[ WP ] You possess the ability of persistent lucid dreaming . Accompanied by a strange man/woman , together you build a world you revisit every night . One day you see them at a coffee shop . You immediately recognize each other .

Their nation was a fantastical realm of romance and magic. 
 My nation was a incredible realm of industry and science. 
 
 Naturally, we were at war. 
 
 It is possible, that I was taking my dreams too seriously. But I felt offended, nay, *outraged* that somewhere in my subconscious I believed an elf could dare take on a battalion of gunmen and survive. 
 
 Preposterous! Foolishness! Idiocy! 
 
 We slaughtered them in their droves, and even captured their princess. 
 
 Who apparently was the reigining body. Who knew. She had long red hair, freckles all over, and for some reason would n't obey her master in the workhouses we put her to: shackled to a robot, of course. 
 
 I watched her progress with interest across my dreams. She seemed... Wrong. 
 
 Around her, beings would try to free her. Rats would come when she sang. Thankfully, we ensured the place was full of poison. 
 
 the very birds would try to fly her away, but we had many drones to shoot them down. 
 
 One day, she did n't do any work. 
 
 I had her flogged, naturally. 
 
 Eventually, her tears stopped, and she became harder. I was amazed, actually. 
 
 It's rare a Elfheim lass would survive. Most break down and allow the constant pressure of the iron around them to kill them. They do n't have the mettle to deal with our metal. They're creatures of flower and nettle, not flame and forge. 
 
 I grew sympathetic, viewing on my many monitors. I felt that her growing silence would pose a risk to my workers should she snap, so perhaps now would be time to provide the sprig of peace. 
 
 It was a red sky, as I strolled down the city streets, resplendent in my golden cape. 
 
 She was made to work in the spinning jennies, and so yelped as I dragged her out from under the cotton-smithing machine she was working on. 
 
 ``'ullo, girlie.'' I said, grinning at her. 
 
 I'm sure I was a bit terrifying. Most of the people in this sector of the workforce were former Elfheimers, so they still followed the basic courtesies of their land. Ettiquete. Like that matters when you've got a hot lathe to attend to. 
 
 She whimpered a little, before her face dawned precisely who I was. It helped that each drone bore a small resemblance to my signature headpiece, that every street had a large billboard of myself glaring down at the viewer. That my name was praised each night on pain of flogging by every member of my land. 
 
 I'm **BARON VON TYRANT**, DAMMIT! 
 
 I'm sure her thoughts went all over the place. Elfheimers are rather pathetic creatures, prone to flights of fancy. Perhaps she thought I wanted her as a concubine. Perhaps she believed I would free her, that her plight had softened my heart. 
 
 As if I cared. 
 
 I unbound her chains, then laughed as the robot drones chased her out the door, firing energy blasts as she fled. 
 
 Oh, she'd live. Maybe even find her way to this Resistance I've heard oh so much about. 
 
 They'll enjoy the little present hidden within her. 
 
 A small explosive device, that releases a small biotoxin. Most of her ribcage had it: it's why she struggled to breathe: the small red box pressed against her heart. 
 
 All it takes, is one discharge of magic... just one... and BOOM. 
 
 As I cackled, I woke up. 
 
 -- - 
 
 The coffee shop was n't too busy. I'd woken up early, so I figured I'd get myself a hot chocolate I could pretend was a coffee to my caffeine-addicted colleagues. 
 
 The ginger barista seemed a bit spooked at my presence, although she kept looking at my gut and smirking. 
 
 *Oi. I'm not that fat, damn wench! *. 
 
 I pushed aside the delusions of grandeur and took my coffee. 
 
 Huh. 
 
 She put her number on the receipt. 
 
 And a message... 
 
 `` Cheers, Tyrant, for the biotoxin. Our bomb-makers will find that most useful.'' 
 
 I turned around as I read this, back at the smirking girl behind the counter. 
 
 She'teeheeheehee'd at me before heading through the staff door. 
 
 I froze. 
 
 *What. * 
 
 As a fellow café customer pushed past me to collect his drink from the other barista, I remained frozen. 
 
 *What. * 
 
 -- - 
 
 That night, the Elfheim resistance went full swing. 
 
 Led by a princess with a magic-tainted/healed chest wound. 
 
 *Hmm. A worthy adversary. VERY WELL. In recognition of this somehow being a thing that is possible... LAUNCH THE COFFEE* 
 
 Great siege weapons launched glass cylinders containing boiling coffee on their troops. 
 
 You'd be surprised how quickly a unicorn made of sugar and rainbows will melt when confronted with hot liquid in a glass container. 
 
 It... quite frankly, smelled delicious. Such is war. 
 
 

