Another Faceless Lady and Surgery

The semester ended the other night.  I stayed an extra day, so I could change rooms.  Anything to escape my horrible roommate.  Seriously, he's almost literally the Roommate from Hell.  Some nights he comes in smelling of alcohol and brimstone and he leaves singed footprints on the tile of our dorm room (and those take forever to wash out of the floor).  That aside, the night was rather quiet as I was one of the seven students remaining on a campus which normally houses 5000+.  It was really lonely, too.  So, as usual, I sought refuge from the loneliness at my favored hearth, Taco Bell.

I was making my usual round about the outside of the building (it helps prevent anyone unwanted from following you) when I saw her by the drive-thru order mic.  She was wearing a red dress reminiscent of the one Marilyn Monroe wore, except of course that it was red and ended just above her knees.  Her days-long legs ended in a pair of red pumps  Long flowing blonde hair fell about the sides of her head and she was leaning over to the passenger side as though whispering something in the window.  She was rather shapely and quite easy on the eyes, except that she didn't have a face.

I don't know where she comes from or what she is, but I'm starting to wonder if it's more than a coincidence.  They don't act like noppera-bo so I'm kind of at a loss as to what they are, but I can't help but wonder if they're showing themselves to me for a reason.  They kind of remind me of dream-things which some dream-psychologists refer to as "supernumeraries".  They're like the extras that your brain doesn't flesh out in dreams.  They're far too detailed to be those.

Also, I'll be gone for a few days.  I've got some surgery tomorrow and I won't be coherent for a few days.  My wards at home are strong.  I'll probably be okay.

Let's hope.

Lost Time and The Unseelie Court

I woke up this morning and, per routine, checked my phone.  This can't be right, I thought.  It said 6:30 AM December 14, 2009 and then immediately ran out of juice.  After putting it back on the charger, I set called a gentleman I had gone to see the night before.  His preferred moniker is "Mr. Pocketwatch".  After a brief conversation and some words I won't repeat here, I learned that I've been gone for just under a week.  If I had gone to the meeting last Tuesday and I came back today, which is next Monday, then it's been nearly a week. 

Crap.  Finals Week.

"But it's okay!" he replied, "We left a fetch for you!  He took your tests for you and we made sure he got good grades."

So missing the point, Pocketwatch.  But perhaps I should explain what I was doing "last night."

It's taken a while, but I finally managed to shmooze my way into the local Fae's confidence and last night they took me to be properly presented at the Unseelie Court, which is in power this time of year.  About 4:45 PM, near sunset, I left campus to meet my contact, the aforementioned Mr. Pocketwatch.  He led me through a twisting series of streets I didn't think such a small town was capable of until somehow, we found ourselves standing in front of a palatial manor with so many floors there's no way I wouldn't have noticed it in town before.  He flashed a plastic card to two men who appeared to be carved from living granite and they let us into the house.

As large as it was on the outside, the inside was literally infinitely bigger.  Upon entry, the first thing I noticed (kind of impossible not to notice, really) was what looked like the unobstructed brilliant night sky surrounding on all sides save for a small door through which we had entered.  The ground underneath was an endless grassy meadow stretching off into the infinite distance.  Shortly ahead of us was a large gathering of Fae, neatly arranged with most of them on the ground and several low seats surrounding a throne.  I can't remember exactly but it looked to be made of clear plastic (or something clear, anyway) and rigid Autumn leaves.  Lots of other adornment, too.  Some strange slinky Fae were dancing with scarves that looked like they were woven from Van Gogh's "Starry Night" in the midst of the gathering.  Mr. Pocketwatch stepped into the circle and I followed.

Things get a little fuzzy after that.  I remember bowing courteously to the really thin lady in the throne (I do remember that her crown was made of golden wheat).  Then there was a blur of eating and dancing and as some point I remember Pocketwatch announcing my name with something that sounded like triumph.  And then applause and shouting. And then I woke up this morning with legs sorer than I've ever had them and a mild disorientation.  Don't get me wrong, having a fetch to deal with my tests and my horrible roommate is quite a(n unsettling) benefit. It's just annoying that the meeting took a week.

A little warning would have been nice.

What's a Daydream?

It has occurred to me (finally) the that the title of this blog may be a bit confusing.  The latter portion, "The Life and Times of a College-Aged Daydream," in particular.  The explanation is twofold

First, it needs to be stated that the Buddhist concept that "reality is what comes out of the eyes rather that into them" is not far off.  Our expectations shape reality.  When people believe in the existence of something so fervently and for so long, it simply starts to be.  Technically these things are imaginary, but just because it's imaginary doesn't mean it isn't real.  This also doesn't mean that the things they believed in didn't already exist.  There are many kinds of Fae creatures, some of which are imaginary and some which have always been real.

Second, many of these so-called impossible creatures were also thought to intermingle their own blood with that of men and women.  Dhampir and Cambions are two examples which come from real creatures.  The Daydream is another matter.  They are a catch-all term for the blood descendants of the imaginary things.  Most of the time, this doesn't manifest in any significant way.  Usually they may be a bit more lucky that the average person or display certain aptitudes or personality quirks often displayed by their progenitor.  Sometimes, though, they'll be significantly like whatever they descended from.

I am of the latter sort although I don't know what I come from or what sort of strangeness that entails.  Except that I see through whatever illusion keeps the rest of mankind blissfully ignorant.  My guess is that it comes from my dad considering the incident with the Gremlins on Thanksgiving.  I should really ask when I go home for Christmas.  Wow this sounds like some creepy otherkin self-explanation.  Relax, I'm not some delusional "dragon with gold eyes who breathes rainbows trapped in a human body."

As far as I know.

Drunken Revels and Swan Maidens (again)

One of my friends had his birthday over the weekend.  When asked what he wanted, he replied "capture the flag!"  So they held a campout in which to play.  I couldn't go since I had to finish a paper for finals.  Anyway, it turns out that their party was a lot less "capture the flag!" and a lot more "get drunk and see how big we can make our fire".  It's pretty standard when you know my friends, so yeah...

The really interesting thing is that one of my friends this morning told me about two "really bitchy girls" who showed up about 2 AM in their campsite.  He also remembered that they were really, really attractive and somehow the line of group reasoning turned shortly to a "birthday present" for our birthday friend.  In the morning, they were gone and nobody remembered a thing about what happened, but his sleeping bag was covered with white down feathers.  Which gets me thinking...

Swan Maidens.  We've already been here once.  I get the feeling I know what went on.  Might as well call them werewhores.  The thing I want to know is, why do they keep finding my group of friends and what they want (apart from the obvious)?  Side note:  Why do people not notice or remember the preternatural things going on about them?  Is there something in normal people that just shades it from their minds?

Time to put on my detective pants.

Glens and Hearths

There are strange places, overlooked by many, that don't seem encumbered by the outside world.  Where the atmosphere can simply be described as "positive" and any internal negativity flows away quickly.  Seemingly mundane locations unencumbered by the sometimes crushing banality of the outside world.  Hot or cold, they're never intolerable.  The light is bright but never glaring.  Or sometimes dim, but not dark.  Some of these places don't actually exist in this world, rather extending into an "Otherworld" or taking space in the conceptual.  Some of these are very real and some especially unexpected.

They used to be called Glens.  They were wild places thought to be the meeting ground of the Fae.  They were right, to a degree.  The imaginary variation (and just because it's imaginary doesn't mean it isn't real, more on that another day) would hold great revels in these places because the disbelief of the outside world was less powerful there.  As time pass and more lands were settled and developed, the Glens were built upon.  Many became Hearths, pubs and restaurants which displayed the same nature.  Inevitably, these places would attract a clientele which simply liked "the vibe".  Imaginary things still enjoyed these places, albeit in a more location appropriate way (often drunken parties).

I've got a Hearth I like to frequent.  It's a Taco Bell.

Auric Phenomena

After auditions for our spring show the night before last, a couple of my friends and I went out for dinner.  We hit a little mexican place a few blocks from campus.  What we ordered or talked about is immaterial (though it was a rather enjoyable evening).  When we walked in, I noticed a couple having a hushed conversation in the corner.  Their eyes were locked and he reached over to take her hand.  I like to think he was talking about their future together or something sweet like that.  Anyway, once they touched their silverware rose a few inches off the table.  Their forks and spoons actually floated upward a bit.  It wasn't particularly noticeable if you aren't normally looking for the unusual, but that's kind of what I do.  As soon as he pulled back so they could get up and pay their bill the silver fell but they just dismissed it as one of them bumping the table while rising.  I love how people do that.

It was an auric reaction.  Don't get me wrong.  I don't buy all the new-agey aura of divine energy crap.  But it's actually reasonably well established that most if not all living creatures have some kind of electromagnetic field or "aura" surrounding them.  Normally they're not visible though their effects can be seen; like the reaction between the lovers' auras in the restaurant.  Most people ignore them.  We can photograph them now, using Kirlian photography.  Under normal circumstances, they're not visible.

Under metanormal circumstances on the other hand, they are.  In particular, when someone us actively using magic their aura becomes a luminescent nimbus around their body.  The color is individual to each person though different people can have different or even same-colored auras.  Auras also include an olfactory component.  This is individual, often requiring a rarified sense of smell to distinguish.  They're even perceptible when the aura isn't visible as the person's "natural scent".  For instance, my aura manifests as a deep forest green accompanied by the scent of woodsmoke.  If one knows how to distinguish however, they'll find it smells like burning cedar.

So y'know that really smelly guy in you pass by every day?  Just be glad he isn't a magic user.

Desperate Incubi

There's a gentleman in his thirties who has integrated himself into my social group.  He's a graduate student and shows up at most of the parties held by theatre people.  And come 3 AM (the Witching Hour, incidentally), whether he's drunk or not, he tries to get into someone's pants.  Including mine (and I'm just not interested in men).  In fact, he's been going about it while sober lately, too.

The funny thing is that he also reacts to religious symbols with a perceptible aversion, not even acknowledging the bearer.  Not only that, but he appears to sustain contact burns from silver and can't cross a line of salt (as was evidenced by my paranoid actions at a friend's house party).  The likely cause:  He's an Incubus.  While I shy from calling him a demon per se, Incubus is as good a title as any.  He likes sex.  A lot. And he responds to supernatural stimuli like the namesake.  So he's either one or a supernaturally resonant nymphomaniac.

And if he's hitting on me, he must be pretty desperate.

Machine Elves and a Thought About Zombies

First, thankfully the Machine Elves have stopped screaming.  They quit about 2 AM this morning.  I really hope there wasn't too much damage.

The other thing.  I was just wondering why people assume that if zombies appear or (heaven forbid) there is a "zombie apocalypse", it will be some kind of disease.  I'm not a biology major, but I was kind of working under the assumption that when a disease kills its host, it dies too.  So how would a disease reanimate a formerly (debatably) intelligent creature into a rabid cannibalistic undead monster?  I can see brain damage reducing them to that state, but the reanimation itself is just too far fetched.  Heck, if the blood isn't flowing they shouldn't even be able to move!  It's called "rigor".  Human+Virus+Death=Alive because Screw you biology!

Now necromancy, that I know of.  I have seen on more than one occasion corpses raised to do the bidding of necromancers.  They prove delightfully vulnerable to fire and that is indeed the only way to actually kill them.  Of course since they're just puppets, you also don't have to deal with that "I'm rabid and I hunger for the flesh of the living" thing.  With magic it's possible.

So, regarding this rant anyway, "Magic good, biology bad."