tirsdendreams: (unknown danger)
This started as me watching a movie in a theater, and during one of the previews I noticed that the music was the theme to Raising Arizona, the one that plays during the opening credits. I said as much out loud, but nobody seemed to care. I wondered to myself if this was just trailer music or if they'd actually use it in the film. Then the movie proper started, and the first identifiable character was Bill Pullman playing someone who worked on a farm, or so it would seem since he was riding a tractor. Perhaps he was the son of the farm's owner, the feeling was that he was more than just a farmhand. The time period seemed dated, perhaps the 1930's or 40's.

Then he was walking along an orchard path with two girls, one probably in her mid 20's right next to him and the other, a teenager perhaps 14 or 15 following behind. I became the girl who was following. Bill (let's call him that because I have no idea what his character name was) and the other girl were talking, and it was obvious she was trying to be sweet on him. He seemed to be acting a little bashful over that, but wasn't being totally sweet back at her. They had very distinct southern accents, perhaps even a bit overdone (as Nostalgia Critic would say, "I'm acting!").

My own accent I knew was far different from theirs, "normal" in my opinion but an outsider here, me being a city girl from up north just visiting for the summer or something. I'd visited before, these people were family friends, maybe distant cousins... and I also liked Bill, but I wondered if he even knew I existed in that sense. (I had an inkling here of the grander plot that my character wouldn't know, that I might be surprised how much attention he actually paid me, but that he might not guess at my thoughts due to my age and not being there all the time.)

There were a lot of bright yellow flowers on the trees we were passing, and some other trees were more like tulip trees with I think pink flowers that were bulkier. I picked one of the yellow ones, it had a lot of soft petals and I smelled it as I kept following the others. I picked a second flower, and then the girl sounded like she was going to break into song. I remember thinking something like "Is this movie a musical? I had no idea..." and was hoping it wasn't going to be sucktastic (I like good musicals and well I didn't like this woman so my opinion was already a bit tainted at least of this number... nevermind that there was still the floating thought that this was a movie even though it was becoming more and more that the movie's plot and world were the real world completely).

The song ended up being something that I sang in tandem with her, and it started with the first verse of "These Are a Few of My Favorite Things" (from The Sound Of Music). It would seem we'd practiced this to performance level, for a local talent show that we'd already done. I had the melody after her, and a made-up bit of completely original tune and words (which I can't remember now) and then she had her own bit after me. We even did a bit of almost folk-type dancing together, and as this was going on... the setting went from broad daylight to night without my noticing any great flaw in the logic.

Our path had taken us into a hayfield or something similar, and the section where we were now as her song part continued seemed freshly mowed. Due to how dark it was, I was feeling uncomfortable about the odd mown layer of grass-like clippings on the ground over the inch-high remaining stalks. I think the singing stopped, and I was wondering to myself how safe it was to be out here this late, perhaps we should go back...

I was a bit further ahead of the others, and suddenly my head started to hurt. I put my hand to my forehead and fell backwards, at least the ground was kind of soft and I don't remember that being an issue. What I do remember is saying, "It's happening again!" like I'd forgotten about this but was now remembering that something had happened before. I could hear the others sounding concerned in the distance, Bill I think shouted something, but all I could really do was look up at the clear night sky with its billions of stars.

Suddenly all was completely silent. I think I said something like, "Is someone there?" and my voice sounded weirdly echoey, like I was suddenly in a completely different space I couldn't see. I could see my own reflection slightly, a little bit above me, which didn't make sense, but there it was. Then there was a bright blue-white light that seemed to come from nowhere in the stars and got bigger and brighter very fast, coming straight at me and engulfing me and I screamed in fear and tried to raise my arms up in front of my face.

I felt a strong pull and knew that whatever it was, it had captured me. It was too bright to see but I had the impression of a great deal of speed and travel upwards into the sky and beyond. Once I could see again, I found myself in a very strange, smallish... room-thing. (Being as this was a time period when space travel didn't exist, along with a lot of established sci-fi conventions, "I" was very confused by a layout that wouldn't be all that unconventional for a modern day mind.) If I had been able to move properly, I might have been able to touch the sides of the grey metal shaft that I seemed to be at the top of, and the front and back would have been barely in reach. The walls to the left and right of me didn't have a sharp corner up above, but a more gentle curve up to a flat ceiling not real far above me. I think there was a window to my right, where I could see outer space, but I was too afraid to be distracted by that.

I was being held in place by glass inch-thick plate-like separators that seemed to extend from the walls horizontally and had holes in them to fit my neck, my chest at about my elbows, and probably a couple more points down lower. I couldn't really see what was down below me. Being stuck like this was frightening but it didn't really hurt because I was technically floating. I didn't know if something was supposed to happen to me, or had already happened to me, but I knew I couldn't remember anything so detailed as this from before and wondered if I was more conscious than whoever this was... aliens... thought I was.

The plates started to retract away from me, having even splits in them and pulling into the walls, and then part of the wall in front of me slid down, revealing a window where behind was a boy maybe my age or a little older. He was wearing a grey jumpsuit and had brown hair that was roughly shoulder-length and in an unconventional style (vaguely emo-ish). We stared at each other for a moment, he looked just as confused as I'm sure I did, and then I realized that I was being drawn downwards by an unseen force.

He started banging on the window and shouting, "Let me out!" as the force became faster, and I could tell he wasn't yelling at me, more at whoever was doing this. I lost sight of him quickly though and suddenly couldn't see, the world growing very dark. I felt a strong push backwards, very strong, the same unknown force that never actually seemed to touch me. Then backwards became down, and fast, as if that direction had always been down, and I felt like I hit something soft so fast that it stunned me.

I realized my eyes were closed and most of my body unresponsive, but I could move my left hand and felt around. I was recognizing my own bed (not my real-life one, but this dream was continuing to supply built-in-past facts as needed). I concentrated on waking up, though I knew what I'd just been through wasn't a dream, and I had no idea how long I'd been back, what the others had seen, or how my return had been explained to my parents in the house below, or if they even knew I was back. I had a feeling they did, that somehow what had happened could be explained away and that they'd call me crazy or over-imaginative for telling the truth... which I was going to to anyways. Meanwhile I was able to get up finally and felt really fuzzy, like my body was still half asleep.

I got off the top bunk of the bunk beds I slept in and knew I had to draw what I could remember. I was also thinking about the boy, wondering if he was trapped there indefinitely and wondering if there was some way to save him. Plus, he was cute, and I had to wonder if we'd met before but I just couldn't remember. I tried to find paper and a working pencil, also pulling down the blinds and closing curtains nearby thinking that the aliens might still be watching me and might not want me to be able to remember so much of what I'd seen this time. I had trouble with the curtains, and eventually called it good and tried to turn on a light to see better, but that barely did anything at all (and I remember saying out loud, "oh, so it's going to be like that," as a reference to lights not working properly in dreams, but I didn't catch this thought well enough to make it a true lucid dream).

I ended up leafing through a large newsprint-like sketchpad and finding a half-cut-up scrap and an ink pen. I drew the top area of the ship I'd been trapped in, just the general shape of it and without the concept of the window(s) or the boy. I drew it really badly, I seemed to be having trouble getting the concept of drawing to cooperate, but by the end of it I had at least the shape and the idea that it had a lot of rivets down on paper. I tore the drawing out of the sketchpad and headed for the door.

Then I woke up.

tirsdendreams: (leave it all behind)
I thought I woke up from a previous dream, and hadn't opened my eyes. It only took me a moment to realize someone was sleeping with me, and I was very tangled up with them. It seemed to be a guy, in a rather unfamiliar build, kinda in-shape if not completely on the slender end. The background from the dream was merging with what would be reality for me if I had woken up, and some part of my brain wondered if someone from the dream-life had gotten drunk and crawled into bed with me, and I just hadn't registered that there was anything particularly wrong with it. Until now.

I was also realizing at this point, that it was a dream. And I was kinda thinking I didn't want to wake up from it. I had enough of a vague idea of "life" in the dream to know things were vastly different from real life, and some the positive things from real life weren't managing to register in the dream. Meanwhile, my bed partner woke up and it turned out to be none other than Geordi La Forge. I'm not kidding. I have no idea why my subconscious picked this particular individual, but there he was, and apparently he was my boyfriend. He said good morning to me and started getting up and dressed like this was perfectly normal. Meanwhile I knew it was a dream, and yet I also half-knew that the background for this dream was a fairytale life sort of thing. My room was definitely not my real-life room, I knew I was rich and that my family was rich, and I was dating somebody from the starship Enterprise. (Logic? Who needs logic. Yeah this was a modern day setting, minus the blind guy with the visor that lets him see.)

I forget exactly what I said but I did tell him I was dreaming, and that I was afraid I was going to wake up. I didn't want him to leave, fearing that I wouldn't make it through the day to see him again, and he was such a nice guy. But in this dream he had a life and a job and needed to get on with it, and seemed very confident and positive that I would make it to the end of the day to see him again. I was still in bed and he started poking around me in the sheets trying to find something he'd lost, and finally did find it. It was his communicator, which he started talking into as if it were a cell phone (not the just "stick it to your shirt and talk" version). He was checking in with the ship or something, then said goodbye to me and left. He didn't beam up or anything, he just walked out the door.

So there I was still in bed. Being as I usually have trouble (more trouble than this) holding onto a dream once I become lucid, I had a feeling that getting out of bed would lose the dream. I did actually manage to get out of bed and dressed in a nice party dress; I think I actually looked a bit different in the dream, blonde curly hair in ringlets sorta and girly-pretty. I decided to leave my room and try to see what the rest of this fairy-tale life was like, and all I'm going to say here because of who was there was that it was like my subconscious was trying to redefine a broken past and make everything different and very much better. That those people were in the dream at all sucked though, wish my subconscious had substituted in some other fictional characters. I started to lose track of the fact that it was a dream, and eventually...

...I woke up. Without seeing Geordi again. Aww.

tirsdendreams: (down the bunny pit)
About five days ago I had several dreams in a row in which I thought or said I was tired and that I needed to go to sleep. Sometimes I even realized I was dreaming as I said that, and made a point of remembering the irony for whenever I woke up.

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Character Sheet

Description:
There's a land somewhere deep in Tirsden's subconscious where chaos holds sway and pigs fly.

Strengths:
Often vivid and exciting, like a script yet to be written.

Weaknesses:
Nightmares and episodes of wakefulness.

Special Skills:
Flying, gender switching, lucidity.

Weapons:
Dream logic.

Special Moments:
Being Riddick and kicking ass. Being "Bea" from Kill Bill and kicking ass. Being Indiana Jones and kicking ass. Generally... kicking ass!