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amulI just woke up from the most delicious nightmare.
As near as I can piece together, it began with my three companions and I pulling up to an empty house, on an empty street, in an empty city. This is all I knew, at that moment. The dream world had not picked up any details to share with me yet. I only knew the van, the house, the emptiness, and three companions.
Opening up the door, I knew the figure of the Old Wretch, the weary ancient man who drove the van. He muttered something like "Seems like as good a house as any." I knew then that I sat in the back, and the Frightened Child slept in my lap, clutching her Toy (still indistinct in my mind). I nudged her awake and gently pulled the hair from her face, asking if she was hungry.
The Tantric Sorceress brooded in the front passenger seat, smelling a trap. Thin, buxom, yet oddly innocent, she was the reason for our quest. Wordlessly, she consented to the demands of our hunger and our tiredness.
Then we were in a small kitchen, with a bay window. An ancient bubble-esque fridge held food. Lots of porcelain ware, each holding an entire meal for one. I pulled out one, a hamburger with a single bite taken from it. Next was thick portion of steak, with one piece missing. The other foods were all the same, perfectly made, appetizing to the eye, and each missing a single bite.
The Child put her Stuffed Animal on the seat next to her, and fussed with tying a napkin around its neck. She did this with a sort of grim determination, willing to play her role for as long as was needed to let us reach our goal, although I knew such foolishness had been ground out of her long ago, when she had seen the horrors of the valley.
As I picked a dish at random, only because it had the carving knife with it, the light began to grow dim and my companions began to fall asleep. A nameless sense of horror began to grow as the light fell. By the time I stepped to the table, the light was too indistinct to see them. In fury, I slammed the food onto the table roaring, "We haven't even eaten yet!"
They awoke to the growing horror, and the sound of a gramophone became evident. A voice was taunting our desires, speaking nonsense cobbled together from her thousand incarnations in a thousand worlds. "Oh, the madness just won't stop. First the Miami Vice movie, and what next?" she chided. "I know! Uncle Berrybuck! Christopher Lloyd playing Uncle Berrybuck, with Patrick Steinway as the Godfather! Wouldn't that just be a granium hit?" She laughed the bone-chilling laugh of an evil villain about to unleash undreamt of terror.
Trying to play it cool for the child, I put a cigarette in my mouth. "Sorceress," I asked, "Could you lend a hand? She's not in the room, else we'd see her. She must be using magic to scry on us!" As I tried to light it, a strong breeze came at me from all directions. Feigning fury (although a very real sense of dread was rising in me), I shuffled this way and that, trying desperately to light my cigarette.
Meanwhile, the Sorceress, whose mystic powers were fueled by sexual energy, had a sudden idea. Seeing that I was acting as a distraction, she grabbed the Old Man's hand, and pushed it under her dress, and began recalling the words of a silent spell.
The terror in me was at an all time high, coming from nowhere more concrete than the mystic energies of the Evil Queen. I knew then that she, like our own sweet innocent questor, whom each of us were beginning to love, fueled her dark magics through sex rites. My understanding of the Queen grew as the Princess's spell neared completion, and I could picture the vile woman in her scrying chamber, with a chained slave kneeling before and aft, tongues buried in her body as she made arcane gestures into a gold gilded mirror.
The terror in me was heart pounding, so fierce that I knew the Princess has cast a Spell of Revelation, for not only could I perceive the source of my misery, but I also knew that I was dreaming, and yet not dreaming. In some distant world, some barely understood Other Place, this was real. The Queen had joined her consciousness across the parallel worlds, but we all existed in them. In that world, she had done something to it's version of me, ensnared him somehow, and some guiding hand had pulled my sleeping consciousness into his body to direct save her.
I turned my head, and saw the point of mystic intrusion, the tiny window, no more than a pinprick wide, which magnified and slightly distorted as it expanded what it saw into that palatial scrying mirror. I stepped boldly towards it, and swung my fist, careful to let the whole arc be visible, careful that my aim be true.
With a sudden jolt, the connection between Queen and country was shorted out. I laughed a hard laugh as I pictured the Queen falling backward, and landing with her ass on the face of the servant behind her -- a childhood friend who had been stripped of all individuality by her evil methods. He had loved to eat ass as a young man, and I chuckled at the hope that this might revive some memory in him.
The terror was fading away, and so was I. I awoke with a start, trembling, and recorded what I could remember here.
Edit: 6 AM And now I can't sleep.
As near as I can piece together, it began with my three companions and I pulling up to an empty house, on an empty street, in an empty city. This is all I knew, at that moment. The dream world had not picked up any details to share with me yet. I only knew the van, the house, the emptiness, and three companions.
Opening up the door, I knew the figure of the Old Wretch, the weary ancient man who drove the van. He muttered something like "Seems like as good a house as any." I knew then that I sat in the back, and the Frightened Child slept in my lap, clutching her Toy (still indistinct in my mind). I nudged her awake and gently pulled the hair from her face, asking if she was hungry.
The Tantric Sorceress brooded in the front passenger seat, smelling a trap. Thin, buxom, yet oddly innocent, she was the reason for our quest. Wordlessly, she consented to the demands of our hunger and our tiredness.
Then we were in a small kitchen, with a bay window. An ancient bubble-esque fridge held food. Lots of porcelain ware, each holding an entire meal for one. I pulled out one, a hamburger with a single bite taken from it. Next was thick portion of steak, with one piece missing. The other foods were all the same, perfectly made, appetizing to the eye, and each missing a single bite.
The Child put her Stuffed Animal on the seat next to her, and fussed with tying a napkin around its neck. She did this with a sort of grim determination, willing to play her role for as long as was needed to let us reach our goal, although I knew such foolishness had been ground out of her long ago, when she had seen the horrors of the valley.
As I picked a dish at random, only because it had the carving knife with it, the light began to grow dim and my companions began to fall asleep. A nameless sense of horror began to grow as the light fell. By the time I stepped to the table, the light was too indistinct to see them. In fury, I slammed the food onto the table roaring, "We haven't even eaten yet!"
They awoke to the growing horror, and the sound of a gramophone became evident. A voice was taunting our desires, speaking nonsense cobbled together from her thousand incarnations in a thousand worlds. "Oh, the madness just won't stop. First the Miami Vice movie, and what next?" she chided. "I know! Uncle Berrybuck! Christopher Lloyd playing Uncle Berrybuck, with Patrick Steinway as the Godfather! Wouldn't that just be a granium hit?" She laughed the bone-chilling laugh of an evil villain about to unleash undreamt of terror.
Trying to play it cool for the child, I put a cigarette in my mouth. "Sorceress," I asked, "Could you lend a hand? She's not in the room, else we'd see her. She must be using magic to scry on us!" As I tried to light it, a strong breeze came at me from all directions. Feigning fury (although a very real sense of dread was rising in me), I shuffled this way and that, trying desperately to light my cigarette.
Meanwhile, the Sorceress, whose mystic powers were fueled by sexual energy, had a sudden idea. Seeing that I was acting as a distraction, she grabbed the Old Man's hand, and pushed it under her dress, and began recalling the words of a silent spell.
The terror in me was at an all time high, coming from nowhere more concrete than the mystic energies of the Evil Queen. I knew then that she, like our own sweet innocent questor, whom each of us were beginning to love, fueled her dark magics through sex rites. My understanding of the Queen grew as the Princess's spell neared completion, and I could picture the vile woman in her scrying chamber, with a chained slave kneeling before and aft, tongues buried in her body as she made arcane gestures into a gold gilded mirror.
The terror in me was heart pounding, so fierce that I knew the Princess has cast a Spell of Revelation, for not only could I perceive the source of my misery, but I also knew that I was dreaming, and yet not dreaming. In some distant world, some barely understood Other Place, this was real. The Queen had joined her consciousness across the parallel worlds, but we all existed in them. In that world, she had done something to it's version of me, ensnared him somehow, and some guiding hand had pulled my sleeping consciousness into his body to direct save her.
I turned my head, and saw the point of mystic intrusion, the tiny window, no more than a pinprick wide, which magnified and slightly distorted as it expanded what it saw into that palatial scrying mirror. I stepped boldly towards it, and swung my fist, careful to let the whole arc be visible, careful that my aim be true.
With a sudden jolt, the connection between Queen and country was shorted out. I laughed a hard laugh as I pictured the Queen falling backward, and landing with her ass on the face of the servant behind her -- a childhood friend who had been stripped of all individuality by her evil methods. He had loved to eat ass as a young man, and I chuckled at the hope that this might revive some memory in him.
The terror was fading away, and so was I. I awoke with a start, trembling, and recorded what I could remember here.
Edit: 6 AM And now I can't sleep.
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no subject
Date: 4 Apr 2007 15:23 (UTC)Also, can you maybe write scads of hot str0ypr0n? I get the idea you would be good at it.
no subject
Date: 4 Apr 2007 21:31 (UTC)Incidentally, that's maybe the best compliment I've ever had.
I'm pretty lousy at writing, by which I mean the act of creating a complete story that has a suitable beginning, middle, climax and denouement. I'm a storyteller. I tell better than I write.
So if you ever want someone to talk/type dirty to you while you get yourself off, I'm your man. But I tend to feel pretty silly writing it all down for lengthy review.
no subject
Date: 5 Apr 2007 02:40 (UTC)Oh, I am SO tucking that information away for future use.
Are you going to DragonCon this summer? Any other events that a Pittsburgh expatriate might be drawn to?
no subject
Date: 5 Apr 2007 13:25 (UTC)Unfortunately, the school still doesn't seem to think that I'm a full student there, so they might not let me.
no subject
Date: 5 Apr 2007 13:27 (UTC)If I'm here, I'll be at Origins and GenCon, natch.
Other than that, I'm kind of avoiding the con-circuit this year. Got a bit drama-heavy last year for me.