The ghost of a smile ticks on Blonsky's face again when she can't even get his name out. He doesn't care what she thinks of him, he wants her angry to get what they both need out of this situation. Today his hands are pinned in front of him, allowing him to lay down at his seat. He watches her, probably a little too interested as she hooks up the others.

The Forger makes a quip about Blonsky being a bit of a junkie and Blonsky just snorts before reclining and waiting his turn. He would go under first, and he'd been meticulously crafting this dreamscape so it was exacting, to the sort of perfect military standards his uniform might require. Every crack, rock and cloud was defined with precision, and with the power of his memories fueling the illusion, they could stand quite a beating.