"Any last words?"
Standing on the gang-plank, he really couldn't help taking those last words to try and find out what the hell was going on. The woman querying him stood on the speaking-end of a rapier; leaving him the business end, as it were. "Who are you? What are you even doing here, this is my dream."
"I'm a dream pirate and well... figure it out." Before he could say another word she gave him a firm poke with the pointy end of the sword. "Anyway, off you go!"
He plummeted over the end of the gang plank and landed in a sea of nothing. Floating there, he could only watch as his dream sprouted four masts and sailed away. Leaving him with nothing to do but wait until he awoke. Wakefulness came only reluctantly.
The sun comes and the sun goes, as the sun want to do and sleep in its due course claims the realm of the living once again for its own.
Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming.
Spring trickles into dreams like the first scented blossoms of a new year. Spring whose warm hands pluck petals from trees to be showered down on those below. An intangible allure, unspoken, unvisited, present only in dreams...
... so the dream begins, and yet something is different. A dream from yesterday, sporting four masts comes sailing alongside. Oh no not again!
"Ahoy there!" The voice is about as welcome as the whistled cat-call that followed it. "Ooh, nice dream you got there. I think I'll take it."
To have one dream hijacked by this heinous she-devil was one thing but two was entirely too much. "What's your problem? You can't just go around hi-jacking people's dreams."
"Beg to differ deary." She replied, affectionately petting the side of his former dream. "This one was so good I thought I'd come back for seconds."
"You can't have it."
"Prepare to be boarded! Are' matey!" She cried. In a moment she was swinging across the rigging over to his dream - sword in teeth and hair caught dramatically in the breeze. She landed on the deck with an emphatic crack, apparently unperturbed by the knee high leather boots with their dangerously unstable looking stiletto heels. "Defend yourself!"
And so the crazy dream lady with the sword came at him. He'd been caught off guard the other day it was true - surprised as it were - and unarmed. Since this was his dream though, he saw no particularly good reason why there shouldn't be a sword near at hand for just such an occasion.
Sabre on sabre clashed and for a moment it seemed as though things were in doubt. Being as though it was his dream and all though, he saw no particularly good reason why he shouldn't be a master of the blade. And so as she thrust he passed, passata-sotto, under the blade and with a quick slash across her hand sent the weapon careening over the edge of the dream.
"It seems I've bested you." He said, holding the edge of the weapon dangerously close to her neck.
"It would seem so." She admitted.
"Looks like you should think twice about messing around in other people's dreams."
"I suppose."
"So... you'll be leaving now. Being as though I beat you - fair and square as it were."
"Yeah... about that," Her eyes flashed dangerously. "I don't fight fair."
And in one deft motion she drew a flintlock pistol and shot him in the gut and sent him careening over the side after her sword.
Floating in the sea of dreams contemplating death her voice mocked him as it sailed off again. "Hey, thanks again for the dream. See you again tomorrow!"