revivalproject | Hazy Shade of Winter

Entry tags:

Hazy Shade of Winter

WHO: Lord Felwinter and others
WHERE: Around Temba
WHAT: The warlord keeps busy.
WHEN: Mid to late January
WARNINGS: TBA
NOTES: Will match pose format

The Forge (for Tony)
It was not without some resignation that the warlord made his way towards the edge of the city where the man Tony Stark had laid claim to the local forge. But with such a specific need, one could not be picky, and the man did decent work so far as he could tell. The snowmen out front were however another story.

The trio of shapes seemed haphazardly packed together from the pink snow, heads listing to the side, barely balanced but somehow still remaining in their places. Twigs, rocks and leaves made up the barest of details. Felwinter regarded these strange snow beings that stood sentry not far from the mostly hidden path winding off towards Tony's domain, his Ghost giving a shrug as she floated beside him.

They continued onwards, listening for the telltale sounds that would verify whether Tony was present and at work or not, although Felspring would be able to detect any presences soon enough.

Security Station (Open)
Given how rare it appeared anyone else ventured to the station and its adjacent tower, the snow coating the road out front was hardly traversed, and depending on the most recent snowfall, bore perhaps only one set of fresh tracks.

It wasn't as though the warlord made it well-known where he had chosen to shelter, but he did not expect to receive any guests either- not that it was an easy feat considering the elevator to the topmost floor where he dwelled was non-functional. Despite Wanda's suggestions, he had only gone so far as to fix up one of the offices just below as a more privately enclosed space to rest, although he still hadn't bothered with a bed. He felt better with a wall at his back.

One might catch him coming or going from the station, usually early or later in the day.

Diner (Open)
This wasn't a place Felwinter tended to frequent. It however seemed an ideal place as any to stockpile firewood should anyone need it, and since he was unfamiliar with the methods of how people cooked here, he might also think that they were restricted to cookfires as those back home. There was a neat stack of wood set up just outside the door, and some stacked within against a wall where it wouldn't be in anyone's way.

If one didn't come across the warlord as he carried a fresh load on his back as he returned from the woods, then they might find him piling the logs outside or within.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Felwinter honestly had no answers to give Tony in the previous vein, and it was only becoming frustrating with the man seeming to think that there were. It wasn't a thing anyone asked before. Was it because Exos were just known, back home? Already accepted as people that they all were?

This turn of thought did make him pause again. How much did Stark figure out about him? Or was it a simple puzzle click once Kaz had spoken so indifferently of?

Felspring meanwhile leveled a look at Tony's first response to her question, waiting, and perhaps even surprised when he did actually turn out an actual answer. Even she flicked a look towards Felwinter as Tony did, the Exo lifting his head slightly before turning it towards Tony. Kids were not something he was very acquainted with. That wasn't the point he focused on as the man lapsed in his explanation, and for a good moment or two even after Tony deflected to talk of glitter fountains, both Fels regarded him in silence.

Finally Felwinter picked up where he'd left off with the remaining pieces of the door. "Is that what that is? Livening the place up?" he said with the slightest up-tip of his head in the direction of the glittering mess on the floor.

That was an incredibly awkward pause, making Tony's jaw clench as he tried very hard not to fill the silence with further embarrassing sharing because whatever was on the tip of his tongue could not be trusted. His shoulders dropped with some relief as Felwinter turned back to their project, and he looked around at the indicated mess with some surprise, like he still didn't think it was noticeable enough to remark on. There was more interesting stuff on the floor in the mess of the forge. He was happy to report, though, "Oh, definitely," sweeping over to pluck up one of the balls that so far had been there to trip on and help break a tailbone or two. It was colourful and highly polished, and clearly heavy as Tony gave it a toss and it slapped back down into his hand. "It's for the Hunter," he teased Felspring. "Said he would really get a kick out of me hustling him at pool, and I'm always open to helping people indulge in their pleasures." Okay, Cayde might not have said that exactly, but the Deep End could use one more reason to get fiery over a dirty bet. Tony might even be able to spend some time there now, maybe, as long as the sun was still up.

Staring Stark down had seemed like a cruel thing to do. It had been a different kind of anxiousness that had held the man then, that somehow appeared almost worse than the gun spook. Felwinter glanced up again as the man eagerly shifted gears again, he and his Ghost watching as he went over to pick up one of the balls. Oh, so they weren't explosives of some sort. Felspring rolled her core at Stark's teasing.

"Pool." Felwinter had to think about that one. Clearly Stark wasn't referring to a water sport- the balls looked much too dense for that. Not to mention that Exos probably didn't tread water very well.

All Tony seemed to need to recover properly from his anxiety was that passive-aggressive arc from Felspring, his smirk returning with an impish delight like she had just paid him a compliment. "Pool," he echoed helpfully with another toss of the ball. Maybe now that they had said it three times, all of its mysteries would be revealed. Eventually, he relented and provided, "You know, the game--god, listen, absolute crapshoot what survived into the future with you guys, half the time its like you're from a different planet." They were, technically, but the amount of history that they did share made that distinction irritating. "You've got the balls, here," he illustrated, twisting the one he held between his fingers, but also toeing another one from among the debris of his project to hold at the ready under the ball of his foot, "That you have to hit with the cue," he gestured back toward the stick he had been playing with, still leaning far too away not through the mess against the workbench, "Into a little hole." He rolled the ball on the ground back to kick toward Felwinter, sending it skipping over paper and pinging off of stray bolts in its path to come to a gentle stop between Felwinter's toes.

"I can't say how far the time that spans between us," Felwinter said, looking perhaps mildly peeved. "But from what little I have learned from Ikora, I can say that there is no great city and no Vanguard in my time, not yet." People were too scattered, too preoccupied with trying to survive daily while mad warlords ran rampant, power-hungry and with little other direction. Pre-Golden Age games were the least of anyone's concerns.

And yet there were perhaps tiny bits of Stark's explanation that sounded familiar in some way. Felwinter looked to each of the items as they were pointed out, and then down as the one ball went rolling on its merry way to him. He picked it up, turning it in his hand. His initial directive had been to learn art and culture, but much of those memories were lost as with most Risen. Bits surfaced here and there, fragments if anything at all. "Upon a table," he said thoughtfully. "A geometrical game."

Tony hadn't thought very much about the time between an Earth he knew, and the one it would become for Cayde, skipping all of those boring details straight into the projected future. He raised his eyebrows at the revelation that Felwinter was a fragment of that machine, when there was no city, not even the last one. No wonder he didn't have any friends.

The glimmer of recognition made Tony brighten briefly, gesturing down to the bulk of the disaster at his feet that clearly was a nascent table, the screws and flat panels and glittering pulp of it, "That's the one. I knew you'd love it." Felwinter wasn't allowed to decide for himself just how much he loved pool because Tony was quickly continuing, "Where did you get your stuff?" It was evident that he didn't come from a primitive culture, but it didn't sound like a cohesive society with the power to manufacture a shotgun like the one spread out on the bench to Tony. Maybe because he was stuck in the middle of it, but it was sounding to Tony like Felwinter made a lateral move when he came to Temba.

Ah, it was all beginning to come together. Felwinter regarded the parts of a table thoughtfully, his optics narrowing just slightly at Tony's quip, but he let it go. Maybe he'd give it a try whenever the madman was finished with it all.

"Stuff?" He almost frowned, a helpless glance given Felspring's way to find her giving a shrug before she cast a look back at the workbench across the glitter field. "...that one, I am not familiar with in make. But there are plenty of old bunkers laden with weapons from the Golden Age." Most of them had been cracked open and scavenged, but he and Felspring had found some well-hidden and untouched.

That made it sound like Tony's guess was pretty close, and he raised his eyebrows then frowned with concern to muse, "That doesn't sound very safe." Though, maybe for an Exo it wasn't so bad, and he wouldn't be susceptible to some long-dormant chemical weapon. In general, it was probably an environment that any of the fleshy humans survived by pure luck. "You don't...aren't you effected by radiation? What if you triggered some massive electromagnetic cascade?"

"No, not safe," Felwinter agreed. "They've found the way into many warlords hands. They are already practically immortal, and with weapons they only further abuse their power and take advantage of the defenseless." There was enough of an edge in his tone to underline his disapproval of how things had turned out. Unfortunately when the Traveler had sent out its Ghosts, there hadn't been any set rules in how to use the power and second chances gifted to those who became the Risen.

"There was no radiation." Admittedly it wasn't something he'd given thought to when they'd done their searching. "And if there was, then there wouldn't be much left to threaten." It sounded cold but it was true. Settlements were sparse and the bunkers they'd found were likely built in remote areas from the start. "Most of these bunkers held firearms or computer systems."

Maybe Tony had misjudged the primitive thing, 'warlords' didn't exactly sound like an advanced social structure, and he might have been too generous about what kinds of bunkers there were to be found by them. More private, bespoke bunkers like the rash of them in the Cold War, not just institutional ones. "You're not, though," Tony had to clarify, free hand out flat to level their understanding. "Practically immortal, well armed, but not a warlord."

"I never claimed to be," the reluctant warlord said. The last piece of the door paneling was sealed. He looked down at the massive thing before looking over his shoulder to where to was to be installed.

"Others saw me as such. I have killed warlords, but not in search of power. The people of the village at the foot of the mountain I claimed from one such warlord deemed me their protector- his replacement."

"Oh, okay," Tony said lightly, tossing his ball again and tucking his other hand into his pocket like he really was just going to accept this explanation. "So, just, on every level, just not--" his hand jumped out again immediately, to twirl by his temple, "emotionally."

The Exo looked at him silently before he stepped around the edge of the door, stooping down to wedge his fingers beneath its edge. He levered it up carefully, bracing his shoulder against it once it stood almost parallel to him.

"Warlords are not normally interested in helping people. I want to find a way to make things better for those who cannot protect themselves. Felspring says that weapons are not the answer."

That door should not have been that easy to pick up, and Tony realized he may not have properly accounted for just how strong the Exos could be in its design, and also that he maybe shouldn't have been antagonizing this one so much. "That's very astute of you, Felspring," he muttered, tossing the ball down into the glittery pile that would become the table top to direct the door once more. "Sounds like you're lucky you got paired up." There was clearly some system in place for how these arrangement were made, but that might have been as offensive as suggesting that Cayde's horn had a purpose.

Tony gestured for Felwinter to manoeuvre his load into place against the cradle, eventually hanging onto the edge of the door himself but not actually doing much to take any of the weight of it, and sweeping down as they went to knock things out of the way or collect strewn around tools that were going to help him. The metal tipped against the wall with a shudder that ran through the building, knocking dust out of its cracks all the way to the ceiling, and blocking out the sunlight bouncing brightly off of the snow to leave Tony squinting in the low light of the fire. Only for a moment, and only through one cough before he was instructing with incredible confidence, "Down," for Felwinter to crouch for him and let Tony climb up onto his knee to reach over the top of the door.

Luck. The two Fels shared a glance. Neither felt that luck had anything to do with it, but the Traveler hadn't left much instructions for Ghosts, even if Felspring said it had told her whom to choose. "I do consider myself fortunate to have her with me," Felwinter said, and he did mean it.

The door was still massive enough to be an awkward thing to move, but it was managed with Tony's directing. The Exo tilted his head inquisitively at the man's instruction, but he stooped down, wishing that perhaps more of his intention would have been made known as he found himself being used as a stepping stool. His Ghost held back a laugh, drifting up to offer some light for Tony if he needed it.

"That's it, sweetheart, we're almost done," Tony cooed while he worked, and it might have been a sign of his appreciation for the help from his guests except that he was clearly talking to the door itself. His tone was not nearly as affectionate when he directed it at Felwinter and demanded, "What's with the coat, then?" It had quickly become much less cold in the forge with the gap blocked and the heat of the fire seeping back into all of the dark corners, but Felwinter's metal wasn't warming up quickly under Tony's toes. Tony did at least murmur some context into his work, "If radiation isn't a problem..."

Felwinter stared hard at Stark's feet before lifting his head to eye the man. "I feel it suits me. Should I be questioning your own attire?" Even with mention of the radiation from earlier, he couldn't pick out a solid line of reasoning.

He shifted beneath the man's feet, certainly intentional given how statue-still he'd been capable of standing. "Do you have something against me, Tony Stark?"

Edited 2022-02-04 22:35 (UTC)

Either the shifting or the question finally got Tony to look down at his unwilling stepstool with a pout and pinch of a frown. "If I didn't care for you, Icicle, I wouldn't care about your coat," he pointed out, though maybe he could see how being wilfully annoying and peppering Felwinter with questions would seem inhospitable. And the standing on him thing, that might be a little rude. Luckily, it was about time for Tony to step down anyway, so he could at least do Felwinter that courtesy to move along to the bolts at the side of the door, and maybe his lingering pout could have been interpreted as an apology. "Most of the synthetics I know don't wear any clothes at all," he said. "I know Cayde does, but he--he eats noodles, too, he's got all these hangups, he used to be a meatbag."

He was all at once wary again, not that the wariness ever dissipated completely, watching Stark as the man got down. The Exo slowly got to his own feet again, deliberate as a snake rising from its coils. Felspring drifted back down beside him.

"...but you don't question him, not like this," Felwinter said steadily.

That might have been true, but a) there were plenty more possible reasons for that than Tony having 'something against' Felwinter and b) "What makes you say that?" Now they were wary at each other, Tony's eyes narrowed and busy hands paused to consider what Felwinter had just told him. "You watch us," he put out plainly for all of them, so they could all consider whether or asking directly or stalking was the bigger asshole move that they should be interrogating.

Ideally, that was enough to drop it, because they didn't need to talk about Tony's stalking.

"A presumption." Which was true. But then so was the accusation. Felwinter met Stark's eyes.

"I am not the first," he said. The means had already been in place. He said nothing more, not unless Stark wanted to be forthcoming in his own activities.

This whole place was designed to watch them, so that wasn't exactly news. The least Felwinter could do was be a little guilty about it, like all of the perfectly normal control freaks in the room. Under that intent gaze, Tony felt he had to offer defensively, "You don't have to stick around if this isn't your kind of party." He tossed his head back to the workbench, and the business Felwinter was supposed to be here for, and said, "You're missing a piece. It'll take me a while to fire it." It wouldn't, really, but Felwinter didn't need to know that if it gave Tony more time to study the shotgun. Unless he really wanted to press his voyeuristic streak and call Tony on the bluff.

Felwinter didn't really care how long it would take so long as he had a working shotgun by the end of it. He did continue to stare the man down, of course, as though he could peel away whatever layers of secrecy Stark ducked behind with his redirections.

Finally the warlord turned, walking back to where he'd laid down his helmet to retrieve it. Whether the faceless visor was an improvement or not over the burning optics was up for debate as he turned it back towards the man.

"Let me know when it is finished. I'll return then."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hazy Shade of Winter

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject