Tony Stark (
in_extremis) wrote in
revivalproject2022-04-15 01:35 pm
Casework
WHO: Tony, Jon, searching-for-a-jail exploration party
WHERE: The library and a strange, gated community
WHAT: It's been agreed what is to be done with Beck by committee. We'll see how well that goes.
WHEN: A little while after the community discussion
WARNINGS: idk yet.
a. Processing [for Jon]
Plenty of frustration did translate into plenty getting done, a cacophony of noise throughout the library as Tony dug up floors and sawed through walls to redirect the wiring through the workspace Jon had presented him with. How useful any of that accomplishment was felt directly proportional to how well Tony could actually focus on it. If the work was too easy, it was obvious to him that it was a monumental waste of time, a plain selfish distraction that probably wouldn't even amount to anything if he was snatched out of this place at any second, or they were collectively sent to live on another planet at the whims of their voyeurs. It didn't matter that Tony had a space to work if none of that work ever helped anyone. Then he had another lens to tune and he had to curl over it intently, letting the background noise of the network and his watchful D.A.T.A. units flood the dark corners of his attention.
It was after much too long of this banging and crashing, that did very much transform the room in the basement, that Tony realized he had not only been not helpful, but actively disruptive the entire time he was directing his energy into this work. If he was going to help the way he thought he was supposed to be now, he could at least start in his own house.
Another stretch of silence permeated the library, letting the mothcats nervously settle once again. It would be another hour before Tony came wandering through, still dusty down his front from his construction, but carrying a tray adorned with a handful of new buds pulled from the spring growth outside, and searching for Jon.
b. Probing [for ADVENTURE!]
"This is it?"
It felt like kind of a weird area for a prison. It was kind of a weird area in general, leaving Tony feeling uneasily boxed in between the building that grew a flower that tried to eat him, an unsettling cemetery, the tower looming over them dark and unblinking, and this tall fence that they were confronted with. It certainly didn't look welcoming, but that building down the road looked more like a mansion than a bunker, throwing the severe angles of this one into particular relief. It had been Echo's call, so Tony looked to him with a raised eyebrow and added, "And you've never been inside?" Maybe it wasn't the best idea to bring Echo along. He didn't exactly look his best self, and Tony wasn't even sure where his prosthetics began or the meat ended, should they run into trouble like that flower thing.
"If we're going to use it as a jail," he started to propose cautiously, swinging back a few steps away from the fence and pulling the helmet of the Iron Man back on, distorting his voice as he continued, "we should maybe consider that the fence is not there to keep us out, but to keep something in." Not that he meant to discourage anyone. Just prepare them for hungry flora. It was already well overgrown, vines climbing up the walls and snarled through the fences, dead and woody yet in the spring chill. Even with just a few intrepid green sprouts where the sun lingered the longest, there were a lot of places for a threat to hide.
WHERE: The library and a strange, gated community
WHAT: It's been agreed what is to be done with Beck by committee. We'll see how well that goes.
WHEN: A little while after the community discussion
WARNINGS: idk yet.
a. Processing [for Jon]
Plenty of frustration did translate into plenty getting done, a cacophony of noise throughout the library as Tony dug up floors and sawed through walls to redirect the wiring through the workspace Jon had presented him with. How useful any of that accomplishment was felt directly proportional to how well Tony could actually focus on it. If the work was too easy, it was obvious to him that it was a monumental waste of time, a plain selfish distraction that probably wouldn't even amount to anything if he was snatched out of this place at any second, or they were collectively sent to live on another planet at the whims of their voyeurs. It didn't matter that Tony had a space to work if none of that work ever helped anyone. Then he had another lens to tune and he had to curl over it intently, letting the background noise of the network and his watchful D.A.T.A. units flood the dark corners of his attention.
It was after much too long of this banging and crashing, that did very much transform the room in the basement, that Tony realized he had not only been not helpful, but actively disruptive the entire time he was directing his energy into this work. If he was going to help the way he thought he was supposed to be now, he could at least start in his own house.
Another stretch of silence permeated the library, letting the mothcats nervously settle once again. It would be another hour before Tony came wandering through, still dusty down his front from his construction, but carrying a tray adorned with a handful of new buds pulled from the spring growth outside, and searching for Jon.
b. Probing [for ADVENTURE!]
"This is it?"
It felt like kind of a weird area for a prison. It was kind of a weird area in general, leaving Tony feeling uneasily boxed in between the building that grew a flower that tried to eat him, an unsettling cemetery, the tower looming over them dark and unblinking, and this tall fence that they were confronted with. It certainly didn't look welcoming, but that building down the road looked more like a mansion than a bunker, throwing the severe angles of this one into particular relief. It had been Echo's call, so Tony looked to him with a raised eyebrow and added, "And you've never been inside?" Maybe it wasn't the best idea to bring Echo along. He didn't exactly look his best self, and Tony wasn't even sure where his prosthetics began or the meat ended, should they run into trouble like that flower thing.
"If we're going to use it as a jail," he started to propose cautiously, swinging back a few steps away from the fence and pulling the helmet of the Iron Man back on, distorting his voice as he continued, "we should maybe consider that the fence is not there to keep us out, but to keep something in." Not that he meant to discourage anyone. Just prepare them for hungry flora. It was already well overgrown, vines climbing up the walls and snarled through the fences, dead and woody yet in the spring chill. Even with just a few intrepid green sprouts where the sun lingered the longest, there were a lot of places for a threat to hide.

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