revivalproject | delivery

Entry tags:

delivery

WHO: Tony Stark, Cloud Strife, technically open if you want to hang
WHERE: The forge? I don't know the structure of this post eludes me, it might be just network, I might just be setting up a bunch of interactions for Cloud to have with everyone else like a benevolent god
WHAT: Tony's been making things and has packages for Reeve, Tommy, Sansa and Jon, and he's not doing all of that walking himself.
WARNINGS: It is genuinely not my fault that all of Tony's posts are horny and you should just expect it now.

a text to Cloud

hey

where are you?

you want a job, right?

Come to the forge.

Outside of the forge, sitting in front of the closed door very pointedly, were five lumpy bundles, the wrapping of these clearly not Tony's strong suit. One of them seemed to be just in a big leaf. They were all labled with thin tags of impressed aluminum tied or just placed on top for Cloud to figure out where they were supposed to go with just a name-- the rest, like who any of these people were and where to find them, was Cloud's job to figure out, apparently.

At least one of them should have been pretty easy.

C L O U D
It was...a chocobo? Or how Tony remembered a chocobo looking from the glance at it in Reeve's memory. Small, grey and surprisingly heavy, it wound up to go bouncing away on weirdly articulated legs. Did Tony think he was paying Cloud?

R E E V E
It's a head.
This might be what Tony thought a cat skull looked like. It wasn't much like the design he had left for Mini-C's skeletal structure in Reeve's sketchbook, he obviously had some time, and the obsessive insomnia turned to 11 after the sleep glut and nowhere to pour his creative energy, to take a more detailed turn, and he would have used the energy to make more of the structure but they were still tight on materials. What he did make was a few servos, dangling from the skull shape like a disembodied nerve system, and a prototype pair of hands tucked safely into the dome, too delicate to be very useful to Mini, but responding to their programming housed in the skull. The systems were done, was the point.

T O M M Y
Was this what he meant by hydroponics? It wasn't like Tony had managed to miss that bit of drama on the network. It wasn't assembled, a bunch of disparate pieces that didn't come with instructions, but a note that only read 'you need a tube'.

S A N S A
This bundle had a pair of brass combs in it, stamped, much like the labels on the packages, with roses. If Sansa hadn't figured out how to keep her hair from being a mess, maybe this would be a reminder.

J O N
A very tiny little knot of a rag, about as big as the label that sat under it, and felt light enough to be empty.
It seemed to only contain a gold chain.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( Sansa sits up too, adjusting her dressing gown back to modest since this clearly isn't going in the direction it was before. )

My body is lonely, that's all. I'm tired of being worshipped by everyone all the time. Tyrion used to do it and now you're doing it. Terrible things happened to me back home - things that no woman should endure - and I survived them with my mind intact. It doesn't mean I want to be a marble edifice to be prayed at. You're kind to me. I mean no disrespect. It's just that clearly you don't see me in that way and you see me in this way instead.

[Tony hadn't considered that could be a problem, and he's clearly working through the idea carefully as he chews his lip, staring at Sansa with his arm balanced on his knee.]

I guess I don't. You've kept me at a certain distance--and you're married, I get that, that's..normal, but the way you did it maybe felt like a velvet rope, look but don't touch. Steve does something like that, too, maybe you get it; he's perfect in every way and commands your attention just being in the room, but you'll never be on his level. It didn't occur to me that that was lonely.

When I show a man my body half naked, I sort of expect he might want to show me his in kind. Or touch mine. It makes me think I've done something wrong and perhaps I have, considering I know that Tyrion's alive back home. We don't have a marriage back home, though, so only I would have the memory of it, and he couldn't marry me anyway. Politically complicated.

Perhaps I did give the impression I'm untouchable. I'm not, but I think your...desires probably lay elsewhere.

Of course I do.

[He didn't think that would be something he has to say, but she's still talking while Tony bites his lip around a grin that fades as she continues.]

You didn't do anything wrong. Maybe--maybe you did, maybe I did, doesn't matter. I don't think wanting to be touched and feel desirable makes you a bad wife. I haven't known you to be impulsive, but sometimes you do remind me that you really are younger than you feel.

[Like now, and not just because she doesn't really know what nudes are.]

From someone who is impulsive and has put his dick plenty of regretful places, let me tell you--it's not not worth it. [Laugh, okay, serious.] It would break my heart if I ended up being the one you hated, though. I can't take that right now, mama.

I suppose you’re right. It was a stupid thing for me to offer it in the first place when it could affect a friendship. There’s no one else who ever showed interest so I thought I ought to try.

( Sansa does laugh a little and hopes she’s a good enough actress that it doesn’t seem forced. The last thing she wants is making someone else feel stupid in all of this. )

I deserve everything I want except the thing that I want. I think that is what we call irony. I think it best that perhaps...perhaps that we put this behind us and that I no longer look at you as someone I desire. Unless I’m misreading you, that’s what you want as well?

I'm having a very hard time believing that's true.

[Tony does kind of seek her out so maybe she doesn't interact much with anyone else if they're not doing the same, he doesn't really know. It does add a new layer of concern, though.]

Not everyone who shows interest is worth your time. Is that the only reason? Listen, I'm--I haven't been dishonest with you, if that's what you mean. But I'm not some medieval knight, either.

I don't want a knight. Knights and princes are, for the most part, monsters beneath their helms. I don't want that. I want someone that is transparent about who he is and what he wants. I've never had a man on my own terms, Tony. I've had marriages. I've been given to one man after the other.

Choice is a luxury if you've never had it. Would I remarry someday? Possibly. I'm not looking for it now, though.

[Maybe he is more of a knight that he realized, when Sansa puts it that way. Tony definitely hasn't been that kind of transparent with anyone, ever, if he can help it, and it hasn't left Sansa with much nice to say about him other than he was clearly interested in her attention.]

Tell me your terms then, Mrs. Stark. Maybe we can come to an agreement.

( Sansa isn't one to be crude, normally, but she's going to have to be incredibly direct about this if she doesn't want flowery speeches about how she's a paragon of womanhood. )

I want you to fuck me, Mr. Stark. More than once, preferably. Is that clear enough?

Very strong negotiation.

[So he's clearly heard her perfectly well, and he's laughing in surprise at the language, but still:]

Run that by me one more time. Maybe with some specifics, you know, I appreciate the details.

[How much more of that foul mouth has she been hiding from him?]

I know you know how to fuck a woman, Tony Stark. If you don't, we have bigger problems than my being an exalted queen on a pedestal. That might work, actually, if you want to keep that up. You can kneel all you like. I can figure out what to do with you.

( Sansa's cheeks color a little because she's never actually done this as confident as she's trying to come across. )

Tomorrow afternoon, no one will be here. He'll be out checking the perimeter, Daenerys will have the baby. It will be just me for hours. That's your chance.

I'm not asking for instructions--

[He's laughing again, both at her saying 'fuck' out loud twice now, but the indignance when she was the one trying to phonesex him in the first place. What did she think he was going to do from here? She had been plenty critical of what he had to say. But he's pretty sure he gets the picture, letting his tongue peek out of the corner of his mouth where he's tried unsuccessfully to hide his grin behind his hand.]

Little risky, isn't it?

[He doesn't make this sound like a drawback.]

If your boyfriend kills me, you're obligated to honour me by telling everyone exactly what I died for.

If you had an actual bed, we could be together right now but I don't know that there's even room for me on what you consider a suitable sleeping arrangement.

And yes. If he kills you, I'll tell everyone you died while I had your cock in my mouth. Both an ignoble and noble death at once.

I have another redhead friend, goes by the name 'Black Widow', do you know what that means? Do you have those? I can't think of a better way of going out.

[He drops back again into his questionable bed, casting a glance up around his head, but doesn't really want to think about having anyone else in it. Sansa will have to be right about that one.]

No need to limit ourselves to beds. Did you ever fuck on your throne? That's what it's for, right?

Black Widows kill their husbands one after the other. I know one, actually, though she's not alive any longer.

( Sansa settles back on her own bed, which is well big enough for two people because she doesn't live like a heathen in spite of Temba's broken-down state. She laughs when he mentions fucking on her throne. )

Haven't sat on it long enough to have the opportunity. No fucking for me in Westeros anyway. I'm not sharing my power with anyone who gets his just because he puts a baby in my belly. The second they can put a man on that throne, they will, Stark or no Stark. I don't intend to let them.

( Sansa bites her lip a bit and tries to maintain the aura of being in control. He doesn't have to know her knees are shaking if her hand isn't. )

Sex is power where I come from and women have none of it unless they're whores. I'm not looking for a power exchange. I'd like to be on equal footing for once. Speaking of equal footing - give me your details. I gave mine.

What? [Like he's scandalized this wasn't the first thing she did when she got it.] That's how I break in all of the new cars.

[She couldn't possibly have something sad to say about cars, but Sansa is remarkably talented there. Maybe talking isn't a great idea.]

I wouldn't try to usurp you, though, you sit right where you belong. We can find out tomorrow how long you could stay composed while I take my time devouring you.

( The day comes and goes and so does tomorrow afternoon, which goes better than Sansa expects. The physical part, at least, isn’t complicated at all. She lays flat on her back, still trying to catch her breath. )

I’ve not done that in six moons, you know. I think I was a bit out of practice.

Me neither.

[This is not strictly true, but Sansa didn't have to be wondering where Tony was finding women in this city to indulge himself with, and might reasonably explain why he lingered so close, sitting up still between her thighs where he could continue to lavish his attention with his lips to her knee and hands on her hips. He would peel himself away when he has finished all that catching up he has to do, honest. He tips his head against her leg to watch the slowing of her breathing with a smile.]

Are we out of time?

You're likely a liar and no, we're not out of time. Like I said, the house is ours the entire afternoon.

( Sansa doesn't mind where he is right now even if she's reasonably sure they're finished for now and she reaches down to ruffle Tony's hair affectionately. )

I've never done it this way before. Without...I don't want to say without feelings, we care about each other, but without being married.

[The ruffle makes him chuckle, then sigh happily, relaxing against her thigh hugged to his chest to take this time he's been promised.]

We don't really do that anymore. In the--I guess I don't actually know what your future is like, but your world sounds a lot like my past, and we got over the waiting-until-marriage thing. At least, where I'm from, mostly. It's complicated.

[What the hell is he trying to say?]

I don't know if I would be able to marry someone unless I knew this was going to work. I know I'm good at talking, but I don't know how to say a lot, so...

[He finally stills, just his fingers tapping restlessly against her leg, not sure if she could hear the apology in them.]

You know you can talk to me, don't you? It didn't really change because this happened. I hope not, anyway, because that wasn't my intention.

( By this she supposes he must mean the bedding part of it and she agrees - if a man isn't good here, why should she marry him? She doesn't have to marry anyone anymore unless she just wants to and right now she doesn't want to. )

Or is it that you're so overwhelmed by getting to finally have me that you're tongue-tied?

[That's the opposite of what he's trying to say, so maybe she has a point.]

Little worn out, maybe.

[He grins and resumes his idle petting up her thigh, trying to shrug off what is making him hard to understand.]

I fuck up, constantly, and that's on me, because I don't trust--I could have just trusted you yesterday to know what you wanted, and instead you were getting pissed at me--I don't feel like I can't tell you anything right now, though. Is that--maybe that's just me. You're always really open with me, aren't you?

I am open with you, even when it would be more proper for a lady of my status to not be so open with her words. There's not anyone else I would let see me naked and while you don't know everything that's happened to me, you've seen enough of my body today to make some educated guesses.

( Sansa shifts a bit and tucks a pillow behind her so that she doesn't have to move her legs but has a little more reach with her hands. She combs her fingers through his hair, massages his scalp a bit. )

You trust me, don't you? I trust you with me. Perhaps you ought to just entrust yourself to me until you think you can handle it again, Tony. Everyone ought to have a place where they don't have to worry about themselves.

[He wants to ask what he did to deserve that openness, but doesn't really want to know the answer because he is sure he would hate himself for it even if Sansa didn't realize it. It wasn't like he wouldn't do it again. The scars were telling, not surprising, and weren't anything he hadn't seen before either, but not a kind of familiarity that would stop him from being heartsick later over not being able to polish them away, making him raise his eyebrows apologetically when she offers her trust.

He slides out of his hug around her leg to fold himself forward and press his face against her chest, tucking his arms under her around the pillow instead.]

I don't know if I'll ever be able to handle it, mama, that's a big offer. Letting me take care of you means a lot, though, it helps. You might be the bravest one of all of us, you know that?

You're doing the thing again, Tony, the thing where I'm untouchable. I'm not. I'm just a little bird here, I'm not a queen.

( Sansa combs through his hair a little longer before moving her hands to rub at his neck and shoulders a little. If he's struggling with something, she ought to try and do something to ease it even if she can't do that emotionally. )

I've had my mouth all over you. I think that means you can call me Sansa, if you want.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject