revivalproject

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WHO: Tony and open
WHERE: The Temba greenhouse
WHAT: Taking care of the greenhouse
WHEN: End of February
WARNINGS: That's up to you

It was early enough that Tony's breath still came in a faint puff even inside the greenhouse. He didn't think much of it at first, of course it was cold, and inside was still an effective haven from the frost that had reddened his ears as he crossed the square. Not so much from the dark, which seemed to cling to the ground, pressing in from the density of eerily still plants with the deep blue of the sun not quite breaking the horizon yet wilting against them. Tony could feel his heart in his chest, trying to hear the scuttling legs he knew were in that darkness, squinting to try to find some source of light. There had to be lights in here. It was almost enough to send him back out, try again later, but his stomach grumbled and the street just outside the window was washed with that tepid grey already. It wasn't that dark. Bugs probably slept.

By the time he had made his way along the perimeter, closest to the windows and the too slowly climbing sun, he had a paltry few berries in the (evidently overconfident) bucket that he had brought along with him. They weren't going to be enough to feed him, let alone bring back to the kitchen like Tommy would have. Tony was going to have to venture deeper in, and, god forbid, investigate some of the plants closer to the ground and the crawling things within. How was he supposed to tell when a potato was ripe? Did potatoes ripen? It was while he was crouched down by a bed of completely mysterious tubers that he became so viscerally aware of the barrel that he was staring down, that he was going to have to figure this out if he really thought he was capable of staying here alone, and just how much he took from the extraordinary people who had been doing the work while he made their lives more difficult. He risked pulling a glove off with his teeth to test the tenderness of a hanging leaf, dainty pinky out in case he felt an antenna or fuzzy body hiding on the underside, and found only wilted crepe, dry and cold. Around his glove, his breath still fogged. From there, still knelt down, his eyes finally flicked up, searching along the windows, not for the light outside but the glass. The cold and the constant wet of the winter had not been kind to the most robust of the buildings. This one featured a hasty patch job.

Another breath, this time a sigh that swirled around Tony's head and dissipated into the darkness. There was more for him to do here than collect a few berries.

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York lets himself be distracted in watching Tony for a long moment, then back up to the other area waiting for its own patch. "Is that the truth or you trying to keep my feelings from being hurt?" There's a small smirk at that as he finishes what he's scanning, then moving away.

The android doesn't go far, only going as far to fetch one of the a-frame ladders to bring over to Tony. He sets it to the side once brought over and huddles down in case the human needs help.

"I won't say anything to Tommy about the inevitable patch job." A small smirk.

The question earned York a sidelong look and wry smile from Tony, but it was brief, because what he wanted to say was 'Do you think I'm the coddling type?'. The truth was, though, he was treading carefully, not a natural state, and watched York move away with an anxious glance. He had hurt these kids enough. He had to keep his distance, keep his head down, and be ready to disengage quickly if anyone else opened that door.

Philosophically, though, he was speaking a truth, even if it did happen to displace some blame. He tap a short rhythm on the glass where he worked as York returned and agreed, "Need to know basis." Tommy had a much more rigid belief in fate that might have made it harder for him to hear, "Every break is an opportunity to make something better. Nothing's ever been done at the first iteration. The future's always up for another round."

That wry smile isn't missed, but he doesn't remark on it for now. There's a shake of his own head, the smirk turning to a grin. "No, not really. Sometimes that's easier. To be told what I did wrong, so I can fix and do better. I'd have really shitty programming if I couldn't take critique and be better."

"The future is always up for another round because life doesn't stop for one person. The passage of time is inevitable, even if different beings don't experience time in the same way." Almost everyone else in the city would grow and age, while people like Cayde, Mini, and York would stay as a snapshot for as long as their systems held out.

He holds a section down for the guy, focusing his gaze there. York thinks of his talk with Leo on the ship, and other events that happened to the android since his arrival in the city. "By the way. Speaking of progress, sorry for how abrasive I was when I first met you. I know that shit was a long time ago, but you're not Antonio, and I shouldn't have treated you like that."

Being offered an apology at all was an unfamiliar experience, let alone one from York, making Tony start to laugh at first--more of a sigh with a sidelong look for whatever joke York thought he was setting up with it, until it became clear that it was supposed to be taken earnestly. With a puzzled frown, Tony had to drop his focus back to the melting plastic for a beat before he could toss a shoulder to cast off any obligation that York felt to treat him any better. "I deserved it," he pointed out. "I'm still not sure I buy the story, you know, that's a tough one for me." He could stretch to his feet then, hooking one arm around the ladder in preparation, still looking down at their work with a vague gesture toward it. "Maybe because I don't want to. I don't want to be my dad, not to some other kid, and it feels inevitable, just like this other version of me, that I'd be selfish enough to do it anyway," he continued, quickly, so he could finish with diverting instructions, "Can you paint that, somehow? Black, so it won't warp as much when the sun comes up. Pack dirt against it, if you can't."

York simply watches as Tony moves from laughing to that puzzled pull of his lips. He simply waits for the guy to realize that yes, York is serious about the apology. "Did you though? I lashed out against you in my mental mixup of you and my own maker. Your wrong doings are not his; his are not yours. It is unfair to punish you for it, right?"

He watches Tony with the ladder

"You don't buy the story that I'm not working with the aliens here? I've got marks of Stark Technologies on some of my bigger hardware pieces."

Now he looks over the area indicated to be painted. "Do we even have any paint in here? I know there's some green in the hotel from when Bruno was around, but I don't know about black?" He does at least start to pack dirt against it.

"I'll bring you some charcoal to mix with it," Tony offered as he turned to start climbing, waving an appreciative hand at the effort, "Problem for another day. That'll do it for now." It was only when he reached the top of the window and could start focusing on sealing the next corner that he replied, "I could get a Stark tattoo on my ass, that doesn't mean you should trust me. Why are you so ready to believe that I'm who I say, not some way for these guys to get into your head with the face of your dad?"

"Save it for when someone ODs or something at the hospital." Charcoal, especially in liquid form, could help absorb stuff like that. Humans loved putting things in their mouth that shouldn't go there. "Unless you really think it'll be helpful here rather than there."

Did they even have charcoal here? They must, if Tony's offering it.

"Would you be egotistical enough to get one tattoo'd on your ass? Just in case you forget your legacy or something." He leans back and looks up at Tony. York's silent for long moment, going through his data carefully to come up with an answer. "Because I've been in the city long enough to see you work with the others. That you're helping others. Antonio liked to parade me and my two brothers around, but never made a line for the public. Only parts that would fit Cyberlife models at a cheaper price. He was putting his name out there filling a void that Cyberlife wanted to fill at his own gain."

He turns away, going back to packing dirt again. "Though both of you have that stupid facial hair, yours is kept neater."

"Hard legacy to forget," Tony mumbled, mostly to himself while he kept his hands busy. He thought that would be the worst of it, and easy enough to brush past, only for York to start talking again and the guilt felt like it might pull Tony off of the ladder. He leaned forward like he had to give his shoulders a break, elbows on the step, and tried to sneak a glance York's way to assess how much he really believed Tony wasn't just taking advantage of people, too. He had to say something, so he went with, "I get the temptation, but you can't be letting a possible problem in the future stop you from solving a real one right now. This one is in front of you. That one is just one of a billion possible futures." By then, he was more ready to ask, "What do you think he should have been doing instead? Giving you away?"

The way Tony positions himself to support his weight with his elbows, pitches his face out of view from York. The android is nice enough to not look for his face at least, and looks away just as the human glances down at him.

"So are you stating that you are the problem? Because you're technically not in front of me but above. I think if you wanted to have hurt me, you would've done it by now. You would've had plenty of chances with how I disobey Reeve and Richie constantly and find myself in trouble."

The android looks back up at Tony. "Treating us like the actual people we look like and were designed to be would've been a start. It was the whole reason for the start of the revolution back home. To get the same rights as humans and to not be treated like garbage just because we weren't organic."

York interpretation surprised Tony enough to keep him leaning where he was for another beat, before he remembered that he was supposed to be finishing this corner. In reply, though, he said, "Don't let them tell you what to do. They're just some old guys in suits." He couldn't imagine Reeve was that strict with York. Although, the punishments he imagined must have been painfully tedious.

As he worked his way back down the ladder, he asked, "Isn't that good, that he didn't make more, then? Just put more kids in that position. You don't think he was trying to, you know...I hated boarding school, but my dad was sure it would toughen me up. I can't say he was wrong."

York laughs. "You're half right because only one of them wears a suit regularly and you can be certain it's not Richie." Though he knows the three of them got matching suits with Richie-esque ties. The aliens knew they were a family unit.

"Yeah, he already uses one to keep us in line, ignores the other, and experimented on me, so yeah. Definitely good he didn't make more. I don't think putting me in this hardware against my wants really counts as toughing me up, but I would've picked android boarding school over it."

There was simply no angle for which Tony could relate to that, making him momentarily quiet while he settled back on the ground and gingerly touched up his hair from the brief exertion. Very momentarily, because he couldn't go long before he was saying, "Hey, that must mean you were the favourite."

York looks up and watches the guy fiddle with his hair. Not one piece out of place. Then he looks away to double check his own efforts and gets back upright.

"Doubt it. Never went out looking for me, but Duncan did. But that’s a story to tell to someone that doesn’t think I’m working for our alien overlords," he tells Tony with a mischievous smirk. "Anything else we need to do in here?"

Tony didn't quite return the smirk but breathed a laugh that he couldn't hide as well without flapping a dismissive hand as he lounged back against the ladder to survey the greenhouse. There was still the problem of the empty pantry, but it wasn't York's; to him, Tony insisted, "Get out of here and sneak back through the window before Reeve grounds you. Careful, wash your hands," with a quick gesture to check for any further evidence of his early morning jaunt. "If he still sniffs you out, you can tell him I insisted."

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