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Only dreaming
Ugh. Was it that little nip of Redbreast that gave me such disturbed sleep last night? Or perhaps was it following that with a little buttermilk? Was it just a matter of eating too much coddle and soda bread? Too much arguing on the Internet too close to bedtime? Whatever it was, at least I was paid in phantasmagorical dreaming.
EPISODE ONE: I remember being in the stronghold of some tyrannical evil overlord and goading his draconic brother into attacking an outpost. Meanwhile, my chirpy partner and I hopped onto a headless flying mount. We flew over the area once and made a visual search for the site of the dragon's assault (I told my faerie-like sidekick to look for "a black or silver poppy"), but I was relieved not to find it.
We landed on the streets of a city where we had to seek out some sort of witch-king of the Undead. I'd apparently had to do this once before and explained that my strategy was to look for walking skeletons and follow them uphill into the grand residential area. The one that kept going the highest would lead us to the witch's dwelling. In the course of explaining this, we sidled up to an ambulant corpse who turned on us once we reached the front yard of the house.
That's when it took on aspects of a LARP. I was a mage and attacked first with Burning Hands. No fire was actually visible, but he fell and began writhing. I wasn't doing enough damage to kill him and it looked like he might be gaining resistance, so I switched to a cold spell. Meanwhile another Undead fiend attacked my companion so I whirled around and shot some Magic Missiles into it. I was indecisive about what to use next since I knew I had to save my major firepower for the witch.
Then I remembered that I had an animated sword which I could direct with my mind. I used it to finish off the first opponent by stabbing (wondering if I should've decapitated him for good measure) and then took out the other one as well.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lhn was suddenly there playing a character similar to Calanar from our D&D days and I remember making some remark about my unwillingness to get my robes dirty, and how he'd understand.
EPISODE TWO: I was in a play. There were a half dozen of us, all men I was friends with, clustered together and we were supposed to be chattering anxiously about one of our number who was off doing something but had no actual lines. I improvised something that cracked up my friends but which I was worried would throw them off and cause them to break character. Then I remembered I had a line meant to end the scene and take us off stage and delivered it.
We hustled down some stairs and found ourselves in the front room of a comfortable frame house with large windows and a deep front porch. There was a suburban family in the room, most of them sitting on the sofa opposite the window and to the right of the stairs, which faced the front door. Some of the guys joined them on the couch, others of us deposited ourselves on a long piece of furniture (a sideboard?) alongside the left-hand wall. The family had done something to our friend (who, to be fair, had probably meant to kill them), but we didn't know what.
Finally my attention was drawn through the window to his silhouette dangling from a beam of the porch in the reddish twilight. We lamented his loss. Then we saw him move; he raised one pale arm and gave his foes the finger before clambering down from where he was hanging. It was my friend Woz. He was naked and strangely muscled, his skin glowing corpse-white in the strange light. When I looked back at the couch, I saw the family had fled.
Then one of the men who was lying next to me pushed his tongue into my mouth. It wasn't unpleasant but it wasn't very arousing either. His skin was soft and slack and I eventually gently pushed him away down towards some young men standing near the stairs. To my right I could see something like a spiral staircase leading outside and several people walking down it.monshu was one of them and I realised he wanted to shopping, so we had a brief conversation about where we were going and why.
But I became aware of a large video screen on the wall that was playing the video of a parody song. I was laughing out loud at it by the others in the room didn't seem very amused. It morphed into a sequence of movie parodies. I remember most clearly the take off on the opening sequence of a Charlie Kaufman film starring Alec Baldwin that featured a birds-eye view of a city through a distorting faceted lens. Magnified details of the cityscape would thrust forward and then you would see that they were constantly morphing. A large shack which seemed an amalgam of four different businesses supported a jumbled of constantly changing signs, with words jumbled at random.
Before I knew it I was walking in this city looking for shelter. Some kind of emergency was underway. It began to rain and it was black rain, as from Hiroshima. I got some on my fingers and examined the clinging residue, realising then that I wouldn't be able to withstand it for long. I pressed myself into the entryway of an abandoned building, perhaps and old railway station, and began to contemplate how to break through one of the windows.
EPISODE ONE: I remember being in the stronghold of some tyrannical evil overlord and goading his draconic brother into attacking an outpost. Meanwhile, my chirpy partner and I hopped onto a headless flying mount. We flew over the area once and made a visual search for the site of the dragon's assault (I told my faerie-like sidekick to look for "a black or silver poppy"), but I was relieved not to find it.
We landed on the streets of a city where we had to seek out some sort of witch-king of the Undead. I'd apparently had to do this once before and explained that my strategy was to look for walking skeletons and follow them uphill into the grand residential area. The one that kept going the highest would lead us to the witch's dwelling. In the course of explaining this, we sidled up to an ambulant corpse who turned on us once we reached the front yard of the house.
That's when it took on aspects of a LARP. I was a mage and attacked first with Burning Hands. No fire was actually visible, but he fell and began writhing. I wasn't doing enough damage to kill him and it looked like he might be gaining resistance, so I switched to a cold spell. Meanwhile another Undead fiend attacked my companion so I whirled around and shot some Magic Missiles into it. I was indecisive about what to use next since I knew I had to save my major firepower for the witch.
Then I remembered that I had an animated sword which I could direct with my mind. I used it to finish off the first opponent by stabbing (wondering if I should've decapitated him for good measure) and then took out the other one as well.
lhn was suddenly there playing a character similar to Calanar from our D&D days and I remember making some remark about my unwillingness to get my robes dirty, and how he'd understand.EPISODE TWO: I was in a play. There were a half dozen of us, all men I was friends with, clustered together and we were supposed to be chattering anxiously about one of our number who was off doing something but had no actual lines. I improvised something that cracked up my friends but which I was worried would throw them off and cause them to break character. Then I remembered I had a line meant to end the scene and take us off stage and delivered it.
We hustled down some stairs and found ourselves in the front room of a comfortable frame house with large windows and a deep front porch. There was a suburban family in the room, most of them sitting on the sofa opposite the window and to the right of the stairs, which faced the front door. Some of the guys joined them on the couch, others of us deposited ourselves on a long piece of furniture (a sideboard?) alongside the left-hand wall. The family had done something to our friend (who, to be fair, had probably meant to kill them), but we didn't know what.
Finally my attention was drawn through the window to his silhouette dangling from a beam of the porch in the reddish twilight. We lamented his loss. Then we saw him move; he raised one pale arm and gave his foes the finger before clambering down from where he was hanging. It was my friend Woz. He was naked and strangely muscled, his skin glowing corpse-white in the strange light. When I looked back at the couch, I saw the family had fled.
Then one of the men who was lying next to me pushed his tongue into my mouth. It wasn't unpleasant but it wasn't very arousing either. His skin was soft and slack and I eventually gently pushed him away down towards some young men standing near the stairs. To my right I could see something like a spiral staircase leading outside and several people walking down it.
monshu was one of them and I realised he wanted to shopping, so we had a brief conversation about where we were going and why.But I became aware of a large video screen on the wall that was playing the video of a parody song. I was laughing out loud at it by the others in the room didn't seem very amused. It morphed into a sequence of movie parodies. I remember most clearly the take off on the opening sequence of a Charlie Kaufman film starring Alec Baldwin that featured a birds-eye view of a city through a distorting faceted lens. Magnified details of the cityscape would thrust forward and then you would see that they were constantly morphing. A large shack which seemed an amalgam of four different businesses supported a jumbled of constantly changing signs, with words jumbled at random.
Before I knew it I was walking in this city looking for shelter. Some kind of emergency was underway. It began to rain and it was black rain, as from Hiroshima. I got some on my fingers and examined the clinging residue, realising then that I wouldn't be able to withstand it for long. I pressed myself into the entryway of an abandoned building, perhaps and old railway station, and began to contemplate how to break through one of the windows.