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)
revivalproject2022-07-02 10:21 pm
in_extremis) wrote in revivalproject2022-07-02 10:21 pm
Mesh
WHO: You, your favourite person, your least favourite person, and someone you've never met. Open!
WHERE: The library garden, Temba
WHAT: Putting the plants in order, for fun and...fun. Tony's been building a hedge maze.
WHEN: A lovely summer evening.
WARNINGS: Mark it if you get nasty. This is an open invitation function, and the sheriff can't stop all of you at once.
NETWORK // un: ironman // TEXT
Come to the library. Try to find your way out.
It's better with a hand to hold.
What was supposed to be a much more gradual project had rapidly become unmanageable. After being released back into the sunlight, Tony was sure he was going to return to a yard that was parched and languishing without care. He had never been much of a botanist, if he could help it. What he found instead was a snarl of plants that were threatening to take over any progress he had made on this project, while he transformed the room in the library basement into his workshop and repurposed the gutted parts, and beating the stems and petals back was only getting him so far. The ring he had been carrying around, telling himself he needed just the right place to reveal it, might have still been missing, but this garden was not going to tolerate being tamed for long.
Even on the terrace wrapping the back of the library, the greenery broke through the flagstones in wild tufts of grass and thorny weeds that had to be hacked back. Much of it now was burning sweetly in the firepit, ringed by the last of the intact stone benches that were found here. Maybe sitting under them was more comfortable, though, like the few, cuddling mothcats that could be found there, because the benches were clearly Agrii design. The yard back here was braced in by a few tall trees along the edges of the property, obscuring most of the road beyond and sending fluttering seedpods skipping across the stones with every summer breeze.
Dominating the space now was a maze. It was imposing, particularly in low light, after the sun had set and Tony had sent his cryptic message. Not much could be seen peering into the structure from the entrance; the depths darkened rapidly, and the first path to choose came quickly. Flanking the entrance were torches, though, and with them baskets of lumpy, oily candles that could be lit on the flickering braziers to carry into the dark, and become floating points of light that whispered past each other in the soft grass and between the fragrant, lusciously flowering walls of the maze. Even now, the branches and vines that determined the structure seemed to be stretching voraciously, leaving beds of petals where they had crashed into each other, and sneaking across the paths to catch uncritical toes. Even experienced maze-solvers might find some challenges within, with some tricks of the eye and secret doors to discover, but they might also find there was no rush to the exit; the myriad blind alleys and cul-de-sacs weren't simply dead ends. In one, a set of swings, flat wooden boards hung close to each other and maybe tall enough to peek over the maze wall with an enthusiastic enough push. In another, a shallow pond, thick with small flowers that swam over the surface of the water that glowed eerily. A particularly lucky and industrious explorer might find a puzzle box, waiting patiently in a nest of purple sand, that rattled when shook. There was definitely something in there. What else might be hidden in the dark?* Around only a few corners, the whole experience might be over, breaking back into the open garden of the library from a surprising nook just a few steps away from the inviting entrance to the maze. It would probably be better not to get too impatient.
*Feel free to make up some fun, weird stuff, I'm sure we can all be cool. If you're really not sure and need me to say yes, you can dm here or @ me on discord.
WHERE: The library garden, Temba
WHAT: Putting the plants in order, for fun and...fun. Tony's been building a hedge maze.
WHEN: A lovely summer evening.
WARNINGS: Mark it if you get nasty. This is an open invitation function, and the sheriff can't stop all of you at once.
NETWORK // un: ironman // TEXT
Come to the library. Try to find your way out.
It's better with a hand to hold.
What was supposed to be a much more gradual project had rapidly become unmanageable. After being released back into the sunlight, Tony was sure he was going to return to a yard that was parched and languishing without care. He had never been much of a botanist, if he could help it. What he found instead was a snarl of plants that were threatening to take over any progress he had made on this project, while he transformed the room in the library basement into his workshop and repurposed the gutted parts, and beating the stems and petals back was only getting him so far. The ring he had been carrying around, telling himself he needed just the right place to reveal it, might have still been missing, but this garden was not going to tolerate being tamed for long.
Even on the terrace wrapping the back of the library, the greenery broke through the flagstones in wild tufts of grass and thorny weeds that had to be hacked back. Much of it now was burning sweetly in the firepit, ringed by the last of the intact stone benches that were found here. Maybe sitting under them was more comfortable, though, like the few, cuddling mothcats that could be found there, because the benches were clearly Agrii design. The yard back here was braced in by a few tall trees along the edges of the property, obscuring most of the road beyond and sending fluttering seedpods skipping across the stones with every summer breeze.
Dominating the space now was a maze. It was imposing, particularly in low light, after the sun had set and Tony had sent his cryptic message. Not much could be seen peering into the structure from the entrance; the depths darkened rapidly, and the first path to choose came quickly. Flanking the entrance were torches, though, and with them baskets of lumpy, oily candles that could be lit on the flickering braziers to carry into the dark, and become floating points of light that whispered past each other in the soft grass and between the fragrant, lusciously flowering walls of the maze. Even now, the branches and vines that determined the structure seemed to be stretching voraciously, leaving beds of petals where they had crashed into each other, and sneaking across the paths to catch uncritical toes. Even experienced maze-solvers might find some challenges within, with some tricks of the eye and secret doors to discover, but they might also find there was no rush to the exit; the myriad blind alleys and cul-de-sacs weren't simply dead ends. In one, a set of swings, flat wooden boards hung close to each other and maybe tall enough to peek over the maze wall with an enthusiastic enough push. In another, a shallow pond, thick with small flowers that swam over the surface of the water that glowed eerily. A particularly lucky and industrious explorer might find a puzzle box, waiting patiently in a nest of purple sand, that rattled when shook. There was definitely something in there. What else might be hidden in the dark?* Around only a few corners, the whole experience might be over, breaking back into the open garden of the library from a surprising nook just a few steps away from the inviting entrance to the maze. It would probably be better not to get too impatient.
*Feel free to make up some fun, weird stuff, I'm sure we can all be cool. If you're really not sure and need me to say yes, you can dm here or @ me on discord.
no subject
Jon is making a mental note to ensure this kid doesn’t team up with Cayde while gesturing with his free hand for Dusting to get up. “I will show you the way out and you will return tomorrow morning to help with the repairs.”
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"I can find my own way," he says irritably. Suspicion does wonders for his legs, allowing him to rise to his feet relatively quickly after snatching his upturned and snuffed out candle from the dirt. "Just wanted to find it faster."
Dustin pauses to fish his lighter from his pocket and relight the candle. He pointedly doesn't talk about coming back tomorrow for repairs, even though he is absolutely planning on doing so. Admitting to it is far too embarrassing.
Instead, he deflects by being a brat. "You could've stopped me if you didn't want me to break your boyfriend's shit, you know," Dustin says, arcing an eyebrow. "Or do you just like to watch?"
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Does he like to watch? Well, sort of. It’s kind of in his nature these days.
Jon doesn’t appear to be set on following Dustin at least, but the Archivist’s words are still followed by a faint crackle of static flickering through the air as a brief flutter of wings announces the numerous mothcat eyes appearing at the upper edge of the hedge, reflecting the fickle light of the candle, watching.
“It’s impolite to leave without offering your name, Dustin.” The Archivist reminds the young man. And unlike the mothcat eyes, his aren’t blinking. If Dustin wants to be a brat, Jon can be ominous.
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...There definitely were not this many mothcats here just a minute ago. What little color is in Dustin's pale face drains out as his eyes meet Jon's and stay there, though the attempt at obstinate machismo is further undermined as he also takes a small step backwards. Is he...controlling them? Looking through them? Probably something like both.
"Doesn't sound like it's needed, Jonathan," he retorts, but his voice comes out too quiet and nervous to have any real heat behind it. "Never had good manners anyway, not about to start now."
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That said, it's Jon's turn to turn around and head back out of the maze, taking his flashlight with him. The mothcats, however, stay, their eyes still trained on Dustin.
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Nah, he can't let this go. Having stood still in silence for several beats, Dustin's dumbstruck expression rapidly shifts into one of agitation as he explodes into motion, stomping after Jon down the path.
"--Hey!" he shouts at the man's back. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? The hell do you think you know about me?"
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But as it stands, Dustin will have to settle with a very final “No.” for an answer. At least it’s obvious that this one is clearly one for the Eye with how paranoid and nosy he is.
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"You do not get to lead me on like that," he snarls, jabbing an accusing finger at Jon's chest. "You don't have the right. Now you're either full of shit or you know something you have no business knowing. Which is it?"
cw for… Random eye?
While the Archivist’s attention remains on the teenager, an eye, roughly the size of Dustin’s head opens on the hedge right next to him, its pupil quietly focusing on the young man.
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It could be an illusion. There's a strong urge to poke it and find out. --No, not right now. He's either trying to intimidate you or distract you. Don't let him get away with it.
The 'intimidation' angle cannot be completely dismissed, as Dustin's having trouble keeping a level stare with Jon. His eyes keep flickering to the big one near his head to see what it will do.
"Eyeballs are not an answer, Jonathan," he presses, deadpan.
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He has no questions to ask but will simply maintain eye contact while smoking his cigarette, thank you.
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As a minute drags on, Dustin's temper finally starts to cool. Rational thought creeps back into the front of his mind. He's obviously not afraid of you, Dustin considers. His gaze flickers back to the large eye for just a moment. Why would he be? I don't know what he's capable of, he knows that, and he knows he has leverage over you regardless. My only choice is to bargain with him.
With a long sigh, the boy comes to terms with losing this fight after all. "Tell me what I have to do to convince you," he growls, then follows up through gritted teeth like the word itself is causing him immense physical pain, "please."
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"Two things." He states calmly, holding up two fingers. "One: Step aside. Two: Keep the conversation civil." As the hand gets dropped, it does so with a small gesture down the path behind Dustin in an indication to keep going.
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It's also one that Dustin recognizes he'll have to deal with.
His frustration at this boils over into a heavy sigh and a dramatic roll of the eyes - one last show of stubborn impertinence - before, as requested, he steps to the side. He does not go ahead, however; Dustin knows the way out now, thanks to his peek over the hedge and his accidental shortcut, but he is absolutely not showing his back to Jon. Instead, he waits, glowering at him expectantly and silently. Dustin has nothing nice to say to the man, so he keeps those thoughts to himself. To maintain their agreement, of course.
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The path he chooses to walk is the direct way out of the maze and onto the terrace behind the library where a notable amount of mothcats are still going about their business, sitting up in trees, on various pieces of furniture or going on a stroll up the wall of the library itself. A handful flutters down and over to greet Jon, set on accompanying him and Dustin.
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In spite of his doubts, however, he doesn't protest their silent walk. They had made a deal. Dustin is intent on holding up his end of that deal. Besides, the quiet is giving him time to decompress - better analyze his surroundings instead of just passively observing them for later. Everything from the way Jon walks to the lingering scent of his cigarette, the fact that he wasn't bluffing about knowing the way out. He needs to figure out what this guy's deal is.
He halts as their walk is interrupted by a roving band of friendly mothcats. Dustin doesn't go out of his way to try and get their attention; the little creatures are generally inoffensive, in the same way that he finds the typical Earth cats inoffensive, but his opinions of them are a bit more mixed now that Jon's displayed some kind of shared sight through them. Are these all his? Did he summon them like the eye? Wouldn't make sense for the Agrii to have a listing for them in the 'Dictionary' if that were the case, though...
Patiently - or perhaps stubbornly - Dustin continues to wait. He is determined to keep going like this until Jon gives him some direct sign that he'll pay his end of the deal.
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Jon picks one of the chairs at random and indicates for Dustin to have his pick while the mothcats stick to lingering about or return to their own business, which in several cases consists of hunting down insects or instigating little playfights with their siblings.
"Right." Jon says, his attention on Dustin. "One thing right away: I don't control the mothcats. They are a native species that has decided to stick around the library. And they keep it rather free of pests, which I can appreciate."
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"I figured." He sits, placing his candle in front of him and hunching over it on his elbows. The gentle heat feels nice in spite of the muggy summer weather and the several layers of sweaters he's still wearing, somehow. "What was that...thing you did with them, then? With the static. Was that just to get their attention for effect, or do you genuinely have some connection with them?"
Dustin's tone is quite different now - more studious than directly interrogative. Time and distance from his embarrassing blunder earlier are big contributors, though it helps that Jon is also apparently willing to discuss details. They're down to business, now. This is something Dustin can appreciate.
no subject
He folds his hands on the table in front of him, eyes remaining on Dustin. "My connection is to something different. But before I explain, I will ask: Supernatural beings, do they exist in your world?" Maybe they do and Dustin is going into this conversation with some background experience already. Which might be helpful. But he also could be a person that has never encountered anything supernatural and never had any reason to believe in its existence.
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"You tell me," he states, pointed, eyes narrowed. "You're the one who said there wasn't anyone from my world that 'I fear' that's here. If you actually know what I'm afraid of, then you already know my answer."
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"The simple answer to your question: I pay attention to the communication listings of the local network and monitor arrivals as well as departures. Everyone gets listed there, whether they like it or not, even if they try to remain hidden. The more complex addition to this answer is why I asked my previous question. Since your lack of an actual answer has to be taken as a 'no', a baseline of information needs to be established first: On the Earth I came from, monsters were real. Not necessarily in the Hollywood-sense, mind you. They were hidden and for the most part acted without being noticed, leaving the majority of people unaware of their existence. For the most part the paranormal was considered nothing but the result of overactive minds or drugs." Jon pauses there to let this initial piece of information sink in and offer Dustin the opportunity to express his doubts regarding the Archivist's words.
no subject
...In fact, based on Jon's simple answer, it kind of sounds to Dustin like his assertions about knowing who is or is not a threat to him were a bluff. And I fell for it. The teen's face sets into a scowl and heat colors his cheeks. He's just doing the same things I've been doing to monitor new arrivals. This is such bullshit.
Even considering this internalized betrayal, Dustin still manages to hold his tongue. He will not stoop to cheating their deal just because he doesn't like the answer he's gotten. Plus, he could still get something useful out of Jon by the end of this. What the man is describing about his home is interesting, insomuch as it's not too far off how Dustin might describe his own version of Earth, except that the 'monsters' are much easier for him to define.
Given the similarities, Dustin is perhaps not as surprised as he should be. "I'm sure that was easy for you to lean on," he says, voice clipped as he tries to control that still seething sense of annoyance. "Everyone would assume I was on drugs if I said I saw a giant eyeball in a hedge. That was you, right?" Not waiting for an answer, Dustin's anger bubbles up and escapes briefly in the form of sarcasm. "Or are you gonna tell me that those also just like to follow you around?"
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The Archivist goes on. "It's true, however, that I chalked of many statements as the result of abusing intoxicating substances. It was still my job to record the statements any member of the public came in to make regarding any paranormal encounters they believed to have had. The vast majority of them were, unsurprisingly, false. The institute I worked for still recorded, collected and researched them. The real statements were the ones that taught us about these hidden monsters. Their workings, motivations- And their patrons. Every real monster served under an entity of dread. Powerful beings that existed next to our reality, unable to exist within it, yet well capable to manipulate it."
Jon leans back, pulling his hands off the table and folding them into his lap. "Altogether there were fifteen entities in the end. Each of them existing due to and feeding on the fears experienced by all living creatures. The institute I worked for served one of them. The Eye. Also known as The Ceaseless Watcher or Beholding. It represents the fear of being followed, watched, of having your secrets known, of being judged. It also stands for the need to know, even if doing so might endanger your own safety. Curiosity. The hunger for knowledge. And I am its physical representation. Some call me the Archivist, a few more informed beings called me the Archive, but by now I serve as its Pupil. I can see literally everything. I can know everything. I experience every moment of terror that is being experienced on this planet. And I could be reading your very mind at this very moment and you're welcome to me not doing so."
And these are his means of staying informed that aren't simply checking network listings.
no subject
There's anger to start, of course, that's a given. But that quickly gives way to genuinely piqued interest. This 'institute' Jon describes sounds an awful lot like a paranormal investigations group - the sort that Dustin's father might have been a part of, or even led himself, horrifying dread monsters notwithstanding.
I wonder if this is what he was like. The thought is sudden and unwelcome. Dustin slumps backwards in his chair, looking a bit shell-shocked even as Jon elaborates further. I mean, he had a television persona, sure, but...
...And then Jon's answer goes off the rails. Accordingly, Dustin's expression reaches its final resting place - baffled incredulousness. There's plenty he's willing to accept, especially after all that's happened to him here on Agra-10. He's given the benefit of the doubt to everyone he's met so far, including Jon. But there is a point. Claiming to be some kind of all-seeing, all-knowing avatar of knowledge itself is, apparently, that point.
"...With all due respect," Dustin ventures, brow heavily furrowed, "that sounds like a load of bullshit."
Alarm bells are going off somewhere in his head. He's aware that, by calling Jon's abilities into question, he's inviting him to prove them, and that's terrifying. The last thing Dustin wants is to have someone snooping around in his brain, or spying on his past. But he also can't stand a liar. How Jon gets out from between this rock and a hard place is out of Dustin's hands.
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“Which is another reason why I remain certain no one here is after you. Because every being brought here happens to be preoccupied with their own fears. Their worries. Reading a person’s fears tells you a lot about them.” He doesn’t necessarily know what those fears are about in detail, but he tends to get a decent idea which Entity an individual is more likely to feed.
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