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
Despite the moment, the light touch of her hand to his arm, it's her last words that set visible tension on his shoulders. Another innocent. And the name flashes through his mind as so many times before, his heart clenches in a numb way he's almost - almost - used to by now.
But no comment from him on that either. He just nods, eyes lowered from Natasha, and he says simply. "No. No, you're right."
no subject
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."
wrapping this up here, y/n?
"It's alright." He shakes his head, his tone definite. "Let's just... finish the sandwiches."
That works! Although now she's going to have to poke him again sometime soon to make up for it...