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.
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After considering this with his mouth hanging open, forgotten, for a beat, Tony continued like there had been no interruption, "I knew what I was supposed to be from birth, basically. I didn't have any other options. I don't know if I would have chosen any differently, honestly, but all of the kids I've watched grow up, they're a vet one day and a firefighter the next and I get to buy them a different book on the new thing they're obsessed with every week. You don't know a lot of other kids, do you?"
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"Not a whole lot, no. There's Shaeeah and Jek. They're the first I've met outside of Kamino. They taught me how to play ball," she said with a fond smile.
Slowly she gained a bit more of her confidence back, letting her hand loosen from Tony's as she carefully stepped further into the room. "...I don't like it that much," she confessed, fingers tracing the edge of one of the dusty bed-chairs. "But it's something familiar. I don't know if there was a purpose to my being created. I wasn't going to be a soldier. I was kept apart from the others."
Her eyes drifted towards the translucent forms at the other end of the room. "For a long time I was left alone in a private lab. I saw when my brothers were created, enhanced so they were slightly different from other clones. But then they were sent off to join the others, and it wasn't until recently that I got to be with them again."
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"Most of us don't have a purpose when we're...created," he pointed out with a shrug of one shoulder, and let the bag he carried slip off onto the hard, musty smelling topper of the bed closest to him. The material wasn't solid plastic, but the weight of the bag didn't exactly make an impression, either. "So I guess you're stuck figuring it out like the rest of the schmucks. What about school? You know, sitting in a class, learning math and French and whatever. That usually helps you figure out what you hate, at least." It was a worry that she wasn't under the impression that there was anything distinct about her, but knew those other clones were unique and yet she was the one that was kept separate. That had to mean something. He didn't know how to ask that exactly without being obvious, so he tried a more indirect, "Or was that what you mean by 'enhanced'? Algebra, straight into the lobe," with a tap to his temple like he was firing a gun.
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Omega shook her head as she resumed her cautious exploration of the room. It was big and obviously not being used, but it seemed like it would need a lot of work. She looked over at BB-8 to see if the droid had any thoughts on it.
"No. Nala Se's enhancements made some clones more specialized. This became Clone Force Ninety-Nine. So, Hunter's senses, Crosshair's eyesight, Tech's intelligence, and Wrecker's strength." She spoke their names with fondness, though not without a little sadness pulling at her lips at mention of Crosshair.
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He looked to BB-8 then as well, who was rolling slowly around one of the beds like he might make sense of it being bolted down, and clinked against it once to test its resistance. It would certainly hold up under a particularly heavy metal body. With his focus on the droid, Tony wondered, "Why not give them all the full upgrade?" If they were making supersoldiers, picking and choosing sounded like more work for less results.
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Nodding thoughtfully as BB-8 inspected things, Omega stepped over to the nearby counter, looking up at the cabinets above them, certainly nothing she could reach unless she climbed up. At least they looked to be in tact, which was something.
"I don't know," she said, shrugging. "I only know that the prime minister was trying to convince one of the Imperial representatives that they could deliver better soldiers for the Empire by pointing out the specialized talents of Clone Force Ninety-Nine."
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"So, a prototype," Tony said to Omega, and looked back at her with narrowed eyes, thinking that maybe she was the supersoldier and everyone neglected to tell her that no, most people couldn't do those things. Or something didn't go according to plan. "There weren't any more? Enhancements, before them. Got it in one."
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"No. There's only five enhanced clones," she said as she tugged open one of the cabinets, if only getting it to open after a couple of tries. "I don't know the reasons, if there were any. Aside from that it was probably just a side project for Nala Se." Finding nothing of interest in the cabinet, much to her disappointment, she pouted a tiny bit as she closed it and then scooted along the counter to try another.
"The Kaminoans specialize in cloning but they also want to turn out perfect...product." She frowns as she says the word. "They didn't want to lose the Empire's business, and with the war over, they wouldn't be paid to produce more soldiers."
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As much as this had revealed about the cloning to Tony, the biggest question he was left with was, "What happened to the fifth?" She had only listed four.
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She wouldn't have fallen off the counter despite the extra stubborn cabinet, but the arch of her back as she leaned away from it could have fooled anyone that she didn't dismiss Tony's sudden appearance at her side to offer support. "...I don't know," she admitted, though she had some suspicions. "It was only those four in the lab. Echo joined the squad later, but he's a reg. -he doesn't know that yet, by the way. I'm not sure how much he knows about...things later on."
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Unless that was the fifth 'enhancement'. Intelligence, strength, girl. Tony watched Omega closely then, like maybe this time he would see something obviously superhuman about her, and mostly she was dusty and struggled too much to open a rusty cabinet to be much of a supersoldier.
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"I can't do anything like the others can, if that's what you're asking. I'm just...me." She shrugs. "A kid. I'm not a soldier. 'Defective', like my brothers. Which I guess isn't really defective so much as different." Her gaze drifted downwards, and she absently patted a hand at a dusty knee.
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"Wait, so, your brothers...?" he prompted, not sure anymore what exactly she meant by that, because there were some social divisions that she kept mentioning that Tony couldn't confidently process. Meanwhile, he reached over to feel along the dust-sealed seam of the cupboard she had been considering, until he popped it open with an effortless nudge to release the pressure.
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"What's your idea of how cloning works?" she asked instead of providing an answer. Obviously it wasn't something held in high regard by either him nor Jon, but maybe it would be easier to answer if she knew just what was going on through that wild mind of his. The freshly opened cabinet door was glanced at with arched brows, but she'd leave Tony to have a look inside as she waited for a response.
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"They're genetically modified to grow at faster rates. When they're my size, they go through military flash training. Full grown, they do battle simulations, and those that make the cut would be assigned to battalions or whatever their first missions might be."
She kicked her legs back and forth, resting dusty hands in her lap. "My brothers, the last time I saw them before everything with the Empire happened was when they were still small. Their enhancements made them different physically aside from in the areas meant to. Wrecker for instance, he now towers over any clone trooper. He can lift a Gonk droid with one arm. Crosshair, he's built exactly the opposite, and his hair's gone kind of gray, and he has a narrow face so he looks a lot older than he is. Tech's probably the only clone trooper I've ever seen who wears goggles all the time. And Hunter, he leaves his hair long, to his shoulders almost, and although aside from the half-skull tattoo covering half his face, he probably would look the most like the regs. Echo is how all clone troopers basically look, otherwise. And they weren't all that friendly towards my brothers. Or me."
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But they were talking about this because Omega had been unclear who exactly she counted as her 'brothers', and calling them 'defective' when they had been deliberately modified was particularly baffling. She had to be the fifth, right? More immediately, Tony abandoned his show of being distracted by the cupboard to demand, "But he's been good? Echo? Just because you know him later doesn't mean you have to put up with anything now."
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"Echo's been fine! He's just been confused about everything. That's fair, I guess. I don't think many saw me around when he was around on Kamino. But he's still a lot nicer than any of the other regs. He lets me go on patrols with him."
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Tony's sudden reaction had her look back over at him, eyes widening a little at the sight of the blood. The lighting here was bad, so maybe rummaging blindly around abandoned cupboards wasn't the smartest thing. Frowning, she scooted closer to reach for his hand. It wasn't a bad injury at least. She just wanted to make sure whatever he'd come into contact with wasn't still stuck. "Is something broken in there? You should be more careful," she said, turning slightly to access one of the pouches on her belt. She pulled out a small bit of cloth that had been neatly folded into a square, shaking it loose before applying it to bleeding fingers.
"Do... I make you uncomfortable? Knowing what I am, asking all these questions every time we're together?" she asked quietly as she worked, putting some pressure to stop the bleeding. "...I don't have answers to everything. But I can't help where I've been from, or who I am now, either. I just want to be treated normally. I miss my brothers, but at least Echo's here. He's not from the same time, but he's still my brother too."
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"What? No," he answered immediately before she had finished her question, which did sound defensive now that he heard his own voice. It might have been possible that he was uncomfortable. He didn't think it was because of Omega, though. On the other hand, at least this much was true: "You're not the only one I ask about. I, uh...I'm just trying to figure out--" True, and could sound very bad out loud. "If something goes wrong, I don't want to be surprised."
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No one had ever asked her so many questions, but no one seemed to suspect that she was also a clone, just some random kid traveling with a ragtag if strange looking batch of them. She didn't much like being interrogated, especially when it seemed like none of her answers seemed to satisfy.
"What are you expecting to go wrong?" she asked, glancing at him.
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"We're from entirely different planets, and this one is constantly trying to get us to crack under the pressure. The last thing I want while I'm dealing with whatever new disaster develops on the ground, is to find out that your head comes off when you're scared. I'd much rather know that now, you can see how that would make it difficult for me to focus."
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"Does your head come off when you get scared?" Omega asked as she continued to look for whatever had bit Tony. "You feeling all right? How's your fingers? Hopefully whatever bit you wasn't poisonous." She wasn't quite sure what was living in this cupboard, but she supposed she shouldn't have been any more surprised that things might be hanging about in here at all.
"I'm human, just like you." A beat. "You are human, aren't you?"
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"I'm great, always. Head's still secure," he reported, then smirked with a nudge against her back. "You see, you don't know. We're not even from the same universe, as far as we know. What I think of as human could be entirely different. But no, the only thing you may refer to be as is 'invincible'. Unless you're talking to a cute gal and want to do me a favour, then you may also suggest 'handsome'."
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