Mzzkc's Mind Games

Catching up on a few days worth of notes.

Still gonna try to keep this under the ~30 minute limit writing constraint.

BARE-BONES ENTRY OF MEDIOCRITY

Aliens

Staying in a bed and breakfast, an alien podship smashes into the window, docking similarly to Halo 2's first mission. A severed head speaks the intentions of the immature xenomorphs that spill from the small ship, into the room. They seek only our love, adoration, and worship. Only if necessary will they subsume control of our brains and bodies. Euphoria awaits those who submit.

I make up some excuse and nope the fuck out the front door.

Agricola

Running down the town's main road at super-speeds, I'm stuck behind a bicyclist. I'm pretty sure he's a coworker. I don't want to be rude and pass him, so I make the first available turn between a row of houses, and continue on my path by taking a turn on a road parallel to the main one. I slow as I approach the market. It's really more of a bazaar with open-air shops and colorful awnings lit solely by starlight, all set atop grey cobblestone.

Samael's there, attending to one of the shops. I head into Samael's shop and pull out a copy of Agricola for inspection, since the shop specializes in fixing issues with board games or something. I don't quite remember. As I'm lifting the cover, Samael hastily warns me, but it's too late. A bunch of cardboard meeples scatter across the floor as other patrons crowd around. Graciously, Samael helps me pick them up and place them back in the box, the contents of which look more like Five Tribes than Agricola.

Cafe

After leaving the mall, K and I walk into a golden and brown hued cafe alongside the street. A bunch of people from high school and college are there. They're glaring, murder in their eyes. K is unsurprisingly oblivious to the mood in the room. He takes a seat, and I follow suit.

Hotel

Someone's dead, and I think I might be involved. At the very least, the CEO suspects me. I'm sure that's why I passed hotel security on my way to the stairs. And it's definitely why I jumped down the little square hole between the spiraling stairwell, letting gravity pull me down the hundred or so stories to the ground floor. That should buy me some time.

Vista

Walking through the hotel's grand hall, I take in the extravagance. Around me austere columns stand amidst dark oak tables. Whilst underfoot, a lush carpet with elegant gold inlays cushions my every step. It's not as vivid as it could be. In fact, I notice the dream wavering a bit and muse to myself about the false notion that all lucid dreams are vividly realistically. Vividness is a choice, I remind myself with a smirk, stabilizing the dream around me to life-like realism and stepping out onto the deck, where many of the guests have already gathered. The view is breathtaking. A number of curved, ancient buildings hug the glittering lake below. Towering high above, all perfectly illuminated by varying gradients of blue, pink, purple, and red. To my left, a waterfall spills lazily from the window of one of the stone marvels. I fly to it, cresting over the falling water and landing on the grassy overlook above.

Punks

Some punks are acting up in the parking lot. I can tell they've targeted me, so I untarget myself and pass through without incident.

22.6.2011

Buggers (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID







Dream: Protection

★★★★☆

Tasked with protecting this girl around my age, I quickly discover she isn't human. No, she's one of them, sent to understand human society and culture during this time of war. Even so, I find myself caring for this girl, and when the invasion finally does hit, and boulders are crashing down around us, I refuse to allow her to go back to them only to have her body vaporized and her memories absorbed into their collective hive-mind. So, I nab a fighter jet and we flee. . . only to crash a short time afterwards on the border of a hick river-town.

The only people in town able to help us are asking too high a price, but she knows something about me, something I had forgotten. Our desperate situation and a reminder is all it takes for me to take the initiative, dredge our plane to the surface with my TK, and repair it instantly. . .

Dream: Military School

★★☆☆☆

Enrolled in the academy, I find myself living a mix of military and student life, but things quickly get out of hand. Shenanigans ensue and I find myself taking a dip in full uniform in the lake the night before an important day. Apparently, it was the only thing I could do to avoid being caught out after curfew.

Fragment: Bros.

★★☆☆☆

Super Nintendo graphics and a Mario Bros. Game make up my world, as I help guide my brother through a particular difficult level. Unfortunately, he's being resistant. Normally, I wouldn't care, but lives are at stake here, and one more spill into that lava would kill more than the sprite. . .

4.01.2011

Feeding Time (Non-lucid)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Darkness covers the deserted outpost. Grey walled, black roofed buildings, dot the area, each a relic of the past. Though, the architecture, old-west in style, seems to be the norm across this post-apocalyptic wasteland. Shuffling through the first floor of the Inn, my sisters and I cast shadows on the murky glass. They're coming. . .

“What's that movement? In the window,” a woman points and whispers through hushed sobbing. A group approaches from up the grassy, wet, dirt-laced hill. They haven't slept for days. I motion with my flesh-torn arm for my sisters to cease their movement, close to the door now, out of sight, we're in perfect striking range.

“You're hallucinating,” warns the portly man with a broken staff and scruffy shadow of a beard. He saw it too, but hunger, the possibility of food, and a lack of sleep disrupt his reasoning. Unsure as he approaches the loosely hinged door, he warns the others to stay back.

It's likely these people have never seen one of our kind before. Never had to fear our bloodlust, our thirst for human flesh. No, these poor travelers have no idea what's waiting for them, just inside the darkness. We have the advantage.

They're unlucky, really, terribly unlucky. We could have come to any world, any universe, in the hunt for our true prey. I never had to steal that alien craft in our home dimension; the resistance would have gotten along fine without it. Sure, some key leaders would have been executed, but the fight would have continued.

Instead, out of character, I took a risk, and here I am now, in another plane of existence, dead and rotting, kept moving only by a powerful virus, or magic, I can't be sure. My intelligence, my self, remains intact. A true zombie, I am not, but my craving, my need to feed. . . all too real. Even as I bite down on this man's fleshy leg, repulsed by the taste, the dirt, the grime, I can't stop biting, tearing, where the others can't see him, can't hear his muffled cries.

I really hate it when they don't shower.