In the dream, there was a prophecy about some silver item and something called the Fires of the Faithful. When they lined up, the earth would shake and some old Fae influence would be broken. The Fae did not want that to happen, so they had the silver thing shattered.
I was working for a human who had gathered up all those pieces. He was a bass player for a metal band. I don’t know what his beef with the Fae was, but he had found the spot where the thing they controlled was buried and set up a concert over it.
Since I was the last one to touch the broken pieces, I got tracked down by the Fae knights (or whatever they were) right before the concert starts. They were being all smug and threatening, talking to each other about mortals and their tricks and how we thought we were so clever, but what sad little insects we really were. They had already been to my house and found smelting tools and whatnot, so they knew I had melted the silver thing down.
“And what do you make of that?” one said to the other and I immediately said: “Guitar Strings!”
That was when the guy started playing Murder One with the silver guitar strings (0:46) and the vibration rattled these two to the bone. They threw me out of the way to run to stop the guy, but the crowd all raised their lighters and that was the Fire of the Faithful. One of the knights turned to stone and the other one turned to wood. The thing in the ground was some kind of huge, seven foot crystal, and the music made it rise up from the ground in the middle of the concert. It was vibrating and turning black and shooting off purple lightning and then it exploded into nothing, so you know, best concert ever?
Weekend of Dreams
Oct. 9th, 2016 08:04 pmLast night, I dreamed that I had been exiled to a place where the forgotten things go. I was there and several kids in the grade I usually teach were there and I guess they were my class. I seemed to be in charge of them. There were other things there too. Random folklore creatures that had been forgotten and now were in this place. The frog-mouthed women who lived in the hayloft where bitter about it. The blacksmith with the head of a wolf spider was more accepting. There were all kinds of magical creatures that I had never heard of because they had been forgotten. There were also lots of semi-abandoned buildings in different stages of falling apart. I guess they had been forgotten too.
I didn’t know what I had done to be forgotten, but I was more worried about all the little kids. How did they all get there?
Me: Ok, there’s a situation….
HQ person in charge: Where’s the commander?
Me: I don’t really know, but I know that Megan is wearing her skin and calling himself Human Candace.
HQ PIC: …what?
And then behind me, the form of an Omnic wearing a torn and bloody human skin smashed against the booth window. Everybody flinched. The bottom of Megan’s face was visible through the gaping mouth of the skin.
Megan: I am Human Candace! We shall interact! That is what humans do!
Me: *holds up the clipboard where I’ve written HELP all over the paper*
HQ PIC: um
Megan: We could kiss!
Me: um
Megan: Humans enjoy kissing. Perhaps it is YOU who are not human!
Me: Human Candace! I am on the phone. Protocol demands you wait until communication is complete!
Megan:……………………..very well.
And then he sat down to wait right there and me and the HQ PIC had to find things to talk about until help could arrive.
Training tomorrow! We’ll see what happens.
not so serious moonlight
Jan. 11th, 2016 08:54 pm![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
There was a lot of talk about David Bowie today. I was barely out of bed when
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Yesterday, I had one that involved the five wives from Mad Max: Fury Road trying to escape from haunted house. I’ve had the haunted house dream before. There’s something new and awful in every room and you have to get through all of them to get out. Occasionally the ghosts of Bluebeard’s wives show up to help. They probably would’ve liked the five wives.
Last night’s dream involved the craft’s hut at my parents’ house and some kind of mission that involved people I don’t know. There was also a fish with some kind of parasite in place of its tongue. It wasn’t the jolly, Henson-esque little cymothoa exigua either. This thing looked like a gigantic set of grasshopper back legs sticking out of the fish’s mouth.
The thing was that everyone wanted to suck on those. We were passing around the fish so that everyone could have a turn. And that wasn’t a bit strange until I had to write it down. And now I’m horrified. I don’t even want to look that up in the dream dictionary.
In Dreams, I Need to Clean
Sep. 2nd, 2013 10:09 amThe most recent one was a bird. A chipper little black and white bird in a cage that hadn't been fed in who knows how long, still hopping and whistling on his perch. And the dream-guilt is horrible. How could I have forgotten my pet? It's a miracle he's even still alive! So I'll be scrambling to find him food and get him out of there because stuff is stuff, my poor little baby and how could I do this, how how how??
Then it will hit me that I have never owned a bird and there's no way I could afford a place this nice, especially to just leave it. If it ever had been mine, what made me forget about it, and if it hadn't ever been mine, what was making me think it was my mess to clean up? And then I wake up more disturbed than a messy apartment and an animal to save should make me.
( Luckily for me, I have a dream dictionary. )
Werewolf dreams
Aug. 3rd, 2013 09:42 pmAnd just for fun:
Stayed up too late watching the Oscars.
Feb. 25th, 2013 07:07 amMine started out with a child's voice singing "London Bridge is Falling Down" and there's this hush and then the scene cuts to London Bridge blowing up. There's a reaction shot from Mark Gatiss looking up. Then Big Ben explodes. Skyscape view with the sun going down behind the building with smoke from the two spots going up and then three more explosions flare up into it. Crowds are scrambling to get away except for the rest of the BBC Sherlock cast who are running towards the blast. Dramatic music a la Mind Heist is blaring and action hero types are pointing and shouting and Gary Oldman is there, but he backs into an alley and disappears. Suddenly it's night and all the lights blink out except for a cigarette lighter flame. The kid sings a mournful little "...myyyy fairrrrr lady...." as the cigarette is lit. And the flames reflect off the eyes of the smoker and there is maybe half a second to recognize Hugh Laurie being all scary and smirky before there's a boom and it all goes black.
Whatever that is, I would watch the hell out of it.

Finally, I have worked my way to the bathroom and I'm promising over my shoulder that I will do any and everything they say if I can just have a moment because I really, really have to pee. The dog is in the way again, blocking the toilet, so I have to wrestle him out into the hallway and slam the door and finally, I can take care of this. Once seated, I realize that the room is full of gigantic mosquitos. They are so big, they look like magnified photos. Mosquitos the size of jumbo shrimp. And they are everywhere. One lands on my thigh and I can see the three inch proboscis about to stab so I smack it and it just explodes with blood and the blood is sticky like wet cobwebs and I'm trying to get it off and trying to get covered so the others can't get me and why the hell are there giant mutant mosquitos in the bathroom?? And I woke up all stressed out.
Grah.
But, I've had a productive morning otherwise. Took the recycling to the center, returned the spice rack that doesn't fit in my cabinet, cleaned the car, and took it to get the oil changed. Now I watch a show about the yeti and clean the kitchen during commercials. Go, me!
There was also something about going back to week-long art camp at my old college, but none of the people I was friends with would talk to me so I ended up wandering around hallways and rooftops and that's how I stumbled onto the Sunday school room. There was also someone named Victor that I wanted to impress, but I don't know anybody in real life named Victor and he wasn't interested in hanging out in the dream either.
But still! John Waters! Teaching Sunday school!
dream house
Dec. 14th, 2011 04:04 pmI manage to get inside and the place is fully furnished, but dusty and covered with cobwebs. As I wonder through, sometimes there will be more people with me, and sometimes I'll be alone, but it is never long before we realize there is a body (or a skeleton) in each room. And the ghost of the dead person. It's like Bluebeard and he killed one of his wives in every room of the house and they were all still there.
Then, either I or the group I'm with start running from room to room and it's like a haunted house at an amusement park, with the running and screaming and things leaping out at us. But I was never really scared. I just knew I had to go through every room and wake up every ghost.
On waking, I would try to figure out what it meant, what I needed to go to every room for. Maybe I wanted all the ghosts chasing me so I could lead them out. Maybe the only way out was to go through the whole house. It was a reoccurring dream that I've had since I was a kid, so I had plenty of chances to see everything.
And then! The other day? On tumblr? I found a picture of a house that looks almost exactly like the one in the woods. It only needs to be black. I don't know what the source of the pic is, sorry to say. I thought I had saved the whole link, but I only saved the picture.

I'd live there, no matter what color it was painted.
Thanks, Inspiration Turtle!
Sep. 22nd, 2011 09:24 pmI've had a good fanfic run this week and I'm hoping I can do some of the October themes for
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In other news I had a dream I was babysitting for a neighbor and the Dad turned out to be a mover and shaker in the underworld, so some unsavory types came to kidnap the kid to hold over him. I didn't know that, I just knew men in black suits were shooting at me. So began a dream cross country escape. It was a blur of stealing cars, plugging bullet wounds with gas station tampons, and hiding live rattlesnakes where a pursuer would stumble upon them. I let the kid call his Dad to let him know everything was ok.
I don't remember how we got away and then got back, but I do remember saying that if a psychologist could ever trace any psychosis in the kid back to the trauma of the adventure, I would cheerfully refund the $20. That's a babysitting guarantee, right there.
List Logic
Jun. 22nd, 2011 10:31 amMeanwhile, I have a shopping day with my Mom planned so that should be fun. I also reeeeally need to clean the kitchen, which probably won't be. And do laundry... and finish painting the hall... and spackle the wall in the sun room... I should make a real list so that even if I don't get it all finished, I'll still have a list. Whatever sense that may make to anybody.
So I woke up enough to watch and the ghost took the form of my Grandma. She just stood there in my closet, shimmering and smiling, and I remember thinking 'I didn't even know she had died!', but she looked so sweet and happy, I wasn't upset.
I went back to sleep, and there was a dream-jump where my Mom called to tell me, and I told her I already knew and she asked how, and I said that I had just seen her ghost in the closet. … Or maybe I dreamed that conversation while sleeping in the original dream … I better check to see if the top is still spinning or something.
Anyway, I've been cruising the online dream dictionary to find out what it means, and wishing I knew where my actual dream dictionary was. My bet is on it being in the craft's hut back home, probably in a tupperware container. It won't be long before I can find out.
he is very charming
Dec. 1st, 2010 07:48 pmWednesday.
Most people can kind of lurch themselves out of nightmare when it gets bad. I myself have a few reoccurring nightmares that I can bail from as soon as I recognize what’s happening. (Uh-oh. It’s the long hallway with the stairs at the end. I’m out of here.)
Last night I woke myself up because I knew I was getting myself in trouble of a totally different kind. At about 1 am, I was on a talk show and had to snap myself out of telling Craig Ferguson what a jerk someone I used to know was and how I would play Devil’s advocate at every opportunity just to derail their vicious little tirades.
Now, I am a contrary little thing. I can’t help it. It’s in my nature. I am also non-confrontational, so instead of flat out telling someone they are being a jerk, I have to subtly undermine them instead. It has served me well in the past, but it kinda ruins the fun if they know I'm doing it and I was telling everybody about it on national tv! So, I had to shut myself up and wake up before Craig could charm any more secrets out of me.
So we’re having one of our usual visits. Then Oprah and Arsenio Hall show up. And the kid bolts for the back room. Only instead of the sliding thing, he is wrestling a plywood sheet over the door. I decide that we’re freaking him out (gee, ya think?) and I scoop up the containers and a pan I had found and start out the door. Behind me, Oprah and Arsenio both scream in alarm and I start running. Instead of an alley, it’s now the back corridor at work and I ducked into the D wing work room just to be out of sight. Just before I locked the door, I saw the kid run by, still holding the plywood, and that scared me so bad I woke up.
In that first few ‘gah!’ moments after waking up I came up with the panicked thought that maybe he had wanted the tupperware. I still haven’t figured out why that was scared me so badly in the dream.
In other news: Snow Day!
Most Dreams Have at Least One Crazy Line
Oct. 2nd, 2010 02:53 pmNot only where they going bonkers, but their bodies were transforming into cartoony twisted shapes. Kinda like these. A kid came up to me all freaked out and started bubbling liked bad claymation. He kept saying "I'm going, I'm going!" until I freaked and yelled "No, you're not!" and clubbed him over the head with my laptop. It didn't help. He turned into a gobliny thing, flapped his arms, and flew away. Yes, he did. And then up pops Collette and she says the crazy line from this dream, which was "He'd be a perfect pet for your gryphon."
If I hadn't been dodging the mutant children, I would've been very interested in this gryphon of mine, but while this went on a little girl with long blond hair went zombie. Her hair curled up into a poodle perm and her eyes got really blue until one cracked like glass and turned yellow. Then Collette started after me and I decided I had had enough and woke up.