kerydwenn: (yoruichi)
Here are my latest two:

* Following the posting of this picture on Facebook, I dreamt of that very coffee table, which was in the office of some unnamed general (I only know Rowan Atkinson was cast in the role), in some sci-fi series, sort of a crossing between Babylon 5 and Battlestar Galactica. A general who practiced necromancy—don't ask, and just blame my rewriting of Was for that. And he had a subordinate, who was also his apprentice in magic, and as he wanted to get rid of another lieutenant on the ship, he kept demanding said subordinate to plant cursed magical items in that man's room, so that he'd die. Except the lieutenant was Adrian Monk, and so, of course, he always noticed that something was wrong in the room, and managed to get rid of the item in time. In each episode.

Do I sense a strong potential for comedy here?

* Second dream (from the past night): I was with a group of people in a derelict and abandoned factory, which was probably somewhere in the Port du Rhin industrial area of Strasbourg. Can't tell who exactly was with us, but we were at least 5 people, including [personal profile] rapunzelita, and also Gwen from Merlin (yes, I've been watching Merlin recently). And an elder man who acted as our mentor and wanted to protect us. We were there as hostages, taken by a group of at least 10 guys all clad in black and balaclava masks, and were told that if we kept quiet during the whole night, until they were done with whatever they had to do, we would be released in the morning. Incidentally, the one telling us that was their boss, and he wasn't wearing a mask, so I did my best Emmeline Brown impersonation and blurted out something like "you're lying, you'll kill us, since we all have seen your face, so why bother keeping quiet?" Many things (often silly ones) happened, along the lines of our group trying to lay traps, pretending we had to go to the toilet (which was flooded and I had to stick my hand in the flooded hole to get some key—seriously, James Sunderland, leave my body!), blocking doors with barrels, and other useless tactics.

At some point, a woman sneaked in, saying she was from the police and was here to infiltrate the place, and [personal profile] rapunzelita went with her to help while I was trying to keep our captors distracted with telling them stories. Unfortunately, the cop got shot, and we had to figure out how to hide her and keep her alive without the terrorist/burglars/hostage-takers/whatever knowing where she was. The 'end' of the dream is already all blurred now—my phone alarm went off, and you can't avoid waking up with Silent Hill 1's opening theme blaring in your ears—and I just remembering there were also telepathic powers triggered, maybe along the lines of "anger and despair freed our inner powers, especially after we realized the woman's gun was actually an Evoker" (I guess using it made *some* kind of sense, then).

No kidding, if my therapist once asks me to tell him about my dreams, I wish him good luck to figure out what they reveal about me. Except that I probably watch too much TV these days.

September 2014

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