revivalproject

WHO: Various people who made wishes, and anyone who spots them around town
WHERE: All over Temba, mostly the hotel
WHAT: Tony is doing his best to fulfill wishes
WHEN: Through the end of the month
WARNINGS: None yet.
NOTES: Sorry, this one is also structurally a little weird, get weird with me. The names are just a starting point, don't assume a thread is locked to that character, and feel free to discover these things without Tony involved at all. If you want to unwrap this thing you randomly found in the hall with your girlfriend, only god can judge you.

DELIVERIES

eddie
A surprisingly small, flat package, left right outside his door so it wasn't missed. It was just wound in ribbon left over from the Christmas tree.
Inside was something that looked superficially like the communication device that the Agrii had provided, but the message upon activating the screen read, Sorry about the selection. We'll digitize yours.
The headphones from the tape player Eddie already stole were compatible with what turned out to be a palm-sized collection of the tracks on the karaoke machine.

lark
This only got as far as the hotel lobby, and only had a paper bow on it, because it was about the same size as the check in desk. It kind of looked like a massive printer, with large feeding rolls and a spidery array of needles poised over them. There were hints as to what this actually was, like the large bobbins at either end that seemed to feed into each other, which might explain why this thing didn't seem to plug in to anything. Or the single big button on the side that someone had seen fit to simply lable LOOM.

donnie
Careful with this, it seems to be a bunch of loose parts wrapped in a big, delicate sheet of paper sitting on the forge. Hopefully, that doesn't get torn in the process, because on the inside there appears to be a blueprint? map? is that the volcano? If Donnie doesn't recognize the schematics for a particle accelerator on sight, he might know that equation for radiation decay, or at least understand the doodle of Iron Man lounging on a row of heavier elements in the margins.

HOUSECALLS

~~billy~~ soldier
[A text arrives, at first with just an attached image. There's snow gathered at the bottom of the wall in it, so this must be the outside of a building. Where the flat surface has been cleared of dead vines and ice, thick, black lines that must be charcoal draw a four-square grid. The axes are labled: LOVE, HATE and NEVER, ALWAYS]

What do you think?

jan/peter b./may
Jan's tailoring was impeccable, as always. It wasn't the costume that had Tony hesitatingly anxiously at the door and in need of some encouragement as he patted down the front of it, then scratched at his beard. The only opinion that really mattered was a baby's, and she must have had a very distinct image of this figure already in mind that Tony only realized he could be completely ruining at this tender age once he was dressed. Still, the way he worried over it was a muttered, "Are you sure about this...?," with another pat at the liberties Jan had taken with the design.

By the time he was standing at Peter's door, Tony had practiced a smile enough times that it was already soldered into place and he looked every inch confident as he lounged against the doorframe with a pair of boxes balanced on his cocked hip. Maybe that was a few too many liberties of his own. "Is she still awake?" he greeted, with a very unconvincing show of a whisper that was just a rasp in his voice, lifting his chin to try to see over Peter's shoulder. His knock had already been louder than necessary, a jarring sound in the darkened hallway that had been muffled quiet in the snow. Even a kid who had tired herself out keeping her dad on the run all afternoon would be curious about this late night intrusion.

steve
The stars were already starting to fade, overtaken by the deep blue of the sun just over the horizon, and Tony was still in the red jacket. He might as well stay awake at this point, it was only rational, and if he stayed perched on the roof of the civic centre, he knew he could set a watch to Steve appearing for some excruciating morning workout. A run along the beach in the sun was much more satisfying; there were better ways to punish oneself than getting up before the light to battle the snow alone. This was the hour for reasonable people to sip at a chilled mug of coffee with their feet dangling over the side of the building, shivering slightly in a Santa costume but blank-eyed with his focus on the thirty projects safely warm in the basement of the library. Occasionally, Tony's nose scrunched and his breath was a heavy bloom of a sigh in the cold as D.A.T.A. refused to do as he was told, and had to be diverted to get control of the mess that he had just made instead before Tony had to go down there himself. He hardly noticed the time ticking by, the pool behind him slowly filling with falling snow, and mounding on the final gift that was left waiting in a box at the pool's edge.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Little Bear was making it very difficult to keep from patting him with a bitten smile, so hopefully Tony could make it look like he was just trying to redirect that curious nose, only to mostly forget his own charade and be left worrying the dog's ear restlessly as he watched the machine respond to Lark's touch with surprise.

The other performance he was meant to be maintaining was wilfully abandoned with a very unconvincing thoughtful roll of his eyes up to the ceiling as he ventured, "I might know a thing or two about that." He'd done much worse for a kiss. He gave a small shake of his head then though, waving his free hand to continue, "It looks like I could have tied a couple of sticks together and called it a loom and it would have worked just fine."

Oh Lark is trying her best not to smile knowingly. Little Bear was capable of getting many people out of their shells. Even Wesker some. She is used to his skills. And Little Bear, well, he's happy to sit there, tail thumping the ground, as he enjoys the attention.

"Oh, I can do an improvised loom of that form," Lark says with a smile. "It just does not work for quick creation of a quantity of quality cloth. This will do wonders for us all."

She leans over to kiss Tony's cheek.

"Thank you, my dear."

Tony wasn't sure he understood the difference, but he was never really meant to when it came to magic, and he was happy enough to accept the kiss with his eyes closed and hand to his heart in ecstasy instead of arguing about the inexplicable-by-definition. This time. "Please, this is just putting you to work, you can thank me when I can get you a paycheque for it, too," he insisted. "You could have wished for a Lamborghini, you know. A foot rub. A hot, young assistant in an indecent uniform. There's always next year."

Oh what a silly man he is.

"I presume that a pay check is similar to a letter of credit? I do not require those here. Though I cannot say what a Lamborghini is. Is that a merchant family where you are from?"

Though the idea of a footrub is... well, she does long for it.

"My dear, you are plenty indecent without a uniform. It seems in your nature. For now, I will be happy that I can provide warm clothes for everyone. Does this take multiple thicknesses of thread?"

Lark's interpretation of Lamborghini was as close as she really needed to understand, and while it made Tony laugh he did nod and tried to sober enough to mutter, "Exactly, really luxury collection, the kind of thing all of the fans at the circus were promising to get you at the stage door."

He had a brief moment of conflict as he had to decide between holding Little Bear's face and bragging about his creation, but bragging was very difficult to resist when Lark was already so enthused, so he swept away from the dog to lay a hand along the machine and declare, "She takes it any way you'll give it to her." It was in his nature. "Full disclosure, I've never really looked at an actual loom, per se, beyond, you know, in ancient history museums or Cap's bedroom, so I was kind of riffing here. I do plenty of weaving myself, though, just a different kind, usually, and my research guys have developed some really extraordinary fabrics that I put my name on, I read the paper, so I made some educated guesses."

Why were people at the circus being promised more than performances? Nevermind, she doesn't need to know. Tony's time and world are just inherently strange to her. And there is nothing to be done for that.

"It's alright that you haven't. This machine, it knows what it is, what it is for. And my magic knows it as well. We will work well together. But come, we should go to my room. I need to measure you now."

She doesn't know how the sort of work he does involves weaving but she won't argue. She will, however, get his sizes. He needs something as a gift of thanks.

Jan had so much experience shopping with and sewing for him that she had hardly needed to look at Tony twice to produce a costume, so while Tony's shoulders tensed guiltily at the ten projects he should have been off to focus on now, it was hard for him to turn down what sounded like ten minutes of undivided, hands-on attention. He had to take that kind of thing where he could get it anymore, and maybe it would give him a better insight to Lark's process so he could improve on his loom model. He was already up and attentively ready when he insisted, "You have to believe me, I never do this sort of thing, I at least buy a gal a coffee before I let her take me back to her place. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."

Well of course she might not need that. But Lark made clothing that fit like a dream. Clothing that would not take stains or rustle against itself. She could make clothing that would not tear and could turn a blade.

Jan was an artist, but Lark? Lark was a mage. (And who knew what they might be able to do together.)

"My workshop, Tony, not my room," she says, chuckling to herself. "And you have already slept in my bed, so I do not see that you need to worry about being in the workshop. This time you aren't even breaking in."

"That's much kinkier, that's worse," Tony accused, muttered through a smirk as he offered an arm to escort Lark wherever she wanted to take them. He drew up then with a hand to his chest and chin lifted, like this was a very noble display of humility as he admitted, "Okay, I may have done some of my own damage to my reputation, but in my defense, you weren't supposed to know anyone was breaking in." And maybe they could both ignore the pathetic display of him and not bring up where he may or may not have collapsed.

Really? Lark rolls her eyes and smiles warmly at him. What a silly man. She does take his arm though. Little Bear stands, tail waggling, and runs a little circle around them.

"You generated enough noise that it would have been a wonder for me to sleep through it, Tony."

And that didn't matter now. Not given they were safe at the moment.

"Upstairs then. You need measured."

Jumping on the opportunity that Lark so naively presented, Tony said, "Listen, now we're getting to the real problem here, we've been focused on the wrong numbers. You're not sleeping well enough. A proper, restful sleep, and you wouldn't have heard a thing. I'm very good with my hands, I'll show you some day, I must have been incredibly quiet. Have you tried massage?"

"I'm sleeping fine, Tony. My pillows are spelled to make it easier to sleep," she points out.

"This issue was you were noisy and bleeding and I have a very protective dog."

IT had been Little Bear that had given everything away.

"Oh, speaking of problems," Tony muttered at the magical pillows. That couldn't have been reliable, there must have been a nagging worry at the back of Lark's mind that they would turn into sheep, and she should have been more focused on that than Tony waking her up with such a disastrous mess and never actually cleaning it up. Less pertly, he mumbled, "Won't happen again."

They were truly reliable, because Lark knew what she was doing.

"If it does, you are always welcome. Now come along."

She moves for the stairs, pulling him along with her.

Suit

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