a strangely accurate dream
We were in a modern day city in broad daylight, lounging around outside a tavern and waiting for our commander to give us our orders. I stood by the commander who was probably mentally going over whatever he usually does. I was not privy to the details. As vice commander, it was my duty to comply with his every order and make sure everyone else did the same. Some of us wore our uniforms, and others did not. In other words, I have no idea what our group was or our purpose.
Before I knew it, everyone had split ways, each team with different destinations. Fellow soldiers remained on the same path for a while before they too were gone, leaving myself and the commander alone to wander the desolate streets of what should be a bustling city. I was a step or two behind my direct superior, as a good vice commander should be. I kept my eyes and ears open, and the comfortable weight of my sword at my hip lent me a small amount of comfort in its familiarity. I was focused entirely on our mission and the safety of my superior. On occasion, I would glance in his direction to make sure he was still there. He was stone-faced as usual and kept a fast even pace, nothing I couldn't keep up with.
In an out of character moment, I stopped and stared at what appeared to be an abandoned piece of weaponry. A small group of thugs sitting on some steps a few meters away didn't even look up at the pair of strangers. It was a very long sheathed weapon simply lying on the asphalt ground. At first glance, it looked almost like a spear due to its length, but common sense told me it was a sword. My commander, noticing I had all but stopped, retraced his steps and stood beside me staring curiously at this piece of junk. The wooden sheath was a coffee brown, faded and scratched and looked to be falling apart. My companion crouched down and inspected it, finally drawing the weapon from its scabbard to reveal... a wooden sword. I stared, baffled. It was an ordinary-sized wooden sword in comparison to the extremely and now obviously unnecessary length of the scabbard. Were they even counterparts? My companion stood and I slowly followed him up, watching as he inspected the bokken. With a few practice swings, he nodded to himself in satisfaction and strapped the newly acquired weapon to his hip. I blinked but didn't question him. I was strangely warmed by his actions.
Along the way, we gained new additions to our once two-man team. One was a medium-sized turtle who the commander apparently adored and was his pet, and the other was a faceless person who, I assume, was my supporting officer. It was still daylight, and we were crouched by a doorway leading into a restaurant or a bar. Seeming to know the way, my commander took lead, and as silently as we could, crept after him. He took a few turns, curving past chairs and tables, and ducked behind the curtains that led into the kitchen. I followed, not looking back to see if my supporting officer kept up. If you're wondering about the turtle, I'm not sure where he or she went. Perhaps tucked under the commander's arms. The corridor was dimly lit and in the distance, I could make out steps that led upstairs.
There was a confrontation I cannot remember the details of, and we were on the run. The landscape blurred from cityscape to countryside, and we were running through grass, wild flowers and weeds down a hill. The scenery was familiar. It was a catastrophic meshing of different areas of my old college campus from Upstate New York. As I raced after my superior, my eyes on his back, I was vaguely aware that somehow the turtle was keeping up. In my peripheral version, I saw the small pond that housed turtles with striking resemblance to our small companion. And in the distance were the barns, although slightly altered, from my true memories.
When we landed at the foot of the sloping hills, we didn't slow our momentum and immediately sprinted towards the fenced in ball-playing areas of what looked like a park. It occurred to me that somewhere along the way, I had lost my supporting officer. However, I wasn't concerned in the least. My only priority was my commander. Before long, we were once again briskly walking through a strangely empty city with glass and metal structures towering over us and not a soul in sight. But it was not a strange thing for us as we took it all in stride. It was the norm in this dream world. Cities weren't meant to be crowded. At one point, I thought the skies were red.
We had small bits of conversation here and there throughout the long walk, though short they were. It was through these conversations that I understood why I was where I was. Loyalty is an unfamiliar concept to me, but the me in the dream was inexplicably loyal to their commander. And there was a sense of companionship in the small talks and even in the long silences. We spoke of getting his turtle a companion where I mentioned the small pond with turtles, the little guy between us, and of many insignificant details. Small stops were interspersed throughout our long trek to interact with our animal companion.
Once again, we stood outside of an unfamiliar establishment. With some hesitation, my superior took one step forward, then another, and soon we were through the doors. I once again dogged his steps, noticing the walls were a bright white in stark comparison to the dark steps we were ascending to the second floor. Without knocking, he opened the door at the end of the steps and led the way inside a sparsely decorated apartment. Silently and with his eyes alone, he commanded me to take a seat on the leather couch. He disappeared behind a wall, and I sat nervously on the couch. Although lounging back as I was, I probably seemed at peace and in charge to anyone else. By this time, my supporting officer had made his or her appearance again and was standing near me pacing back and forth in small circles. I ignored it in favor of my own worries and unease. Something was unsettling me.
When he returned, it was with another man in tow. He was older, past middle age, and his short hairs were graying. Surprisingly he wasn't faceless, but I can't remember the details anymore. They were both speaking quickly and quietly. My commander held in his hands a few slips of paper that immediately caught my attention, and I sat straight, holding my breath for what he was going to say next.
Eventually, he turned to me and told me the news, even smiling somewhat. He was going to California, and I felt like someone had punched me in the gut and knocked the breath out of me. I was furious, upset, angry, and hurt, but mostly just hurt. Was my dream self in love with him? My supporting officer noticed my silence and my fury, and possibly even my torn expression and tried immediately to soothe my worries. His or her words went in one ear and out the other. I hardly paid attention to what my subordinate was saying, so focused on my ball of negativity that felt like lead in my chest, quickening my breaths.
One thought had flashed through my mind as soon as the words left his lips, "I thought I said I didn't want to ever go to California!"
...Was I being petulant? Like a child? Were we in a relationship? What had upset me more? His decision to go to a different state on the other side of the country without telling me? Was it because I simply didn't like California? Was he taking me with him? Or was he not? My feelings were such a chaotic mess that I believe it was everything about the situation that had upset me; the abruptness, the small smile he gave me before he announced the news, the fact that it was California.
The next thing I knew, I woke up. I never found out, but the sense that there was something more than just platonic friendship stayed with me. Oh, and I'm not sure what my gender was. At some points, I felt I was distinctly female, and at others I felt like I was male. O_o;
That California part was obviously thanks to MP and its McDonald's Happy Meal thread. ^^;
Before I knew it, everyone had split ways, each team with different destinations. Fellow soldiers remained on the same path for a while before they too were gone, leaving myself and the commander alone to wander the desolate streets of what should be a bustling city. I was a step or two behind my direct superior, as a good vice commander should be. I kept my eyes and ears open, and the comfortable weight of my sword at my hip lent me a small amount of comfort in its familiarity. I was focused entirely on our mission and the safety of my superior. On occasion, I would glance in his direction to make sure he was still there. He was stone-faced as usual and kept a fast even pace, nothing I couldn't keep up with.
In an out of character moment, I stopped and stared at what appeared to be an abandoned piece of weaponry. A small group of thugs sitting on some steps a few meters away didn't even look up at the pair of strangers. It was a very long sheathed weapon simply lying on the asphalt ground. At first glance, it looked almost like a spear due to its length, but common sense told me it was a sword. My commander, noticing I had all but stopped, retraced his steps and stood beside me staring curiously at this piece of junk. The wooden sheath was a coffee brown, faded and scratched and looked to be falling apart. My companion crouched down and inspected it, finally drawing the weapon from its scabbard to reveal... a wooden sword. I stared, baffled. It was an ordinary-sized wooden sword in comparison to the extremely and now obviously unnecessary length of the scabbard. Were they even counterparts? My companion stood and I slowly followed him up, watching as he inspected the bokken. With a few practice swings, he nodded to himself in satisfaction and strapped the newly acquired weapon to his hip. I blinked but didn't question him. I was strangely warmed by his actions.
Along the way, we gained new additions to our once two-man team. One was a medium-sized turtle who the commander apparently adored and was his pet, and the other was a faceless person who, I assume, was my supporting officer. It was still daylight, and we were crouched by a doorway leading into a restaurant or a bar. Seeming to know the way, my commander took lead, and as silently as we could, crept after him. He took a few turns, curving past chairs and tables, and ducked behind the curtains that led into the kitchen. I followed, not looking back to see if my supporting officer kept up. If you're wondering about the turtle, I'm not sure where he or she went. Perhaps tucked under the commander's arms. The corridor was dimly lit and in the distance, I could make out steps that led upstairs.
There was a confrontation I cannot remember the details of, and we were on the run. The landscape blurred from cityscape to countryside, and we were running through grass, wild flowers and weeds down a hill. The scenery was familiar. It was a catastrophic meshing of different areas of my old college campus from Upstate New York. As I raced after my superior, my eyes on his back, I was vaguely aware that somehow the turtle was keeping up. In my peripheral version, I saw the small pond that housed turtles with striking resemblance to our small companion. And in the distance were the barns, although slightly altered, from my true memories.
When we landed at the foot of the sloping hills, we didn't slow our momentum and immediately sprinted towards the fenced in ball-playing areas of what looked like a park. It occurred to me that somewhere along the way, I had lost my supporting officer. However, I wasn't concerned in the least. My only priority was my commander. Before long, we were once again briskly walking through a strangely empty city with glass and metal structures towering over us and not a soul in sight. But it was not a strange thing for us as we took it all in stride. It was the norm in this dream world. Cities weren't meant to be crowded. At one point, I thought the skies were red.
We had small bits of conversation here and there throughout the long walk, though short they were. It was through these conversations that I understood why I was where I was. Loyalty is an unfamiliar concept to me, but the me in the dream was inexplicably loyal to their commander. And there was a sense of companionship in the small talks and even in the long silences. We spoke of getting his turtle a companion where I mentioned the small pond with turtles, the little guy between us, and of many insignificant details. Small stops were interspersed throughout our long trek to interact with our animal companion.
Once again, we stood outside of an unfamiliar establishment. With some hesitation, my superior took one step forward, then another, and soon we were through the doors. I once again dogged his steps, noticing the walls were a bright white in stark comparison to the dark steps we were ascending to the second floor. Without knocking, he opened the door at the end of the steps and led the way inside a sparsely decorated apartment. Silently and with his eyes alone, he commanded me to take a seat on the leather couch. He disappeared behind a wall, and I sat nervously on the couch. Although lounging back as I was, I probably seemed at peace and in charge to anyone else. By this time, my supporting officer had made his or her appearance again and was standing near me pacing back and forth in small circles. I ignored it in favor of my own worries and unease. Something was unsettling me.
When he returned, it was with another man in tow. He was older, past middle age, and his short hairs were graying. Surprisingly he wasn't faceless, but I can't remember the details anymore. They were both speaking quickly and quietly. My commander held in his hands a few slips of paper that immediately caught my attention, and I sat straight, holding my breath for what he was going to say next.
Eventually, he turned to me and told me the news, even smiling somewhat. He was going to California, and I felt like someone had punched me in the gut and knocked the breath out of me. I was furious, upset, angry, and hurt, but mostly just hurt. Was my dream self in love with him? My supporting officer noticed my silence and my fury, and possibly even my torn expression and tried immediately to soothe my worries. His or her words went in one ear and out the other. I hardly paid attention to what my subordinate was saying, so focused on my ball of negativity that felt like lead in my chest, quickening my breaths.
One thought had flashed through my mind as soon as the words left his lips, "I thought I said I didn't want to ever go to California!"
...Was I being petulant? Like a child? Were we in a relationship? What had upset me more? His decision to go to a different state on the other side of the country without telling me? Was it because I simply didn't like California? Was he taking me with him? Or was he not? My feelings were such a chaotic mess that I believe it was everything about the situation that had upset me; the abruptness, the small smile he gave me before he announced the news, the fact that it was California.
The next thing I knew, I woke up. I never found out, but the sense that there was something more than just platonic friendship stayed with me. Oh, and I'm not sure what my gender was. At some points, I felt I was distinctly female, and at others I felt like I was male. O_o;
That California part was obviously thanks to MP and its McDonald's Happy Meal thread. ^^;