wolven7 | Dreams of Stage Fights, Icy Roads, and Espionage

venacava and I stage fighting with rapiers out of a house, onto its front porch, while another of her, with shorter hair looked on and told me that if I actually hurt the her with whom I was fighting, beyond a scratch, or two, there'd be hell to pay.

When we'd fought out onto the front porch, all of us (there were five people, total, three of whom I didn't recognise) noticed that it was ice storming, pretty bad, and that trucks and cars were crashing into each other, all over the road. As we watched, a car swerved across the centre lane and was immediately pulled over by the police, who then swerved into said car. Initially, I called everyone out to watch, because I thought it looked really cool, but as the crashes continued, I worried that the porch wouldn't be safe, and I started to feel bad for the people crashing, so I sent everyone back inside.

Back in the house, the inside wasn't just home interior; it was a school, and a mall, and a city. Like a hidden floating market, only inside my house. Wandering around, inside, I find food stalls and people I know, going to the movies, and all kinds of things. I wander, and go to the movies.

Coming out of the movies, with mech_angel, I find $30 on the ground, in the aisle. I pick it up and look around to see who it could belong to. Not seeing anyone, I pocket it. Coming out of the theater doors, I find eight dollars, on the ground. A five and three singles. Again, I look around, and this time I see a group of girls. I ask them, "Are any of you missing some money?" The lead girl, a black girl with a distinctly teenaged punk/hip-hop crossover "style" about her, and a mowhawk, looks at me and says "If it were me, then yeah." Then she smiles and says "But no. Not this time." So I pocket the money. I notice chunks of banana, on the floor.

There's some kind of food poisoning epidemic going around, and I need to get to the bottom of it. I find out that there is what most consider to be a erally good seafood restaurant, just down the road, in my neighbourhood (a combination of where I live now, and where I used to live, and the area around Grady High School), and I determine to check it out. I wander around, a while, and there's a party in the House, and now I'm Willow. I'm trying to find out what's going on. It's the essence of the first time I meet Tara, and something has made her sicken, and I know that it is something both scientific and magical, with a cure needed, in both places; and I know that some of the found money is hers. I find her in the movie theater bathroom, by walking through the school parking lot, and noticing that there are small patches of vomit, leading to the doors. I spit into the trashcan whatever small amount of whatever sickness has latched on to me, and I find her, and I tell her that it'll be okay, that I've figured out the sickness. She tells me that it won't work; she thinks that the only reason she's sick is that there's a demon inside of her, and it's killing her. That's only half of the problem.

I'm back outside, and I'm me. I've wandered to the seafood place-- more aptly a clam shack-- to investigate what can be found, there. I sit, for a while, at a table left uncleaned, and I notice an uneaten clam, sitting on a plate. I grab a knife, and finish it. I'm sitting, calmly looking around, taking everything in, and I realise that, beyond a beautiful afternoon, there is nothing here. I gather my things into my backpack, and I ask the lady and gentleman in the next booth if they have the time. The man, a southern, prep-schooled, entitled asshool, begins a diatribe, asking how Dare I think to talk to him, to ask him what time it is, and so on, and so forth. As he does this, I continue calmly packing my things, and straightening my table, and the woman with him sees that I'm ignoring him, and she is highly amused by that fact. It just makes him angrier. He starts threatening me, sdaying he could make all of my works and life disappear, in the blink of an eye, because he's got money and connections. I look him in the eye, leaning over the table, and I say, "And I will then sue you into the ground, and have you disappeared." As he sits in stunned silence I grin and ask "Have you ever heard of the DOD?" He stammers, trying to recover face, by condescending, "You're not even old enough to know what that stands for." I say "I'm 26, two weeks ago, asshole. And all I wanted was the time."

The woman gets up and walks off downt he street, in the direction of the school parking lot, and he begins to walk after her. I leave, heading across the street to the sidewalk near the parking lot, as he turns right, instead of following her, and goes to their car, instead. I'm crouched between two very long cars which are parked very close to each other, on the sidewalk. They're at a ver accute angle, so what seemed like I could walk through became something I would have to climb over. She's walked past the school, not even noticing it, and his back is completely to me. I wait until something passes between me and the woman as, on the street, a car goes between me and the man, and I hop over the vertex of the cars' front bumpers, and duck into the school's parking lot, knowing that I would be safe, here. I notice that there are patches of vomit, on the asphalt. I wake up

So, all of the places in my head have become kind of jumbled into one big place. Which would explain the feeling of conceptual claustrophobia, lately. And I seemed to fall back on my parents, at the end, there. Parents and other connections. I don't know how I feel about that.

The guy was like a combination of Richard Branson and an even bigger asshole. Very perturbing.

Time for breakfast.