revivalproject | Obsolete

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Obsolete

WHO: Tony and open!
WHERE: The university, the mine hole...?, the beach caves
WHAT: Fixing the zombie problem
WHEN: Through the October biohazard event
WARNINGS: Gore, probably! Zombie stuff.

a. the beach
It was quiet, like the sand and the fog that hung so densely over the water cushioned any sound. Even Tony's footsteps, which had been so trudgingly heavy to Tony's ears on the road, were deadened as he reached the beach, and the creak and rattle of his armor as he moved was softened to static, like the hush of the waves. The fog was thick enough here that he had to pause and squint through it as he broke through the treeline, trying to spot the shape of the radio tower that should have been a clear landmark. It was leaning, precariously. If anyone not yet accounted for had made their way down here, and Tony suspected they had, to keep the water to one side and away from where the zombies must have been congregating around the sounds and lights of the city, the tower might not have been working for them. Tony hissed, and started a jog toward the caves, slowed by the heavy metal, and the regular ring of the scabbard at his side bouncing into his armored thigh.

It was only as he was hauling the weight of the metal up the rocks that he heard it. He had to stop, sweat from the effort quickly chilling in the cool air to raise goosebumps along his skin as he listened. A slap-slap-slap, like someone running, barefoot across the stones, echoing in the caves. Not the shamble of the zombies struggling to animate their limbs. Tony took a breath, could feel the call at the back of his throat, and it came out as a sigh when he realized it wasn't just one set of footsteps. Slap-slap-slap-slap.

The fog didn't seem so smothering as Tony turned to climb quickly, the clanking of his armor like an alarm and every rattling breath a siren.

b. the mine
Littering the city with as many posters as possible to draw people to the safety of the university was only really effective if the entire zombie horde didn't descend on the same building. And it was temporary, armor against a battering that had to be redirected. On a small scale, that was easy; Tony could spot movement in the fog, and shout, "Hey, come and get it!," or bang a metal fist against a concrete wall to ring like a dinner bell. Any sound, any movement, and they'd come lurching after him, immediately distracted from whatever had been driving their struggling brains a moment ago. As a mass, though, they were formidable.

The bigger problem was, even Tony's fireworks had been confiscated. The more complex devices, with controlled chemical reactions, timers, pressurizers, remote controls and kill switches, all of those were all his, and all immediately useless in the dead city. What their alien babysitter recognized as more computer, or less immediately as explosive, suddenly didn't work like the systems Tony built were sensitive to the whims of the weather. And what he needed, something that just blew up if he threw it hard enough, had to be built again, against the hope that whoever was keeping his toys away from him wouldn't notice for long enough.

The top of the greenhouse provided a clear vantage point over the gaping void that was the hole in the earth where he was supposed to die. Making a quick explosion, that was easy; Tony could assemble a grenade with his eyes completely unfocused, staring into the darkness all the while, until he had the mass drawn back by his shoulder in a slingshot to send in a perfect arc toward that emptiness. Most of them exploded before they reached the mine; some hit the wall a few feet deep, and rained fire into the depths of it, a silent lightshow at this distance. They were all as effective as Tony thought, drawing huddled groups of zombies toward the commotion, managing to lure a few of them over the edge. As a mass, though...

There had to be some way to set up a show.

c. the university
D.A.T.A.'s aperture looked dull and still. Watching over the grounds would be his job right now, if he wasn't in Tony's lap, his motherboard exposed to search fruitlessly for some loosened wire, sign of discharge, warped board, that could be fixed to bring him back to life. Instead, it was Tony that glanced up occasionally, his muttered apologies long since fallen silent, peering out into the dark through the narrow gap at the top of the window's reinforcement. The view was always the same. A dense carpet of fog, swirled by slow, jerky movements, and a brilliant ceiling of stars. The thunder continued to rumble, like it came from the fog itself, the stormclouds clinging to the earth. Tony barely heard it anymore, like the occasional pop from the candles flickering around the foyer. His busy hands slowed as he watched the stars with longing.

It was the strange light that darted between them, fizzing like lightning, that snapped his focus down to an unfamiliar movement outside by the gates. It wasn't loping or shambling, but moved with awareness. Intent. D.A.T.A. bounced as he hit the ground and Tony vaulted himself off of the ladder he was perched on to see over the barrier, then went sliding to a stop on the polished floors in front of the lever that he had to haul up and over to crank the doors open. They groaned, and thundered like the fog as they reluctantly parted, pouring light out into the night. Tony cut through it like a shadow, and could feel all of the hungry attention snap toward the signs of life. He didn't hesitate, winding back and pitching something into the sky, where it popped with a shriek and a flare of light, exposing him just long enough to wave impatiently to the figure in the dark while the zombies tracked the noise with their dead eyes.

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That must have been enough to get them out of the torturous loop, and Donnie didn't seem so primed now to raise his voice again or throw himself at the door, so Tony took the chance to take a deep breath with an illustrative hand wafting up by his chest for Donnie to do the same. Only after that was done, and some system defragmenting had occurred, could he ask, "And what are you going to do?," so Donnie could actually try to answer with some clarity. Back to where Tony had tried to lead him, back to assembling a plan.

Breathe, right. It was difficult to do when everything just seemed so tight, so tense, but he tried, nevertheless.

"Stick to the high roads," Donnie said, finally allowing himself to try thinking through his actions. Motive was clear, execution...tricky. "Head back to the warehouse, see if he went back there or left a note. Leave one there for him if he isn't."

Okay, that was progress, and while Tony nodded slowly like he was listening and considering, he tried backing away again, further into the room and away from the walls, watching for Donnie to move with him. "You're building the errors into the program," he pointed out. "Hit me with another one, this time with less 'if's."

Move he did, perhaps still spurred by the thought that this was a tenuous middle grounds they'd built at best, afraid it might shatter again at the slightest mistake. But this was sounding more like how Tony would talk with him, and nodding, Donnie acknowledged the problems and reconsidered his plan of attack.

"Hit the main gathering places, direct him to a defensible location- here. Notations like the ones already left around. I'll work in a circuit, start within the square's perimeter, check back in within an hour or sooner, allowing for time in case of being held up by zombie activity. Avoiding confrontation as much as possible. Rest up, get and give an updates. After the first check-in, I'll move towards the southwest. I can use the forge as a safe zone while I'm in that area. Can't make any promises on how long I'll be out there though...but I will come back here as soon as I'm able to."

There were still weak points in the concept that had to be reinforced, and Tony's furrowed brow and tongue between his teeth suggested he was going to take aim at them. Before he could, though, he had stopped moving back, his expression becoming puzzled and the challenge evaporating. Now it was tell Leo to come here, and Donnie would come back, and Tony couldn't work out what or if something had changed. "Who said you were a liability?" he asked instead, looking skeptical.

The question wasn't one he expected, the reminder making him flinch visibly.

"No one. It's...just something I figured..." His actions had gotten Tony hurt, had made his brother worry. His inability to gauge people, so willing to trust and eager to please, only ended up getting him burned. The soft-shelled one, the one who based all his worth on his inventions and technical prowess. He hugged his staff close again.

"...I can't fix things. But I'm still trying to. I just...don't know how else to deal with...this," he said, looking towards the now somewhat distant doors. "But what I do know is that I need Leo to be safe. And anyone else that might still be out there."

That might have explained why Donnie thought Leonardo would be willing to come back here. The idea that his brother was suggesting these insecurities to Donnie was just another way that Tony still couldn't take responsibility, even when Donnie had been pointing him so directly to the problem. The realization made Tony's brow pinch apologetically, and he had to scrub his hand across it like he was exhausted so he still sounded familiarly sarcastic as he pointed out, "I was selfish enough that you figured I must believe these things about you, but you're the one that did something to me? Come on, kid." The distance was supposed to have offered Donnie some clarity, disconnect him from Tony's abuse, but instead he must have been dwelling on it and Tony had to calculate what else could possibly reverse the damage. "Doesn't Leonardo appreciate how you look out for him like this?" he tried. "Isn't Dr. Wesker proud? Those are the people that care about you. It doesn't matter what some idiot thinks."

Of course he'd been dwelling on it! Donnie wasn't the type to leave such things alone, he wasn't the sort to let things go. If there was a problem then he just felt the need to fix it, especially when it seemed he was an integral part of it. But maybe that was why it was impossible to fix to begin with if the math had been all wrong from the start. He didn't know. That was what drove him crazy.

"You've got it backwards. Leo's the one that's been looking out for me. He's been throwing himself in the line of fire so I wouldn't have to deal with anyone when things got out of hand. He's...better at figuring people out, but I think he's been having a hard time figuring out who to trust."

Being too eager to trust or uncertain about who to trust, Donnie wasn't sure which was the better problem to have. There probably was no 'better' in this.

"...are you implying that you're the idiot? Because I never thought you were. You do such amazing things. You give one hundred percent, maybe even more. You do them without asking, without caring if people notice. ...which...I guess is okay, but... as long as it helps and people are happy and things are functioning then I figure that's... Well, it's got to be enough, right?"

Was he talking about Tony or himself? The lines were blurred, but the last thing sat heavy in his chest.

"If you didn't really care about me then you wouldn't have done all the things you have. You wouldn't be trying to keep me in here while you volunteer to throw yourself outside."

It wasn't Leonardo in front of Tony then demanding to go back out into the jaws of the zombies, so Tony only let his chin drop as Donnie tried on that argument, raising a skeptical eyebrow and waiting for Donnie to recognize what was happening right at this moment. There was no denying that Leo would ferociously protect his brother, but it was self-evidently a reciprocal relationship.

Tony couldn't make any further argument if he wanted to, though, because he was startled out of that dubious stare, tensing with a protective hand curled against his chest again while Donnie flipped entirely against the narrative he thought they all agreed on. The one Donnie chose instead then was tempting to agree with, Tony spent a lot of time telling himself that he wanted to help people, he even told himself he adored Donnie, like he knew what that meant. What he did know for sure, though, and Donnie needed to learn faster than Tony had in his life, was, "People who care about you don't make you doubt yourself like that. Not when you deserve the stars." He glanced away, like he could find the right way to apologize for making Donnie feel that way, but he could only shrug with his lips pressed tightly together against his frustration. He wouldn't have accepted his dad just saying he was sorry.

It was no lie that the brothers would do anything and everything possible for each other if things got bad, and Donnie wasn't about to deny that. He still stubbornly held onto his point though, because he was the one behind the reinforced doors.

"Sometimes they don't mean to, I think..." he said quietly, still looking searchingly at Tony despite the other avoiding to look back. Tony wasn't special there, it was hardly the first time Donnie had wondered at what good he was doing. As much as he loved his family, the times he'd been encouraged by them were far and few. He could usually count the number of times his father decided to give them more attention than his television within a year on one, maybe two hands if he was lucky.

He collapsed his staff, going out beating his way through zombies no longer a thought to entertain, but he still hadn't been told if there were better exits.

"...are the windows locked down? A back door? Please, I need to get back out there."

Edited 2024-10-19 22:28 (UTC)

The click of the staff was the cue for Tony's shoulders to finally release as well, and he huffed a short sigh from the tension he had been holding in his chest now that the threat of punishment was retracted. He must have shown he had learned something and didn't need the lesson reinforced yet another time. He could only give a short nod with a sniff to Donnie's quiet words, because he was pretty sure he never meant to hurt the kid so much. That was the problem he was trying to avoid; it just came so naturally.

"You can get on the roof," he muttered reluctantly, and tried to hedge, "when you're ready." With a pleading pinch of his brow, he rolled a shoulder back to indicate the security, zombie-free for the time being, where Donnie could catch his breath, think it through, maybe even eat something. "I can set a flare, in the meantime. I'll make it blue, so he knows it's for him. Or purple."

Donnie arched a brow at the the sigh, but Tony's concerns that he'd actually meant to hit him were a whole different thing to unpack. He'd thought they were well past the fear of that issue, but for all that Tony worried about his negative influence on Donnie, Donnie wondered just what Tony had seen him as then?

He huffed his own sigh, forcing those thoughts to dispel, wishing that knot in his chest would cooperate.

"Blue, definitely," he answered quickly regarding the flare. Blue was Leo's. Maybe paired with any notes Donnie would leave, that would be enough.

"I'm ready." As ready as he felt he could be. There was no chance he'd be able to rest or eat or think anything more through without knowing Leo was safe.

Tony tried to cover his wince by keeping his eyes closed for a serene nod, of course, right now, that was what he meant, and when he opened them again, it was for a desperate cast around for any reason that would keep Donnie secure. Maybe if Steve was here; everyone listened to Steve. Knowing he wouldn't be heard, the best Tony could do was abruptly move back toward the door and his defences on hand, stepping around D.A.T.A.'s inert shell on the floor.

When he returned, it was with an expectant nod for Donnie to hold out his hands, then apologetic reroute toward the candle covered table instead where he spread out the handful of distraction flares that he had used to get Donnie inside, and the parts of his armor that he thought were adaptable enough to fit. Even then, he couldn't really help talking, and he started, "If he shows up, and you're not here..." only trailing off when he realized it wasn't really Donnie's problem that Leonardo was never going to forgive Tony for letting his brother go back out into the fog. After a beat, Tony finished weakly, "I'll get him to wait." Because it was working so well with Donnie.

This was worse than Raph's insistence in playing charades, Donnie looking at Tony before following after him again, but at least it only took him a moment before he'd tucked his weapon away to free up his hands for whatever Tony felt he could use out there.

Did he really want to go? Part of him didn't- who in their right mind would? But Leo was the only family he had here, and when it came to family rationality just took a back seat.

"...he thinks you hate him," he said. "I don't know what you guys talked about the last time...he said you'd made him a gameboy..? But... I don't know. It didn't sound like that talk went well." And if it was still that bad between them, Donnie wasn't sure what Tony would be able to do to make Leo wait, if Leo even bothered to stay once he found out who was here.

If only they could be making Donnie a whole custom suit of armor that would shield him from any bite or scratch a zombie could muster. Then Tony's hands might have been busy enough to save him from hesitating, searching for any excuse or acceptable explanation for his behaviour while he just twisted a bracer around in his fingers. Ultimately, he could only give a helpless shrug, and a tight smile of apology for being so pathetically helpless about his own actions. He understood what he had done to make Leonardo think he hated him as well as he understood what made Donnie think he was a disappointment. "All I did was agree with him," he admitted, with a shake of his head because clearly that wasn't actually what had happened, just the version he was telling himself, then nodded for Donnie to at least give him the grace of offering an arm for Tony to focus on making this armor fit while he spoke. "And I thought the Gameboy would, I don't know--Mario Kart would make me happy." That was the problem, really. Leonardo had never said he wanted a Gameboy. Tony really only had thought about himself. It hadn't even occurred to him until now that the kid had actually hated it.

Donnie wasn't quite sure what to say either, so both of them standing there awkwardly wasn't fixing the matter. Obligingly he held his right arm out, hesitating only to gesture at his left and the computer bracer on his left. Should he take it off? Lot of good it was doing him when power wasn't working...

"Look, if you agreed with him then that's your mistake because he in fact does not know everything," he said bluntly, which really was his usual tone, an attempt to- what? Lighten the mood? Leo only said so much about what happened and Tony clearly wasn't going to clarify but after everything else, Donnie suspected it probably wouldn't be so easy.

"He would have liked it if he'd gotten it. You need a new delivery man, my friend. Anyway, I don't think he's mad about the game thing- well, not all the way because I'm sure he's disappointed to not have received something he was supposed to."

Donnie's gesture at his arm didn't need any further explanation, Tony had been chafing against his own broken machines since the lights went out, so he was ready to offer in a mutter, "I'll try to get it working," as he nodded to swap it out for the sleek metal that would break a zombie's bite. Ensuring that the armor was secure gave him something to focus on as he gave a breathy laugh, not sure he was allowed to be laughing at all. Still, out of the side of his mouth, he replied, "I'll try telling him that when nothing else convinces him to stay."

He had to slow as he tried to process what Donnie was telling him, that they knew that Tony had given Leonardo a Gameboy specifically, but also that he didn't have it, and had never gotten it in the first place. It took him a moment to land on annoyance, a tick at the corner of his mouth and brief roll of his eyes, at what he had to assume was Steve apparently managing to tell the kids about it even when he refused to deliver it. That still didn't explain where it went, and Tony took his time shaking out then holding up the leather jacket he had been wearing under the armor, big enough on Donnie to surely fit over his shell, offering it for Donnie to slip into so he wouldn't get cold and start to shut down again out there in the crisp night. "Somebody's been stealing your stuff," was the best he could conclude by then, and it explained why Leonardo would find the gesture so disappointing. Tony knew of several people in the city who took things that weren't theirs, and not only hadn't done anything about it, but hadn't even thought that it would effect the kids. "I'll talk to him, get it back," seemed like a very belated offer.

Edited 2024-10-24 00:20 (UTC)

There was a brief moment where Donnie looked anxiously as his precious bracer computer was removed, not that he didn't trust Tony with it- the man had helped him make it after all!- but just not having it made him feel so strange. Naked. Which was weird when he only wore so much clothing to begin with, sure, but he got twitchy without his tech and at least even if it wasn't working, it was still there.

The weight of the armor that took its place was unfamiliar but still something, the metal a familiar feel against his skin, cool but oddly comforting. "That might do it, if only to stall him as he tries to figure out how to prove otherwise," he said, a smile quirking at his lips.

He wasn't expecting the jacket, pulling it on mostly out of reflex. "Not my color," was also reflex, but he hoped it was taken for the joke it was meant to be, his brow softening as he murmured a thanks. Unfortunately the suggestion that someone had been stealing their things scratched at a still too fresh wound, making his gaze slide away briefly before he schooled it back into position where it was supposed to be. Had Tony heard about what happened with his tablet? Who hadn't? Well...Max hadn't, so maybe people had better things to do than watch the livestream of that trainwreck interrogation.

"...yeah," he said, sounding at least relieved that attempts would be made, but at least the smile that resurfaced didn't need to be forced.

If it was Eddie that had been pocketing the kids' things, then it might only take a conversation, and the promise that Tony wouldn't out him as long as all of the goods were returned. That was the best case scenario. The worst case was that it was Wesker, who Tony was pretty sure wouldn't be so open to negotiation. Solving the problem then would take less direct means, like bypassing the doctor altogether to collect the stolen items for himself. At least the zombies meant that Wesker might be sufficiently distracted. Tony was already planning his route as he had to nod back at Donnie, less in response and more in reluctant acceptance that he was running out of ways to delay him.

"Squeeze, and throw," he instructed, holding up the flares before stuffing them into one of the jacket's pockets, then the lighter that went into another.

The lapses between their responses made him unnecessarily anxious as he hoped the progress they'd made here wouldn't backslide. Donnie couldn't find any other things to say to reassure Tony that he'd be careful, but he knew the one thing he couldn't say was that he'd stay. Not until he knew Leo was safe too.

At least Tony responded with a nod then. Time for talk and stalling was done. "Got it," he said, the instructions simple enough as he patted both pockets. He looked at Tony, hesitant for a moment before he stepped forward and threw his arms around him in a quick hug before he stepped back again.

It didn't last quite long enough for Tony to know how to react, or even realize it was a hug until it was already over. It was impulse that raised his hands to fold over Donnie's head and cradle against his chest, and they broke apart just as quickly as Donnie was stepping away again. Even the joke that Tony wanted to make to avoid lingering on the anxious lump that the contact had put in his throat was tasteless enough that he bit his tongue. Maybe Donnie really did think he was going to die out there, so it wouldn't have been much of a joke.

Instead, he had to move them swiftly to the future, gesturing stiffly toward the stairwell that could take them to the roof. The single candle that he brought along to light the way barely illuminated the next step up as it guttered behind Tony's hand, and shrank even further as they reached the night air like the cold and the density of the fog might be enough to snuff it out.

Reciprocation of any sort hadn't been anticipated, and Donnie only hoped that Tony hadn't heard or felt the rapid beating of his heart, still not completely calmed from arrival and was sure not to settle once he got back out there. But this was one less thing pressing down on him, and it had been one of the greater weights of many.

Silently the turtle followed, hands pulling the front of the jacket closed in front of him if only to have something to busy them with as they made their way up and eventually out. It was chilly, but still far more tolerable than the frigid atmosphere of that strange opposite world they had stumbled upon.

Once outside, Tony was quick to crouch behind the facade, where he could hide the small point of light that might draw the wrong kind of attention, and peer over the ledge to asses how many of the zombies had made their way to the front door. The noise from Donnie's arrival had attracted a sizable crowd, though they were already back to brownian bouncing around the yard without a single point of interest to draw them. Most of them must have come from the direction of the diner, because Tony couldn't spot much movement in the dark there, and he flicked a finger for Donnie to see the clear path as well. If he kept quiet on the roofs, he could probably skirt around the worst of them while Tony lit up the sky in blue to keep them occupied.

The turtle didn't need any verbal cues, following Tony's example even as he all but crawled towards the edge to have a look as well. He didn't look all too happy about the gathering below, even if they'd mostly ceased to try forcing their way through the university doors.

Donnie looked over at the movement from Tony, following his gesture with his eyes before nodding. He kept low as he moved closer to that end of the roof, waiting then for the right moment to make his move.

The night was quiet at this height, the shuffling of the feet on the ground a distant static for long second while Tony watched Donnie go anxiously, glancing between the hungry horde below and the kid slowly blending into the shadows. It was only after Donnie had remained crouched and waiting that there came a crunching of footsteps behind him, quick and subtle as Tony kept on his toes, leaving the candle behind so only the stars might see them as he touched Donnie's shoulder to draw him into a proper hug. He might not have accepted an apology from his dad, but if Howard had stopped once before he had died to hug Tony close enough to leave him with a kiss to the crown of his head, he might at least feel less personally responsible for the scars. He didn't make Donnie linger much longer, already looking the way the kid was supposed to be headed as he drew back, and nodding impatiently toward the lower roof of the library as he gave Donnie's cheek a farewell pat.

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thepurpleone - 2024-10-27 05:24 (UTC) - Expand

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