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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.

Friday, October 03, 2014

Giving it the Old College Try

After much bouncing around and short bits of flying, I arrived at a college campus. I put away the gaffer's tape cube I had been using to fly, noticing that my hand had rubbed off one of the symbols on the cube. I chatted with a couple of young women as I headed to one of the larger lecture halls. The conversation was actually about their studies and it was a refreshing change from whatever I was used to.

When I arrived at the lecture hall, I knew the lecture was in one of the Balcony theaters, so pulled out my cube and levitated up to the lecture platform, dropping down over the rail just as my friend, the lecturer, was concluding his opening remarks about levitation and flying. I set my cube on the podium and we turned the document camera onto it.

I had to borrow a marker to re-label the sides. I then explained how the piece of alien technology that allowed the flight effect was also very sensitive and potentially dangerous, thus the thick layer of tape. Its effectiveness at reducing both the sensitivity and the micro slashing of the mechanism made the device usable and safe. The labels were really for user convenience, and didn't have any actual effect on the use of the device, other than to make sure you didn't accidentally shut it off in mid air.

There were larger devices found, and they were going to be the focus of the class. Their job, as graduate students in alien technology, was to figure out the principles that underlaid the devices' functions, in hopes that we would be able to replicate the devices.

All in all a successful lesson, and finally we emphasized the dangerous nature of the devices by setting the classroom's version on top of a ham and activating it. It chewed its way down through the ham until it was surrounded by the flesh. Apparently the devices were found in the remains of alien beasts, whose battered exteriors seemed to indicate that they'd been involved in some sort of aerial gladiatorial contests.

I then flew off to a party being hosted by a patron who had become a good friend. I was staying at a nearby hotel, but most of the artists and writers that had been invited to his mini-convention were staying at his home. (Which was the size of a college dorm, and in fact may have been one at one time.) I was pretty frothy by the time I arrived, as using the flying device required a great deal of physical activity, about the level of a good run. I went up to the second floor so I could use one of the showers to clean up before the late morning events.

I bumped into N, her hair was now red with blond and white highlights, very frizzy similar to when I first met her, but about mid back length, what little of it actually hung down, it mostly framed her face in a poofy cloud. It wasn't a particularly attractive look, but it was certainly dramatic. She was back to her insulting self in this dream, but it didn't really bother me. When she pointed out how sweaty and disgusting I was I just shrugged, "I just ran over from the college, so yep, I need a shower and a change of clothing."

Someone asked me why my condition was such a big deal as I headed to the showers. I explained that she was my ex, and they just grunted in understanding.

When I got cleaned up my patron was meeting with the attendees. Someone was talking about the wide variety of attendees to the event, and it was obvious they were vying for the patron's attention, and probably support. The F's were in the front row, and when a group of folks decided to illustrate a point made by another speaker by breaking into song, Phil turned around and asked them to pipe down as they couldn't hear the speaker. He seemed to recognize me so I waved.

I still had a towel over my head, trying to tame my hair into something reasonable looking before I had to speak. I didn't succeed, as the patron introduced me just as I was drying out the inside of my ears. "Sorry, I just ran over and needed a quick cleanup."

"You could have stayed here, you know."

"I'm at the college all week, though, so the hotel was closer."

"I have cars, you know."

We bantered back and forth a bit. N was decidedly unhappy looking when it was revealed that I was the Patron's new publisher and managing editor. Some of the others I knew were much happier about it. Since my publishing house was co-branded with my patrons, I had no intention of letting my personal feelings get in the way of publishing anything that my editors and test readers liked, so no one had any real reason to worry. (Except me if my final choices proved to be unpopular.) I explained what "Un-Conventional Proceedings" was going to be, and there was applause and excitement in the room about the concept.

After the announcement my patron started meeting with individual creators. When the F's sat down I told him he should give them whatever they wanted. Even if it didn't make us all money, it would be entertaining. "Good enough for me!" was his response.

Kinda wish that dream had continued, it was just about the most fun I've had while asleep in some time.

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