ironwood: (Default)
ɪʀᴏɴᴡᴏᴏᴅ ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ ᴇsʜᴀɪ ([personal profile] ironwood) wrote in [community profile] tushanshu_logs2013-08-09 07:07 pm

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.
ihope: quieticons @ ij (10)

[personal profile] ihope 2013-09-04 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
For most people, there's this state of being that's not quite intimidation after meeting a man face-to-face after only having communicated through computers so far. Lex lacks that in-between of wonderment and disappointment. He stands tall without knowing on what ground he steps on, he's as calm outwardly as his odd partner seemed to be inside. When he's acknowledged, he takes a step closer, not one more.

The chill is still in the air, or in his mind. He's self-aware. He knows and has to control every movement of his, from the blink of his eyes to taking a breath. Everything is so dreadfully even. 'Krypton'. One name that rendered pathetic all of mankind's accomplishments thus far. No intelligent life out there-- like Hell.

"Krypton" -by God, it even rolls off the tongue like something exquisite- "as it was or as you remember it?" And he's not afraid of his question nor of the answer. It's more than he would have known otherwise had he never fatefully stumbled into this dimension.
lookedtothestars: (Looking head on.)

[personal profile] lookedtothestars 2013-09-07 07:34 pm (UTC)(link)
He moves, turning to pay full attention to the younger man when he asks that question. He's not ignoring his presence by only paying him partial attention, or giving Lex it immediately- dismissing the robot away with a single motion, first.

Earth's accomplishments may not have yet been equal to those of Krypton's, but neither were its failures.

"For it to be as it was, we would have to be there," Jor-El states. "My memory of it is true to its nature," all of this, it can only be derived from his mind, formed as it is, "But this will never be Krypton itself." It's no weakness to admit this; as close as this construct is to his home, it will never be it.

To think otherwise would be foolish.