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

[jirk]

"Haven't you learned yet that I make anything look good?" It's their default. Joking to keep the horrors at bay, and Jim's nothing if not damned good at it. But his heart's not in it now.

He flexes his hand. The ring doesn't fit right, but this is Kyle's mind. He'll wear it here. "You don't have to lecture me about pain," he says, changing back to the subject at hand. "I get it. I know what it's like and I know what it does to a guy." He hasn't seen as much of it as Kyle has, but pain's relative to the life you've lived. It's not a pissing contest.

At the new arrival, Jim shifts and steps away from the wall, half in front of Kyle. "Who is that?"

[imaginate]

It's not a lecture for you, he wants to say. I need to pull myself back, sometimes.

He lets it go, focusing on what's in front of him.

'Thinks he knows the truth of the universe.' Kyle glances back at him. 'More evil in the world than good, and that knowledge drove him insane. Truth is, there's only evil when good men do nothing.'

A soft sigh. 'And you know, one Green Lantern for the whole universe... even with the ring, can't really do that much at all.'

[jirk]

The truth of the universe. Jim's still not sure what that is. He read somewhere a long time ago that there's no such thing as good or evil men, only good or evil actions, and that people were predisposed to do both. It was choice that kept them walking down whatever fine line they'd chosen.

(So which was Khan?)

"Hey. Don't give me that. I know you, I know you did everything you could for as many people as you could. That's all anyone gets to ask of us."

[imaginate]

And it's never enough.

Kyle lets that go, too. Not here. Not with Jim.

'I don't like it here,' he says. 'Can we go?'

[jirk]

He's back in captain mode. All business, ignoring the rest. His expression is tight when he speaks, "Out of here or-- some other memory?"

[imaginate]

The question gives him pause.

'Both, I suppose,' he answers. 'There's very little light left.'

A pause.

'I won't stop you if you want to see more, but I can't go there with you.'

[jirk]

The suggestion makes him fold his arms over his chest. It's a defensive posture and he knows it, can't help it. Some captain. After a moment he licks his lips and then purses them.

"I want control of --" he untangles one hand so he can wave around at the dreamscape. "-- This. Think you can shift it over?"

[imaginate]

His instinctive answer is a sharp, vehement no and the entire landscape shudders violently, moving to a completely dark room. The Anti-Life Equation is there, atop a table, marked as such, glowing ominously white.

Kyle glances at it, and then back at Jim. 'What do you want to do?' he asks, hesitant, shoulders bunched up, hands in his pockets. A little fearful.

[jirk]

He thinks about telling him, but the room they're in now only strengthens his desire not to. He can barely see his own hand in front of his face, and something in his will sharpens. The blue glow of his ring cracks the darkness just enough .

"Kyle." His voice echoes in this room, and that bothers him. This whole place bothers him, but not, he thinks, as much as it should. "Trust me."

[imaginate]

He glances at the other source of light in the room (which isn't really light at all), and then he sighs, heavily.

'I do, but this isn't the right time.'

There was too much tied up in just handing over control of his own mind. Not after what he'd been through. Not after Parallax.

[jirk]

He knows - has always known - that there's more to Kyle than the fool he pretends to be and tries to be. He's sharp and dangerous beneath that shining smile and sure, he's a knight, but Jim has to wonder how many people know how tarnished he is beneath the armour he wears.

He's not sure if this is a door he gets to push on, so he falls silent and speculative, attention flickering back to the-- thing that dominates the centre of the room. It feels cold and wrong, for something in Kyle's mind, and Jim frowns at it reflexively, looks down at the ring on his hand. And then he nods. He's patient when he has to be.

Besides, he doesn't necessarily need control. He can still show him what he wants to without it. It won't be quite the same, but he can use the ring. It'll just take more focus.

(Kyle brought the Enterprise into colour for him, he can manage one sunrise)

So he focuses on the ring, concentrates. A hazy little panel of colour comes into creation, cutting through the darkness in the room. It's a view of the mountains over some planet or other he's been to, there's a blue sun and three moons in the sky. A 'once in a lifetime event', the locals called it. And it was beautiful. Jim could have stood there forever watching the way the colour crept across the landscape dragging warmth and light across every crack and crevasse in the mountain range.

Hard to duplicate that with a ring, from a memory, but it's there. Jim grins a bit, and gestures to it. "There, see? That's what I wanted to do. You can't see it but there's, uh, a waterfall-- off to the right over there. Also the trip where I got bit by a herbivore."

[imaginate]

Getting Jim to compromise on certain things has been an uphill battle. He's not a man used to no from someone - he doesn't believe in locked doors, he'd break down all the ones he encountered simply because he could. Kyle knows the feeling - he himself had to claw his way up to earn even the slightest bit of respect and it needed a certain ruthlessness.

One he possessed, but hid. One Jim shared, and Jim used, disguising a sword as a candy cane.

He breathes a soft sigh of relief, not even knowing he was that tense, when Jim redirects his focus to creating a construct. Sure, it's not the same thing, but Kyle can appreciate the gesture. He wanders closer to the window, watches the view take form - how elegantly, because Jim's an artist in his own right - and he nods, satisfied.

He opens his mouth to say Thank you, and then shuts it, and simply smiles.

[jirk]

The construct flickers and fades. It's harder to maintain it in Kyle's dreamscape, and it's served its purpose well enough. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at the anti-life equation. "Now do you mind telling me what the creepy thing in the corner is?"

[imaginate]

He lifts a hand to where the window was, his mother's voice echoing in his mind, where Jim can't hear. May you never forget what is worth remembering, or remember what is best forgotten.

He counts the breaths. Three. Seven. Ten. Fifteen.

'The Anti-Life Equation,' he says, voice measured. 'For total control over the mind of a sentient being. So called because if someone has that kind of power over you... you're not really alive.'

He turns, and leans against the wall. 'Technically speaking it's not actually there in its entirety - that's just a memory.'

[jirk]

He hears the rest of it, too. That someone's used it on Kyle at some point in his life. He's not even surprised, at this point. There's almost nothing about the enormity of the suffering Kyle's been through that even could surprise him at this point. It just makes him equal parts angry and sorrowful. But anger is useless here, and it won't help. When you can hide it from me, then you can see.

So he blanks out the anger. He can use it later. Instead, he wraps an arm around Kyle. Comfort, compassion. They've both done enough vengeance. Maybe there's nothing wrong with harps once in a while.

[imaginate]

There's very little light left, but it was still there, will and hope and compassion, fighting against the weight of the despair and helplessness that plagued him. He wraps his arms around Jim, and the landscape around them fades into a field of poppies.

There's very little he has left to be angry or sad about, when it comes to himself. He's aware it was wrong, and unfair, and sometimes he screams and rebels against it, but for the most part, there's only acceptance. Pain is just pain, it'll exist. He'll be asked to make sacrifices, time and time again, and one day it'll be the ultimate one.

But, seeing Jim like this cuts in a way Kyle didn't expect it to. He feels responsible.

'Hey,' he says, trying to play, 'good things, now?'

[jirk]

"There's been extensive talk of etchings..." he says lightly, and trails off with a smile. He's not being serious. It's just... play.

[imaginate]

A pair of museum doors appears. 'Gardner donated my entire body of work to the Coast City Art Museum.' Kyle laughs. 'I didn't even know I had an exhibit until I got the letter. Jackass.'

He gestures to it. 'Want to see?'

[jirk]

"You have to ask?" Jim tugs him to the doors, and doesn't look back at the white life of the Equation.