My dreams have been getting more... Positive(?) of late - or, at least, I've been having more in-dream agency (not quite lucid, but Dream-self has been more competent and powerful), and this one was quite amusing. (Mostly safe-for-work, strongly implied, mutual and consensual horniness.)
(TL;DR: Dinner date with Nice!Alcina Dimitrescu, and most hilarious Counterspell ever.)
The setting, for once, was totally unfamiliar to me. Usually it's the old High School, or some other old trauma stomping ground. Brand 'new' this time. A haunted mansion/castle situation, but DreamLogic indicated it was 'safe' in important metrics (structural, legal, etc).
The scene, a house party! A supernatural house party! A mixture of guests in costumes and actual supernatural beings, but, oddly, not specifically Halloween. Werewolves and bedsheet-ghosts and other beings, all with red solo cups in hand, all happily intermingling to background music. Great times.
There were two parts that amused me so much I remembered them on waking.
The first (which was actually the later half) part was that I was on a dinner(?) date with Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, except she wasn't the haughty villainous part; Alcina if she were more of a regular lives-in-the-real-world person. Still massive, still 'vampiric', still the hat and dress and makeup and all, but not an asshole. She was delightful. Like the version you'd actually want in your life. Exceedingly charismatic, confident, pleasant company, wonderful conversationalist, deploying hints of her fiendish nature for comedic and/or lewd effect.
Cutting from pleasant seated dining, we stood at a deli(?) counter (all in the same setting, mind you;) waiting to order, while Alcina discussed plans for her upcoming PTO in which she was expressing an interest at a getaway, assuming my attendance before even asking in a total power move ("Somewhere the walls are as durable as they are soundproof.")
She spoke like she had a complete read on me, my desires, my thoughts, all of it - but never such that I felt vulnerable or exposed. It was like the conversation she was participating in included my thoughts and feelings, and Alcina acted as though she was playing coy-but-interested catch-up with my flirting, despite having done none directly (out loud, at least!)
It was then I heard a random selection of women from my old college (college here meaning akin to a dorm, a live-in place of some ~200 similarly aged university students, individual rooms, communal meals, events, drinking, etc), neither foes nor friends, stage-whispering their disbelief at the situation. "Is that Bear? Is he with Lady Dimitrescu? What's she doing with him? Surely it's a coincidence- no, look, shut up! They're talking!'
Alcina caught on at the same time I did, and played it up a touch; her deep, gentle chuckle at one of my endless japes became a reserved, but open, back-of-hand-to-cover-mouth giggle, as natural and warm as a sunset, like the 'genius' of my stupid joke had only just caught up to her.
"She's laughing at his jokes?! They're not out together are they?!" Their incredulousness grew, which delighted Alcina, and awoke something dark inside. Eager to devour their shock and awe, she shot me a direct smile; lidded eyes, a hint of teeth pulling tenderly at the flesh of her bottom lip, smile curling at the corners - a distant, heavy hunger, hanging like a torrential storm on the horizon of her eyes. "Did you see that?! That look she gave him!? Are they- no, definitely not! I didn't see it - I did! Absolutely! What the heck!"
She turned to order something as her number came up, and I realised that I was, basically, just above shoulder-height with her ass, and she was, with all the grace of an olympian, subtly angling toward me as she towered over the deli counter, asking about the rich, succulent meats on display.
Even without her looking, I felt her mind's eye on me, daring me to dance her wicked, social dance. As but a mere mortal man, dear reader, I must tell you, I did; I twisted back, and clapped her left cheek as hard as I could without taking a running start, leaving my hand there with a dominating grip, before letting it fall away. A resounding, jiggling impact, that I know stung to high heaven - I could immediately see my handprint, as a welt, raise through the tight fabric of her dress.
Alcina didn't miss a beat in placing her order, not a single quaver in pitch or pace, but her bright, golden eye wheeled upon me, wide and divine, as she continued her order; I saw a horrifying mixture of barely contained joy, and unbridled hanger, as all we heard were shocked gasps from our captive audience.
I felt, simultaneously, a tiny, terrified speck of a morsel under the gaze of Judgement, and a beloved and radiant divinity, set to be vigorously worshipped until kingdom come.
The OTHER part of this dream (before the above) was short, sharp, and shiny.
Wandering a derelict part of the mansion, amongst rubble, I chanced upon some old banded-iron doors in stone walls, straight out of Skyrim. One flew open, and a proper Hag emerged, like the real menacing, terrifying kind, steal-your-soul kind. Pointing her finger at me, she howled, to the surprise of no one, "I'M GOING TO STEAL YOUR SOUL, WIZARD BOY! EHEHEHEH!" And moved to open her hag-bag.
With catlike reflexes, I picked up a large piece of rubble, like two-handed cinder-block-sized, boomed "COUNTERSPELL!", span once and fucking shot-put it. It absolutely beaned her, right on the head, with a wet THUCK and satisfyingly shocked "ACK!" from the Hag; astoundingly durable, it seemed only to wound her spirit, and she immediately fled.
Even in the dream, I strode away like I'd done some absolute bad-assery.
Definitely writing that one down for later use in games. Fuckin' Gold. "Counterspell!" Yeet! ACK!
Anyway, thanks for reading. Bet you can't tell what kinds of things I used to write on forums and MUX/MUDs back in the day, huh. :P