Review for rose_of_pain

The Mad Reviewer strikes again! Mwahahahahaaaaa!

*swishes by in a cape and mask*

^_-

( Review for rose_of_pain )

66-75 Average

Review for rose_of_pain

The Mad Reviewer strikes again! Mwahahahahaaaaa!

*swishes by in a cape and mask*

^_-

( Review for rose_of_pain )

66-75 Average

Random dreams

I really ought to forget to take my pills more often: it really gets entertaining. ;)

So here are two dreams from last night, although they're a bit fuzzy now.

The first one took place in a large mansion that looked like it was built and decorated in 1940s England. Modern, but not ultra-modern, if you follow.

We (me and a group of people I apparently knew in the dream) were staying at this mansion or resort for an unspecified amount of time, and from the beginning of the dream I knew something was quite wrong. This became rather explicit when, upon entering the dining room I was attacked by an erstwhile guest (or perhaps an employee I'm not sure) of the mansion who had ostensibly turned into a zombie. His skin had turned bluish-grey, and his flesh was decomposing in places, although I remember that I wasn't really afraid. Moreso I was concentrating on finding a way out of the situation.

I remembered then that these zombies were exremely susceptible to any kind of physical injury, which caused them to disintegrate, so I bit him on the little finger and grinned. At this the zombie gave me a nonplussed and rather exasperated look. I'm no kidding. So I pressed my point home, saying "I bit you, you can't do anything anymore."

He replied, "That's not how it works. *You* bit me, but that doesn't mean your character would have succeeded in the attack. You've gotta roll your attack first."

I was extremely annoyed at this, but agreed to roll a die, and turned to another zombie (the room by now was full of zombies and regular people all enacting a silent struggle for dominance) and asked to borrow his dice bag, which he lent me with alacrity.

I don't know exactly what the result of my roll was, because the scene switched to large park grounds in which I was trying to hide from the zombies. The danger seemed much more imminent and present then, and I remember having to crawl through thick undergrowth and past large sculptures of cannons and dying soldiers that I knew were monuments to the McGill students who had died during the First World War. There were a few mourners still there, young women mostly, who knelt by large plaques and memorials and cried silently and didn't notice me at all.

I clambered along large crumbling walls and over huge grey pipelines and lots of grey scaffolding, ducking into abandoned buildings of massive stone each more decayed than the last, brushing the leaves and twigs from my hair.

The dream kind of faded after that, which was a shame as I kind of want to know what happened. ;)


In the other dream I was a guest in another huge mansion which I knew to be the former home of my (ex) best friend Annemarie in the Laurentians. Of course, it looks nothing like this in real life, but in my dream it was truly gigantic, with more rooms than you can shake a stick at, each larger than the last, and made of brick and stone. It was at least four stories high and had an elaborate basement, and each room was richly decorated as though we were still in the 17th century. Some rooms were more 19th century, and my bedroom had a distinctive 20th century feel to it, but what can you do? I don't do interior decorating in my dreams...

I was there with my mother as guests of her friend who had bought the house not too long before. This friend was ML (I've mentioned her daughter VL before in this journal), whose husband used to be the Secretary-Adjunct of the European Council. This is relevant because we were there for an important conference/political gathering where one of the most important French dignitaries would be present.

I don't think this guy was actually the President. He seemed to have a different title, almost as though he were royalty, but not quite. Still, I remember that he was exceedingly good-looking (or so I thought), rather like a Norse king.

We attended a symposium led by a Jewish lady (don't ask how I knew this) on a comparative analysis of the Greek and Hebraic versions of the Bible and how translations inevitably perverted the original meaning of the text. A lot of these studies were conducted by the entire room (seated at one long round table about three feet in width so we made a large circle around the Jewish lady), and somehow by singing we got closer and closer to the truth and the real meaning behind the words. I remember being filled with awe and hope and wonder as I sang, and tears filled my eyes when I finally learned the truth (which I sadly didn't remember when I woke up).

I retired to my room, knowing that the next day was extremely important because the French dignitary would be present at the conference. When I awoke, however, I learned that he had been called away on urgent business. This part was kind of strange, as it looked like I was watching it on a television or movie screen, rather like out of character knowledge. See, it was my mother who was being told this by ML, but somehow in my dream I knew it too, although I the character didn't.

Ack, that's complicated.

Anyway, the character part of me met up with the French dignitary as he was about to leave, and apparently upon seeing me he changed his mind about leaving right away, although it didn't actually seem to be directly related to me.

I accompanied him downstairs where the guests were all drinking a toast with red wine glasses. I hastily assumed my place and raised my glass too, although the entrance of the dignitary caused quite a stir, and many of the people there tried to thank me for convincing him to stay, even though I kept insisting he'd decided on his own.

The conference dissolved into what appeared to be something like a television studio with a whole bunch of different sets, and the dignitary was given a microphone and a camera to make a public declaration, and I suddenly remembered that I needed to change clothes before the next big event.

I hurried back to my room, but found it impossible to change my clothes because there were four doors leading to my room and people kept going in and out without knocking. I was extremely annoyed, and tried locking the doors, but the room was very large, and every time I'd get one or two locked someone would come in through another door and unlock them on their way out.

Finally my father and one of his friends barged in as I was trying to lock the doors and I threw a fit at them. They laughed at me in a remarkably patronising and masculine way,a nd my father offered to help me lock the doors. Everything went fine until we got to the last door, which was built completely wrong, and I couldn't get the bolt to match the hole in the wall.

My father and I struggled with it for several minutes, even going as far as to take the door off its hinges a few times and turning it around trying to find the right angle (it seemed logical at the time).

I'm not sure if I ever got the door to close, because that's when my alarm rang. :)

Random dreams

I really ought to forget to take my pills more often: it really gets entertaining. ;)

So here are two dreams from last night, although they're a bit fuzzy now.

The first one took place in a large mansion that looked like it was built and decorated in 1940s England. Modern, but not ultra-modern, if you follow.

We (me and a group of people I apparently knew in the dream) were staying at this mansion or resort for an unspecified amount of time, and from the beginning of the dream I knew something was quite wrong. This became rather explicit when, upon entering the dining room I was attacked by an erstwhile guest (or perhaps an employee I'm not sure) of the mansion who had ostensibly turned into a zombie. His skin had turned bluish-grey, and his flesh was decomposing in places, although I remember that I wasn't really afraid. Moreso I was concentrating on finding a way out of the situation.

I remembered then that these zombies were exremely susceptible to any kind of physical injury, which caused them to disintegrate, so I bit him on the little finger and grinned. At this the zombie gave me a nonplussed and rather exasperated look. I'm no kidding. So I pressed my point home, saying "I bit you, you can't do anything anymore."

He replied, "That's not how it works. *You* bit me, but that doesn't mean your character would have succeeded in the attack. You've gotta roll your attack first."

I was extremely annoyed at this, but agreed to roll a die, and turned to another zombie (the room by now was full of zombies and regular people all enacting a silent struggle for dominance) and asked to borrow his dice bag, which he lent me with alacrity.

I don't know exactly what the result of my roll was, because the scene switched to large park grounds in which I was trying to hide from the zombies. The danger seemed much more imminent and present then, and I remember having to crawl through thick undergrowth and past large sculptures of cannons and dying soldiers that I knew were monuments to the McGill students who had died during the First World War. There were a few mourners still there, young women mostly, who knelt by large plaques and memorials and cried silently and didn't notice me at all.

I clambered along large crumbling walls and over huge grey pipelines and lots of grey scaffolding, ducking into abandoned buildings of massive stone each more decayed than the last, brushing the leaves and twigs from my hair.

The dream kind of faded after that, which was a shame as I kind of want to know what happened. ;)


In the other dream I was a guest in another huge mansion which I knew to be the former home of my (ex) best friend Annemarie in the Laurentians. Of course, it looks nothing like this in real life, but in my dream it was truly gigantic, with more rooms than you can shake a stick at, each larger than the last, and made of brick and stone. It was at least four stories high and had an elaborate basement, and each room was richly decorated as though we were still in the 17th century. Some rooms were more 19th century, and my bedroom had a distinctive 20th century feel to it, but what can you do? I don't do interior decorating in my dreams...

I was there with my mother as guests of her friend who had bought the house not too long before. This friend was ML (I've mentioned her daughter VL before in this journal), whose husband used to be the Secretary-Adjunct of the European Council. This is relevant because we were there for an important conference/political gathering where one of the most important French dignitaries would be present.

I don't think this guy was actually the President. He seemed to have a different title, almost as though he were royalty, but not quite. Still, I remember that he was exceedingly good-looking (or so I thought), rather like a Norse king.

We attended a symposium led by a Jewish lady (don't ask how I knew this) on a comparative analysis of the Greek and Hebraic versions of the Bible and how translations inevitably perverted the original meaning of the text. A lot of these studies were conducted by the entire room (seated at one long round table about three feet in width so we made a large circle around the Jewish lady), and somehow by singing we got closer and closer to the truth and the real meaning behind the words. I remember being filled with awe and hope and wonder as I sang, and tears filled my eyes when I finally learned the truth (which I sadly didn't remember when I woke up).

I retired to my room, knowing that the next day was extremely important because the French dignitary would be present at the conference. When I awoke, however, I learned that he had been called away on urgent business. This part was kind of strange, as it looked like I was watching it on a television or movie screen, rather like out of character knowledge. See, it was my mother who was being told this by ML, but somehow in my dream I knew it too, although I the character didn't.

Ack, that's complicated.

Anyway, the character part of me met up with the French dignitary as he was about to leave, and apparently upon seeing me he changed his mind about leaving right away, although it didn't actually seem to be directly related to me.

I accompanied him downstairs where the guests were all drinking a toast with red wine glasses. I hastily assumed my place and raised my glass too, although the entrance of the dignitary caused quite a stir, and many of the people there tried to thank me for convincing him to stay, even though I kept insisting he'd decided on his own.

The conference dissolved into what appeared to be something like a television studio with a whole bunch of different sets, and the dignitary was given a microphone and a camera to make a public declaration, and I suddenly remembered that I needed to change clothes before the next big event.

I hurried back to my room, but found it impossible to change my clothes because there were four doors leading to my room and people kept going in and out without knocking. I was extremely annoyed, and tried locking the doors, but the room was very large, and every time I'd get one or two locked someone would come in through another door and unlock them on their way out.

Finally my father and one of his friends barged in as I was trying to lock the doors and I threw a fit at them. They laughed at me in a remarkably patronising and masculine way,a nd my father offered to help me lock the doors. Everything went fine until we got to the last door, which was built completely wrong, and I couldn't get the bolt to match the hole in the wall.

My father and I struggled with it for several minutes, even going as far as to take the door off its hinges a few times and turning it around trying to find the right angle (it seemed logical at the time).

I'm not sure if I ever got the door to close, because that's when my alarm rang. :)