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Master of Dreams

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Created on 2012-11-01 04:47:25 (#1788689), last updated 2016-10-16 (49 weeks ago)

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Birthdate:Aug 15
Location:United States of America
This is an rp account for an alternate universe Freddy Krueger. Both muse and mun are over eighteen. No copyright infringement is intended. The mun is not connected with Wes Craven, Robert Englund, or New Line Cinema.

This is Freddy as he would be, if he never went insane or was not evil. This Freddy was raised in a loving environment by his mother, Amanda Krueger, who left being a nun in order to raise her child.


Amanda Krueger was a nun who was brutally raped by a hundred men in the insane asylum where she worked. When she discovered she was pregnant, she asked and was allowed to be released from her vows, so she could raise her child. She took a job as a receptionist at a hospital and devoted herself to caring for her son.

Freddy Krueger was born in June, 1949. He was raised in Springwood, Ohio. The boy was a bit of a loner and outcast, due to the circumstances of his birth, but Amanda was always gentle and loving to him. He grew up in a stable environment and became a mostly ordinary man. Mostly.

Freddy graduated from Springwood High School. He studied small business at the local university and opened a hardware/furniture store. He sold hardware and some manufactured furniture, in addition to building and selling custom, wood furniture by hand. By the time he was in his late twenties, he had a successful shop, a home, and a reasonably active social life. No one looking at him and his life would see anything unusual.


Freddy is an intelligent, creative person, but he tends to be emotionally withdrawn. Despite this, he is very warm and giving to his close friends and family. Occasionally, he can even be kind to strangers. However, Freddy also has a rather vicious temper, that tends to explode suddenly, though it passes rather quickly, as well. Even with people he likes, Freddy can be gruff and a bit abrupt.

Freddy was taught from an early age to be helpful to people and it's a lesson that's stuck. If he can, he'll go out of his way to help someone who asks. Freddy believes in God, having been raised Catholic by his mother. This has also given him a strong set of morals and ethics. He has a deep respect for good priests, nuns, and their calling. This feeds into his willingness to help others. However, he has little patience with religion--the legalism, back-biting, and self righteousness that can come with it.

In his manner, Freddy is a bit coarse. He's sarcastic, witty, and can be rather impatient. He also has a strong flair for the dramatic. Freddy's sense of humor is risque and often badly timed. Freddy often gives the impression, particularly to those who don't know him, of being very laid back. Partly due to the bullying he endured as a child, though, Freddy is very aware of his surroundings and the people around him. He is actually very wary of others and their motives.

Freddy likes people better as individuals, than he does as a group. He doesn't look down on people, exactly, but he knows how flawed they can be. He's a good judge of character, even on short acquaintance. Freddy tries not to judge others, but he doesn't hesitate to tell people what he thinks and to point out truths they might not want to hear. Freddy has little patience with the more sordid aspects of humanity.

Freddy is strongly motivated by the circumstances of his birth. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he never really forgets that his father was criminally insane...and raped his mother. Freddy proudly admits to being a mama's boy. He is very protective of Amanda...and anyone, male or female, who reminds him of her. He's determined to be his mother's son, not his father's.


Freddy is intelligent, with a quick wit and cunning mind. He can be charming, when he wants to be, though that is rare. He's good at seeing through people, discovering what motivates them and what makes them afraid.

Freddy has one very special ability. Freddy can control dreams, his and other people's, and even make them real. This gift manifested in his early childhood, before he could even talk in complete sentences and has only grown stronger, as he got older. Freddy has never had a nightmare that lasted more than a minute. He learned while very young how to chase away dream monsters, protecting not only his own dreams, but those of his mother.

In the Dream World, Freddy's reign is almost absolute. There is very little he can't do there. Anything he can hold onto in a dream, he can bring back with him to the waking world. He can also heal himself there of injuries he receives while awake.

In an emergency, Freddy can pull himself and others physically into the Dream World, leaving the waking world entirely. However, this creates a weakness, too.

Freddy can fall asleep at will, regardless of circumstances.


Freddy's blunt, sarcastic nature makes it difficult for him to make friends. His arrogance doesn't help, either.

While Freddy is almost god-like in the Dream World, in the waking world he is very much an ordinary man, with ordinary weaknesses.

When he is asleep, Freddy pulls himself so far into the Dream World that he is not very aware of his actual body. This leaves him vulnerable to night attacks.

When Freddy enters the Dream World physically, rather than through sleep, he can not get back to the waking world on his own. Someone must fall asleep, dream, and have hold of him, when they wake up. He will then appear wherever they are sleeping.

Physical appearance:

Freddy is a man of medium height, with curly, sandy blonde hair, kept short. He has an interesting face, with a somewhat prominent nose and bright blue eyes. He's not classically handsome, but there is a certain appeal to him. He tends to slouch, just a bit, standing with his hips cocked to one side.

He has a tendency to talk with his hands.

Freddy dresses generally in khaki or brown slacks and a sweater or t-shirt. The shirts and sweaters are always solid, frequently green, sometimes red, but never both.

Writing Sample:

Freddy lounged in an overstuffed chair, watching the clouds float by overhead. Idly, he whirled the clouds around, as if they were leaves in a pond. Watching the clouds fall into patterns and take shapes, he gave a contented chuckle. Freddy was rarely as relaxed awake, as he was when asleep, safe in the dreams he controlled. Here, he didn't have to have a roof on his house or keep his furniture indoors at all. Freddy savored the freedom sleep gave him.

A bell rang, the sound ringing sweet, but sad, through the dream. Freddy frowned. He kept track of several aspects of his dream world and there were various alarms and systems in place, to let him know when something happened. This bell was the only one Freddy hated. The bell only tolled under one condition.

Amanda Krueger, Freddy's mother, was asleep and caught in a nightmare.

Freddy stood and willed himself into his mother's nightmare. He was utterly unsurprised to find himself in the insane asylum, where he had been conceived. A hundred deranged men, ragged, filthy, and violent, swirled around his mother in a chaotic mess, snarling, their hands out to grab, though none actually touched her. Amanda stood, wearing a nun's white habit. She stared at the mass of mentally disturbed criminals and wept, her shoulder's shaking from the force of her sobs.

Freddy stared down at his mother from the top of the flight of stairs and willed the dream images of the men away, leaving him and Amanda alone in the image of the asylum.

"Mom?" he called, walking down the flight of steps. "What brought this on? You haven't dreamed about this in a long time."

"Oh, uh," Amanda hedged, taking a deep breath and wiping the tears from her face. "I was just thinking lately."

"Thinking about what?" Freddy pressed, starting to make the asylum fade into the more comforting lines of her living room, in the house where he had grown up.

"No!" Amanda interrupted, a bit sharply, before pleading gently. "Don't change it. I--let's just sit on the stairs."

She suited word to action, walking over and sitting on the steps, staring up as she waited for her son to reach her. Freddy gave a harsh sigh, speeding up a bit. Reaching her, he sat down and draped an arm across her shoulders.

"Why the hell do you wanna talk in this place, huh? Why here? You shouldn't dwell on this hole."

"And you shouldn't ignore it, Freddy," Amanda scolded gently. "You began here. This place brought you to me."

Freddy grimaced.

"Dwelling on it isn't gonna do either of us any favors."

"Freddy, don't you of those men was your father. You've never had anyone to send a Father's Day card to or to play ball with you."

"Hey, I'm perfectly okay with that," Freddy told her, smiling and shaking his head. "I'm your son. The only problem I ever had with not having a father is people not shutting up about it."

"You never wonder? You don't have questions about him?"

"I don't give a shit about him," Freddy told her bluntly, pulling away to lean back against the stairs. "He's nothing to me, but someone who once hurt my mother."

"Watch your language," Amanda sighed. "He wasn't a monster. Whoever he was...they were all just so lonely and lost...mistreated. You saw. They weren't being helped, just caged. People in prison are treated better and these were men suffering from illness."

"Yeah, I saw. You don't want me to hate him. Okay, I won't," Freddy promised, touching his chest. "Doesn't mean I hafta be interested in him."

"So stubborn," Amanda said, smiling ruefully, reaching out to touch Freddy's cheek. "It's going to be Father's Day soon."

"Mmhmmm. And, per usual, I will ignore the day, sending no cards and giving no thoughts whatsoever to the poor, lonely sicko who caused me."

Freddy waved his hand and the asylum disappeared. Amanda found herself kneeling on a picnic blanket, in the middle of a grassy field, full of wildflowers. Amanda tried to make her expression stern, staring hard at Freddy, who grinned, shrugging.

"You can pester me just as well here as there," he assured her.

"No, no, I'm done," Amanda told him, smiling and relaxing. "I can tell, when your mind is made up."

"Subtle isn't my style," Freddy boasted, pouring her some lemonade. "So. No more nightmares, right?"

"I'm sure you'll see to that," Amanda said, amused.

Freddy just smirked, making his hat appear and adjusting it on his head. He had no clue why he had the ability to manipulate dreams, but he didn't question it. The dreams were his. No nightmares allowed.
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