Scoria

[in_extremis]

WHO: Tony and...you?
WHERE: The forge, the hospital
WHAT: Dealing with Iron Man
WHEN: Mid-September
WARNINGS: Tony's depression is a rich bouquet of alcoholism and self-destruction. It's a touch gory.


a. forge
This wasn't a completely unusual scent in the close air of the forge. The acridity was standard, the taste of coal and slag even before the regularly singed hair. It was the richness, like oil that shouldn't have been so close to the mouth of the fire, that Tony could taste in the back of his throat and had him blinking out of his distant focus to finally feel the sear that seemed to reach straight to his heart. He sucked in a sharp, wakeful breath, any other sound cut off by the metal clanging to the ground as he dropped the crucible, tearing the deadened skin of his palm with it and leaving him still again as he watched silver spread across the floor and held his scorched hand shakily aloft, struggling to remember what his intended next step was meant to be. His glove dangled from his other hand, along with a glass, chosen primarily for its cleanliness as he searched through the Deep End, and was now smudged liberally with fingerprints as Tony endlessly twisted it at his side.

The criteria for the bottle he had taken had been significantly different, though no less straightforward; as long as it wasn't a terribly lurid colour, it would probably do the job. Tony backed away from the fire, to return to the bottle on the workbench, dropping the gloves and the glass alongside it to consider his blistering hand with a sigh of disappointment. It did hurt a little more when he tried to stretch out his fingers, and he couldn't quite bring himself to, instead leaving it with a glare and propped up on the table as he searched carelessly through nearby boxes and baskets for something to wrap it in so he could keep working. Not that he was going to get much further. Dedicating the amount of resources that he had in the first place to the Iron Man had been a profound waste, and now anything else was best applied to regrouping and rebuilding, and actually protecting them against a future disaster. If he was going to build something like the armor, he was really going to have to recycle what he already had. Which meant he was going to have to go get it again.

b. hospital
When a gentle knock returned only silence in the darkened hallway of the hospital, and Tony easily pushed the door open to a largely empty room, there was an unspooling of disappointment in his chest. Not that he was exactly prepared for what he might say to Wesker, but it didn't seem like he'd have to carefully calculate the kind of provocation that would get him pinned to a wall. A cheerful 'good morning' would have been perfectly effective. Leaving a small puddle of water behind, Tony went drifting into the abandoned room, and slowly sank down onto his knees in front of the lumpy rag that he knew when he tweaked up would reveal the slightly battered scales of the Iron Man. "Morning, dear," he mumbled to it in lieu of someone that would punch him, and slid the scattered pieces he'd dredged out of the fountain alongside it. They jangled delicately, while the bottle he set down at his other side clanked on the ground with conviction. Now what? It wasn't like he could lift the imposing weight of the full set of armor and cradle it back to the forge to be melted. It wasn't even all here; there were more parts yet, glowing like embers behind his eyes, somewhere further down the hall, the full list of their individual destructive power and itemized armament scrolling endlessly at the back of his skull like white noise drowning out everything around it. He was squeezing the glass in his lap, and had to take a deep breath to release it again, and shake out his stinging, bandaged hand. He could have at least filled it with water while he was at the fountain, so he could also have something to sip.

He unstopped the bottle, so he could watch the pour, just a couple inches, then carefully set the arrangement aside. He could just ask the armor to assemble and walk itself out of here. It was probably fine. What was the worst that could happen? Plenty of people could have one drink. He wasn't doing anything anyway. He took another breath so he could push himself back up, and set out for those last few pieces. Once the full set of armor was together, then he would have to think about tearing it apart.

Comments

b.

[sunglassesincluded]

If Tony were to pay attention, he would notice one of the glowing embers moving towards his location. There is no hurry in the approach, but also no sign of attempted stealth. Wesker has expected Tony to come for his armor. He actually has expected the man much sooner. He isn't surprised that Tony is able to track his property though he is interested how exactly he did it when he spots the sorry excuse of a man kneeling on the floor in the empty former examination room Wesker has stored the majority of the armor pieces in.

The room is far enough in the back from the actually used areas to keep people from accidentally stumbling over the pieces. Wesker has cleared it out enough and an attempt at sorting the pieces of the Iron Man can be seen, but so far he hasn't had mch time to entirely solve this particular puzzle.

"I wasn't aware I still missed a few pieces." Wesker comments upon entering the room and setting the piece he has brought with him on the empty counter at the door, letting the Iron Man's head face Tony before crossing his arms and leaning against the counter next to it. He isn't dressed in his usual attire of black leather weave but is wearing his light blue shirt instead, sleeves rolled up over his elbows as he always does.

"So you have finally come to pick up your knightly armor."

[in_extremis]

Wesker's appearance brought with it a certain relief; that the travelling piece of armor hadn't made it to yet another pair of hands, and that Tony wasn't going to have to explain himself. It sounded bad enough in his head. He was up by the time Wesker made himself comfortable, bringing the glass with him and not getting much further, mirroring some of that lean with a tilt of his hips and drop of his shoulders, a slouching contrast to the intent stare he kept on the helmet. It was supposed to be a knight. That was humiliating. "Actually, I prefer something more formal for the evening. More of a day look," he replied, flicking a few fingers off of his glass toward the helmet, and only then finally considering Wesker with that same cold stare. It was piercingly steady, like Tony could calculate the average distance between his pores, despite looking so unglued. "We can look passed your sloppy work this time. Don't expect a recommendation. Finish packing it up for me."

[sunglassesincluded]

Just as Tony stares back at him, Wesker keeps his eyes on the man that so desperately tries to make himself appear to be in control. But Wesker knows that Tony knows that the latter is anything but in control, They are both aware that Wesker has beaten the many weapons of the armor before - And can do so again.

But at the very least Wesker isn't interested in picking any pointless fights. He instead uncrosses his arms and picks the helmet back up, bringing it up in front of him and with a few manipulations of his fingers prompts its faceplate to open up and give way to a better look inside.

All the while, Wesker's shaded eyes stay on Tony.

"You built this, if I understand correctly." He states. It's hardly a question. "Humans are weak, but few understand that. Even fewer are willing to accept it. And of those yet fewer will attempt to change something about the fact." Wesker closes the helmet between his hands again before tossing it over to its owner. "Yours is an interesting approach."

[in_extremis]

Having the armor taken was bad enough, Tony knew it wouldn't just be gathering dust in a back room, but watching someone else idly manipulate it like that had Tony's lip raising in a grimace that he couldn't quite control, and realizing too late how easily the helmet and its violation had drawn his focus. He shouldn't have brought the glass with him, either, because the toss should have made for an easy catch, except he had to let it hit his bandaged hand then roll into his elbow against his body with a hiss caught against his tongue between his teeth. That really didn't help his argument, "No, they aren't," brow furrowed in some frustration because Wesker had expertly intuited why he needed the armor. He was the wrong person to make the argument, that didn't mean it was the wrong argument. "People have their weaknesses," he amended. "Humans can be better." Why was he even trying to explain this? This was the longest conversation they'd had without Wesker grabbing him, like he knew exactly when that would hurt Tony more. Tony had to try, "You're probably beyond help, though, sorry, end of your evolutionary line. Hey, at least you got that jawline, it's not all bad."

[sunglassesincluded]

The obvious display of pain swiftly followed by Tony's arguments for humans not being weak feels incredibly ironic to Wesker and he allows his lips to twist into a little smirk to show his bemusement.

"Humans can be made better." He corrects. "I am intimately familiar with the limits of the human body even at peak performance and efficiency." Wesker gestures a hand at himself. "Outwardly my body hasn't changed from when I was human." Only his eyes have changed, but that's a minor detail. "And yet back then I would have struggled against your armor and probably lost." He can admit that. "You have experienced what I am capable of these days. So you are not wrong: I am the pinnacle of human evolution."

Wesker crosses his arms again and his mouth pulls back into a neutral line as a frown settles over his glasses. "But that's all merely physical. Mankind's true flaw is its mentality. The insecurities that lead to conflicts and wars and prevents them from making any progress." A pause. "That's why you lost."

[in_extremis]

"That's stupid." Tony might have just been irritated that Wesker wasn't irritated, and instead had just wilfully given Tony a remarkable amount of information without even yelling it at him. That Wesker no longer considered himself as weak and flawed as the people around him was always where these kind of guys lost the plot. Probably the same crossed wires that lead him into that ill-conceived argument. "You're the one who started the conflict, I was minding my own business. Making progress, before you showed up. Try again, and hold the bullshit about how being able to punch harder makes you the better person, that's going to embarrass both of us, we're already too aware of your insecurity, let's try to work around it."

[sunglassesincluded]

"I am almost impressed by how expertly you keep missing the point." Wesker responds, his expression unchanged but there is a little jab in his voice. There is nothing in what he has shared here that he is afraid to repeat. Most people are simply unable to understand. He had wondered about this man that clearly is intelligent and holds certain talents, but he keeps proving himself to be a lost case after all.

"But you are welcome to still being alive." He adds almost casually. "And that the city can focus on rebuilding rather than mourning that pointless death you tried to achieve so desperately." A vague gesture towards the present pieces of Tony's armor. "And for picking these up before they were swallowed by the ground."

With that he steps away from his chosen spot and turns to leave. Unlike others he has work to return to. "Try to be useful next time, Iron Man."

a. i'm sorry, this kid won't shut up

[thepurpleone]

Either someone was in or someone wasn't. That was pretty much the state of being for the forge, as Donnie had come to find. It would have only been stranger if it was someone else in there rather than Tony.

Slightly more quiet, slightly more cautious; that was Donnie's state of being ever since the night of the attack. He felt only a little better going about whatever business he had in the daylight hours, but his tendency to stay out at night had been curbed dramatically, and more often than not, he'd taken to camping out in the forge again. So far as he was concerned, it had the most security, if such things were to be measured by high-tech security doors.

After easing the door open, Donnie peeked inside, having picked up the faint sounds of someone's stirrings. He'd sacrificed one of his replication slots for a new hoodie, just as purple as the last and tugged over the bulk of his battle shell with some room to spare. Over his shoulder he had his usual bag with all the tools he'd amassed and whatever project components he wanted to work on, his hoverboots slung over the other shoulder.

It wasn't so much that he needed the forge itself nowadays so much as that he just liked the space for what it was, and the odd ambiance of someone else at work when they weren't picking at some project together. He was also hoping some of that anxiety and tension in being down underground for so long had the time to bleed off, and while things to that extent had been replaced with an entirely different sort of anxiety he could have done without, the turtle still yearned for some normality. Glimpsing Tony, he wondered if that would be possible.

He hadn't gone too far past the door, hesitating as he took things in. His eyes settled upon the molten metal on the floor, frowning a little before his eyes adjusted to the lighting to find Tony.

"...everything okay?"

[in_extremis]

"Always," Tony readily answered. He was watching Donnie just as cautiously from the workbench, though, gone still with his burnt hand dropped below the edge of the table in a very casual lean, the other stretched out to brace while one finger continued to tap in a tiny, restless perpetuity. The kid was at least the best case scenario when the door slid open and Tony had cringed away from the light, on guard and glancing around quickly for the most noxious possible chemical reaction on hand to send them running right back out. It still wasn't ideal, but Donnie had made himself enough of a fixture that it wasn't a given that Tony would have to talk to him and innovate some new way to irritate him, and he seemed content enough for Tony to continue to talk to nothing at all.

"Why, are you bringing me a problem?" He said it like an accusation, but something different to solve and restructure his brain would have been welcome.

[thepurpleone]

The turtle squinted at him; he probably should have anticipated that sort of response. He nudged the door closed behind him, pressing it back with a heel until he heard the locks engage again before stepping further in.

"Well, I wasn't followed if that's what you mean," he said even as his eyes trailed back towards the door like he was second guessing himself. He shook his head, setting his bag down before looking around for something to maybe start cleaning up the pooling metal. It wasn't his mess, sure, but it was habit. He liked keeping a clean workspace. Anyway, hot metal on the floor was a hazard. He looked around the forge itself for the proper equipment to deal with it.

"Although if you happen to have anything for a projectable, interactive holocomputer screen, I would not object."

[in_extremis]

That was a weird and specific enough answer that Tony had to admit, "It wasn't," earning Donnie a suspicious squint right back. "Have you been picking more fights?" Tony had to figure out how to get this school thing in motion, because Donnie clearly had an idle hands and questionable friends problem if this harassing girls on the network thing was becoming a habit.

The squint became irritable as Donnie made it clear he was going to make the mess his problem, though Tony only made an aborted move to draw away from the bench and had to commit to his lean to keep his hand between himself and the table, flapping the other one impatiently, "Leave it, it's fine. It'll be easier to deal with later."

The request was more what Tony had intended to ask after, though he sighed like he was being terribly inconvenienced as he started tipping baskets again to spill across the table, searching. "Just a screen? So it's portable? What's in it for me?"

[thepurpleone]

"You say that like I picked the last one," he pouted, blowing out his cheeks as he remained devoted to looking for some gloves. At the very least he could pick up the fallen crucible. In any case, it was something to busy his hands with.

Donnie pulled his sleeves back, the show of bandaging brief as he tugged on an oversized pair of mittens that had two fingers too many. Regarding the floor, he stepped around to carefully pick up the fallen receptacle.

"For a wrist computer- more like a bracer, but yes," he said regarding portability as he set the weighty cup at the edge of the forge and then more or less let the gloves slide off his hands. Tony's insisted stance behind the workbench had him arch a brow, but he didn't seem to think too much of it.

"...what do you need?"

[in_extremis]

That bandage looked to Tony like Donnie had got that fight that he and his friend were spoiling for, so he raised an eyebrow as Donnie moved around, only until he couldn't crane his neck anymore and went back to searching through parts. "That's what it looks like from here," he pushed. "Thing about this place is, everyone is meant to be extraordinary, specially picked. You can't go swinging your dick around and assume it's going to be an easy win. Probably should think a little harder about what you want to get out of it." If it was some kind of prison rules thing that Donnie was going for, picking a little girl to make his display of dominance probably wouldn't have worked out under the most favourable of circumstances.

Despite the warning, Tony continued conversationally, assuming Donnie wasn't actually asking after anything Tony would need, "Your phone, probably. No sense carrying it around if you're also going to have this bracelet, might as well put it to use. And some sand. How are you with glass?"

A

[ziedrich_bearer]

His purposes in coming by are so very thoroughly destroyed by what Gladio finds when he pushes the door open. Noise. Smell. A man seemingly distracted by hot metal.

It's probably better to wait, to check in, to make sure the man with all the presence and apparently not enough self concern finishes up and notices him. Better not to scare Tony into hurting himself by accident.

[in_extremis]

The door opening was not nearly as easy to miss as his skin melting, a flare of light pouring into the comparatively dark forge, burning at its heart and dropping off quickly to shadowy corners. It made Tony squint, or that might have been a flinch, as he rapidly wrapped the first rag he blindly found around his scorched hand and drew it taut, a flurry of movement that had sent bolts and ball bearings scattering in his search, and which ceased abruptly for Tony to watch the dark figure in the doorway a little defensively while the small parts continued to skip and roll across the floor. "I usually have an appearance fee, if you're here for a show," he greeted. "You'd have to settle that with my assistant. If it's singles you're offering, I can handle them personally, just let me set up the sound system."

[ziedrich_bearer]

"Trust me, if I had singles, I'd save them just for you, Stark," Gladio laughs as he moves in. "Came to investigate some possible commission but if you're not in the mood for it, that's totally chill as well. Don't want to stress you out man."

[in_extremis]

Tony had to hold himself back from eagerly jumping at the chance to be helpful, diminishing instead as he reminded himself how poorly that always went and eyeing Gladio with new suspicion. "Uh-huh. That's why you came all the way down here, because it was chill, man," he pressed, the phrasing sounding so much more stiff and unnatural from him than it had in Gladio's easy rumble. The forge wasn't exactly a beacon of activity, most people were happy to never have to come this far out. "Don't worry, if it's something kinky you need to keep off the network, I've heard it all, there's no judgment in this room. At Stark Industries, our only aim is to satisfy. And my aim is excellent."

[ziedrich_bearer]

"No, I came down here for a purpose, but I'm not going to mess things up if you've got other stuff to do. It's called respect."

Though then Tony says kinky and Gladio blushes. Thing was, his sex life wasn't that... you know... That.

"N-noct and I are fine that department. Thanks. No, I've got some students and I was hoping to have things they could aspire toward."

[in_extremis]

That excuse didn't make Tony look any less suspicious. This wasn't the place for someone to come looking for him if they expected to find him sipping a cocktail and tanning his ass, of course he had stuff he was doing. That suspicion bled maybe a little unfairly into Gladio's stumbling blush, making Tony challenge, "Are you?," while Gladio tried to move swiftly passed it. "Listen, we all do our best work when we're having our needs met, you wouldn't deny someone a proper meal..."

Gladio's attempt to control the topic was immediately effective, though, despite Tony talking as though he couldn't hear it, making him trail off with some surprise widening his eyes, all of the energy in his illustrative hands draining to leave them still as he rerouted. "I've been thinking about that, too, actually, making sure these kids aren't missing out on an education, it's bad enough that they're here and have to do manual labour to keep from starving or freezing to death, we're supposed to be more advanced than that, there's enough of us, this doesn't have to be a child labour camp." He took a breath. Had Gladio asked him something?

b

[wearingthestars]

Billy's face had brightened at seeing the unexpected form of Tony in the hospital, but that light quickly faded when he saw the state he was in, brows knitting in concern.

"Hey," he greeted carefully, head tilting as he took in the sight of him, and that mangled armor. "...what happened?"

[in_extremis]

There wasn't any amount of gentling of his voice that would have stopped Tony from flinching at it, both too focused on the armor and not wanting to be seen. He kept his back to the door, head tilting as he scanned the darkened armor like he was searching for something in it now, a reason to consume his focus so he didn't have to turn around as he said, "Nothing," then, "Stress testing." With a shake of his head, he muttered, "There's always room for improvement."

[wearingthestars]

"..." Billy frowned, and came round to get a better look at Tony and the armor. "Looks like a lot of stress," he noted, glancing between the two and their shared parallels. "...you doing all right?" he pressed carefully, knowing the stress the pair of them had been under trying to stop the volcano.

[in_extremis]

While the armor was in disparate pieces, they were scraped but largely intact, no obvious warping or cracks among them. They were just dimmed, unpolished and grounded, looking heavy where they sat. "Always," Tony readily answered, slow to look away from them, then with a reluctant, sidelong glance Billy's way before tipping his head like he might be able to hide in the unmanaged hair that dropped across his brow. "I'll get it out of your way in no time," he promised. "Just figuring out the...tactical extraction." He clearly wasn't very far into the planning, just sitting here, and gave a glance around like he might spot something to prove that he was being productive. "I saw the Soldier." Or a distraction.

[wearingthestars]

"No rush," Billy offered, moving to join him. He glanced briefly at that glance but didn't address it. "I can help. When you're ready."

His face brightened then, some colour in his cheeks and he nodded. "I saw him too. Guess all that crying before was...dumb," he tried to laugh it off and flashed Tony a grateful smile. "...thank you for that though...helping me down there."

[in_extremis]

Tony gave a small shrug and toss of his head, and lifted a hand to Billy's shoulder to assure him it wasn't dumb. "Just embarrassing. You get really snotty. You wanna see the pictures?" The hand withdrew guiltily, to tuck with the bandaged one against his chest, not sure if he should be accepting that thanks. If he had helped Billy in the first place with the volcano, they wouldn't have been in the situation where they were so cut off.