revivalproject | [Open] These Broken Pieces Of Life

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[Open] These Broken Pieces Of Life

WHO: Tommy Shepherd, Open
WHERE: Young Avengers HQ, The Diner, The Greenhouse, The Beach Cave Hot Springs
WHAT: Returning to Temba, Broken Down Home, Farming, Failing To Hide Emotional Pain.
WHEN: August 1st through 15th
WARNINGS: N/A

I. Another Ruined Home | Young Avengers HQ

Freedom. Sunlight. A sandwich made of greens and beautiful vegetables from the greenhouse. A meal that was doing nothing to make what was before him any better. Home, for the last several years... Broken.

"Fucking hell," he grumbled around his mouthful of baconroom wrap. "Because when it fucking rains..."

It fucking poured. The roof was busted open, the door fallen off, and he could already see through the opening that their shared living room space was fucked. And now Tommy had no choice but to hope that things would be fixable. That he could bring out the things that mattered until such time he could have his home and his life back.

"Fat chance that, with my luck."

II. Moving In Day | The Diner

It's only temporary, Tommy tells himself as he pushes into the Diner and puts the heavy box in his arms on the table. He's so tired after all of the work of cleaning the HQ out. Fuck, he just hadn't wanted to deal with that today.

"Tea," he decides, moving to the counter to fish out the kettle so he could fill it with water. Once he's got the thing full and his hand near it to start heating it, he looks to the door in the corner that he never really used. One of the two sets of stairs that led up into the apartment that was once Eli's. A space that hadn't been used in years.

"Home sweet home I guess. But damn, how am I supposed to get a new bed up the stairs? They're narrow!"

III. Whistle While You Work | The Greenhouse

Stressed? Frustrated by the turn of events? Need to feel accomplished in life? Have you ever considered Farming(tm)?!

Tommy groans at the voice running stupid infomercials in his head as he enters the greenhouse, grabs a basket with pruning sheers and gloves from the door, and looks around. The green, the smell of plants, the familiarity of this place... It's strangely soothing to Tommy. Like coming home. Perhaps it was, given no one had put as many years of care and attention into this place as he had.

And this? This was the place he remembers. Tommy immediately moves to the first area where he should have been harvesting already and sets into it. And he pauses only when he hears motion.

"Someone there?" he calls out, looking around. Strange. Not many people came here like he did.

IV. The Calm Is A Lie | Beach Caves Hot Spring

He didn't come here often. There was always the risk he'd turn the wrong way and end up in the crystal rich parts of the minds. Super charging his powers right now was not something Tommy was particularly keen on. It would only make all of this decidedly worse.

Caution was the watch word as he moved through the caves, hand on a wall, until he could hear the water and feel the heat. The springs. A place to soak sore muscles, and he'd been sore as hell since they'd headed underground. No amount of sauna could have helped with it. Now Tommy didn't hesitate for even a second to strip out of his clothes and slip into the almost too hot water.

"Fuck," he mumbled once he was settled into it. It felt so good. So freeing. So nice.

"Fuck," he repeated as he felt a sting in his eyes. It's just from the heat of the water. It's from how hot it is, turning his skin a little pinker. That's it. He's not crying. He's not crying.

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Was it using Tommy‘s words against him? Or in Billy’s favor for being a better person? Doing things like this meant he could check on his sponsor after the month vacation in a bunker, and get his tape player fixed. Usually a situation similar to this at home would have him bristle and snarl, push back against his dads orders a bit but not here.

Billy was choosing to help.

He sticks his tongue out before throwing the cloth at the speedster. "No, it’s just fun. Go fix my tape player, I promise not to burn your precious diner down while I’m up here."

"Sure, casual application of stings and barbs is so fun," he rolls his eyes but he is smiling. "And seriously, if you can burn this place down in a literal minute, that would be impressive."

"It's better than other shit I could try to do. Like shoving you out of the window or something. A little rat tail isn't terrible."

The cloth is grabbed and cracked again at Tommy, though he knows it probably misses. Laughing despite it all, he makes sure the wrap around his face is secure before taking both cloths to really work at the dusting. Rapid dusting, like he's going to try and start said fire with the friction of it.

And he loses himself in the cleaning. It's like a meditation, like Gladio had mentioned. Easy to focus on something else as he works over the chairs and table. Over the lamp. Some of the bed which gets its linens stripped off and set on the table.

He finally takes a break and sits on the window sill with one leg bent up on it and the other balancing on the floor. There's too much in the way so he can't see the beach, but it's nice knowing it's out there at least.

"Cute to think that you could even begin to shove me anywhere I don't allow, Curls," Tommy grins and chuckles.

And once more he dances so very gracefully out of the way of the towel, smiling. Dude, keep it up and he's going to actually start to waltz out of the way. Do you need that man? But with Billy clearly intending to get to work Tommy heads downstairs for his work.

He takes a clear table, takes the tape player apart, and has it back together in a minute flat. The thing has been entirely cleaned out, as close to new as a thing can be, and Tommy's certain he found the problem (a tiny pebble caught under one of the two rotating pieces).

Of course he heads up immediately, intending to hand it over. Except when he hits the top of the stairs on quiet feet he sees Billy there, truly caught up in it. Stands there watching and smiling because the guy seems fucking focused. Probably should help, but instead he goes downstairs to work on something else. And just as he finishes and comes upstairs he catches sight of Billy in the window.

"Here, a snack," he says, moving to offer the guy a plate of... Well, that's definitely the closest he's managed to street tacos here. The veggies look wrong, the meat isn't quite chicken, the seasoning is just the tiniest bit off, but clearly he's figured this one out as well as he can for an alien world.

Billy won't admit it out loud, but he likes the nickname. Curls. His have gotten more wild over the months without his usual product, but he hasn't really...noticed. Or cared outside of a few passing thoughts of it. The blond wishes he had a pack of smokes.

Probably not a good idea anyways. He would accidentally start a fire with all of the dust.

He's just pulling the face mask down to get some actual fresh air when Tommy appears with a plate. Brows furrow over a confused look as he takes in what looks like street tacos but... not quite right. "Street tacos? I guess as close as you can get to them?" He picks one up and sniffs at it before taking a bite.

Who cares if they're wild. They look good. They look wild in a way that makes him look free and untamed. Nothing wrong with that. Or maybe Tommy's just drawn to people with curls. Hell, his last boyfriend had them.

"As close as I can get. Sorry about no crema. Hilariously those little pink fruits on the side? They taste a lot like lime. So you can squeeze them on top if you like that."

He takes the sheets and balls them up in his hands. There's no washing machines because no ships but he can get these done pretty easy himself.

"Hey man. Thanks."

Then they match Billy more now than they did back home. He almost runs his hands through them, but stops because he knows they're filled with dust. Whenever he's - or well, when they're done dusting, he'll have to go shower. Or maybe just strip down and plunge into the ocean when he heads back to the cabin.

A smirk and a nod. He squeezes one of the little fruits over the food, then takes a bite. "Holy shit. They do taste like lime, what the fuck." But he eats it because it's actually pretty good in spite of everything.

"As long as this means you don't pout about your other home since you've got this one for now." Because Tommy was doing better than he was, but he had more time to do this 'be a good person' thing.

Nothing wrong with the exterior matching the interior at times. And yeah, he wouldn't be the only one bathing later. Tommy would just risk the hotsprings. But for now? Now he yeets the sheets at the door by the stairs.

"Damn right. I've been spending years finding the foods that taste the most like home to me, okay? Including buying new things to cultivate back home. If it was the season I would have minced up this sugarcane like stuff that I kid you not, tastes like buttered corn."

As for the rest, he really does look around. This could work.

"Place is smaller than I thought actually. Doesn't fit the footprint downstairs. Starting to wonder if there's some storage space up here. If so, I could definitely store extra supplies. But whatever."

Moping, huh? Tommy sighs and scuffs a foot against the floor before grabbing one of Billy's dust rags and going to wipe down a wall.

"I'll keep moping, sorry. That place was home. Wanda and Vizh lived nearby, while they were still there. Teddy lived with us for a while too, when he was here. But I'll make do what what I get. Pretty sure my bro is going to shack up with someone, so he's outgrown me I guess. That's fine. And hey, they're wall space for the painting right here, good view from the bed, so I'll be fine."

Billy gets it. He hates that he gets it. The other place Tommy had been living was probably the equivalent of Billy's home in California. Torn away from both of them before either of them had a chance to defend it. But he watches that foot scuff the floor before the white haired guy goes to clean the wall. Thankfully most of the dust is off of that one, so the ashiness isn't as prominent.

He takes another few bites. He listens. Billy realizes he doesn't really know much about Tommy outside of the fact he was at super-juvie and didn't like being called a freak. "Volcano really changed everything," Billy finally comments quietly. "Where are you from back home anyways?"

Truly, he doesn't know a lot at all. Because Tommy doesn't open up easily at all. Especially when he's supposed to be taking care of someone else.

"Definitely did. My idiot brother and Stark tried to stop it. Like fucking geniuses. They tend to forget we can't do that here, not like at home. We're not living on our own rules anymore."

When he gets the wall clean enough he nods. Yeah. Here. He'll need a nail and picture wire for a change. But he'll have his family with him.

"Born in Springfield, New Jersey. But also sorta Leonia, New Jersey. It's complicated. Of course neither of those will make sense to you. Springfield is hard to reference, but if you've ever heard of the George Washington Bridge, Leonia's near the western approach to it."

"Ew, east coast." It's said with a teasing tone, because Billy still has that sense that something is wrong. And he's starting to think losing the other home here in the city had a big factor in it. "You're a jersey devil. Explains a bit. But I don't know anything about the east coast though, so I don't know what bridge you're talking about."

And honestly he wasn't that interested in New Jersey or the east coast.

"And your brother and whoever the Stark guy is, they'll have to learn they can't save everyone or everything."

Tommy snorts.

"The Jersey Devil lives in the Pine Barrens. And Leonia and Springfield are not near the Barrens at all. As for the devil in me, I can't help where my soul comes from man. But I promise, it was washed and probably dry cleaned first."

He smiles as he says it, looking at Billy, spinning it like a joke. It is a joke. It's a joke wrapped around a nugget of truth.

"The GW is one of the major bridges into New York, man. And trust me, we've so passed learned that. Learned it the hard way when Asgard fell. Which is a really insane super hero story so I doubt you'll believe it or care. Finish eating up. I should go set the sheets to soak and grab a nail really quick."

"It's a joke, Speedy. At least I've heard of one of your creatures over there and—" but the sentence stops as his brain processes the rest of that from Tommy. His soul? How the hell did that work? He thinks on some of the teachings his parents had tried to bring him up with (only bits and pieces stuck).

The grin has him wondering if it was a joke.

But this guy had superpowers, went to super juvie, so maybe it wasn't? Billy looks stunned. Forgets about his alien street taco. "Wait no, hang on. What the hell do you mean 'where my soul comes from'. You think you can just skip past that part like it's hopscotch?"

Oh come on man. Tommy sees that mental processing and groans. Come on, why couldn't the guy have just taken it for the joke?

"We are too sober to get into the complications of my history, right? Do you really want to hear that trash? No one wants to hear that trash."

"Fine. You get me past Wesker so we can get drunk one night and you tell me all about that." But not here. And he doesn't think that Tommy will get past that arrogant prick in the bar. Then remembers the speed and of course Tommy could get past him. It's what the guy did.

The street taco gets finished off and he sets the plate on the clean table before wrapping the cloth around his face again. "You got the see my trash first hand. You told me about the super juvie shit and stuff." He goes back to wiping down the bed, not as intensely so he can focus on Tommy still. Or maybe the guy wouldn't tell him anything at all.

He thinks about what he's been learning from others lately. "So what sort of hobbies does a speedster tomcat get into?"

'The Court is very big on sharing.'

Tommy snickers.

"You really want to drink there when I can just deliver? I mean... Dude, I make red fruit juice. If you're not picky on what you drink I can have you hooked up tonight. You still won't believe any of what I say though."

Because really, who wants to believe in souls and hell and rebirth and plenty of other weird ass things? That Tommy's already on his second life and this one started before the first?

"People back home even roll their eyes at it and have a hard time believing it if I don't have back up. And they're used to our BS."

Still, if Billy wants to know, Tommy absolutely will tell him. No hesitation. Just like he immediately answers the next question.

"Back home I traveled a lot. And parties. Clubbing was great. I mean, with my powers I could see the world however and whenever I wanted. And I didn't have as MUCH issues with language barriers because of tech and all the time in the world to look through language dictionaries. When I wasn't doing that or heroics or learning about stuff about my ancestry from my uncle Pietro, I read a lot I guess."

"I usually drink beer. Not those girly colorful drinks." Beer was a man's drink. He could see that whenever his dad drank with his friends or by himself in the living room. And Billy imitated that whenever he drank while working out. Because clearly, he was a man and wanted to be perceived as such. "Probably not. And it wouldn't be a good idea to drink while we're cleaning anyways. Don't want this shit in the beer."

Which was hygienic at least.

He looks over with a skeptical look. "Seriously? Fr— People with powers and they have trouble believing souls shit? They believe that shit with religion."

"San Diego had a few good clubs. Must've been nice to just take a jog and get away from stuff. But reading? Fucking nerd." He smirks and pokes his tongue out teasingly even though it's hidden behind the cloth.

"You know we don't have hops, right?" Tommy asks, rather amused. How was he supposed to get beer when they couldn't, technically, make it?

Still, everyone's a critic.

"My booze isn't good enough for you, Curls? Almost sounds like you don't wanna hear strange mind bending shit about my weird ass life. That's okay. I'm not offended or emotionally torn by that."

And this time his tone is pure teasing. He really isn't upset. He's just amused.

"Yeah man, of course people have trouble believing in souls. When you have people with the power of gods around, aliens meddling in evolution on Earth, and magic, it can be hard to believe in the soul."

Dude, he just looks offended at being called a nerd. Not deeply. Like, mock offense.

"What do you think I should do when five minutes can feel like weeks, man? How do you think I should pass the time?"

A scoffing noise. "All this land and city and no one's thought to farm some up? Or find alien brand of hops?" He goes over to the window so he can snap the dust out of the cloth. He lets most of it get carried by the breeze before getting in a bit of fresh air. Then he goes back to it. They'd probably be done in an hour at this rate.

If nothing bad happens.

"You've already told me about your weird soul shit. I wanna call it freaky. Can I use that word? Because it's got the 'y' at the end?" He sounds skeptical with his question, but the look in Billy's eyes shows he's serious about it. He's seen how Tommy reacted to the noun itself.

"They talk about that shit in religion. I can't remember what they talk about specifically. Only that... they talk. And I don't know, count how many times you can jerk off in an hour and try to beat your record? I don't know what life is like for a fucking speedster."

"Growing stuff out of the greenhouses that isn't native can be dangerous apparently," TOmmy says. It was relatively new information for them actually. "And I haven't had it high on my list given I can't get drunk unless there's a storm."

So alcohol wasn't high highest wish? The red fruit juice at least tasted nice.

"Dude, you have literally no ideas on what my weird soul shit is. And yes, you can use freaky to refer to the weird ass soul shit specifically, thank you for asking."

As for the other thing, he has to chuckle. That's a terrible way to pass the time, he would chafe his dick off.

"Life is hell for a speedster, Curls."

"Then grow it in the greenhouse, stupid." That remark is out before he can stop it, and there's a quick glance to him to see if that was as bad as the f-word.

Goes back to cleaning. "Look, there's a lot of shit about you I'd probably find freaky as fuck. Either you can keep it all buttoned up or deal with that I'm going to find it that way. But there's loads of other freaks around," a slipup as he gets into it, but it's not directed at Tommy as he continues. "that probably make you look like an ordinary person like Buckley or someone."

He doesn't mean the word meanly, and even though he's gotten better about not using it around Tommy, he's not quite solidified that filter into place just yet.

"Don't got hops, genius," he returns immediately. Because he doesn't. And that isn't going to change. At all. They aren't at home.

As for stupid, well, Tommy doesn't react to it. He's an idiot. He knows that. The word has lost any bit it might have otherwise had.

"I was born twice," Tommy says. There, that's weird. Challenge accepted.

"Can't it be replicated or something?" he lashes back with. Billy only asks because he hasn't really used the replicators to know what they're capable of. "Or is that shit just limited to seeds you can find on this stupid planet?"

The Californian's about to ask if Tommy has a broom or something else with a stick so he could start beating the mattress free of dust before that little nugget of information is dropped like a nuke.

"Twice?" he parrots. "Is that like the Christian thing or something? Born again or something?" Because really that's what Tommy meant, right? Right?

"Can't replicate living things," he answers with a shrug. "I don't know why. It's just like that."

And that means they can't exactly hops without going somewhere that they can acquire some, another planet, and then actually putting the effort into doing it.

"First of all, I'm Jewish, so no. And secondly I mean two lives. Once as Thomas Shepherd in New Jersey, once as Thomas Maximoff, who was born in New Jersey and died in LA."

So there. He's fucking weird.

"Like I said. Strange shit."

"You're strange shit," he grumbles under his breath like he's been chastised somehow (he hasn't). It's just a bit to take in because while the Upside Down was a lot to take in, this backstory was more. Yet, the reborn thing sounds... nice. He wish he got that in Hawkins. Billy keeps that to himself for now.

The world was a lot more vast and freaky than he ever realized. He takes it all in before sitting down on the bed with a plop. A cloud of dust poofs up around him. Good thing he didn't take the cloth off yet.

"Sounds like the worst of all of that was being born in New Jersey twice."

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