Hoth Escape
Dec. 18th, 2011 02:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cremainsI dreamt I was a droid in the Imperial army. My detachment was sent to Hoth to clear snow for the Emperor. As we were busy cracking this cliff of ice and blowing away snow, suddenly the cliff-face fell to reveal a gas duct, which blew poisonous fumes at us. I realised that the Emperor all along hadn't wanted some random snow cleared, he just wanted this droid detachment to die, and now he was going to kill us with gas. The sole survivor of my regiment, I managed to climb over the gas duct and through a weird sort of tunnel.
The tunnel lead into a huge, cluttered, filthy kitchen. I clattered to the floor, got up, and looked around. Used pots were hanging everywhere and puffs of smoke obscured the air. There were grease spots streaking any visible wall space. Most urgently, however, my entrance had caused a fire to one of the tin ceiling fans and I had to put it out before somebody noticed me. Thankfully I had some sort of fire extinguisher attachment on me.
I heard someone coming and shoved aside some broken dishes and dented pots to sit in the cupboard; I thought my dirty robot body blended in well. The chef came in, a dark-green goblin with a giant paunch covered with stains. He had a little tattered chef hat, cocked to one side, and carried a spatula in the other hand. He looked this way and that. He saw me, but even though he registered what I was, that was not significant to him. I really was just like a kitchen utensil.
In a freak twist, I "woke up" to realise that my whole world was actually a video game designed byegregious. I was playing a demo version in a dark bar while she looked on. "This is really awesome, you have to make it," I told her.
But then even though I was myself the world turned out to be the same dystopian Star Wars world, and somehow I still ended up being that droid.
The tunnel lead into a huge, cluttered, filthy kitchen. I clattered to the floor, got up, and looked around. Used pots were hanging everywhere and puffs of smoke obscured the air. There were grease spots streaking any visible wall space. Most urgently, however, my entrance had caused a fire to one of the tin ceiling fans and I had to put it out before somebody noticed me. Thankfully I had some sort of fire extinguisher attachment on me.
I heard someone coming and shoved aside some broken dishes and dented pots to sit in the cupboard; I thought my dirty robot body blended in well. The chef came in, a dark-green goblin with a giant paunch covered with stains. He had a little tattered chef hat, cocked to one side, and carried a spatula in the other hand. He looked this way and that. He saw me, but even though he registered what I was, that was not significant to him. I really was just like a kitchen utensil.
In a freak twist, I "woke up" to realise that my whole world was actually a video game designed by
egregious. I was playing a demo version in a dark bar while she looked on. "This is really awesome, you have to make it," I told her.But then even though I was myself the world turned out to be the same dystopian Star Wars world, and somehow I still ended up being that droid.
