This has a tinge of LA Noire to it, which is why I'm including it at this juncture. Although I've not played LA Noire. Or know much about it. I'm assuming it's like playing a game of LA Confidential, which is what this dream reminds me of...as indeed I appear to mention. Quite an old one this, as I recall it:
'Walking around a sloping district of the city with Daniel and Liam, in and out of peculiar sandstone structures. It is like 1950s LA in terms of climate and washed out colour. Later, I appear to be working as some sort of informant for an organisation I wasn't aware I was a member of. Asda, still replete with people I once worked with (I visit with my Dad, remarking that nothing has changed in a year except the lighting), now runs a hotel, similar to the building my apartment was in in an earlier dream (where I murder an old aquaitance by pushing him over). I break in to investigate something that may or may not be happening. Someone is committing some sort of scam, which I have escaped from. Liam is less fortunate; on breaking in to the hotel I find him trapped in a small room writing pages of endless drivel. I am chased by a woman in white, who I believe to be my old section head at Boots. I hide behind a door to evade her. Later, I meet up with agents I work with, who put a yellow disc on my jacket and say it is a covert camera. I am to repeat my break in, this time recording the events that transpire.'
'Walking around a sloping district of the city with Daniel and Liam, in and out of peculiar sandstone structures. It is like 1950s LA in terms of climate and washed out colour. Later, I appear to be working as some sort of informant for an organisation I wasn't aware I was a member of. Asda, still replete with people I once worked with (I visit with my Dad, remarking that nothing has changed in a year except the lighting), now runs a hotel, similar to the building my apartment was in in an earlier dream (where I murder an old aquaitance by pushing him over). I break in to investigate something that may or may not be happening. Someone is committing some sort of scam, which I have escaped from. Liam is less fortunate; on breaking in to the hotel I find him trapped in a small room writing pages of endless drivel. I am chased by a woman in white, who I believe to be my old section head at Boots. I hide behind a door to evade her. Later, I meet up with agents I work with, who put a yellow disc on my jacket and say it is a covert camera. I am to repeat my break in, this time recording the events that transpire.'
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