tushanshu_logs | Event | Landfall

Event | Landfall | Dreaming

Characters: Any and every!
Date: August 10th - 31, 2013
Location: The realm of Dreaming as accessed via Sinbrilee
Situation: Dreaming is but one of the three realms and here characters are subject to their fanciful thoughts.
Warnings/Rating: Please place content warnings in subject headers!

Sinbrilee | Dreaming | Death

Life. Dreaming. Death. Three realms overlaid upon one another and yet each distinctly their own. They dwell in Life and do so live upon the back of the great turtle as those of Sinbrilee did upon the shell of his sister. However, there stand numerous arches of marble throughout the ruined city that are inlaid with runes beyond understanding. Those that live and breathe which step through those whose runes glow with faint, iridescent light tread instead into the realm of Dreaming.

Here, there exists no single defining characteristic beyond the visitor's imagination. The landscape sculpts to their individual thoughts, the events to their dreams. From a drab gray nothing to the most brilliant of displays, the senses perceive all that they wish to perceive for all that nothing here truly exists. This far from Tu Vishan, the ability to shape their surroundings is all they have, for Sinbrilee's Dreaming does not have the energy to sustain powers, only the bodies of those that dwell here.

Should two parties near, then the Mesh begins. Dreams, you see, not only can be shared, but they strive to be. These visions sculpted into reality reach out for one another and blend. They begin an exchange akin to a linking of the minds, within which one visitor can learn the other's deepest thoughts. Their limitation is but compatibility, for two minds that cannot flow upon the same current cannot hold the Mesh.

Happiness or loss, the landscape and events play out memories and fancies with a most convincing air. The mood rises and falls with the tide of the visitor's mind, detached as they are from the soothing influence of a great turtle's mind. Nothing here, however, is real; 'constructs' simply fade if taken through the archways and even the greatest scientific minds or tools will reveal nothing of its source. This is an ancient magic of an ancient realm, long practised in concealing itself from any prying.

Note: Due to the fluid and highly individual nature of Dreaming, no official subheaders will be provided in the comments of this post. Feel free to post and thread however you like, so long as the rules of Dreaming are adhered to.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Ripping them to shreds works very well against them. A bullet or two won't kill them outright, but being in pieces is a whole different story. They might live a little longer than other victims if he goes for things like limbs, but they die quite well when their head gets detached or something.

The Hulk and Bruce are familiar enough to her mind that she doesn't even blink when he shows up. They have a spot in her heart, in her mind, and they're welcome in this dream. His presence shifts her mind enough away from the memory that the man in the black coat sort of fades from existence, though the one with the gun keeps on shooting the vampires dead. He doesn't react to the Hulk, and he certainly doesn't fire at him, instead sticking close to the Archive in a protective way.

As for the Archive herself, she keeps her attention mostly focused on the cloud thing, clearly controlling it. The mordite smashes through vampire after vampire, leaving nothing but a sort of wrongness and death in its path.

At this rate they're going to kill the Reds pretty quickly. There's no way the Reds are good enough to stand a chance against one of them, let alone three. ]

[Ordinarily having another presence around, especially one with a gun, would be a major point of interest to the Hulk. Right now, he barely notices it; it seems an extension of the Archive, who's, just as he thought she would, taking out vampires with alacrity. It's that kind of strength that the Hulk respects, even if it's still inferior to his with its ephemeral and incorporeal nature as magic.

Before the Reds are all completely destroyed, a tank comes screaming into the scene, appearing out of the ether as if rising up a hill. It loudly grinds to a halt some distance away, and immediately takes aim at the Hulk, whose responding roar is nearly shattering. He tosses the mangled pieces of a vampire to the side, where it lands with a dull thud on another corpse, and takes an enormous, bounding leap toward the tank.

He recognizes it. He knows who this is. And as the Hulk crashes beside it, a swarm of blank faced, black geared troops file in from behind it, spreading out in formation.]

Open fire! Light that thing up!

[The tinny voice of a gruff commander fills the air, though where he is himself can't be seen. But everything starts firing on him, and some break off to attack the Archive and her companion as well, for now as an afterthought. The Hulk grunts and shudders back with the force of the higher caliber bullets, but otherwise ignores them, and starts reaching up to grab hold of the tank's main firing muzzle to bend it down with a squeal of metal.]

[ As soon as the military shows up, the Archive gets serious with the Reds, sending the mordite effortlessly pounding through all of them, zipping the little ball of deathly anti-matter around the field in a matter of seconds with a few flicks of her hand. Kincaid has stopped firing at them and instead gets out a wooden box, which he opens and places on the ground before her so she can carefully drop the mordite back inside. Even in a dream she's careful with that stuff, it's just bad news all around.

By the time she's finished with this, they start opening fire on the Hulk, and she whips around to see, a look of concern on her face. As she sees him waver under the fire, the concern drops for anger. Even if they're not hurting him terribly, they're hitting him. Her friend. The person who helped her back to her apartment, the person she works with, the person who gave her hugs when she was upset and offered to look after her. And that makes her mad.

Even if this was real (which it can't be, she knows it's not, just a dream) she wouldn't care about those people. They're drops in the ocean, nothing of consequence, as important to her as any single ant is.

The first order of business, of course, is to stop the bullets. It takes nothing more than an application of will and a gesture across the field for every single gun and weapon to jam. Modern technology fails spectacularly around magic, and the more modern the better the effect. Secondly she has to deal with the people coming toward her. She's not used to dealing with large groups of people advancing at once, but it's certainly nothing she can't deal with. Force will be the least messy, and so with a flick of her hand with them, she smashes them back. The effect is something similar to being hit by a semi going full speed down a highway, and nearly every bone in their bodies is smashed as they go flying, landing like rag dolls a far distance away.

Kincaid has been standing behind her, keeping an eye out for any trouble that might be coming her way, but not interfering. It's clear that she's the one in charge here and that he knows when to help and when to stay out of her way. Her loyal Hellhound. She turns to see how the Hulk is faring, knowing that he will do suitably fine at fighting his own battle, especially with the broken weapons, though it's very possible that some will intermittently work. ]

[Although Bruce tries not to overtly agree with the perception of people as ants, inconsequential and trivial to his existence, sometimes he does think that. Sometimes it butts up against his morals and comes out the victor. As the Hulk, there's even less debate; although not intrinsically cruel, Hulk has no hesitation whatsoever about enforcing what he needs to in order to protect himself and those around him. He doesn't need her help, but he doesn't mind it-- or the form it takes-- either.

He doesn't want to devote the time it would take to tear off the muzzle of the tank's main gun, so instead he hauls himself on top of it, the metal groaning and buckling under his weight. Hulk pries the lid off the hatch without a trace of effort, and reaches in to grab the soldiers inside and toss them up and out. One, two, then three, until it's empty inside, and he's roaring again as he leaps off, still holding onto the lid, and back into the fray.

The thick rounded shape of steel could make an effective shield, but Hulk doesn't use it that way; instead he starts battering people with it, sending them flying as well. Whether even all this combined is enough to take out all of the soldiers is debatable, given that they seem to keep respawning (or healing?) as fast as they're knocked down. In the Hulk's mind, this is an endless fight, one he will always win but never truly stop fighting.]

[ She spends only a little time killing the unending stream of soldiers, until she grows bored with it. To her they are finite, and it's annoying to have to rinse and repeat. There's a sort of pressure in the air, like the world is about to take a huge breath, and all the technology completely fails. She speaks with five thousand years of voices, ringing and clear in unison, the coldness that comes with the length of time this part of her has existed for. It doesn't care, it just sort of... is. ]

Enough.

[ And then the pressure is lifted, expanding out from her. There's a ringing sound, and a sort of translucent and shimmering bubble expands from her, out. It catches the soldiers as it hits them, and they're pushed outward, as if the shimmering glass of the bubble is impenetrable. However, it simply sweeps around the Hulk, leaving him on the inside as it pulls the soldiers away from him. Even the tank is swept away, much like a leaf in a wind, effortlessly carried away. The whole process takes no more than ten seconds, and by the end the field is domed by the shield with no soldiers or weapons in sight. In fact, even Kincaid is gone and only the two of them remain. This time she speaks in a voice that is just her own as she walks toward him. ]

That's better.

[It's empty and vast around them now, but the complete lack of stimulus is somehow soothing to the Hulk. The only presence here is one that isn't threatening. This isn't a logical thought-- the Archive is, as she's just demonstrated, more than capable of posing a threat to him. But she's a young girl who he recognizes, who's been kind to him before for absolutely no reason, and in the dream like this the barrier between himself and Banner is more blurred than ever.

Heaving deep breaths, he slowly feels the adrenaline start to fade as he looks around, making a thorough inspection that they're alone. Once he's sure that they are, Hulk thumps over to her, footsteps heavy.]

Shield Girl, [he rumbles out, staring down at her. It's easier to speak here, with Banner's consciousness so close and accessible.]

[ She watches him as he comes over, not worried at all in this dream despite their size difference and his strength. In this dream, unlike the others, she doesn't have the distortion of her memories as the Archive. Her mind, the one separate from the Archive (though the separation is hardly so distinct), is close enough to him that she pulls far enough away to present wholely her own self. The name makes her smile a bit and she nods her greeting, having to look a long way up to see him. ]

Hello, Mister Hulk. It's been a while, how are you doing?

[ The words hold an unusual warmth and interest in them, so different from the standard blankness and formality she normally presents. ]

[The finer points of socializing are, as always, lost on the Hulk, but even he can tell that this is outside the norm.

There's a moment's pause as he takes in the novelty of being asked how he's doing. She's literally the first person to have ever done so. He softens just slightly, glad to see her warmth. No one her age should be hurt.]

Hulk good. Want out more. [That's really his main complaint. He's too strong to be hurt, of course, but it gets boring stuck in Banner's head.]

[ That puts her at a slight conundrum because while she does enjoy interacting with the Hulk, she also likes Bruce, and she wouldn't presume to put one before the other. They're different things to her. The Hulk is a little like Kincaid, silent and strong and simply there, while Bruce is genuinely and frighteningly someone she cares about. They're like apples and oranges to her. ]

I'm glad you're well. It would be nice to see you more as well. [ She thinks back to the first (and last) time they met. ] Perhaps with less structural damage, however.

[That gets a loud, grumbling snort, like a complaint. It's a somewhat fearsome gesture on the Hulk, or it would be if he weren't surprisingly complacent at this moment, adrift in dreamscape as he is.]

Want to smash! Shield Girl good at smashing. [That's even a trace of approval.]

[ That trace of approval gets a smile from her. ]

Unfortunately you would end up smashing people's homes and businesses. They need those to live so it's bad if you smash them. And there's not a whole lot of room or geography on the turtle so you can't go anywhere else either.

[This is a lot of words to follow, but Hulk tries, and begrudgingly admits it's easier with him sharing Banner's mind more freely here.]

Hulk not stay trapped forever, [he growls loudly, angered by this answer and half-snarling in contempt. It's not directed at her, but rather at the world, and especially at Banner.]

[ That word, "trapped", sparks something in her mind. The Archive, the permanence of it, stretching on forever until she dies. Most days she doesn't mind being the Archive, it's as weightless to her as gravity, and there's nothing wrong with it. But occasionally she realizes that she won't ever be able to have people she cares about, won't be able to go on vacation with them, won't be able to be a person for them. If push came to shove she would have to turn her back on them and walk away, no matter what. Then the Archive feels like an anchor at sea when everyone around her are the waves, and it dredges up memories, some new and some old, so old, memories of insanity and loneliness stretching across centuries.

Hundreds of women stretch out behind her, translucent but distinct, like reflections in a mirror. The Archives of the past, reflected here as her mind reaches back to them. She gives a small sigh, of longing and loneliness, and it's with all of their voices in unison. Hers is the most distinct of them, but theirs ring in unison with hers. ]

Yes.

[ And then they fade, leaving only her. She gives him a smile, genuine happiness for all the sadness and envy she holds for his chance. Her mother resented her for the freedom she would have, and ensured it would never come to pass. In return, the Archive feels no resentment for all that she has envy, a lesson learned so dearly from her mother's actions.

This time her voice is only her own and it's happy again. ]

I'm glad. I do like talking to you, you're nice.

[There is a drawback to Hulk's situation, and it's that he's never been allowed to fully come into his own as his own entity. He's an extension of Banner, some repressed facet of him, or at least another side. His own cognition, personality-- even his own name-- has been denied him routinely, Banner the foremost culprit.

He gets out eventually, he never stays trapped forever, but the rest of the time, he is trapped. Stuck in a cage in Banner's mind, unaware of the world around them, time stretching out before him and leaving him only to rage.

It's no wonder when he finally gets out, all he wants to do is scream and throw things.]

Hulk not nice, [he snorts, a loud, gusty noise.] No point hitting Shield Girl. Why bother? [He refuses to admit he has anything like soft-heartedness in him.]

[ She doesn't have much experience with anger, maybe once or twice in her life. The problem with being so absolutely in control of her situation is that she can mold everything to suit her exactly. If she wants to miss traffic she simply understands the traffic patterns and knows when to travel. So the Archive doesn't understand anger except through memories, and emotions are weakened a bit when passed along. Even though she knows it's not that way, to some extent she feels as if anger is a switch that can be flipped on and off.

But he acknowledges her power, and she smiles broadly at it. He's strong and the fact that he respects it (to some extent at least) means a lot to her. Since this is her dream, there are even tiny little flowers, the kind for making daisy chains, popping up in the grass around the field. She is a fourteen year old girl at heart, and that happiness is beginning to invade the original memory. ]

I bet if you hit me as hard as you could I would slide a few inches. You're really strong. But that aside, you are nice. You helped me get back to my apartment and even got hurt doing so. You didn't need to do that, but you did.

Hulk strongest, [he corrects insistently, but is appeased by her acknowledgement of his strength, huffing out his satisfaction as he settles back into a crouch on his heels.

He's not sure how to answer the declaration that he's kind. Social interaction of any kind is still so new that he can count on one hand the number of times he's done it, and now two of them have been with her.

Hulk stares at her skeptically, the expression somewhat frightening on him, but of course he doesn't expect her to be frightened.] Always heal. Tiny girl not heal. [Wait. Maybe she does heal. His stare turns suspicious.] Does tiny girl heal?

[ That gets a shake of her head. ]

No, I am human and heal like humans do. If I am hit I will bruise, and if I am cut I will bleed. Which is why I do my best not to get hit and cut.

[ And does a damn good job of it too. ]

[That's satisfying, somehow, that she's not practically unkillable like the Hulk. He takes evident pleasure in being as indomitable as he is.]

Being hit not stop Hulk. Take hits for puny humans. [Both for Shield Girl and, in a flash of memory as he recalls being huddled over her form as the helicopter crashed around them, for Betty.]

And that's why you're nice. You're willing to protect us.

[ She gives a look around to see if there are any soldiers that have somehow gotten though, and satisfied that it's just them, plops down and pats the grass next to her, indicating for him to sit with her. The grass has grown a bit long, littered with little white flowers and is encroaching on the dirt portions of the baseball diamond. The Archive picks two of the flowers and begins tying them. ]

I've never made a flower chain before, but supposedly it's something that friends sit around and do together. I know how to make them though. I hope it's as easy as it seems.

[Hulk is having a hard time keeping still. He's getting antsy. Restless to smash more. Sitting placidly in one place is incredibly difficult for him without the stabilizing influence of Betty around, and even then he hadn't been all that calm.

He's positively disposed toward the Archive, but she doesn't actually need his protection, and although his understanding of this as a dream is hazy, he does know that he has a rare opportunity to roam around on his own.]

Hulk go, [he insists.] Give soppy Banner flowers.

[ She gives a sad sigh but doesn't stop him, instead putting down the begining attempt at her flower chain and picking a few to hold out to him before he goes. ]

I hope I get to see you soon. And not only when there's danger.

[ She can understand that he and Bruce operate in different capacities, even if she wishes he could be around more. ]

[He stares down at the flowers for a few moments, dumbfounded, before huffing and carefully reaching out to take them. He ends up holding his hand out, palm flat and fingers unfurled, to let her place them gently. Otherwise, he's certain he'd crush them.]

Hulk always come back, [he declares with obstinate pride, in an echo of earlier. It was true. Banner could never outrun him.] Tiny girl not worry.

[ She places them in his open hand, and since the flowers were small when she was holding them, they look minuscule in his hand and she gives a tiny laugh at that before turning her smile up to him. ]

In that case, I will see you next time.

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Event | Landfall | Dreaming

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