So I have a type.

I play many characters in many different settings and systems. Still, a common theme is easy to point at.

- Deathwatch: Assault Marine with jetpack and chain sword (traded out the chain sword for an upgraded non-chain sword). Melee was his bread and butter. Raven Guard Moritat, if you must know.

- D&D 5e: Traded out my Warlock for a Paladin with a Battleaxe and a whip. Plus, the Paladin can do Smite damage, but only with melee weapons. Oathbreaker turned Vengeance. Difficult to work with.

- Pathfinder: the S&S campaign. Barbarian Tiefling with a Battleaxe and shield. Bite damage that scaled and became better than her axe/main weapon at some point. Singlehandedly guilty of most of the Infamy points of the group.

- Starfinder: Ysoki Soldier with a melee build. Knife and stab-stab-stab, fast-fast-fast, having the next weapon upgrade to be a Doshko (sci fi sword on fire). Surprisingly very nice to her friends.

- Lancer: after a prolonged oneshot played over several sessions the group decided to start a campaign. Now, wanting to trade out the previous character I find myself looking at the Blackbeard mech with Chain Axe, a murderous NHP (Sekmet) and thinking that speed might be a key feature to get into range for some hack and slash and chain axe goes violently brrrrrrrrrrrr... yeah.

Clearly, I have a type. And I'm honestly fine with this. *smiles*

Context is important.

The dream begins with me sitting at the computer. Suddenly, I notice that there is a commotion coming from the other room. It is two people changing the toilet. Finding this odd, I confront them. One of them is the handyman of the building. He explains that it needed to be done, as the toilet is from the sixties. Finding no fault in this logic, I notice that I am naked and try to hide my private areas as much as I can. I return to the computer to try to reach somebody I have an appointment with and explain that the web cam call must be postponed. Internet is glitching in and out - probably because of the work being done in the bathroom. I notice I'm part of a large voice chat group in Discord that have gathered for RP. I do not know what sort of RP, nor why I would be present, so I leave the chat, feeling I should know about this. I reach the person in question, explaining my situation by text, and receive multiple random pictures and memes. This confuses me slightly. Once done with the toilet, the workers fix the lock on my door, too. At this point I'm looking for my small dog, a Chihuahua, beige in color.

The dream changes.

We are at the bottom floor of the building, near its garage/working area. A car, a green Range Rover Defender, stands there, packed with stuff I assume - and later confirm - is mine. The handyman explains that I need to take the car and drive it back to the designated parking space, and that is not here. I get into the car, trying to put stuff in a more convenient way so I can gain access to the driver seat, but before I'm able to do that, the car starts and I'm forced to make due. I reverse out of the garage/working area, trying to find the breaks and the gas. Luckily, I'm able to keep the car on the road and not crash. I drive down a hill, passing a person who's job it is make certain children cross the street unimpeded. Passing her by, she calls out the name of my dog, who I at the time believe is at the back of the car in its transportable cage. The name she yells out is Bonnie. I continue on my way, take a right to the strange road that goes up and around, knowing for sure I have taken a wrong turn.

The dream ends.

Now, some context.

Both the Chihuahua and the Bonnie are dead dogs.

I cannot drive.

The car I drove was packed with luggage making driving said car even harder.

For some, this might have been a pleasant dream. For me, it was a nightmare.