[h3]Ryan[/h3]

Smoke arose from a half-finished cigar, a bottle of fine port empty and discarded on the floor. Two stacks of paper were being slowly shuffled around, the shuffler here and there pausing to take another sip of fortified wine before diving in once more. [i]Four down, thirty-nine more to go.[/i] It had been a long day. Two sets of assignments due for marking, one exam paper written up for invigilation... He was getting a bit sick of it all really. He leaned back, fighting back a weary sigh. This was supposed to be his day off, dammit... ES was calling for him, the new expansion beckoning him over to the computer like some kind of succubus of procrastination. Maybe he could spare an hour for a change of pace... but no. [i]Ten more, then I'll play.[/i] For a man with as little self-discipline as Ryan, this was deadly concentration. He dragged over another sheaf of papers, already groaning at the number of grammatical errors in the first damn line... It was gonna be a long night.

[hr]

[h3]Brandenburg[/h3]

He rolled over in his sleep, uncomfortable on the hard work desk surface. It wasn't the first time the work of his students had lulled him to sleep and he'd be damned if it would be the last. A small, irritating part of him suggested that it might be time to wake up, get to doing his job for once but in that fuzzy moment between wakefulness and sleep, Ryan just didn't give a damn. He fidgeted some more. The desk was especially uncomfortable today... Bit cold too. And with a certain hint of... grass. He slowly woke up, casting a groggy eye around the room; maybe he fell asleep on a plant pot or- [i]What the shit?[/i]

Ryan came around with a start as he realised he most definitely was [i]not[/i] in his study. Pushing himself up onto his elbows (and finding it oddly easy to do so), he was shocked to find himself randomly in a field. A rather pleasant breeze flowed overhead and the sound of arguing songbirds would have been soothing if he knew what the fuck was going on. Granted, he had woken up in fields before, hungover and unsure of how he got there, but this was different. No headache for a start. [i]Birds, check. Trees, check. People... nope.[/i] Had he gotten [i]that[/i] drunk that he had somehow wandered off and slept so long the hangover had worn off..? Must have been a hell of a night.

So far this seemed the most logical explanation. Luckily he had experience of these sort of situations and knew precisely how to deal with it. [b]'Save me, Google Maps...'[/b] His voice also sounded off, but that fit the drunken wandering scenario too. He staggered to his feet and started rummaging around for his smartphone; it was then he noticed something particularly unusual. He wasn't wearing his usual shirt for starters. He also appeared to have gained a lot of weight on the chest... He squeezed experimentally. [i]Yep, definitely mine.[/i] He squeezed again. [i]Pretty big. And soft.[/i] Ryan hazarded a look down. Before his eyes stood two magnificent mounds, the type that probably required a bit of plastic surgery. At this point his mind flat-lined and for a long minute he just stood there, prodding and poking at his new-found breasts. [b]'Well that's a thing.'[/b] Thinking about it logically, he came to a workable explanation; he was asleep. Somehow that made the whole situation a bit sad. How sexually frustrated must Ryan have been to dream about growing his own tits to enjoy? That depressing thought aside, it was quite a nice dream so far. Very, uh... lucid.

He also inspected his hands as they roved across the jubbly hills, finding that they too were a little unfamiliar. Rather slim and soft, although that might just have been the silk gloves he appeared to be wearing. Further inspection revealed a jacket, blue, gold trim. Familiar... Somehow he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what, or rather [i]who[/i] he currently was and a quick grab at the hat he turned out to be wearing confirmed it.

He sat back down thoughtfully. [b]'So... let's take stock. I'm having a dream about my own PC. Will it be a good dream or..?'[/b] He looked down again. [b]'Or a wet one..?'[/b] Not that it much mattered either way, he likely wouldn't remember anything in the morning. Chalk it up to the crazy shit a brain can think up when pickled alive in alcohol. He tried standing back up, took a few steps. It didn't feel natural somehow; his legs were too thin and never went were he wanted them to go. Also having those weights on his chest made turning a bit of a balancing act... He could easily see himself being thrown off balance by his own assets.

Now then. Dreams contained interesting happenings, yes? That's kinda the point, that's what dreams [i]did.[/i] Luckily one soon presented itself. As Ryan kept experimenting with walking without falling over, he heard a voice calling from a ways away. Didn't sound happy, whoever it was. He decided to wander over, trying to practice his balance as he went. By the time he spied the red-haired young man, he had gotten fairly proficient at it. [b]'Um... Hi.'[/b] He stalled for a long moment, suddenly unsure of what to say. Weren't dreams meant to do the whole conversation thing for you? No effort on your part, you're supposed to be a passenger, not the driver. [b]'Are you...'[/b] And just what [i]did[/i] you ask dream people? Freudian questions about your own subconscious? [b]'... new... here..?'[/b] Come to think of it, he recognised the guy's armour. Definitely an Elder Tale-inspired dream then. In that case, he might as well get into character. [b]'I'm Ry- [i]Brandenburg.[/i] I... think. Also you're... kinda glowing.'[/b]