Given that placid dreamers are entirely incoherent, and that they make up the largest portion of the populous by far, it takes little effort to deduce the likelihood that someone in your situation was elevated directly from placid dreamer to the status of Phantasmagorian.
Your cluelessness is a dead giveaway. The real question, however, is the current status of your physical form. Becoming a Phantasmagorian, in my own opinion, seems to be a last resort coping mechanism to stave off death.
If one is grasping at the last threads of life, they easily become desperate and ruthless. Amazing feats can, and have been, accomplished as a means for survival. This is common knowledge. The root of that desperation, however, is the true rebus in these situations and varies from case to case.
It’s not such a huge mystery. Wouldn’t it just be death, a coma, or something like that?
I have already covered this, but seeing as how reiteration has been a growing trend in what few exchanges we have taken part in, I will take the liberty to remind this tenné cur that, yes, those are the typical causes.
So which is it?
I don’t know, you tell me.
How the hell am I supposed to know?
The same way anyone knows any fact about themselves.
Try using your mind for once.
Let’s say, for instance, I wanted to think back to how I came to posses this fine Egyptian cotton dress shirt. I would recall a warm memory of receiving it as a gift.
Or, here is a recollection I know you will reciprocate, the time when I schlepped your somnolent physique halfway across all of creation to be thanked with numerous attractive lesions and a chic short-sleeve shirt. How funny is that?
Oh, I’m practically in stitches!
Those were the times, were they not?
Oh, I should fetch my scrapbook so we can put a reminder for when we are on in the years.
Right, way in the future when you stop being a sarcastic ass. That’s an idea. Hey, let’s make a time capsule.
Yes, we could open it and look back to the time I busted both of your eyes and reprimanded you for being a hypocritical whelp. What a riot! Good times were had.
Good times, good times. Remember how pissed-the-fuck-off I got when I had to expend even more effort to fix Jäszie-boy back up a second time? Oh man, you were in stitches arright, let me tell you.
... I digress.
The case in point is, for whichever reason, you are unable to revive in the waking coil. You will need to recall how it is that you came to be in this situation, but that is for you and you alone to accomplish. Mental wounds, as with any, can be mounded over with scar tissue. However, unlike physical kinds, mental scarring can be perpetrated by anyone, but only by the victim may they truly be healed.
You’re on your own, kid. In the meantime, Silv here’s gonna do good by you, make sure life here is as comfortable as possible. You gotta work for your keep, but that’s no biggie. There’s loads to do, and Silv’s a pro. Best there is. He’ll show you the ropes.
I will do no such thing.
Yep. You will.
If anything, this troublemaker should tend to me. You’re horrible at medi-mental procedures. I won’t be able to write for weeks, maybe even months, if at all!
How about you have the kid help out in the library?
How is your penmanship, child?
Um. Well, I guess.... maybe that....
.....what is "penmanship"?
This whole ordeal is going to be the death of me.
How well you can write, you imbecile.
Well maybe I should do something else.
Let’s just do something else.
How about being a dream guide? He did well bringing me here.
Oh, right. The keys and doors and glowing creepy placid people.
Sure, let’s do that.
So be it. Keep the key ring I "gave" to you. There’s plenty on there aside from this kid’s. If you run out, we’ll get you some more at the front desk.
So I guess we’re doing this now?
Sure. You seem to have a decent handle on the situation. Unless there’s anything else I should elaborate on.
You seem to enjoy that quite a bit since you come back for more time and time again.
I’ll learn as I go. You’re a complete windbag.
...Are you coming with?
Yes, he is.
Apparently I am.