revivalproject | Calibrations Waiting Room Mingle

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Calibrations Waiting Room Mingle

WHO: ALL HE ROWS
WHERE: The Secret Tunnel, which has become the Calibrations Waiting Room (or was it always...?)
WHAT: Mingle log for literally anything you'd like to take place in the waiting room between sleep cycles during the event
WHEN: June 3 - July 10
WARNINGS: Please mark individual threads with warnings

For those that have heeded Ga Re's warning, the door within the secret tunnel - which looks suspiciously like the hatch to one of your shuttles - is wide open, waiting for you. You walk through... and the door behind you disappears. You’re now standing in a cavernous, cold, white waiting room. There are hallways leading off the main corridor with names above each. One of them has your name and will draw you toward it, inevitably.

And on the wall, in pink, running letters is written this single greeting:

‘Welcome to Calibrations’.

The secret tunnel has become a large waiting room with chairs, tables, and the same food dispensers available in the shuttles. There are also communal bathrooms - one for each gender - with several toilet stalls and shower stalls in each, including basic shampoo and soap dispensers, like you might find in a hotel. The water isn’t hot, so hopefully you don’t mind lukewarm showers. Somehow, at least, it never goes cold.

Branching off the main waiting room room are the labeled hallways. At the end of each short hallway is a door, with the same character’s name written on them. Anyone can enter any room, regardless of the name written on it. Everyone has their own room, though of course people can share. Each room has a simple bed (approximately queen-sized) and a set of drawers.

You can opt to spend time in your room or in the larger, common waiting room. (And if you do, you can thread it out here!) But every 16 hours, you'll feel a compulsion: You need to sleep. Right now. You find yourself going into your room (or someone else's, if you really want). But you’re drawn to the bed. You can’t help but lie down. And then, you fall asleep.

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That wasn't the first time Tony had heard a story like it, but being trapped in a dead-end job that wasn't the first choice and whatever kept Jon tangled up in this life he had stumbled into were very different things. Jon made it sound so normal, like he was just paying off the degree. It was the self-medicating that got Tony to stop toying with Jon's shirt, though, releasing his hand to fix Jon with a questioning stare. He had brought his little snacks, and he said himself that there was likely to be enough fear packed into this space to keep him sated, so Tony wasn't sure why he thought there was a need to knock himself out, unless this wasn't a bunker-specific solution of his. Tony pushed himself up onto his knees again, straddled over Jon's thighs to keep him pinned, tucking his own ill-gotten gains into his back pocket to free his hands. "Because you think you're going to hurt somebody?" he asked, "Or for the nightmares?" Tony looked as though Jon better have a third option, because neither of them were impressing him.

Tony's reaction is stronger than Jon has expected and it's all he can do to pull his hands and arms in and over himself almost defensively and stare up at Tony with wide eyes. "Tony, I just-"

He manages to cut himself off before panicking for the sole reason of being pinned down. He knows he has no reason to be afraid of Tony. That Tony wouldn't harm him. He is just worried. Reminding himself of this, Jon exhales and simply gives a small shake of his head.

"I just- I don't want to be constantly awake, Tony. It's quiet. It's lonely. And all I do is think. Just thinking. Day in, day out. I would love to spend some of that time with you, but- It's not something I can ask of you the entire time." Is this an acceptable response? Jon doesn't know. He's still struggling to fully justify this to himself and he can see how it may upset Tony - Jon would be upset, too.

The defensiveness isn't impressive, either, making Tony touch his tongue to his teeth, eyes narrowed in scrutiny of the posture that Jon hadn't taken with him before, even among all of the complaints for Tony's harassment. It made Tony ease back slightly, sliding closer to Jon's knees in a move that he hoped looked like he was just getting comfortable with a hand planted in the bed next to Jon's hip, gaze down apologetically for not noticing when they had taken this step back. Jon's self-consciousness might have been a hint, if he was paying attention. He couldn't just let Jon say something like that though-- he took on enough of an addictive disposition with his eating habits, he didn't have to start with the 'it helps me sleep' refrain with this now. "Have you started taking them?" Tony asked carefully. "I thought I told you, I had my methods, one to ten or whatever..." It was hard to remember what he had said to Jon then, it didn't seem as funny now.

"I, ah..." Jon begins, then drops his head to the side with a little frown, willing the tension in his own body to subside enough for his hands to drop down and settle over his stomach, the fingers of his one hand scraping their nails lightly over the scars on the other. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and gives a small shake of his head.

"No, I..." He pauses for a moment, then exhales while setting his eyes back on the array of bottles. "I was afraid to try." Afraid to find out it doesn't work on him. Afraid to find another piece of his humanity gone.

Jon turns a rueful look back up at Tony "I'm sorry. I- Didn't mean to worry you." He probably just shouldn't have said a thing. Tony shouldn't have to worry about him. But he supposes it's nice that he does. That he cares enough to worry.

If this was another thing Tony had to look out for now, he didn't even know what the signs were. Jon already looked overwrought and under-rested, Tony was starting to think he was born that way, so Tony really only had his word to trust that this wasn't a problem. Yet. Tony didn't even know if that worrying of his hands was a bunker thing, a Tony thing, or this thing. He chanced taking one of Jon's hands, nudging the other aside as he brought it to hold against his thigh and leave Jon less protectively covered and more vulnerable to Tony's insistence, "Let me fix it." He wasn't sure if it was a more obviously manipulative move than the arm around Jon's neck, but it did feel a little worse as he did it, making him quickly release Jon's hand again and offer an innocent grin. "You don't want to be left dead-sleeping through the good shit," he continued to fill the space. "Haven't you been in a dorm? One eye open, at all times, or you're the one without an eyebrow in the morning." He tapped his own, he knew that struggle, it wasn't a worthy one. "I'm not saying I would instigate such shenanigans, obviously, some of us are more mature than that, but I do have to point out that there is a table out there and I'm willing to bet you your glasses back that I can get Cayde to give us a dance in under 72 hours of lockdown. You want to be asleep?"

Jon gives no protest to having his hands moved, but he does watch the motion with some bewilderment. Right. He may not need another nervous habit. Which may emerge either way if he can't even go outside for a cigarette. And he has nurtured that particular bad habit pretty well back into shape over these past few months.

One of his released hands comes to settle on Tony's knee on its own accord and Jon gives it a light squeeze while tilting his head up at Tony with a still somewhat muddled expression on his face "...are you trying to tempt me with the idea of Cayde dancing on a table?" Yes, that's an honest question. A question that is followed by a small groan and Jon's remaining hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose "And please, don't remind me of my uni days. Though I was probably the last person anyone sought to risk crossing paths with at night..."

"Are you not tempted?" Tony purred, taking the glasses from atop his head to give them a provocative wiggle mirrored in a shimmy of his hips, absolutely certain Cayde would make the greatest spectacle out of anyone around here of that move and/or breaking the table and genuinely baffled that he would have to sell the idea any more than that. He took an arm of the glasses gently between his teeth, eyebrows raised expectantly. How could anyone turn down a bet like that? Winnings on either end, and something to keep Jon's mind occupied so it wasn't all quiet thinking. The glasses were folded against Tony's palm quickly for him to laugh, though, at Jon's school suffering, eyes narrowed in gleeful curiosity. "Is that not what this is like?" he suggested again, the communal bathrooms, a bunch of people you didn't really like crowding the kitchen. Gasping like he had solved the puzzle, Tony said, "You were the one puking all over the showers."

While those brief movements of Tony's hips sure draw Jon's attention for that moment, earning Tony a small blush, the Archivist finds it difficult to plain set aside the man's words. Maybe it's up to him to keep a list of beings to be jealous of. And apparently he will have three days by himself to do so while Tony goes about fussing over the Exo. Thrilling.

"Tony... We aren't all preoccupied with robot men." Is what he says with a small, underlying sigh while pushing himself back up into a sitting position, eyes falling down to where Tony is sitting on his legs and contemplating how to shuffle out of that little trap without thoroughly embarrassing himself, the comment to Tony's teasing guesswork somewhat absent-minded. "...and I was in a weird place back then."

This wasn't working, Jon was clearly not buying what Tony had for sale and it made Tony's shoulders drop, deflated, at the rejection of the occupying bet, and readily move aside to collapse onto the mattress in disappointment, abandoning the tactic. Jon could have at least gotten mad at him for it. Without anything else prepared on tap to try to distract Jon out of this mood, he wallowed on his back where he fell, itching at his heart and staring across the bed at Jon's tiny apothecary at the other side of him, muttering, "Weren't we all? I mean, please." If Jon meant his school experience was somehow weirderer than his current place, though...That warranted following up. Tony rolled his head up to face the ceiling with a puzzled expression at this realization and asked quietly, not exactly at Jon who didn't seem to want much to do with him anymore right now, he got it, "What's weird to you?"

Sorry, Tony. He's too exhausted by everything at the moment to get mad.

"It's called puberty, I know." Jon agrees, moving to sit next to Tony, prodding the man's arm closest to him in a wordless inquiry to make some room for the Archivist to tug himself away at Tony's side, maybe let him rest his head on his shoulder this time. Being pinned down or teased may not be high on his list at the moment, but he does appreciate the company - And the potential warmth. "Didn't help that my grandmother passed away at that time, to be fair. Let myself be... Talked into a few things you would laugh at me for. Yes, it included dressing up as space pirates to go on a stage in a pub late at night." No more details on that should be needed.

"If you ask weird... I would offer taking you through our artifact storage. Or introduce you to Helen." No, it's true. The really weird things of Jon's life are situated in his most recent years now. Everything else falls under growing up.

Edited 2020-06-10 08:50 (UTC)

No longer wallowing but lounging carelessly, Tony's confidence was immediately back at the prodding, rejection forgotten to welcome Jon in the curl of his arm and glad to better occupy his fingers by walking them carefully over his scalp as he settled. Tony wasn't sure if he should offer his condolences for Jon's loss, it was a while ago and Tony wouldn't have wanted to hear it about his parents, but he did fully understand how losing a guardian could make a person go weird. They obviously had very different wild experiences, and, yes, Tony did start laughing already at 'dressing up', fully prepared for every detail that followed to be stupid, because that was very much not how he acted out. He would call that weird, sure, Jon wasn't wrong, and Tony was definitely going to need more details.

Tony waved off the offer with the hand still holding Jon's glasses, not meaning to imply he had any interest in getting closer to Jon's weird job or friends. "I've been there," he said with certainty. "Don't think I'd like it any better with a different tour guide." And he would much rather find out about who was convincing Jon to play pretend for the masses. "See, you already know, space pirates are the height of entertainment. You don't think Cayde's a bit of a space pirate? Oh, you know how definitely is? I'll get Poe to do it. Have you met?" Another important realization, Tony's fingers plucking at Jon's hair insistently, "That's your type," because he hadn't answered that question.

Finding his unspoken request accepted, Jon loses no time to settle down at Tony's side, head on the other man's shoulder and his hand replacing Tony's over his heart, feeling the heartbeat underneath and finding a content smile for himself that may not entirely visible to Tony from his angle. Though the lack of protest at the laugh may be telling in one way or another. And he's perfectly fine with not having to introduce anyone to any part of the Institute, so that rejection is perfectly acceptable.

"I'm familiar with Poe." Jon confirms, his tone dropping a little to the idle side now that he has gotten comfortable "Not sure how much of a pirate he is, but he certainly is a pilot. But please, Tony. Only because I needed to pay for living in London doesn't mean I have much interest in any more space pirates in my life." He makes a small, remotely bemused noise. "...you get a lot of inappropriate offers when you put on some horrid makeup and point a false gun at a drunken audience, though." And that may be the reason why he had been glad to have gotten the job at the Institute back then.

Why did no one agree with him about Poe's pirate thing? Someone else had to see it, maybe someone else who had watched enough Star Trek to see the dashing space rogue. All of these alien cultures had terrible cultural touchstones, they couldn't be reasoned with. With the glasses against his palm again, Tony gingerly touched Jon's fingertips with a flutter of anxiety changing the beat under his palm, but didn't tug them away, only nudged between his knuckles like he meant to arrange them nonchalantly. The work jumped as Tony started to chuckle again and asked, enchanted by this outline Jon was sketching for him, "What kind of pub was this?" The kind of offers young Jon must have been getting while dolled up in a bar didn't sound like they came with a contract. "I'm sorry I missed your big debut. You could have been a kept man all this time. Hey, you could be the entertainment-- that'll keep you occupied."

Jon watches Tony's fingers against his own and peers up at the man's laugh, smiling softly but not without the hint of a smirk and the slightest tilt of the head indicating a shrug "The locations changed. Pubs were one thing - Just imagine a regular pub. But I was also dragged to small events and- Whatever paid. I believe most of the group hoped to get into the arts. Me? I just could sing, yell at a room of drunk strangers and pretend to hold an instrument. Trust me, it was dreadful." And yet for once it was nice to talk about something other than monsters and things that wanted him dead.

"Though I'm afraid I must reject your offer to serve as general entertainment for the assembled souls." Jon notes with his eyes back to where his hand rests on Tony's chest, his index finger drawing faint circles where it lies without the rest of his palm moving. "I'm good with entertaining you."

"Wait--" As interested as Tony was in all of the ways Jon could be entertaining him, this one took precedence, enough to have him tipping Jon back onto the bed to brace himself up and stare down at him, ecstatic. Up until now, he had been picturing 'space pirates' as some kind of weird play act, maybe very misguided sketch comedy at an open mic night, he hadn't really made the connection that the venue must have meant a musical event. "Was this some kind of Bowie cover band?" he asked, and ruffled Jon's hair up to help form the image for himself which was already thoroughly in place, and this did the opposite of helping. Still, this was an exciting enough concept to him that he bounced up onto his knees again, saying, "And they paid you for it? I would have given anything to be able to go full Johnny Rotten and break bottles over my head when I was in school, I couldn't even do that shit outside of the workshop. I already had a gig lined up. You didn't want to do that?"

Oof. And he had just gotten comfortable...

Jon blinks up at Tony in momentary irritation, but that excited expression the man gives him- Well, fine. He may have no choice but to forgive. The question makes him chuckle, but also shake his head "Don't worry. We had our own songs. As I said: Most of the group hoped to turn this into a career. It just... It wasn't what I wanted to do with my life?" It's a truth. A truth followed by a second truth, delivered with a single, raised index finger "Besides, you start breaking bottles in a pub, and you will be the first they toss out. Part of the entertainment group or not."

At this age, it was obvious that leading a punk band was not a productive career choice, but Tony couldn't imagine having any degree of success at it when he was sixteen, restless and bored with his thesis, and thinking it wasn't really for him. The car crash probably would have taken a lot of the fun out of it, in hindsight. Jon probably had that kind of clarity, too, and now Tony really was sorry he had missed that phase of his, it wasn't sounding like he was eager to make a comeback and Tony could fully understand making inappropriate offers if Jon was shouting at him in a leather jacket. "Your friends sound awesome," he pointed out. "You've been holding out on me. What other incredibly sexy adventures were you getting into before you settled down in your old age? Did you discover a star while in school? Were you the TA that carried a ruler just to be kind of threatening? Did you wear the space pirate getup to the class where you made students call you Mr. Sims and first saw the star?"

Those assumptions get a snort out of Jon who now sits up and pulls up one of his knees to rest his arm on while giving the other man an uneven, yet challenging smirk "Tony, there is very little more embarrassing than having to run to class in your full stage outfit because the night ended up longer than planned and you didn't get to go home and maybe had a little too much to drink and you are sore and tired and hungry - And your teacher calls you by your goddamn stage name to step up before the entire class to answer some questions she was certain you had no answers for." A pause is what follows, mostly for dramatic effect. "Needless to say I hijacked her class. In-character. Then aggressively 3taught them everything about diffusiophoresis and diffusioosmosis. She never risked it again, but I did... Occasionally... Wear the heavy coat to lectures."

Sore and tired and hungry had to be where Jon did his best work because Tony hadn't had the chance to see him be anything else in this place, so adding hungover to that powerful mix must have been his sweet spot. Tony might never have listened to anything Jon said more attentively than he did now, absolutely ready for embarrassing if that was what Jon was offering and receiving a much greater gift that had him nodding encouragingly with an open grin, trying very hard not to interrupt with a laugh. If Jon had any doubt about how Tony felt about this story, he cleared it up quickly by dropping forward for a kiss, a slow slide of his lips at first as he finally fumbled to release the glasses he had stolen onto the book at Jon's side among the vials of his experiments, so he could take Jon's face in both hands to tip it up into a truly filthy probe of his tongue to best convey what the words 'aggressively taught' did to him. Maybe a private lecture series, that was how they could keep Jon occupied, but he was right, that wasn't the kind of thing decent people did in public. Tony only drew back enough to ask, starting to laugh finally, "What was your stage name?"

If Jon is perfectly honest, then that isn't the reaction he would have expected. Especially not in such intensity. Being laughed at, yes, he would have expected that, but- Who is he to complain? This is by far better than being laughed at. And it leaves Jon with having to figure out which part of his story resulted in this particular reaction.

Jon's reaction to the kiss is to instinctively hold onto Tony's arm and shoulder and close his eyes once the first moment of stunned stupidity to return the kiss while it lasts. Yes, he definitely will have to figure out what caused this. Tony pulling back has Jon blinks a few times, licking his lips at the laugh and lightly biting his lip at the question. Now this is certain to lead to Tony having a new nickname to use on him. So while his vision is a little blurry due to the lack of his glasses, Jon still can see Tony well enough to lock his eyes with the other man's as he now closes some more of the gap between them to reply with a low. almost a little too serious voice "Jonny d'Ville." The name is followed by a brief, simple kiss - A quiet note that he trusts Tony to not use it in public.

"So." He says, leaning his head back just enough to ask the important question himself: "Do I need to dress up, sing or teach you chemistry?"

That might not have been the kind of trust Jon should have been putting in Tony, he had basically just handed him some top shelf, finely aged Humiliation and asked him not to indulge. "That is dreadful," he agreed, "Really bad," clearly gleeful to have this new fodder by the way his fingers itched restlessly over the back of Jon's neck and up through his hair. The came back down over Jon's throat to smooth down his chest before dropping back to the bed for Tony to hold himself up as he considered the question very seriously, thoughtful hum belied by his gaze jumping around Jon's face that kept on tugging back to his mouth. "You know what, considering new information that has come to light, I'm thinking I should maybe meditate on it a bit, you know, figure out what kind of people I should be associating with for the sake of my own reputation," he smirked.

This Archivist just wants to trust those he cares for, that's all. It's up to Tony no to abuse that trust.

"Well, obviously you like to associate with space pirates." Jon remarks, letting his fingers trail down Tony's arm with a slightly tilted head before leaning back further and regarding the man before him, raising a challenging brow that barely manages to hide some freshly budding insecurities. At least Jon's hands aren't shaking. But no. Tony enjoys teasing much more than outright cruelty. "Does this meditation fall under my yoga lessons?"

Tony had been caught already, reputation in tatters; he clutched a hand to his heart, eyes closed, smiling like he couldn't have been suffering that much. It was true, he had a weakness, even for space pirates with secret identities. "Hey!" he jumped out of the performance, jolted by the reminder of yoga and thrilled that Jon hadn't been the one to forget. "We have a trade now. You sing for me, I let you pretend to be a terrible student to keep me correcting your posture," he said, innocent grin back as though both those things weren't going to be purely for Tony's entertainment. "Don't expect too much from the mediation part, though, can't help you there, this place is Grand Central," he added with a gesture up toward his face. "Maybe we'll figure it out together."

Maybe not purely Tony's entertainment. If it means that Jon gets to ensure Tony has those hands of his in just the right, strategically chosen places... Isn't that one of the reasons why he hasn't dismissed the offer of Tony's yoga lessons? Of course it is.

He meets Tony's proposal with a confident smile as he accepts "We have a deal. And I agree. We may have to find our own... Mental... Plane... I suppose." The last bit breaks off into a little, involuntary chuckle. If there is one thing Jon sure if perfectly aware of, then that Tony's have have proven very skilled at shifting Jon's thoughts away from reality. Maybe not a common form of meditation, but still most effective.

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Calibrations Waiting Room Mingle

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