Tony Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
in_extremis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2021-09-27 03:17 pm
in_extremis) wrote in revivalproject2021-09-27 03:17 pm
Intrust
WHO: Tony! And there's stuff in here for various people: Merrin, Alberto, Kaz, Omega, but they're all basically open to hop into with the nonsense of your choosing. If Tony's not actually in the scene set, he can be easily summoned. You know how to reach me if you want to talk about it.
WHERE: Kind of all around Temba, mostly at the hospital
WHAT: Tony has some deliveries to make, and is scoping out some space to use at the hospital
WHEN: Late September
WARNINGS: Should be chill. I'll keep you posted.
a. Temba Postal Service [Merrin, hotel denizens?]
The D.A.T.A. unit was under a lot of stress. He barely could navigate around the forge with confidence by now, and here he was, crouched at the bottom of the imposingly steep stairs of the hotel, camera eye tilted back and up and aperture wide open to take in the climb ahead of him, looking frail and like he might be capable of spontaneously weeping. He did know this place well enough, in his own way; there was another camera nearby that scanned the road outside, and occasionally peeked into the hotel lobby. That camera didn't have to try to haul this package up these stairs, though.
The small robot braced himself, literally, legs arranged particularly to bring himself into perfect balance before he was launching himself with a quick, experimental repulsor blast that hurtled him most of the way up the stairs. He crashed into one, leaving his round, polished body rolling across it until he could right himself and repeat the process; careful legs out, and launch.
Eventually, a tiny, tapping scratch came at the door to Merrin's room, and the D.A.T.A. unit disengaged the package that had been strapped around its middle to leave carefully in the middle of the hall. It was a tightly folded scrap of fabric, black and strangely textured, like it had been pressed into the shape of bubble wrap, and topped with a small, delicate plate of hammered brass that had been embossed simply with 'MERRIN'. Inside was the stone she had given Tony, with its strange green glow that looked warm in its poured gold setting that filled the uneven edges and cracks of the rock. It hung from a tight, flat snake chain, whose links faded from the yellow gold to a cooler brass until they were almost green themselves around the closure.
b. Emergency Repair Centre [Omega, anyone lurking around the hospital]
The hospital, meat, all of the inefficient ways that bodies were put together and easily fell apart at the slightest disturbance, that wasn't Tony's areas expertise. Standing at the doors once he had dropped off the D.A.T.A. unit with his instructions was already uncomfortable for Tony, even with BB-8 at his side, a discomfort which he attributed entirely to this lack of expertise and something of an imposter syndrome in his intent here, and not at all to any extended time he already spent here being largely humiliating. He was totally fine with that and definitely didn't need to talk to anyone about it. After all, there were plenty of good spaces in the hospital as well, and he was here to make use of one. Like the break room, or that was what it was the last time Tony had investigated, and looked mostly like storage as Tony peeked inside, the counter with Jon's kettle gone and replaced with a bunch of boxes that left the room looking dreary and dim. Alright, maybe not there, where BB-8 could only roll a tight circle, hardly sufficient for a nurse. Tony knew that if he followed down this hall, he would find at least one room with a bed set up for convalescing, or whatever it was that Billy did to him, and a staircase down to a much less welcoming basement where the generator slept. Maybe not that way either then. He hoisted the bag he carried further up onto his shoulder and considered the direction that would take them deeper into the dark, echoing hospital, and looked to the droid with eyebrows raised. This was supposed to be good for both of them, a purpose to occupy them in the void of Poe's absence, and a reason not to be the one to have to tell Reeve yet. They could do this. They'd make a good team, putting things back together. Only, the first door Tony came across pulled right off of its hinges, sending him stumbling back out of its way to let it fall to the floor with a loud crack. It was possible that there was more than meat that needed fixing in this place.
c. Temba Postal Service, cont [Alberto, beach-goers]
There were less cameras installed further away from the city centre, but the one sitting just off of the path to the beach had watched Alberto pass frequently enough that the D.A.T.A. unit came scuttling along the sand, dragging a package wrapped in waxy paper behind him. Another stamped metal tag hung from this one, bearing the boy's name, and it was much larger and lumpier than the delivery to Merrin had been, so it was with regular hops into the sky with his new repulsor that the robot had made his way across the city, sending the package swinging forward and throwing himself along with its momentum. This had left it looking dirty and battered by the time the D.A.T.A. unit was swivelling its camera eye around the beach.
There weren't a lot of places that someone might be living so close to the water, so the robot made for the rare structure that he did spot, and launched himself with another repulsor hop (he was getting better at the repulsor already!) and swing straight through the door, hammering it open under the weight of his metal body and the delivery he brought. With a flail of his spider-like legs, he righted himself and delicately went about releasing his package like he hadn't just come tumbling in.
Inside the waxy paper was a pair of shoes, hard black exteriors like the soot Alberto's feet had been coated with in the forge, but with soft soles, and lined with more black, textured like bubble wrap, gentle and springy. A faint pattern was printed along them, pressed into the fabric and creating a shine in the nap, a subtle scaling that caught the light with a jagged row of shark's teeth wrapping the toe.
d. Meanwhile... [Kaz! Interrupt him if you're nosy?]
It was a long day before anyone made it back to the forge. The flicker of the fire burned ceaselessly, and the armor hung from the ceiling swayed slowly with a the breeze that swirled in the scorched air. The D.A.T.A. unit dutifully returned first, scuttling along the dusty road, aperture half closed and relying more on the cameras hidden in empty windowframes or perched on roofs around him to navigate, his repulsor charge burnt out. He had a perfect map of how exactly the forge had been left before his important deliveries, so he continued to walk blindly through, heading without sight directly for the Iron Man chestplate that leaned against the workbench to drag down with a screech of metal on stone, and sit on like a nesting bird, legs all tucked in and the sound of motors whirring down to charge. It intended to idle, pointed watchfully toward the open door, only background processes to record and expecting only Tony back eventually, so it remained still at the flicker of movement that fell across the doorway.
WHERE: Kind of all around Temba, mostly at the hospital
WHAT: Tony has some deliveries to make, and is scoping out some space to use at the hospital
WHEN: Late September
WARNINGS: Should be chill. I'll keep you posted.
a. Temba Postal Service [Merrin, hotel denizens?]
The D.A.T.A. unit was under a lot of stress. He barely could navigate around the forge with confidence by now, and here he was, crouched at the bottom of the imposingly steep stairs of the hotel, camera eye tilted back and up and aperture wide open to take in the climb ahead of him, looking frail and like he might be capable of spontaneously weeping. He did know this place well enough, in his own way; there was another camera nearby that scanned the road outside, and occasionally peeked into the hotel lobby. That camera didn't have to try to haul this package up these stairs, though.
The small robot braced himself, literally, legs arranged particularly to bring himself into perfect balance before he was launching himself with a quick, experimental repulsor blast that hurtled him most of the way up the stairs. He crashed into one, leaving his round, polished body rolling across it until he could right himself and repeat the process; careful legs out, and launch.
Eventually, a tiny, tapping scratch came at the door to Merrin's room, and the D.A.T.A. unit disengaged the package that had been strapped around its middle to leave carefully in the middle of the hall. It was a tightly folded scrap of fabric, black and strangely textured, like it had been pressed into the shape of bubble wrap, and topped with a small, delicate plate of hammered brass that had been embossed simply with 'MERRIN'. Inside was the stone she had given Tony, with its strange green glow that looked warm in its poured gold setting that filled the uneven edges and cracks of the rock. It hung from a tight, flat snake chain, whose links faded from the yellow gold to a cooler brass until they were almost green themselves around the closure.
b. Emergency Repair Centre [Omega, anyone lurking around the hospital]
The hospital, meat, all of the inefficient ways that bodies were put together and easily fell apart at the slightest disturbance, that wasn't Tony's areas expertise. Standing at the doors once he had dropped off the D.A.T.A. unit with his instructions was already uncomfortable for Tony, even with BB-8 at his side, a discomfort which he attributed entirely to this lack of expertise and something of an imposter syndrome in his intent here, and not at all to any extended time he already spent here being largely humiliating. He was totally fine with that and definitely didn't need to talk to anyone about it. After all, there were plenty of good spaces in the hospital as well, and he was here to make use of one. Like the break room, or that was what it was the last time Tony had investigated, and looked mostly like storage as Tony peeked inside, the counter with Jon's kettle gone and replaced with a bunch of boxes that left the room looking dreary and dim. Alright, maybe not there, where BB-8 could only roll a tight circle, hardly sufficient for a nurse. Tony knew that if he followed down this hall, he would find at least one room with a bed set up for convalescing, or whatever it was that Billy did to him, and a staircase down to a much less welcoming basement where the generator slept. Maybe not that way either then. He hoisted the bag he carried further up onto his shoulder and considered the direction that would take them deeper into the dark, echoing hospital, and looked to the droid with eyebrows raised. This was supposed to be good for both of them, a purpose to occupy them in the void of Poe's absence, and a reason not to be the one to have to tell Reeve yet. They could do this. They'd make a good team, putting things back together. Only, the first door Tony came across pulled right off of its hinges, sending him stumbling back out of its way to let it fall to the floor with a loud crack. It was possible that there was more than meat that needed fixing in this place.
c. Temba Postal Service, cont [Alberto, beach-goers]
There were less cameras installed further away from the city centre, but the one sitting just off of the path to the beach had watched Alberto pass frequently enough that the D.A.T.A. unit came scuttling along the sand, dragging a package wrapped in waxy paper behind him. Another stamped metal tag hung from this one, bearing the boy's name, and it was much larger and lumpier than the delivery to Merrin had been, so it was with regular hops into the sky with his new repulsor that the robot had made his way across the city, sending the package swinging forward and throwing himself along with its momentum. This had left it looking dirty and battered by the time the D.A.T.A. unit was swivelling its camera eye around the beach.
There weren't a lot of places that someone might be living so close to the water, so the robot made for the rare structure that he did spot, and launched himself with another repulsor hop (he was getting better at the repulsor already!) and swing straight through the door, hammering it open under the weight of his metal body and the delivery he brought. With a flail of his spider-like legs, he righted himself and delicately went about releasing his package like he hadn't just come tumbling in.
Inside the waxy paper was a pair of shoes, hard black exteriors like the soot Alberto's feet had been coated with in the forge, but with soft soles, and lined with more black, textured like bubble wrap, gentle and springy. A faint pattern was printed along them, pressed into the fabric and creating a shine in the nap, a subtle scaling that caught the light with a jagged row of shark's teeth wrapping the toe.
d. Meanwhile... [Kaz! Interrupt him if you're nosy?]
It was a long day before anyone made it back to the forge. The flicker of the fire burned ceaselessly, and the armor hung from the ceiling swayed slowly with a the breeze that swirled in the scorched air. The D.A.T.A. unit dutifully returned first, scuttling along the dusty road, aperture half closed and relying more on the cameras hidden in empty windowframes or perched on roofs around him to navigate, his repulsor charge burnt out. He had a perfect map of how exactly the forge had been left before his important deliveries, so he continued to walk blindly through, heading without sight directly for the Iron Man chestplate that leaned against the workbench to drag down with a screech of metal on stone, and sit on like a nesting bird, legs all tucked in and the sound of motors whirring down to charge. It intended to idle, pointed watchfully toward the open door, only background processes to record and expecting only Tony back eventually, so it remained still at the flicker of movement that fell across the doorway.