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)
revivalproject2020-06-03 05:21 pm
in_extremis) wrote in revivalproject2020-06-03 05:21 pm
in situ
WHO: Tony Stark, dangerously open
WHERE: Tony's Calibration Room
WHAT: You're stuck in Tony's head and good luck, buddy, he doesn't want to be there, either.
WHEN: During the Calibration Event (June 3rd - July 10th)
WARNINGS: Some body horror under the cut, but otherwise it depends on you. Digging for Tony's secrets is still going to be a challenge here, so if you work for it I'll assume you want to see that nasty stuff. I'll update as necessary.
Update: Horny, as usual.
There is bright, dazzling light in the eye immediately upon entering this room, another door directly in front of the entrance peppered with bursts of camera flashes and roving spotlights illuminating the fine, gold silk drapes around the open frame, flashing through intricate, stained glass mosaics set into the stone flanking the entryway, and glinting off of the golden struts where a velvet rope had hung but had been knocked carelessly to the floor, an open invitation. Through it is a sweet-smelling party, packed with beautiful people in even more beautiful clothes, laughing among the sumptuous chime of crystal in a warm, welcoming hall. The wall stretching away from either side of it reaches almost to the extreme edges of the room, incrementally decaying from polished brickwork to raw, cracked stone, tumbling down into rubble that litters the way further into this room around the corner from the rich door.
This building the door is set into is just a wall from the other side, built up into a dark cave of that raw stone. Tony is pacing behind it, nowhere in the cave welcoming enough to sit or linger, jagged piles of scrap metal where there wasn't cold stone lining the walls and scattered in piles that would have to be carefully navigated to avoid sharp edges glinting readily to slice into ankles. The lone occupant isn't dressed nearly as charmingly as anyone at that party that would have been such a good time, his once white shirt wrinkled and tattered and rolled up to his elbows, open at the collar and liberally stained black down the front with whatever dripped from his hands, thick and dark like oil and charcoal. In one hand, coated in this viscous liquor, his ever restless fingers worked erratically and mercilessly over a dark knot. The sweet smell of the hall is long gone here, overtaken quickly by acid and whiskey and a bitter, sick smoke.
Set into the back of the wall, there is a computer monitor, spilling a soft blue glow across the stone floor with a constant generation of lines of code in an alien alphabet that Tony throws judgemental glances at as he paces back toward the front of the cave. Most of the light comes from the back of the room, though, the roof of the cave opening to a bright, blue sky, where soft clouds make a slow march across and birds wheel freely, well above the curl of smoke that whisped up out of the cave and dissipated.
WHERE: Tony's Calibration Room
WHAT: You're stuck in Tony's head and good luck, buddy, he doesn't want to be there, either.
WHEN: During the Calibration Event (June 3rd - July 10th)
WARNINGS: Some body horror under the cut, but otherwise it depends on you. Digging for Tony's secrets is still going to be a challenge here, so if you work for it I'll assume you want to see that nasty stuff. I'll update as necessary.
Update: Horny, as usual.
There is bright, dazzling light in the eye immediately upon entering this room, another door directly in front of the entrance peppered with bursts of camera flashes and roving spotlights illuminating the fine, gold silk drapes around the open frame, flashing through intricate, stained glass mosaics set into the stone flanking the entryway, and glinting off of the golden struts where a velvet rope had hung but had been knocked carelessly to the floor, an open invitation. Through it is a sweet-smelling party, packed with beautiful people in even more beautiful clothes, laughing among the sumptuous chime of crystal in a warm, welcoming hall. The wall stretching away from either side of it reaches almost to the extreme edges of the room, incrementally decaying from polished brickwork to raw, cracked stone, tumbling down into rubble that litters the way further into this room around the corner from the rich door.
This building the door is set into is just a wall from the other side, built up into a dark cave of that raw stone. Tony is pacing behind it, nowhere in the cave welcoming enough to sit or linger, jagged piles of scrap metal where there wasn't cold stone lining the walls and scattered in piles that would have to be carefully navigated to avoid sharp edges glinting readily to slice into ankles. The lone occupant isn't dressed nearly as charmingly as anyone at that party that would have been such a good time, his once white shirt wrinkled and tattered and rolled up to his elbows, open at the collar and liberally stained black down the front with whatever dripped from his hands, thick and dark like oil and charcoal. In one hand, coated in this viscous liquor, his ever restless fingers worked erratically and mercilessly over a dark knot. The sweet smell of the hall is long gone here, overtaken quickly by acid and whiskey and a bitter, sick smoke.
Set into the back of the wall, there is a computer monitor, spilling a soft blue glow across the stone floor with a constant generation of lines of code in an alien alphabet that Tony throws judgemental glances at as he paces back toward the front of the cave. Most of the light comes from the back of the room, though, the roof of the cave opening to a bright, blue sky, where soft clouds make a slow march across and birds wheel freely, well above the curl of smoke that whisped up out of the cave and dissipated.
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That smell though~ Catra sniffed at the air, letting that alluring smell lead her into the entryway as she sought after the source.
I know where you're going but this is the stage okay
Straight ahead, leaning roguishly on the curling banister of a sweeping staircase that dominated the back of the hall, was a man who didn't quite seem to fit the restraint, draped in a long, pale gold cape and holding a red and gold kabuki mask up against his chin, its painted visage a metallic man with an electric blue scowl that didn't match the glitter in the grey eyes behind it, and the ribbons that would have tied it around his head trailing and twisted around his arm. He straightened, turning his shoulders slightly toward the door and away from the group that chattered easily around him, letting the mask slip slightly to the side in his hold to peek around it and offer a welcoming grin.
If that seemed dangerous, there was another door to the left where less of the masked people were crowded. It looked distinctly shabbier, like it could not have belonged to this posh hall, but a more suburban neighbourhood. A few younger looking people lingered around it, not masked or dressed for the gala, but in jeans and t-shirts, mostly carrying red solo cups and sharing cigarettes before slipping away through the door.
A third option to the right stood open, but no one seemed to be moving closer to or beyond it. It was darker in there, what light there was cooler and more subdued than the warm glitter of the gala.
The smell was everywhere. It could have been the open bar along one side of the room where a man was stirring a fragrantly citrus drink, or the dozen servers doing wide circuits through the hall with trays of bite-sized morsels balanced carefully on offer, or the swinging kitchen doors where they would disappear and emerge that hardly let out a clatter from the sound of cooking but wafted the scent of fresh searing and baking through the room.
'Straight'
""""
SHRIMPS
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"Come tell me what this is before I eat it all."
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"What's the deal with this whole thing anyway? Is it like a prom or....something like that? What's with the masks?"
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"It's kind of like a prom, sure," he agreed with a baffled laugh, and he really could not emphasize how little he knew about Catra now because his impression so far did not include fanciful high school mating rituals. "When did you go to prom?"
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She hummed, clearing off one of the platters and finally releasing the poor waiter. "Seems like if they really cared they'd just give the money right to the people who needed and not bother with all this fancy stuff. That's got cost a lot, right?"
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"...the guy giving out their powers?" Her head tilted in confusion, looking at Tony like he'd grown an extra head. "What are you talking about?"
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Despite the clear height difference she still moved to take the lead.
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