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

[backwordscompatible]

[The cape felt heavy against her petite shoulders, even though it was only a fraction of the material's weight. Heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was warm, too. The kind of warmth that her father always radiated whenever he hugged her. Giovanni may have been a strict, stern man at times, but he had never once denied his beloved daughter a hug.]

[There were no dangers to be seen just yet. Nobody so much as glanced their way, though the sight may have drawn several stares in the real world. A small child, seemingly abandoned, and Batman himself caring for her. Surrounded by a sea of faceless shadows, in that moment, it was just the two of them.]

[She held to his fingers tightly, as if afraid he would disappear on her, too, looking more up at him than watching where she was going.]

Do you have any children?

[He sounded like somebody who had children, the way he talked about parents.]

[cowled]

[There's an obstruction in his throat, he has to close his eyes briefly and tightly to will it away.]

Yes, I do. Five. Four sons, and a daughter. I-- care for them all, a great deal.

[backwordscompatible]

[The thing about a child's mind is that they tended to pick up on such things. She might not have understood what it meant, but the fact that he closed his eyes...the look on his face...she knew it meant something. He looked...almost sad.]

[That didn't seem right. Having children should make him happy, right?]

I bet you're a great Daddy. Just like my Daddy.

[cowled]

[He turns his face away. The words aren't meant to wound, but they do. He's been shot, stabbed, broken, beaten and killed more than once, but this one runs deeper than all of that. It takes him a moment to remember how to breathe.]

I hope my children think so.

[Then he turns to her, and crouches down.]

Would you rather I carry you?

[backwordscompatible]

[She looks nervous when he turns away. Did she say something wrong again?]

I can tell them for you, if you want, Mr. Batman.

[She meant it, too. He was helping her. Being so kind and gentle and basically exactly what she needed coming to her rescue. When he bends down, and she gets a chance to better look him in the eye, a hand still pulls at her lower lip. Biting her thumbnail out of habit. But she still nodded at the question.]

My legs are tired. [Shyly, she pulls her hands away from her mouth and reaches them both towards him.] Up, please.

[cowled]

[He picks her up without comment, pulling her against his chest with one hand. Holding her is effortless, she weighs less than the combined mass of his uniform, and he ensures that she's partially covered by his cape, the edge of which he's holding between his ring and middle finger to bring it across her back.

To the first part, he says nothing. His children know how he feels. Despite everything, they do. He's given them that much.]

[backwordscompatible]

[She tried to wrap her arms around him, but his chest was so large, combined with the cape and everything, that she made it only partially around before she ran out of arm. Still, he held to her so securely that she was in no danger of slipping from a lack of grip. Her head pressed against his chest for a moment. Closing her eyes. Enjoying the feeling of being embraced.]

[Then she opened her eyes and peered up at him.]

Thank you for saving me.

[Manners remembered, she went back to using his broad chest as a makeshift pillow.]

[cowled]

[He says nothing further. Merely holds her close, and walks through the endless hallways of her dreams. He knows they won't find her father. If Giovanni were here, even in her mind, he'd have found them by now. There's a brief, sharp sense of grief at the back of his mind for the man he once called mentor, but he ignores it.

It isn't until Zatanna's fallen asleep that he finds the corridor that will lead them out of the dream, and he walks through it without preamble. He's still carrying her in the real world, albeit as a teenager, and so Bruce sets her gently against a wall, hidden and out of the way for anyone who might happen past, and leaves his cape across her as a blanket before he leaves.]