Dreamtime Part 2
Continuing from my post earlier today...
I left off with Dameon suddenly demanding to have ME in payment for freeing my parents, and before they could stop him, he whisked me away into a world of grey. It was like an empty wasteland of nothingness... maybe it was wherever demons like him go when they're not on Earth.
Now alone with me, the older Dameon (in his late 30s, mid-40s) still clasped my forearms tightly, smirking down at his prize. There was a faint glimmer of fangs protruding from his lips... a vampire?!
I couldn't pull away--I was still frozen with fear, my eyes locked onto his like you often see young women when they're caught in a vampire's hypnotic gaze. Possessively, he trailed a finger across my cheek, watching me like a sultan might gaze at his slave girl.
"No... please..."
At that point, I had not yet given up the fight, but my strength of will was gradually wearing down.
"No? You don't want to come with me? Ah, but you shall change your tune in time."
After several moments more of his supernatural gaze, he suddenly took me by one arm and pulled me away, walking quickly in one direction.
"In fact, you will witness as I gather an entire flock of minions--this very night! Come."
As easily as that, he dragged me off (with little resistance, entranced with him as I was becoming) until we appeared back in the French hotel, in a dimly lit hallway. He had only to glance at one of the lights, and the entire row quickly flickered out, leaving us in darkness. He still had a firm grasp of my forearm. Signing, with a finger on his lips, for me not to utter a sound, he crouched slightly, and waited.
They approached from around the distant corner of the hall--my college classmates. Almost the entire group of them was together there--they must have gone out drinking. There were at least 12 or 15 people. They began to approach their doors, apparently not noticing us. Were we invisible to them?
As two of them opened the door wide, chattering about the electricity going out, Dameon slipped into the room they were about to enter, pausing a moment to grin at me before he disappeared inside ahead of them. I simply stood there waiting, silent, as I'd been instructed--albeit shaking like a leaf.
The door closed behind them as most of them squeezed into that room--perhaps it was a presidential suite?--and after some laughter and talking, the noise died down. Several minutes passed in an eerie silence, and I had nearly gathered the willpower to bolt the scene before the door suddenly swung open, with no one standing there to push it--as though it had a mind of its own.
I froze again as Dameon exited the room, arms at his sides, and stood against the opposite wall, staring at the room and waiting. Filed in a line came the entire college class, with dumb or lifeless faces and sucked dry of any energy they had had when they first entered the room. Almost as though called by the Pied Piper, they turned wordlessly and followed Dameon as he led the troupe down the opposite hall from whence they came. As he passed me, the demon grasped my forearm again, tightening his grip, and pulled me along with him, keeping me close, so I was forced to watch this mindless procession.
Some time passed as the walking continued into the grey mist while the old world faded... almost as though we had been walking for hours in this clouded nothingness. At one point, Dameon snapped his fingers, and it was as though the stifle on everyone's lips was removed. The class began to speak again, slowly at first, now that their will was returned (at least in part). But a large part of their conversation was now of the demon, and their loyalty to him. How had he reshaped their minds in so short a time? Where they all that shallow??
Few words were spoken at all between Dameon and me, although he paid more mind to me than he did to his now-willing followers. It seemed the more time they spent with him, the more they liked him and worshipped him. I did not feel a part of that. I was outraged inside for what he had done, but a part of me had also resigned from struggling--somewhere inside, there was a frightening part of me that didn't care at all what happened to these fools. And perhaps that tortured me most, at the time. Dameon appeared more amused at my reaction than anything, as though he read my thoughts like a headline.
What seemed an eternity later, we stepped out of the grey mist, and seemed to arrive beside the silver gleam of a city train. (Not the original kind of train--but not a bullet train either. I mean the kind of train you see in New York or Dallas. I didn't have a word for it). He boarded the train, releasing my arm as he did so, and beckoned me to follow him. I was free, and seemed to quietly refuse, watching as the entire college class boarded without hesitation at his urging. Eventually I was the only one left. He stared at me from the boarding step like a master might glare at his disobedient dog. I was hesitant to move, and this time he did not make me. After some long torturous moments, without even a word's prompting from Dameon, I entered the train of my own will. If enchantment it was, then I appeared to accept my role in it.
(Speaking of accepting roles, at about this point, the dream shifted from a more real-like feel to a LARP-fashion. I realized at that point that everyone was playing their character in a big live-action RP, and the guy playing Dameon was none other than--dun dun--Willem Dafoe!! Now everything was making sense.. the fact that he appeared older, but still had things running exactly as he planned, people wrapped around his finger, charisma of a god, etc. So now, my feelings shifted from actual fear and feelings of my character to "am I playing my character right?" I was also an SPC, it seems, or at least an advanced player, so I tried at every opportunity to let SOMEONE ELSE take the initiative and lead the decision making so the players would feel like they were accomplishing something and not just "following the lead staff" so to speak.)
The train began to move, and Willem Dafoe's character snapped his fingers. By then, the class had turned flagrantly worshipful of him, like he was an idol or a god (I'm thinking Lestat from Queen of the Damned again, except think older, as in, well, Willem Dafoe). Everything was for his amusement now. At the snap of his fingers, they all turned silent and gazed upon him. I just sat there, watching like a dead-faced doll. I was imagining that frightening episode from Vampire Princess Miyu (episode 2), where the shallow, helpless women were kidnapped from the train and made into mannequins, and the demon tried to make Miyu his Lolita doll. That's how I envisioned myself... a pale, emotionless puppet. But there was more to my character's thoughts and feelings than that.
Dameon took a seat at the head of the aisle, turning it into a kind of throne, and the driver-less train began to pull faster across its tracks. "I propose a test. If you can stop this train from wrecking, you will have earned my favor. Who among you loves me most?" He looked upon his throng of 15-strong, with a please-me smile as he instantly vanished.
What seemed a response to his disappearance, the train picked up speed and began rattling viciously. Suddenly we could make out our surroundings--we were on the highway now, on the train tracks that passed beneath it--except these tracks caused us to rise, rise above even the highway and move faster than ever before. The coach shook violently as the train turned and weaved its way across a track that resembled the one in the Beetlejuice cartoon's opening theme.
Some people yelped, but most began to rise and hurriedly feel around for something that could stop or slow the train--mostly because Dameon had challenged him, and they felt a more than natural urge to please him. I still sat there quietly and watched them all as they scrambled, some even using teamwork to try and fix the driver's controls, or search for a break unit. After several minutes of this, I sensed the train would soon be crashing... the rattling was getting harsher, it was getting more difficult to hold on or keep from sliding out of my chair, and according to the girl in the driver's seat, the end of the track was eminent. People were actually getting frightened now, realizing the seriousness of the issue. This was a game, yes, but a very deadly one.
Finally, out of a strange sense of irritation (ICly, that no one was clever enough to find the break lever. OOCly, that no other player characters were taking initiative or figuring out the puzzle), I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled shakily over to one side, fumbled around under the side seats for some kind of mechanism, and within a few seconds, I found the emergency break lever. Of course, I began yanking on it with all of my strength, and yelled to the others to find one on the opposite side. A few guys found it and pulled, and the train gradually groaned to a stop, probably inches from the drop off.
That done, I went back to my seat without speaking to any of them. I felt I had nothing to say... I was still in a sort of daze from the whole experience, and like something inside my character had died, or maybe just changed... changed very much.
"Well done," Dameon's voice said through the smoke that our sudden stop had caused to drift around the cabin. Everyone looked around for him, but the demon was no where to be found. His voice carried from all directions. A few seconds later, Dafoe/Dameon appeared in the driver's seat where several of his new minions had been moments before. Sidling over, he slipped from the chair to a stand behind his designated chair, which had suddenly appeared upright again as though it had never moved. He leaned half his weight on the back of the chair, looking everyone over.
"And now I want to know something. How much do you love me?" The group looked rather startled by his directness. "What would you do for me? To earn my favor? I want to hear it... to see it."
The group began talking amongst each other in hushed tones, though several threw themselves at his feet in slave-like fashion, crying that they'd give their very lives for him, even their very souls, and so on. It appeared to me, as this show of strange and self-deprecating competition continued, that he was not surprised by most or any of their responses or behavior. Though he held an amused smile, his eyes divulged a faint sense of boredom. Though they tried to please him, with as much as their hearts and minds could afford, and though their worshipful show was entertaining as could be, it did not seem to hold his attraction for long. It did not challenge him in the least. They were far below him... minute and insignificant worms. He seemed to brush them aside.
He did not look at me. Perhaps he'd expected me to remain docile, or to blend in, to hide whatever I was feeling behind a show of grovelling. Amidst this stupid competitive display of self-diminution, I suddenly stood and made my way over to where the great demon sat.
(No other PCs seemed to catch on to what he was looking for, so I took initiative again. Perhaps that was my role as an SPC, I realized. I had to be the leader, and they could follow suit).
His eyes shifted to fall upon me as I approached him without hesitation. I did not stop until I stood only inches from him. His arms rested in front of him, hands folded as he waited to see what I would do.
Instead of grovelling, I abruptly leaned forward, putting my face only inches from his, slapping my hands over the arms of his chair and, of course, inadvertently grappling his wrists in the process--not caring that I was leaning my weight on both his wrists AND the chair as I glared into his countenance.
"I would do nothing for you," I spat coldly, though dead of emotion--even devoid of anger.
It caught him by surprised, and his wizened eyes widened at my apathetic insolence--though he was interested once more, I noted, as he smirked right back at me, obviously amused.
Without waiting for further response, I pulled away and began returning to my chair. But he stood and quickly took my wrist, stopping me, and forced me to turn around and face him again. My eyes reflected little, and I was not intimidated by his gaze. Instead, doll-like, I stared up at him unblinking, with the gall of an innocent who does not know the danger before her.
Willem Dafoe/Dameon pulled his face close to mine (carefully waiting until none of the other players were watching), cupped my face with one firm hand, and swiftly, but gently blew into my left ear, till I could feel his hot breath filling my ear drums with exhaled pressure.
Why he did this, rather than kiss me, could only be character-driven (although I couldn't help but think Dafoe had taken a fancy to me OOCly, and was taking advantage of his character's obsession with me). He did the same to my right ear, still cupping my face firmly until he had finished. Whatever it meant ICly, I couldn't confirm, although I imagined it was some kind of demonic gift he had imparted to me on a whim... eternal life, perhaps?
And that, I'm afraid, is where the dream ended, and I eventually awoke. Not a bad place to end a dream in which I got to LARP with Willem Dafoe, I must say... ^_^
Phew! That's one hell of a vision.
Well, back to the grind for me. Just had to get that out.
~Infin
I left off with Dameon suddenly demanding to have ME in payment for freeing my parents, and before they could stop him, he whisked me away into a world of grey. It was like an empty wasteland of nothingness... maybe it was wherever demons like him go when they're not on Earth.
Now alone with me, the older Dameon (in his late 30s, mid-40s) still clasped my forearms tightly, smirking down at his prize. There was a faint glimmer of fangs protruding from his lips... a vampire?!
I couldn't pull away--I was still frozen with fear, my eyes locked onto his like you often see young women when they're caught in a vampire's hypnotic gaze. Possessively, he trailed a finger across my cheek, watching me like a sultan might gaze at his slave girl.
"No... please..."
At that point, I had not yet given up the fight, but my strength of will was gradually wearing down.
"No? You don't want to come with me? Ah, but you shall change your tune in time."
After several moments more of his supernatural gaze, he suddenly took me by one arm and pulled me away, walking quickly in one direction.
"In fact, you will witness as I gather an entire flock of minions--this very night! Come."
As easily as that, he dragged me off (with little resistance, entranced with him as I was becoming) until we appeared back in the French hotel, in a dimly lit hallway. He had only to glance at one of the lights, and the entire row quickly flickered out, leaving us in darkness. He still had a firm grasp of my forearm. Signing, with a finger on his lips, for me not to utter a sound, he crouched slightly, and waited.
They approached from around the distant corner of the hall--my college classmates. Almost the entire group of them was together there--they must have gone out drinking. There were at least 12 or 15 people. They began to approach their doors, apparently not noticing us. Were we invisible to them?
As two of them opened the door wide, chattering about the electricity going out, Dameon slipped into the room they were about to enter, pausing a moment to grin at me before he disappeared inside ahead of them. I simply stood there waiting, silent, as I'd been instructed--albeit shaking like a leaf.
The door closed behind them as most of them squeezed into that room--perhaps it was a presidential suite?--and after some laughter and talking, the noise died down. Several minutes passed in an eerie silence, and I had nearly gathered the willpower to bolt the scene before the door suddenly swung open, with no one standing there to push it--as though it had a mind of its own.
I froze again as Dameon exited the room, arms at his sides, and stood against the opposite wall, staring at the room and waiting. Filed in a line came the entire college class, with dumb or lifeless faces and sucked dry of any energy they had had when they first entered the room. Almost as though called by the Pied Piper, they turned wordlessly and followed Dameon as he led the troupe down the opposite hall from whence they came. As he passed me, the demon grasped my forearm again, tightening his grip, and pulled me along with him, keeping me close, so I was forced to watch this mindless procession.
Some time passed as the walking continued into the grey mist while the old world faded... almost as though we had been walking for hours in this clouded nothingness. At one point, Dameon snapped his fingers, and it was as though the stifle on everyone's lips was removed. The class began to speak again, slowly at first, now that their will was returned (at least in part). But a large part of their conversation was now of the demon, and their loyalty to him. How had he reshaped their minds in so short a time? Where they all that shallow??
Few words were spoken at all between Dameon and me, although he paid more mind to me than he did to his now-willing followers. It seemed the more time they spent with him, the more they liked him and worshipped him. I did not feel a part of that. I was outraged inside for what he had done, but a part of me had also resigned from struggling--somewhere inside, there was a frightening part of me that didn't care at all what happened to these fools. And perhaps that tortured me most, at the time. Dameon appeared more amused at my reaction than anything, as though he read my thoughts like a headline.
What seemed an eternity later, we stepped out of the grey mist, and seemed to arrive beside the silver gleam of a city train. (Not the original kind of train--but not a bullet train either. I mean the kind of train you see in New York or Dallas. I didn't have a word for it). He boarded the train, releasing my arm as he did so, and beckoned me to follow him. I was free, and seemed to quietly refuse, watching as the entire college class boarded without hesitation at his urging. Eventually I was the only one left. He stared at me from the boarding step like a master might glare at his disobedient dog. I was hesitant to move, and this time he did not make me. After some long torturous moments, without even a word's prompting from Dameon, I entered the train of my own will. If enchantment it was, then I appeared to accept my role in it.
(Speaking of accepting roles, at about this point, the dream shifted from a more real-like feel to a LARP-fashion. I realized at that point that everyone was playing their character in a big live-action RP, and the guy playing Dameon was none other than--dun dun--Willem Dafoe!! Now everything was making sense.. the fact that he appeared older, but still had things running exactly as he planned, people wrapped around his finger, charisma of a god, etc. So now, my feelings shifted from actual fear and feelings of my character to "am I playing my character right?" I was also an SPC, it seems, or at least an advanced player, so I tried at every opportunity to let SOMEONE ELSE take the initiative and lead the decision making so the players would feel like they were accomplishing something and not just "following the lead staff" so to speak.)
The train began to move, and Willem Dafoe's character snapped his fingers. By then, the class had turned flagrantly worshipful of him, like he was an idol or a god (I'm thinking Lestat from Queen of the Damned again, except think older, as in, well, Willem Dafoe). Everything was for his amusement now. At the snap of his fingers, they all turned silent and gazed upon him. I just sat there, watching like a dead-faced doll. I was imagining that frightening episode from Vampire Princess Miyu (episode 2), where the shallow, helpless women were kidnapped from the train and made into mannequins, and the demon tried to make Miyu his Lolita doll. That's how I envisioned myself... a pale, emotionless puppet. But there was more to my character's thoughts and feelings than that.
Dameon took a seat at the head of the aisle, turning it into a kind of throne, and the driver-less train began to pull faster across its tracks. "I propose a test. If you can stop this train from wrecking, you will have earned my favor. Who among you loves me most?" He looked upon his throng of 15-strong, with a please-me smile as he instantly vanished.
What seemed a response to his disappearance, the train picked up speed and began rattling viciously. Suddenly we could make out our surroundings--we were on the highway now, on the train tracks that passed beneath it--except these tracks caused us to rise, rise above even the highway and move faster than ever before. The coach shook violently as the train turned and weaved its way across a track that resembled the one in the Beetlejuice cartoon's opening theme.
Some people yelped, but most began to rise and hurriedly feel around for something that could stop or slow the train--mostly because Dameon had challenged him, and they felt a more than natural urge to please him. I still sat there quietly and watched them all as they scrambled, some even using teamwork to try and fix the driver's controls, or search for a break unit. After several minutes of this, I sensed the train would soon be crashing... the rattling was getting harsher, it was getting more difficult to hold on or keep from sliding out of my chair, and according to the girl in the driver's seat, the end of the track was eminent. People were actually getting frightened now, realizing the seriousness of the issue. This was a game, yes, but a very deadly one.
Finally, out of a strange sense of irritation (ICly, that no one was clever enough to find the break lever. OOCly, that no other player characters were taking initiative or figuring out the puzzle), I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled shakily over to one side, fumbled around under the side seats for some kind of mechanism, and within a few seconds, I found the emergency break lever. Of course, I began yanking on it with all of my strength, and yelled to the others to find one on the opposite side. A few guys found it and pulled, and the train gradually groaned to a stop, probably inches from the drop off.
That done, I went back to my seat without speaking to any of them. I felt I had nothing to say... I was still in a sort of daze from the whole experience, and like something inside my character had died, or maybe just changed... changed very much.
"Well done," Dameon's voice said through the smoke that our sudden stop had caused to drift around the cabin. Everyone looked around for him, but the demon was no where to be found. His voice carried from all directions. A few seconds later, Dafoe/Dameon appeared in the driver's seat where several of his new minions had been moments before. Sidling over, he slipped from the chair to a stand behind his designated chair, which had suddenly appeared upright again as though it had never moved. He leaned half his weight on the back of the chair, looking everyone over.
"And now I want to know something. How much do you love me?" The group looked rather startled by his directness. "What would you do for me? To earn my favor? I want to hear it... to see it."
The group began talking amongst each other in hushed tones, though several threw themselves at his feet in slave-like fashion, crying that they'd give their very lives for him, even their very souls, and so on. It appeared to me, as this show of strange and self-deprecating competition continued, that he was not surprised by most or any of their responses or behavior. Though he held an amused smile, his eyes divulged a faint sense of boredom. Though they tried to please him, with as much as their hearts and minds could afford, and though their worshipful show was entertaining as could be, it did not seem to hold his attraction for long. It did not challenge him in the least. They were far below him... minute and insignificant worms. He seemed to brush them aside.
He did not look at me. Perhaps he'd expected me to remain docile, or to blend in, to hide whatever I was feeling behind a show of grovelling. Amidst this stupid competitive display of self-diminution, I suddenly stood and made my way over to where the great demon sat.
(No other PCs seemed to catch on to what he was looking for, so I took initiative again. Perhaps that was my role as an SPC, I realized. I had to be the leader, and they could follow suit).
His eyes shifted to fall upon me as I approached him without hesitation. I did not stop until I stood only inches from him. His arms rested in front of him, hands folded as he waited to see what I would do.
Instead of grovelling, I abruptly leaned forward, putting my face only inches from his, slapping my hands over the arms of his chair and, of course, inadvertently grappling his wrists in the process--not caring that I was leaning my weight on both his wrists AND the chair as I glared into his countenance.
"I would do nothing for you," I spat coldly, though dead of emotion--even devoid of anger.
It caught him by surprised, and his wizened eyes widened at my apathetic insolence--though he was interested once more, I noted, as he smirked right back at me, obviously amused.
Without waiting for further response, I pulled away and began returning to my chair. But he stood and quickly took my wrist, stopping me, and forced me to turn around and face him again. My eyes reflected little, and I was not intimidated by his gaze. Instead, doll-like, I stared up at him unblinking, with the gall of an innocent who does not know the danger before her.
Willem Dafoe/Dameon pulled his face close to mine (carefully waiting until none of the other players were watching), cupped my face with one firm hand, and swiftly, but gently blew into my left ear, till I could feel his hot breath filling my ear drums with exhaled pressure.
Why he did this, rather than kiss me, could only be character-driven (although I couldn't help but think Dafoe had taken a fancy to me OOCly, and was taking advantage of his character's obsession with me). He did the same to my right ear, still cupping my face firmly until he had finished. Whatever it meant ICly, I couldn't confirm, although I imagined it was some kind of demonic gift he had imparted to me on a whim... eternal life, perhaps?
And that, I'm afraid, is where the dream ended, and I eventually awoke. Not a bad place to end a dream in which I got to LARP with Willem Dafoe, I must say... ^_^
Phew! That's one hell of a vision.
Well, back to the grind for me. Just had to get that out.
~Infin