last night, i dreamt i was a muffler.

[bottecellie]

D R E A M S ~ M E M E

 

Dreams are difficult enough to understand. They range from embarrassing, to frightening, to thought-provoking, to just plain nonsensical. You may find yourself wondering what that was all about, or trying to forget about it as quickly as you can. It may be close enough to reality to confuse you, or dream logic may prevail. Whatever the case, the world of dreams is a way to delve into your psyche and deal with what happened to you that day, your fears, and whatever's on your mind.

 

Except... what's that person doing there?

 

Potential Trigger Warning!

 

How It Works:

~ Post with your character, name and fandom in the subject.

~ Others respond to your character.

~ Roll the RNG 1-6 for your situation, from the list below. That's the type of dream your character is having. Or, just pick the one you like the best.

~ The replier has found themselves in your character's dream, able to interact freely.

~ Have fun!

 

1. sweet dreams

Something like this might not happen too often in your waking life, if ever. You've found the world's largest supply of grape ice cream, you've won the lottery... or, perhaps, you're just having a really good day. Will this person share in your joy or ruin it for you?

 

2. nightmares

Your worst fears are being visited upon you tonight. Whether it's falling, losing those closest to you, insects, or something particular to you, there's no doubt you'd wake up in a cold sweat if everything went normally. Having this person there isn't 'normal', though. Maybe they can make things better.

 

3. sexy dreams

Isn't it so awkward when the person you're in bed with suddenly asks why you're dreaming about them in a schoolgirl costume?

 

4. bizarre dreams

It's hard to categorize this, but it probably seems perfectly natural to you that you need to find the smallest grain of sand in the world to stop an alien invasion up until someone points out how weird that is. And maybe it still seems normal to you even after that. They might be the ones being silly!

 

5. memories

The mind often revisits important events in one's life. For good or bad, you're back in time, reliving something that stuck in your head. But... that guy wasn't here before, was he? Or maybe he was, but hasn't seen it from your point of view yet.

 

6. combination/other

Dreams are many and varied. Mix up the flavors, or try something completely different. Wherever your mind will take you is game.

Comments

[womanwhobeatyou]

[She remembers this too, and as Moriarty's man chokes on his last breath, the dreamscape begins to dim, the memory fades, and another takes its place.

The warm crackle of fire, the ornate wallpaper covering the walls of the flat on Baker Street. Another time he'd taken her pulse.

This time, however, she knows what he's doing, and she turns her wrist ever so slightly in his grasp, so his fingertips rest against bone rather than blood vessels.]

You are going to have to do better than that, Mr. Holmes.

[abductivereasoning]

[ There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes, very brief, before it's quickly covered with something more neutral and less... revealing. This may be a dream somehow, but it would not behoove him to offer her more than he already has -- and it appears she feels quite the same. Her slender wrist falls from his grasp as he turns to set both violin and bow atop the nearest side table, feeling that strange sense of disconnect one has in familiar places constructed by the subconscious: it looks like home, but it just doesn't feel right.

John isn't here. Neither is Mrs. Hudson. It simply isn't Baker Street without them.

With an overly dramatic spin Sherlock tosses himself down into the worn leather of his chair, fingers steepling together and a guarded smile pulling at his lips. His gaze falls to John's chair across from his own, inviting her to sit. ]

So tell me, Miss Adler: What new life have you made for yourself, now that you're well and truly deceased in the eyes of the world? I doubt you've managed to really avoid getting yourself into trouble.

[womanwhobeatyou]

[She doesn't take the invitation, instead lingering by the mantlepiece, running her fingers along the edge. Remembering the time she'd left her cameraphone right there, on the left side.]

If you really wanted me to behave, you'd have had your brother lock me up. [She glances over her shoulder at him with a wicked smile, and the hard vowels of a Midwestern American accent filters into her voice.] Would you believe I've gotten myself into an American witness protection program?

[abductivereasoning]

[ That gives him pause, his eyebrows taking a brief trip up towards his hairline. ]

...I guess Mycroft's little lie came from some good ideas, after all.

[ Though thinking that she's found a place to thrive is a comfort, if one that's bittersweet. Briefly he considers the idea of taking a case in America, flying over for a little while, just taking a day aside from his work... but no. The world must think Irene Adler is dead, and where he goes, some aid or another of Mycroft's will follow and see with their own eyes that she is not. It's not worth the risk.

Even if he'd really like to see her... just one more time.

The thought is pushed down hard and away, his gaze switching to the mantelpiece instead. He remembers the night he found it. He remembers how he felt the six months after. Nothing about it was a very delightful experience for him. ]

I'm sure your sort of work is right up their alley.

[womanwhobeatyou]

[She laughs a little at that, running her fingers along the mantelpiece before sinking into John's chair, tucking her feet beneath her as she does so. Her gaze never leaves him, as if she's reading his thoughts on his face.]

Good ideas, but not really my cup of tea. [Her smile is almost teasing.] They're a bit straight laced for my tastes. [Still not answering his question.]

[abductivereasoning]

[ A pause before he realizes his mistake: he bought into it way too easily. A brief look of annoyance passes over his features, though more at himself than anything else. He should know better than to trust her, even after everything that's happened -- or especially after. He smooths himself over with something cooler and closed off, reassuring himself with the fact that it really is best he doesn't know where she is or what she's doing with herself.

It's better that way.

Uncomfortable with his idle hands, he plucks up his violin again to hold it upright on his lap, fingers sliding across the strings. He finds its body easier to look at than the one sitting across from him. ]

Here I thought Americans were rife with the depraved and uncouth. Plenty you could relate with there, I'd expect.

[ He saved your life, Irene -- but that doesn't mean he doesn't remember being burned. There's no hiding the hint of petulance to his tone. ]

[womanwhobeatyou]

[No doubt that had been meant to hurt, but Irene doesn't even bat an eye. There had been only once he'd managed to really hurt her, only once he'd managed to humiliate her, and it took something far more intimate than sniping about her professional choices.

So that same amused smile stays exactly where it is, and Irene shrugs.] And nowhere near as refined in their tastes for misbehavior. It'd get boring.

[She tilts her head, still watching him as he studiously avoids watching her.] You can relate, I expect.

[abductivereasoning]

Hardly.

[ Having his boredom related to hers is... bothersome, somehow. He revels in their similarities, dazzled by how easily this woman, this mad and amazing woman, can come toe-to-toe with him and even best him when the situation plays out right -- but at the same time, it makes him skittish and uncomfortable, anxious like a rabbit sensing the snare before it's sprung.

Even after the blow he dealt her, Irene Adler still has a hold over him. The realization is stomach-clenching at best, and beginning to show the longer they're forced to interact. ]

As I've made perfectly clear, your form of entertainment is really not my area, Miss Adler.

[ So what if he's not looking at her? So what if it's obvious? The agitation is evident in the sharpening pulls he makes against the strings, abusing his violin to ease his own displeasure. ]

[womanwhobeatyou]

[The dissonant notes give him away, but then so does the way he firmly refuses to look at her, even in a dream. She smiles, because she knows it will irritate him for her to appear unflappable.]

No, but you did know where to look. And that counts for something.