're currently re-educating him."(4)

Dean rounds on me. "Whose side are you on?"

"Huh. Good question. I'm still going to need at least one of the vessels." I say to Lilith.

"Can we go back to the bit where Lucifer is free?"

"Dean, your presence is extraneous at the moment," I say, tilting my head sideways as I look at Lilith's teenage meatsuit. "Shut up."

Dean looks about ready to hit me, but I wave a hand and he collapses.

"My lord?" says Lilith carefully.

"Not today." I say, "Tell me, what is it you're after?"

"The end of all things." She responds immediately. "The apocalypse, which you are destined to bring about." (5)

I smile as I approach her. "Destiny," I say, placing a hand on her head, "Is bullshit."

Lilith's demonic form - grey and wispy and spiralling out of control - is forced out of Claire Novak's body. The light grey smoke hurtles toward the Hellmouth, screaming. It stills a second, pulling with all its might against the vortex, before succumbing to the orange-white light, falling back into Hell. The gate closes, dousing the room in shadow.

I will definitely regret doing that at some point.

I push the thought from my mind. In the next moment, I'm pulling on an incorporeal thread, tearing Castiel away from the torments of Heaven and back into human form. Blinding white light fills the room once more, before focusing on the girl.

Castiel opens her eyes.

"Lucifer," she says magnanimously.

I grin. "Hey, Cas. You should probably go rescue your other vessel. And Sam Winchester. Dean's fine," I say, seeing Castiel look over at the unconscious man.

There's an awkward pause.

"Why did you -"

"You let me go." I say, "Now we're even." (6)

I disappear without another word.

Castiel stares at the spot for a moment, before going over to Dean and tapping him on the forehead.

***

When Castiel appears back at the warehouse, supporting a groggy Dean Winchester, Sam is leaning against a table with his arms crossed, facing the tattooed man. The man is currently trussed up and tied to a chair, his head lolling at an awkward angle. Sam doesn't take his eyes off him.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Dean demands, inconspicuously taking his weight off of Castiel's shoulders.

"I have no idea," says Sam, "He attacked me, tried to activate a blood sigil." In response to Dean's worried look, Sam shrugs. "It didn't work," he says, "The outer circle was broken."

"Well, that was lucky," says Dean, sounding suspicious. "Anyway, we've got bad news. Cas?" He looks around, only to realize that Castiel is already gone. "Damn it."

Devil in the Gateway. Scare Factor: 4.

1. This dream continued on from a previous one that I don't properly recall. I think I was Dean. Sam and I fought Masters, the tattooed man in the warehouse, but it slowed us down considerably. Sam still stayed behind to do the ritual, but it completely screwed things up for us. When I replayed the dream, I kept Masters from attacking Dean, and sabotaged the ritual at the same time. I think.

2. A good portion of this dream was in the third person. My character wasn't spying so much as I was watching cutscenes.

3. Supernatural 4x20 "The Rapture", which aired over a year ago. We meet Castiel's human host, Jimmy Novak, and his family. Claire, the daughter, is briefly possessed as well.

4. Actually happened in the TV series. Same episode.

5. This was Lilith's motivation in Mike Carey's Lucifer comic series.

6. I can't believe I remembered that. According to this dream, Castiel let me beat him in our last fight. I resent the implication.

In other complaints, why is teleporting so easy during non-lucids?

Also, I haven't been online much for the past couple of weeks. Summertime! I'll do my best to get caught up with everyone's DJ entries.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

I scrutinize my real life appearance for effectiveness as an assassin. I conclude that I will easily be able to infiltrate the corporation.

I get an apartment in Halifax that's mostly identical to my old one. Apparently I'm subletting from someone else, though, as I keep finding old-lady clothes around the place. It's also furnished, which is nice, even if the furniture is ugly as hell.

I'm Dean Winchester. I help Sam choose a truck and trailer so he can go drive off into the prairie sunset. The theme of this dream is basically that it's time to let Sam go on his own. This is a much more peaceful scenario than the Supernatural finale.

I'm a guy with a mullet, driving a semi-trailer. I'm about to be accused of a crime I didn't do, and I'm trying to skew the evidence in my favor before they think to come after me. Maybe I had an in-dream premonition, or maybe I'm on another dream-loop.

I'm mad at the really cold weather, then I'm mad at the really hot weather, then I'm mad at the really cold weather, and oh my God, that really is freezing. Warmth now please.

I'm living with my second cousins, and also fighting my brother for one of the basement suites. His friend gets it. Damn.

One of my cousins finds out something about my character (I don't know what), and she takes her sisters and leaves.

I'm driving along the highway, now, but the lane I need to be in keeps changing, and I'm cutting people off. I end up at a McDonalds, because there's something I need to pick up there.

I'm inside. The place is empty, and isn't being used as a restaurant. Something about a box. I check my inventory and see a vat of cotton that I have to sell later.

The city is being evacuated. I have to hurry. I go upstairs, blue and red lightsabers drawn. I wonder if my cousins could have been party-members if I hadn't scared them off. Oh well, I'm still near the beginning of the game.

I enter one of the offices and fight the people inside. I win.

RPGs. Scare Factor: 1.

July 1, 2010

Happy Canada Day, fellow Canadians.

People who walk into your life and claim to be a long lost relative are not to be trusted.

Sam and Dean are on a hunt with yet another member of their missing family unit. Let's call her Sue. I think I'm Dean for most of this dream.

The three of us are after a ghost. Sam's in danger, but Sue pulls him out of the way.

It turns out she's a demon. She uses a variation on the Enochian banishing sigil (for angels) to send us careening straight into our respective heavens. "Oh, I'll be fine." She says, "I'm going the other way."

From the third person, I'm watching Dean in his heaven, fixing cars. This weird tentacle being made of energy shows up and acts as the MS Office paperclip. You know the one.

Dean's becoming increasingly annoyed by the little helper. Meanwhile, I'm trying to force myself/him to remember what's going on so we can get out of here and find Sam.

---

I'm in Quickton, taking lessons from a guy with a rusty red truck so I can become a driving instructor. I'm driving the truck, and a guy makes fun of me for it. Then we go protest something outside of Tim Hortons.

I'm driving down grid roads with the truck. I'm going to meet someone. I have to pull over to take a piss, but I decide I should wait until I wake up.

I'm living in a house that I'm helping my parents build. We've already moved in, but we haven't finished building the second floor. My bedroom is up there, so a lot of climbing is involved.

FA. I wake up in the basement of my house in Ixburg. There are little bugs crawling over my blanket. They're about a centimeter long and they look like cockroaches crossed with shrimp. I try to ignore them, but I don't like them.

I'm a ten year old boy in boot camp. I have an upper bunk, and the ladder to get there is probably twelve feet tall. I'm having the time of my life. There's a warning on the top step of the ladder. It says that if you let your kids climb on this, you're a bad parent. The ladder falls backwards and catches on one of the other beds. I'm still hanging on.

I'm telling all my DCs that I've just had a brilliant idea. You know that holographic keyboard?



We should make a box the size of a rubix cube and project games from it. It'd be brilliant. I conjure up a prototype and place it on the desk. Then my POV runs through various games in full-screen.

Cousins. Scare Factor: 2.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

My journey from ambitious underling to rival archangel.

I'm sitting at my desk, poring over some ancient text, but my mind is elsewhere. My team has just made a fascinating discovery, a book that could unlock ancient magics unknown even to the angels. Whomever can harness its power could go so far as to take over the world.

Unfortunately, we're working for Lucifer (from Supernatural). It's not by choice, I can assure you.


Sandman!Lucifer could kick your ass.

I hear the alarm go off. Immediately, I'm running down the stairs to our secret underground laboratory. The place is collapsing; dirt is streaming from the walls and rocks are falling around me. I run to the desk where Lucifer was working earlier, and grab the grimoire, the codex (decoder), and the journal that he was translating it into. Beside the books is a black LED keychain that's supposed to be a portkey. I pick it up, but nothing happens.

I'm running for the exit, not sure if I'm going to make it. I'm at the entrance hallway, but all of the main-level exits are blocked. An old man - possibly Amon - appears beside me. He says that there's a ladder I can use.

Sure enough, there is. I climb up the ladder - Amon is behind me - and we both make it out.

Lucifer is in the common area, sitting at a table with his head in his hands. He looks really mad - probably because the grimoire is lost. I try to turn down another hallway, but he sees me and the grimoire before I have the chance to leave. Suddenly, Lucifer seems very pleased.

Once we're out of sight, I turn around and smack Amon over the head, wondering why he had to take us directly past Lucifer. Comprehension dawns on his face, and he asks me if I was trying to betray our boss.

Yes! Obviously!

Amon wants to know if I really think I can get away with it, but I shrug and tell him I'm not worried.

Lucifer corners me later and asks why I'm not grateful that he brought me back to life.

What? Of course I would be... oh, I remember now. My character was really mad for some reason.

"Thanks for that, by the way," I say. I'm still taking over.

---

I'm at some Misha Collins fan-thing. Everyone around me is all excited, but I have things to do. I go and try on jeans in a store. They don't fit, and I'm tired of clothes-shopping already.

---

On a bus, I see Lucifer again. He's avoiding me. I try to unobtrusively sit beside him, but he switches seats when people get up to leave.

I see Sally, from school, is on the bus too. This can't end well.

Why am I not worried about myself, though?

Oh, right. I'm Michael. Duh.

I tell Sally that she has to get off the bus. People are turning into piles of maggots around us, and she has to leave before she does too.

"Ask the bus driver to open the door." I say.

She points to the bus driver, who's a pile of bugs covering all the controls.

I run over to the front of the bus. I plunge my hands into the squirming mass of maggots (and I can feel them wriggling all over my skin), and pull the lever for the door to open. Sally gets off the bus and starts running.

All of the maggots on the bus are streaming towards Lucifer, somehow going to power him. He looks weak right now, though. He's lying down on one of the seats, and I go over to him.

He asks me if I'm going to give one of those good-guy speeches about love an acceptance. I tell him that just because I turned out to be an angel (again) doesn't mean I'm one of the good guys.

I call up a small amount of light energy to cleanse the pile of bugs. It starts off tiny, and gets bigger and bigger...

---

I'm in a dark hallway with the same LED keychain from earlier. The small flashlight doesn't actually create light, though. When I click it once, the lights go on. When I click it again, the lights go off. Every second time I click it, something scary happens in the hallway, and if I'm in the hallway when it happens... who knows?

Holly, from high school, shows up, talking about Sailor Moon. I'm at the top of the staircase, and I think she's one of my enemies. When she's almost at the top, I telekinetically blast her down the stairs.

She gets up and informs me that it wasn't very nice to do that. I shrug and apologize, sheepish. Apparently she actually is on my side.

---

I'm watching clips of a cartoon. It's about animals running farms. I think this is ironic, and the cows suddenly start acting strange.

There's a little yellow chick trapped in a flipped-over bus that's about to explode. The other animals are trying to figure out how to rescue him.

One of the adults holds up a diagram of a kite, which the people inside the bus can hold onto and fly out the door with.

I'm flying with the kite over a sea-side city. I'm just over power lines, and I don't want to hit them. I'm on top of a marina. I have to make it past the cruise ships, out to sea so I can fall into the water.

The Devil You Don't. Scare Factor: 4.

My dreams lately have been very fuzzy. Granted, if I remembered the entirety of this particular dream, I believe my head would explode.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

I'm the writer and the reader and the characters in the book all at once. "I finished reading the book," I tell someone, "And I was all 'I can't wait for the sequel!', but I still have to write the goddamn sequel myself and I have no idea what happens next!"

I flip over the book and look at the cover. It says, "Supernatural" at the top, above the actual title. Of course I'd be writing for a franchise, I grouse. I flip the book over again, and it's suddenly pages and pages of notes on loose-leaf paper.

Blue is Castiel and orange is someone else, a woman with an angel name. Lucifer? Samael? I'm planning a trip to Squamish by bus, but I haven't left Ixburg.

Also, notes from earlier in the night read, "You know, I actually am going to have to explain this Misha Collins obsession. I waffle on apparent evilness."

Hack Writers. Scare Factor: 2.

ETA: I have proof that Collins stalks his online stalkers. I'm very concerned.

i dreamt that I was in my school playground and i was barefoot, and wherever i stepped the ground was poited and spiky. After a while of constantly jumping in pain, i turned into a crow and flew for a half-second, after which i woke up.

I dreamt that I was in my school and I could create perfect copies of any person or object. i was very excited the whole time and whenever i used this dream power I had a great feeling.i remember duplicating a football and a bathroom, then I woke up.

In which Dad's driving lands the family in deep water. I think I saw this on Mythbusters once.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Give me five minutes, Dean - I just got off work."

I head inside and pull off my white t-shirt, and get changed into a black t-shirt and jeans. When I come back outside, Dean (and his dad's truck) are gone.

I call Sam, because Dean never answers his phone. He's laughing at me.

"Did he just ditch you again?"

"Apparently. That bitch."

***

Uncle Roy and his daughter, Natasha (who appears to be about three, here), are running up backwards escalators that are taking them to our family reunion. I join in, jumping over railings and taking the most efficient route.

I'm at the house, looking over the food table for vegetarian stuff. A younger version of myself is standing on the other side of the room. I go over to talk to zir*, but zie's avoiding me. Eventually we have to pose for a picture together, arms thrown across each other's shoulders. Well, the universe didn't explode, so we're doing fine.

I think up elaborate reasons as to why there are two of us, but I don't remember what they were.

***

I'm in the car with my dad and Roy's three daughters. They're all under ten in this dream. We're driving through a city, maybe Halifax, and I'm giving my dad directions from the back seat.

"Okay, now you're in the wrong lane," I tell him. "Turn right here."

The road takes us down to the harbour, and I tell my dad to turn left.

Instead, he decides to do a powerslide down the dock.


Oh god, oh god, we're all going to die.

We've almost made it to 180 degrees, and I decide to trust my dad, because he's a better driver than I am, really. I'm still gripping tight onto the seat, watching the world spin around us.

The momentum throws the car right off the dock. We land with a splash in the deep water, and I have a moment of disbelief. Seriously, my brother just totalled our last car.** Now this?

I'm searching for my bag, knowing that there's something important in there.

Found it. I'm holding a flashlight.

My dad tells me to aim for the window controls next to me, and smash them with the flashlight. Three of us start pounding away at our respective window-ledges with our respective flashlights. I stop for a second and see pedestrians on the boardwalk, watching us dumbly. The car is half full of water by now, and I hope one of them has the sense to dial 911.

I smash through the controls and the important wire. The window disappears. I help the girls out of the car, as the water has almost reached the window. I slide out of the window, and my dad is right behind me. I swim to the dock and pull an unresponsive (but physically unharmed) Natasha from the water.

Later, I talk to someone about the reason I didn't panic. I shrug and tell him that I figured someone would rescue us if we couldn't get out. He's doubtful, but I tell him that it didn't have to be true - it was something I told myself so I'd be able to function.

Sinking Cars. Scare Factor: 4.

*ILU, gender-neutral pronouns.

**No, really.

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 Dean Winchester (again), and we're on a hunt. We have to go through Lady Gaga videos frame by frame. Apparently there's a reason for the scene in "Bad Romance" where she's crying.

Also, I had the song stuck on a loop in my head after waking up. Ugh.

Lady Gaga. Scare Factor: 10!

Okay, 2. Scare Factor: 2.

A dream occurs on two levels of reality. In one, the cast and crew of Supernatural go about their daily business of making an awesome TV show. In another, I go about my daily business of building houses. This gets confusing when suddenly I'm Misha Collins, calmly vacuuming up sawdust in the basement while a highly amusing PA briefs me on whatever they're doing next. Also, a suspended ceiling puts itself together in the writer's room and the baseboards I've been staring at for the last few days drift in and out of existence at eye-level.

shift

I'm in a den, or a living room, and I think this was a mall a second ago. Everything is in dark shades of brown and black. I'm sitting on a brown leather couch facing a wide-screen TV, and along the opposite wall is a set of dark-stained table and chairs. Beyond the table is another room, which is completely white. Right now, it might be a kitchen, but it's about to turn into a slaughterhouse.

I have my laptop open on the couch, though I'm not paying much attention to what I'm looking at. I move over to the table when a ten-year-old boy wants to flip through the channels on the TV, looking for his favorite cartoon. When I look back, he's pulling up a page on another laptop, which is a list of his favorite cartoons, put together by his dad. A static image of one of the characters shows up on a projector behind the couch, and I start drawing it.

It's later. A team of vigilantes/ex-minions have found out what's really going into the meat made by this factory. They/we are standing around the owner, backing him into the white room. The boy* is wearing some kind of Kickass-style costume like the others in the room, and is staring at his father with an incredibly detached expression.

*I wouldn't worry about the little sociopath. I get the feeling that the vigilantes are all puppets on a string to him.


Practically the Antichrist.

Two men grab the owner and force him toward the wall. He's shouting at them and struggling to get away, but when his back hits the wall, it latches onto him and forces him down a tube. I drift through the wall, and I can see the human sized plastic tunnel he's trapped in. Pistons are forcing the right side of his body, as he's alive and screaming, against the meat grinder. His right arm, part of his leg, and the edge of his scalp have been torn apart by the machine when I see his expression shift, angry but resigned, and the machine eats into his brain.

He probably wishes he'd designed the machine to kill its victims less horrifically, I muse. A straight-razor, perhaps? The machine rearranges itself on my whim, and I wonder if cutting the throat upside-down or right-side-up would be more effective.

Three women are standing in the same room, which, maybe, is supposed to be a different place entirely? They talk about the dead owner's eldest daughter, who has sworn revenge on us/them for killing her father, his right hand man, his lieutenants, the captain who exported the shipments, the cleaning lady, and possibly me, considering I'm short of a body at the moment. Also, for kidnapping her little brother, who I'm half-sure started the coup anyway.

They laugh a little and say they have to get back to camp, so they jump out of the building and land on the ice of a half-frozen river, and start speeding down it as if they're on a slide. I have to keep nudging them closer to shore so their momentum won't carry them out onto the middle of the river, which is slushy and wouldn't hold their weight.

One person crashes into the slush anyway. No one pays attention, and I have no idea if s/he gets out alive.

The women arrive at a rocky shore where a bunch of colourful tents are set up. No one brought chairs, so someone fetches pillows for the half-frozen trio to sit on, and blankets to keep them warm. I, still incorporeal, follow the guy who gets them and see a whole pile of pillows lying on the ground.

Oh, and someone's getting married.

Soylent Green. Scare Factor: 3.5. Reaction: Lucidity, you escape me. And the meat grinder thing was pretty fucked up, too.

ETA: Oh! I know! I know! It was green, and had a giant lizard's head and sharp teeth that changed direction to spiral inwards and then fan out, and I knew I was dreaming because all of my dreams are just that fucking insane.

I can feel it nudge up against me, feel its scales and warm breath as it bumps its nose against my shoulder, and I'm not afraid because I know this is a dream...

And that's all I remember.

Ariel, Samael, Rick.

The group of survivors have made it to an open courtyard surrounded by stainless steel fencing. The entrances are similar to cattle corrals, and apparently zombies aren't smart enough to get in. The horde is separated from us, but a few renegade zombies are still trying to eat us.

"Oh my god, just shoot them already!" shrieks a girl with dark hair. There are probably half a dozen of us, but only two guns. A shotgun blast goes off, taking out the zombie. The man holding the gun starts reloading. The blonde woman with the other gun lays down cover fire.

One of our members is somehow a conscious zombie, fighting off other ones and getting bitten in the process. The bites don't bother him much.

A zombie no one else seems to have noticed is sneaking up on one of the youngest, unarmed, members of our group. I curse, and rush the zombie, blocking the kid from its view. The thing immediately starts in on me, and, stupidly, I let it close enough to get in a bite.

"Fuck!" I shout, calling the attention of the rest of the survivors. I grab the zombie's head and twist the neck, severing the spinal column. The zombie drops limply to the ground.

I put a hand to the side of my neck, wincing when it comes away sticky with blood. I can already feel the wound starting to close. I look up, noticing that the man with the gun is eying me speculatively, his shotgun fully loaded and pointing straight at my head.

"Rick," I say, warning in my voice. "Don't even think -"

He pulls the trigger. My head explodes in a spectacular fountain of red chunks.

I come to some time later. I sit up in the grassy field, and I'm covered in my own blood. I purge the various fluids and chunks of brain matter with a thought, and stand up, cursing Rick's entire family tree as I do.

Already, there are more zombies shuffling toward me.

They scurry away when I send a telepathic, high pitched whine toward them, scrambling what's left of their brains and causing blood to pour from their ears. The closest zombies collapse immediately, the rest stay away.

I head toward the stone building. A school, before the apocalypse hit, and by coincidence, the perfect place for a bunch of insects to make their last stand.

---

The blonde woman is on edge the moment she sees me. "You're dead." she accuses, bringing her own shotgun up to fire. "Sam, I'm sorry, but -"

"You know, Ariel." I say, casually swatting the gun away, "That didn't work last time."

Ariel lowers the weapon when she hears my voice. "How the hell?"

"None of your goddamn business." I say brightly. "Now, where are the others?"

She's suspicious. "You know Rick meant well, right?"

"By shooting me in the head. I know. And I considered slaughtering every one of you without mercy," I say, willfully ignoring Ariel's horrified expression, "But the world would be so boring without any humans to torment."

Ariel makes a choked sound.

"So let's call an end to your little scouting mission," I say, starting down the concrete tunnel, "And go find the others."

If I can't kill them all, I can at least look forward to the expression on Rick's face.

The Devil You Know. Scare Factor: 2.

ETA: It was just like this, actually.[/QUOTE]

I'm in the local theatre with a group of girls. Apparently we're about to play out The Handmaid's Tale, and as I'm not a fan of that particular dystopia, I'd rather not. As soon as everyone's asleep, I wake up another girl and start running.

In retrospect, it would have been smarter to leave her behind.

We're fleeing down a gold-gilded hallway toward a mirror I plan to use as an escape. (The mirror really exists in my parents' house.) I see a shadow run through the mirror and I attempt to follow, but I smack against it and push on the glass. I give up quickly; there's someone hot on our heels.

We run into an empty-of-furniture bedroom, and begin to literally climb the walls looking for a way out. The closet is an escape route. I turn around to look at my fellow escapee. She's wearing the dream-avatar I was just using, complete with wild orange hair. I'm a brunette now.

There's a third girl in the room with us.

shift

I'm in a high-tech facility, a space station, and I'm alone. I pickpocket an Asian woman's key card as I bump into her, and slip through a guarded door. The guard on the other side of the door, and asks for ID as I come through. I hand him the card. I strike at him. I take him down quickly, before he has a chance to call for backup.

My presence has raised alarms. They don't know where I am, but I'm being chased. I need to move quickly.

There's a control panel in the next room. It's triangular, with an assortment of round buttons that don't make any sense. Since I'm dreaming, only intent is important, and it doesn't matter which buttons I push. I focus on my goal, pressing buttons at random.

This dream is exciting, so I don't abandon it. I head for the nearest set of double doors leading to a staircase.

I find a scientist/doctor who's actually on my side. I'm sequestered in her office, and nobody will know that I'm here for a while yet. She takes a sample of my skin cells and runs a test. Surprisingly, the results indicate that I'm completely human.

"Where's a scalpel?" I mutter. I take an x-acto knife off of the nearest counter and push the blade into my palm. Blood pools into my hand.

"Now look," I say to the doctor. I brush the blood away from the cut, showing completely intact skin below.

I'm trying to stay in-character as someone with a healing-factor. I move over to the sink, washing the quickly congealing blood down the drain. My logic is that you can do all sorts of nasty things to someone if you have their blood.

I'm in the cafeteria. I'm looking for a free-run sequence. I run up the wall to an upper balcony, pulling myself up into the rafters and flinging myself forward without losing momentum. I'm trying to go up and up and

shift

Sam and Dean Winchester are saving people and hunting things. I'm playing as Dean while trying not to get Sam W. mixed up with my username. A man needs help rescuing his daughter and his pregnant wife from the evil scientists several Levels down. We take the elevator from Level 7 down to one of the sub levels.

The rescue is successful, but unfortunately, both of the children are evil. We eventually convince the five-year-old not to kill us all, and she decides to be a force for good. It reminded me of the daughter of the Basanos in the Sandman spinoff, Lucifer.*



*Super-powerful being rapes its host, host becomes pregnant, tries for a magical abortion, unborn daughter tries to kill everyone, and God's granddaughter erases everyone's memory so they can live normal, happy lives.

John Winchester pops out of nowhere in order to tell his sons something important. Dean doesn't want to hear it, I really don't care, and Sam W.'s starting to wonder if his brother has dissociative identity disorder. Somehow, this devolves into a man-hug as I flip back and forth from a male character to a female one. No one else seems to notice.

shift

My character (a child) is trapped playing out endless scenarios for a... troll... or something. I'm crawling through the mud under a two-foot high bridge, eying the puddle to the centre warily. I'm pretty sure there's alligators down there, and when I think I see (sense) movement, I panic and make for dry land.

And suddenly, I'm in control instead of the child-character.

Fed up with such repetitive terror, I immediately make a break for it when I'm out in the open. I run past ramshackle machinery and jump into a red truck parked near the muddy road. As I start up the truck, ignoring the shrieking of the little goblin by the bridge, I notice it's a standard. Whatever, I drive a motorbike, I can make it work.

I put the truck into gear and drive off down the road. Now it can fit one person, and there's no cab.

Down the road, I find faeries. I'm their guest. One reminds me of Miranda, even though she looks nothing like her. This woman has long, curly brown hair, and is most definitely not Vietnamese. She looks a lot like Liv Tyler, actually.

Fae!Miranda gives me a gift. I accept it, and go off on a mental tangent about the birthday gifts Ron and Hermione may or may not have received. Also, the fact that Miranda and I still haven't gotten together to exchange Christmas '09 gifts.

I want to give a gift of my own. I pull out a box and hand it to the woman. We're part of a group now, sitting around a table. Fae!Miranda opens the box and pulls out a shimmery fabric that seems almost invisible. I explain that the fabric is a magic silk that will enhance - something. Maybe it has defensive powers, or turns the wearer invisible. I don't remember. It was awesome, though. I was wearing some, even.

The silk changes to match the green of the faerie's dress, and flows into her curly hair.

A boy across from me is angry. I receive an image of a black gown - apparently Fae!Miranda's suitor was about to give her a dress. I can feel his jealousy brimming over from across the table.

Misogynists, Scientists, Doctors, Little Girls, Monsters, and Faeries. Scare Factor: 2. Reaction: one of these days, giving powerful gifts to potential antagonists is going to come back and bite me.