Nazi de Niro and Angel Wings

 We were following a young Robert de Niro throughout the early 1900s, which turned into early 1930s and him flamboyantly wearing a big, fluffy red cap and scarf, both sporting a swastika. Everybody were nazis, but he was one of those who made fashion out of it.

We were swaggering throughout the city, which felt like it could have been New York, playing music and some of us dancing. I ran on walls, bounced off and did flips in the air.

We eventually ended up outside an office, where people were staying late. Maybe working, maybe having a late office Christmas celebration. We were goofing around, singing songs and eventually they all came out to watch us. We filed up to try and actually sing something nice. Hanna Lantto gave me a tone and then we started a light-hearted Christmas song. I told her that I had a harmony for it, which I didn't, but tried making one up.

Since I did have angel wings, she encouraged me to fly a little, as part of the show. I didn't feel very confident, but slowly rose above the group to a certain acclaim from the spectators. As I climbed higher, I thought I'd make a little fly by, and started to dive. I was able to pull myself up just short of the ground and got a great "oooh" from everyone. I wasn't sure at the point if it was me managing that or someone else allowing me to. Weird sensation, when I think about it. 

Ellie, Arild and the Great Zerg Rescue

 I was walking down the winding road towards the sea, when to my right I saw something on the stone fence. Lying there, weathered-looking and worn, was my old diary. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen it.

Its cover still blue, I flicked open the pages and to some extent the content was still legible, though most of the ink was washed out from days of rain. I flipped it closed and opened it from the back instead, where I found the voluptuous writing of a girl. Someone else had written in it! It occured to me how fun it would be if perhaps more people had written random stuff in it, rather than feeling any sort of breach into my integrity or property.

The entry was about leaving an instrument somewhere, among other things, and seconds after having read it I ran into a girl called Ellie. We'd met before and while I wasn't sure I even remembered her name, it became obvious that she knew me well and had written that entry very much aimed at me. I wasn't sure of her intentions and she wasn't playing with an open hand so I tried holding her to gauge her reaction. She was mildly evasive but I persisted and she gave after. We stood chatting for a while and I tried grazing my lips on her forehead. It occured to me that this was a girl who required me to be assertive. I spun her around so I could hold her from behind and then went into a kiss from there.

...

We were travelling across London's Tube network-

...

A Heroes of the Storm match was raging and our two teams were killing the Shrine Guardians strewn across the mid gauntlet and after having survived the enemies' Punisher's onslaught, and them about to gain another one, suddenly we hit enough points to win its favour. It started running down their lane while I got stuck inside some sort of fence in my tank. This is when it switched over to first person. Being sieged up, I tried lobbing some grenades to blow holes in it, but nothing happened and my team mate urged me to hurry up - we didn't have much time.

I unsieged and we found the auction with the orphans, infiltrating it discreetly as they were being sent off in different directions. We pretended to be herding three of them; at least we'd be able to bring them out of tyranny's hands. My commanding officer rushed back in to try and get more, his green rain poncho blowing heavily in the wind. Just as he'd gone, our captain rushed up to meet the rest of us:

"We have to move! I'm picking up some impossible sounds and movement! It could be a Zerg swarm!"

Just as we were about to get the children aboard, the wall opposite crunched and gave way as an enormous ship snaked its way through. It first looked alive, before I realised that the bow was just made like a dragon's head, the rest of the hull put together in links so that it flexed, writhed and moved. It came with ferocity and speed, tearing throw the floor planks of the great pier house without hardly any resistance before stopping just meters from where we were standing.

The geysers of Arild

 Our old core family was standing on a hill that was nigh on a mountain, overlooking the harbour and beaches of Arild. We were all young, though everyone but dad had their current minds. He found a giant toothbrush buried in the hill and started doing silly charades for us. We all laughed half-heartedly, as one would do when witnessing a child perform their antics, in part because it was charming and endearing and in part because we knew that he needed to be funny.

We could see the geysers from up here, some along the hillside and others down by the water. One was particularly embedded in the wave strike zone and was one moment flooded, the next shooting off such a strong puff of heated air and steam that it blew all the water away around it. It was very cool to watch and I reflected that this must be the old Arild, where geysers still were active. We ventured down the hillside to see it.

Once down there, we ended up walking through the wooden maze of huts that was the harbour. Rooftops were low and made with planks or straw. I was trying to climb up on one but they were either too steep or blocked by other buildings. Someone started singing Can't Help Falling In Love With You and suddenly everyone in the place were at it, me feeling particularly confident and as we were gliding along a raft to get out from the huts, I was singing the final line by myself, urging a couple sitting there watching to hold on to romance.

We were all in a tremendous cathedral and Wictor was sound checking me. I was standing on the front row benches, trousers down by my ankles, showing my parts to most of the church who'd shamelessly take a peek. Most didn't. Somehow pulling my trousers up felt like a immense effort. Wictor was frustrated as I was trying quite loud singing or shouting in the mic and it kept distorting. Eventually I decided to pull my trousers up and an old lady seemed to approve that it was a bit more proper for church. I still stood on the benches though, but it started to seem as if the sound was getting better too and that we might be ready to start.