revivalproject | in situ

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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.

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"I care about everyone, Tony. That's what made me such a horrible executive. What makes me a horrible commissioner of the WRO. I care about people. Truly and deeply. And no one who works for me ever does so without earning it."

Though that Tony could admit the same wasn't true of him was telling. Then again, had he not seen the same of Rufus? Preferential treatment was given in line with the tastes of those in positions of authority. It was an abuse Reeve never allowed himself. One proved their value before they were given anything more than the bare minimum.

Which meant that his friends had an advantage only in that they had more than proved their value. They were worth more than Reeve was.

"Anyone who would dare suggest that men in positions of power and authority can only be straight would not have survived in Midgar. Sure, the late President Shinra was closed minded and thus I was forced to hide a few dalliances of mine, but... Well, it doesn't matter I suppose."

His hand settles gently on Tony's arm, even as the other moves to lift the owl mask up and off so he can give Tony a very serious look.

"You are better than the machinations of these people. You are better than the hard way you view yourself, or viewed yourself. That much I am already certain of. So perhaps it is important that you stop penalizing yourself for your past and move forward in time. While our pasts may shape the men we were, they need not define the men we are."

Then he puts the mask back on and moves to offer his hand out to Tony.

"Come dance with me. Show them and yourself that you're above their silly games. Don't be the man standing watch over the party. Rather, be a part of it. Enjoy it. Don't let it hamper or define you. Just let it be, well, a party, and one you've earned."

And Reeve would have earned his position at Stark with a few convincing speeches like that, making Tony's calculating study of him visibly soften with a smile. It wasn't an abuse of power to Tony to give a lot for a little, and a man like Reeve was bound to be found spinning his wheels as a low-tier lab technician while someone like Osborne profited off of his work on the back of his gentle spirit, in Tony's experience. That was the luxury of being the boss in control of the profit margins, handing out the bonuses and titles until they blew up in his face and Pepper was complaining about the books because tall, dark and handsome turned out to be a supervillain again. He did have excellent ideas, though.

The smile was gone with a slight twitch of surprise as Tony tried to interpret 'would not have survived'. He knew where Reeve had come from had its own problems with discrimination, he had made that clear enough, so he was still slightly baffled as he realized Reeve was trying to advise him to look more to the future. It made Tony tip his head back in a delighted laugh, not sure what he had done to give Reeve the impression that wasn't always where he was looking--it could have been this awful place they found themselves stuck in, but they had already spent so much of their time together feeling out the strange convergences of their pasts, he had to guess, that Reeve had enchanted Tony into forgetting he was the futurist. He had to wave a hand in apology for it, he wasn't laughing at Reeve and it wasn't his fault at all that Tony seemed to forget himself around him, and he definitely wasn't laughing at another pearl from the owl. It was easy to take Reeve's hand then, but with the other he pushed that mask back up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Did you pick this thing?" he asked of the mask as he plucked it off and stepped away to lead them down the stairs.

The cheek? He was both content with that, and vaguely disappointed. But he lets that drop, as well as the mask as he follows Tony down the stairs.

"Pick?" Reeve asks, his tone considering. "An interesting question. Most people associate me with cats, given Cait Sith, given Mini even. But an affection for folk tale and the stories my mother told never meant there was a specific affinity for them over other things. Owls? Creatures of wisdom, according to folk tales. Wisdom, foresight. They are omens of what is to come, if they are read correctly, and some say omens of death. They keep vermin populations under control and are the hunters you never see nor hear coming. Why would one not wish to emulate them?"

Okay, perhaps it was Reeve's subconscious giving it to some degree.

"You don't seem like much of a cat to me," Tony admitted in a mumble as Reeve continued his theory, and they were at the bottom of the stairs before Reeve had finished but that was where Tony hesitated, losing his nerve now that they were among the crowd. It was just a dream, it wasn't if one single real memory but a loose amalgamation that Tony could see parts of throughout the room, but he still moved his hold up around Reeve's elbow to guide him around the stairs instead, trying on Reeve's mask with a quick flash of a grin his way. It was a dream, but Reeve very much felt real, and Tony was trying to respect the distance he had asked for so there were still some boundaries here.

"Or do I see you as the hunter?" Tony proposed, tapping the mask and briefly squeezing tightly around Reeve's bicep to try the identity on before chuckling. That couldn't be right, Tony didn't know what or who that would make the vermin. "A portent of my future," he corrected as lead them out of the hall onto a cool balcony. "I already knew I'd be sexy in my old age, though." His eyes were still smiling behind the owl mask as he slipped his hand back into Reeve's. "If I had to pick, I think you would be..." he tried, and quickly found it was hard not think of Reeve as the owl, scrambling slightly to come up with, "A bear?"

A hunter? Reeve highly doubts that. And if he's a portent of Tony's future, he is sad for that future, a future where one destroys what is there before them, what is held precious above all.

"I think you're reading too much into it, Tony. But I'm definitely not hairy enough to be a bear."

Then again, the word may not have the same context in Tony's world as it had with it. Still, he was sad to see that smiling face go. His fingers came up to follow the lines of the pewter creation, saddened.

"Must you hide from me like this?"

No, maybe not hairy enough, making Tony snort, but he corrected, "A noble authority of her territory, nurturer and protector." The owl didn't suit him as well anyway, and Tony had too many risky videos in the wrong hands to be accused of hiding, please, he was an open book, so he conceded to lifting the mask off again to hand it back to its rightful owner, letting him offer a grin with some mischief then raise Reeve's hand to leave a gallant kiss on his knuckles. "You offered me a dance," he reminded Reeve, eyebrows up and hopeful that he could make this concession to move it away from the packed hall.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had a personal hand in nurturing anyone. But perhaps we’ve different views on my behavior.”

The mask was laced back on, but around his neck this time, so he didn’t have to worry about it obstructing his view of the other man. Then he nodded to Tony.

“I presume you’re the sort of man to lead. You don’t strike me as a follower.”

What did Reeve think he was doing with his little animal friends? What did Tony think he was doing with his little animal friends? Looking bemused by this declaration, Tony could only shrug, sure, different views, glad at least that was the statement they were in disagreement about. "And you're a fast learner," Tony accepted the suggestion, sweeping to take Reeve into a hold around his waist even as he sniffed, "Try not to step on these shoes. They were expensive."

"I already know how to lead," Reeve counters, chuckling as he says it and those hands catch him up. He might be very pleased to share this dance with Tony.

He may even be leaning in close to whisper in the other man's ear.

"They may be expensive, but to keep you from pain caused by me is far more precious."

One eye was on the door as Tony drew Reeve into the first step, but it was quickly forgotten as Reeve came close and Tony gladly held him there, bringing their clasped hands against his shoulder. "Seriously, an embarrassing amount of money," he insisted first, then his laugh was a warm gust down Reeve's neck. He didn't want to delve too deeply into that statement, as badly as he wanted to ask, because he didn't want to know that the answer was that Reeve would be that unreasonably sweet to anyone he danced with. Of course he would be.

"I know a lot of-- all of the people in there, probably, are manipulative and ruthless and--" Well. It didn't really matter, that wasn't the point Tony was trying to make. "But I have known some outrageously kind and generous people in my life, more than I've deserved the honour of knowing, I'm sure, and even the ones that can talk an army into a hopeless battle or council a bomb into diffusing, they never...express themselves. Like you do." What was the point? "I thought I was good at talking myself out of a problem." Nailed it.

The breath on his neck makes Reeve catch his breath. As much as he knows he shouldn't let his heart race with it, it still does. He remembers their night together. Remembers it very well, and that breath only brings it back to the fore. But he tries to push the thought aside, tries to keep this... civil. Friendly even.

"Sometimes I feel it would be more useful to be able to talk to people like that. My self-expression never seemed to get me very far with Shinra. No one ever chose to listen. I suppose it's refreshing that you do so with such eagerness."

He smiles and starts to bob his head a little to the music, clearly counting beats.

"Are you leading me around, or not?"

It had been Tony's impression that Reeve spoke the way he did because people readily listened, instead of talking around a problem and being guarded in case it was taken the wrong way, or taken advantage of. Maybe it was a symptom of the masks, but Tony couldn't think of a single Avenger that talked to anyone the way Reeve casually did with him, and Tony tried to explain, "No--" Not the utility of it, ignore that, don't start talking for the sake of efficient problem solving, "it's vulnerable." Maybe that wasn't the right way to explain, either. It was Reeve that was good at this, not Tony. He took the out Reeve offered him before he made it any worse, breathing another laugh at the prompt before sliding his hand up to catch Reeve in the deep dip Tony plunged them into and assured him, "By the tail." He spun them back up to a close waltz across the balcony, at double tempo to keep Reeve in a tight hold and force him close to follow or lose the footing.

Vulnerable. Yes, he had rendered vulnerable by Tony. But he smiles and lets himself be led on and and the dip earns a bit of shock for him. But he laughs in delight. The man's strength continues to impress him.

"Or by other things," he returns, even as he keeps himself in pace with the other man. He's good enough no to trip over the other man.

For someone who already knew how to lead, he also followed adeptly enough to not let Tony trip him, making Tony graciously slow their dance to consider a different angle to put Reeve off balance and not feeling optimistic that it would be possible in this venue, either. Swaying more deliberately, Tony gave a hum of intrigue then said, "I'm open to suggestions," with a wry grin, happy to get a grip around anything Reeve was still offering. Did Reeve's time mean not flirting with him anymore? That would be a real problem, Tony wasn't sure he knew how to do that.

Flirting would still be welcome, he just... needed time to get over Tony, so that it would be playful and familiar but not make him want to make it go somewhere.

"Well, you can always bribe me with lessons in design. You do things I've never even fathomed before. My world is so far behind yours in terms of technology that I'd almost expect to learn humans on your world have been to space more than once."

Oh is he ever going to be surprised.

Tony was muttering with a pleasantly confused smile, "Wait, what am I bribing you for...?" as Reeve spoke, but he didn't need a very good reason to share some knowledge with him. It did seem fair. Still, as he swung Reeve around on a sliding toe to transition their step into a more latin push and pull, hand sliding lower to guide his hips, Tony did his most convincing, "You've been to space?" It didn't last, Tony cracking up quickly and correcting, "Yeah, a handful of times," with a humility that was far less convincing. "You took being on another planet surprisingly well," he had to point out.

"Company?" Reeve suggests, and here he finally is a bit off balance. This is a dance he's not as familiar with, and his cheeks might be a TOUCH red now.

"I haven't. My friend Cid, Cloud, and I can't remember who the third was at the moment." Mostly because Tony's hand is getting into territory he doesn't know well. But his eyes are wide. "Multiple times. Wow, that's amazing. And, uh..."

Well, yeah, it's hard to transition here.

"The last place, I thought I was on a hidden island on my world. I had time to adjust."

If Tony had known it only took a few tango steps to finally wreak havoc on Reeve's unflappably steady diction, he could have already had him stuttering at a whisper in Spanish in his ear weeks ago. Tony grinned wolfishly at 'can't remember', and took the vocal pause as imperative prompt to slide his hold up Reeve's back again to turn him with the next switch of their hips, bringing his shoulders back against Tony's chest as Tony smoothed his guiding hand down his stomach. "You're a quick learner," he said again with a laugh, not entirely about Reeve's environmental adaptability. "Most of the planets around us are populated," he explained lightly, only then thinking to ask, "What about Asgard?" Maybe they didn't think of the distance as space where Reeve was from.

Is this dancing, or is it just public foreplay. Reeve's face is definitely a bit more scarlet than it was, being held like this. How could Tony do this so easily when he'd been so concerned about all eyes being on them before the dancing had started?

"What choice have I had?" he offers when Tony speaks of his learning. "You learn fast, or you're risking your life."

Asgard? He's never even heard of it.

"Where's Asgard? Is it a city on Earth? Or a planet?"

Maybe it wasn't dancing at whatever prep school had taught Reeve his manners and how to appropriately lead a respectable lady on the dance floor, but to Tony it wasn't any more damning than joining Reeve for a chaste waltz. The implications read the same either way. He slid a knee between Reeve's to try to lead him through the less familiar footwork, urging his weight up onto his toes so he was easy to twirl back into an intimate closed hold where Tony met him with a bright grin, head bowed close. "What do you mean, where's Asgard?" he challenged, uncomprehending. "Aren't you from Midgard?" Even if Reeve's planet didn't have their own Asgardian ambassador, there was no way that name came out of nowhere. Even Tony's humans had a slew of other names for Earth before they connected it to the ten realms. Or had Tony not heard him right? "It's--another dimension, kind of. Layered on Midgard. Nidavellir? Heven?" One of them had to mean something to Reeve.

That damn leg. Reeve curses and tries even harder to keep up with Tony, and when pulled in close he is breathless for another reason.

“I cannot fathom how people haven’t been jumping you left and right,” Reeve breathes out.

There is a question that leaves him distracted though.

“Midgar. One d. And the only dimensions I know of are these two I have been brought to. I thought... I thought the Earth everyone spoke of was just elsewhere in the universe.”

There is literally no connection to the places under the domain of Asgard.

That predatory smile returned; Reeve knew full well he was the only one stopping himself from doing any jumping, he could make that an offer any time. As for anyone else, well, not a lot of opportunities to show off the dance lessons in Temba. Tony would argue that his hard science skills were just as, if not more sexy, but even Reeve seemed to find them easier to resist, somehow. Maybe that felt too masturbatory. Some people found that shameful.

One letter difference still felt too coincidental to Tony, making him quickly switch spin Reeve again for a beat to consider. "I'm not so sure," he said. "Jon is from Earth, too, but a different Earth. Midgard is just another name for it, like Terra or Tellus. I doubt we're talking about different planets." That might have been a remarkable fact, considering the wide range of planets the Agrii had to chose from for their He Rows, but Earth was just...like that. It might not have been so obvious to someone who hadn't really been off of it. Switching again, Tony slid Reeve down into another low dip, forcing his balance around Tony's shoulders as he used his toes to push Reeve's leg out long for a proper tango bow, making him start to laugh again, sure the image was ridiculous and the pose unnatural for Reeve. Still, he continued, "I think it has something to do with the nexus point. The planet has something of a reputation for the most extraordinary--" He had drawn Reeve up again, ready to release him from this torture as their song ended, but found himself falling back too far until he was staring up at the charmless ceiling in his barren room in the tunnel.

Very. Different. Planets. After all, his world only has three continents at all. Really.

"I saw Cayde's map of Earth. The land masses are highly different from Gaia," Reeve counters.

But he doesn't get to say more, because there is a dip, and... Instead he's alone in his room. In his bed. And Reeve rolls onto his side and curls around Mini-C.

"That... didn't help anything," he whispered to the stuffed animal, which whapped him on the arm. "Yes, I know. Come on, let's go find something to do. I can't try and get back to sleep."

Not after that. He supposes for now he'll draw out Gaia as best he can.

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