Places of Residence
The house layout is the same, but the overlay is different.
You might ask what I mean by that, and I can explain that it’s a metaphor. People now—your now, in the 21st Century, not mine, in the 32C—like to think about reality in computer science terms. So it’s like the ‘code’ of the house is the same, but the ‘skin’ or ‘GUI’ is different.
You say whatever you say.
I smile at you.
If we are lovers, then I kiss you.
If we’re smutty lovers, while I kiss you, I grab your junk. You can do whatever you want to me, I whisper in your ear, then bite your earlobe.
Then we’re into the dream proper, walking through the house. It’s the first floor. You are with me, but more or less invisible. [Ed., see below, play procedures.]
I’m in the kitchen. The window is on the outside wall, which I guess is fairly normal, but it seems dumb when cold weather comes cos the sink pipes aren’t as well-insulated.
The countertop runs the length of that wall and is green. Like an institution green. There are hanging cabinets across, except for over the sink, the space above which has a light. Behind me—I’m by the sink, facing the window—is the refrigerator. It’s not quite large enough and is always jammed full of food.
A good problem to have, I say.
To my left and down some steps is the finished add-on room. I sleep back there.
To my right is the dining room.
We’re in the dining room. I look out the front window, but don’t really see the yard. It’s more like I’m looking at the window and the whole of the room. To our right from there is the living room. It is long and relatively sparely furnished.
Don’t get lost, I whisper. We’ve turned right, we’re not just looking right. So to our left now is the front door. Next to that is a window, then on the wall we’re now facing, another window, then the door to the side porch—which is screened-in on that side, but also part of a wraparound porch with the front of the house.
I come here a lot, I say. Like this isn’t the first dream in which I’ve been here.
You ask me, if you want, if that’s what I meant about the layout being the same?
No, I say.
I look around once more, and say, It’s the same layout as my house. In the City of Rivers. You know, where I’m from. And also the same as Culli’s house. The one they lived in when we dated. Way back, in the 90s.
Who is Culli? you ask.
I blink and look at you, adjusting my vision, and clarify, saying, Well for you it would be the 90s. My equivalent would be, like, 3083 or something like that.
Before you can ask anymore questions or comment, I go to the front door, open it and look out front.
This yard, I say, has elements of both the house we built and the place we lived in while we were building it.
You may ask me if I mean my house in the City of Rivers.
No, I say. The one Dad built.
You might know that one, you might not, depending upon how you’ve read the book. Or are reading it. Whichever.
There’s some other stuff here, I say, but it isn’t very interesting.
So I step into the next dream.
If you are able to dreamwalk, you can follow me no problem.
If not and you want to come along, I take your hand and lead you across.
While dreamwalking with me, keep a few things in mind:
You are functionally invisible to most entities we encounter. Only very powerful óneira will be able to see you. You are effetively ‘along for the ride’ in terms of your involvement with whatever is ‘happening’ in the dreamspace.
Should we get separated, you will not be able to continue within my dreamspace and may end up in your own or just, you know, awake. Not in the enlightened sense; just in the ordinary waking life sense of awake.
While some óneira may be fearsome, they cannot harm you. They can educate, entertain, or trick you, though. And they can bring you pleasure, if you want that, but only if you are actively dreamwalking yourself. You cannot have nonconsensual (including dubcon) relations with them. It’s not possible.
Think about where you’ve grown up, whether that was a single place of residence or many. Do you still dream about it? If so, think about what the dreams might be telling you. Either way, you can write something about a place you grew up (or all of them, as the case may be) and add it to your list of safe places.
Invisibility works, the óneira sound like Adepts in the theosophy books I've read by Annie Bessant and CW Ledbetter. Very advanced beings who wander down to the Astral Planes now and again. They keep humans at arms length.