revivalproject | Stranger in a Strange Land

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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.]

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Best part of this particular part of their kidnapping? Replicator food. In this case Tommy found himself walking past someone vaguely familiar and stopping at a replicator and standing in front of the device.

"Beef pot roast with potatoes, carrots and onions. For three. With bread and gravy on the side."

And sure enough there was a tray with the food after a second. which he lifted and balanced on one hand before heading back toward his room. At a MOSTLY human pace. Except... there was the familiar man again. Strange. He paused just behind the guy to tap him on the shoulder.

"Hey, you look familiar. Did we meet in the club last night?"

Tony had heard worse pickup lines, but the delivery was a notable standout; he hadn't ever heard a better line from a young ghost that smelled like onions and gravy. He hadn't missed the streak of white hair rush by him before, but had only glanced over his shoulder at the apparition, not curious enough to add exorcism to his full schedule right now. This was a mistake. The thought hadn't even been properly filed away before the haunting returned, and while Tony wouldn't admit to being spooked at all, he did freeze, then give a very cautious twist to get a sidelong look at the flirty ghoul. It was just dark out, and the surroundings were unfamiliar; that didn't make ghosts real. Not like zombies, or werewolves.

The revelation of who had actually approached him was only made less weird by Billy preparing Tony for the possibility. Without that, Tony might have stuck into the ghost theory, and his general concept of the afterlife would have to come into question. Even under the unusual circumstances, though, without the costumes or full daylight, that had to be Speed. Tony might not have been as easy to place, he didn't often allow himself to be publicly seen in sweatpants, but Tommy shared a face. Twice as much of him. "Mr. Shepherd," Tony greeted, turning to properly face him, squaring his shoulders to make sure no one could mistake him for being afraid of ghosts, first of all, and to get a better read on Speed's stature. They even grew to the same height, these kids. "Have you been propositioning older men in nightclubs? Shocking behaviour. You're supposed to act like you don't know them if you see them again."

Yeah, creepy fucking soul-twin mojo, giving them the same face and same height and more or less the same build, except Tommy was more muscled than Billy was because, well, muscles were needed to be a speedster. Tommy, though, would rather avoid the 'kids of one of your former friends whose souls were sent back into the past to be other kids' conversations. Thanks.

Especially since he KNOWS that face, once it's turned fully to him. Knows the voice better. And tries not to cringe to see him. Fuck. He just flirted with Tony Fucking Stark.

"Dude, who I do and don't proposition in nightclubs sure ain't your business, Stark. Not even if I choose to pick them up later. Let me guess, kidnapped, B totally ruined my surprise appearance, AGAIN. Guy won't let me have any fucking dramatic moments."

Tommy had just made it Tony's business, Tony had been minding his own, thanks, but Tony could let it slide because that was such a weird reaction. Billy had been happy to see him, so what was that? "Secret's safe with me," Tony tried, free hand up in surrender, not sure if he had to do anything further to prove he wasn't one to spread around other people's sexual proclivities. He wasn't sure if his own very public history was more or less reassuring. This was a somewhat surprising revelation, though; Tommy did seem comfortable with Billy's preference, Tony would have guessed there was a strong support network in that regard. "Just don't want it to be amateur hour around here. If the wife was around that corner, your speed would have been tested, kiddo. Discretion."

Tony grinned, hoping that would put him more at ease, and put his hand to his heart in apology for not being dramatically surprised by finding Tommy here. If it were up to him, this gesture said, he would have discovered Tommy first, of course. "Kidnapped," he confirmed. "And still primed to be shocked. You might still have a chance."

Less not getting on with Billy. More trying to figure out how to go from closest person to his twin and far more frequent companion to... well, second fiddle with the guy’s fiancé around. It’s not easy. But he rolls his eyes at Tony’s comment.

“First, I can absolutely out run anyone who would grief me. Second, there has to be some surprise when a guy comes up behind you and tries to seduce you while carrying a meal for a family.”

There is nothing wrong with bookstores, Mr. Tony. There are far worse scents out there.

[ Well, trust in the Archivist to come to the defense of his theoretically favorite storage format of knowledge.

Jon himself is seated at a table, phone propped up as he addresses the network while at the same time busy with a set of... Cassette tapes? Right. That's tapes. Good old tapes. He's also holding a pencil. So he's either labeling or manually rewinding them. Though in all likelihood it's the first, so Tony won't have to witness a grown adult spinning tapes on a pencil like an eight-year-old.

He taps the pencil against the table once while shifting his eyes over to the camera, frowning slightly. ]

I'm Jonathan Sims. Nice to meet you, I suppose.

[ He doesn't sound entirely convinced about that, but... You know. It's only polite. ]

If you're looking for fun, I suggest to find it while we are kept here. It's doubtful you will find any once the Agrii send us back to Agra 10.

Of course he would take his speedster powers way too seriously. There was never any kidding around about that with Pietro, either, and Tony's grin grew wry, happy to have this tradition to carry on even on the other side of another universe. "Are you kidding me? Seduced from behind is my favourite position," he breezily retorted, but was happy to give Tommy what he was looking for. Making a show of just noticing the tray, Tony widened his eyes, well and truly surprised at the amount of food Tommy was hauling. "You're telling me that's not all for you? Sweetheart, you'll waste away. Come on," he directed, gesturing for Tommy to turn right around and head back to the replicator. "That's an awful first course, anyway. You start with the oysters, always. Let's see if we can get this thing to make a good vintage Bollinger, it'll change how you eat. The family can wait."

[Someone Tony doesn't recognize! Billy had said there were people from all kinds of places, but they didn't linger very long on those details. This guy looks pretty normal, though, so it's possible they just never crossed paths at home. He doesn't seem thrilled to be having this conversation, so it would track that Tony had already done something to piss him off.]

Or, here's a concept, we don't go there. From what I've heard, it sucks. Almost as much as bookstores. [He's smiling, welcoming whatever passion Jonathan might have for defending the books. By the looks of it, he has some old school tastes.]

Really? The young man can think faster than almost any AI ~~though not about nearly so many things at once~~, and even he has to pause to stare at Tony. Part of him wants to laugh. He really should laugh. But... well, that isn’t going to happen. Instead he looks half disappointed.

“Wow so don’t call me sweetheart or I will blow up something precious to you. And it is a meal sized for a family. Not saying It sharing. I got hungry after dinner and decided I needed a lift snack.”

Listen, the Agrii are nice, but they are NOT prepared for someone of Tommy’s metabolism. He’s been forced to conserve so much energy and barely ever run, even after protein paste tier of kidnapping was unlocked. He’s been gorging and enjoying his powers for a change. Still can’t do explosions though. Not that he would tell Tony.

“The family is on a date. Well, Billy and Teddy are. Aunt Lorna is off doing Lorna shit and Aunt Wanda is so not in need of watching me eat. Would bring up painful memories.”

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?

Replicators were even better than having an all expense paid vacation. Once Cayde had come across the thing he'd spent the better part of... Well, go figure he'd lost track of the time. Usually Sundance was there to remind him of that sort of thing. It was something he knew he'd never get used to, not having her around.

But of course in the meantime that meant easily getting lost in distractions, and the Exo had been huddled by this replicator like an addict at a lucky slot machine.

"-pork broth, wheat noodles- thin ones, uh...oh! And a soft-boiled egg. And probably an unhealthy dose of MSG. Or does that need to be translated... Uchk, I'll never take a bowl of ramen for granted again," he muttered. He wasn't expecting much- surely a replicated thing couldn't beat the real deal, but he hadn't yet thought to try food until now.

Glancing over at the man with the loaded bag, he seemed to smile somehow, gesturing towards the replicator. "Have you tried making food with this thing before? I'm not sure how specific I needa b- oh wait, there it is."

The Hunter was certainly the sort to stand out, what with glowing blue optics and amber backlighting his throat whenever he opened his mouth. Yet while he possessed metal features he was dressed...well, not like a local, but he wore clothing like an organic being would, outfitted for travel, for adventure if not something more, given the worn edges of his greaves, the tattered ends of the hooded cloak. At his right hip he wore a holster with a large gun tucked into it, and at his right, looking slightly newer than everything else, a sheathed, long knife nearly as long as his forearm, byproduct of his replication experiments, no doubt.

They don't-

[ Jon cuts himself odd and casts a sharp look of disapproval at Tony instead, sort of regretting that all he can do is glare at a camera. Tony might be surprised to learn that they are literally the same age. Jon, not so much. ]

Your lack of appreciation for printed knowledge aside, it's doubtful that we get any word in the matter. We had none when they sent us here.

[ A green haired mutant appears on camera, her chin resting on her palm. ]

Well, well, look who joined the ranks of us here. You trying to make a tinder profile or...?

[ A tone that's lightly amused with a half smile. ]

[Oh, close. The disapproval seems to delight Tony, who cocks his head innocently just before his smile splits into a laugh.]

You just weren't properly prepared yet. You've got me on the team now. We'll be home and sniffing books like perverts before you know it. What's this? [He twirls a finger in the air, winding, for the cassettes.] Not records? You like making your life difficult?

[He spreads his free hand, welcoming her scrutiny. From Billy's explanation, its hard to know when Polaris is from, but she looks reassuringly healthy and stable enough.]
It's all about location. When you've got a princess near you, it's worth trying. I must have done pretty well, but if you have any tips, I'm a great student.

The clothing had the first effect, standing out as inconsistent with the local style, like a cowboy had just wandered into Miami Beach. In Tony's personal experience, that meant this person hadn't had their chance to acclimate yet, and might have still been in their own Shopping-In-A-Bathrobe stage of discovery. Tony almost backed away, sure he was in no position to be the guide here, but found himself rooted to the spot. Without the outfit, Tony might have guessed this...construct was hotel property, an advanced robot designed for building maintenance. And it was armed. That hit him with a kind of shock; even in his brief time here, the weaponry had been conspicuously absent. Every other visit he had paid to an alien planet, it seemed like even the children carried explosively deadly weapons. Was that armor?

The weapons did not deter Tony. He immediately approached at the question, as though it was an invitation, trying to construct what might have been the shape hidden under the clothes. It moved very organically, the fit of the fabric suggesting the body wasn't all hard angles like the helmet, but smoother edged like a natural musculature. Maybe it was just a helmet? "Avoid brand names, doesn't like that," was his advice on the replicator, but he had come up so close and stared so hard at Cayde that his mind was clearly not on the problem of food. Why didn't Tony get his armor?

[ Oh, great. This guy is just like Tim. Or more like everything annoying about Tim increased by eleven. Jon may be bound to loathe this one.

An emotion that his expression displays very well at first. Then it tips for a few moment into a mixture of flustered surprise at Tony's comment about sniffing books like perverts. Did he really have to put it like that? Though that expression quickly cringes away and ultimately settles back into annoyance. Slightly flustered annoyance. ]

Marvelous. We will leave rebuilding the city to you, then.

[ And he's placing his hand down over his tapes, almost protectively. ]

And these are none of your concern.

...that wasn't a helmet.

As Tony moved closer he'd be able to see it, the intricate shifting of the metal plates that made up the various planes of the Exo's face, lifting in the arch of a brow, metal lids shuttering slightly over his optics before widening again as he took in the offered advice, nodding.

"No brand names. Huh." His mouth moved, jaw seeming the stiffest part of his facial construction but still managing to suggest thoughtful frowns and smirks and smiles with just the slightest parting, further enhanced by expressive eyes. "Well, not like I can r'member any outside of weapon companies anyway."

He looked from the man to the replicator again, pulling off a double snap-point with his gloved hands directed at the machine. "Ooh! Pork! Thin-sliced, marinated in soysauce and slow-cooked until tender to top it off. Go!" He wiggled his fingers as though casting a spell, watching expectantly as the machine set to work. And then he noticed that the guy was still staring at him, so he glanced back with another quirk of his brow. He was totally giving the man a weird look.

"Eeeuuuhr.... Should I have ordered two?"

[If anything could be more entertaining to Tony than disapproval, it's 'slightly flustered annoyance'. Tony liked this one.]

But I'm concerned, Johnny Boy. You know they have replicators here, technology so advanced they can just create anything you ask for? And you're playing with a blip in the storage format development timeline. Do you even know how bad that shit is for the environment? At least the books are paper, that breaks down, it's the processing that's so destructive. But those guys are going to be sitting around in dumpsters until the heat death of the universe.

It was so articulated. The best Tony had ever been able to do with his helmet was stick a nose on it. Any more than that, and it was too creepy, did not test well with any age group or inventors with mirrors. This wasn't creepy. It was beautiful. He could see how the mouth moved to make an accent, a unique mouth and jaw position that had to be learned from birth and only a linguist would think to build into any kind of synthetic being with any degree of believable success. Tony had certainly never thought of it.

Tony was so entranced by this detail, that directly addressing him only made it worse. The light display in the mouth didn't serve an obvious purpose except to help Tony see how each piece slid and fit together with every minute expression, how the interior was just as detailed-- "That's your face." Truly, an observation of engineering genius. How strange that sounded out loud did finally snap Tony out of his reverie, but he didn't have a good excuse for it, so he grinned instead, toothy and lopsided. "It's exquisite."

[ At this, Jon's glare turns cold and a flicker of static disruption distorts the video feed for a moment and he speaks slowly, his voice dropped low. ]

These are not a choice of aesthetics. They are hardly a choice at all.

[ He narrows his eyes further, glare intensifying and causing some further disruptions. ]

Without a choice.

You use.

What works.

[ Jon blinks his glare away and lets out a soft exhale to relax somewhat. The flickering ceases immediately and his tone returns to normal. ]

And don't call me that.

[ fake it 'til you make it. ]

I put 'magnetic personality' in mine because that's Original Content right there. [ Sarcasm. So much sarcasm. ] Are you sure you need that kind of material right now?

[Is he about to Hulk out? The demeanor is pretty familiar, although Bruce wouldn't want to be accused of being quite so uncool. Tony has enough experience with this kind of threat display, though, to know when to shut up and let him play it out.

Even the cool down is familiar. Tony has to see what this Hulk is.]

What's, ah...what is it you need to work, big guy?

Oh, that's terrible. I want to counter you with something worse, but even I can't be more corny. Brava.
Do you think it's not a good time? What if the love of my life is on this planet, when will I get another chance?

It wasn't any response Cayde expected, so while he seemed taken aback, he wasn't exactly sure how to react. "Errr. Yeeeeah...?" The follow-up made it only slightly better, but he had to remind himself he wasn't in the Last City or on a planet he'd ever heard of so the likelihood of anyone else having seen an Exo aside from himself was pretty slim.

He didn't at all mind being called exquisite. It wasn't a compliment he often received, and for a moment he preened at the man's words. "Oh, well thanks! I've gotten pretty attached to it."

'Exquisite', he murmured to himself, all too amused and promising himself he'd have to remember that one to inform Ikora. Whenever he got back, anyway. A noise from the replicator turned his attention to the promise of food, eyes brightening in delight at the bowl of ramen that sat there.

"Now ain't that a work of art. Probably won't beat the freshmade real deal but at least it looks right."

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Stranger in a Strange Land

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