Tony Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
in_extremis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2020-05-25 07:33 pm
in_extremis) wrote in revivalproject2020-05-25 07:33 pm
ruminate
WHO: Tony, Eli and anyone hungry.
WHERE: Vanto's Diner
WHAT: A regular meeting of a breakfast club, and some investigative interviews to build a database of the city
WHEN: Most mornings for a while, if Tony remembers to emerge from his mad lab
WARNINGS: Tony.
YOU KNOW I HAVE NOTES: If you want to have an interview with specifically Tony, Jon or both of them, just make that clear somewhere in your tag, don't stand on ceremony. If you're coming to breakfast, do threadjack.
for Eli
Food in general had been a series of continuously upsetting discoveries since Tony's arrival, everything native entirely new and having either an unexpected flavour profile, a very wrong texture, or turning out to be highly combustible. The latter had made him frustratingly skittish about even trying something else new, reducing his options even further, until he was sure it didn't come with adverse side effects like a total alcoholic relapse. Some gassiness he could deal with; he didn't know if he could handle an entire break from reality right now, that already felt on edge with his reality so inscrutably distant. While he hadn't ever been great about his eating habits, this situation was a test. His patience was already questionable, and he was starting to lose focus. The forge was difficult enough to run on his own, if he started losing more mass the work would slow to a crawl.
Most importantly, he hadn't had a cup of coffee in a brutal lifetime and a hit of caffeine would really solve all of his problems. His most reliable company in Temba weren't really big eaters, if that was something, but he didn't have to ask around; the little sign in the window declaring 'Vanto's Diner' had been a consistent enough curiosity every time Tony had to cross through the centre of town. If anyone could offer Tony some relief, it had to be the Vanto of the diner, which this desperate morning Tony was imagining had to be one of those retro type, vinyl boothed, checker floored staples where a waitress had a pot of coffee in either hand at all times. He could practically smell it. He wasn't exactly disappointed that it clearly wasn't when he had dragged himself all the way up from the forge, but he still closed his eyes and sniffed the air as he stepped inside, sad to see the fantasy go. It was dark, the long night not quite subdued yet by the rising sun, and the scattered tables were empty when Tony allowed himself to accept the reality and look around, but the one promise the sign lived up to was that this place didn't seem as abandoned as the rest of the city. "Hello?" Tony tried, wandering further into the room, wondering if this was a self-serve situation, and offered to the space, "You should maybe get a bell, something, liven the place up..."
the breakfast special
It got lively in Eli's diner by mid-morning. It was one of the few communal spaces established in the city, and with the population so small and spread across the crumbling area, it had to be a natural contact point for even the most reclusive residents when the cabin fever, as it were, set in. The one thing they all confidently had in common was that fountain outside. Everything else, how or if they settled in this city and what they did with their time, what planet they were from, what time period, what species, were all barriers between them that the fountain flowed through. Tony didn't have a lot of faith in Eli's branding or business plan otherwise, but the location was an undeniable spark of genius.
He wound his way through the diner back to the table that had been claimed while he waited for their meals, balancing several plates from Eli that rattled ominously as he tried to carefully lift them over other people's heads, but couldn't confidently tell anyone what was on any of them. "Which one of us got the...blue, herby experiment? I've got a kind of orange porridge concoction. And this looks a lot like a tea biscuit, which, honestly, I'm threatened by," he announced as he arrived, ready to dole out however a meal was claimed; he had faith he could eat what remained, if anything.
take a seat
The video shared to the Net Work had been short, with Tony looking off screen with a question in his expression directed toward someone who seemed to be with him when he didn't seem sure how to construct his message. "Listen, this isn't working, we're all over the place," he had started, commiserating with the camera with what must have been a shared frustration with their situation. "Every day someone tells me something about this planet like it's common knowledge, like I'm supposed to know that if I turn three times in place clockwise at sunset, I'll summon Billy for fashion advice. When do you think I figured that one out, what was I supposed to be doing to make that breakthrough?...Okay, sorry, here it is, we're going to make a database, we want to start figuring this stuff out and sharing it, so there's a record in the library. We could use your help, everyone has figured something out or has seen something interesting that is worth looking into, and maybe together we can get a better idea of what we're working with, properly distribute the resources, that kind of thing...If you've got a minute, we'll be at Vanto's, it'll be super casual, no commitments, just the dirty parts. Must be good on camera, bring a headshot."
Video wasn't actually part of the recording process, but it was slightly imposing. Jon's tape recorder alone set a certain mood that Tony wasn't getting used to, but he brought with him to arrange on the table a small globe, not entirely unlike the data point outside the diner, that glowed faintly and connected by a myriad of wires to the exposed hardware of his communication device cracked open in front of him. He wasn't great at waiting without someone sitting with him, so if he was meant to be alone the globe pulsed ominously, abandoned on the table, while he flitted around the room or disappeared into Eli's kitchen to assess his hardware with a general impatient disappointment until he had a quick solution to a small problem that he thought he could get away with. With the Archivist, Tony lounged more easily, draped across his seat and nursing a drink, working out his impatience by obviously needling Jon and getting him just on the edge of snapping at Tony for the leading questions, trying to find new buttons to push with a taunting grin he wasn't even hiding.
WHERE: Vanto's Diner
WHAT: A regular meeting of a breakfast club, and some investigative interviews to build a database of the city
WHEN: Most mornings for a while, if Tony remembers to emerge from his mad lab
WARNINGS: Tony.
YOU KNOW I HAVE NOTES: If you want to have an interview with specifically Tony, Jon or both of them, just make that clear somewhere in your tag, don't stand on ceremony. If you're coming to breakfast, do threadjack.
for Eli
Food in general had been a series of continuously upsetting discoveries since Tony's arrival, everything native entirely new and having either an unexpected flavour profile, a very wrong texture, or turning out to be highly combustible. The latter had made him frustratingly skittish about even trying something else new, reducing his options even further, until he was sure it didn't come with adverse side effects like a total alcoholic relapse. Some gassiness he could deal with; he didn't know if he could handle an entire break from reality right now, that already felt on edge with his reality so inscrutably distant. While he hadn't ever been great about his eating habits, this situation was a test. His patience was already questionable, and he was starting to lose focus. The forge was difficult enough to run on his own, if he started losing more mass the work would slow to a crawl.
Most importantly, he hadn't had a cup of coffee in a brutal lifetime and a hit of caffeine would really solve all of his problems. His most reliable company in Temba weren't really big eaters, if that was something, but he didn't have to ask around; the little sign in the window declaring 'Vanto's Diner' had been a consistent enough curiosity every time Tony had to cross through the centre of town. If anyone could offer Tony some relief, it had to be the Vanto of the diner, which this desperate morning Tony was imagining had to be one of those retro type, vinyl boothed, checker floored staples where a waitress had a pot of coffee in either hand at all times. He could practically smell it. He wasn't exactly disappointed that it clearly wasn't when he had dragged himself all the way up from the forge, but he still closed his eyes and sniffed the air as he stepped inside, sad to see the fantasy go. It was dark, the long night not quite subdued yet by the rising sun, and the scattered tables were empty when Tony allowed himself to accept the reality and look around, but the one promise the sign lived up to was that this place didn't seem as abandoned as the rest of the city. "Hello?" Tony tried, wandering further into the room, wondering if this was a self-serve situation, and offered to the space, "You should maybe get a bell, something, liven the place up..."
the breakfast special
It got lively in Eli's diner by mid-morning. It was one of the few communal spaces established in the city, and with the population so small and spread across the crumbling area, it had to be a natural contact point for even the most reclusive residents when the cabin fever, as it were, set in. The one thing they all confidently had in common was that fountain outside. Everything else, how or if they settled in this city and what they did with their time, what planet they were from, what time period, what species, were all barriers between them that the fountain flowed through. Tony didn't have a lot of faith in Eli's branding or business plan otherwise, but the location was an undeniable spark of genius.
He wound his way through the diner back to the table that had been claimed while he waited for their meals, balancing several plates from Eli that rattled ominously as he tried to carefully lift them over other people's heads, but couldn't confidently tell anyone what was on any of them. "Which one of us got the...blue, herby experiment? I've got a kind of orange porridge concoction. And this looks a lot like a tea biscuit, which, honestly, I'm threatened by," he announced as he arrived, ready to dole out however a meal was claimed; he had faith he could eat what remained, if anything.
take a seat
The video shared to the Net Work had been short, with Tony looking off screen with a question in his expression directed toward someone who seemed to be with him when he didn't seem sure how to construct his message. "Listen, this isn't working, we're all over the place," he had started, commiserating with the camera with what must have been a shared frustration with their situation. "Every day someone tells me something about this planet like it's common knowledge, like I'm supposed to know that if I turn three times in place clockwise at sunset, I'll summon Billy for fashion advice. When do you think I figured that one out, what was I supposed to be doing to make that breakthrough?...Okay, sorry, here it is, we're going to make a database, we want to start figuring this stuff out and sharing it, so there's a record in the library. We could use your help, everyone has figured something out or has seen something interesting that is worth looking into, and maybe together we can get a better idea of what we're working with, properly distribute the resources, that kind of thing...If you've got a minute, we'll be at Vanto's, it'll be super casual, no commitments, just the dirty parts. Must be good on camera, bring a headshot."
Video wasn't actually part of the recording process, but it was slightly imposing. Jon's tape recorder alone set a certain mood that Tony wasn't getting used to, but he brought with him to arrange on the table a small globe, not entirely unlike the data point outside the diner, that glowed faintly and connected by a myriad of wires to the exposed hardware of his communication device cracked open in front of him. He wasn't great at waiting without someone sitting with him, so if he was meant to be alone the globe pulsed ominously, abandoned on the table, while he flitted around the room or disappeared into Eli's kitchen to assess his hardware with a general impatient disappointment until he had a quick solution to a small problem that he thought he could get away with. With the Archivist, Tony lounged more easily, draped across his seat and nursing a drink, working out his impatience by obviously needling Jon and getting him just on the edge of snapping at Tony for the leading questions, trying to find new buttons to push with a taunting grin he wasn't even hiding.
no subject
"I agree with him, Billy. This isn't a book club. No one will be mad at you for pointing out which page Dumbledore dies on. And... Speaking for myself? I would very much like to hear such spoilers. Whether they regard myself or someone I know." He pauses."I have no intention of forcing you, however."
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"I...it's-" he sighs, and looks truly sorry then- "...It's Cassie. I...we see Cassie out there, and...and I didn't want you to know...I'm sorry-"
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Billy's response, however, brings more questions than answers and Jon tilts his head a little, deciding to treat this interview even more like a statement and allowing the more steadying aspect of his compulsion to be carried through his words "Full names, please. This Cassie was a friend of yours, I assume. A close one." Close enough to compete with the image of their parents.
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He's not sure about continuing, but...stopping now feels just as cruel, so he nods. "...C-Casandra Lang. She was...mm- she was one of my best friends. Yeah... It wasn't supposed to happen..."
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But Tony has made it clear that his comfort isn't wanted.
So Jon turns his eyes back to the sphere for a moment, then pushes himself to turn back to Billy - Or at least in Billy's general direction. The Archivist's eyes are stuck on the table for a few more moments, quietly lamenting how to move on.
In the end, he lets out an exasperated sigh and rubs both his hands up his face, pressing his fingertips under the rim of his glasses and against his eyes "Christ, I wish he would let me help him with these things." Jon groans before dropping his hands again and shaking his head, trying to refocus "I... ah... right. I'm sorry. That..." He gestures a single hand, not yet really looking up again "So... She was a close friend you lost. And the storm... Showed it to you. Trying to lure you away."
He isn't confident that he can bring the conversation back on track, but he will try.
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"He's got more in common with Tommy than they might like to admit," Billy agrees with a sigh, nodding faintly.
"She was on our team, and...I lead us on a mission that got her killed, so...mm- we've all seen her. Me...Tommy, Teddy."
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"Tony, he... He cares about you. You, your brother, your friends... How do you know him? You're from the same world, obviously, but- How do you all fit together?" Jon doesn't know Teddy yet, but Tommy and Billy both are mutants. Tony isn't. Not as far as Jon knows. But the man has hardly shared anything about himself.
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"Uh...well. He's the benefactor. So...sort of," he covers. Not a lie. Just...not the whole truth.
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Jon inhales deeply, then closes his eyes as a few pieces seem to click into place before deliberately not making his next words a question "He's... One of your superheroes, isn't he."
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"...Y-yeah...I didn't know he hadn't told you...He's um...he's Iron Man. But...no suit here, so..." He magics up an old action figure and sets it on the table for Jon to examine. "...Maybe...um...maybe don't mention it to him if he's not ready to talk about it?"
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Jon makes a fond little noise, then places the action figure back on the table, fiddling with it a moment to make it stand "It suits him." And a few things finally make sense at least. The way Tony has reacted to a few things Jon has said. He looks over his shoulder and in the direction Tony has wandered off to himself "...he's very much a hero even without a suit." He may be a little biased, but if Tony doesn't wish to talk about it, Jon won't force it.
That the recorder has been running this entire time, however... Now that's a different story.
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He smiles and nods easily. "He is," he agrees, "Even if we don't always agree, he's...a good person. I trust him. And Cassie was...one of his teammate's daughters. She grew up in the mansion, she was practically his niece. I...I didn't want him to have to know what happens..."
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"Christ, had I known... I- I wouldn't have pressed for the information. I'm sorry, Billy." And now he has intruded somewhere he shouldn't have. Sighing, he brings up one of his hands enough to run it through his hair "I want to trust him. And for him to trust me, but... I keep giving him reasons not to trust me, don't I?"
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