(no subject)
I had a couple of interesting dreams this past week. They were on two different nights, but the second followed the first like it was the next episode in a tv show or something, which is pretty unusual for my dreams anyway. They had a sci-fi/western feel - anyone remember Legend? Richard Dean Anderson as an alcoholic former gunfighter and John De Lancie as the Q-type character (no, not his usual. More like Bond's Q) who supplied him with all sorts of nifty high-tech gadgets with which he fought crime and tried to live up to the larger-than-life expectations people had of him from reading dime novels about his exploits. Anyway, same sort of world, same sort of feel.
I was a maid/housekeeper working for this scientist/inventor (played by David Tennant, yum), and in the first dream we were in town taking an order for something a high-powered gentleman (not the mayor, maybe city council?) wanted made, and in the second the thing was done and we were delivering it. _Why_ the scientist would take his maid along for such things, I have no idea, but staying home and cleaning his house would have made for a pretty boring dream, so I'm not complaining.
What the gentleman wanted was a gun or something, so when we show up in town to deliver it we're all smudged with gunpowder or soot or something. I wipe some off my inventor's nose with my thumb, and then turn to a mirror to take care of my own face, and I LOOK LIKE MYSELF. I _never_ wear my own face in dreams. So weird. I woke up shortly thereafter and I don't remember what any of the rest of the "plot" was, just the situation was so vivid (and surprisingly coherent). It's been tickling my brain for days and I'm trying to figure out how to turn it into a story or something.
I was a maid/housekeeper working for this scientist/inventor (played by David Tennant, yum), and in the first dream we were in town taking an order for something a high-powered gentleman (not the mayor, maybe city council?) wanted made, and in the second the thing was done and we were delivering it. _Why_ the scientist would take his maid along for such things, I have no idea, but staying home and cleaning his house would have made for a pretty boring dream, so I'm not complaining.
What the gentleman wanted was a gun or something, so when we show up in town to deliver it we're all smudged with gunpowder or soot or something. I wipe some off my inventor's nose with my thumb, and then turn to a mirror to take care of my own face, and I LOOK LIKE MYSELF. I _never_ wear my own face in dreams. So weird. I woke up shortly thereafter and I don't remember what any of the rest of the "plot" was, just the situation was so vivid (and surprisingly coherent). It's been tickling my brain for days and I'm trying to figure out how to turn it into a story or something.