OOC: Dream
DREAM: It started out with him strapped to a table. The bright fluorescent lights shinning down in his eyes, too bright and too white, exposing everything. The beeping of monitors off to the side didn’t tell him much, but he knew he was strapped not just to the tables, but to machines. Recording him. A face loomed into his vision-the person anonymous in a lab coat and surgical scrubs, and he knew right then that he hated scientists.
The scientist had a needle, some nameless substance in it that the boy didn’t really want to know, but would have been glad to plunge into the bastard’s eye if only he hadn’t been tied down.
“Hey. Stop spacing out.”
It was a girl’s voice, amused. And he wasn’t strapped to a table, he was sitting in a pizza parlor at one of those round booths, squished between a really, really hot brunette on his left-and another brunette on his right but this one was a guy and sort of pale. On the other side of the girl was a surly looking young black man, and on the other side of the male brunette was some big blond guy. Who was also green. But that wasn’t unusual, not to his dream-self. Sitting together sort of across the table was some guy in a cape and mask and a blond girl.
Everyone at the table was in colorful spandex. This, too, was not unusual. It was par for the course, or at least in the dream it didn’t seam odd to be sitting with this weird collection of people in spandex, eating the most whacked out looking giant pizza -it had to have had like, all the toppings ever invented on it, once you combined all the various sections at least.
“I wasn’t spacing.” His dream self said.
“We know you have no attention span.” That was the surly guy. “But this is important.”
“Uh-huh. You know-”
The male to his right elbowed him before he could make a snappy remark, and the boy half turned in his seat, wanting to say something-
But then he was grappling with a man with a gun. The transition should have been disorienting but it wasn’t. There was a pitched battle all around him, and the world was tinted slightly orange through goggles on his face. He grabbed the man’s gun-and it exploded in his hand. He punched the man and-and moved. He was on top of another guy aiming a gun at the girl-same one that had been in the pizza parlor-and the guy hadn’t even reacted to his punch before he was tackling another man all the way across the room.
The fight probably should have been terrifying or grim, but all he felt was a sense of fun and elation. He heard voices, vaguely registered over the sounds of battle, two calling commands-the surly guy and the hot brunette-when he looked over she was going kung fu on some poor guy and he wanted to laugh at how sexy that was.
The others from the pizza table were there he was pretty sure, lost in the melee. A persistent back-beat to the battle was some voice chanting “iwantiwantiwant” over and over again, another voice yelling a wordless battle cry that was accompanied by three men hitting the opposite wall.
Yeah. This was awesome. He moved to grab one of the enemy that was heading for Mr. Sourpuss-
“Seriously. Can you pay attention for five minutes.” The surly guy asked, glaring at his direction across the table.
“Seriously, can you explain anything in less than five minutes?” His dream voice asked, this time getting an arm down to his ribs to block another elbow-jab from his right. Someone kicked him under the table instead.
“Could you two just get it over with? We’ve got a movie to catch.” The big green blond commented, sort of amused, sort of impatient.
“Fine, far be it from me to hold you lovebirds up.” The boy heard himself say, shrugging.
“Oh good. Does that mean you are going to actually pay attention?”
“You said five minutes, time is ticking, down to four and a bit. Make it count!”
Surly McSurlyson glared, opened his mouth to say something, but than the man in the cape spoke up, voice sort of-off, not really human, more computerized.
“The situation is-"
And then he woke up.