Recent DJ Posts

Napping on the couch during the night: A nightmare of the vague, unseen, menacing, I'd-call-it-demonic-except-the-demons-in-this-dream-are-on-my-side variety starts to take hold. Since I think of this as associated with darkness, I summon 'the golden light of Apollo' which lights me up from inside for a moment and this does the trick, but Amon and the other demons around me look rather hurt/betrayed that I would do such a thing, calling on some light god instead of relying on them.

Fragments from 8 and 10:19 wakeups, having gone to bed at 7 am:

A man with a phobia of the upper class he's trying to join; the name Benjamin.

An immortal man offering another a light for his cigarette and saying "Here. Rachel's mother couldn't stand (this brand), could she? Now it's the scent of (a three-syllable name of a town in China, a place associated with another woman)."

My new wife, Julia, has drawn me away from my potion-brewing for the night, and as I carry her up the tower steps to her bedroom, she quotes, "And it was better that the beloved behold the tainted cities of Mephisto dreaming."

(Woke up at 10:19, and shortly afterward my neighbor started to play the drums. After half an hour I called him. Back to bed at 11, though I didn't get back to sleep for at least another 20 minutes.)

I'm riding in a car with my IRL sisters, and I notice that I can see the grand houses we're driving past even though my eyes are closed. I keep them closed for a while to be sure of it. I suspect I'm dreaming. I take out my sketchpad and start drawing what I see with my eyes closed - the inside of the car, I considered drawing the scenery but better to go with something that isn't passing so fast - but I find that although I can see both car interior and sketchpad, my drawing isn't enough to prove anything. We stop at a hotel and I've run out of drawing paper, and I go through an old sketchbook and find it's full of paintings from Shadow Hearts.

Dream briefly switches to Shadow Hearts scenes featuring two Alices, one 'real', the other either dead or the result of time travel shenanigans or a figment of Yuri's mind or some combination of the above. It's this potentially imaginary Alice who more closely resembles the version from the game.

Back to the hotel - my father's current IRL girlfriend comes to the hotel room to tell me to hurry up, Dad's in the car and waiting. I'm surprised since I thought I was the one waiting, all I have to do is stick my sketchpad back in my backpack and I'm good to go - but no, I see my sisters are already at the door too. My bad. I grab my things and go after them -

After I walk through that door there's a memory gap, but I wind up lucid, floating up and down through the levels of the hotel through a convenient octagonal hole in the floors leading up to a skylight. I stop floating around and look for a door to go through to change to a more interesting scene, but as I pass through the door I get a sense of danger, and immediately look for another door. I pass through a series of rooms this way, most of them halls filled with marble statues and skylights or balconies opening onto clear blue skies, but still with that sense of something wrong, until finally I open a door to a public bath filled with attractive people making out with each other. I have no particular desire to join in but it makes for pleasant scenery and the sense of danger is gone, so I strip and get into the water.

I seem to have gotten my timing wrong, most people are getting out of the water and getting dressed, but I'm not bothered by this. The doors on the far side of the baths are so large the view is almost entirely brilliant blue sky. Someone offers me a tab of acid, and I take one and offer one to another before handing the rest back to him, which he's surprised by. I wonder if it'll have any effect in a dream, and as I wonder this I decide to find a robe to put on. I remember the summoning-by-putting-your-hand-behind-you trick and decide to try summoning a robe - which doesn't work, but I walk past a stack of towels, and then a stack of clothes, and this seems to be the dream's response to my request. The clothes are slightly too large for me but I put them on anyway, listening to the conversations around me.

(Woke up just before 12:30. Resigned myself to a bit of sleep deprivation.)

10.11.2012

Dream Views Shuts Down (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Alex decides to close the DV forums, and Opheliablue makes the announcement that DV will be closing soon.

It remains inaccessible for a few minutes, then I checked on Meta to find Alex made a thread stating what happened. He decided to sell it to a person who's French.

Alex didn't state why he had to leave, but I guess he was going to leave everything to the French guy's hands now.

Eventually, the same French guy who is now admin is using the site for a French class, not for lucid dreaming overall. I get irritated, and there's a bunch of threads that seem to be deleted since it's not related to French class at all.

I looked at the Notifications section on top of the screen, and saw I have a few likes received. There's one like where I made some post that had some naked lady with her breasts covered by hands. I think I made the post in response to someone who did post pictures of breasts.

The other likes looked like I posted in threads that died a long time ago.

Then after all that, the dream shifts to me being outside now, and it seems that the area I'm in has Europe vibe to it. It's a completely new environment to me, and I'm presuming it have a France vibe to it.

The concrete had rock material fused together, like those little bumps you see formed close together. I realize that I'm sitting down a small bleacher bench while looking at some people to the right/left of me.

These looked like randomly generated DCs, and then I come to the realization that the new admin really didn't buy Dream Views to sustain the forum, but to make a new site for French classes.

I end up leaving, and I think I see SpaceCowboyDave leaving before me in this weird area.

_________________________

10.11.2012

I Have SpiderMan Powers and Facing Huge Ghost Rider (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

WOAH...

I'm inside of an area that's reminiscent of the LOZ: Windwaker's section where you would face Puppet Ganon, except that the area has shades of brown, mostly because the surface of the whole area seem to be made of wood.

There's these wooden surfaces that would be on some parts of the wall that were surprisingly stable. There was a long wooden path high on the wall you could walk on the right side of the area as well.

The walls have a lighter hue of brown, but since this area has a dark vibe to it, it isn't noticeable immediately. There's a few torches lighting up the place, but it doesn't really make most parts any clearer to see. This place also seem to be reminiscent to Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones' area where the Prince had to move a statue before the place burns to a crisp.

I seem to be flinging around the place like I have Spiderman's abilities to web-shoot and swing. I do this for a while, and I hear Amon's voice from The Legend of Korra. He comes out of of this black and opaque opening, and he starts saying some things to me.

I can't recall what he said, but he does have my attention for sure. I eventually get on the lowest surface in this area, and I was somewhat close to Amon. I get a little scared, and decided to quickly jump and web-swing again away from him.

The dream shifts to where a HUGE ass creature forms, and it looks a lot like Ghost Rider, except it's 1,000 x bigger. I don't know what to do except to keep flinging webs and swinging at random areas.

It doesn't seem the Ghost Rider thing isn't concentrated at me at the initial periods of it manifesting. It seemed to be attacking some random people in what I thought was an empty area with just me inside.

After a while I get so scared that I decided to hide behind a wall on the same long wooden path on the right that I stated before. I seem to have found the Ghost Rider Giant's blind-spot. The wall I was behind I think let to an exit, but I decided to stay there.

While I'm hiding behind it, I can still see what's happening behind me. The Ghost Rider Giant starts punching the walls randomly, probably aiming for more randomly generated dream characters. It tries to get me, but it simply is not able to get through small spaces.

After that, I don't know what happens, hell, I don't even know if I can even kill this thing.

It just appears out of nowhere....what the hell.

_________________________

10.11.2012

Ordering Breakfast Tacos (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I'm with my mother, and we're inside of a store that probably sell Hispanic food. It's similar to the environment you see in Starbucks, but that was probably because I wasn't paying attention to the rest of the store with my peripheral vision to the left.

I just stood near the cashier, and waited with my mother. When she received her order of what seems to be Sausage and Potatoes wrapped in Tortillas, I told her that I would like a Breakfast Taco. She looks at me as if she's a little annoyed that I didn't tell her sooner, but she quickly changes her demeanor from irritated to kind towards the employee.

It takes quite a while for the order to be finished, and I was wondering if they forgot or something. I was looking at some Asian man wearing a dress shirt and probably dark brown dress pants as well. It seems he's writing on something, and when I take a little peak, he seems to be writing on a PINK Intuos4 Tablet.

He's writing on it with a ball-point pen without the ball-point in it instead of a tablet pen. The tablet seems to respond to this object that shouldn't even make any kind of response. I think there was another Intuos4 near the cashier counter, and I started to touch it.

Man, that tablet is very sensitive, it picks up my movements with my finger pretty well, and the harder I press on it, the large the cursor increases. I take my fingers off the active base of the tablet product after playing with it for maybe 15-30 seconds.

My order finally comes, and it's inside a brown lunch bag. I take a peak inside, and there's two breakfast Tacos for myself. I also feel that I could've been younger in this dream, like 14 years old or so rather than 19 years of age.

The breakfast tacos looked very enticing as well...the eggs, potatoes, and whatever meat is in there (sausage or bacon) closely packed together. The eggs seemed to be the main thing that attracted me, they were so fluffy and yellow.

Behold, my massive HvZ/Star Wars/Fable/White Collar/Inception/Supernatural/Good Omens crossover dream. Includes characters from Inception, but no spoilers.

08/01/10

My brother and I are sneaking into our cousins' house, playing a game of what amounts to Humans vs. Zombies, but with more humans trying to "kill" each other.

My aunt catches us in the house. Her face is red and she attempts to loom over us threateningly. "You're trespassing, you know."

"I don't think that's against the rules." Ben says, considering.

"But we are sorry. Truly, sincerely sorry," I lie. "Really. We should go."

***



I look around. I'm in a mountainous region surrounded by pillars of ice and concrete bunkers. I'm close to the top of a mountain, on a snowy path.

I pull out my phone and look at it. If Hazel's speed dial "8", I could probably reach my brother the same way. I press "1".

The line picks up.

"Hey, Ben. What the hell happened to you?"

"Kkkshhk...separated...zombies...meet up...later."

The line goes dead.

I shrug, knowing that Ben can take care of himself. I look out over the snowy plains, at once clouded and sunny. It looks like a video game environment. Paths leading to certain places, all of the corners rounded and indistinct... If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was on Hoth.

"Hands in the air," says a voice, crackling and metallic.

I turn around slowly, pasting a smile onto my face.

***



Leaning against the concrete wall of the control room, I remain nonchalant as two of the guards keep their weapons trained on me. I was surprised when I realized that they weren't Stormtroopers, and weren't Rebels either. The group that I've let myself be captured by are dark-siders of a different sort, and I haven't yet figured out who they're working for.

The human male in the corner is force sensitive, but not trained. He has short black hair, plain dark clothing, and is probably in his late teens. He's either looking at me with distrust or he's sulking over the pot of cold coffee on the counter. I haven't decided.

The apparent leader is a female Zabrak. Her dark hair is cut in a short bob, and she's going through my personal effects. Finally, she picks up my dual lightsabers in each hand. I shift my weight to my other foot. One of the guards hisses a breath and clutches at his weapon tightly.

"Twitchy, twitchy." I say, eyeing the terrified guard. "Someone could get hurt."

"I'd be careful, Jedi," the leader hisses at me, still holding my lightsabers. "We have you at a disadvantage."

"Do you really?" I ask, amused. I motion with my hand. On the other side of the room, the coffee pours upward into the air, forming an amorphous blob and flying into the face of the sulking teenager. The boy starts to curse, but the woman in front of me barely seems to notice.

"There's very little difference between the Jedi and the Sith."

"You're telling me." I say, "One of those lightsabers is red, you know."

A blood-curdling roar is unleashed from outside. The bunker shakes from its very foundations. Outside in the darkness, I can sense the fury of the beast, aimed at the creatures encroaching on its territory. Us.

"I wonder what happened to the Imperials that built this station." I say quietly, meeting the eyes of the leader.

My dual sabers are in my hands and light up in the next instant, glowing red and blue (and I'm my female Exile character from KOTOR 2). The woman raises her hands. I watch as the blades are folded up into sheets of blunt metal, and look at the woman mournfully.

"You are no fun at all," I say, yanking a pistol from a guard across the room. "Try not to die."

I see a flash of red through the blinding snowstorm. I aim my pistol and shoot three times before it disappears. I hear a roar through the storm, and can barely see the outline of the monster's arms raised into the air before I'm dashing across the arena, dodging the cracks that appear in the ground.

***

"Coffee?" I ask brightly, pushing a cup towards the teenager. He scowls but takes the cup.

"That was a mean trick," he says, "I like coffee."

"No, messing with someone's lightsaber, that's a mean trick." I pause, "The coffee was just funny."

He's still angry, but he seems to be hiding a smile as well.

"Master Kenobi. In my study, you will meet me," says a voice over my comlink.

"Of course, Master Yoda."

Yoda shows me over to a glass case filled with crystals and gemstones. He motions me to look at them. I find myself drawn to a black piece of rock the size of my palm, smooth and glassy, with waves rippling over the surface. I stare at it, intrigued, and look back at Yoda for permission.



He nods.

I feel for the orange piece of Carnelian in my left pocket, reassured when it's still there. Turning my attention back to the shelf, I pick up the rock carefully, touching it only with my fingertips, and turn it to lie flat on my palm.

I breathe in, allowing the power in the stone to ground me. I feel...

"There's a darkness to this," I say, as if I'm in a trance. "It has a history with death, it's beautiful, it feels cool, the temperature, I mean. I can feel it echoing through me... ignacious, born of fire and now... cold, complete, rational -"

"Back on the shelf, you should put it," says Yoda sharply.

I set the rock back on the shelf, drawing a shaky breath. I want to pick up the rock again, feel for the green crystal that I know should be there, break it in two and give the other half to the person who should have it... Stop it, you're supposed to be Obi-Wan.

"See, you do, the power inherent in these crystals." Yoda says, "Yours, one of them will be, should you take on an apprentice."

I smile, leaning against one of the white walls. I'd wondered why the force-sensitive teenager felt so familiar. Amon?

I shake myself. "We have a mission," I say reprovingly, "Are you trying to distract me, Master Yoda?"

"Hmph. Dream of it, I wouldn't."

***





I take on the guise of Neal Caffrey, all smiles and warm handshakes as we bluff our way into Saito's mansion. Ariadne and Scott Summers back me up, along with four men and women in suits that follow us demurely.

Our whole group is surrounded by Saito's bodyguards, and my companions are feeling intimidated, grouping together until they're nearly touching elbows. I pretend not to notice, and focus on the conversation with Saito as he shows us around his mansion.

We stop by the swimming pool. We're more or less openly flirting right now, and I'm drawing on the Neal Caffrey personality in order to distance myself and appear more outgoing. My form is flickering now, male to female and back again, through half a dozen personalities before settling back on Neal. No one seems to notice.

I fall into the water, pleased to feel the shock of cold on my skin. It feels wonderful, and I let myself sigh in pleasure before I force myself to concentrate. I climb the steps up onto the deck, my clothes holding none of the moisture.

Saito is yelling at his guard for jostling me, and apologizes. I tell him not to worry, but that I need to talk to my doctor, as I may have broken one of my ribs. The man points out the change rooms on the other side of the pool.

"Doctor?" I say, holding out an elbow for Ariadne. She looks surprised, but catches herself and nods. She threads her arm through mine and we walk towards the change rooms.

"Doctor?" she hisses.

"It's improv, Ariadne." I say, smiling. "Just go with it."

We round the corner and Ariadne steps away, brushing at her arm. I flirt with her as she touches my temples, exposing the wiring there.

"I need to upload the schematics to your mind," I tell her, "So that I can stay behind while you get Xavier the information."

"And why is it you're staying behind?" She asks, skeptical.

"There's something bigger going on here," I say quietly. "I need to convince Saito I'm on his side. You get the others out, and I'll figure out what's going on."

Ariadne steps back, nodding reluctantly.

I decide to give Cyclops the information, since his visor will work as a direct transference point into his temples. (What?) A quick shock, and he's ready to head back home.

***

"Not so fast," says Saito.

We're standing outside in a courtyard, surrounded by enemies. The DCs in business suits are entirely useless, and for some reason, I have to keep them alive. Guards have automatic weapons trained on us, and I'm practically staring down one of the barrels as I raise my hands slowly, ready to talk my way out of this. Ariadne shoots me a look, clearly worried. Cyclops is ready to start a fight.

Saito is overconfident. I can use that, but I need to get the others away first. I need Yoda and Xavier to owe me a favour, dammit, and that isn't going to happen if I get their people killed.

Bright white light explodes from the far end of the courtyard, and a shockwave knocks the guards to the ground and disarms them. Not limited by human sight, I swing around to face the four pillars of light materializing on the ground before us. One of the pillars is wreathed in red flames that fan outward, scorching the earth around it.

The light coalesces into four human figures, three of them standing in a ring behind their leader.

He is never going to let me live this down.

"Castiel." I greet him, but the angel is already barking orders to the other three, sending them into the fray to grab my people and transport them back to the compound. Ariadne catches my eye as she disappears, and I can see all of the questions written across her face.

Until the only ones left standing are me, Saito, and Castiel. I let my false face fall away, and I turn to say something to Saito.

The dream fades.

Mansions of Silence. Scare Factor: 3.

Looks like Castiel and I are 1:1 for rescues.

07/26/10

I try to WILD. I notice the beginnings of HH, let my fingers twitch and decide I haven't reached SP.

I fall asleep. I'm laying in a bed when I feel someone lie down next to me. I freeze, and pretend to be asleep.

I make an impossible jump onto the roof of a barn.

I'm walking along cold grey tiles of a huge grocery store. If I look around, I'll see water flowing past the high windows, held at bay by degrading technology. I catch a glimpse of myself from the third person. I'm a teenage girl with pixie-like features. My shoulder-length brown hair is pulled back from my face.

I turn a corner, shining my flashlight up and down the aisles.

Since I'm a girl, I'm caught up in a rite of passage that all girls in my post-apocalyptic society go through. It's less a test and more of a sacrifice. If all the girls feed the monster a part of our souls, it'll be less likely to kill us.

My flashlight flickers and goes out.

I squeeze my elbow into my side, reassured by the blade I feel hidden under my jacket.

"Come to me, child," says a voice, rasping hollow through the darkness.

The voice resonates like a song, notes ringing through my mind, weaving a compulsion. I let the song flow over my mind like water, leaving my intentions to lie quietly in the darkness.

I let the flashlight fall from my hand. It clatters to the ground, the sound harsh in the relative silence of the warehouse. The music has reached a quiet hum. The flashlight rolls away.

I feel drowsy as I respond to the tug of the song, shuffling my feet toward the back wall of the building.

In one moment, I'm alone. In the next, the monster has apeared before me, a writhing mass of shadows moving toward me and invading my space. It brings me in, compliant, pulling me to the heart of it.

A distant part of me feels panicked and trapped, but I'm ready for this. In one smooth motion, I'm grabbing my blade and rushing forward, slicing through the monster's fleshy heart. Blood bursts from the wound, spraying everywhere.

I lick my lips, and step back, triumphant. The shadows dissipate, leaving the warehouse with the dim, directionless lighting of a dream. The scene starts to fade.

I'm standing in the produce department, wearing a more comfortable dream form, short-haired and androgynous, no longer covered in blood. The dark-haired man across from me looks annoyed as he holds a hand over his heart, willing the wound to close.

My lips twitch. "You lose again, Amon."

The Test. Scare Factor: 5.

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.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

A note to our teenage adventure protagonist: we're totally messing with you.

Our surroundings are bright, a world of clear glass windows surrounded by sunlight. My footfalls are light and airy, bearing none of the gravity that this situation should require. I am calm, cool, and collected as I approach the dark-haired man at the top of the dias.

"You should know, Amon," I say, "That you can't possibly win."

Amon surveys the horizon, his back turned to me. "We don't have to do this," he says quietly. "You could give up the girl..."

"That's not going to happen."

Amon turns to face me, dark energy forming in a globe between his hands. He's still young. I barely have time to process the thought. I'm dodging. Blackness swallows up the staircase I was standing on a moment ago.

I bring my hands together, pull them apart in a quick motion. A lance of energy surges toward Amon, aiming for the heart.

I'm sitting at a four-person booth in a restaurant, nursing a cup of coffee. I hold it up and breathe in the warm scent, before setting it back down with a clink on the table. I glance up at Amon, who's sitting across from me at the table. The corner of his mouth is twitching up into a smile, though he's trying to suppress it.

Beside me is the girl I was talking about before, our protagonist, Sasha. I love playing a supporting character. She's glancing up at Amon and back at the table, trying to look for all the world like she's not about to bolt at the first sign of hostility.

I have to chuckle. "So. Do you think this counts as an anti-climax?"

Amon's about to point out the double-entendre, but Sasha cuts him off.

"What the hell, ---?" she says, twisting to face me directly. "He was trying to kill you!"

"Nah," I say, leaning back in my seat, "Amon and I aren't enemies. Are we, Amon?"

"Nope," he says, barely keeping a straight face.

"Tell him about your problem." I say, my expression far too earnest.

"I can't remember my parents' eye colours, okay? They keep changing!" Sasha springs up from her seat and stomps away to the restroom.

"Who pays attention to their parents' eye colours?" asks Amon.

"Weird people. Or very observant ones?" I wonder. "Anyway, I took a look at her memories, and they have been tampered with."

"And you just got rid of her. Am I thinking what you're thinking?"

I nod, gleefully. "We should investigate."

We slip away from the diner and back into the mall we just destroyed. I press a few random buttons on a keypad and the door opens with a hiss. I walk right in, Amon following close behind. We're in the clothing department, where a couple missing parents should be frozen as mannequins.

"If we have all of the permutations right," I muse, wandering over to a control panel disguised as a jewellery counter, "We should just be able to enter them here."

Amon presses a few places on a blank wall. As he touches them, the spots light up in squares. He finishes the combination and steps back. I hear a low hum permeate the air around us.

"I have a bad feeling about this." I mutter.

Amon shoots me a glare. "I don't like your bad feelings," says Amon. "They make bad things happen."

The mannequins in the display near us, half a dozen at least, start to twitch.

Mind Games. Scare Factor: 2.

A wizard violates the laws of nature when he creates human beings from scratch. And then there are zombies.

There's a shabby old farmhouse on the plain, over the crest of the hill. No roads lead to it, because in this time, there are no roads. If there's a hint of civilization in this place, it's what's been carved out of the land by its few inhabitants.



I knock on the door.

The door swings open and a middle-aged man with longish black hair answers it, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile when he realizes who I am.

"Amon." I say, "It's been a while."

He leads me inside, beaming. The inside of the house is bright and warm and filled with people. I notice the eight people in the room, most of whom are cooking and doing various odd jobs around the house. Amon is rushing away to go help with something.

I take an empty seat beside a kid who looks to be in his mid-20s. "I'm Eli," he says, "and the scary-looking guy across from me is Mark."

Mark glares menacingly from across the table.

"So, Eli," I say, "How did you come to be here?"

"Could ask you the same question." Mark interrupts.

Eli continues like he hasn't heard him. "I was a civilian consultant for the military back home. It's a long story, but the same thing that pulled all of us back here somehow pulled me in. So really, I'm from the future," he says happily.

Neat cover story.

"So, when were you from?" asks Eli.

"I need to talk to Amon." I say dismissively, and kick my chair back.

Mark stands up too, his pose threatening. "I don't know who you are," he says, "but you're not one of us. If you try to hurt any of these people, I will kill you."

I turn back to him, considering. "Duly noted."

I catch up to Amon outside. He's leaning against the wood siding of the house, staring up into the sky.

"So," I say, leaning against the wall beside him, "They're self-aware."

Amon pulls away from the wall a bit, turning to face me. "They are." He confirms. His smile becomes wistful. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Your own perfect little creations." I say, frowning. "You know, there's a reason the creation of human life is considered a forbidden art."

"Those laws don't apply here," says Amon. "And of all people, I thought you would understand why those rules are arbitrary."

"I care little for conventional morality, Amon," I say, warning in my tone, "But this is dangerous. As my student -"

"You taught me to choose my own path," says Amon. He gestures at the door. "This is what I've chosen. These are real people, ---." He lowers his voice. "I won't abandon them."

I can't stop a smile from creeping onto my face.

One of his creations comes outside to tell us that dinner is ready. The man is smiling and holding a bowl of potatoes and a wooden spoon. I try to ignore it, but I can't help but notice that his hands are shaking.

---

Over dinner, I keep an eye on the man with the potatoes. His name is Darryl, and he's a carpenter from the 1950s. At least, he thinks he is. In reality, he's a construct whose artificial soul is straining at the bonds keeping it in place. I'm surprised the others have lasted so long.

Eli keeps trying to draw me into the conversation, but I keep one eye on Darryl throughout the meal. He's getting progressively more pale and shaky, I notice, as Eli introduces me to a pretty woman in a dress, called Solara. She's either from an alternate, apocalyptic future or a rich family in the 19th century. I'm not paying much attention.

Because Darryl is stumbling, backing away from the table into the wall, and as he collapses, a wave of energy pulses outward, knocking over every construct at the table.

I calmly set down my fork, then stand up and walk over to Amon. "I hate to say I told you so," I tell him, "but it's time to go."

"No!" says Amon, knocking my hand away. He staggers back to the other end of the room, looking over the scene with horror. "I have to help them."

"Amon." I say, approaching like I would a wounded animal. "There's nothing you can do. We need to leave before you're affected, too."

"Yes." he says, eyes wild. "Yes, yes, I can't help them," He looks straight at me. "But you can. You can fix them."

"No." I say flatly. "This is a bad idea."

He's already started the process before I can protest further, pulling soul energy from a well deep inside him, gathering it up.

I can't stop him.

"Take care of them, ---," he says, struggling to hold together the colourless swirling energy he's holding in his hands. "Please."



The soul energy hits me at the same time I feel Amon vanish from existence, gone as if he'd never been there. The energy is a rush, but I control it effortlessly, and spin around to confront the automatons that are his legacy.

The thing that was Darryl comes charging at me, and I telekinetically smash it into the wall next to me. Its feet are dangling in the air as I examine it. Gari d'amon ex hadris, I chant in nonsense Latin. I let the body fall, boneless and broken to the floor.

Mark is still half-standing, leaning against a chair for support. He's been watching with the glazed look of a man in horrible pain, but he's still somewhat alert.

I approach him in much the same way I did the zombie, cautious. I nudge him back toward the wall with a tendril of energy, but I don't lift him from the ground or slam him into the wall.

"This is going to hurt," I warn him.

Mark nods and lets his head fall back against the wall, eyes closed. So assured, I grip Mark's artificial soul, pulling it into a ball from his chest. I twist my wrist, watching his hands clench into fists, and let trickles of the soul-energy I absorbed from Amon sweep into the artificial soul, strenghthening it.

I don't have time for anything more elaborate. I push Mark's soul back into his body, forcing it to slice through his veins in one swift motion, sticking it there. If he could get any breath into his lungs, he would be screaming.

I leave Mark on the floor, stepping over him to the other bodies. This just might work.

In the end, I only manage to save five of them, Eli and Solara among them. The other two, I simply put down, severing their nervous systems and absorbing the very last of their energies. The once cozy farmhouse feels oppressive, haunted by the wild energy that echoes throughout. We need to leave.
"You have water?" I ask a woman, whose name I don't know. She nods silently, looking back over the farmhouse.

"Well?" says Solara, gathering up her skirts and hiking out into the desert, the opposite way I came from. "Let's get going then."

Amused, I follow after her, followed, in turn, by the rest of the group. Mark stays close behind me, though I doubt it's to watch my back. More likely, he just wants to keep an eye on me.

Eli jogs to catch up, panting as he keeps pace with me. "So, what happened back there, exactly?"

"Amon was a necromancer," I say. "He wanted to create life, so he came here. He created you." I keep my eyes on the horizon. "He couldn't sustain himself along with all of you, so he sacrificed the rest of his soul to keep you alive."

Eli blinks. "Okay, that's completely unbelievable."

I look back at him and say without inflection, "The wormhole that brought you back in time dosed you with massive amounts of radiation that was going to turn you into zombies."

"Thank you," says Eli. "Why didn't you just say that the first time?"

Eli tries to catch up to Solara. I turn back to Mark and shrug. What can you do?

I could swear I almost see Mark crack a smile.

---

The next hill brings us the view of a tall, white-panelled manor not too far off. I wonder what could have made it; we're supposed to be in a universe devoid of all sentient life, after all. The rest of the party is just relieved to see a trace of civilization, so I suppose that it's worth the risk.

We trek up the gravel road (another oddity) to the house that shouldn't be there. Eli and Solara are running inside before Mark and I have a chance to check it out - which Mark isn't happy about. We meet them inside. Solara is twirling in circles over the hardwood floor, a smile on her face as she admires the high ceilings.

I'm trying to examine my surroundings on a deeper level, but something is blocking my senses. This place might seem like heaven to Solara, but something is very wrong.

Mark's dividing us into teams. He wants Eli and Solara to stick together on the main floor, watching for any signs of life (anything to keep those two out of trouble). He sends the two nameless constructs - people - off to explore the rest of the main floor while the two of us head upstairs.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't trust me with the others." I say in a low voice, out of earshot from the rest of the group.

"I don't!" says Mark, turning around to face me on the stairs. I calculate a four foot height advantage. "You show up and suddenly, four of us are dead! What the hell do you expect?"

"If I hadn't shown up when I did, all of you would have been dead." I say, meeting his angry gaze.

"Do you remember what I told you, earlier?"

I tilt my head, walk up the last few steps until I'm standing far too close. "You said you'd kill me." I smile, and Mark takes a step back. "Would you like to try?"

We hear a scream from the main floor. Mark is rushing down the stairs toward the sound, shouting "Solara", and I follow behind at a more modest pace.

Solara has collapsed on the floor. Eli is backed up against the counter, faced by a wraith-like creature with rotting skin. Eerie green light seems to flow from its features, making the sunlight streaming in the windows seem colder somehow. Its flowing white dress seems to flutter in a non-existant breeze.

Revenant, my mind supplies me with, as it turns to face Mark. Controls illusions, typically feeds on travellers. It hasn't noticed me yet.

"Do you like my home?" the revenant asks Mark. He starts forward, but it reforms into the shape of a Chinese woman with long dark hair and modern clothing. It's someone he seems to recognize, and he freezes on the spot.

The revenant approaches him, raising one hand to his face -

I attack with a right hook to her jaw. I spin and lash out with a kick. I've left myself open. The revenent strikes with her claws, tearing my throat out. I laugh, the liquid splashing my clothes, and continue to strike at her.

Hang on, that's not fair.

What isn't? It's right on my character sheet; I'm immortal.

You should at least need some time to recuperate.

Nope.

Oh, come on, you get banished to the basement...

I take a moment to adjust to my new surroundings, dark and damp and distinctly underground. I'm in the cellar. I curse revenants in general to hell and back, but I'm not too terribly concerned with the constructs, either. Mark should be able to handle himself for a little while.

I take stock of the food in the basement, a lot of cereal and a working freezer - hey, Neapolitan ice cream. The others will be happy about that. The overhead light starts to flicker and I sigh. I see movement in the corner of the room, feel hairs raising on the back of my neck.

I spin around and catch the revenant by the throat. She's flickering back and forth between her wraith image and her human one, and I force her to the ground, crushing her windpipe. She claws uselessly at my arms, but it's too late, I've got too good of a grip on her. Unfortunately, revenants don't need to breathe, either.

There's a short flight of steps leading back to the kitchen, and I drag her up by the throat, letting her white dress drag over the dusty steps. I step into the kitchen, where the five survivors are standing around in a circle, trying to figure out what to do next.

Mark looks up first. "We thought you were dead." He accuses.

"I don't die." I say.

I throw the revenant onto the floor, where she scrambles back along the tile, surrounded by six very non-human travellers. "Now," I say, tilting my head to the side and smiling down at her, "How do we go about killing you?"

Character Creation. Scare Factor: 3.

There, I'm done. Finally.