Young and vapid, he wants to show me a large ivory and silver pin that belonged to his father. He wants me to explain the sterling mark so I try to take it from him to see closer. He pulls back, and from the rear of the pin there pops out this little gun with a vey loud click. This is suddenly not just a skit. A tiny gun like that shouldn't do hardly any damage, but then it shouldn't work at all, so I'm not taking chances. Explosives, of a sort, are period. I am very convinced that I am about to die as Lord Aaron drops the stupid act and gets very serious, accusing France of the death of his father in the war. As I am France in the flesh, I get to pay the price. Gee thanks. ''I am not my father, nor his father before him. The war was not mine, and while I cannot bring back the dead I can pledge to shed no more blood in the horrors of war." Thank god he bought that, since it's true (at least in the dream). As I take the pin from him and click the gun back down into it's little slot there is the definite feeling of fate rewriting itself. I'm too real in this dream world, too solid, and I feel it as I press the pin back into his hands with some mumble about keeping it safe for his father.
thankfully the alarm wakes me not too long after.
