revivalproject | Indictment

WHO: Absolutely everyone.
WHERE: The diner.
WHAT: A decision has to made about threats to the community.
WHEN: After an attempted murder, a chaotic rescue, and an awkward reunion. Now.
WARNINGS: Nothing yet. Mark it if something comes up because...
NOTES: Structurally, this is a mingle, so you can decide what part of this is actually important to you. What you talk about in here doesn't have to be directly Beck-related, but for details about the incident, further organizing, and if you want to determine what your characters might have done/seen/heard in the meantime, this post is still good!

[NETWORK//text @ everyone]

Come to the diner. We have to talk.
If you don't show up, I'll assume you agree with me because you're incredibly intelligent and graceful. The city of Temba thanks you for your contribution to our justice system.

This was the last thing Tony wanted to do. The diner at least felt familiar, neutral--somewhere he could be in control, without having all of the attention on him. Being able to bask in the attention would have been so much easier. As it was, that felt like he would be inviting everyone to really examine the cracks in the armor. They were here because he had already lost control.

As if that didn't already feel enough like an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, Tony found himself standing in a circle of seats that he had arranged, the tables pushed up against the walls, and couldn't honestly say how much that had been intentional. He raised a lip, and looked to Felwinter as though he would have any illuminating insight about productive interior design. He seemed like he wanted to be here even less than Tony did. Beck was his charge for the time being, though, and as awkward as it was to stand in his stupid chair-circle with the pair of them, Tony did appreciate having Felwinter there to keep an eye on their...problem. Even if having witnesses to his restless energy made it all the more humiliating. Felwinter couldn't sit on Beck forever just to make sure he didn't lure anyone else off the edge of a cliff, so they were all going to have to survive a little humiliation.

"I think the coffee's done," Tony declared, with absolutely no idea what state the coffee was actually in and readily moving toward the kitchen regardless. "Do you want one? I'll get you one. Do you do that sort of...?" He was still talking, and what Felwinter did or didn't eat and drink might have otherwise been something Tony pushed him about, but he was already mentally in the kitchen and trailed off as he went, flapping a hand to wave off any refusal of his offer or explanation about Felwinter's digestive situation. Maybe he would just stay in the kitchen and listen, let Beck hang himself.

Tony took a deep breath, pushing his sunglasses up his nose and squaring his shoulders, readying himself for a performance.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Despite his smarting shoulder, Tony was glad to let Catra indulge in a rare hug, and didn't quite let her pull away entirely, making a production of smoothing her hair to keep her head in both hands. "I'm invincible," he assured her. "If you couldn't kill me, no one can."

While he did expect Catra's solution to the problem of vaguely not liking someone was probably a casual murder, drowning seemed extreme enough that Tony couldn't hide a grimace before he tried, "I should probably have dibs. When someone lets you fall off a cliff, you'll be in charge of what we do about them."

She snorted in amusement, and was glad to be denied pulling away completely, though she made a show of squirming.

"That's fair I guess," Catra accepted, looking him over, "...so how come you are...dead?"

That was a very fair question that Tony did not have a great answer to, but he pursed his lips and raised a brow like Catra was being deliberately obtuse. "I've had worse falls. You think that's all it takes?" he said. Then he softened slightly, admitting a shrug with a cautious glance around for anyone who might be close enough to hear before coaxing Catra off to the side, further from earshot.

"D'you know--that day we went to the hospital, Prime had threatened you with a knife. Do you remember that? You knew everything that was happening, right?" he asked.

For a moment she thought that was all she was going to get, full prepared with a sarcastic come back when Tony pulled her aside.

She looked up at him with a more serious expression that she normal wore, tail swishing slowly, and she nodded. "I remember," she confirmed, "What does that have to do with what happened to you though?"

Tony raised a palm to wave, impatiently requesting patience, so he could elaborate, "Do you know what he did with the knife? I haven't seen it since. It just disappeared." He turned his hand up then, eyebrows raised expectantly, hoping she was starting to follow where he was going. Unless she did have an answer for him.

"It-" Catra paused and frowned. It couldn't have just- She tried to mentally play back the events, palming over the cracked chip.

"They took it?" she concluded uncertainly. If they could interfere like that then why did they need them at all? And why did they let them get hurt? Where did they draw the line??

"I'm starting to think so," Tony agreed. If she didn't have it, and Cayde and Jon didn't know what might have happened to it, there was always another party they could count on to be watching. Just like they must have been watching Tony fall. "Something caught me," he finally admitted. "I fell for a while, and then there were--like--ropes, but then they were gone, just like the knife."

"...If they can do that why do they need us at all???" Catra demanded, getting a little heated at the thought. Why were they playing these games with their lives??

That wasn't the kind of energy that Tony needed anyone else to have today, this discussion was going to be hard enough without the further confusion of the existential problem of what they were doing on this planet to face, so he raised his hands again to try to shush Catra before she started complaining any louder, then flicked a finger between them with his lips pressed tightly together. This was their secret. Kind of. The kind that Tony could tell, and Catra couldn't, until Tony figured out what it meant.

"I don't think they've ever really needed us," he could answer for her. "Not like that. If this theory is true, if they can just decide to take away knives or stop a fall, then I think that's just more proof that this whole thing is a performance."

Catra put on a brief pout, but nearly dying earned Tony a little less talk-back. At least for a day or two.

She huffed but nodded, trying to find her calm.

"When are you going to tell people?" They couldn't tell now, fine. They needed to deal with this guy. But they'd tell eventually, right?

That...was harder to answer. Tony pressed his lips together again, this time to blow out a sigh of frustration and reply, "I don't know--eventually. When I can figure out what happened. It was hard to see down there, it was dark, and--I couldn't find any of the device that stopped my fall. If I can go back down, maybe I can figure something out, something more concrete."

"Can I come too?"

She didn't try to talk him out of it at least, even looked excited at the idea as long as no one was plummeting to their deaths.

There was no way that wouldn't end with losing Catra in the mines, so Tony frowned back at her enthusiasm, searching her face like he was hoping to find any sign that she could be trusted when released in the dark so this didn't have to become an argument. Lying could also avoid that outcome. "Sure. You'll be the first to know when I've got the time. How about, this sounds like a fair trade, you try to find out where that knife went in the meantime?" he suggested.

Perhaps foolishly, she trusted him, nodding easily. She wanted to find that part out for herself too.

"I'll see what I can find," she promised.

Indictment

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