revivalproject | Actuation

Entry tags:

Actuation

WHO: Tony and open
WHERE: Temba civics centre and hospital
WHAT: Figuring out what everyone else wants, figuring out how to stop wanting
WHEN: After the return from haunted space
WARNINGS: Tony's pretty suicidal, so tread lightly if you want to avoid that

a. civics centre
The city felt more empty than ever. All of the extra bodies, lively as they were, grinning and indulging, only contrasted the expanses of untouched land; the crumbling residential blocks and overgrown flood plains to one side, and the scorched, eerie compounds to the other. Hovering over the civics centre, where the noise of the Agrii poured over the roof to echo in the wells of the weedy alleys, Tony could see the rapid decay of activity like a perfect radial graph. He was harder to see himself, the pale gold of the new Iron Man blending into the hazy summer sky and rippling with sunlight, so he only had to raise a reluctant hand back at the few Agrii that were lounging long enough to notice him and wave enthusiastically. It was good that the ships hadn't returned from their journey just to find the population left behind in Temba slaughtered, it was, but it reinforced for Tony that they couldn't be trusted, drilling deeper that expanse of loneliness. These were the architects of their suffering, and Tony hadn't had the conviction to take the ships and fly away from this place. They had come back instead.

The vantage point was not meant to highlight his own isolation, though. He was meant to be looking for the outsiders; the Wanderer, whose posture had suddenly seemed familiar, or even a few Agrii who didn't look so eager to participate in the new grounded community, projecting their misgivings that could be utilized. He didn't expect to see the opposite; a more familiar face choosing to join in. The abductees, by and large, appeared to be put off by the Agrii, unenthusiastic about socializing with them when on board the ships. This had, admittedly, seemed less of a guarded caution than a personal distaste. So while Tony grew more distrustful, it looked like others were overcoming their reluctance, as someone came wandering along the pool deck. Iron Man dropped closer, still keeping his distance by gliding along the side of the building, a few feet from the eaves, following the he-row's path to ask, "Going for a swim?"

b. the hospital
It was a simple programming problem. Now that the Agrii were less aggressive, it would probably be easier to convince them to explore other ways to manage their impulses. It wasn't that any of them wanted to be impulsive and harmful; there was just an imbalance in the brain. Rational logic should be allowed to override those destructive desires.

Conveniently, for this purely scientific pursuit, Tony's brain was already programmable. In theory. It wasn't really something that he had done entirely on his own before, but it wasn't completely alien, either; he had reprogrammed his version of Extremis, after all, to better accommodate the Iron Man, and to minimize the more combustive elements. When it was outside of his brainmeat, it was pretty straightforward. Now that it was in there, he was going to have to learn some practical neurosurgery. It couldn't be that hard. The mechanics of the operation were clearly the more complex equation; drilling into the back of his own skull and remaining alert and focused while he learned to navigate the brain was, probably, tricky. Tony knew a few tricks.

The rig that would let him accomplish this was already a drain on his limited resources. He had to be a little pragmatic about it, and make use of some of the tools already available. Luckily, the hospital wasn't very lively. Most likely, he reasoned, the doctors were making use of their more robust, and sterile capabilities on board the ships, and he was free to search through the cupboards and closets for what he needed. There were scalpels and clamps, of course; delicate work that he was happy to avoid firing again so he could focus on building more specialized equipment. Sutures or staples--he'd figured out which was more correct in the moment, and added them both to the tray against his hip. The chemicals were a more valuable commodity here; solutions to sterilize, to clarify, and manage some of the pain. There had to be something written down to explain the full effects of the tablets and compounds that he could find, either in the surgery or one of the doctors' offices, or somewhere in their communications that he could find on the network. It was a careful balance that he had to strike, after all; he had to be awake and alert, and he couldn't take anything stronger than a Tylenol. Not until he had solved this impulse problem, anyway. And so he stood, loaded tray on one side, in front of an open cupboard, eyeing a bottle like giving it a shake and holding it up to the light would tell him the exact chemical compound that he was considering. It wasn't like anyone else would need to use the hospital while he deliberated.

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Keith lifted his eyebrows in curiosity for a moment, and then shrugged.

"Yeah." It was good low impact exercise, perfect for someone who, for the second time already this tick, was recovering from injury. The bruising on his back was close to completely faded, swimming didn't give him a headache, and he didn't have to worry about having weight on his ankle too long without the brace since the walk from the deck chairs to the pool itself was short. Certainly better than risking the loose sand on the beach.

So he claimed one of the chairs by dropping his towel on it and then sat on the end to undo said brace.

"I'm not sure how watertight that armor is," he then added, referring to the Iron Man, "but I can't imagine it makes for a fun casual swim in a pool."

Keith wasn't a fan of crowds and recognition in general, so he'd probably understand Tony's situation more than Tony might realize... should Tony actually find a reason to share his feelings... unlikely as that might be. Or maybe he wouldn't because he preferred to avoid the spotlight in general and had never been the type to go seeking attention. He was more of an introvert.

Tony only risked getting a little closer to the building as Keith claimed his seat by offsetting the distance vertically, bringing him up almost overhead where he surveyed the pool. "Listen, now you've put me in an awkward position," he said, "and I'm not shy about a new position, but swimming in this is neither fun nor casual, you're right about that, a pool party should celebrate as much skin as possible, and, here's the problem, I can't have you thinking I do anything but impeccable work. Of course this is watertight. I'm something of an expert. You're not here to hear about that, though, you thought you were coming up to show off to one of the Agrii. Is it her? I think she likes you." Maybe the angle was meant to make Keith's head spin, making him look up then across the pool at Iron Man's gesture toward an Agrii with a wide, pointy grin shining their way.

Keith did look up for a moment, but Tony was almost exactly above him, and that did actually make his head spin. Between that the glaring sun, Keith had to force himself to look down, leaning forward on his knees for a second to wait for the dizziness to pass. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He really wanted to get some sort of exercise in today. He did not need bright sun and awkward viewing angles triggering his concussion symptoms right now.

"Okay, don't stay above me like that," he said. "And no... I'm not looking for a hook up. I just want to take a swim." Though, that stupid drive to be polite meant he probably should at least smile back. He gave at least a small one with a nod in greeting.

Normally, a direct order like that would be met with flagrant defiance. Keith really did look immediately queasy, though, already bringing Iron Man down a concerned few inches as Keith tipped forward, and Tony couldn't imagine how long it would take to clean the pool if Keith spewed in it. Tony still couldn't bring himself to be entirely compliant, hovering off the ground behind Keith's shoulder as he asked, "Is that a good idea right now?" It did leave him in a good position to tip the dusty shade umbrella forward, between Keith's back and the direct sunlight.

Good thing it was just dizzy and not nausea.

"It was before I tipped my head back too far," he said dryly. "It'll pass." He just needed a minute. He at least knew that triggering his symptoms was getting harder to do, which was a good sign in general. "I'll be fine. Just need a minute..."

In the meantime, because Keith hated having too much attention focused on him... especially concerned attention...

"Why are you here? Obviously not for the pool if you're all suited up." Considering Tony's banter about deciding between if the suit was watertight or if he needed to wear less to enjoy himself for real.

It was obvious that Tony wasn't entirely convinced because he was uncharacteristically quiet for a whole second, letting the skepticism radiate from him despite behind fully covered, behind Keith. Hesitating too long to answer what he was doing, though, would be suspicious, and he couldn't start admitting that he felt or wanted anything now, he had been doing so well, so he bought himself some time by spinning around in front of Keith with a flourish, legs extended and fingers spread daintily to ask, "Isn't it obvious?" He brought his hands behind his back to bow a little closer, where he might have been looking through his lashes coquettishly if the mask of the Iron Man wasn't so impassive, so he could purr, "I was waiting for you."

Yeah, yeah. No one ever really believed Keith when he said he was fine. Probably because they knew his type too well. Either way, the movement was hard for him to follow in his current condition, so he just made a long blink to avoid having to. He did sit up straighter, though, in order to pull back a bit when the face of the mask came in close.

The comment got a raised eyebrow in return.

"I highly doubt that," he said. "I don't really think I'm your type." Then again, Keith often didn't think he was anyone's type, so there was that, too. Whether Tony was being serious or not, Keith probably wouldn't have believed him. Lance had jumped through a lot of hoops to get Keith to believe he actually liked him.

The constant whir and whisper of the Iron Man's jets finally cut as his toes touched the floor, leaving the pool deck feeling significantly quieter until the Agrii around them filled the space with their chatter. Even on the ground, though, he still towered over Keith where he sat, tall enough in the boots to reach easily over him to give the umbrella another fussy twitch. Meanwhile, he observed, "Oh, now, that's interesting. Here's the calculation I'm doing, see if you can keep up: you don't believe me, so it must be my character that's in question here," counting off these steps on his fingers. "So I've got to wonder what kind of foul creature you imagine suits my taste. Careful." He wasn't about to expose the few people Keith knew that had deigned to let Tony flirt with them, that would be defamatory, but anyone might overhear what Keith thought of them.

Keeping up with calculations? Keith was pretty sure that didn't fall under cognitive rest needed to recover from a concussion. He furrowed his brow as he listened, though, at least curious. Though, it didn't sound like math...

"Foul?" Keith gave him a weird look. "Hardly. I figured you'd want better... someone easier to get along with, who isn't a massive loner with anger management issues." Yeah. He still saw that in himself. It was hard to let go of it, even if he'd been working on it.

Better was a familiar self-recrimination, and not one that was easy to argue someone out of; it made Iron Man's posture shift from a forward challenge to more upright and reserved. The other problems could be more quantitative, and Tony could argue he hadn't seen much of them himself (maybe he had a skewed perception of an anger management problem), but instead he approached, "Is that what your husband told you?" Keith had managed to secure the ring, after all. Now he had to decide what he was telling Tony about the man he married.

His expression shifted slightly from frustration at himself to something a bit sadder at the mention of Lance. Still frustrated, though, at the fact that Lance had been sent... back? home? Keith wasn't sure how far he'd gone considering they'd already been in another reality between home and this one. He took a breath, visibly pushing some thoughts down, and then shook his head.

"No." He sagged a bit. "I mean, we had our moments. We both have faults." He shrugged. "But, once we stopped arguing all the time, focusing on each other's issues, and trying to outdo each other, it was different. It was better." And that was when they got closer, and Keith started to realize he actually liked... and then loved... Lance. "We started seeing the good things."

That wasn't supposed to make Keith depressed, and for a second Tony worried that he was about to find out about some under the radar spousal abuse at the pool party. He had started to raise a hand to flap it away before Keith could dwell on it any further when he finally got his answer, and had to let that hand settle on his chest instead.

"It sounds like," he offered, head weighting side to side as he considered the blueprints that Keith was laying out for him, finding a lot of familiar foundations in them but landing on, "he wouldn't want to hear that someone was calling his fella an angry loser."

"He'd claim only he could say that," Keith said, managing to look slightly amused. "We did that all the time... insulted each other, but like... not in a mean way. It was a joke between us because we'd always been at odds when we first met." The insults and fighting had turned into something different... it was just how they were.

But Keith shook his head, taking a deep breath and trying to push it away. It was easier to ignore the grief than deal with it.

"Sorry, I just... I don't know. It's fine." He said it quickly, wanting to get out of that topic.

Tony's chuckle through the mask was modulated to hollow static, maybe only readable through the drop of tension from his shoulder. Keith didn't really have to clarify. The people Tony adored joked with each other about killing him. That was affection, right?

"Of course it is," Tony readily enthused, and spread his hands to welcome a less fraught topic. "You're at the pool to show off to our generous hosts. Everything's fine, it's a party."

Sure, it was! It definitely counted as affection.

But Keith raised an eyebrow.

"I'm definitely not showing off," he said, shaking his head a little with a small amused sound. Keith never showed off for the sake of showing off.

But, he wasn't feeling woozey anymore, so he stood up, straightening his trunks, and limped carefully to the pool. He sat on the edge, dangling his legs into the water for a moment, and then glanced back at Tony.

"So... you comin' in or what?"

It was a reasonable question; Iron Man hadn't moved from where Keith had left him, only turned slightly to watch Keith's ginger progress. When asked, too, he paused, like it took some consideration, then suddenly was back in motion, ever animated hands flicking out and vertices of the chestplate sliding like he heaved a sigh as he swung himself around to drop onto the lounge that Keith had claimed. It groaned ominously under the weight, and he kept his legs splayed at either side like that would alleviate some of the problem. "You can't imagine what it takes to get this thing off," he insisted, finger twirling around from his helmet to his boots. Then it flicked toward Keith to accuse, "So, what, this is some kind of display of aggression? Sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but they'd probably be a lot more impressed without the..." His hand wobbled, searching for the word until he came up with, "Mincing."

Keith swirled his legs in the water as Tony made his showy response, letting the cool, soft pressure from the water sooth his sore ankle. He almost shrugged and said for Tony to 'suit yourself' (pun not intended) when he complained about how long it would take to remove the Iron Man suit, but that accusatory finger set him back a bit.

He quirked an eyebrow.

"Aggression? How so?" Like he was legit confused...

"Intimidation, you know," Tony replied, hand rolling to fill in the evident gaps for him, without a fully thought through explanation himself. Taking off his clothes and flexing wasn't his kind of intimidation, he just knew some regular practitioners. "Show the Agrii what they're dealing with."

"Why would I want to intimidate someone at a pool party?"

Granted, he would if someone showed up and tried to cause trouble, but Keith wasn't someone who did that for kicks.

Iron Man rocked his head from side to side and admitted with a surrender of both of his hands, "That detail is still under development." He scanned around the pool, at the Agrii splashing and smiling at each other and largely presenting as awkward and naive, so far from the reality that he had to lay out; "I don't think we can do much to intimidate them. They can decide to bring us here or send us away on a whim. They can control our minds, make us walk across the city and into a torture chamber. They can put us on the brink of death just to save us and prove their benevolence." He gave a toss of a shoulder, like he could casually shrug off that weight like everyone else. "So, sure, it's better to just integrate with them."

Keith furrowed his brow for a moment. He was definitely not good at giving advice, but he was definitely getting the picture that there was something deeper here than just some minor whining. He shoved himself off the edge of the pool, sliding easily into the water, and turned to rest his folded arms where he'd been sitting. It felt weird having a conversation with his back to the other person, after all.

"I get the impression that's that you're not happy with that idea," he said.

That was supposed to be so self-evident that it put Keith on the defensive. It was difficult to reckon with the concept that anyone was happy with that idea, not when presented with the reality of the Agrii's manipulations. Maybe other people's ability to ignore that was much more powerful than Tony thought, leaving him staring back at Keith, motionless in bewilderment, until he had to ask, "You are?"

The robot suit was definitely making it hard for him to judge an expression... but Keith honestly had really bad judgement on that anyway. The tone, though... Keith shook his head in response.

"No," he said. "But I've learned the hard way that jumping in half-cocked isn't a good thing." Sure, it worked sometimes, and Keith often got lucky on that sort of thing, but he also almost got his entire team killed once for going too quickly and without thinking first.

"We've gotten a lot of new information recently, though," he said. "That helps." He was keeping his voice kind of low considering their present company. He didn't know if Agrii had stronger hearing, but he was pretty sure Tony could adjust with the intercom in his helmet.

"You've been here even longer than I have," Tony started to argue, only to let it hang, letting Keith decide how likely anyone was to accuse him of rushing to conclusions. He would have point it out himself, but his pointing hand dropped, losing energy, and his head tilted away slightly. He had still managed to be at the sharp end of that accusation every time he thought he was helping.

"Yeah, here's some important information I know, tell me if I lose you," he picked up more confidently, not bothering to lower his voice for the Agrii's sake. They could just watch the tape back, anyway, if they were really curious. "It's not just the storms that are the problem, just like everything else they lied about. There is someone watching and reacting to us to make us as miserable as possible. It wasn't a storm that made the moon start yelling; I said it, so it happened. So, you tell me: if it's not the Agrii that are orchestrating that, why were they not wiped out while we were looking the other way? Why are they still here?"

Keith frowned a bit. Was Tony saying that Keith hadn't been doing anything at all? That he was taking too long? It did piss him off a bit, and it showed in his features as his face shifted to his more serious grumpy expression that he usually wore.

"Because the Agrii are the people we have to protect. They're a goal for us," Keith said. "If whoever is in control is the same or similar or basing whatever goes on here on how things went in the Drift Fleet, then the Agrii are being used as tools to make us jump on command. They're the leverage in the hope that we're 'good guy' enough to make sure that they're saved."

Actuation

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