thisavrou_log | ( open ) my hands will stain the seas scarlet

Who: Bruce Banner and anyone!
When: A few days after the planet's destruction, once Bruce wakes up.
Where: The cage in the cargo hold.
What: Bruce's coming to grips with the fact that the destruction of the planet is his fault, hiding away in his cage while fully expecting people to come by. Some to blame him, others to say that it's not his fault - neither will really help.
Warnings: Bruce-flavored angst? Dry heaving. Probably a very brief and vague suicidal thought here or there. Nothing much otherwise.
(PS: I am STILL open to people tagging him at the event log, by the way - should anyone be wondering.)

His eyes open into an alarmingly sharp sight.

There's no confusion, no moment of laziness or feeling of rest. It's as if he just blinked - and now he's there again. Except he knows it wasn't just a blink, it wasn't just sleeping either. The memories are as sharp as his sight, and they assault him almost instantly. Screams, cracks, people's faces, yelling, crying, afraid - even the angry ones, even the fighters, they're all scared, all screaming, running. Nothing stops the monster. He just keeps going, and all Bruce sees is those massive green fists, crushing one statue after the other, shards of glass breaking off and spreading all around, a whole planet crumbling down in front of his eyes - and him, trapped on the inside, helpless to do anything.

Everything assaults him at once, his insides twisting and making him sick. He rushes to a corner and doubles over, heaving out air and spit but nothing else comes, his stomach empty.

He wishes his mind were empty too - but no such luck.

Standing up is a struggle. His head is light, and the weight of his body makes his weak knees shake. He feels dizzy all over again, but he tries to keep himself upright for a little longer, back to the wall. He looks around, studying the cage. It's an impressive work, even more so than the one that SHIELD had built, and he can't help but mentally congratulate the team who put it together, especially in such a short time.

The fact that he's locked up doesn't bother him in the least; it's probably for the best, anyway. The Hulk hadn't really fought the confines of the prison, he knows that much - he'd been brought in still frozen, and the moment he thawed, he relinquished control back to Bruce. But he knows that it would likely have held the monster, and frankly Bruce prefers being here rather than anywhere else. At least he doesn't have to face anyone yet.

Left somewhere in the cage, he eventually finds clothes, a pair of plain trousers and a sweatshirt, looking much like pajamas. Funny, someone must've told the crew that the monster was a man - or the man was a monster. People from his world, maybe, or the unsuspecting woman who had watched him turn. Regardless, he just grabs the clothes and puts them on, the warmth of the fabric offering no comfort whatsoever.

Eventually he curls up on the mattress, keeping the covers tight around his shoulders, back facing away from where people could come by and see him. He's not planning to ignore anyone - he knows eventually he'll have to face the consequences of what the monster did - but he's not about to strike up conversation. If people just want to come by and see him, look at him like an animal in a cage and nothing more, then let them. It'd be a relief if he didn't have to actually open his mouth and talk anytime soon.

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"Weren't you there?" His own answer, in form of a question, has a definite evasive quality to it. It's not something he wants to talk about, evidently, but he knows that won't work well. People will have questions, they'll want to know more about what happened - and after what the Hulk has done, telling them whatever he can seems like the least he can do.

"What do you want to know?"

Peridot rubs her chin thoughtfully in silence, casting a critical gaze over him. Strangely enough, she doesn't seem scared by Bruce at all; on the contrary, there's a curious glint in her eye. "No, I wasn't there," she says belatedly. "I was on the ship. For starters, have you always been able to shapeshift like that? Do you have some kind of condition?"

"Good. That's... that's good."

Doesn't make what happened any less grave, but at least he didn't hurt everyone. At least a few were relatively safe.

"A condition. You could call it that." His smile is bitter as he looks at her, shaking his head. "I didn't always have this. Only some years past. There was this-- this accident on a lab. Something I was working on. The experiment didn't go too well." A pause. "Obviously this wasn't what was supposed to happen."

She blinks slowly. "I see... Hmph."

There's another stretch of silence.

"Why hasn't anyone come to let you out yet? You've changed back, right? These accommodations hardly seem necessary in that case, when you have perfectly good quarters up on the Mero deck."

He looks at her, almost surprised to hear her say that. Not just for what she says, but the way she says it. Casual, simple, like the reasons for him being in the cage to begin with hardly matter now.

"I can leave whenever I want. I just... don't want to leave yet."

"What?" Now she looks confused. "Why not?"

She really earnestly does not understand, the tone of her question not unlike that of a stubborn child's.

In a way, it's nice that she doesn't feel like she's in danger around him, that there's no hesitance on her part on having him around in their shared room again. On the other hand, it shows how naïve she is that she doesn't seem to fully understand the potential consequences of what he's done. Him, the monster inside - most people don't really care for the difference.

"It's best that I let things settle down a little first. A lot of the people here wouldn't like to see me around the ship, and I don't want to get into any fights. I don't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable or scared either." Because he will, he's sure. One way or another, there are people here who won't ever feel at ease around him. "Just a few more days. I don't mind it here, anyway."

"Personally I think they should learn to mind their own business," Peridot says primly, folding her arms over her chest. "But if that's your wish, then that's fine by me."

The little gem may be noisy, nosy, and opinionated, but she's not much for trying to impose her will on other people unless it immediately affects her own directives.

She cocks her head. "So... that really was you down there. Fascinating..." A smirk plays at the corner of her lips. "You forced Jasper into regenerating, you know." Again, just a statement, no anger or anything of its sort there. In fact, she looks impressed...

"Thank you," he says quietly, grateful she doesn't insist. He doesn't really feel like explaining why it is the people's right to not want him walking around freely, and besides it doesn't look like she'd understand that logic much.

It's a little beyond him why she sounds impressed. Sure, it's a pretty impressive thing to see, even if monstrous and terrifying, but he'd expect that kind of a reaction if there hadn't been so much death and destruction.

"Sorry-- I don't know who Jasper is." Regenerating, though - does Peridot mean that was someone else he killed, someone who got brought back somehow?

"Oh." She's obviously trying not to grin, but it's proving a bit difficult, because quantifying exactly what Jasper is just makes the fact that Bruce managed to beat the stuffing out of her all that more impressive.

"Jasper's another gem, like me. Except she's a huge, powerful Quartz-- that's a warrior class gem, by the way-- with thousands of years worth of combat experience." Yeah OK, the grin can't be contained. It breaks free, broad and toothy, before she plows on. "And don't worry, her gem is fine, so it's not like you did any lasting damage to her. She reformed a little while ago, back in our the cabin."

It would be a little helpful if Peridot didn't look quite so happy or pleased. Not everyone he'd attacked was a gem, and they all didn't have the same luck as Jasper seemed to.

"Ah... yes, I remember now." Huge, orange-skinned, light-haired, strong. Hard not to remember when she was one of the very few that could even remotely put up a fight against the Hulk. "I'm glad she's alright. I wouldn't have want to hurt her."

He peers up at Peridot. "Is she a friend of yours?"

"A friend?" She makes a scoffing noise. "I mean... not really. She's my escort, the one who came with me on my mission to Earth. It doesn't really matter though, what's relevant to the point I'm making here is that she's incredibly resilient and strong, and you managed to beat her!" Peridot is practically hopping from foot to foot with enthusiasm, unable to contain her delight over this revelation. "I had no IDEA you were so powerful!"

"It's not exactly a good thing," he says, unable to hide the bitterness in his tone. After all, hadn't he been so powerful, then maybe the planet wouldn't have folded in on itself. Clearly that weighs more on his mind than it does hers, and he'd be lying if he said he understands that. Instead, her excitement feels like rubbing salt on a raw open wound.

( open ) my hands will stain the seas scarlet

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Again, feel free to ignore this, I was on hiatus but technically not officially? e_e;;

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