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Fermius Firefly

A Dream Log, whenever I remember the dreams I've had.

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Location: San Marcos, United States

Fermius is a pen name drawn from a series of short fiction I wrote when I published the small press magazine Stellanova (on paper.) I play RPG games to escape from my daily grind as a technology wage slave for the state of California. I eat out a lot in order to do my part in supporting our increasingly service level economy. I am butler to 2 feline masters. If you ask them they will tell you I'm not very good at it, late with dinner, don't have enough hands with brushes in them, and sometimes I even lock them out of their office.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Alien Invasion x 2

     I dreamed that there was a huge alien vessel hovering over the parking lot of the high school where I used to go (and work.) It was summer, so there were openly a dozen vehicles or so. The ship had a large open hanger-like structure below and lots of textured panels and pipes above with several decks of observation windows around the middle of the vessel. There was an obvious bridge like structure jutting out from the side. Also on the underside, were twelve to sixteen turret like structures.

     As people got out of their cars to look up at the thing, the turrets began to sweep a bright blue beam out across the parking lot. When the blue beam struck a person, a much wider, lightning chased beam would snap onto them and they lifted into the air, suspended in the lightning, arms and legs dangling limply.

     People began to dive back into their cars. I was glad that school was out, as there weren't thousands of students hovering around the place. I was on a motorcycle so had no where to hide. I dropped the mirrored faceplate of my chrome helmet and pulled the rear view mirror off the bike. I reflected the blue beam as it swept towards me. It took only a moment to reflect it back up to the ship, and when it hit the emitter, the beam snapped out. Still, the white lightning filled beam engulfed me and I was lifted into the air towards the ship. Other turrets began to track towards me. As their beams struck I reflected the the blue portion away, hitting as many of the emitters as I could. After I'd disabled a good half a dozen, the aliens stopped trying to hit me with them and I was swung over towards the hanger. I could see that there were several unconscious or possible dead people on the hanger deck floor. There were little grey headed aliens rushing about, dragging them onto stretchers and then hauling them away.
     I landed with a thud, and used the momentum to roll over two approaching aliens. I heard crunching as they went down below my bulk. I apologized as I got to my feet and headed for an open hatchway, mirror clutched firmly in hand.

     I don't think they were prepared for a conscious arrival, as there didn't seem to be any guards whatsoever. I made my way towards the bridge, or at least what I hoped was the bridge, unsure what I was going to be able to do about any of this and expecting to be killed at any moment. Perhaps the tinfoil hat people were right, as my chrome plated helmet seemed to do a great job of keeping me from being brought down. The mirror was really useful, as when I reflected a beam from an alien hand weapon onto another alien, the target would go limp and then slump to the ground. I picked up one of the little ray guns, but couldn't make it work. I put the gun in one of the cargo pockets of my jump suit. It bumped against my leg much more forcefully than I thought something that size should.

     I finally reached the doors to the bridge, I could see the high school stadium out of the windows, we were hovering about the level of the press box and score boards. An alien stepped around from the side of a command chair and I reflected his weapon back onto him. He slumped to the floor, dropping his ray gun as he fell. I stooped over and claimed it, placing it in the cargo pocket of the other leg, since I figured I wouldn't be able to make that work, either.

     As I came into the bridge, I could see the captain, or at least the leader. At least, I assume he was the leader, as he had more decorations on his uniform and head. He also kept his weapon holstered at his side. We looked at one another for a few moments.

     Then he rather confidently started asking me questions. I answered him politely, even using "sir." I seemed to eventually convince him that we weren't exactly the monsters in this little scenario.

     After a while he seemed to be satisfied with what he's heard, and ordered everyone returned to the parking lot below. I sensed, somehow, that he was telling the truth. He explained that they were unharmed and would return to consciousness in a short time.

     Then we came to the point of discussing what to do with me. I suggested that there were plenty of people who would voluntarily come with them for any nondamaging program of investigation. (I knew there were some who would volunteer even if there was the possibility of harm.) He indicated that he felt I was amusing, and calm, and just who they needed. He asked if I would be their spokesperson, their ambassador. "Please," I thought, "just say it..."

     The alien laughed, it wasn't a human laugh, but I recognized it immediately. "Take me to your leader." I could feel the alien smiling as he ordered a course for Washington DC. As the ship turned, he then ordered the beams to pick up my motorcycle.

     In the second Alien Invader dream, the aliens weren't so polite, and didn't seem to be able to be reasoned with. They were just staking out mineral deposits and mines and destroying anyone who came near. they had achieved atmospheric superiority in just a few days, their flying wings crackled overhead almost constantly. every so often they would swoop down and destroy any large congregation of people and machines, otherwise, they left us alone, almost as if we just didn't matter. Aircraft on the ground they left alone, passenger airplanes they had left alone, until some Middle Eastern army got the idea of loading one with explosives and flying it into one of the alien's mining rigs. The attack had been successful, the rig was obliterated, the mining operation there abandoned. However, the aliens responded by shooting down everything in the air at the time.

      Air passenger service had not then been restored. 
      It was also not a good idea to drive your vehicle directly at an alien wing or contraption, as they would immediately open fire. Any time an alien was killed, the aliens would retaliate, killing a hundred or more humans in the immediatly closest area. There was no communication, only slaughter and the working of machinery. Once they had killed enough people, they would simply stop, and return to whatever they had been doing. So, if one heard alien weapon fire, it was best to flee or hide deep underground until the retaliation was over. Some people reported surviving by playing possum, but there was evidence in other events of people being shot while they lay on the ground, so running away or locking yourself into a bunker seemed to be the best choices.
      I had come across a crashed alien wing, and because it had been so sudden, I didn't have a chance to turn away before I heard the amplified alien voice. I saw the pilot was pinned. I moved up and used some of the wreckage to pry him loose. His blood was a deep blue green color. I used a plastic grocery bag and some napkins from my "to go" lunch to make a bandage. Then I helped the alien up and helped him to my car. The alien pointed down a road and I started driving. Every so often the alien spoke, and I could hear replies. He would indicate that I should slow, then pointed and I would turn. Eventually we came to a small alien outpost. He indicated that I should stop and I did so. He tried to get out of the car, but couldn't. I got out and opened the door, then helped him out, and then even helped him approach the alien outpost. Eventually I ended up carrying him.
      Aliens, armed appeared on the firing platform, but the big guns didn't track me. I carried the alien right up to the ground entry. Terrified. The alien indicated that I should put him down. I checked his bandages pulling the ends of the wounds back together and tightening everything up. I walked away but turned back. No one had opened the door, though the aliens had left their firing platform.
      I waited, still, no one had come out of the outpost to pick up the alien pilot. The alien was speaking. I had no idea what he was saying, of course. I looked at the outpost. The big guns were still not tracking me, so I went back to the alien, taking off my jacket. I made him lay back and elevated his leg (especially the wounded one.) The alien clutched my arm, just above the wrist, it was shivering. I grabbed its wrist as well, sitting down next to it. We waited, together. Eventually a flying wing arrived. Oddly, the outpost defenses powered up and the guns tracked the vehicle as it settled, Harrier like, just in front of my car. An alien got out, actually moving to check out my car. The alien muttered, tried to speak. It weakly pointed to the wing.
      I shouted out, lifting up the pilot, who tried to hold on to me. The alien turned around, saw me walking towards them and reached for his weapon. The alien I was carrying spoke again, and I could hear the muffled reply. The other alien lowered his weapon and beckoned me closer. Another alien appeared in the hatch of the ship momentarily, then vanished. The wing powered up and I could feel air and heat rushing past my legs. The alien walked over and took his pilot from me after inspecting my bandaging job.
       They both stayed, just for a moment. Looking at me. Then, both almost together, quite clearly said "thank you" heavily accented. I waited to make sure they were aboard their ship and then walked back to my vehicle, which was directly in front of the wing's weapons. The wing lifted off the ground and turned around as I got into my car. The wing tilted left, then right. Then straightened up and took off.
        I sat in my car, shaking. Wondering how badly I had just screwed up.
        A few moments later, the ground began to rumble. A shadow blocked out the sky, and an alien ship hovered over the outpost. A moment later the alien crew came out of the outpost and were suddenly lifted up into the hovering alien vessel, followed momentarily by the outpost itself. I watched the alien ship move out across the valley, picking up outpost after outpost.
        When I got home, covered with alien blood, the news was all filled with pictures of the alien pullout, but just of our little neighborhood. Essentially everything within several miles of where the pilot was recovered.
        "What happened to you?"
        "I found an injured alien and took him back to his people."
        "What! They could have killed you!"
        "But they didn't."  I pointed to the television. "It seems to have worked out okay, though."

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Monday, July 15, 2013

Mount Hope and Dryad Bookworm

Had a pair of delightful dreams this morning. In the first dream I was driving, just travelling to see new places, not worried about a time committment, and unconcerned about the critters, as they were well taken care of. (Apparently I had a house sitter.) I had managed to pick up a travelling companion, a little younger than myself, hair still brownish red with only a few silver threads, the wrinkles around her eyes were in smile lines, and it seemed that her irises were not perfectly circular, so I found that intriguing. We rode up into the mountains one rainy afternoon, and decided to stop in a place called Mount Hope.

There were small cabins dotted all over the little hidden valley just near the top of the pass, and many of them seemed to be for sale or rent. We stopped and asked if there was a place we could stay for the night, and someone immediately offered us a cabin for no charge, as it wasn't ski season yet. We had a wonderful meal, and I noticed that my companion had only eaten the meat and green veggies again, leaving everything else behind. We walked around town, talking to nearly everyone we met, they were charming and friendly, and on more than one occasion I got the impression that they recognized my companion.

It began to rain harder during the evening. There was lightning, fairly close, and loud thunder that rattled the four small windows as well as the doors of the cabinets. We ended up together in the small bed in the loft of the cabin, she was very warm and snuggly, but insisted on there being no hijinks until we had a serious talk about that, first. She firmly moved my hand up to her ribs from her hip. I was too tired, so we agreed to have that conversation on the road in the morning.

At one point I woke, a loud very realistic purr in my ear. My hand was cupped around one of my companion's breasts. I gently removed it lest there be a relationship ending misinterpretation. The purring stopped shortly after.

In the morning, we made our way down the slippery rain and mud slicked roads in time to still have breakfast. We sat at a large table with about eight or nine others. I was sure that some of them had animal ears instead of human ears, and it made me suddenly curious about my travelling companion. She was never without her thick headband, even when we'd been snuggled up together in the bed she had been wearing it. As we paid our bill and left, I swore the lady behind the counter had an alligator head in the reflection.

A passerby smiled at us in the rain, "The Veil of Ignorance has been pierced; you're welcome back if you find the road is impassible." 

I thanked him then watched him head into the breakfast cafe, barely pulling his tail through the door before it automatically closed. I started to say something, but held the thought for now.
The trip down the mountain was even more dangerous than I'd thought. We'd slipped and fishtailed, even at the extremely low speed I was driving at. There was no attention for the rather promising conversation I had been promised.

We came to the bridge across a large gorge, and could see the torrents of water below had knocked the bridge's trestles askew. I could see cracks in the road. A dragon dove down and lifted a Mini Cooper off the bridge just before the trestles gave way with a groaning crack that rivaled the thunder. The Mini Cooper was placed on the road next to us and I could see the relieved faces of the occupants, furry faces, pointy ears, wet muzzles. We waved to them as they drove off, shouting their thanks up to the dragon who was now winging his way over to the other side of the gorge with armloads of warning barricades and "Bridge Out" signs.

"What did you just see?" My companion asked.

"I was supposed to see a car just making it across the bridge before it collapsed and a rescue helicopter delivering warning barricades."

"But, really, what did you see?"

"Same thing you did, I suspect."" I looked at my companion more closely, she had cat eyes, and cat whiskers, I was amazed I had not seen them before. She removed her headband. She had no ears where they should be, but a pair of tiger like ears further up her head, they flicked to and fro, free of her headband.

"It's not too late. We can probably find someone who can fix the Veil."

I decided I didn't mind seeing her as she actually was, and the fact that she had a tail explained, partly, her unwillingness the previous night to let my hand off her waist.

"Let's go see if we can find a place to stay until the bridge is repaired."

"Just until then?"

"We'll see, I think I could grow to like this valley, but there's lots other places to see." I managed to turn the car around and head back up the mountain.

In my second dream, after getting up to feed the cats. I was swimming across a fairly wide shallow stream with a surprisingly strong current. I was swept a hundred yards or so downstream from where I had intended to cross, but wasn't worried. There looked like there was a path or a very large game trail just at the top of the bank. It would have been an easy walk back.

When I climbed out of the water, however, I decided that I didn't want to walk back. There was a scantily clad Dryad sitting at the base of her oak, reading.

She was rather startled when I greeted her. I could see that her book was well worn, and quite old. I opened my pack. I had a couple of books with me, not as well made as the old book she had. They were in a waterproof bag that would certainly be large enough to also house her book. I had finished the books some time earlier in my wanderings, and so thought this would be a great opportunity to lighten my load a little bit. The Dryad was surprised, but delighted at the gift, protesting that she had nothing for me. I explained that they wouldn't be a gift if she had, that would be a trade, instead.
I agreed to camp under her tree until we could each read one of the other's books, and then discuss them. I wasn't sure that was a good idea, but it seemed only polite to agree. Apparently she had seen no one in many years, and even then, she hadn't revealed herself as she didn't think she could trust them.

I found the bones of the original owner of the book. She had tried to save him, but he'd nearly drowned, and then suddenly collapsed a few days later. She didn't know why. Her book had been new, then, and I looked at the date, March 1849. It was a book on Geology. Much of the information in it was now outdated, and more was known about the subject now. When that became known to her, she decided she would come with me.

I didn't think she could leave her tree. But she indicated that any healthy oak would do to keep her ageless, as long as it was not someone else's home. That was unlikely, she sighed. Most of the other Dryads had gone off to become mortal and live out their lives. She thought that might not be a bad idea, especially if she could become a Geologist, as that sounded pretty exciting. I found myself wondering how to enroll her in a college. While it would be easy to pass myself off as her dad, she didn't exactly come with a school record, SSN or any other way to identify herself to modern society.

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Tuesday, July 09, 2013

Movie Making

I dreamed that I was working with a film company on an erotic romantic comedy. The comedy took place at a school, in fact, my old middle school. The projectors and white boards had been removed and we'd reinstalled the old green boards that I remembered from my own childhood. The production company had wanted all wooden desks, but I had pointed out that not only would that be over our budget, but it wouldn't actually match the chromed steal desks with laminated tops that we'd actually used as students. The desks with the unmanageable wire book management trays. The ones where large books got tangled, and small ones always seemed to spill out and end up under foot. The ones where the wires got bent into a hook that was just the right height to catch and untie shoelaces, or pop open three ring binders.

It was the middle of summer and the condemned school was empty except for the film crew, most of whom, because there was no air conditioning, and the extra lights were powerfully hot, had stripped down to shorts and t-shirts for the men, and shorts and halter tops for the women. We were filming a scene between the four protagonists where they were essentially playing truth or dare in the classroom after school.

The scene was getting pretty racy and soon there would be enough nudity to get us our "R" rating, but in the process, things were going a decidedly NC-17 direction, as everyone was horsing around and the crew had started to play along with the actors behind the scenes. I commented to the director that the "Making of" documentary was going to rated "X" at the rate we were going.

We decided to take a break, and the water truck was pulled up next to the abandoned buildings and set up to spray the little planter area, which we dubbed our "Water Park". Everyone ran out and got soaked so we could take a long lunch break. One of the nearly naked actresses made sure to stay close by me, asking all sorts of questions about what the school had been like when I had gone there. Somehow it had come out that I had actually dated a teacher a few years my senior shortly after I had graduated and come back to work at the place.

I pointed out that the teacher was still quite young, and had not been there when I was a student, but she insisted on portraying it as the scandal upon which our own movie was based to anyone who would listen. By the end of the break nearly every woman had invited me back to the hotel after the shoot, because "you won't have to drive all that way in the heat," and "we have a pool, air conditioning, and a bar tab."

The nearly naked actress smiled at me as we went back to work, "you can thank me later, sweetie."

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