(no subject)
Title Dream Lover
Rating G
Fandom Original
Word Count 1003
Morpheus, more commonly known as M or Morph to its users. It’s been proven Morpheus is not physiologically addictive. Psychologically is a different matter, though it is considered too early to discover any long term effects. As far as those in support of legalising the drug are concerned it is perfectly safe. A recreational drug on a par with alcohol or nicotine, only much less dangerous and much more fun. Morpheus is a much more social drug. It connects people, people on the other side of the country, the other side of the world. It connects the dreams of everyone that chooses to take M. It’s a whole other world that seeps into this one via the internet, via message boards and websites dedicated to meeting and finding the person you dreamt about last night. They might not be real. But they might be.
Anabelle was not watching the clock in the right hand corner of her computer screen waiting until she could go home. It was Friday, which meant, as per her not always so strict rules she could treat herself to a dose of Morpheus. She tried to restrict it to the weekends and one day in the week because there was little worse than waking up in the middle of a Dream, in having to go online to explain her sudden disappearance to him. She didn’t know a lot about him in real life, but that was fine, he didn’t know a lot about her either, largely because there wasn’t a lot to know. Her life was incredibly boring, but then she was sure that went for a lot of Morphers. Why else would they be so keen to Dream their lives away? People that had interesting real lives probably didn’t rely on drugs to have a good time, actually they probably did, just in the real world, because they were happy with who they were there. Anabelle wasn’t happy with who she was or at least not who she‘d become. Somewhere along the lines her dreams and desires had died and now she worked 9 to 5 (or 7 if it was especially busy) in an office where she could show minimal personality until slowly it had faded away. Her colourful clothes had been replaced by a wardrobe of black and white sensible, ‘smart, casual’ outfits. Her once purple hair was now its natural brown, because what was the point in having her hair bleached and dyed on a regular basis when she was too tired to go out?
None of that mattered in her Dreams of course. In her Dreams she was still 23, her hair was cropped short and tended to change between various colours of the rainbow. She was the woman she should have been, confident, interesting and vibrant. And of course she had the man, quite literally, of her Dreams.
The first time she’d met him she’d been convinced he was just a figment of her imagination. An extra supplied by her mind to keep her occupied in case she didn’t meet another Morpher. It was difficult to tell the difference sometimes and most of the time she never met anyone interesting enough to check up on the next day. He was beautiful. Tall and skinny, clad in the tightest jeans she’d ever seen. His hair made him look as if he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards and as his face had finally come into focus his eyes were rimmed with eyeliner. He’d sat down beside her (apparently, suddenly they were in a pub) and it had felt as if she already knew him, as if they already had some kind of history, just as in normal dreams. They’d talked and touched, drank and laughed and just as she’d been about to kiss him she’d woken up but kept her eyes closed in the hope she might fall back to sleep again to rejoin him, to pick up where they’d left off. Of course that hadn’t worked and eventually she’d got up assuming she’d bought a dodgy batch of M, until she’d signed on to the ’official’ unofficial Morpheus message board to find a post that seemed to be looking for her. She couldn’t quite believe her luck. He was real and better than that he wanted to see her again. That had been three months ago and their Dream selves had spent at least three nights a week together, the nights sometimes running into each other so they’d spend whole weekends Dreaming together.
He had quickly become the most important thing in her life. The man she only knew as Lex, who she spoke to only to arrange meetings in the Dreamworld. She was too awkward in real life and it was probably a better idea to keep things separate. There were always warnings on the message boards about remembering the people you met in your Dreams were often completely different in real life. How you should never agree to meet anyone in the real world. That was fine with her, she didn’t want to break the illusion. Didn’t want him to see the person she was in reality and he seemed fine with keeping their interactions to a minimum outside their shared Dreams. He seemed to feel the same. Neither of them wanted to talk about reality, it was the Dreams that mattered and in the Dreams there were no worries. The whole point in taking M was to avoid your life, so why would you talk about it with other users? Even if they understood it was just better to completely ignore it, to immerse yourself in the Dreamworld. Which was just what they’d done. The Dreamworld was her life now, complete with a boyfriend who was taking her away for the weekend. Her job was just a way to get the money to buy Morpheus. She was counting down the minutes until she could leave. Until she could get home and go to bed to have the life she wanted.
Rating G
Fandom Original
Word Count 1003
Morpheus, more commonly known as M or Morph to its users. It’s been proven Morpheus is not physiologically addictive. Psychologically is a different matter, though it is considered too early to discover any long term effects. As far as those in support of legalising the drug are concerned it is perfectly safe. A recreational drug on a par with alcohol or nicotine, only much less dangerous and much more fun. Morpheus is a much more social drug. It connects people, people on the other side of the country, the other side of the world. It connects the dreams of everyone that chooses to take M. It’s a whole other world that seeps into this one via the internet, via message boards and websites dedicated to meeting and finding the person you dreamt about last night. They might not be real. But they might be.
Anabelle was not watching the clock in the right hand corner of her computer screen waiting until she could go home. It was Friday, which meant, as per her not always so strict rules she could treat herself to a dose of Morpheus. She tried to restrict it to the weekends and one day in the week because there was little worse than waking up in the middle of a Dream, in having to go online to explain her sudden disappearance to him. She didn’t know a lot about him in real life, but that was fine, he didn’t know a lot about her either, largely because there wasn’t a lot to know. Her life was incredibly boring, but then she was sure that went for a lot of Morphers. Why else would they be so keen to Dream their lives away? People that had interesting real lives probably didn’t rely on drugs to have a good time, actually they probably did, just in the real world, because they were happy with who they were there. Anabelle wasn’t happy with who she was or at least not who she‘d become. Somewhere along the lines her dreams and desires had died and now she worked 9 to 5 (or 7 if it was especially busy) in an office where she could show minimal personality until slowly it had faded away. Her colourful clothes had been replaced by a wardrobe of black and white sensible, ‘smart, casual’ outfits. Her once purple hair was now its natural brown, because what was the point in having her hair bleached and dyed on a regular basis when she was too tired to go out?
None of that mattered in her Dreams of course. In her Dreams she was still 23, her hair was cropped short and tended to change between various colours of the rainbow. She was the woman she should have been, confident, interesting and vibrant. And of course she had the man, quite literally, of her Dreams.
The first time she’d met him she’d been convinced he was just a figment of her imagination. An extra supplied by her mind to keep her occupied in case she didn’t meet another Morpher. It was difficult to tell the difference sometimes and most of the time she never met anyone interesting enough to check up on the next day. He was beautiful. Tall and skinny, clad in the tightest jeans she’d ever seen. His hair made him look as if he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards and as his face had finally come into focus his eyes were rimmed with eyeliner. He’d sat down beside her (apparently, suddenly they were in a pub) and it had felt as if she already knew him, as if they already had some kind of history, just as in normal dreams. They’d talked and touched, drank and laughed and just as she’d been about to kiss him she’d woken up but kept her eyes closed in the hope she might fall back to sleep again to rejoin him, to pick up where they’d left off. Of course that hadn’t worked and eventually she’d got up assuming she’d bought a dodgy batch of M, until she’d signed on to the ’official’ unofficial Morpheus message board to find a post that seemed to be looking for her. She couldn’t quite believe her luck. He was real and better than that he wanted to see her again. That had been three months ago and their Dream selves had spent at least three nights a week together, the nights sometimes running into each other so they’d spend whole weekends Dreaming together.
He had quickly become the most important thing in her life. The man she only knew as Lex, who she spoke to only to arrange meetings in the Dreamworld. She was too awkward in real life and it was probably a better idea to keep things separate. There were always warnings on the message boards about remembering the people you met in your Dreams were often completely different in real life. How you should never agree to meet anyone in the real world. That was fine with her, she didn’t want to break the illusion. Didn’t want him to see the person she was in reality and he seemed fine with keeping their interactions to a minimum outside their shared Dreams. He seemed to feel the same. Neither of them wanted to talk about reality, it was the Dreams that mattered and in the Dreams there were no worries. The whole point in taking M was to avoid your life, so why would you talk about it with other users? Even if they understood it was just better to completely ignore it, to immerse yourself in the Dreamworld. Which was just what they’d done. The Dreamworld was her life now, complete with a boyfriend who was taking her away for the weekend. Her job was just a way to get the money to buy Morpheus. She was counting down the minutes until she could leave. Until she could get home and go to bed to have the life she wanted.