I walked into a large building and saw this young man sitting on top of an Anvil case. It was Stephen of The Siege Perilous; I was shocked how incredibly beautiful he was 'in real life'. Moving and breathing right in front of me rather than tooling around as an idea in my head based loosely on an old photograph from the Eighties, he was everything he ought to have been. Young, rather too pretty, big brown eyes, perfect nose that could wrinkle into a snarl when he sang, lots of thick hair falling into natural layered curls around his shoulders. I was almost afraid to speak to him; I think I knew it was a dream. But it was SO REAL and he was beautiful.
He sat, presenting his profile, speaking to the roadies who were moving around the band's equipment. Dressed in his usual black boots, black jeans, a black t-shirt, and his black leather jacket, ears dripping with earrings, he was an exquisite goth princeling. He rose and walked into another room, where his new wife Nesta was, and she was his size, ethereally beautiful, and smiling. They were perfect together and I remember being happily surprised at that. What had begun as a story challenge from Rhyo was now culminating into a relationship that was loving and well-met. They both turned to me and smiled.
As I walked up to them, he blurred and then I became him. I forgot I was 'me'; I was entirely HIM. We walked out hand-in-hand and went down a corridor. We were now in an old university such as Butler University's music and arts pavillion and we were attending a recital. A couple of musicians from a local band recognised me, but my wife and I sat down and watched the recital. Afterward, as we were leaving, the people who had recognised me began to applaud and the other musicians were trying to get my attention to talk to me, but I had to report to the theatre.
A movie director walked up to me and said that he had wonderful plans for this movie we were making. I laughed and said that I was hardly an actor; my only experience in 'acting' was emoting through music videos for Siege. But he told me I would be playing a Medieval magician who hid his identity through playing as if a Roman Catholic priest, and I was sent into a very expensively-appointed room to learn how to do a Catholic Mass. The room had leather wall coverings and deeply polished wood panels up to the chair-rail; everything in the room was of top quality and seemed like the private den of a very rich man. Over on a tall table (because I was shortish: Stephen is never taller than 5'6" and in the original series he was 5'4" tall) was a 4" diametre round piece of flattened bread and a goblet suitable for a High Altar in some massive edifice such as Notre Dame. I was taught to do Mass.
Then I got into costume and walked on set, where the rest of 'my cast' were. The rest of the band were nowhere to be seen, likely because they were filming other scenes and we were starting with my character's backstory. We were in a ruined tower or castle, with rubble on the floor, and I hopped up on a large block similar in dimension to that Anvil case earlier as the director instructed the magician's cronies...that is, my cronies. The Best Man was being played by Stanley Tucci, who looked as he did when he played Puck in "A Midsummer Night's Dream" about ten years ago. [Stanley Tucci???] We were under attack and what our enemies had not quite sussed was that we were not a priest's household with a few guardian warrior knights--all of my men were knights, as was I, and as another projectile struck the outside wall and stone and dust rained down upon us, I ducked down behind the large dressed stone, saw this bizarre Sci-Fi sword more suitable for a Klingon than a Medieval knight, and I did the SCA thing: "Hey! This sword isn't Period...!!" I yelled through the din as I grabbed the sword's grip.
The set crew and director disappeared; we were now IN that tower in some Dark Age, and the danger was real. I had only a moment to register this when the sword released some sort of wave of power and the Warband and I were transported into the future. It was now 2050 or so and looked a bit like "The Fifth Element" without the flying cars. The group of us WERE Medieval warriors and we reacted with the sort of shock and surprise one might expect after being transported 1,050 years into the future.
The Enemy was still out there and I realised that I was still an Elven Timelord; I had brought us forward to fight what we had not realised back in the 11th Century: The Enemy was not human and it was capable of outliving humanity. Forgotten was the masquerade of being a Catholic priest, or being in a band, or even making a movie. This was real and we had to fight It.
The rest is blurry; I was waking and I lost the thread. But it was so powerfully REAL. One of those dreams that engages all one's senses.
[Stephen, Nesta, and The Siege Perilous are characters in my fiction.]