revivalproject | Network Text

no chairs pulled out from under you at feasts i can't really participate in? maybe less sass towards you or are you looking for something specific

I wouldn't say 'specific'. Just trying to gauge how valuable you think the offer is. Can't be that dire.

this is the second calibrations bullshit i've been through if they have thoughts of wiping my data or maybe even trying to reset me, there's no way to get it back. so having a data backup would be helpful in keeping them from being successful with that bullshit it's not dire at this moment just trying to take some sort of precaution what sort of exchange would you want for that?

How about those blueprints?

_{[It takes a few minutes for his reply to come through.]}

i'm guessing you just want a copy of them?

_{[That'd be easier than what York thought it was going to come to, which was letting Tony poke around in his physical system.]}

Really?

Are you just giving them away?

I mean, sure, yeah, a copy is great, it's not a collector's piece.

this shit is fucking important tony and this is slightly easier than what i thought you were going to ask for dustin has a mental copy of it i think already there should probably be more copies in case drastic shit happens to my hardware. i know i haven't been great. i'm trying to be better and shit because no one seems willing to hurt and tear me apart here. and out of a lot of people i've met here you're probably one of the few that can put me back together and not have an aneurysm or some shit

Not to talk you out of giving me the blueprints, but no, you should not be making more copies. Stop showing them to people. Stop telling people you have them.

If you think there is even the slightest risk of someone tearing you apart, you should not be providing the instruction manual.

a few people saw them when i got them during the holiday feast. did you know androids can experience surprise? i didn't and i didn't stop others from glancing over them before folding them back up i don't know if it's an actual risk here. it happened once in my world and it was the event that made me fucking deviate

_{[And he had been so confused and terrified and almost helpless until his programming jumped the tracks so he could fight back.]}

the only one who's really gotten a good look at them is dustin. like actually looked them over. he has the mental copy in his head or some shit. i've kept the originals secured since then. no other copies you just want to look at them then? and give them back?

Must be great for the therapist that you can pinpoint it like that. I think I was just born this way. It does help me keep androids surprised, that is something I encourage, sorry it took you this long.

Alright, sure, quick counter though: I look at them, and I get a list of everyone you think might have seen them. You get a priceless, unbreachable supercomputer. You let me know how fair that sounds.

Do you want to see it?

almost like having programming makes pinpointing things easy like i remember who saw them. cal and dustin. simple enough list at least. and you get to look at them, maybe a copy it seems like a fair exchange ...would it be at the hospital?

_{[After all, this Tony wasn't his Tony, and this version hadn't actively gone out of his way to get his hands on York to reset his programming or anything.]}

Ha, no. Not something I leave lying around.

It's at the library. There's a door at the back, where the maze was, basically get you straight to the shop.

didn't think you'd be that stupid anyways, even with someone you don't particularly like backdoor, maze. got it. you're there now? i'm at the hotel so i can head out

Even if Tony's short text, "Can be," wasn't particularly encouraging, the unmistakable sound of his engines rocketing overhead were easy enough to follow as they continued to echo through the hollow streets well after he landed in the compacted garden of the library. The maze was an imprint by then, some hedges still standing but low and skeletal, most torn out to control the burst of wild growth, leaving scars of dry earth tracking through the papery grass. In the heat, most of the plants had grown yellow and brittle, and Tony lingered where he landed with the grass rustling noisily around his calves with every breeze, considering what was once a carefully cultivated garden that had been left to languish. A pair of mothcats were the brightest spots of green, and they were very still, coiled in the cover of shade they could find, eyes closed and eyes turned up and alert. He didn't know if he could do anything about it now. He had killed more plants than he kept. Abruptly, he tore off his helmet, turned toward the crumbling steps that carried him down to the basement door, where he could prop it open and send the disassembling pieces of the armor ahead to leave him waiting there in the shade where the earth was a little more damp and cool under his bare feet.

There's no way around it, but he's nervous. York hates that simulated feeling. Like there's too many little jolts in his system making him want to turn and run. It's way too hot for his system to be wearing the hoodie, but he does and makes the quick walk into the library and through it to get outside. The blueprints are carefully folded inside of his hoodie pocket.

He does take a moment to... admire the mothcats, not certain if they would allow him to pet them during their snooze.

The android heads through the tall grass and down into the shop. The nerves still light through his system. York lingers just inside of the door, letting it swing shut behind him. No sense in letting out any cool air with this heat.

"...Tony?" Because saying the name 'Stark' would feel weird since they had the same last name.

The hallway running under the library connecting it to the school was dark without the sunlight streaming in behind York, and cool only in the way the shade as cool for the mothcats. Once the air settled it hardly mattered, hanging heavily with the humidity. From one end of the hall, the darkness seemed to press closer; an open, watchful void.

At the other, a door suddenly opened, and with it a spike of blue light and a practically frosty gust that spread across the floor as Tony answered, "Yeah-huh." He leaned against the frame very casually for someone who seemed to be pulling the rag between his fingers into a threadbare braid, and tipped his head expectantly before he cautioned, "If you break something, I'll repurpose you into a litter box." Then he was slipping back into the shop.

Inside was a mess. Several surfaces covered with parts and tools couldn't contain the amount of projects, and they scattered across the floor. The Iron Man seemed to have cut a pathway through them and stood, looming at the far end of the space. What was missing was any obvious interface for the towers that lined the wall behind the armour, all very active with flickering lights and whirring fans. It wasn't exactly a place that anyone else was expected to be able to navigate.

At least down here, it's cooler. The dim lighting of the the corridor makes the glow on his chin more prominent, like someone holding up a buttercup flower to see if it glows yellow. His HUD picks up the humidity level, but nothing more, and York's not paying attention to it.

Looking to where the dark area of the hall is, he can feel that same pressing sensation like he did that day he entered the library without permission. It's so far and yet it still gives off his aura of pressure that feel like his hardware is going to give.

It's when Tony's voice cuts through that, does the android look at him. He starts towards the human, shoving his hands in his hoodie pouch. "Yeah right. Empty threats mean nothing to me." But there's that paranoid part of him that knows that it's not an empty threat.

Tony did have the ability to take him apart and repurpose him.

He stands at the doorway, making it look like he's observing when he's just steeling his program from the simulated nervousness. It didn't really look like he could walk through anyways. "I see the maid hasn't been by in awhile. You scare her off?"

The only beat Tony took was a breath as he swung around to lean against the cabinets, drawing his arms up tight enough around his chest to press that breath back out as an airy laugh as he returned, "'Course not. Knocked her up. Come on, you're getting your tabloids mixed up, I've got a brand to maintain here. Go upstairs for the haunted house, the librarian's happy to oblige."

The longer York just stood there at the threshold, the more Tony's fingers dug into his own sides, forcing himself to watch this breach. It was okay, Jocasta had been allowed in the shop back home, and...okay, that hadn't worked out for her. Abruptly, with the tiniest flick of Tony's wrist, the Iron Man that had been standing nearby disassembled and collapsed into a neat stack.

"No, rather not deal with that shitty creepiness again." He didn't like it the first time, so he's not going to willingly go back to it. York at least has the manners to close the door behind him, feeling his hardware trembling. He deletes that random command and looks to Tony.

Just in time for the red and gold suit to dissemble and form into a neat stack nearby. York jumps, he can't stop the reaction, before steeling his face and going over as he pretends like that didn't happen. Like the sudden movement hadn't effected him.

He doesn't know where to really go, so he just goes over to Tony, hands clenching and hidden in his hoodie pouch again. "People tried to talk me out of coming here I hope you know. But I'm giving you a chance and hoping you don't decide to stab a metaphorical knife into my system."

Being overtly jumpy around Tony was an escalation that Tony had attributed to the hospital, or the frustration with Dustin as they had come in, so it was hard for him to pinpoint when exactly that had started and what he might have done. There were a suite of options. Enough that he didn't have to be told that York was being warned off, though it made him purse his lips with a steady stare on York as he gave a bare nod of acknowledgement. After an expectant pause, Tony pressed, "Why?," a pointed, open question, letting York reveal which interpretation he thought was most relevant. Why did no one else want him to come, why did he do it anyway, why did he think he was going to be shanked, why did Tony deserve to feel this guilty.

York stands before Tony, looking up at the man through the dark hair and gaze not entirely readable. "Because they weren't sure if you were trustworthy enough to do this, if it was a reasonable thing to do via security measures. I had two people point blank ask me if this was even a safe idea."

The hands finally come out of his pockets to flap uselessly out a bit and back down to his sides. "But I know someone like Dustin wouldn't have asked you for help if you couldn't fucking do it, and if you're anything like my Tony, I know you have the brains to do it and not be a dick about." But the downside was that the Tony York knows from his world is a dick so there's part of that programming that thinks this Tony will be the same.

York is being human like and hoping that part is wrong.

"But if the aliens here can fuck around with my programming enough to make sleep and have people dreamwalk into my code, then I need a backup in case they try to something hella malicious." Lines of 'what ifs' roll through his mind. What if they reset him, what if they fully deprogrammed him, what if they just shut him off completely, what if what if what if—

The teal light glowing under the hoodie flickers into gold as he starts to get stuck, then starts to flicker and threaten that red error color.

Like the blueprints, it would have been a much safer idea if no one else knew about it. Maybe that was more effective for Tony, though, who wasn't nearly as likely as an android to have a backup copy somewhere, so they would have to multiply their secrecy in other areas, like where exactly that backup might be. All of the oscillating servers in Tony's workshop would have been very obvious. It would take some sort of futurist to plan around that.

Something that Tony was sure Dustin didn't think he was capable of, so York and Tony were going to have to agree to disagree about that kid's motives. Arguing about it seemed a lot less important as Tony's focus was diverted to that flicker of colour at York's collar. "Here," he said suddenly, finally untangling from his own guarded hug around himself to pluck up one of the myriad of scrap parts from the counter by his hip. It was a polished, silvery ball that fit into his palm, ringed in bands so subtle they might have been a gentle, oblong slope without attentive scrutiny. "The fit may be off. It was supposed to be for me. We can do some tailoring."

York's looping is interrupted by Tony, again, when the man starts rummaging through the scrap on the closest surface. He takes what's offered, the color steady into a gold light as he inspects the ball.

A scan doesn't give him much to work with, but it does its job - it gets the android out of his what-if loop. "You're helping me, so no need to tailor shit for me." Turning to the table, he carefully pushes some of the scrap away from the edge and hoists himself up. The blueprints come out with a soft crinkling sound, and he holds them out. They're folded up very carefully for the trip, even though there was no running involved.

The ball was cool and heavy, densely designed, and inert. Something York wasn't really supposed to think twice about if he found himself in this room alone. Tony took his payment for it with a grace that would have Pepper cutting him a glare, immediately unfolding the pages to start scanning them. As he did, he pointed out, "No, I think we do, if that's what I'm helping you with." If York's scans couldn't pick up the details, they were suddenly there helpfully before his eyes, a shimmering projection from somewhere above them. Storage capacity, processing power, and a cascading list of potential failure points and redundancies.

The blueprints are very detailed, layers to help indicate the various layers to the system, like one would use to look at a house. Skin meshes, neural networks, vital synthetic organs. It's all there, laid out in an organized fashion for Tony.

The android snorts at the little quip retorted with, and he look at the projection of of data about the device in his hand. "Whoa." A quiet sound of awe as he looks over what's given to him.

He sets the device aside and looks at Tony. "Why do you want to help me anyways? Thought you didn't even fucking like me." A hand moves through some of the other things on the table. A movement that's supposed to be just to fidgeting, but he picks up other little trinkets. A little fidget square. A little bracelet like piece that was made with sturdy orbs that stretched in and out. Bracer looking devices made of a smooth metal. All interesting shit.

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>>>action

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