bakerstreet | The Lotus Eater Machine Meme

Entry tags:

[meme] characterization

The Lotus Eater Machine Meme

Your character falls asleep, or is knocked out, and finds themselves in a dreamworld which is their own personal paradise.

However, this is a trap - And now, their friends have to come and wake them up!

Your character can be the Dreamer or the Dream-diver, who's trying to wake them up. Being the Villain who entrapped them in the first place, or a fellow slumberer trapped in the Dream is fine too.

[Sample Dream Scenarios]

1. It's pretty much the same as their real life, except that it's just a little bit sparklier and nicer then normal.

2. It looks close to their real life on the surface, but the sparkle factor is much stronger in this one - They're basically whatever they wanted to be, deep down inside. Maybe they wanted to be the smartest, or most popular, or most beautiful, or most talented person in their class, town or family? Well, now they will be!

3. It's a wish fulfillment fantasy, plain and simple - They wanted to be a pop singer or a movie star? Well, now they are!

4. Pull out all the stops - Want to be a King or a Queen, or maybe a Magical Girl? It doesn't matter how impossible it is in their real life - In this dream scenario, those wishes will all come true!

5. They wanted their father, mother or any other person important to them to say they were proud of them? They wanted to be considered to be better then their brother, sister, other family member or fellow student, etc etc etc? Those wishes have been granted - Too bad it's all a dream...

6. Be it the death of important people or something else, they bad thing that hurt them badly never happened in this dream scenario - Or maybe there was a last minute save, who knows.

7. Something Else

[The Roles]

1. The Dreamer - Your character is the one trapped in the Dream World the Lotus Eater Machine is generating.

2. The Dream-diver - Your character is the one who is trying to save the person who's trapped in their dreams.

3. The Villain - Your character the one who trapped whoever it was in the Dream-world in the first place.

4. The Fellow Slumberer - Your character just happened to be trapped in the same Dream as the Dreamer is.

5. Something Else

[How To]

1. Post as your character. (Please write down the name and canon/fandom of the character in the subject line, and also if they're canon, AU, crossover or OC, etc.)

2. Please choose your character's role, and set the first scene. If they're the Dreamer, please describe the Dream they're trapped in.

3. The mun who's tagging choses their own roles for their own characters.

4. Tag, thread and have fun!

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[Okay, I have to go with her being the dream-diver/rescuer, since that's her canon role and yay canon. Uhhh so anyone who wants to be rescued by a wee fiery one, hit me up.]

[How he could not remember it happening is a mystery to him, or perhaps it was all a dream. The last thing he remembered was falling, so maybe he hit his head or something. Either way, the world he awoke to was filled with friendly people, somewhat quiet and bland, but happy. Real people? Replicas? He couldn't tell, but something about the bright city and its citizens seemed unnatural.]

[ Dreams are nothing new to Steve, but this one has never stayed with him until the morning, where it could be remembered. Maybe that's why he accepts it so readily.

It makes sense that Steve's idea of paradise isn't a world where everything is miraculously set right again, and the dead return to life. Something like that would clue him in far too quickly to the fact that none of this is real, however powerful this dream might be.

Instead, this dream is a place of rest, almost reminiscent of the 'other side'. It's peaceful here, the landscape shifting over time from one beautiful vista to another, or maybe none at all. For the moment he's found a tree to sit beneath, no sign of shield or armor or any of the trappings from his life as Captain America. It's a little strange that there are no more battles to fight, in this place. Stranger still that it doesn't bother him and all he feels instead is a sense of relief.

The world still has heroes, after all, he's seen them in action. They'll be fine without him, won't they?

He tips his head back, eyes closed with the echoes of what sounds like birdsong drifting overhead. This has been a long time coming, and if this place is what he thinks it is there are quite a few faces he's looking forward to seeing again. ]

[The dream may not be Eames’, but the architecture is certainly his. It’s the rare time where he’s the one constructing a dream, though it may only be because he’s so familiar with the décor – he’s conjured a seedy gambling den, located somewhere underground and lit with overhanging lamps that seem ready to flicker off at any moment. The air is humid and thick, and it smells like tobacco mixed with cologne. There’s several tables filled with people playing cards, drinking hard liquor while holding their poker hands tight while they eye their neighbors for any clues that might help them go home a little bit richer.

Eames wanders, changing appearance to suit where he needs to be – at first, he’s a waitress, wearing a cocktail dress stretched tight around the body’s he’s conjured. Then he shifts into a gambler prowling the tables, looking for an empty chair. When he finds none, he sidles back to the bar and resumes his own appearance while he waits for the dreamer to appear.]

[It doesn't take long for Peggy to realise that this -- whatever it is -- isn't the real world; her bones aren't aching, her hearing's sharper, and her body isn't sagging as much as it normally does. If she had a mirror, she'd see that she looks the way she did back during the war. As it is, though, Peggy figures that she won't get out of this unless she finds the person or thing responsible. So, she starts to walk and it's weird being able to walk this fast again. On most days, she's limited to a shuffle, sometimes being regulated to a cane; it's almost nice, actually, and a little part of her brain reminds her that, if she does go back, she won't be able to drink liquids after ten.

Peggy sees a tree on the steadily changing horizon and she has to run to get there before it disappears. Honestly, she almost trips from shock when she spots the person sitting beneath it. Emotions overfill and spill into her chest like a dam breaking.]

H-hello, Steve.

[ And then, as is the way of dreams, Bruce is sitting cross-legged next to Steve. Hard to tell how long he's been there. To the side stands Hulk, an entirely separate entity, who huffs but otherwise is oddly reserved as he watches Bruce. ]

Hey, Cap.

[ Bruce knows there's a reason he's here, but the false serenity of this place intoxicates, distracts him. Easy to slip into the enticing calm of Steve's dream-- easy because Bruce wants it nearly as badly as his friend.

Hulk grunts, narrowing his eyes; he leans forward and roughly pokes Bruce with a huge finger in the back of the head. Hey. Idiot. Focus. ]

You've been out a while, you know.

Bruce.

[ There's a moment of confusion as he lays eyes on his friend -- if he's here, that means he's gone, the same as Steve -- but the puzzlement clears quickly, shifting into a broad smile. This place is nothing to be afraid of, and if Bruce found his way here then he's glad for him. ]

Have I? I think I lost track of how long it's been. I guess I don't really need to keep track anymore.

[ If he notices Hulk, he doesn't say anything to indicate that fact. Instead he settles back against the tree again, glancing upwards to catch sight of the apples dangling from those branches. They'd been flowers a little while ago, he thinks. The scent still lingers on the breeze that passes over them every now and then.

It's like catching up with every missed moment in his life, every possible moment of peace he could have had, blending one into the other too smoothly to cause alarm. One long, peaceful dream made of a thousand others. ]

Peggy.

[ He turns to look at her and breaks into a wide smile, pushing himself to his feet with ease. There's no sense of nervousness now, no anxiety. No rush. No stumbling, which ought to be some sort of clue in and of itself. He's just glad to see her at long last, and nothing's going to tear them apart ever again.

It wouldn't be Heaven if it did. ]

I was wondering if I'd see you here. Look at you.

[ His brow furrows slightly as he takes her in. Just as he remembers her, every bit as beautiful as the memories he so fondly kept. ]

[ The unburdened smile makes Bruce wince internally. Nothing about this is fair. He'd been warned about coming back without Steve, but part of him, a large part, doesn't want to take this peace away, even if it's an illusion. He wouldn't mind losing himself to this, especially if it meant seeing Betty--

But there's Hulk again, the jagged edge of his conscience, reminding him with a prod to the shoulder blade what he's there for. ]

Listen. Steve. Uh. Do you remember what happened?

[ What happened? That's a curious thing...he doesn't. It's fuzzy, and fuzzier the more he tries to think about it. It was all starting to blend together by now, and the smile fades as he tries to dig back mentally and find it. It's there, he knows, he'd been...

No, that wasn't it. Had he been fighting? Had it been in his sleep? No, neither of these seemed right. What then?

The apples overhead gleam invitingly, and he draws his legs in, pushing to his feet slowly and reaching up into the low-hanging branches to claim one. The urge just takes him to, like it somehow holds the answers he's looking for. ]

...not really. Maybe it's better that way.

[ But it's something he hadn't considered, and not knowing is bothering him a little. Knowing that he doesn't know. It cuts into that blissful fog of ignorance just enough for him to question, but maybe the doubt will pass. Does it matter? He's here now, and this place is beautiful, everything he could have possibly hoped for and more than he ever dreamed.

A second apple is plucked loose and tossed to Bruce, the skin of it cool to the touch. ]

It's, it's important that you remember. You were hit with a spell.

[ Bruce's memory is slipping too, even for the few minutes he's been here. Or has it been hours? Days? The apple is a comforting weight in his hand, and he looks down at it, considering...

Before either Bruce or Steve can act, Hulk rises and snatches the apples away-- only it's Bruce moving to take Steve's, his and Hulk's arms overlapping like skin and shadow. The apples arc in the air as he tosses them far into the field. ]

Bad.

[ Hulk's voice is a jangling discordant note, sending an unpleasant shiver across the sky and plain. He plucks Bruce up by the shirt and sets him standing. ]

Move.

Maybe we should walk. See what's around here.

A spell?

[ Well, dying one way was just as absolute as dying another, wasn't it? Unless he was saying he wasn't, that he had to...

Steve starts slightly when Bruce snatches the apple and flings them both away, brow furrowed as he starts to ask what the other was doing. But he hasn't hurt anything. It's all fine. New apples are already growing, and the ones he'd thrown roll merrily down the hill and bounce out of sight.

Just like that, they're another fading memory folding into all the rest. That soothing atmosphere works its magic, brushing away the worry of spells or death and covering up the seams of the illusion. It's no longer a worry, and Bruce's idea is met with a grin. A walk, huh? He knows just the place. ]

Come on. There's a lake I know you're going to love.

Yeah. Something you ate, there was a spell in it. It didn't kill you, but you're in a coma. And we, we can't wake you up.

[ The scientist in Bruce had been skeptical of this, wanting to call it poison rather than magic, but Thor had been fairly insistent. And the god had accurately predicted all of the symptoms they'd seen in Steve, which lent some weight to the idea. At the very least, it had gotten Bruce this far. If only he could remember what Thor had said about getting Steve out... ]

A lake? Uh, sure.

[ Bruce wracks his brain. He has to get Steve to snap out of it. He looks over his shoulder to Hulk, but the monster gives him a deeply irritated scowl. Do I have to do everything myself? the look says. Right. Okay. Time to be a cruel bastard. 'So just be yourself, Banner,' he thinks. ]

Hey, Steve, can I ask you something? I know it's nice, here, but is it really fair for you to hide when people need you? Don't you think it's a little selfish, knowing you could be out there saving people, and instead you're, you're here?

[ In any other instance the words would wound, and deeply. Instead Steve just shakes his head, glancing over to Bruce a little sheepishly as they make their way through the long grass. ]

I did at first.

[ He can admit that much. He'd wanted to return, worried about the others, but the longer he stayed here the more he found himself reassured that he wasn't needed. That he could be permitted to rest. He'd fought so long as it was, long than most men live. Shouldn't he enjoy his reward for fighting so hard? So tempting were the words, so intoxicating, he couldn't have said where they'd come from, or who. And all of that had faded to unimportance in time. ]

They have the rest of the Avengers. I belong here, now. I don't know, Bruce, I was living on borrowed time as it was. It's more than most people get. I should just be happy for those extra years, and everything I did with them.

{ As soon as the words slip free he pauses. A couple of birds go twittering overhead distractingly, but he isn't looking at them. He's looking at one of the apples Bruce had thrown, resting in the grass like it was expecting him. His voice is quieter, less sure when he speaks again. ]

I should. Be happy with that.

[ The birds go silent around them, like they're holding their breath. ]

[ Bruce feels his anger rise at Steve's capitulations. Coming up the hill behind them, Hulk growls low in his throat. Bruce stops and places a hand on Steve's arm, turning him so they're facing each other. ]

Really. You're, you are going to look me in the face and tell me you belong here. That you're happy with the way you left us. What kind of peace is this, anyway? Where's, where's Peggy? Where's Bucky? If this is paradise, where are all the people who love you? [ He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. ] I've got a low standard for happiness, but this. It's not even convincing.

[Steve's smile does diminish the urgency and gravity of the situation. Peggy can't help but smile back, hand reaching up to fix her hair. Perhaps she has died; this is certainly what Heaven would look like if she did.]

How long have you been here?

[ Bucky...

That creeping doubt returns, like a vine stretching upwards and choking off the illusionary bliss. A portion of him still wants to hold onto it, to believe that it's all finally done.

...but he knows that can't be the case, in his heart. He only needs the reminder of his friend, the conspicuously absent part of this fantasy world in which everything else is perfect, and suddenly the world seems a lot less perfect. There's a static quality to it.

He thinks of when he woke up, the perfect room with the game four years too early to be real, the false windows and false hope. Is that all this is?

Did you really believe it was anything else?

He can't look Bruce in the face and say he believes it. And that should be the most telling thing of all. ]

[It only takes a few more minutes for Peter to arrive. He's more tired in his own mind's eye than he'd been in person, dream-self half asleep already, dark circles and rumpled hair to the usual immaculate suit the spy wears for work.

He's dressed differently, too, in the khakis and boots and rolled up cotton sleeves of his days spent in Africa, details of the space filling in comfortable with the years he'd spent managing networks of informants in places like this, full of sin.

He scans the room subtly. Whenever he'd been in places like this, it was always looking for a contact, usually a scalphunter.]

[Tony's dreams are full of sand and thirst, to this day. He hears the strike of metal on the forge, the pepper of gunfire, the rush of a hot wind and the terrifying crunch of guard's boots in the hall outside.

Sand and thirst. He sits alone in the corner, whirring away with his car-battery still attached, paralyzed. They never come back in his dreams, never try to touch him, just leave him in here to wait and dread and remember.

Normally, the dream ends with one of them opening the door, or with the sound of someone (Yinsen) screaming. He isn't expecting anyone else to join him.]

[Fine with him being trapped or trying to be rescued. Spoilers all of Bruce's fantasies ever involve his parents being alive.]

[Miss Spider can be the rescuer or the rescued. Just let me know which you'd prefer.

Also, in all her dreams, she's a human.]

[Ah, there he is. Eames waits for Peter's eyes to scan another part of the room before he shifts -- his appearance slides away and is replaced with that of another man's. He takes on the look of a somewhat shifty man trying to look more impressive than he knows how to be -- he wears a suit that looks badly tailored and shoes that are unwise in the African heat.

He walks over, hands stuffed in his pockets as he asks:] Mr. Guillam?

Take a back table, I'll join you in a moment with a drink.

[Peter informs him, voice low, with a smile that would fool the room at large but doesn't quite make it all the way to his eyes. It's business.

Even if his contact looked a little like someone he used to know for a moment. (Can't put a finger on it.)]

Everything here is battery acid but the whiskey.

[He puts on a practiced smile of his own.] S'why they charge so much for the damned whiskey.

[He can read Peter's expression well-enough -- polite and practiced with no warmth in it. It reminds him a tiny bit of Arthur. Eames moves to a back corner and grabs a small table, where all the den's gamblers facing away from it. It's as much privacy as a place like this can afford.]

[Expensive or not, he comes back with two glasses, sinking into the seat opposite and sliding one across the table to him.]

So. What's news?

[Could be discussing the weather, a mutual aunt;]

Anything from our friend?

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The Lotus Eater Machine Meme

Lavagirl | The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl (yes, really) | Canon

Sync | Tales of the Abyss | Cannon

Steve Rogers ★ MCU ★ Canon

Eames [The Forger] | Inception | Canon

obligatory peggy tag.

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oh god ;_;

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Bruce is assuming Peggy and Bucky are dead bc he doesn't know any better.

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Tony Stark: MCU: OTA

Bruce Wayne/Batman | DCAU

Miss Spider | James and the Giant Peach | OTA

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