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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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."

That equation didn't quite work out for Tony, who could only click his tongue and tilt his head in dissatisfaction. The Agrii didn't exactly endear themselves to the saving, with the lying and manipulation, and openly admitted they were the ones bringing their he-rows here. Still, Tony allowed, "So," sounding airy, but drawing himself up, so he could lean forward with his elbows on his knees, "aren't you worried about what happens now?" The Agrii were happily all around them, paddling in a pool and sunning themselves back in their city, bright eyed and carefree and not a goop on their heads touched while the heroes that were here to save them had their backs turned.

Keith sighed.

"Because they aren't the ones fully in control," he said. "And, if this repeats in any way like Drift Fleet, then, at some point, we'll be moved along to the next thing soon." Keith considered it for a moment. "Maybe that's been a part of why we've been given a little bit more freedom to move the ships around... because they're preparing us for the next thing."

Keith talking like these things were just going to happen to them, and keep happening to them, agitated Tony enough to push him back up onto his feet, pacing as he demanded, "Here's what I'm struggling with then--why are we here?" He had to flap both of his hands, waving off the answer Keith had already given about their irrepressible drive to be the Agrii's saviours, he heard it the first time, and clarified, "We were on ships that could sustain us indefinitely and we were in control of. We could have just gone. Is there something wrong with your brains?"

"I don't know," Keith snapped, angry. "Maybe there is." He'd dealt with people all his life wondering if something was wrong with him. Tony had hit a nerve. He pushed off the wall, floating backward into the water, almost like he was going to end the conversation like that.

But then he sighed, deep breath in his nose and then slowly out through his mouth. He'd been trying to work on that temper... see? It didn't fade completely, though. There was a still a sharp edge to his words as he continued, especially that last part.

"Honestly, it's as close as we have to a base of operations," Keith said. "It was something that helped when we were in space too long back home. Having a place to come back to, real air, real gravity, a real solar cycle... Not everyone can spend unending time in space, even on ships that simulate a planet." Keith had done that... They had a pretty decent set up on the Castleship, but touching down once in a while helped a lot. It had been even worse when they'd lost the Castleship and were down to just the Lions. "And while we didn't have a base planet to go back to, touching down on the different planets through the trip... it helped.

"Plus... we had to make sure our ideas worked on making sure things were working here. And, well, we promised we'd come back. We headed out to that place because we needed to, and we came back because we said we would. For some people, giving your word means something."

At least he managed to get Tony back. Through his evidently exhausting speech, Tony continued to pace and wave his hands impatiently, so when he stopped it was with the tension of a coiled spring, all of that motion held back behind a facade of a careless hand on his hip. For some people, giving your word mostly meant buying himself some time for a greater betrayal.

"Hold on--" was easier to jump back to, free hand up to wind the tape back. "Don't tell me you don't want to go home, either." Keith didn't make it sound like he had even imagined that was a possibility. Like he thought the ships were the final destination.

There was a pause... Keith lowered his eyes to stare at the water.

"That's a loaded question," he said. "I'd lose everything that came from here and the Fleet. You don't remember this place when you go back. I've been sent back, and then got dragged back here again. Like someone playing some weird cosmic joke." He frowned. "I've seen people from home come, and then go, and then come back... and sometimes they remember, and sometimes they don't." It was his biggest fear now that Lance had gone... that he'd come and not remember any of the last decade or so that they had built together from Drift Fleet to Agra-10, and Keith would still be alone even with his husband right there in front of him.

"Yeah... I wanna go home. I actually miss people I care about back there," he said quietly, but that edge of frustration, regardless of who it was directed at, lingered in his voice. "But that means giving up everything I built here. It'll be like any of the time I spent here didn't even happen." He had no control over being here or not, even when he and Lance thought they had control, it was taken from them.

And if he sounded like this was the final destination? Maybe he was hoping it was. Maybe he was done with that cosmic joke and game, and just wanted to get back to living his life. He had hope once when he first arrived in Drift Fleet... twice when they'd been given the option after defeating the entity that had corrupted the Marsiva... even three times when the Agrii showed them the singing core that was snatched away by a bigger force right in front of them. There were even more times if he counted all the times he'd gone home and come back again... and each bit of hope for home had been dashed. Why should he keep hoping?

It was clear very early on that Iron Man, even behind the mask, was having trouble hiding his agitation again, the helmet rocking as Tony rolled his eyes and blew out an impatient sigh. He at least waited for Keith to sound like he was probably done to start pacing again, both hands up to just about cut him off emphatically, "Listen, you're still doing it--You're talking like your whole life revolves around them and what they want." He gave a ringing knock to his own helmet and the clearly scrambled brains that he was trying to get through to. Keith wasn't the only one with this particular imbalance and Tony was getting very tired of it. "I'm not talking about being sent back and waiting for them to decide what to do with our lives and the bullshit--We were on the ships!" He flung both hands out, vaguely toward the hangar where their freedom was sitting, waiting. "That has nothing to do with them!"

"Then take a damn ship and go," Keith said. He waved his hands around, kind of mocking Tony a bit. "Take 'em and fly around all over the place to your heart's content. But you can't get home unless you have a portal, and we're kinda fresh out of those. The last ones I knew of were the one in Drift Fleet that I never got to take because I got dumped here instead, and the one that the Agrii showed us that got snatched away before we could use it."

This time, Tony's head tilted back with an audible groan. Keith's commitment to the Agrii was like a religious belief. Surely, only they could have the power, and the technology couldn't possibly have existed anywhere else in the vast universe to get from one place to another. It wasn't so outrageous, when he could clearly trust them not to abandon him, but thought Tony just needed a little encouragement. "Forget it," Tony said. "I'm the asshole, I shouldn't have said anything." Then he was in the air, sending a ripple across the pool from the flare of his jets, pushing up and away back to where it was safe in the sky.

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tempredmental - 2025-07-07 00:21 (UTC) - Expand

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