in situ

[in_extremis]

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.

Comments

[in_extremis]

The language on the monitor had to be some kind of cipher, recognizable as a code as it scrolled by but not in any common written language from Earth or its surrounding planets. The only static element was a subtly blinking entry field, with no obvious input device. Tony followed after Cayde anxiously, watching where he stepped, and insisted, "See, you got it, no straight talking necessary." Not that Tony was going to try following up with another insult, the first one hadn't gotten Cayde any further out of the room. "What's wrong with a party? Who doesn't like a party? Food's great, women are beautiful, some of the press shots tomorrow aren't half bad. We'll have to get you something else to wear. Not that I don't appreciate a man in leather, but a guy should always have more options. How do you feel about a shawl lapel?"

[deal_me_in]

Well that's no fun. Cayde squinted at the computer screen. Probably just as well there was no keyboard for twitchy fingers to have access to.

"Too fancy. Too fake. I dunno. There's something unsettling about being in a room full of people in that sort of get-up. Bet the food's probably the tiny stuff that you're supposed to only eat while holding up a pinky."

He gave the screen a poke as he laughed at the suggestion of a suit. "A shawl? What, you mean like, those knit things with the yarn fringes?"

[in_extremis]

That was Tony's fancy, fake facade that Cayde was snubbing, and he pouted like Cayde had insulted his actual face. He worked hard on this face. "It's a fantasy," he corrected, one hand up with his pinky out like Cayde had said because that was exactly the kind of fantasy he was selling, but everyone had to enjoy the luxury on occasion. It made the explosions all the sweeter.

That he didn't even know what Tony meant by a shawl-- the screen responded to the poke, of course it was a touch screen, Tony wasn't an animal, with an illuminated array of the same symbols projected and shimmering around Cayde's wrist. Tony frowned at them, too, but continued the thought, "We're trying to elevate your style, Hot Stuff, not--" Well. A fringey scarf wouldn't make much different of an impact than Cayde's tattered cloak already did. "...settle," Tony decided was the most diplomatic phrase.

[deal_me_in]

Now that was interesting. Cayde blinked at the weird symbols now encircling his wrist, lifting his other hand to run his fingers through them as he tried to figure out how the computer was doing what it was. "Is this thing interactive or something?"

He doubted he'd ever worn a suit in his life. Maybe back way back when, but those memories were unreliable and near impossible to string together. "In case you didn't notice, my style is at the epitome of elevation. You wanna stick someone in a fancy coat, you get a Warlock."

[in_extremis]

"Of course it is," Tony replied, not about to let Cayde insult both his face and his workspace. It wasn't all for show, some stuff around here actually worked. He raised his free hand to mirror Cayde's with the projection, tapping his fingers to demonstrate, as Cayde's other hand passed uselessly through the display. It didn't do much; the projected symbols went through several button states, reacting in different ways to different gestures, leaving a string of new gibberish in the entry field.

"I don't offer my services to wizards," Tony said primly, swinging both hands behind his back to clasp his wrist in a respectable posture that didn't suit him. "And I get the feeling there's still bug-juice on that."

[deal_me_in]

He was easily distracted by the fact that something was actually showing up on the screen after all. Looking over at Tony, he tried to figure out what exactly any of the weird symbol things did. He even gave his wrist a shake in testing, if mostly just to see how the projection kept with it. It wasn't too unlike watching some overly curious kid mess with your stuff. Inevitably Cayde tried tapping his other hand at the screen to see if he could get double strings of projections. That part was just neat, okay?

"Fair enough." A beat. "-also possible. But to be fair it's probably not the first nor the last of any sort of guts to get on me. So what's with the skylight?"

[in_extremis]

Shaking did seem to do something, too, making those symbols flicker through button states like they were trying to interpret what this gesture was supposed to mean, and a second projection was the reward for touching the screen again, but Tony only watched blandly, clearly uninterested in helping Cayde solve this puzzle. He didn't even want Cayde back here, he wasn't about to help him break into the one thing that seemed to have the decency to be locked behind a key.

He turned slightly to look up to the hole at the back of the cave at the question, not sure how Cayde expected him to answer that. He wasn't a geologist. "Air circulation," he posited with a shrug. A breeze from above sent a hiss of sand sliding into the opening in the cave, and Tony offered, "The vision of time is broad, but when you pass through it, time becomes a narrow door."

[deal_me_in]

Clearly it only meant that Cayde had more buttons to push. He stopped shaking his hand at random and made more deliberate motions. If he didn't have glowy strands of a projected interface wreathing bracelets around his wrists he'd probably look crazy, or like he was trying to pull off a very bad rendition of a dance.

"Air's good. This place'd probably reek without it." He began to wander towards it, still absently twisting his wrist this way and that although only half paying attention to whether it even reached as far as that. Was that sand? Where was this supposed to be?

"Huh. That's a good one," he mused, considering Tony's words, standing beneath the opening. Probably measuring the distance. "So would you say it's an exit?"

[in_extremis]

It may have been less frenetic, but it was still pretty random; the input field didn't seem moved by what symbols Cayde was offering it. The interface didn't travel very far, stretching with an interference glitch before completely snapping off of their place around Cayde's wrists, the projection going dark and the text on the monitor continuing its uninterrupted scrolling. Tony continued to follow anxiously, still keeping careful distance but watching Cayde closely and stopping a few feet short, hands still behind his back.

The theory seemed to surprise him slightly, not something he had thought about despite the Herbert quote. Sure, it was definitely better up there, but the cave would still be here. Besides-- "You can fly," Tony acknowledged. There wasn't much Cayde could say to change his mind on that language yet. "Wait," he said, finally stepping close enough and bringing the horrid lump he worried between them, raising it with a nod looking down to Cayde's hands for him to take it with him. "Godspeed," Tony encouraged then.

[deal_me_in]

He was almost disappointed when the symbols vanished, not that'd he had been getting anywhere with them. Although he seemed to ignore Tony's nervous hovering it wasn't lost on him. What did a man like this have to hide? Having uninvited guests drop in must be torture.

"Jump," the Exo corrected, almost out of reflex. He turned as Tony spoke up again, finally trying to actually see whatever it was that the man seemed to be continously stressing over. He reached out to take it carefully, arching a brow at the other.

[in_extremis]

Tony didn't have an explanation for him; if it was a rational impulse, he probably wouldn't have done it at all. The thing was a scarred and mottled muscle, slick with a viscous fluid that wasn't significantly texturally distinct from the beetle guts, smearing dark strands over Cayde's gloves as he took it. It had to have come from Tony's chest where the same stain darkened his shirt. "Uh--for the road?" he tried, then gave the Exo a shove to the arm. "Jump then, get out of here," he insisted, already feeling the creep of the cold as Cayde accepted the gruesome gift.

[deal_me_in]

"....."

Cayde stared at the thing he'd been handed, amber light filling the space in his mouth as he opened it while his head debated on how the hell he was supposed to react to an actual heart in his hand.

It was creepy, it was wrong in all sorts of ways, and it was just damn gross. But maybe that's what friends do, share things no matter how gross. Hearts were a new one to him, however. Or was this some disturbing way to further confess something?

"I. Have so many questions," he ended up saying, which was marginally better than 'I'm not really hungry.' Nevertheless, he took care in holding the muscle with the passing thought of whether or not he should be seeking out a pulse somewhere.

The shove made him budge a step, but he continued to look at Tony. But there was some finality to the insistence the other displayed, and Cayde decided he didn't much like these crazy dreamscapes. A person's secrets shouldn't be left to chance for others to find them out. He reached out with his free hand, resting it on Tony's shoulder with a brief squeeze.

"We're gonna need that bar sooner than I thought," he observed as he stepped back, glancing from the man to his parting gift, and then up to the yawning opening and the blue beyond. Before he could have second thoughts, he propelled himself up in one impressive leap, and then another in midair, and once more for good measure to carry him clear.