thearena | it's poetry in motion tbh

Entry tags:

it's poetry in motion tbh

Who| Bruce (or, later, the Hulk) and open!
What| Trying and ultimately failing to stay alive
Where| First around the surface, then later on in a crevasse!
When| All through the second week!
Warnings| Is the Hulk a warning? There might also be some thoughts on past suicide attempts.
Notes | Earlier in the week, he'll be Bruce; after slipping into a crevasse with De and co, he'll be the Hulk for the majority of the remaining time! Tell me which you'd like to see in your tag, or make it obvious by the setting (if you're in a crevasse, you almost definitely get the Hulk).

Those up on the surface will see a not particularly threatening sight; Dr. Bruce Banner, grabbing his coat closer to him and trying not to stumble around in the snow. He keeps moving only because being killed means putting on a show, so he'll only stumble around to an area where it looks like no one's around before sitting down to pile up some snow as a windbreak and try to figure out how to get out of this.

The one time he could really use the other guy, of course, is when he's already gone; maybe this time he'll actually die when he climbs up into the Arctic and throws himself into a miserable hole. At least it'd give him a sense of closure.

Those down in the crevasse, if they happen to be around at the right moment, will hear a heavy thud, and maybe feel the ground shake. From that point on, they might catch a glimpse of an enormous green monster shambling around in the small space; maybe he's trying to climb back up, or maybe he seems to be looking for something. Maybe he's got a little less self-control than all that, though-- maybe he's just smashing shit.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He looked up and smiled, looking nervous but not jumpy-- more like he's checking to see if he was about to get ambushed.

"I think I left my boat at home," he replied easily, holding his hands up casually to show they were empty. He wasn't foolish enough to blindly trust people, but he wasn't interested in winning; if his life wasn't immediately in danger, he wasn't opposed to some company. Talking instead of fighting was a pretty good protest, right? "You wouldn't happen to have a spare, would you?"

"Man, and here my whole plan hinged on borrowing yours."

She gave a friendly smile, moving close enough to carry on a conversation without yelling. But far enough away she could still get back, if needed.

"Having a grand old time here in Paradise here, I see. I'm De."

He smiles too, sticking his hands back in his pockets-- they're too cold otherwise. "Oh, of course. I love freezing to death in the middle of a frozen icicle."

All things considered, though, he really preferred it to bleeding out from a fight (or, of course, the other option, but he never wants to think about the other option). Freezing to death was boring. That's the best he could do in his situation.

"Bruce." It's a little odd, going by his first name only at his age to someone at hers, but he'd long ago stopped using his full name-- or title-- around when it could attract some unwanted attention. God forbid she was from around his time, or there could be some awkward questions.

He stands there awkwardly, before biting the metaphorical bullet. "There's a no shanking policy in this corner of the ice, but you're welcome to it."

"I'm avoiding the shanking while I can, but thanks for the offer."

He was doing good at getting her to as much ease as she was going to be around these parts. And they might as well share notes.

"You having any luck finding food? I'm never gonna have an omelet again."

After one more considering look at her, he went back to what he was doing-- namely, squatting in the snow, trying not to be noticeable. He stayed far enough away from her to keep from having to actually trust her not to kill him, and for her to hopefully feel the same about him.

"I haven't actually eaten since," he admitted. "Plenty of ice cold water, though."

Well, it sucked he hadn't run into anything else. And maybe she would regret doing this but...he wasn't the enemy. They were. And fuck them.

"If you go by the cliffs, there's eggs. And birds if you can catch them. And cook them."

Could you eat raw birds? Was there some kind of natural raised rules?

He raised his eyebrows with a smile, looking at her like he's challenging her to look at him and decide if that's an option. "I don't really make a habit of climbing around cliffs. It's a nice, quiet, boring death for me."

He said it casually, but that's what it came down to in the end; making his protest in the only way available to him.

Of course, at that moment, his stomach rumbled.

"...Not that I'd be opposed..."

She gave him a lop sided grin.

"You give me a boost up, I've gotten pretty good at scrambling to get into the nests..."

But she also understood the protest. It wasn't her mode of operation right now. But...it might become one.

He hesitated for just a second, but if she wanted to kill him, she could have done it already. It's not like he'd be much of a fight even if he wanted to stay alive.

"Yeah, all right. Where're the best eggs?"

She squinted into the light, before pointing to where the ice jutted up. They were harder to see with the glasses, but even just after a few days, her eyes were adjusting, and the dark scruff of the nests was visible.

"Do you see the dark spots over there?"

He holds his hand up to cut down on the glare, squinting in the direction she indicates. "These things didn't come in prescription, so I'll take your word for it."

"They took your glasses? That shit is just low."

She shook her head, looking over at him. Really, she sorta got why she was here, but what the hell fun would this guy be to watch.

"...is there any reason they pull us in here...uhh, I don't think I got your name, stranger."

"Maybe it's funnier to watch, who knows?"

He, meanwhile, thought he knew why he was here, until the most obvious explanation was ruled out. What's the point of grabbing someone like him if they went and cut off the destruction?

"Wish I knew, maybe it'd get me out." And he smiled awkwardly, because it's a pretty weak joke. "Bruce Banner."

She snickered, shaking his hand.

"Bruce Banner, huh. Oh man, you must get a lot of bad jokes about that one."

...then again, maybe not everyone made bad jokes about comic book characters quite the way De did. On second thought, she was pretty sure enough did for it to get annoying.

And here she was, tactfully adding on.

"Uh..."

He can't really think of any reason why, but he's not exactly looking to get this apparently hilarious joke explained to him, so. "Trust me, I'm surrounded by enough bad jokes as it is."

Weird.

"Shall we, then?"

She would say that sounds familiar, but really, they're all her jokes, so she can't really talk.

"Let's." Might as well, maybe there was something in here. Last little bond she made hadn't turned out so bad.

"You run into anyone else around here?"

"I've been kind of trying to not," he says with a smile, struggling his way through the snow. "I'm not really up for the stabby sort of company."

Though it would get him out of the snow faster, so it's at least partially a win-win. As it was, the most he got to see was flat planes of snow; he hadn't even come across a crevasse. Yet.

"Yeah, I can respect that."

She was starting to feel comfortable enough here, talking to him. Perhaps she would extend an offer back to her cave with Glinda.

"Luckily the only one I've run into is a fairy princess, so we've been getting along well enough."

[[OOC-just to double check the plan, we are having them collapse into a crevasse, and him hulk out, and her stabby, yeah?))

Of course, he's assuming this is figurative, and not a literal fairytale princess; he hasn't had that much time to get accustom to the entirety of the strangeness of this place. "Oh, those are the kinds you definitely have to watch out for. Killing you with kindness."

[ooc: yep!]

"Yeah, right? The worst death." She paused, think of Glinda. "She's actually pretty sassy. More so then I'd expect..."

She trailed off as she came to an unexpected obstacle between them, and a bounty of eggs. A crevasse, not terribly deep but long, that had been hidden from view from their previous position by a gentle slant of snow.

"Well, shit."

She inched forward, not realizing that where they were standing wasn't solid ice, but and outcropping over said crevasse.

((OOC-Let's get this party started!))

He came to stop, too, aware suddenly of this additional danger-- they'd have to watch their step even closer, now, if there were random holes in the ice. He peered closer without moving forward, and laughed quietly to himself. It was funny, in a terrible sort of way. Here's the big gaping hole in the ice that would properly kill him this time.

But that was sort of crazy people behavior, so he glanced over to her. "Hey, careful, maybe we should find another way around..."

[YEAH SON YEAH god I'm sorry I'm so slow]

"Yeah, I think that's a bet-"

And then there was a surprisingly quiet sound, like someone stepping on a branch. A surprisingly quiet sound for surprisingly large reaction. De didn't even have time to react before the ice tipped them forward, rushing into the gaping crevasses before them.

So, this was an anti-climatic end.

((psssh, like I'm any faster. That's what back tagging's for.))

His eyes widened immediately, reaching forward instinctively even as the ice cracked and fell away under their feet. He shut his eyes, trying not to think about how this would hurt, and trying to ignore the poetic justice of it all--

But as he fell forward, the push that had been missing from the back of his mind this entire time suddenly shoved forward, full blast, as his heart pounded with adrenaline from the fall. He struggled to keep it down, but it had caught him completely unaware-- and why wouldn't it? It was supposed to be gone, they had managed to get rid of it-- and that was the last thing he could remember thinking as the other guy exploded forward.

He landed with a heavy thud, hunched over and working through the last few spasms, the high-tech insulated clothing in shreds around him. He didn't remember anything about what was going on, just that he had hit the ground and was out for a reason, so he hauled himself to his feet and let out a roar into the sky.

[SOBBING]

The fall knocked the breath out of her, and she wanted to lay there and panted for a moment but something was wrong.

Very wrong.

"Holy fucking shit."

Scrambling to her feet and away, she moved as quick as she could. Because 'ha ha you must get a lot of Bruce Banner jokes' was now not really funny at all.

We wasn't able to remember what had happened; he wasn't even conscious enough to realize that he couldn't remember. It was just rage brought about by confusion, and it caused him to latch on the nearest obvious target, especially when that target was backing away.

He roared again, this time at her, coiled up in what would be called a defensive pose if he wasn't so offensive, ready to fight.

it's poetry in motion tbh

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