This one is a long one, and difficult to put together chronologically. Basically I was both watching and living inside a Tintin movie. Oddly Tintin wasn’t much of a character. I was in a group of four – there was a young boy, me (a teenager), and two adults. We were on a mission and were also on the run. We had been enslaved or imprisoned by some sort of government or organization.
I remember escaping enslavement and impersonating staff within the organization. I did a variety of jobs, including waitstaff and mining. As a miner I was thought of as ‘the new guy’ and so was shown how to do different things, making the facade easier.
As a waiter/butler, I attended an event for officials and their families within this organization. It was in a large mansion or castle. It had a very church function type feeling to it, a sense of shared belief. This was helped by the fact that they were obviously members of a cult. Robed figures presided over an event that involved all in attendance to rock and chant, make confessions and as questions of the robed figures.
I and the other staff, presumably part of this cult, rocked along with everyone else. In the religious ceremony we were equals, despite their being clearly a different class than us.
At some point during this ceremony, a child sitting next to me suggested that I stop rocking and participating. He said that the whole thing would be overwith faster if I didn’t do the whole rocking thing. I agreed with him. This kid saw through the nonsense of the cult.
Then there was a micro nation-inside a concrete building that was being constantly assaulted by aerial bombardment by its enemy, possibly orbital bombardment. These shells that descended at basically a perfect 90 degree angle were pushed off trajectory by a perfectly timed shot from an allied nation’s super cannon thousands of miles away. The whole thing was pretty impressive, but it made me worry about its self sufficiency. For some reason I momentarily thought that this micro-nation was South Africa, and for some reason thought “Should this country really still continue to exist?”. I’m not sure what that’s all about.
The other escapees and I eventually hijacked a bus or van. We did this by either killing or disabling the crew that surrounded the vehicle and made our way to freedom. It’s possible that this occurred during our escape from enslavement, or our escape from the country altogether after our time undercover. Not sure.
The van, a rather square-ish thing, drove into the back yard of the house and over the garden – and began being lowered by a secret elevator into a massive underground base of operations. So I guess we were operatives for this organization sent to infiltrate the enemy? Anyway, while in this base I remember making out with girl in closet. Sweet!