Tony Stark (
in_extremis) wrote in
revivalproject2022-09-10 04:11 pm
Harrow
WHO: Tony and Celty, feat. Cayde, Echo, Jon, Dustin, Gladio
WHERE: Wherever you can be found!
WHAT: This is another delivery post. Some characters are getting gifts! If you want them instead of whoever's name is on the tag, you can try to intercept. Celty's delivering now, though, so you better be clever.
WHEN: As the plants calm down.
WARNINGS: None.
The forge wasn't in such a terrible state. It wasn't all the way out here, at the edge of the city, where Tony was stupid enough to have encourage mutant plants to take over the whole place. In fact, it seemed like some of the work had already been done for him when Tony started his pruning, and what was left was easily fed into the kiln or the furnace as he got them roaring again. It was only natural then to get distracted by what was uncovered as he swept out tangles of brambles and withered flowers. There was a lot more cleanup for him to do than just the housekeeping.
By the time he sent a message to Celty (offer still stand?), there was a pile of packages already gathered by the heavy, metal door of the forge, looking disappointingly small in the reddening light of the sunset to Tony's critical gaze. Back to work, then.
...to Cayde
Bundled in a waxy banana-type leaf, tied with its own stems, is a neat stack of long, slim bullets that look like they belong in a rifle. There's no way that diamond shape debossed into their pointed tips is functional. Right? With them is a tube that looks like it has some rifling in it, that the bullets fit into. Maybe there's a way for Cayde (or a curious thief) to find out.
...to Echo
While this is folded up tightly like a fist inside of a clay box, it's not a hand exactly. There's way too many silver fingers, and a plate of flat glass for a palm. It does look like Echo's scomp link will fit into it.
...to Jon
Tony must be really confused about hands, because this glove doesn't have enough fingers. It could be an archery glove. Is the right name on this silky net of petals? It's not leather, but a very fine, gold mesh that knits denser together along the underside of it.
...to Dustin
In a small, paper box is what might be the worst deck of cards. There aren't very many of them, and they are all made of brass, slim enough that it seems like they might fracture. Their backs are all imprinted with NO FUN, and only one of them appears to have anything on the other side. It looks a lot like braille. As soon as the package is opened, they all vibrate.
...to Gladio
This is a flat package, folded in papery leaves. It's a slim, silver frame with filigreed edges along the pane seated in the centre, where Tony appears to have given Gladio...a picture of himself? Wait a second, and it turns out to be two. Three. He's visibly holding his communication device in all of them, so he must have used a mirror. Maybe it's a suggestion.
WHERE: Wherever you can be found!
WHAT: This is another delivery post. Some characters are getting gifts! If you want them instead of whoever's name is on the tag, you can try to intercept. Celty's delivering now, though, so you better be clever.
WHEN: As the plants calm down.
WARNINGS: None.
The forge wasn't in such a terrible state. It wasn't all the way out here, at the edge of the city, where Tony was stupid enough to have encourage mutant plants to take over the whole place. In fact, it seemed like some of the work had already been done for him when Tony started his pruning, and what was left was easily fed into the kiln or the furnace as he got them roaring again. It was only natural then to get distracted by what was uncovered as he swept out tangles of brambles and withered flowers. There was a lot more cleanup for him to do than just the housekeeping.
By the time he sent a message to Celty (offer still stand?), there was a pile of packages already gathered by the heavy, metal door of the forge, looking disappointingly small in the reddening light of the sunset to Tony's critical gaze. Back to work, then.
...to Cayde
Bundled in a waxy banana-type leaf, tied with its own stems, is a neat stack of long, slim bullets that look like they belong in a rifle. There's no way that diamond shape debossed into their pointed tips is functional. Right? With them is a tube that looks like it has some rifling in it, that the bullets fit into. Maybe there's a way for Cayde (or a curious thief) to find out.
...to Echo
While this is folded up tightly like a fist inside of a clay box, it's not a hand exactly. There's way too many silver fingers, and a plate of flat glass for a palm. It does look like Echo's scomp link will fit into it.
...to Jon
Tony must be really confused about hands, because this glove doesn't have enough fingers. It could be an archery glove. Is the right name on this silky net of petals? It's not leather, but a very fine, gold mesh that knits denser together along the underside of it.
...to Dustin
In a small, paper box is what might be the worst deck of cards. There aren't very many of them, and they are all made of brass, slim enough that it seems like they might fracture. Their backs are all imprinted with NO FUN, and only one of them appears to have anything on the other side. It looks a lot like braille. As soon as the package is opened, they all vibrate.
...to Gladio
This is a flat package, folded in papery leaves. It's a slim, silver frame with filigreed edges along the pane seated in the centre, where Tony appears to have given Gladio...a picture of himself? Wait a second, and it turns out to be two. Three. He's visibly holding his communication device in all of them, so he must have used a mirror. Maybe it's a suggestion.

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Seems they're also glad to finally see you return home.
[ He tips his head and raises a brow. ]
You won't need that much armor, though.
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Oh, you missed me. How embarrassing. I'm embarrassed for you.
[The mothcat didn't seem troubled by this, only by Iron Man setting him down in the mess of dried leaves, which he quickly scampered away from and scattered in his wake. There were plenty more, though, who were ready to pounce when Tony nodded and pulled his helmet off, only to bounce off of him ecstatically when they couldn't get a good grip on his back or shoulders.]
I know you're not climbing up there to fix the windows, so, listen, maybe we keep some of it, just in case.
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[ A very matter-of-factly statement. ]
And I see nothing to be embarrassed by about admitting it.
[ And yet Tony has earned himself a tiny pout along with that confident frown. A frown that still comes with a small chuckle and a smirk at the sight of Tony being assaulted by several mothcats pouncing at and on him only to bounce away once again with fluttering wings. ]
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The eye, that--storm--, it wasn't your fault.
[He didn't yet have a much better argument about how blame was supposed to be distributed, but they had to agree on that much.]
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He raises his brows up at Tony, challenging. ]
The eye was my fault just as much as the plants growing out of proportion being caused by you enjoying a little gardening.
[ There's a compromise to be made here. ]
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What's it like downstairs? Disaster?
[His patting became encouragement for Jon to head back that way, so they could sort their living space before they bothered with keeping the lack of books tidy.]
You know who loves cleaning? Lark. You should invite her over for tea. You won't even have to ask, she'll just start doing it.
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Some of the plants manages to break through the walls so we have some large roots to deal with. Not as bad as up here, however, which is fortunate. It still means there are cracks in the walls downstairs that need to be taken care of.
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[Those were cracks that probably should have been dealt with while Tony was building the lab in the first place, so there wasn't a place for the roots to have pushed through. He started to let his shoulders droop guiltily, only to gather himself quickly to ready a smile for Jon.]
I know you said you wouldn't get into my head...[Carefully.] But, that thing you did, when we were fighting on that other planet, in the cave, can you just do that, any time? Does it have to be...real?
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What do you mean by real?
[ He asks with an inquisitive tilt of his head while a few mothcats follow along downstairs, one darting ahead to play with the roots and using a thicker part as scratching post. ]
At that time I just shared what I saw. It wasn't too intrusive, was it?
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[He wasn't about to say he liked having images of bugs projected into his brain, but that didn't mean it wasn't useful while he was blind. He set his helmet aside on the desk to follow the mothcat along the root it chose, searching for where it sprouted through the wall to start pulling them free.]
That glove can only show me what you're actually doing, not what you theoretically want to do. So I was thinking, you know, how useful that would be, if you could just show me, not what this room looks like now, but what you think it should look like when we're done. What you need your office to be. What you want your suit to be.
[He was still tipping his head from side to side, though, as he worked, still at no-kind of-yes.]
But then--I don't know, in a situation like that, in a fight, are you showing me the truth, are you showing me what I might see with my own eyes if I had that perspective, or are you showing me how you understand it? Going through some filter, distorted by the process.
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But he does nod, slowly. ]
What you saw back then was exactly what you would see, yes. I admittedly never tried making anyone see anything that wasn't real. In fact, I- I haven't actually used this ability before. But I knew I... Well. That I could.
[ He pauses to take a breath. ]
Jonah Magnus - The man that used me to summon the apocalypse... He used this power to torture people. Making them learn truths they would have rather avoided. The truth is something remarkably many people fear.
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I'm not asking you to do it again. If you don't want to.
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That's... Not it. I just wouldn't want to impose it on anyone who would rather not have anyone deposit information into their head.
[ And they both know how Tony thinks about Jon accessing his head. ]
I never considered it as a means to share ideas, if that's what you were suggesting.
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[He tipped his head with a grimace, looking equal parts willing to accept that this was awful, and dubious of its effectiveness. Putting the bugs in his head was not pleasant. He couldn't quite imagine being told the truth of something was any worse than anything he already knew. Exposing those truths to someone else sounded much more terrifying.]
Sharing ideas instantaneously, without all of the noise, that's the ideal, that's what we've been working toward since the invention of language. How anyone could make that safe, though--I wouldn't trust anyone else on this planet with that ability. I probably couldn't help myself, I'd torture people with it.
[It took some processing as he spoke, but his focus was suddenly intent back on Jon when he was done.]
Is that why you don't actually know everything?
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[ Jon nods this very appreciation, though not without a cautiously raised brow at the little admission that follows these words. Though it probably shouldn't be that surprising, really. Tony likes to talk and he literally texts with his mind, so being able to share his very ideas without putting them to words? Not everyone would enjoy that overload of creativity. In many ways it's not that different from the Eye spooling information right into his mind.
The question has Jon pause for a moment as he considers it. In the end, he nods with a small shrug. ]
I suppose. The Eye... It only knows what it has been able to observe. It can't see into other dimensions and this place has proven many times that it is well capable of limiting our powers. Considering I am the only direct link Beholding has to this world, everything it knows it learned through me.
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[He could have Known what Tony was doing, what he had made for him, after all. There was an established boundary there, of course, but that wasn't all, was it? Boundaries were meant to be tested.]
What is it that you're afraid of?
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You know the answer to that question, Tony. I'm afraid of hurting someone. I have seen what happened to some of the Archivists that came before me. What they became. I- I have accepted that I'm no longer human, but... I don't want to turn into a monster, Tony. That's what I'm afraid of.
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Those aren't your only two options.
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No. But these are the ones I'm afraid of and will do what I can to avoid.
[ That he found a way to make his powers be useful during that encounter with a bugs is a very clear success in Jon's books. A success that agrees with all the times Tony has been insisting that he could be more. ]
I count on you to remind me if I start heading down the wrong path.
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I don't think I could stop you from doing anything you set your sights on.
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[ Jon offers a smile. This is very similar to what Tony has been telling Jon several times. An advice Tony would do well to heed himself. ]
But that aside- You are asking me to possibly share... Ideas. I suppose that's what you were going for.
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Something like that. Listen, everything I make is incredible, you're going to be impressed either way, but so far, I basically know how you work under pressure, with garbage. I don't really know what your ideal is, what you would be if you had everything you wanted, and my extrapolation could be way off, you know, between the magic thing, and the different Earth thing. Gladio thinks 'dating' is the same thing as trading phone numbers, I'm not sure I can make calls like that anymore.
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[ Jon repeated the words with a small exhale that is followed by a frown. ]
That's... Not something I ever had to think about.
[ Never having either the money or the option, Jon has gotten used to work with what he had or could afford. Simple limits he had just accepted as such. ]
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