thebrideoffire: ([Daenerys] Watches (Skyward))
Dąεŋεŗγş Sŧσŗɱɓσŗŋ ([personal profile] thebrideoffire) wrote in [community profile] revivalproject2020-06-30 07:39 am

01 | If I Look Back I'm Lost

WHO: Daenerys Targaryen [personal profile] thebrideoffire
WHERE: Waiting room, Calibrations room
WHAT: Calibration Event/Arrival
WHEN: Backdated to 6/27 to 6/30

Waiting Room

There had been several days of moping, drifting between frustration, anger and heartache. Waking up in a different place, a different world was less strange the second time around, but everything she left behind in the city lingered in her mind. This was...far different than the Tower of Pride in the heart of the City. True, there were no demons and no threat of being infected by them. The downside was that she was once again surrounded by things that she didn't recognize or understand as well as others might. (That gel alone looked nauseating).

The waiting room was at least slightly large and allowed her room to roam, even if it wasn't far. There wasn't the sea, there wasn't vastly different districts to visit, there was just this common room where others frequented...and she gravitated to with little choice. There was at least her dragon egg, not the three that she had been granted in the City, but one. Drogon was still with her, encased in his black and red shell, still seemingly stone, but a familiar heat pulsating from within.

When she claimed a space in the waiting room, the egg went with her, placed next to her side. There had to be a way to hatch him...and even if there wasn't, this would at least occupy her until they finally were released from whatever this place was.

Calibrations Room

This isn't the room you'd expect for a woman with her long titles and claim to the crown. But it's a simple courtyard with a lemon tree that sways against the heated breeze. There's sand beneath your feet, white and beautiful and rough against your skin. There is a stone archway that leads to steps and a large red door where kittens are curled before it. If you try and open the door though, it will not budge. Eventually, it will slip back and draw away, seemingly farther and farther each time you look back at it.

Wildcard

Feel free to hit me up at [plurk.com profile] la_fille_en_histoire if you have any ideas or want to craft a different plot. I'll match style.
sinistral: (☆ 95)

[personal profile] sinistral 2020-07-14 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
"There's undoubtedly a reason. Doesn't mean I have to like the thought of invading someone else's privacy." Surely nothing here came from him; the memory was hers alone. It seemed a pleasant one which put him a little at ease; people tended to sharing pleasant memories more readily than unpleasant ones. The intrusion might be forced, but worse if it was something she wanted to keep unknown.

Eyes skated over her form again, then back down to the sand; keeping that neutral line of sight was the best he could do to preserve her privacy. "I'll not force you to tell me the tale, if you'd rather keep it as your own." He didn't have peaceful memories like this, and wouldn't deny a certain sense of relief at being allowed the respite of this seeming paradise. Though one wry thought did occur: fortunate for it to be a dream, as sand was not fun to clean out of the joints and plates of his arm. "I hope you don't consider it too forward that I'm glad this place chose to show you something you could enjoy."
sinistral: (☆ 21)

[personal profile] sinistral 2020-07-19 09:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"...Perhaps." It was natural for him to assume that others would hate the mental intrusion as much as he, but he reminded himself that it might not be so. Besides, the memory did appear both pleasant and calming, what he imagined would be a welcome break from how life in this place might be otherwise.

"I'm glad that it's been given back to you," he said cautiously. "I know what it's like to lose hold of a memory." He didn't consider himself the best at relating to others; he wasn't quite sure what to say. But she'd been nothing but polite with him thus far, done nothing to threaten, and he forced his natural tendency to be on guard down. Nothing in this place seemed to threaten and while he knew that could likely change, he also didn't want to be the catalyst for tainting a pleasant memory with something else.

He glanced over his shoulder at the kittens sleeping by the red door, then above to the leaves of the lemon tree. The sand was warm beneath him. Overall the scene really was quite peaceful. "I am sorry that an exile took you from this peace."
sinistral: (Default)

[personal profile] sinistral 2020-07-26 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes," he replied with a shrug of the shoulder. He normally didn't like talking about it, not at all, but perhaps it was the dream nature of this space that put him slightly more at ease with the admission. Besides, that simple fact tended not to stay secret for long, though he guarded fiercely the things that were done to cause such a loss.

He did however appreciate both her calm and her seeming practicality; it served her better than hysterics, in his mind. "I imagine it would not be so if the exile were of your own choosing, but that's a different situation entirely." His pause was a little awkward, just on the side of too long. "You may not need to return this exact place to find somewhere else with a similar peace."
sinistral: (☆ 19)

[personal profile] sinistral 2020-07-31 01:19 am (UTC)(link)
"Very little of it." Normally he wouldn't have been as plainly honest, but something about this place — both its representation as a place of peace from her past, and the reality of it as a shared dream experience — seemed to allow it. He pushed his hair back from where it wanted to fall into his face and looked at her, instead of the sand, since she'd expressed her welcome several times. "You don't need to worry over it. My situation is...unique."

In other words: not something likely to threaten anyone else in this place.

"Choosing to live is harder than most people credit it," he replied; they might not have a complete understanding of each other's situations, but he felt that they probably had that in common, just from the little bits they've shared so far. "This, and a will to live. That's hardly nothing."
sinistral: (☆ 97)

[personal profile] sinistral 2020-08-02 05:08 am (UTC)(link)
“Time, maybe.” He didn’t know for sure; decades of HYDRA programming, of having electricity shot through his brain, of being put on ice until he was needed, and he had no real answers about what he would regain. If he would regain any of it. His missions yes, and the skills needed to complete them, but the rest of it?

Probably not worth dwelling on that he might never regain.

“That loneliness may likely be one you’ll not escape.” Not that he wanted to bring such negative thoughts into her pleasant memories but he appreciated honesty and hoped she did as well. “There are things that happen to a person that are absolutely inconceivable to others. It sets you apart. What you do with that isolation, though...” he trailed off, glancing back toward the painted door once more.

“A memory need not be your only strength.”