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    Potter, Spells and Defense

    by , 10-05-2011 at 01:06 PM (562 Views)
    non-lucid - Notes - lucid

    05-10-11 No intentions, not even to get lucid, though maybe with a hint of wanting to remember dreams. Stoned.

    “Underground Potterish showdown”

    I am in a Harry Potter like universe. I am Harry to begin with I think, but then something happen something about an adventure and a person shifting into a black jaguar or similar.

    I then become one of the twin brothers I think and we are supposed to go to this theatre or school and scare up the evil kids who are voting capital V. Throughout the dream when I am this brother I recall comparing my wand with my brother's, which I believe is the elder wand. Or at least something stupidly powerful.

    Mine is.. quite the opposite. It s fairly long and thick, though it seems made of plastic or candy. It is made of all sorts of transparent coloured tubes that are wrapped around the main shape to give the wand in it's entirety a rather complex look. It is flexible as fuck though, which sort of surprise me. I remember thinking “I really like this wand” although I am not a wand guy. I even thought about that during the dream “I really don't like wands, but this one..” Anyways enough of me talking about how much I love my stick, and on to how I use it!

    We head to the theatre and walk through the doors. I can't recall if we have any problems walking in, but I don't think so. There is a wall immediately behind the doors and we walk around this and find another set of doors. I ward myself with a spell that will nullify the first 3 offensive spells that hit me, by drawing my wand in a half circle around me and saying something in a tongue I didn't knew I know. Though I remember not what I said the language sounded dark side, and it ends on a defensive word like “defendarius” “Repeltor” or maybe it was “reflector” (though this last word I used in a later dream and I might just be confusing myself). I only become aware of this 3-spell-limitation in function later on when I am battling the kids and I think to myself “Gee I wonder how many charges are left on my shield?”.

    So my brother and I slam open the doors and find a crowd turning their heads in surprise. I can sense that I am becoming angry and I start slinging out spells, though I think I am aware of not wanting to kill anyone, they need to be hurt enough to get scared. I seem to remember some sort of slicing spell that will cut them a bit, but not kill. We are walking down a centre isle and as we get to the bottom of this and are standing around the people I say something more in my dark side tongue and take off in flight to my left, which is also where I spot Voldemort. I am not particular afraid of him though he is looking at me, and this is also the time I check up on the status of my shield.

    The dream skips a bit though this might just be due to the violent battle that ensues. In any case I find myself outside the theatre and it was apparently located on this ledge. The surroundings have a dark feel to them, unnatural dark at that. Like it is a city underground, which would explain the fragmented memories of walking around underground/sewer tunnels.

    The feel is exactly like this:

    However imagine that the platform is naturally attached to the tunnel where the POV is, instead of the mechanical “arm” that is holding it up, and on the platform is the theatre in question. I am looking at the theatre from a distance up in the air and I can see the tunnel I am supposed to go to. The place is collapsing (further) into the ground.

    I hear my cousin's voice, she is asking me “Will he survive?” she is referring to my brother, who is not as close to leaving the theatre as I am. I see him jumping between the broken pieces of rubble and fly down and grab him and his dog (?) under my right arm and reply “Sure he is” in a cheeky voice, while I pull him into the tunnel, safe from the fall.

    “Powerless Christmas, Angels and Wizards”

    I am in my parents' house in Hornslet and it is Christmas time. I am looking for some paint I used to play with when younger painting role small figures. I need to get this paint to Pil, one of my friends who needs to paint a character for a role play he is playing at the minute. I might as well grab it while I am there, as I have bought a figure myself recently, in fact quite a large one that is supposed to depict “the queen of blades” combined with some sort of fallen angel.

    The figurine I am holding is separated into two pieces, which is bugering me a bit because I have to hold onto two pieces rather than one, which is just mentally demanding. At the same time I don't really want to attach the piece if it means it will be trickier to paint the figure.

    I am walking around thinking a bit about where I have left the paint, though I am somewhat positive that it will be in a box on the attic of the main building, though it is entirely possible that it is on the attic of the added apartment building.

    I walk into the guest room and I see the light flicker. I look a bit closer and it does it again. The light is fairly yellowish compared to how the light would normally look. It flickers again and this reminds me of that one Christmas where we didn't have power (never happened) and the scenery changes to being of the parking grounds of the church, heavily clouded and with light snow falling.


    I am now in a field with a bandit group or similar and we are out collecting wood. It is still Christmas time and the group has no power either, which is why we are collecting wood. I am the second in command and the leader is not there. I get the feeling I am somewhat stupid.

    We are trying to get the wood back to camp via an alternative route that involves tying up all the wood in a bundle and sending a small monkey across a puddle of water with it. However as the monkey is crossing the water the knots around the wood loosen and the wood ends up all over the ”shores” of this little puddle. I notice the monkey sitting across the puddle with an attitude that looks like he is giving up.

    I do a little speech to my men saying that the only reason we are out on this shitty day and the Christmas is bad is because we have no power. I rally my troops and point at a theatre all of a sudden standing in the same field. “There is power right there, and I am going to take it” I say. The theatre is in fact a nuclear power plant that has been shut down for unknown reasons.

    I walk to the door, which is one of those double swing doors and the door knobs have a red diode light in the middle of them. I kick the doors in, I think I have to do it twice, but I manage to get in. I feel a sense of aggression rising again. We are faced with a wall we have to walk around (a bit like the previous potter dream) and when we are around this wall I am faced with an angel in human form guarding the door. I throw a spell that will make me immune to angelic attacks and continue past the angel, without thinking more about her leaving her speech less.

    In the hall I see a wizard standing on my right hand side, I think it is the brother from the previous dream. He is about to react so I mumble something dark side again (this time the ending word is “...Reflector” which will make any spell he throw at me return in his face).

    I keep walking down the centre walkway towards a band playing down in the bottom of the hall. I know I can pick up the microphone stand telekinetically and this is the point where I think “hang on a minute..” Loads of people are panicking and trying to get out of the theatre/powerplant. Some are running past be back the way from which I came and others are running further into the building, maybe towards exits unknown to me.

    I put out my arms in a defensive, yet apologetic gesture and say “Whoah, whoah, whoah... Lucid... Lucid” in order to get the people to calm down and realise it is just a dream. It doesn't work. Then I see someone that doesn't look like a DC run past me and I grab him asking him if he is another dreamer, he say yes. I ask his name and he tells me it is “Shakira” which makes me suspicious and I say “Shakira, really!?” “Tjakira/Tchakira” he corrects me. His appearance has now changed from a blonde man with short cut hair to a man with long grey/black hair.

    I leave him and head back out again. I fly a bit after having thought about why I am walking about like a looser, but I decide to not fly that much any more anyways. Back towards the entrance I am faced with the wall I had to walk around to get in. I decide to fly against it and through it, but end up slamming right into it, though it happens really slowly and without pain.

    Someone behind me is laughing at my efforts of going through the wall, but I don't really care. I just drop down and walk around. as I am closer to the exit the dream starts fading. So I, quite aggressively, slam my hands out to either side and start feeling up the walls, which feels like tile, wet and cold as well as breathing through my nose. The air is equally cold.

    Slowly the dream comes back and someone, maybe one of the twins from Hornslet, is walking in the building. Outside the weather has changed quite dramatically. It is pissing down and windy as fuck. I feel how the rain is slamming against the side of my face, the cold strong wind making it really annoying.

    I think to the dream “Is this a way of telling me that the dream is really unstable?” and start throwing pathetic fireballs the size of shirt buttons to cookies into the sky. The way I throw fireballs is by charging them between my cupped hands at my chest. They don't even look that hot and the last one (think it is number 3) I can barely see. Now I can only see the rain.

    I wake up.

    Notes: I am starting to put up wards around myself, which I suppose is a good thing when it comes to dream travelling.

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