Ending fragment. Guy like a cross between The Punisher and Star Lord. I was his friend. He was having some struggles, and his car would not start. I looked at is, spotless under the hood, cavernous even, and all simple. There was not enough under the hood to go wrong. It was just a matter of running way too rich, so it would not even start. Clouds of half-burnt fuel would spurt out of the intake, sputter, lop, die.
He wandered off, comfused and conflicted, while I troubleshot it. There was a small, compact, spark control computer as part of the distributor. I figured that had failed, but maybe if we opened up the throttle, it would at least stay running. There was not a usual air filter, rather a yellow box, with a key on it. Again, spotless, shiny. Far too small to filter that much airflow, it must be an EM field generator that actively cleans the air.
I went to find him to get the key, and he’s wandered out back, hood pulled up. I followed, and he’d gone to track someone down. Through some alleyways, etc I followed. The dream is faded as to whether he kicked some ass, or could not find them. But, I followed him to the back gate, put my gand on his shoulder, and someone else spun around.
She was a shapeshifter. She had been drawn to our place. Others came, a green woman, a woman who’s skin looked like a concert hall inside out. She traveled by playing a violin. The feeling and nuancel directed her vehicle. Ther were many others, but I walked past as they mingled, up to the small shop that was my friend’s home.
“It’s an honourable intent lockout,” I said. He had been conflicted, and had decided to seek revenge. The car could not support that.
He was frustrated, almost indignant, but he knew it made sense. He felt hopeless about it.
“I’m your sidekick. I’m here to help you through this.” He was my friend, and it would take time. The others who came would help. We were not looking for trouble. We just wan to help when situations arise.