I never remember my dreams, but I have a very active imagination. I often walk around my room (or apartment) seeing and hearing things in my head: magic battles, tense political discussions, quiet family time; I find all of this very enjoyable. I have a few running storylines.

Perhaps my favourite one is about starting a modern dynasty — not in the royal sense, but just as in getting really rich and having a bunch of rituals. I think rituals are cool, for one, but also very useful. I read this thing once — and I’m not gonna fact check this — that groups that partook in religious sacrifice, such as setting aside water that was not for drinking or food that was not for eating (offerings, for example), actually ended up being more prosperous than groups that didn’t partake in that kind of ritualistic behaviour; we don’t fully understand why that’s the case, of course, but one could imagine that the ability and habit of working with less than you have, surviving on less than you can make, delaying satisfaction, results in people that can make more and last longer. This to say, sometimes weird rituals that feel like they have no meaning or sense actually hold some hidden advantage that can only be reaped by partaking in what seems silly at first.

Because I think rings are kinda cool, signet rings ended up being incorporated into my daytime delusions, specifically the ritualistic passing down of a ring, the forging, the authority that it commands simply by being on someone’s finger. What I love most about this is that signet rings aren’t useful any more. They used to carry a seal that would be imprinted onto wax for official correspondence, but now they only symbolize — or signify — someone that would have the authority to sign a letter with the crest of the family. To a lesser extent, the ring is also tied to the moment it was forged; if the wearer gets fatter — fills up with greed — the ring won’t fit right, if the wearer gets skinnier — loses sense — the ring won’t fit right. It becomes an anchor to a moment, to a state in which the wearer was once deemed worthy.

The particular concept I came up with was to forge a ring for every first born of the family — the so-called mainline — and that this mainline would have a meeting every 5 years on a remote island, preceded by a large banquet where everyone in the family is invited. The meeting itself would be in a closed-off room, and the ring must be taken off and handed to who they trust most. The point of this ritual would be to simultaneously reinforce the idea that it is necessary to rely on others and to signify hierarchy; if you get a ring, you’re the person that should be tasked with deciding what to do whenever a decision must be made and the ring-bearer isn’t available — that sort of thing. I think it’s cute.

This idea ends up taking many decades, centuries, in my head, so it blends with other smaller storylines. One I think is really cool is the one with the ravens. I think ravens are incredible animals, and the idea of befriending a flock really speaks to me. I had this idea to put a little ring on ravens of different flocks — my contact points — and just befriend them. As the years go by, the ageing ravens would come to be accompanied by a fledgling and motion to the ring: they selected an heir, and were guiding me to the next generation of human-raven communication. Isn’t that cool?! I think so.

Another one is the fae. I’m not particularly superstitious, and I don’t really believe these sorts of fairytales, or any sort of fairytale, really, but when there’s a simple fix to an extremely unlikely — virtually impossible — situation, why wouldn’t I just prepare myself, just in case? I sound like a doomsday prepper, except, from my understanding, they actually think the end is nigh or something. Regardless, when people ask for my name, I don’t give it, I tell them; that sort of minutiae. In this specific delusion, fae and demons and all sort of magical and fantastical less-than-nice beings turn out to be real, and decide to make themselves known, more or less. The details of how the world came to be the way it is in my mind is never made clear, but the truth of the matter is that the existence and danger of these beings is broadly recognized and acknowledged, though the world seems to function relatively normally, save for some additional precautions.

In this situation, my weird paranoia and general preparedness resulted in a high interest by governmental organizations in my “expertise” on the matter but, in typical me fashion, I vehemently refuse to help them because “why the hell would I put myself in a position to interact with the fae?!”

It’s a comedy.

Then, three people show up at my doorstep: a fae, a vampire, and a secret service agent, asking for my help in forming and guiding a specialized ahuman taskforce for the neutralization of magical beings, à la CSM. And all the other shows, books, and whatnots that follow this cliché plot-line. Still, I love thinking about it. When they knock on my door, I come out wearing headphones blasting Katy Perry, steel and silver necklaces with pendants of all the major religions of the world, a cold metal bat, some wooden staked on a utility belt, and a VTuber ill-fitting shirt; it’s ridiculous, but this is my kind of humour. I’m looking forward to thinking about this one more.

That’s it for today!