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)
thisavrou_log2016-04-02 03:44 pm
hyperkinesia) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-04-02 03:44 pm
Entry tags:
( open ) it's been so long since I've been gone
Who: Bruce Banner and anyone
When: April 1st to 3rd, give or take
Where: All around the Moira
What: Bruce comes back after a 3-day nap on a cryo unit, but with over a year worth of memories. From his perspective, it's been a good while since he's been on the Moira.
Warnings: Nudity, an old man accidentally flashing a minor. (Whoops.) Also NSFW for sex in one thread.
( a note: I'm good with both brackets and prose, so just pick whichever you prefer and I'll match! )
He wakes up with a startle, but it doesn't show. He's just so used to controlling every aspect of himself that when the unit brings him back from his stasis with a jolt, he barely moves. His eyes open, there's a soft silent gasp, but he lies there for a while, letting the cold envelop him little by little, and the memories of his surroundings slowly trickle into his mind.
It takes him a while. It's been over a year since he's been here, and he didn't even remember any of his time here for all the while that he was back in his world. Not even a dream, a ghost of a recollection, just... a complete blank. As if his life had never really stopped, as if he'd never truly been kidnapped into a spaceship on an alternate universe to begin with.
He knew that it was highly likely this is how it would happen when someone goes back home, of course, but one thing is to know or theorize what happens, another thing entirely is to experience it firsthand.
Eventually, he climbs out of the unit, but he doesn't go too far. Still clinging to the edge, cold feet touch the hard metallic floor, his knees nearly giving in under the weight of his own body, and when he glances down, he realizes he's completely naked. Shivering from the cold, little droplets hanging from the tips of his short hair, he looks around, trying to spot some clothes or even just a towel to wrap himself up in.
After the initial shock of waking up, and now wearing a pair of pants and shoes, he's slipped on a hospital gown from the medbay and stepped outside. The objective here is to find his way to his room as soon as possible, to try and figure out what's going on right now, how long he's been gone exactly— who even is around still. He's thinking of a particular someone, actually, but the fear that he won't find Trish's name on the directory is too great for him to even think of checking.
First things first, though: he needs to figure out which way his deck is. All it takes is a couple of wrong turns down a hallway and he realizes he completely lost his way. He's not usually the kind to get lost, but he's ascribing it to the haze in his mind, the disorientation from waking up just a few minutes ago.
He starts glancing around instead, trying to find someone. Hearing footsteps nearby, he walks towards them in hopes that whomever it is, they'll help him find his way again.
With some details cleared out, some questions asked and answered, and a quick read over the MID and whatever information he can get his hands on, his mind focuses on the next thing to do. He needs to find Trish. He goes back to his room, takes a warm shower and puts on some fresh clothes, feeling marginally better when he steps back outside, short hair and beard both looking impeccable and far less messy than the tangle of curls Trish would normally be familiar with.
It's a strange thing, how this works. He didn't even remember meeting her for that whole year he was gone, but now that he's back here, he realizes just how terribly he missed her, and how scared he is that any memories he has of her can be erased from his mind so easily. It should scare him enough to not want to do anything about it, but it's the opposite, actually. Something about having love and lost, probably.
He distinctly remembers quoting a line from a movie at her that directly relates to the sentiment. The point is, he feels as if he's been given a second chance, and Bruce doesn't get those. Not ever.
The problem is in finding her, though. He goes to her room but it's empty, he tries the radio station but she's not there, he sticks to the most popular areas of the ship, such as the mess hall, the gardens, the recreation room, but she's nowhere to be found. His heart clenches a little in his chest; maybe there's an error in the directory. Maybe she's not really on board, or maybe it's a different Trish Walker. He pushes the crippling worry away, though, and instead starts tapping on his MID, not even looking ahead as he keeps walking down the hallway, much too focused on sending her a text instead.
Bruce used to think getting brought to a spaceship in an alternate universe was the strangest thing to happen to him, but he's quickly revising his opinion. This whole cryostasis experience has been something else entirely, and the sleep part isn't even the weirdest. The weirdest is what's happened on a mental level, and how he experienced over a year of memories in the span of three days.
He has to catch up on some things now, or rather, he has to refresh his memory. He walks the hallways and drops by the most active areas of the ship with curiosity, watching places and people alike, spends hours in the science department rereading files and looking over the work he himself did, slowly filling in any gaps and holes he has in his memory.
Some might have known he was in stasis for the past few days and want to check up on him, some might find the short hair and beard a strange change, either way he looks very approachable no matter where one might find him. Probably even more approachable than he did before.
Or, if he's familiar enough with someone and recognizes their face easily, he might just be the one to go over to them, greeting them with a smile and a hello.
When: April 1st to 3rd, give or take
Where: All around the Moira
What: Bruce comes back after a 3-day nap on a cryo unit, but with over a year worth of memories. From his perspective, it's been a good while since he's been on the Moira.
Warnings: Nudity, an old man accidentally flashing a minor. (Whoops.) Also NSFW for sex in one thread.
( a note: I'm good with both brackets and prose, so just pick whichever you prefer and I'll match! )
WAKE UP; CLOSED TO ZATANNA.
He wakes up with a startle, but it doesn't show. He's just so used to controlling every aspect of himself that when the unit brings him back from his stasis with a jolt, he barely moves. His eyes open, there's a soft silent gasp, but he lies there for a while, letting the cold envelop him little by little, and the memories of his surroundings slowly trickle into his mind.
It takes him a while. It's been over a year since he's been here, and he didn't even remember any of his time here for all the while that he was back in his world. Not even a dream, a ghost of a recollection, just... a complete blank. As if his life had never really stopped, as if he'd never truly been kidnapped into a spaceship on an alternate universe to begin with.
He knew that it was highly likely this is how it would happen when someone goes back home, of course, but one thing is to know or theorize what happens, another thing entirely is to experience it firsthand.
Eventually, he climbs out of the unit, but he doesn't go too far. Still clinging to the edge, cold feet touch the hard metallic floor, his knees nearly giving in under the weight of his own body, and when he glances down, he realizes he's completely naked. Shivering from the cold, little droplets hanging from the tips of his short hair, he looks around, trying to spot some clothes or even just a towel to wrap himself up in.
WANDER; CLOSED TO OBI-WAN.
After the initial shock of waking up, and now wearing a pair of pants and shoes, he's slipped on a hospital gown from the medbay and stepped outside. The objective here is to find his way to his room as soon as possible, to try and figure out what's going on right now, how long he's been gone exactly— who even is around still. He's thinking of a particular someone, actually, but the fear that he won't find Trish's name on the directory is too great for him to even think of checking.
First things first, though: he needs to figure out which way his deck is. All it takes is a couple of wrong turns down a hallway and he realizes he completely lost his way. He's not usually the kind to get lost, but he's ascribing it to the haze in his mind, the disorientation from waking up just a few minutes ago.
He starts glancing around instead, trying to find someone. Hearing footsteps nearby, he walks towards them in hopes that whomever it is, they'll help him find his way again.
REUNITE; CLOSED TO TRISH.
With some details cleared out, some questions asked and answered, and a quick read over the MID and whatever information he can get his hands on, his mind focuses on the next thing to do. He needs to find Trish. He goes back to his room, takes a warm shower and puts on some fresh clothes, feeling marginally better when he steps back outside, short hair and beard both looking impeccable and far less messy than the tangle of curls Trish would normally be familiar with.
It's a strange thing, how this works. He didn't even remember meeting her for that whole year he was gone, but now that he's back here, he realizes just how terribly he missed her, and how scared he is that any memories he has of her can be erased from his mind so easily. It should scare him enough to not want to do anything about it, but it's the opposite, actually. Something about having love and lost, probably.
He distinctly remembers quoting a line from a movie at her that directly relates to the sentiment. The point is, he feels as if he's been given a second chance, and Bruce doesn't get those. Not ever.
The problem is in finding her, though. He goes to her room but it's empty, he tries the radio station but she's not there, he sticks to the most popular areas of the ship, such as the mess hall, the gardens, the recreation room, but she's nowhere to be found. His heart clenches a little in his chest; maybe there's an error in the directory. Maybe she's not really on board, or maybe it's a different Trish Walker. He pushes the crippling worry away, though, and instead starts tapping on his MID, not even looking ahead as he keeps walking down the hallway, much too focused on sending her a text instead.
REACCLIMATE; OPEN.
Bruce used to think getting brought to a spaceship in an alternate universe was the strangest thing to happen to him, but he's quickly revising his opinion. This whole cryostasis experience has been something else entirely, and the sleep part isn't even the weirdest. The weirdest is what's happened on a mental level, and how he experienced over a year of memories in the span of three days.
He has to catch up on some things now, or rather, he has to refresh his memory. He walks the hallways and drops by the most active areas of the ship with curiosity, watching places and people alike, spends hours in the science department rereading files and looking over the work he himself did, slowly filling in any gaps and holes he has in his memory.
Some might have known he was in stasis for the past few days and want to check up on him, some might find the short hair and beard a strange change, either way he looks very approachable no matter where one might find him. Probably even more approachable than he did before.
Or, if he's familiar enough with someone and recognizes their face easily, he might just be the one to go over to them, greeting them with a smile and a hello.
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Evidently, having her shirt off did not in fact render Bruce completely useless, so there's that.
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Definitely not useless, no.
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"Wait," said more to himself than anything, forehead pressing into the nook of her shoulder, close to her armpit. "Move, just... back. Move back. Just a little. I can't handle this much."
Or he's scared that he can't, anyway. Better be safe than sorry right now.
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She shifts back, head tilting to kiss his hair, her voice little more than a breathless whisper.
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"Don't be."
There's nothing to be sorry for, and the important part here is she listened. She stopped and she did as he asked her to, no lingering or questions or pushing for something he's not comfortable with yet.
He'd much rather keep touching her instead, so that's what he does, fingers of the hand still on her breast playing with her nipple as the other dips lower, slides down the front of her leg, thumb tracing the seam of her pants along her inner thigh as it moves back up.
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She briefly considers telling him that he doesn't have to keep going, but then decides to trust that he knows that since he doesn't exactly seem to be playing with her tits out of a sense of obligation here.
She can't stop her hips from tilting, seeking the touch of that teasing hand. Patience is not one of her greater virtues, but he knew that already.
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His hand slides all the way up to the waist of her pants, the other dropping so that with both he can make quicker work of undoing button and zipper, very much eager to get her out of that piece of clothing— or just finding a way of touching her more directly without her having to actually pull away from him right now.
Which is why, as soon as there's enough room, he's dipping one hand inside her pants, fingers curving and molding themselves between her legs, a gasp escaping him when his fingertips press into the wet warmth already staining her panties.
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Her hands come to rest on his shoulders, fingertips digging hard into them as she presses herself against his hand, a sound that sounds rather a lot like a whimper slipping past her lips.
"God, that feels good."
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"You feel good."
Responding to the rolling of her hips, his hand moves, fingers rubbing presently between her legs, quickly getting covered in her juices in the process. His mouth finds its way back to her breasts, sucking hard on a nipple, teeth digging lightly while his other hand slips into her pants on the back and cups her ass.
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/wraps up with a porn bow
She's not the most prone to being loud in these situations, but this time she does get very noisy indeed until at last his hand is covered by a rush of new moisture as she screams in joyful ecstasy, laughing and panting as she slumps against him, thoroughtly blissed out.
Sometimes, being kidnapped and stuck in space kind of isn't the worst thing ever, really.