Orbit

[in_extremis]

WHO: Tony, Jon and Omega
WHERE: Above and below Temba
WHAT: Tony just trying to keep it together now that he's made the moon scream, apparently.
WHEN: During the SCREAM event
WARNINGS: Event-related traumas might occur. Alcoholism mention at the top.


a. Before the storm... [For Jon]
There had to be only so many times Tony could make this apology before Jon stopped accepting it. In fact, Tony might run out of stuff he could possibly give Jon before he was done making all of his apologies, because his replicator charges went quickly to an ever growing list of necessary components, and the local gift shop had really atrocious service. Jon never even seemed particularly appeased by the flowers. Maybe because they weren't roses. Tony should have gotten Felwinter making more of them.

Apologizing to Cayde for the disastrous Prime thing was much easier--he'd had to make a lot less apologies to the Exo, that line still had some slack, and the pool table had almost been finished before Tony had been distracted by the next incredibly pressing bolt of inspiration. The biggest challenge here was that it had left Tony standing, alone, in the middle of the Deep End, surrounded by the parts that needed some assembly, and a very different kind of distraction standing proudly along the bar. Maybe if he brought one of those bottles to Jon, it would solve both of his problems at once.

He was standing outside the library by the time he realized what an awful idea that was, some distance and fresh air between him and the bar bringing a terrible clarity that left him sitting on the cold step and rolling the pilfered bottle between both hands to watch the liquid roil. If Jon had wanted a bottle, he could have gone to the Deep End himself. Tony would just have to bring this one back to the forge, ruminate on a better apology, maybe not come out again until he had built himself into a someone worth forgiving. The mist starting to gather along the roads in wispy, damp patches was making Tony feel like it was already too late, so much like the cold dew heralding the sharp, unforgiving crest of the morning sun.

The weight that had grown steadily heavier in his pocket wasn't supposed to feel like an apology, and if he didn't figure this out before this dark night was through, it might end up yet another ring in his most shameful collection.

b. Gathering clouds... [For Omega]
There was an unfamiliar focus to this storm that Tony couldn't help but take personally. The others that he had experienced had been so chaotic; as if designed to separate them, and designed to hurt them. The stillness of this one felt intentional, like Tony was meant to reflect on what he had done, cut off from the expansive distraction that was Extremis, trapped in his own head with only the rumble of thunder to fill any of the space.

And that awful scream.

Staring at the moon, hideous enough to the naked eye and no more revealing under telescope, hadn't told him much about how he was meant to fix this problem he had caused, unfortunately. It had just left him very exposed for when that noise came again, making the nanoweb jump out of his skin and leaving him feeling like he was tangled in his own bones, and sending the plates of the armor crashing around the forge erratically. He had to take his investigation out of that danger zone, trying to plot what the moon might have been distracting from. Those figures that appeared looked so much like the holograms that had been at the fair, but it was gone, an empty field with no more to tell. The light in the distance continued to blink, and the one atop the tower continued to be dark.

And what of those strange tunnels? That wasn't a place Tony had investigated for himself yet at all, trusting Cal's reports of the spiders and their strange cages. But if they were part of this whole system, there to spring more tortures on them, maybe they had more terrible secrets. Maybe that was where the projections were coming from.

It did look very dark down that ladder, though. The flash of lightning bursting across Tony's vision only made the darkness deeper in the afterimage.

Comments

beeee

[small_compromise]

Omega knew storms, although mostly from the secure, solid if sterile form of Tipoca City's reinforced structures. The skies were always so dark beyond the windows, rain and waves lashing up onto the platforms and making everything blurry as things raged outside and lightning split the skies with brilliance. Even then, she'd never been in them.

This phenomenon wasn't anything she would have registered as a storm. It was quiet, and although there were clouds and the occasional rumble of thunder, it was so oddly still. That was what unsettled her, that stillness. Even for all the solitude Tipoca City exhibited at times, it was never quite like this. It felt...anxious to her, somehow. Like something was waiting to happen.

It never occurred to her that it might be dangerous going out alone like this. She meant to look for Echo, or anyone she knew, really. Her energy bow was slung on her back, the bag she'd sewn together with Shiro at the faire holding her beefy Tooka plush. Some company was better than nothing, after all.

How she found herself in the dark tunnels below the city was anyone's guess, Lula long since having been pulled from its matching bag to held close as Omega beamed her torch about the dank space. She was certain she'd seen her brother come down here, though for whatever reason, she couldn't fathom. But surely there had to be one.

"Echo...?" she called out, her voice doing just that, ringing hollowly through the abandoned corridors.

[in_extremis]

The voice came just as Tony had convinced himself that dropping down into the dark was a ridiculous, impulsive decision, and he couldn't start being impulsive, that wasn't in his programming, he could come back some other time with a light. It made him freeze, staring down into the hole, eyes darting like he could see anything. "Omega? Is that you?" he called back, though he didn't really need the confirmation; he would know that voice anywhere, or at least in any situation she was calling out while wandering around strange and unknown territory. They had to stop meeting like this. What Tony really wanted to know was, "What are you doing down there?"

Not that the answer would change the fact that he was already impulsively scrambling down the ladder. There might have been one, tiny little impulsive subroutine buried in his code, and it might be able to override some other traits he totally didn't have, like very irrational fears of the dark and cockroaches.

[small_compromise]

The voice that responded wasn't one that Omega expected, although it wasn't necessarily an unwelcome one. "Tony?" she called out, hesitant at first, but the question that followed chased away some of the anxiousness of being alone. She turned, looking around as she sought out where he was.

"It's me- I...I thought I saw Echo come down here," she said, sounding a little less sure of herself as she admitted it.

[in_extremis]

It was definitely exactly as dark as Tony was afraid of down here, leaving him immediately feeling disoriented and looking up at the hole of grey light he had left behind to stand in the damp underground. On the bright side, the New York sewers were definitively a worse experience, and he had survived those enough times. In order to navigate, though, he was going to have to rely on senses other than sight, and had to steel himself, holding his breath, with a hand raised to touch to the slimy wall, even with his sleeve pulled over his fingers.

Only Omega's voice spurned him rapidly forward, feeling his way toward it. "What--you're not with him?" he called back, which was another question with an obvious answer, but mostly he needed her to keep talking to be able to track her down and didn't want to directly tell her that this was the flawed system they were working with, and partially he meant, like, in general. He had kind of been trusting Echo to keep that part of this disaster managed.

[small_compromise]

Light flickered from one of the adjoining tunnels ahead as Omega started towards where she thought she'd heard him, sweeping her torch about.

"No, I was heading to his outpost to see if he was there, but then I thought I saw him come this way," she said, hugging Lula tighter. Which was probably silly in hindsight, she thought. Why would Echo have come down here? But then she had been so certain she'd seen him...or someone who looked like him. "The weather's strange, isn't it? I've never seen anything like it."

[in_extremis]

It was unsettling enough that they might see people they knew from home, where the trickery might have an obvious tell, so the suggestion that one of these illusions could be the image of someone already here to disorient them made Tony pause in his anxiety, watching the strange flicker of the light. Was that really Omega he was hearing?

Haltingly, trying to fashion his confidence as he spoke, so either Omega didn't hear that anxiety, or the illusion didn't notice the change, he offered, "A little strange. Sure. Yeah." He could try actually saying something, that would be more convincing. "It's just fog. Clouds on the ground. Cold and wet, all you need." He cleared his throat, feeling his way toward that flickering light, and pressed, "What about the animal? That's not with you, is it?"

[small_compromise]

"Animal? The other Tony, you mean?" she clarified, as there weren't too many other animals she'd been particularly close to, and surely Tony hadn't meant the big pile of rocks. "He's not here. I don't know where he went. Maybe he's hiding in the library with his brothers and sisters."

The light bounced a bit along with the sound of quickening footsteps, and soon she emerged from the adjoining tunnel, the light beaming one way then right at Tony. He might not be able to see it, but upon seeing him, Omega smiled with relief as she hurried over, unaware of any hesitance and anxiety that the man bore from fresh paranoia.

[in_extremis]

If this was a figment of Tony's imagination, it would know just as well as he did that the mothcats had all seemed to vacate the library as the storm hit. Right? He wasn't feeling any more confident as that light swung around and dazzled him, making him throw a hand up and squint against the sudden flare, and leaving him more blind than ever as he had to decide how much of a threat those little footsteps rushing toward him were. Before he had decided anything, he had already stumbled a few cautious steps back, and the hand he pushed out with his fingers splayed might have looked like he was trying to ward off that blinding light.

"Izzat you, Stardust? It's okay, I didn't need to see, overrated," he tried to feel out lightly.

[small_compromise]

To be fair, the girl didn't even know this was a storm, and no one said anything about animals taking cover from it. She'd been nowhere near the library to check on her fuzzy patrolmate, which was probably why she opted for bringing the stuffed one.

"-oh! Sorry!" Omega blurted as she saw him squinting and waving his hand about. She redirected her torch towards the floor as she continued towards him. "Yes, it's me! Were you looking for someone down here too?"

[in_extremis]

This was the least threatening ghost Tony could imagine, really; not nearly as horrible as those running, chattering things, and nothing like the horrors he had seen after their ships had crashed. As his eyes adjusted, he could see that she looked pretty normal, too, aside from that...weird thing she was carrying around, which Tony would not take responsibility for conjuring. His shoulders finally dropped with relief, enough so that he quickly met her in the middle to scoop her up from the dank ground in a protective hold against his hip. "No, ah--no, kind of--" he started, trying to decide how transparent to be about the situation, and taking a deep breath in the meantime. Time to stall.

"You stink," he observed, "How long have you been down here? No wonder Echo's keeping his distance, geez. Hey, you ever had a bubble bath? I got something for you."

Flapping his free hand like Omega had been the one to distract them, he continued quickly as he decided, "Those fake people who were at the renaissance fair were showing up again, and I thought maybe the thing that was making them could be down here."

[small_compromise]

Maybe it was his relief that helped the rest of her own anxiety bleed away. As she was picked up, Omega gladly clung on to him in a hug, sandwiching Lula between them. She never liked being alone, and the fog and the quiet had made it all the worse.

"Bubble bath..?" The wrinkle of her nose at being told she stunk gave way to puzzlement, although she still gave him a bit of a pout. "...maybe Echo wouldn't be down here after all. He always complains about smells." At least the grumpy one she knew.

Fake people... It took her a moment to figure out what he was referring to. "The projections? Why are you looking for them?"

[in_extremis]

That wasn't something Tony knew about Echo, making him chuckle in surprise, giving Omega his own puzzled frown. "Does he? Is that what the helmet is for then?" he wondered.

With a glance back the way he had come, then forward again with a determined sigh and pursed lips, he explained, "I never figured out where the projection was coming from. It's light, it has to be from somewhere. It's cloudy now, though, and there's still...some around, so it can't be from the sky. From below then, right?" It sounded rational to Tony, anyway, though that wasn't exactly the question Omega was asking. More stalling. He let her slip back down to the ground and suggested, "You want to help?" She was the one with the forethought to bring a flashlight, after all, and he couldn't exactly rob a little girl and send her on her way.

[small_compromise]

Omega giggled. "Maybe it helps," she shrugged.

As she was set down again, she stuck close, carefully tucking her black and red Tooka into her bag. "I didn't think to look when the faire was still there," she admitted, beaming the light around. "I guess that would make sense though. Something wired underground, you think?"

At his question she looked up at him, nodding. "All right. We're here, after all. And I don't think I want to go back up alone."

aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHH

[beholding_archivist]

The pat pat pat of approaching paws and a gentle prrrt is the only warning Tony gets before the Countess forces herself into his lap with gentle decisiveness, effectively trapping him there, purring loudly.

Jon's own arrival is less elegant. But it's not like he is habitually sneaky but more inclined to make sure people are aware of his presence. Of course he notices the bottle when he opens the door properly to step outside, but he decides not to direct any attention to it. He has called out Tony's habit of buying forgiveness before.

"I am aware that the Countess will disagree with my request, but please just come inside. There is no reason to get yourself sick out here in the cold." He addresses Tony, a frown clear on his face.

[in_extremis]

Even with the Countess herself as his only audience, Tony made a point to look very put out by this development, his arm heavy as she nosed her way under it to get to her chosen seat and his pout pronounced as he stared down at her, restless hands going still as they were so rudely interrupted. Not that she acknowledged any of this performance. Without her, it still wouldn't have been easy for Tony to sneak away when he heard Jon's approach, nowhere to go fast enough before he was spotted in his retreat, so he had to be just as resigned to the sound of the door opening with only his eyes briefly closed to prepare himself for any disappointment Jon was going to make clear.

"I was thinking I might go get a cup of coffee..." he tried to excuse, not yet looking up at Jon and gesturing vaguely in the direction of the diner, though that didn't exactly explain how he had ended up here on that path. With a sigh, he considered the purring mothcat again, then had to clumsily try to fit his arms under her to lift against his chest and get to his feet. She didn't help. "You are too big for this," he muttered around a mouthful of her feathers as she rolled bonelessly into his hold.

[beholding_archivist]

"You may be delighted to hear that we have coffee at home, then." Jon says plainly, with one hand raised roughly to the level of Tony's shoulder to guide him and his feline captor inside. Though he does pluck the bottle of alcohol from Tony's hand since he has them full of mothcat - And to give the bottle a quick look to ensure it's still sealed and nodded some relief at finding it to be so.

"Hm. Everyone's trying to feed me today, it appears." He comments while waiting for Tony to step inside, his eyes dropping down to the mothcat in Tony's arms. "She has been particularly generous today." All of the mothcats are very skilled hunters. And of course they like to share their successes.

[in_extremis]

As much as Tony wanted to hang onto the bottle as like world's most inadvisable security blanket, Jon relieving him of it did make wrangling the mothcat much easier, and he very quickly found he needed to. The mistake he made was looking to Jon with a curious pout to ask if that was what they were doing, 'we' had a home, only to simultaneously be overcome by the fond smile he couldn't seem to help at the sight of Jon, and a shameful guilt for even feeling that way when Jon was clearly still irritated with him. At least gathering the Countess against his shoulder meant he could lean his cheek against her, and it was kind of like hugging Jon, if he was furry and smelled a bit like wet wool.

The suggestion of whatever hunting she had been doing was a quick deterrent from any further hugging, making Tony wrinkle his nose and straighten more rigidly while she continued to purr away, still unbothered by his moods. "There isn't enough of you," he explained for the both of them as they mad their way through the library. "And it's almost spring. Gotta have a lot of energy to take care of the litter."

[beholding_archivist]

Jon takes Tony to the back of the library and down the still somewhat hidden passage to his living space which Tony should be familiar with by now. It's been with his help after all that this place slowly stopped looking like a dungeon. Actual lighting, furniture and a few rugs can do a lot to a basement. Or at the very least the rooms Jon uses for himself. There is still plenty of this underground area left that rather feels like stepping into a bunker.

Still, the moment they reach the basement, they are greeted by the smell of clearly freshly brewed coffee. Because Jon would be brewing coffee when it was already turning night. "I could let you count the actual nests." He offers to Tony while veering off to where the coffee is waiting. "The Countess doesn't have one this year, though some of her kids have returned. Little Tony rarely lets hers out of her sight."

[in_extremis]

The smell of the coffee alone was reassuring, and Tony finally relaxed slightly in the intimate comfort of Jon's space, patting absently at the Countess' back as he wandered toward a seat. It was either that, or his muttered, "Hey, you're a grandmother now," that finally disturbed her enough to cut him off with a hissing, "Ow!" as she dug her claws in for enough leverage and launch herself toward the chair first. He was still irritably rubbing at his shoulder when he processed, "What, Tony's...?" only to trail off as he felt slightly tricked into acknowledging the animal's name, and wasn't sure which part of that news was more surprising. He certainly shouldn't have felt jealous of a big, furry bug when he routinely left his own nest in shambles. "Mazel tov."

With his seat stolen, he went slinking back after Jon, where he leaned one hand against the counter with the other on his popped hip, ankles crossed, putting in a lot of effort to look effortless as he said, "I can't believe I'm going to be outdone by a cat. How many do they usually have, ten? Maybe if we try ten times, it'll take." Without the energy he intended, the proposition came out even more dry than usual.

[beholding_archivist]

Looking up at the little commotion between Tony and the Countess, Jon blinks and watches the mothcat claim Tony's chosen seat for herself. He raises a brow up at Tony, allowing himself a moment to appreciate the pose before pushing a cup of coffee towards the other man. "The Countess had thirty-two eggs." He pauses before adding: "You might want to be careful, Tony. In this place? Chances might actually exist for you to wake up pregnant." And just how much Tony would actually appreciate a potentially magical pregnancy is a whole different topic.

Jon pours himself a cup of coffee as well. "Raising kids comes with a lot of responsibilities. I know you'd literally sacrifice yourself for them." His own or that of any other person, really. And here Jon looks back up at Tony. "But that's hardly ever the solution to any problem. Especially when doing only ends in a slightly different problem or even causes additional ones."

[in_extremis]

That number was more of a threat than a challenge, and Tony had to overcome a brief sputter of surprise before he could effectively school his expression into a smirk and raised eyebrows that said trying for thirty-two orgasms sounded like a great way to die. It only dropped as he was taken aback with a blink and shake of his head at the suggestion that he would be the pregnant one in this scenario, protective hand alighting on his stomach. And ruin this body? Not even the Atroma would be so cruel.

Worse yet, Jon managed to make what Tony thought was an incredibly effective distraction into a direct avenue to the conversation he was trying to avoid. He could still pretend it wasn't happening, starting with taking a long sip of his coffee, gaze rolling over the rim of the cup decidedly away from Jon. "You know, Lark said something really similar, you two should talk, ask her about resurrecting the dead, she'll love it," he suggested, knowing full well how much she would not love that. "She's raised all these kids, but doesn't want any of her own. That's weird, right? She didn't think it was weird," he continued. One of those would stick.

[beholding_archivist]

Jon carefully observes Tony's reaction from the shifting of his expression to the not necessarily subtle hand gesture that brings a tiny smirk to the corner of Jon's mouth. None of this is much of a surprise, including that Tony is trying pretty hard to turn the topic elsewhere.

"I'm fairly certain Lark will agree with me that you should have more trust in Cayde and me." He lowers his own coffee to pointedly make eye contact while raising his brows. "That you should trust me. If you're hurting yourself when I could have helped if you just let me, that's hurting me worse than any physical harm I might suffer."

[in_extremis]

Stubborn bastard. With an irritable huff at the failure of his dazzling distraction, Tony did his best to at least not let Jon pin down that eye contact, watching the mothcat stare back at him instead and feeling rather like he had lost that battle anyway. Dragging his gaze back and putting his own coffee decidedly down, he replied, "I thought I had it under control." He wasn't nearly as convinced that he did anymore, so that made for a much weaker argument than he thought it would out loud, making his resolve crumble and focus drop to his fingers dancing restlessly around the rim of the cup. "I thought I was taking care of it, and it didn't have to be your problem, and you could trust me," he said. "For once." He didn't have a very good track record.

[beholding_archivist]

"It had been my problem ever since Prime introduced himself on the network and I went to confront him." Jon scowls back before his own eyes dropped down with a small pout. "And I did trust you. I trusted that you would trust in us and suddenly you're mortified on the other side of the city!"

A moment of silence follows those words, but the deep frown on Jon's face has become one of concern. "Christ, I was terrified and all I could do was hope we wouldn't be too late." And wrap all that terror up into a neat bundle of rage. Another pause, another admission: "...I'm glad we weren't."

[in_extremis]

Tony was rapidly running out of the room he had to claim that he had every reason to believe he was in control at the time, leaving him with uncomfortably less runway to avoid the apology that was going to be lame and ineffective without anything tangible to offer. Not a gift, and certainly not the assurance that he knew how to behave differently. He was supposed to be able to fix things, before anyone else had to know they were a problem.

"You don't," he corrected. "You don't trust me. You watch me. I'm a liability. I'm not as extraordinary as you, or Cayde, and I try to be worth a fraction of your attention and of course I'm scared when I'm dealing with something that you think is easy--you can go confront Prime, and not tell anyone, and that's not a trust issue, but when I do it I'm scared--I'm scared all the time, I'm scared right now." He had to take a breath, not used to his words fracturing so severely, letting the knuckles he had unconsciously pressed to his heart dig painfully into his skin. It wasn't unfair that they weren't bound by the same rules, it was frustrating and isolating.