"This is not a game"
Jan. 14th, 2005 13:45![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torquillI'm still oversleeping (11 hours today) and waking up far later than I want to. I need it, I guess -- I've been procrastinating fiercely, which is a sign of exhaustion for me. It's still annoying.
It does make for some odd dreams, however.
The one I'm thinking of that I had last night was preceded by some Bash-like crash space hunting, but I'm kind of vague on that (except that someone actually was in the bathtub). What I recall more vividly was a bunch of us piling out for an expedition, much like the trip to Grey Wolf and whatever at the Bash -- Friday night and Bash regulars all, a loose group of perhaps fifteen. We weren't getting into cars, though, which was doubly odd because the expedition was to Disneyland.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
knaveofhearts was one of the few people I could swear was there, because I could hear him talking (and, well, he really likes Disneyland). As we walked down the wide sidewalk/promenade/courtyard which must have been close to the gates, we met up with a few other people -- and come to think of it, brunnhilde and johno were at the front, hugging the newcomers. There was one person I was glad to see had gotten off work in time to join us, and we hugged and exchanged pleasantries and started off with the rest.
knaveofhearts was telling all of us that we should at least have time to explore the southeast part of the park; I got the feeling he hadn't had a chance to see that part lately, and the rest of us were much less familiar with the place. (And knaveofhearts, if you do guide a group of people on something like this, I hope you aren't knitting as you walk -- I was worried you would trip.)
The weirdest part: the place was deserted. Nobody there but us. No staff, no guests, despite the fact that it was late afternoon -- it had recently rained a little, enough to make the streets a bit damp, but it was sunny and clear as we walked. I remarked on this to someone else, who couldn't make heads or tails of it either... I looked at my watch, which said 17:36, and I shrugged and guessed that the park must close at 6 on a Sunday and everyone had cleared out early. Ridiculous if it's Disneyland, but that was all I could figure.
The place where we started out was a sidewalk on a street, with all sorts of cartoon moldings and decorations and signs and such; I was bouncing a bit, happy to be there... even though I have a deep dislike for the place in waking life. I've never been a Disney fan, and the one time I did go to Disneyland I got scraped off like the third wheel I was and was left to wander the whole day by myself. Needless to say, I have very few good memories of the place. But I was with a whole group of adult friends this time, and I was happy.
Since I have few memories of the actual park, it didn't seem strange when it started to meld with a real park -- tall grassy hills, small groves of trees, ponds that looked a lot more like the wide spot of a forest stream than a tame pond at an amusement park. I've been to Great America many times, and some of it reminded me of the back corners there, but it was definitely running more toward state park than theme park after a while.
My friend and I got separated from the group at some point; they were all taking a pretty distinct road to the southeast, though, so we figured we could catch up. What followed was an over-hill-over-dale sort of chase, walking quickly along the path when we could and taking shortcuts across fields and (in one case) even a pond. I was dripping wet when I climbed out of the pond, my friend didn't seem to be, but it was getting to be twilight and it was hard to tell.
After the pond, the path curved up through a patch of pine trees; it was getting pretty dark in there, but we could still see where we were going, and there was a clear patch in sight after we rounded the hill. I almost stepped on a fallen sign -- the galvanized aluminum of the unpainted back gleamed in the half-light. About forty feet farther along we came to another sign just like it, hung by a chain from a wooden stand... its back was to us, but it was pretty obviously an outline of a cartoon-human's head, and we could see two more farther up. Must be some sort of feature, I thought, and started to walk on -- but there was a sticker on the back of the sign, black type on a yellow rectangle. We looked at it, and my friend read it aloud: "This is not a game." We shrugged at each other and walked halfway to the next signpost before I realized that it might be a good idea to hang the first sign up again.
Turning back, I thought I could see another person in the gloom, approaching the first post. I called back, "Hey, could you hang that sign up again?" The friend with me produced a flashlight to shine it on the fallen sign (It was getting really dark under the trees) and I heard a "What?" I repeated the question as another person dropped down from the trees to join the first one, and I got an "Oh, okay" and saw them start to hang the sign up again in the gloom.
The next thing I know, the pair of them had stepped back about ten feet from the sign and taken an unmistakeable pose -- right arm straight out, shoulders back. There were several reports and accompanying clangs from the aluminum as they riddled the sign with pellet guns, and cried gleefully, "The brother, the brother is dead!" My friend and I looked at each other, then back at the two men as the sign then burst into flame.
This is not a game. I thought of the sticker and turned, pushing my way through the brush obscuring part of the road in front of us. I thought my companion was following me as I broke into a run, but about a hundred feet down the road, he wasn't there. I turned, trying to see back into the trees where they overhung the road, and couldn't see him. I called his name, trying to get it to carry rather than yelling it for the weird people to hear, waiting for him to jog out of the trees, but he didn't. I called several more times, louder, then ran back. Thirty feet from the entrance to the trees, I could see clearly enough under them to see him lying across the road, with two dogs standing guard (one at his head, one at his feet). He wasn't sprawled like he had fallen, rather like he had been ordered to lie down. I took one look at the dogs and ran.
They followed me, sure enough. I recovered enough sense to start yelling "Help" on each exhalation, and stumbled up the hill; somehow we had gained a lot more altitude, and there was a pretty steep slope to the left where the road curved around another hill. There was a dog lying there, where the road curved, watching me. It didn't get up as I vaulted it (I must have been the quick brown fox), and as I rounded the hill I could see the rest of our friends... the road widened to form a viewpoint or (if it had been a vehicle road) a turnout, and they were all clustered around what looked like a granite monolith... the general outline of the stone looked sort of like the Empire State Building, with the shallow indentations as it tapers upward, but it obviously wasn't even attempting to be anything other than what it was.
And it was alive. I got that feeling as I collapsed at its "feet" -- I was addressing the stone when I gasped that my friend was still back there, with all of our other friends standing there mute. I think they had been talking to the stone, or at least they knew it could be spoken to, as they didn't think I was weird for doing so. And it replied, something to the effect that it would go back with me, then. The dream started to fragment as a lever dropped into a slot at the base of the stone, and we were somehow teleported to the space under the pine trees; its appearance made the issue of the two strange men moot, but whether it was because they fled or were immobilized/killed, I don't really know. The dream ended as I stepped down off the foot of the stone to kneel next to my friend, still lying across the path.
It didn't feel like he was hurt, at least. It's still the sort of dream that makes me want to call people to check.
It does make for some odd dreams, however.
The one I'm thinking of that I had last night was preceded by some Bash-like crash space hunting, but I'm kind of vague on that (except that someone actually was in the bathtub). What I recall more vividly was a bunch of us piling out for an expedition, much like the trip to Grey Wolf and whatever at the Bash -- Friday night and Bash regulars all, a loose group of perhaps fifteen. We weren't getting into cars, though, which was doubly odd because the expedition was to Disneyland.
knaveofhearts was one of the few people I could swear was there, because I could hear him talking (and, well, he really likes Disneyland). As we walked down the wide sidewalk/promenade/courtyard which must have been close to the gates, we met up with a few other people -- and come to think of it, brunnhilde and johno were at the front, hugging the newcomers. There was one person I was glad to see had gotten off work in time to join us, and we hugged and exchanged pleasantries and started off with the rest.knaveofhearts was telling all of us that we should at least have time to explore the southeast part of the park; I got the feeling he hadn't had a chance to see that part lately, and the rest of us were much less familiar with the place. (And knaveofhearts, if you do guide a group of people on something like this, I hope you aren't knitting as you walk -- I was worried you would trip.)The weirdest part: the place was deserted. Nobody there but us. No staff, no guests, despite the fact that it was late afternoon -- it had recently rained a little, enough to make the streets a bit damp, but it was sunny and clear as we walked. I remarked on this to someone else, who couldn't make heads or tails of it either... I looked at my watch, which said 17:36, and I shrugged and guessed that the park must close at 6 on a Sunday and everyone had cleared out early. Ridiculous if it's Disneyland, but that was all I could figure.
The place where we started out was a sidewalk on a street, with all sorts of cartoon moldings and decorations and signs and such; I was bouncing a bit, happy to be there... even though I have a deep dislike for the place in waking life. I've never been a Disney fan, and the one time I did go to Disneyland I got scraped off like the third wheel I was and was left to wander the whole day by myself. Needless to say, I have very few good memories of the place. But I was with a whole group of adult friends this time, and I was happy.
Since I have few memories of the actual park, it didn't seem strange when it started to meld with a real park -- tall grassy hills, small groves of trees, ponds that looked a lot more like the wide spot of a forest stream than a tame pond at an amusement park. I've been to Great America many times, and some of it reminded me of the back corners there, but it was definitely running more toward state park than theme park after a while.
My friend and I got separated from the group at some point; they were all taking a pretty distinct road to the southeast, though, so we figured we could catch up. What followed was an over-hill-over-dale sort of chase, walking quickly along the path when we could and taking shortcuts across fields and (in one case) even a pond. I was dripping wet when I climbed out of the pond, my friend didn't seem to be, but it was getting to be twilight and it was hard to tell.
After the pond, the path curved up through a patch of pine trees; it was getting pretty dark in there, but we could still see where we were going, and there was a clear patch in sight after we rounded the hill. I almost stepped on a fallen sign -- the galvanized aluminum of the unpainted back gleamed in the half-light. About forty feet farther along we came to another sign just like it, hung by a chain from a wooden stand... its back was to us, but it was pretty obviously an outline of a cartoon-human's head, and we could see two more farther up. Must be some sort of feature, I thought, and started to walk on -- but there was a sticker on the back of the sign, black type on a yellow rectangle. We looked at it, and my friend read it aloud: "This is not a game." We shrugged at each other and walked halfway to the next signpost before I realized that it might be a good idea to hang the first sign up again.
Turning back, I thought I could see another person in the gloom, approaching the first post. I called back, "Hey, could you hang that sign up again?" The friend with me produced a flashlight to shine it on the fallen sign (It was getting really dark under the trees) and I heard a "What?" I repeated the question as another person dropped down from the trees to join the first one, and I got an "Oh, okay" and saw them start to hang the sign up again in the gloom.
The next thing I know, the pair of them had stepped back about ten feet from the sign and taken an unmistakeable pose -- right arm straight out, shoulders back. There were several reports and accompanying clangs from the aluminum as they riddled the sign with pellet guns, and cried gleefully, "The brother, the brother is dead!" My friend and I looked at each other, then back at the two men as the sign then burst into flame.
This is not a game. I thought of the sticker and turned, pushing my way through the brush obscuring part of the road in front of us. I thought my companion was following me as I broke into a run, but about a hundred feet down the road, he wasn't there. I turned, trying to see back into the trees where they overhung the road, and couldn't see him. I called his name, trying to get it to carry rather than yelling it for the weird people to hear, waiting for him to jog out of the trees, but he didn't. I called several more times, louder, then ran back. Thirty feet from the entrance to the trees, I could see clearly enough under them to see him lying across the road, with two dogs standing guard (one at his head, one at his feet). He wasn't sprawled like he had fallen, rather like he had been ordered to lie down. I took one look at the dogs and ran.
They followed me, sure enough. I recovered enough sense to start yelling "Help" on each exhalation, and stumbled up the hill; somehow we had gained a lot more altitude, and there was a pretty steep slope to the left where the road curved around another hill. There was a dog lying there, where the road curved, watching me. It didn't get up as I vaulted it (I must have been the quick brown fox), and as I rounded the hill I could see the rest of our friends... the road widened to form a viewpoint or (if it had been a vehicle road) a turnout, and they were all clustered around what looked like a granite monolith... the general outline of the stone looked sort of like the Empire State Building, with the shallow indentations as it tapers upward, but it obviously wasn't even attempting to be anything other than what it was.
And it was alive. I got that feeling as I collapsed at its "feet" -- I was addressing the stone when I gasped that my friend was still back there, with all of our other friends standing there mute. I think they had been talking to the stone, or at least they knew it could be spoken to, as they didn't think I was weird for doing so. And it replied, something to the effect that it would go back with me, then. The dream started to fragment as a lever dropped into a slot at the base of the stone, and we were somehow teleported to the space under the pine trees; its appearance made the issue of the two strange men moot, but whether it was because they fled or were immobilized/killed, I don't really know. The dream ended as I stepped down off the foot of the stone to kneel next to my friend, still lying across the path.
It didn't feel like he was hurt, at least. It's still the sort of dream that makes me want to call people to check.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Goodness.
Date: 2005-01-14 23:10 (UTC)