revivalproject | Stranger in a Strange Land

Entry tags:

Stranger in a Strange Land

WHO: Tony, Steve and Bucky? And everyone else!
WHERE: Some network nonsense, and skulking around the resort
WHAT: Tony's playing catch up, and doesn't have a good lead yet. This is also Tony's TDM thread, relocated to make more sense on Risa, so if you want to properly canon that meeting, here we are!
WHEN: Risa: After Hours
WARNINGS: Nothing scandalous yet!

The Resort
The amount of information that Tony had now was not helpful, and neither the tablet he had been carefully tucked into his new bed with nor the computers spread throughout the resort were properly calibrated to help Tony map this ever sprawling conundrum. He had no way to connect the mysterious '31' to apocalyptic storms on a planet he had never heard of to all of the information telling him he was currently in an episode of Star Trek. What he did have was: an already rockstar-trashed room, a new wardrobe, and a creeping sensation of truly disgusting self-pity eating away in the pit of his stomach that he was going to have to overcome very rapidly before it grew any more powerful. To do that, he needed answers. He needed Cap. No, he could do this.

If he was going to solve the problem, he had to be in control of how at the very least. So far, the market had offered Tony plenty of fun and fashion, but not anything particularly useful, and it was about time he experienced a childhood fantasy: the replicators. One of the staff members had helpfully directed him in a way that felt so reminiscent of suggesting the ice machine back on familiar ground, that when Tony was actually standing in front of the thing, his first impulse was 'computer: ice'. And the replicator just made it, just like that; and not even just ice, this thing was advanced enough to interpret this failure of a human communication, vague and directionless, and delivered the beautiful, mouthwateringly glistening ice chips in a delicate glass, a useful container for his bumbling desires. Tony could smell how crunchy they were. He stared at this gift for too long in wonder, before remembering that he was still in public and gave a glance up and down the hall, regrouping, trying to focus. It was late so the halls felt deserted, but anyone could be coming back from the clubs at any hour in this place. Current problem: Kidnapping situation. Problem for another time: solving world hunger. He collected his glass of ice, then tried again, asking for a set of precision tools and a soldering iron. Then, after holding all of this cradled in a hammock of his shirt pulled away from his stomach, asked for superglue (this did not work, Tony had to get more specific and got what he hoped he was looking for with 'Cyanoacrylate?'), then, duh, bandages. He should have brought a bag. "Oh. Computer, one more thing, sweetheart. Do you have a bag?" A Ferengi rounded the corner, looking festive in a Margaritaville shirt (would he get the reference?) but staring very seriously at Tony, clearly suspicious and unwilling to share this space with him at this hour. Tony wasn't eager to find out if the species was really as they were portrayed, and instead gave a courteous nod of acknowledgement as he slung his cleverly resort-branded cloth bag of goods over his shoulder and slid away, glass in hand, to find another station to test the limits of. It couldn't hurt to test out his new tools on one, just a little bit. He could solve two problems at once.

It was late, and the breeze flowed easily through the open-air halls of the resort, keeping the still-warm, tropical air from feeling oppressively hot and carrying the sweet smell of alien, fruiting flowers with it. It was the perfect time to case the joint.

[Video]
[A video message posted to the network of a man frowning down into the camera, chin propped up in one hand and looking equal parts bored and skeptical, but occasionally glancing up, just past the camera, possibly betraying his alert tension.
Tony is in his room, sitting with his back against the bed where he has clearly thoroughly tossed the blankets, a single pillow left in the middle of the mattress among the mess. He knows from Billy that this is the best way to get in touch with anyone who might be able to relate to his situation. It doesn't make him feel any less vulnerable.]

I'm used to having some, you know, guidelines-- hard to read the room here, hard to read the audience. Um-- Tony. [He quickly touches his chest, that's me, before holding his chin again.] Looking for: just some fun, nothing serious. Likes: long walks on the beach, particle physics, black coffee. Dislikes: The smell of bookstores. I know, you'll try to convince me, and it will be a very good date, because I've never had a bad one, but I still won't like the smell. What else goes on these things...? [He's looking past the camera again, like he's waiting for the response to come from out there. If this doesn't produce solid results, Tony's ready to take this thing apart and make it more useful to him.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There wasn't anything precious to Tony around, so he almost asked if Tommy could make that a promise but knew well enough not to play around too much with that tone. He had been the indiscreet one now, and he owed Tommy that apology gesture again, crossing his heart this time as a promise not to do it again. A guy only had to be slapped once in his life to learn that lesson. Not well, he wasn't making any promises about any other petnames, but a solid introductory course.

Billy had tried to explain a lot to him, but who specifically Tony might find with him in this conundrum hadn't come up. The kids, sure, but Lorna Dane? Wanda? Now, Tony's surprise was genuine; the teasing glimmer in his eye was gone, and he stopped part way to the replicator to watch Tommy carefully. "Come on," he said, as though he had only stopped to make sure Tommy was following, gesturing for him to lead the way and not make eye contact with Tony when he asked, "Wanda's here? With you?" It had almost become taboo to mention her in the Tower since the chaos of her disappearance; for most of the current Avengers, this wound only went that deep. For those that had lived in the Mansion with her, though, it festered. The closest Tony had gotten to even talking about her was with Carol, in total abstract: Have you been to a meeting lately?

“Not the same Wanda,” Tommy corrects immediately. “So don’t you try and get all ‘fuck you because House of M’ on her, got it? She doesn’t have those powers. Another universe Wanda entirely. And we don’t tell her about the House of M because she can’t carry the weight of Uncle Pietro’s sins.”

Tommy will NEVER accept that Wanda was responsible for all of what happened. She acted out of grief after Pietro made her make that world and then Gramps had killed him and... well, she’d reacted. Just like she had when her sons had been lost. Both times she had learned it. Grief broke teen the strongest people. He had seen what it had done to his twin.

“Her Vision was here too. The one from her world. He was...”

Better than their Vision. As good as 2.0. He missed his best friend, and his adoptive father. The original Vision from their universe? Fuck him.

Right, the other dimension thing. It wasn't really Wanda, she was still missing and this one probably couldn't offer any insight to help bring her home. It would have been easier on Tony's heart just to have his team here, worrying about getting them home, he thought, than this series of deadly hairline fractures these kids seemed to cause with the steady squeeze of new information. That one-two punch had left Tony feeling like an exposed wire, and almost interjected to defend himself over any blame he might be harbouring for the 'House of M' situation, but only got as far as, "Uh..." because Tommy was tearing out ahead with even more wild shit. So, they weren't blaming Wanda, off limits, but Pietro could be accused for...different reasons.

Tony was not ready to have kids. It was good to have a regular reminder.

"He was different, too?" he tried finishing for Tommy instead. He didn't seem as volatile about the subject, and Tony realized in the stream of Tommy's defensive frustration, that however Tony actually felt about what happened to his team and their home was not going to matter to Tommy. That wouldn't be a discussion, it would just be Tony dumping his shit on this kid. The use of past tense regarding Vision was not lost on Tony, and he carefully steered, "Both of them, the Vision and Scarlet Witch, have a very unique connection to the foundational blueprints of our universe. If the universe was changed in some way, we would see it in people like them first."

Pietro was the one that made Wanda, crazed with power, make the House of M. Tommy's done his fucking research. Don't argue with him.

"He was the Vision from their world. He... treated Billy and me like his kids. He painted pictures for us for our birthday," Tommy admits, his voice soft. And that's a lot to admit. He sighs and moves to the replicator and punches in a command for alcohol. "In their world, you were one of his creators. Ultron and You and Banner. Good thing you aren't actually, back home. Being related to Pym is weird enough."

So yeah, there's something else for Tony to gnaw on.

That sounded like a dangerous threesome to Tony, but he was very much gnawing. His gaze flicked to the replicator before Tony deliberately turned his head, crossing his arms and staring vacantly out past the balcony to the dark beach. Tommy had a way of bringing up some painful names. Bruce was out of the question, Tony had already burned that bridge and felt it would have been more likely to spot him out there on that beach than he would be to find him back in his own solar system. Ultron, though...to recreate the Vision, Tony thought, he could handle that fallout.

"I'm glad, you know..." Tony started, not sure how to phrase this delicately, and tapping his fingers restlessly against his bicep. "I think Vizh would have been proud of you, if he got to know you." There wasn't much about this situation that felt great, but, so far, back home, these kids hadn't had the chance to come face to face with their complicated lineage. They had to have questions that only Wanda or Vision could answer. "I know we give you a hard time, but you're not doing anything any of us wouldn't have done in your position. He was the same way, big damn hero."

No. No, Tony did not just go there. Did not just claim that this soul-'dad' would have been proud of him. Would have cared about him.

"You don't know shit about what Vision would think about Billy and me. Fuck, I don't even fucking know seeing as he decided 'fuck this, gonna make me a new family and ignore my fucking SONS'."

Not that he's bitter. Okay, he's totally clearly bitter. "None of them will give us the time of day. The closest thing I get to family claiming me other than how Lorna embraces us is Grampneto, and we all know how problematic that old mutant is. Pym and Van Dyne haven't even said boo to Billy or me. At this point I'd sooner expect a fucking Christmas present from ULTRON than expect my supposed soul-family to be there for me. So don't you dare fucking talk about Vision like he's anything more than an asshole who LET ME ROT in that fucking Super Juvie!"

And that's where it gets him, more than anything. For him to be in the Failsafe data meant Vision had known about him before Wanda went mad and killed him. Meant he knew about Tommy before he went into that place. WHILE he was in that place. And. Did. Nothing.

At the beginning of that explosion, Tony would have very confidently argued that he definitely knew better than Tommy how Vision might have felt, if either of them knew anything, but that confidence fell apart so quickly that Tony had to convince himself not to take a physical step back, clenching his restless fingers down into stillness around his arm as the ports along them opened, feeling like goosebumps running all the way down to his toes. He couldn't even call the Iron Man if he wanted to, but he could feel the undersuit starting to trickle down his back and held his breath to stop it, sure Tommy would take that as a threat display in this state. This bomb needed a defusal.

Prying one hand away from his bicep, Tony held it up in surrender and apology, a promise that he wasn't about to make such bold claims again. Tony had been mistaken. "I think I've made some unfounded assumptions here, and I shouldn't have implied I knew anything about your history. In hindsight, that was cruel of me. I don't actually think we've met before," he tried. Obviously, they knew each other, kind of, but the Vision from Tony's Earth had died before he could meet these twins, and he certainly never made any other family that Tony knew about. That would have been a difficult secret to keep. Even he only heard from Hank sporadically, and it was always about a paper Hank was writing, and, as far as Tony knew, Jan had nothing to do with these kids for good reason. She was done with the Avengers; she had lost enough. In the interest of making amends and trying this conversation again, Tony offered that surrendering hand, loosening his grip on himself enough to say, "It's a pleasure. Tony Stark."

Really? How is he supposed to shake hands if he's got food in one hand and drink in another? Especially when he's mad? But he sighs and puts the roast and booze down on the flood and takes the hand, shaking it.

"Just gotta say, Tony, our future? Not always fucking bright. But we've met before. I'd know your particular shave job anywhere. And you know who and what I am."

And to him, that's proof enough.

That would have been ominous, but the chill had left Tony as he watched Tommy go from picking up his drink from the replicator, still right there, to clearly knowing this performance was ridiculous and ignoring that surface entirely to set everything on the ground in order to accept Tony's peace offering. Kids were so weird, and Tony had to lick his lips between his teeth to try to bite back the lopsided grin at the display.

"Let's say you're right, then," Tony offered, happy to follow a presented concept through, and stepped back to casually lean a shoulder against the wall as though he was just making room for Tommy to take the lead down the hall again. He had already crouched in front of Tony once; even if he didn't think that was a little humiliating, Tony didn't want to make him do it again. "Let's say, I'm from your past. Did I miss the birth of Luke and Jess' baby?" Tony just needed to establish an exact timeframe here that they should both recognize. If Tommy knew Tony had been there for the event, then there was no way Tony was going to be stuck here for very long-- he had a birthday to attend.

"Don't know. I wasn't there for it myself. But a ton of shit happened and the kid's not even an infant anymore. But I've definitely seen you since then. A lot of shit went down. You went asshole. You know, you're sorta prone to it. But, like, if it's true and people go back and don't remember, and I believe Party-Man when he says that he didn't remember a thing, then it's stupid to even tell you what happened. Because then you'll just feel guilt over an asshole you that isn't even you yet."

Which even Tommy feels is a dick move. So he moves to gather his food, and is standing with it in hand before there is even a chance for TOny to notice the motion. Speedsters, right?

That tarnished Tony's silver lining far faster than he could have anticipated, and in the same way all of the information he was getting about this situation was coming at him; vaguely and uncomfortably. "Wait, why wouldn't we remember? What the hell is a Party Man?" Tony was already losing his hold on his working theory, and Party-Man sounded to Tony like the kind of supervillain that bought bootleg Pym Particles to terrorize the New York tourist traps with giant balloons. The highlight of this sort of kidnapping scenario was always the break from the freak-of-the-week, and Tommy was taking that from him. The 'asshole' thing didn't even phase Tony-- there was a myriad of ways he knew he could be an asshole to Tommy and his friends, the people in their general vicinity, and the world at large. It was inevitable. As Tommy put it, he was prone to it.

"Altair, a friend of mine. From space," Tommy answers. "A Sith something or other. He's a good guy. I'm teaching him how to sass people properly."

Don't insult his friends. Because Tommy's got a lot of them now. More than he ever would have expected.

"Doesn't matter, you'll meet him on the planet or whatever. For now, we eat. We drink. I pretend to get along with you, and you think twice about asking questions about your future. Because trust me, Tin-Man, you do not want to know."

And Tommy has no intention to tell Tony that his actions made the Young Avengers look for Wanda alone, and thus got Cassie killed. That Tony's decisions and planning and his damn war had gotten Captain America killed. That Tommy and his team had been left nearly shattered mentally from their time in N-Space. How bad it had all been. Not Tony's business. It would be cruel to tell him, like it would be to tell Wanda what her other world self was like.

Tony absolutely wanted to know. Tony was obsessed with the future, and knowing what was coming meant Tony could control it. For example, Tony knew now that directly asking Tommy about it wasn't going to get him anywhere but more ambiguous insults, and that future was boring. As luck would have it, Tony wasn't always committed to a direct flight.

"A masterclass in sass, then," he acknowledged. "Are you sure you're pacing him? You gotta teach from the fundamentals, a Cassie-type smart aleck, maybe, before you get into the advanced sass theory. Without a good foundation, you end up with all of the mouth and none of the gas. Just a huge asshole." Tony grinned, bracing a hand on his hip to open his posture to that soft lob.

So there were some serious pros and cons to this whole being in Star Trek space thing. Tommy had been cataloging they, closet Trekkie that he was. Pro: Risan people were as pleasure hungry as the shows always implied. Con: targ meat really was sorta bland. Pro: No one thought he looked weird or that his reaction speed was odd. Con: They didn’t have an alcohol strong enough to make Tommy tipsy.

Pro: Alcohol came in bottles made out of some space glass that meant that when he’d dropped one before it hadn’t shattered.

Con: Apparently that space glass wasn’t fucking starship caliber or even strong enough to hold up to the grip strength of even a low end dosage of mutant super strength. At least not at the speed that Tommy could suddenly apply pressure.

And hearing Cassie’s name thrown out so easily like that, well, his hand convulses like it often does. In anger, in pain, in absolute fury over how he had let it happen and he had lost everyone and everything when they had lost her. The bottle’s neck shatters in his hand and Tommy is frankly lucky because his skin is more than durable enough for something as simple as glass shards at relatively slow speed and this particular angle of contact to do much more than get one lucky pinprick at his skin.

The bottle isn’t so lucky. Integrity compromised and neck broken it falls to the ground and the liquid fishes put as it rolls between them. Tommy can’t be moved to care to catch it before it hits the ground or scoop it up. Instead he lets the shards fall from his hand and shakes it out. He needs an excuse. Fast. Good thing he can think faster than a computer. Even if it isn’t the greatest excuse.

“You fucking suggesting I don’t know what I’m doing? I come from a long line of sneakers and back-talkers. And I’m not just talking about my soul-mom’s side of the family.”

At least, he muses, whatever the Agrii has done to grab him had limited his explosive powers. Because otherwise they might be picking glass out of Tony.

Years of experience with Barton being completely unresponsive to Tony's charms should have prepared him for this kind of reaction. After all, so far Tommy was fitting that pattern seamlessly; having absolutely none of it, while continuing to entertain Tony's attempts at camaraderie, like the handshake. Bruce, too, although that felt more like an exercise in politeness in his case, and he genuinely hated Tony most of the time. What the three of them had in common didn't escape Tony, but how he was supposed to practically apply that knowledge did.

Hindsight 20/20, but Tony still jumped at the glass bursting, launching him away from the wall as he tried to track the damage done as Tommy shook out his hand; way too fast. Now very aware that any move he made could cause something to blow up, he froze before trying to take Tommy's hand, leaving the cradle of his own hands empty as he held them out. "Hey-- sure, you okay, though? Watch your step," he suggested, carefully toeing aside the largest shards between them with his slipper. "Do you want to...sit down?"

They are so lucky he couldn't make a proper explosion, because they might get kicked out from this lovely resort. Still he sighs and lets Tony look at his hand, trying not to frown over having the older man look him over.

"Don't worry about my feet. And no, I don't need to fucking sit down. I need to eat and get out of this damn enclosed area."

He's never been fond of tight spaces, and right now he's definitely triggered even worse than normal.

It didn't look like there was any physical damage to worry about, but the emotional damage that caused the problem was well outside of Tony's purview. He raised his hands, taking the hint and backing out of Tommy's way, eyebrows raising in what would have been a very sarcastic apology for cutting into the most important meal of the day, if they didn't quickly knit back together in concern as he watched Tommy closely. He managed not to let that concern creep into his voice as he chastised, "Stop approaching old guys, look at this mess. Let them come to you."

"Who I approach or don't really isn't your business, Stark. Unlike the others on my team, I don't fucking look up to you," Tommy points out.

Except, you know, for the literal looking up. That isn't his fault. He can't help that it was taking a while to actually get tall. Please, Wanda, have written tallness into his DNA. Thanks.

He moves past Tony, heading for the nearest open area where he could sit down and eat. There is such a need for food now.

"I guess I gotta be thankful that the Agrii decided we needed someone like you. Could go home sooner."

It had seemed to Tony that Tommy wanted his space and he had been happy to give it to him, but Tommy drew him easily along with a compliment like that, whether he intended it or not. "Come on, everybody else is doing it," he teased, chin up and practically preening. None of the Young Avengers had told him they looked up to him. He lingered long enough at the replicator to order a tea, plenty of sugar, before carefully stepping around the mess to follow Tommy to his table and add the cup to his tray. Sugar was integral to maintaining a calm atmosphere in AA meetings, the properties couldn't have been limited to church basements. "I'll get you home, kiddo," he agreed. "And you can ream me every day that I don't, if you think I'm not working hard enough. Can I count on you to be my ear to the ground, if I need to gather intel?"

Tea? Tommy tries not to grimace. He needs coffee and a lot more sugar. It's who he is, part of the speedster thing.

"Don't call me kiddo. I'm not your kiddo," he says, narrowing his eyes. But he definitely considers Stark for a few minutes. Before shaking his head. No. Stark CANNOT count on him for that.

"Greenhouse needs me. Listen on your own."

For a second, Tony thought he had finally cracked the code, so when Tommy shook his head Tony had to purse his lips and breathe a deep sigh. And if that had worked, he would have had the sketch of a working team, with the perfectly unexpected spy; fast, brash and stubborn. With this denial, Tony was out of short term tactics, outside of being openly antagonistic, which he didn't feel confident in field testing without access to the Iron Man after that display with the bottle. He didn't prod the Hulk without a solid escape plan. "Great. Well. Billy's probably more reliable, anyway." Okay, Tony was never really out. But he didn't intend to stick around for the results, raising a hand to clap Tommy on the shoulder in farewell and reconsidering, giving a wave instead. He had been on his way to take apart one of these replicators, and this hall had proven a little too heavy on the foot traffic. There had to be one somewhere less exhausting.

Oh no he didn't. Tommy is up and in front of Tony with all the righteous fury of a Maximoff Speedster protecting their witch twin. And he definitely looks furious.

"Don't. Even. Try. It. Clearly you've already learned he's here. But unlike Billy, I'm not going to pretend you're our friend. Not after that shit you pulled after he fucking saved New York from a fucking nuke. You took who we were out on him, and you don't deserve his help."

And Billy would give it anyway, because he's a good guy that looked up to older heroes. He was going to forget the suffering they had because of the Civil War. How Tony Stark as Iron Man wanted to destroy Wanda. That's not cool.

Okay, the comment was meant to irritate Tommy a bit, but in no way was meant to lead to more running and swearing. At least Tony was learning what to expect. Direct antagonism was definitely inadvisable. Tony had to stop short midstep, making him slouch back with canted hips and a pleading roll of his eyes up toward the stars for some explanation from the wider universe for what he possibly could have done now. All he got in return was, some of that language was familiar. 'Not after that shit you pulled' was one of Rhodey's favourite phrases after a destructive bender, and came in mighty handy during his tenure as Iron Man. To this day, though, Tony didn't have a good statement prepared for this situation; Rhodes had made it clear that an apology was a minor part of the calculation that didn't mean much on its own. Not after the shit Tony pulled.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't," he said with a shrug, knowing even as he did that it wouldn't mean much. Tommy was comfortable being angry and needed someone to beat up on to feel in control, and what he had to tell Tony about his future was going to come out in these bursts of passion. It was a simple puzzle all along. "Maybe I don't deserve the help. But I kind of got the feeling you were ready to get home, too. Get everybody home. Do you want to tell me how much anyone else deserves it?" He would have to ask Billy about the details of an impending nuclear attack on New York, and what about it might have led Tony to respond in a way that pissed this kid off.

Ready to get home? No, not really. Tommy doesn't have much there, and he does wanna help the Agrii. But sending Wanda back to her Vision, and Billy and Teddy home, it's not a bad thing. Their world, though, it would be great if Tony didn't go back to it.

"If you go home, you're going to cause a lot of really bad shit, including treating Billy like a pariah," yeah check out that awesome word there, "because you and yours are too fucking paranoid over what Wanda could do with her powers and finding out Billy is stronger is going to break your little coward brains. And I don't intend to let that happen."

Yep, he definitely takes after his Uncle Pietro. How he ever doubted the family connection was a fucking mystery.

Tony did not know what it was about him that had both Tommy and Billy convinced they were from the same place. Tommy kept on talking like he knew with certainty how Tony felt about Wanda, like she and Vision weren't gone after the Mansion came down, like Tony had done something to convince the rest of the Avengers that Wanda was to blame for whatever did happen.

But there was Tony's unavoidable reality: faced with the uncontrollable destruction of the Hulk, Tony had gone behind the Avengers' backs to send him off world. He was fully capable of making that decision with someone else's life. Since he carried that with him, though, Tony knew just as clearly that he would rather stop that crisis before it began, than have to make that call again. He doubted he could change the future for these kids, but in his dimension, wasn't this the perfect opportunity?

Folding his arms across his chest and holding his ground, not about to be intimidated now by a vague threat like 'don't intend to let that happen', Tony asked, "What did he do? Did he lose control?" Here was the other gear that wasn't fitting into the mechanism that Tony could see: Billy had seemed healthy, happy to see him, engaged and thriving where he was in his life. Had he so disengaged from reality that Tony couldn't read this anger in him?

Stranger in a Strange Land

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)