asherdashery (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asherdashery) wrote2013-01-17 08:46 am
asherdashery) wrote2013-01-17 08:46 am
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Dream 6: The Doctor's Children
I don't remember too many details because as I was trying to fix them in my mind, I started falling asleep again, but two dreams, actually:
In the first, I was the Doctor, or maybe Ronald McDonald--a goofy, beloved figure who was tall and radiated benevolence. My son was involved in this giant theater performance that I believe was open to the air because they needed so much room, but the acoustics somehow turned out okay because dream sci-fi logic. Something happened to the performance--it got attacked? And I'm missing some memory here but my son blamed me and at some point he was sitting next to me scratching furiously at his knee, and I looked at it and he had hives all over it from stress and I remember disconnectedly sympathizing, probably because of that time last year I got viral hives with the norovirus that was going around colleges in the Northeast and I had to knock myself out with Benadryl for basically three days straight just to tolerate being alive.
In the second, I wavered between being the Doctor and his daughter, and a bad, sort of bounty hunter-type alien came to try to kill us. We ended up fleeing out the door to where it came from, but there were others like it, dressed like humans but with something off. It was a few-floored dungeon, kind of labyrinthine, like laser tag. Eventually the daughter got really freaked out and fed up and grabbed a gun, and on the side of the gun was a dark little window with an LED display that said how many bullets were left in the gun. It had 40-odd bullets at first, and she kept trying to shoot the aliens right in the brain, but most times she missed and hit the cheek or something and it wasn't enough. The bullets were really small and didn't seem to do much damage unless she shot them right in the cranium and my aim in dreams is always crap.
In the first, I was the Doctor, or maybe Ronald McDonald--a goofy, beloved figure who was tall and radiated benevolence. My son was involved in this giant theater performance that I believe was open to the air because they needed so much room, but the acoustics somehow turned out okay because dream sci-fi logic. Something happened to the performance--it got attacked? And I'm missing some memory here but my son blamed me and at some point he was sitting next to me scratching furiously at his knee, and I looked at it and he had hives all over it from stress and I remember disconnectedly sympathizing, probably because of that time last year I got viral hives with the norovirus that was going around colleges in the Northeast and I had to knock myself out with Benadryl for basically three days straight just to tolerate being alive.
In the second, I wavered between being the Doctor and his daughter, and a bad, sort of bounty hunter-type alien came to try to kill us. We ended up fleeing out the door to where it came from, but there were others like it, dressed like humans but with something off. It was a few-floored dungeon, kind of labyrinthine, like laser tag. Eventually the daughter got really freaked out and fed up and grabbed a gun, and on the side of the gun was a dark little window with an LED display that said how many bullets were left in the gun. It had 40-odd bullets at first, and she kept trying to shoot the aliens right in the brain, but most times she missed and hit the cheek or something and it wasn't enough. The bullets were really small and didn't seem to do much damage unless she shot them right in the cranium and my aim in dreams is always crap.