Network

The picture of my ma in the dreams led me to Mrs Donovan, who told me there are rules to what I can do. She knew my father, and said he had the gift too. A little girl I healed, she recognised me in town, and the people tried to mob around me, but Jonesy got me out of there. And then Samson turned the carnivale into a revival and made me pretend to heal people. Mrs Donovan's son brought her to me, and wanted her healed, but she said she didn't want it so I didn't do it. Now Samson's mad at me, and I think he knows...I can heal things. But in order to heal, I have to take the life from somewhere else.

These dreams are messed up. And it's starting to mess with my head. I don't even know what to think anymore.

There's a kid missing, and the cops are looking for him, and my dream self knows my best friend did it. I confronted him, he didn't even bother to deny it. Apparently he has a habit of killing privileged white boys. I don't even know.

Anyway, that was a fucked up dream. I'm going to go take my frustrations out on a punching bag.

Maybe things in the dream aren't so bad. I have a student. Just one, but you gotta start somewhere, right?

[Robby]
How's the job search going, son?

So in the dreams, the last job should've been the last. I mean... there had been a big payout on that one. Dream version of me was in Berlin when I got a call from Hardison. Some job dealing with a congressman and the military. One specific military personnel who was in rehabilitation due to a blast.

This whole dream thing? It's really showing a lot of shit.

I'm a fighter, hate guns, can disarm someone with no problem, know a lot about the military, can tell what type of gun something is just by the sound of the gunshot, can dismantle a gun with precision, and can speak French. Seems I can throw a rock from a few feet away and break things too. Very specific things, but it's like this deadshot type deal.

Also, everything seems to be distinctive to me. What the hell is that about?

Good to know I'm as hung up on certain things in the dream as I am in my actual life.

Both versions of me are a hot mess.

Finally met with the client who called me in the first dream I had. She wants me to track down her husband. Recently got into magic, and has been missing for three days. She gave me $500, a picture, and a dead scorpion on a string. So yeah. That's interesting.

I'm starting to think that the touchless pay option and chips in credit cards have somehow made people stupider. I had to keep explaining to teenagers today how to swipe their card because the chip reader in our machine was down.

You know, these dreams are not giving a lot.

Supposedly my dream brother, Alec, doesn't like these meetings that our dream old man has. Doesn't like the conspiracy freaks.

Dream me thinks he should spend more time with family. He doesn't see us as real family. And dream me flat out told him that we might not be real family, but we're the only thing he's got.

A part of me wants to know what the hell he does in that damn barn that's so important.

Another part of me? It doesn't give a shit.

I love Ziggy. I do. He's my favorite dognephew. But - Will has to train him that not every tub is running for him. I just wanted to relax because my back was hurting after I twisted wrong playing outside with Aladdin and because Frey and Apollo were worried I left the door cracked just in case I did need to call for one of them.

Not for a blonde dog to come charging through and tackle me inside the tub.

You know... at least DreamRaven is the same as I am on that aspect. Someone asks how I am, and they get told awesome. Doesn't matter if it's true or not.

So the bullet that was stuck in my spine was shifting, pressing against DreamMes spine. If we left it in, then she lived. If they took it out then she could die. DreamRaven decided fuck everything and do the surgery. Mind you, this is all without anesthesia. Which means that the dream version of myself would feel everything.

"In Zero G I didn't need my legs. Down here I do. Take it out."

That was kind of DreamRaven's thing. What she told them. They did manage to get the bullet out. She survived surgery. Only thing? Severe nerve damage to the left leg. Anything from the top of the knee down? Can't feel it. (So, I guess me and my dream self already deal with THAT the same. Stupid dreams)

Finn stayed with me through the surgery, but dream me flat out told him not to be there when I woke up. To go find our missing friends.


These dreams? I swear, they're getting crazier and crazier by the minute.

Hooray for me waking up IN the dreams. DreamOctavia had passed out in the last one. Some grounder, Niko, forced her to drink some weird ass liquid. I don't know what it was. But it look like a very light purple color. It was drink or die. So, yay for choices. Whatever he gave her caused her to pass out. He said if she could stand, then she should run.

LIKE HELL.

Dream me was determined to get to Lincoln. Literally took a rock to Niko's head and held him at... well, held a sword to his throat and forced him back to the camp. Some lady was there. She spoke Trig too. Not anything I understood, really. But it was basically a trade off. I give them their healer and they give me back Lincoln, at a certain point.

She came through. Brought Lincoln to the rendezvous point. In which dream me APOLOGIZED to Niko. (He said Lincoln was his friend)

And then Reapers came out of nowhere.

AND dream me is back to being knocked out again.

I'm looking into getting a psychiatric service dog, and wondered if anyone had experience with one?