moans and chains on an israeli monday morning

my alarm just roused me from an epic dream about the death of an ancient, city-sized castle more under threat from violent, greedy people than the zombies and demons tunneling beneath and sometime even through the walls that those people thought they could exploit. and there was a huge trance festival going on in the grounds as well as chavs playing cricket, both of which needed to be escaped even more desperately than the nosferatu.

i was being all noble, trying to prevent the city from becoming like veranassi: a place of power perverted into just another trap to sell trinkets and distant, half-believed memories to tourists. and then I found myself being cruel to the leaders of the greedy buggers - because they have feelings and families too.