Bruce Banner (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hyperkinesia) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2014-05-18 11:49 am
hyperkinesia) wrote in entrancelogs2014-05-18 11:49 am
((OPEN)) Have you hugged your physicist today?
Who: Bruce Banner and YOU
Where: Library, kitchen, dining room, gardens, basement lab, etc. ANYWHERE.
When: From the 16th to the 19th, state your date!
Rating: I don't expect anything past PG
Summary: Bruce is seeking the comfort of simple physical contact. Arms brushing, hands holding, hugging, anything. It doesn't even matter if he knows you or if he's never seen you before. He craves for it so much he might not even notice he's doing it at first.
Note: I'm alright with both brackets and prose, pick your poison.
The Story:
[ It starts with nothing but a feeling, something itching at the far back of his mind, something that's entirely different from the kind of clawing and scratching he's normally used to. But he brushes it aside, he doesn't think much of it - not until he starts crossing paths with random people on the hallways and the gardens and finds himself reaching to touch strangers he's never even seen before.
Most times, he manages to draw back and rush away before actually doing anything. Other times he finds himself detouring just so he can brush his fingers against someone else's, or feel his arm bump lightly against theirs. But somehow it's only when he's alone that he starts to fully realize that something's happening. The mind is quick to make the association, though knowing that this might very well be one of these events doesn't really help him in stopping this craving for touch from happening.
So instead he starts seeking solitude. He hides in corners of the library, and he uses the kitchen and the dining room when there's no one else around. The rest of the time, he retreats to the lab and stays there, surrounded by what's as close to familiarity as he can get, and at least there if someone approaches him, it's people he's more comfortable with. Relatively speaking. ]
Where: Library, kitchen, dining room, gardens, basement lab, etc. ANYWHERE.
When: From the 16th to the 19th, state your date!
Rating: I don't expect anything past PG
Summary: Bruce is seeking the comfort of simple physical contact. Arms brushing, hands holding, hugging, anything. It doesn't even matter if he knows you or if he's never seen you before. He craves for it so much he might not even notice he's doing it at first.
Note: I'm alright with both brackets and prose, pick your poison.
The Story:
[ It starts with nothing but a feeling, something itching at the far back of his mind, something that's entirely different from the kind of clawing and scratching he's normally used to. But he brushes it aside, he doesn't think much of it - not until he starts crossing paths with random people on the hallways and the gardens and finds himself reaching to touch strangers he's never even seen before.
Most times, he manages to draw back and rush away before actually doing anything. Other times he finds himself detouring just so he can brush his fingers against someone else's, or feel his arm bump lightly against theirs. But somehow it's only when he's alone that he starts to fully realize that something's happening. The mind is quick to make the association, though knowing that this might very well be one of these events doesn't really help him in stopping this craving for touch from happening.
So instead he starts seeking solitude. He hides in corners of the library, and he uses the kitchen and the dining room when there's no one else around. The rest of the time, he retreats to the lab and stays there, surrounded by what's as close to familiarity as he can get, and at least there if someone approaches him, it's people he's more comfortable with. Relatively speaking. ]
no subject
It's distracting enough he doesn't even notice Bruce has put his hand over his own, and by then...Well. Better to feed this craving than anything else the mansion could drag out. He knows, his own nerves have been tweaked pretty badly, as well.]
And there's a lot of us here. I don't mean just...You know, us, but in general. There's more people here than I originally thought. Did you see the little nerdy guy, claiming to be an angel claiming this one? Said it was one of the Horsemen or whatever?
[That's what he means. This is relatively light, in the scheme of things. But he's heard there are demons around, too, and he can't say he's entirely keen on finding out what's in their heads.]
no subject
But for now he doesn't give it too much thought. Mostly he's just grateful that Tony's willing to satisfy this bothersome urge of his, almost invasive in its tactile nature, and he's glad that he doesn't make any comment on it either. ]
I saw the post. [ He frowns slightly, though mostly curious. ] An angel, really?
[ He shouldn't be so surprised. Considering there's at least an alien around, an elf, an immortal man, two cannibals, and at least a couple of demons he's been told about... Angels suddenly aren't that much of a stretch. ]
I guess it's... possible, crazy as it might sound. Famine, it could do something like this. Hopefully the actual Horseman isn't here. [ A pause. ] Assuming he really isn't here.
no subject
[Whether or not he actually believes it - truly believes it - is another story. Of course, a year ago he'd have said the same about Norse mythology, too, and look where that's led them.
But all in all...Things could be worse. They could be so much worse, and he's not entirely sure if they should be grateful or worried that they're getting off so easily for a first run.]
Either way, I get the feeling this is just the tip of what this place could have dug out of his head. An angel? I mean, come on, we could be looking at something straight out of the Old Testament. Not too keen on the idea of rivers of blood or bugs everywhere.
no subject
[ Because honestly - War, Conquest, Death? If he had to pick, Famine doesn't sound even half as ominous as the others. Even if this one could've taken a turn to something a lot scarier and far more gruesome.
Which isn't to say Bruce feels any more comfortable about all of this. The people he knows at least, that he's minimally alright with, he doesn't mind as much, but to find himself hugging and holding hands with strangers, it's too much. It's off-putting, it's tiresome, and it looks a little too desperate. ]
I've been looking around for older events, posts on the network. It seems this place takes turns digging into our heads. An angel today, a demon tomorrow. Might get to one of us eventually. [ A thoughtful pause as he presses his lips into a thin line. ] I've been thinking if these events aren't just a way for this whole place to renew itself so it keeps running smoothly.
no subject
He shifts on his feet, keeping his hand where it is on Bruce's shoulder and articulating with the other.]
So, pocket universes, right. This is what they do. All universes, really. So you've got your universe; doesn't matter what size it is, just. Wonderland is a universe. Well, universes have their brane, right. That'd be the borders keeping us in. There's nothing beyond those, or so we're led to believe.
But without any kind of energy transfer, nothing happens. It stays dormant. So what I've been thinking is that if this is a pocket universe, the brane of this one is keeping us from getting to the universe outside of it. For all we know, we're actually still where we should be. But the borders of this one is keeping us penned. And if that's the case, we're the bulk of this. We're the energy source. And if we're the energy source, these events are the vent that keeps things running. It's eating our memories like candy to keep itself alive.
watch as I bullshit my way through this
[ The conversation is distracting, at least, and Bruce relaxes more into it than he does the touch. Which by now he's sort of learned to ignore if the other person doesn't mention it either. ]
So what, basically we're the energy source. That would explain our abduction, if you think about it. Only way for the people living in this place to keep the place running, and they wouldn't want to sacrifice their own minds, obviously. [ He presses his lips into a thin line. ] I guess that answers the why, but still not the how.
/chinhands
[The how, of course, being the major part of that unknown.]
Maybe a better idea will be to get more info from the people that have been here longest. Take a survey, see if through...I don't know, their little stories there's a pattern.