Wilt

[in_extremis]

WHO: Tony, Donatello, Lestat. Let me know if you want one for ✨you✨
WHERE: The agricultural building and the beach
WHAT: Checking up after a couple of different traumatic events.
WHEN: July
WARNINGS: Lestat, there will be blood. Might be following up on any relevant Calibrations traumas with Donnie.


a. greenhouse [for Donnie]
It was even hotter inside the glass building. There was a dark cloud on the horizon that Tony looked to with longing, willing to weather whatever nuclear-level storm this planet could fabricate for them for a little rain to cool down the shimmering street, only to decide once inside that humidity was actually exponentially worse. DATA was entirely unconcerned, tapping away on his spindly legs down the aisle and brushing through the lush greenery that practically burst out of every bed on either side of them. The robot didn't have to struggle through a thick breath of dense air. He wasn't waiting for Tony to keep up, either, and rounded a corner into the thicket while Tony tugged at his cuffs to push them impatiently up his already damp arms, where there wasn't even a breeze anymore to cool them.

"Hey," Tony complained, but was already alone and released all of that pressure in a sigh with a droop of his shoulders instead of the argument he had puffed up with for being abandoned. He didn't want to spend any longer in here than he needed to, and definitely not wandering around lost, so he had to muster the willpower to jog after DATA before he had entirely disappeared. He was the one that knew where Donnie was.

Tony hadn't properly warned the kid about what that tunnel really was, and even a month spent scavenging berries was preferable to being stuck in that nightmare. He might have been a little thin and bruised, but at least Tony had gotten a tan. In his time since being violently deposited back at the fountain, a few anxious days prodding around the tunnel did mean a lot of time for Tony to have designed a new suit that may have had something to do with the boots swinging from his hand. Tony might not have deserved forgiveness, but Donnie did deserve a little freedom.

b. waterfront [for Lestat]
The arguments in favour of becoming nocturnal were mounting. Not that Tony was getting much sleep at any time of day, but he could see the benefits of being completely unconscious through the height of the relentless sun and only coming out of wherever Lestat was storing himself in the relative cool of the night. The raucous birdcall wasn't as pervasive, either, leaving the beach clear and attuned to the meditative lap of the water that slipped away from the sand silently. Not that Tony was very good at meditating, either. Or waiting. He filled that gap with his own voice then, sometimes mumbled, sometimes snatches of song, up toward the stars as his hands worked just as busily at nothing just over his stomach, fingers tapping at the air as though he sat at a keyboard rather than sprawled on his back in the sand where he could dig his toes into the cooler layers below. When the noise he made wasn't quite enough to drown out his own doubts, it would get quieter still, fading out into occasional mutters if he wasn't biting his lip, until an idea was distracting enough that he wasn't consumed with the crushing weight of its ultimate worthlessness. They were all stored on the servers back in the library, anyway, blueprints and equations or more ephemeral sketches for Tony to sort through when he returned to the workshop, maybe find something that Jon could make an approving noise at.

While he worked, his head was pillowed on his silk jacket, shoes abandoned beside him, one of them holding down the corner of the blanket where a basket and small box waited. In the stillness between each wave, while the water seemed to hold its breath, he could still sometimes smell the sticky sweetness from the picnic, reminding him every time to check his messages in the back of his mind as though he could miss a notification. Two more minutes, if Lestat didn't show, Tony would leave, and no one had to know he had been tricked into wasting his time out here. He could have been wasting his time at home.

Comments

b- just kidding

[thepurpleone]

Donnie had all the nervous energy of someone who had been stuck indoors for far too long with no proper outlet. The induced sleep was hardly restful, hours of wakefulness blurring with what might as well have been hallucinations come those dreams and the places he found himself in.

He'd kept himself busy, maybe too busy, but it was the only way he knew to weather things, the only way not to get horribly depressed and stay shut in a room in self-imposed solitary confinement within confinement.

But now he was out and all at once it was just too much, so he latched on one thing to focus on. Focus however was easier said than done when things were just incredibly warm.

If comparing two evils, Donnie had to go with the humid heat over the dryness that seemed to greedily suck up every bit of moisture outside. It was almost comparable in the greenhouse to the worst of a New York summer, and Donnie had set up a hose to spray upwards, creating a small section of rainfall to help make the heat a bit more bearable as he checked on his plant experiments.

[in_extremis]

The timbre of that soft patter changed as it pattered onto DATA's metal case, making the robot turn his camera up curiously with only a brief slowing of his tip-tapping feet, then press on without further concern for this indoor rainfall. He came scuttling directly toward Donnie, where he stopped just as confidently at the turtle's side, and lowered himself to the ground with his legs retracting to leave him an eye staring upward, droplets sliding off of his polished sides.

[thepurpleone]

Donnie glanced up at the sound, finally catching that delicate little tapping, though it took him a moment to place. He looked towards the little drone, staring blankly a moment once the little guy came to a halt.

"Data..?"

He looked at that unblinking eye, his perfectly drawn brows angling downwards in suspicion before he turned his eyes towards the vague suggestion of a pathway between the rows of greenery. If DATA's here, then surely he hadn't come all this way alone.

[in_extremis]

The only acknowledgement that DATA offered was a whirring of his shutter, half closed in focus. He had done his job exceptionally, and led Tony directly to Donnie, and nothing had gone wrong. After another moment, Tony was even there!

He approached much more noisily than the robot, beating heavy leaves away from his face and doing his best to sidle through the choked path with plenty of complaints for the intrusion of his personal space. "At least buy me a drink first," he was saying as he pushed out into the circle of rainfall, hopping on one foot to detangle a vine that had hooked around his ankle before it got ripped. By then, he was clutching the boots to his chest, elbows tucked in, and they still managed to be coated with the sticky seeds of some burgeoning flower, petals clinging to Tony's sleeves.

When he realized where he was, he stared at Donnie for a moment before accusing, "This cannot be fun for you. This is a nightmare."

[thepurpleone]

It had always been a strange, tense sort of relationship between him and the metal sphere. Maybe it was all one-sided. Donnie eyed DATA again before giving him a little poke with a finger.

Tony's entrance coaxed a weak smile from the turtle. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed something so simple like people complaining, or just some kind of noise other than footsteps on hard, clean floors. Sure there were some exceptions in the Calibrations space because apparently there were people who were even more antsy about confined places than he was, but it was still all very subdued.

He looked up at Tony, blinking at the greeting, turning the words over as he worked out what exactly the man was trying to apply them to.

"Aside from the current climate situation, this for the moment is considerably paradise in comparison to previous venues."

[in_extremis]

It was possible that Tony should stop to think more before letting the sounds come out of his mouth, though choosing to do that now, after the mistake and letting his teeth click together, also cut off the apology he was trying to muster. Instead, he took a breath and glanced around like he could see the overenthusiastic flora from a new perspective now, he did get it, and sauntered closer through the shower where he had to pluck off his sunglasses as they were streaked with droplets. A fair trade.

With a gentle pat to keep Donnie steady before he could protest, Tony swept down to greet him with a kiss to the top of his head, then was swaying back again to ask, "You okay, kid?" through his teeth, like they could keep it a secret from the flowers if he wanted.

[thepurpleone]

He was trying very hard not to look miserable, but being soggy in an artificial rainfall didn't really help. But he wasn't being sarcastic despite the sound of his tone, that was just how he spoke, really. After being stuck behind white walls, why wouldn't he come back to somewhere full of plantlife, mugginess aside?

Hugs from his father were rare as it was, kisses? Out of the question. Donnie blinked, momentarily thrown off by Tony's actual greeting before his eyes shifted towards the wet ground.

"...better," he finally admitted, before adding on a, "Maybe." He chewed on his lower lip for a second before looking back at Tony.

"I should've figured it was a trap, I mean, you told me about it but then there was an Agrii saying we could go home and everyone looked like they were going and... I don't know but it was the worst place I've ever been in. Like...I know there are places people put other people who are insane but this was like the opposite."

[in_extremis]

So far, there was no real way to prepare for anything that the aliens inflicted on them--it came randomly, and was different every time, no patterns that Tony had been able to predict except that nothing could be trusted, not even his own body. He started flapping a hand to discourage any further blame Donnie thought he should have been taking for knowing any better, only for it to slow and withdraw to tap anxiously against his chest instead.

"Okay, listen, good news," he offered, suddenly chipper to draw them up out of any wallowing in the mud that was happening here, "you were already kind of insane, so..." He grimaced an apology for being the one to have to tell Donnie, hand tipping in the air now to measure a negligible adjustment in his sanity, all things considered. "I get it, though. Being away from me for so long must have been hard on you. That's very natural."

[thepurpleone]

Donnie pouted for all of two seconds before conceding the point with a muttered, "Fair." Being a genius did walk a fine line between sanity and insanity, after all.

"Oh gosh how long was it even? No never mind, I don't know if I want to know. I tried keeping track at first, going by when I woke up but then it just got kind of depressing."

He looked down again, grimacing slightly at DATA there before turning that eye around and nudging the little drone to the side.

"...where were you?"

[in_extremis]

Another grimace, this time with a raised lip and small nod to agree that Donnie could have been better off not knowing the particulars, because the exact length of time didn't matter so much when it was over now, and time wasn't exactly reliable here anyway. He could go away himself tomorrow, and come back in six months three years younger.

Not particularly eager to explain his own failures, though, Tony glanced around with a hand out vaguely at the world around them, sucking his teeth, and didn't answer instead, "I'd be impressed if you could tell me something about it that wasn't depressing. I got an incredible--uh--date out of one of those dreams once, I've done worse things for love." It was more likely that Donnie wasn't so lucky, though, and Tony's expectant eyebrows quickly dropped and he gave his head a tiny shake, you don't have to answer that. Now he had to cover, "I didn't know it was coming, if that's what you're wondering. I was out of the city, trying to find something out there. Must have been--not out of range, they knew where I was, they brought me back. It's not like we can hike out and settle somewhere they can't reach us. " He shrugged, another apology, eyes on the ground then until he could scratch away the void of shame crushing his heart.

[thepurpleone]

"If not depressing, then creepy," Donnie snorted, wrinkling his nose. "The text on the wall, definitely didn't help with the ambiance."

He did have to arch a brow at Tony mentioning his own experiences in those dreams, and it made him stiffen a little bit. Guh, the dreams. He supposed not all of them were bad but it had to be terribly intrusive, going through other people's heads, finding someone in his own.

Donnie shook his head then. "I...wasn't sure where you were, or if it was better than where we were." The 'or worse' was heavily implied. He wasn't sure that hearing about Tony's attempted exploits was any better. Still trapped. Still stuck.

"...something hides the door. There's definitely something between the Calibrations rooms and that tunnel, they just don't want us to find it. You've seen how my goggles work. When I'd scan where the door was, they'd just go out. I thought something was wrong with them, but the readouts would come out just fine if I looked elsewhere. The wall feels a little different too, where the door should have been." He sighed, lifting his hands and letting them fall. "Don't know how helpful that is but I mean...had to occupy my time with something aside from my battle shell. -I finished it, by the way."

[in_extremis]

From what Tony understood, Donnie should have been uniquely positioned to gain some understanding of the mechanisms of this door, and maybe knowing definitively that it was there was something of a win, technically. Maybe he'd be better prepared when he came around to his magic thing more. It was sounding to Tony like that was an important part of the equation, muttering, "Extradimensional maybe. Occupying a plane of existence we don't know how to sense yet." Even Jon's All Seeing Eye wouldn't work if something wasn't visible.

The battle shell was a welcome distraction from yet another problem Tony didn't know how to solve, and he enthused, "What--finished, like you built it in there?" He wasn't about to doubt a herculean creation under extraordinary circumstances, but couldn't imagine that would produce the ideal form that Donnie had been fixated on. So they could focus properly on these great strides, he flapped his hand to belatedly insist, "Don't worry about me, I'm always okay, I'm invincible," then raised the other still holding the boots against his chest. "I got you something. Do you know how to skate?"

[thepurpleone]

An extraplanar doorway still seemed more reasonable than a magical one.

"Wasn't just the door that was blocked. I tried looking around the rest of the facilities. Anywhere that they didn't want tampering got the same results- the connection to the food dispensers, the water, even the drainage."

Donnie raised his hands again. "I had most of it together before we were stuck, but I brought all the parts and portable tools I needed for fine tuning." He thumbed over to some small storage shed a little ways from them, the vague shape of the shell-like armor sitting just within the opening and out of the immediate 'rainfall.' "Need to make a better battery pack for it. The ones I had won't last for a consistent output. Oh-"

Remembering something else, he pulled out a couple of crystals from a belt pouch, small raw ones from the caves. "These were relatively fresh before we went into the tunnel. Something was affecting them I think, when we were in there, they weren't glowing as brightly. Like they were being drained."

Not that he doubted Tony's ability to take care of himself but he still had to give him a look. No one was ever always okay and hardly invincible, but Donnie couldn't keep a rueful smile from tugging at a corner of his lips all the same. He really was glad to be able to see him again.

And then came the odd question, and his attention drawn to the boots that Tony had toted all the way here. "Skate? Uh...sort of? Usually I skateboard. Why?"

b- 🚫🐢s allowed :-P

[marquisdemort]

The nights were long in this place, a nice change of pace, though the days were exhausting, particularly when lacking a safe place to sleep. Claudia would not allow him to share her coffin, and he'd destroyed the strange thing the damned creatures of this world had dared to call a coffin, leaving him skulking in the dark of whichever basement they were occupying while the sun raged.

The walk out to the water front was a languid one, Lestat in no particular rush, and he looked amused when he finally found the man and the little set up.

"...How quaint," he drawled, dropping to join him with considerably more grace than he'd managed in their initial meeting.

[in_extremis]

They both had a disastrous first impression to make up for, and Tony hoped the slow sweep of consideration he gave at Lestat's recline with the tug of a smirk at the corner of his mouth served as a suggestion that Lestat should give him as much grace, and forget the bloody, poorly-dressed image he had presented. Maybe it was easier to forget than the fang-bared, hissing creature Lestat had been, and Tony quickly tried to compartmentalize as he pushed himself up and polished away a frown of concern, back into that smirk before he was looking up again from patting the sand from his hands. He was shaved now, and dressed, his rolled up pantlegs and open collar a controlled choice of artful dishevelment rather than feral disregard.

"I'd invite you to the gala," he replied, "but that happens before sunset here, sorry, what a shame. You'll have to settle for these modest luxuries." He tipped the covers off of his picnic, the basket full of fruit, and the box of fragrant cigars.

[marquisdemort]

With neither party on the brink of death this time, Lestat was better able to ponder what it was that allowed Tony to shield his mind from him so completely. He wondered distantly if it was his partner's doing or if he was some unknown creature himself.

"I've had quite enough of parties for a while," Lestat mused with a coy grin, looking over the offers with an arched brow. "And here I've brought nothing, forgive me, Bijou."

[in_extremis]

Tony was entirely prepared to needle Lestat over this neglect, judgmental eyebrow raised even as he plucked a berry from the basket and meant to complain around it that this was supposed to be a bribe for Tony, lest they forget, he wasn't the one that wanted something. He almost swallowed the berry whole in surprise instead at the petname, which at least gave him the cover to cough and might have explained away the colour on his cheeks. It was dark, it was okay, remember you're supposed to be cool.

In a still thready voice, he tried to recover, "I didn't think I would miss the parties, either." He had to give another thump to his chest as he assembled his words, and said, "Once we get them, I remember why, nightmare, but an invitation or two was always nice to get. Showing off your date. Hooking up in the coat room."

[marquisdemort]

He had a gift planned, but not a tangible one. That delightful surprise was yet another gift though, Lestat gave a pleased hum, plucking out a berry for himself and indulging as though it didn't taste of ash on his tongue.

"I wonder if we didn't attend the same sort of parties?" he teased with a low voice.

[in_extremis]

It felt as though Tony had just made a new knot in the wires in his rush to cover his awkwardness with whatever words came to mind, not sure what exactly that tone was implying and definitely not getting the sense that those were the parties that Lestat was avoiding. He found he had to swallow again, and really needed something to do with his itchy hands to redirect this anxiety now that Lestat's weirdly piercing eyes were on him and his teeth were flashing in the moonlight. Fussing with a cigar and the matches would occupy a few seconds. Maybe he should let Jon know where they were.

"I got the impression that a vampire party was a little, uh, hardcore for me," he demured. "The ones in New York, anyway. Cleaning crew always needed follow up therapy, massive investment. Not that I can judge--I've gotten pretty wet'n'wild at a function, you know, it's--it happens."

[marquisdemort]

"Mmm," Lestat almost purred, head canting in consideration before waving an accepting hand at the assessment. It was more or less correct.

"You'd be the guest of honor for a short while. But I've been sworn to leave you unmolested."

[in_extremis]

There were no necessary follow up questions re: the short-lived guest of honour at a vampire party, making Tony's lip raise in distaste before he could entirely cover it by lighting his cigar, which he took his time with to properly recover and reassure himself that Lestat making a promise to Jon must have guaranteed him at least a head start. "I'm more than capable of handling that part myself," he promised when he finally flicked away the blackened match, his words streaming out in a sweet haze. "You wanted me to handle something else, though," he reminded Lestat, frayed ends seared off and drawn up tight enough now to prop himself on one hand and level a piercingly expectant stare at the vampire. Their eyes were almost the same colour, no hint of the warning red that Tony should have been studying. Something about Lestat was different, and pressing him about parties was not illuminating.

[marquisdemort]

His lips quirked, but Lestat played the gentleman apart from that brief look. "Given you know my nature, I suppose there's no need to fabricate some fanciful tale. I need a coffin," he said plainly, "And as this place has little to offer in the way of craft persons- your talents seemed the closest aligned from what I've gathered."

[in_extremis]

That was kind of on the nose. This vampire was starting to sound like something out of a novel, sleeping in coffins, wearing blouses, and biting without infecting Tony with whatever parasite it was that kept him undead. That bite, too, really should have hurt more, and Tony had kept touching it in the days that followed and being surprised that it stung, a little betrayal of his every other instinct.

"Can't be too hard," Tony accepted. "Just a fancy box, isn't it? Does it have to be...does a priest bless a coffin?" There had to be some reason it had to be a coffin specifically, and not a specially formulated sleeping pod. This was not Tony's area of expertise, he didn't even stick around at a funeral if he could help it.

[marquisdemort]

"More or less," Lestat agreed, though he wasn't entirely thrilled with the simplification, and he snorted at the follow up. "Do you have a priest?" he asked in amusement. Not that he needed their blessing, but he did enjoy stalking them in particular.

"...How are you healing?" he asked, trying to peer at that throat.

[in_extremis]

"Can't be too hard," Tony repeated, head tipping with a wry smile at the image of him, of all people, pinning on the collar. Even that part wouldn't last very long, but maybe just long enough to wave his hands over a big box, and listen to a couple of people's dark secrets. For their own good, of course.

The question caught him off guard, making him impulsively lift a hand to his throat, then tug at his collar like he meant to fix it and not just cover where any lingering evidence of the bite might be. "Ancient history," he reported. "Like it never happened. You haven't puked once, hey, we should be celebrating."