Event | Landfall | Dreaming

[ironwood]

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.

Comments

[imaginate]

If it hadn't been for you, there wouldn't be an Earth at all.

[He looks at her, gaze steady.]

I've felt planets die, Shayera, I know firsthand what you saved us all from.

[wingedwarrior]

All I did was tell the League what the Thanagarians were really planning. [The scene fades again, showing the Batcave and the League in civilian garb as they gesture for her to leave. It's only there for a few seconds, and Shayera forces it back to a view of space from the Watchtower. Keep it together, girl.] They saved the world.

[imaginate]

[He shifts the scene into her fighting Hro, in the control chamber. He only caught a glimpse of it beforehand but his will is just as strong, and there haven't been any psychic defences yet. Maybe he can make a tweak, maybe without her mind kicking him out.]

[He points to it, as if to say So there.]

[wingedwarrior]

[Needless to say, she's a little pissed he's messing around with her memories like that. She shoots him a brief glare, before panning out the scene to show more. "More" being John beaten, bruised, bloodied, and with a broken arm.] I know you're trying to show me I'm a hero, Kyle. But I'm not the kind of hero they are. I fought back. That's all I did.

[imaginate]

[He gets up, and takes her hand. Flicks his wrist, and a door appears. To his mind: it's chained shut and has the bloodied handprints of small children on it. Walking towards it, he gives it a few kicks before it swings open, crashing to the ground with a thunderous sound.]

[Beyond it, she can glimpse chaos. Limbs, a red sky, and the smell of burning flesh and gunpowder. Screams drift through it, mostly women. He looks at her, expectantly.]

[wingedwarrior]

[She's a mix of confused and taken aback when he drags her off to his mind. Once inside, she looks around with an expression just short of horror. It's like a battlefield, one she's seen many, many times with the Gordanians. Slaughter. Torture. Innocents killed. It makes her sick to her stomach to think about it.] One of your wars.

[She grips his hand tight as she takes in the scene before her, the scents, the sounds. He's showing her this for a reason, and she looks back at him. There is no hatred in her face, no judgement, no pity. Just a serious look into his eyes, waiting for him to explain. All she does it swallow and wait.]

[imaginate]

Yes and no.

[He points to a figure, walking away from the battlefield, which then takes to the sky, doing nothing for those still suffering on the ground.]

You fought. I ran away.

[wingedwarrior]

[Everyone has a reason to do something. Shyera is shocked at the least as she watches the figure take off, then turns back to him.] Why?

[She's not blaming him, nor is she accusing him. She just wants to know.]

[imaginate]

[He looks at the ground. The debris shifts beneath his feet. He moves the landscape to a room, small guest quarters, dark blue in colour. A green woman is standing on one side. We can't just leave!, she's shouting, at a Kyle who looks much younger than he is. We have to help!.]

[The Kyle in the memory looks straight at Shayera.]

If we stay, who do we help? This is a holy war. Do I fight? Do I protect? I can't make myself a part of this.

[Then, quietly-]

There's nothing to be done.

[wingedwarrior]

[Shayera doesn't know what to say. But not in a bad sense. She's not angry or disappointed in Kyle, god like she could ever be. But this? This is a lot of things, a lot of complicated things. She's got no stance on holy wars, being an atheist herself. Why do you go so far for your faith?

Shayera's kept her hand in his this whole time, and she pulls him into a huge with her free hand. She ran away from the Justice League, from her problems, he ran away from his. She won't, can't judge.] Like I said. Choosing sides is hard. [You can't save everyone.]

[imaginate]

[He relents, and the land around them fades back to the battlefield, filled with the howls of the grieving, and the dying, and that too, melts away so that they're in the Watchtower - the one he knows, on the Moon.]

Let's go.

[wingedwarrior]

[She nods, breaking the hug. One last look at the starry sky, for her own memories to hold, cherish. She misses it more than anything.] I don't blame you, either.

[If he could try and lift her spirits, she would do the same for him.]