He spots Tony on his way to where his group is already meeting up to leave the shuttle bay and Jon stops short, unable to recall when precisely he has last seen the other man, but having a painfully vivid memory of how their last conversation went. It's a memory that brings back that unpleasant sting in his chest.
But Steve is right. And so are Billy and Tommy. Jon should try to talk to Tony. Before it's too late. Before either of them vanishes the same way Bucky has vanished from their ship. He can't see himself going through with Tommy's advice, but some clarity... That would be nice to have, right? Not that they have the time such a conversation would require about now, nor the relative privacy. Though Jon can at least find out whether or not Tony would even be willing to talk.
And so Jon approaches Tony cautiously, his hands carrying his small alien weapon awkwardly, almost as if to make sure he can't reach out with them. He comes to a stop several meters away before addressing the other man. "Tony?"
By then, it was clear to Tony that Reeve wasn't talking to him, either, and he had forlornly watched Cal venture off to try to find further access points, sure that he wouldn't have even gotten this far without the extra help. The systems were all there, Tony could see them, but at best he seemed to be able to compile lists and suck the air out of a room, which felt like a personal attack. It wasn't obvious to him yet what the reason was, but currently, as he lingered by the control panel, absently stripping a wire and with three more liberated from under the interface looped into the palm of his gauntlet (more yet connected to the smaller glove sitting, abandoned some time ago, on the screen of the console and waiting for Tony to decide he was just using the wrong hand again, obviously), the working theory was that these shivers that had onset about the time they had first spotted the ship were probably an awful distraction. Over the gold nanonetwork suit connecting his boots and gauntlet together, he wore the red, deep-sleeved robe he had been gifted on the beach for turning up yet again to a house that was all out of that alcohol, sorry, no really, to try to alleviate the problem, knowing entirely logically that he was sweating, too, and would throw up on this machine soon, so it didn't really matter what he was wearing, the cold was in the blood.
The approach wasn't a surprise, and Tony was distantly aware of the movement throughout the shuttle bay, occasionally glancing up to watch the groups form and listen from a distance what the plans were and what to watch for as they broke off to head further into the ship. They didn't all have maps on them, that was the first problem, Tony had to figure out how to push that to their devices...He didn't expect the voice he heard from the approaching person to be Jon's. He turned slowly, eyeing Jon cautiously, then more quickly to put his shoulder in Jon's direction as he spotted the gun held in front of him, not about the argue that he didn't absolutely deserve to be shot, but it was kind of a bad time to lose some vital organ capabilities if he was going to be of any use to this team. Eyes still on the weapon, he said, "You're going, then," not quite a question, and too guarded to be imploring, but a distinct thread of sick, longing fear through the already potent cocktail Tony was working with between the looming death feeling of this detox, the encroaching awareness that he was worthless at this post, the more general dread for the group at large and the gun that Jon approached him with. At least his glasses didn't appear to be broken anymore.
"Y-yeah-" Jon begins, aware of the posture Tony is taking and the wary look at the weapon in his hands. There's also a very distinctive dread radiating off of Tony. It's difficult for Jon to pick apart at that time, mostly because he doesn't like feeding off of Tony's fear.
He swallows and looks down at the weapon himself before tilting it to the side, both to show it to Tony and to show that he's not going to use it against the other man. "D-don't want to carry it in my pocket. It's too big. A-and... I'd rather not have it go off... uncontrolled." Oh, he's babbling, isn't he. Great. He takes a deep breath, then looks up. At least as far as he dares to. Which allows him to look at Tony's chin. Right. He misses that chin as well.
Concentrate!
"Listen, I... I-" Yes, he's already off to a good start. He tries again. "If- If I... If I come back from this. If neither of us dies or- Or... or vanishes...." Now that's a great setup. Jon decides to press through while he finds himself talking. "I want to talk." There. That's it. "I want to talk if- If you want to talk. We can talk. When this is over. When... When we're still here."
The day has been awkward to say the last. He's forced to work in close quarters with Tony. People he cares about and is concerned for have wandered off into the ship into an unknown situation. He's helping baby-sit. And Mini almost got himself stuck in a coolant conduit because he IGNORED Reeve saying he wouldn't fit.
All in all it's a very weird day while Reeve's arms deep in a control panel, inspecting wiring linked up to some of the subsystems at the control panel.
And when he realizes what he's looking at with a certain cluster of wiring and motherboards and other items... Well, the curse escapes him well before he can stop it.
"Jenova's tits, that's... Could it really be possible?"
That was one way to break the tension. Reeve hadn't been particularly personable while they stepped around each other, leaving Tony to talk mostly to the control panel as he tried to coax more information out of it, the communication network wired back into his gauntlet and his pile of tools around their feet. He raised his eyebrows as Reeve finally shared his thoughts, dramatically placing a delicate hand over James' ear even though Reeve couldn't see either of them from down there, then hitched the baby in the sling up closer to his shoulder to crouch down next to Reeve's prone figure.
"Is that what you sound like when you've been electrocuted?" he asked, and peered into the console to try to get a read on the miracle Reeve had discovered. "I'm not usually that coherent. Not thinking about tits, anyway. I know, it's hard to imagine that could happen."
"That's a new one," Raphael mutters as he glances over from one of the boxes he's been digging through. "Sounds like someone's had an epiphany." Donatello usually has that tone whenever he's made some important discovery, however not so colorfully. He tended to reference Darwin's beard a lot.
He wanders over to join Tony over by where Reeve looks like he's half absorbed by machinery, wiggling a finger at the baby the former totes.
Negative. Maybe try next door. If you would like to make an appointment, this office can handle inquiries on surly attitudes, general disarray, and half remembered nursery rhymes.
Damn. Wrong number. Was was really hoping for the ramen shop. What's the wait time on appointments? I might have a minor inquiry regarding general disarray but otherwise patch me on through to tech support.
It's fine and all getting ship control down and everything, but aside from box diving, Raphael's tired of being stuck twiddling his thumbs.
"So can we do something with all this crap we found? There's gotta be something we can use to upgrade some of these ships. We've got enemy ships out there, right? What's keeping us from sneaking over and paying 'em a visit?"
By then, Tony was sitting on the console with his bricked phone in his lap, head in his hand but James away for a nap as any excitement in the shuttle bay turned to quiet tension. The length of his robe pooled over most of the screens, but Tony didn't seem too bothered about actually seeing any of them. Carding through every system to try to find which one could have interfered with their communications was tedious, but at least Tony literally do it with his eyes closed instead of trying to squint around the flaring of the lights at the edges of his vision. Thus, looking like some kind of yogi perched in his gold sheath on top of the computers that Reeve had gutted, he provided absently, "We don't know that they're enemy ships."
He did get that it didn't feel like they were doing much. "Would like to know, though." He cracked one eye open, glancing carefully for anyone else that might be listening.
"Good point, that makes two of us." Raphael knows an opening when he sees one. He looks around in hopes of rallying some support as he pushes on.
"How about a recon mission? Our ships here don't have much by way of, well, anything, but ships I've been on before have like, stealth capabilities. Could we potentially rig up something like that? There's all these parts and stuff sitting in those boxes."
It was perpetually dark through the portal of the shuttlebay, distant stars slowly crossing the opening winking vainly through the force fields, but in the long hours as people in the room dropped off in exhaustion from the spiking anxiety, the waiting, and the effort to transform the Starduck into their hunting machine, it began to feel a lot like night. It didn't seem like James had much taste for modern music, but after the third attempt at remembering some Rolling Stones at him, the baby seemed to pick up what Tony was trying to lay down and at least seemed to accept being in his crib, leaving Tony wandering out of the ship still humming as he approached the beckoning console. He could already see from a distance that his gauntlets and boots that had been left there, among the still scattered pile of tools and nails from his otherwise occupied belt, were going to need to charge before he could do anything else with them, interrupting his tune with a sharp sigh as he picked one up with disgust then searched for the wiring he was sure he had brought out here with them. Plugging in here should have been just as effective as in the cockpit of his ship. In the meantime, it was back to cycling between the sensors to check on the farflung teams and recompiling the comms links. Nobody was going to be singing him to sleep any time soon. "Hey," he murmured, giving a nudge to the leg sticking out of his computer. "Did you pass out in there?"
Leave it to Tony to interrupt work. Because that was literally what Tony was doing. For the last little while Reeve had mostly been on his own, given Toy was trying to get the little one to bed. Which meant he had sunk deeper into his own repairs, clearly intent on spending the night trying to see if there was any way he could help Tony get things back up and running any faster. And with everyone else busy elsewhere, Reeve wanted a break from the shuttle retrofitting.
Basically, that meant that there was a situation brewing, one created when Tony nudged Reeve's leg. There was a disproportionate yowl of pain from the contact than any nudging would explain. Mostly because Reeve had flinched and accidentally brushed against a live wire. Not a high power one, just enough for him to shock himself and the tip of his ring finger to be smarting.
So of course he did the intelligent thing that all good engineers did when they got hurt. He popped the digit in his mouth and tried to squirm out from under the console.
"Whaf waf faf foh?" he asked, finger in his mouth.
The yowl made Tony flinch away in turn, suddenly much more awake and trying to calculate how hard he must have kicked Reeve in his sleepy distraction until Reeve had wiggled his way out enough to display the classic symptoms of Touched The Wrong Thing. With the smallest sympathetic hiss, Tony crouched next to him to make sure they didn't have to wake up Billy for some burn treatment, feeling his way up Reeve's arm as he sat up to search for a grounding point. Despite this, Tony irritably replied, "You're in my way down there," flicking his free hand to indicate half of Reeve's body splayed all over where Tony was trying to walk, "Some of us are trying to work."
The first rumble of shots making impact with the ship's shields nearly has Raphael jump out of his shell.
"What the heck was that?!" he sputters, but sleep hadn't been to clingy in the first place and with the sound of more things impacting the ship, the turtle's dashing over towards the consoles.
"I guess if we needed any more proof those were the bad guys..." Yeah, even with that rude awakening he can still be sarcastic. However it's the next shot that has him hold his tongue for further comment as the lights and panels start to flicker and screens here and there fizz.
By the time Raphael made it to the console, Tony was on his feet and still blinking blearily, but the screens were flicking through sensors and damage reports as he searched for a good answer for the turtle. It wasn't as reassuring as he was hoping to get the confirmation that this rumbling noise wasn't just in his head. "We have shields, we'll be fine..." Tony started muttering, not completely confident in these alien systems, especially since it obviously hadn't done the Agrii a lot of good, but it was what they had to rely on for now. "Could you get me some water--?"
That shockwave that seemed to disregard the shields entirely had Tony wincing, then bowing over with his teeth grit and hands clasped behind his head, trying to keep his brain from escaping down his spinal chord. That wasn't good. Every system he was wired into seemed to be seizing across his cranium, a cascade failure that dominoed in reverse then left his limbs sparking with their brownian functionality sending jolts and sizzles through his nervous system. "Yeah, that's a problem," he grit out, trying to push his shoulders back and get control of his console again, but barely able to see through the glitching static of the failures. "I can't see the source of the damage, but she's got some severe internal hemorrhaging that needs to be dealt with," he reported, then licked his lips and wiped his hand through the blood across his mouth, then the other, not sure how long his nose had been doing that but no time for it now. He couldn't see. Smearing red across the screens, he started tapping and scrolling through glitching menus instead of trying to get the network to respond through Extremis, squinting through the ache in his whole body now and the frustratingly slow interface process. "Hull seems to be intact. We're venting oxygen, and we'll lose gravitational stability in under a minute, though. Seatbelts still work--where are the kids? Raphael?"
Raphael drops a firm hand over the man's shoulder to help steady him, grimacing at all the blood that's just getting spread everywhere. Gross, sure, but there are greater concerns.
"Dude, I'm right here. You okay? Do we needa pack people into the ships? The kids should be with Billy, right? I'll go check-"
( lady will yowl for your attention to the door when she brings her queen home, ok, contactless delivery means nothing for direwolves so she's coming in. this servers as a reminder to me that sansa is incapacitated but if anyone wants to deal with the world's worst patient, please tag her. )
Sansa had only just started to look through the files in Hero Control enough to see that the Agrii and the Atroma were at least acquainted to one another if not fully related or in league together and she'd tried to find the files on those of them who had been both places. Just when she thinks she has enough to go back and pass word along to the defense team while the soldier continued to work, she slips out of the room and starts heading back down the corridor.
She isn't anticipating being thrown to the floor and when she comes to, it feels as though her entire body is blossoming in pain. She touches her fingertips to her temple and comes away with blood. She's had worse. She's had much worse. She knows she can stand and get through with what she needs to do before going back.
Sitting is harder than she thinks and she doesn't manage to do it, just manages to pull herself closer against the wall instead. When she thinks she'll just lay down and try again later, she hears the heavy paws of what can only be Lady and when the direwolf comes up close, she yowls for Sansa to see if she's awake.
"I'm awake, Lady, by the Old Gods and the New. You fuss worse than my old septa," she manages, curling her fingers in Lady's thick coat. "I wouldn't leave you. I just can't exactly stand up right now." Sansa thinks her ankle might be twisted so she decides it'll be best if she tries to lean on Lady and crawls down the corridor to where the ship docked. When she manages to get there, she bangs on the door and hopes none of the fields go up or down while she's waiting there; she doesn't want to know what's going to happen if something else goes wrong.
"Someone let me in before Lady destroys the door," she says, just managing to get her voice louder than Lady for a moment. "And you! Quiet! If you want me rescued, you have to make sure you're quiet enough that they can hear me. We don't all speak wolf."
The one that opens the door probably isn't the one that is expected. But come on, he's a go-getter little doll, and with a stick from one of the boxes between his hands, he's damn well useful. It takes some pushing and shoving and pulling, but soon Mini as pushed the stick up in JUST the right away against the wall to hit the door release button.
They didn't have a whole lot of people to spare to begin with, but Raphael's used to working with small teams, and for infiltration, smaller numbers are in his opinion better, so long as they're quick and quiet about it.
Of course there's a lot of things he hasn't really considered, perhaps because he's taken for granted a lot of things from previous space trips. Hopefully nothing blows up in their face here. Checking for the umpteenth time to make sure their stealth mode is activated, although having no real way to be sure it's working, he brings the Starduck in around and closer towards the nearest of the two enemy ships.
"...man I shoulda pushed for weapons," he mutters under his breath, glancing every now and then to where he'd have to activate shields, just in case the need comes.
"All right, we're coming up on our target. Let's hope no one looks out the window." Or notices them trying to dock.
Rayla was curious, of course, but also ready. Having found something in that box that was a good enough blade to use for this sort of thing, she waited for them to dock.
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revivalproject2020-08-05 02:48 pm
Before Team Rescue departs - CLOSED to Tony
But Steve is right. And so are Billy and Tommy. Jon should try to talk to Tony. Before it's too late. Before either of them vanishes the same way Bucky has vanished from their ship. He can't see himself going through with Tommy's advice, but some clarity... That would be nice to have, right? Not that they have the time such a conversation would require about now, nor the relative privacy. Though Jon can at least find out whether or not Tony would even be willing to talk.
And so Jon approaches Tony cautiously, his hands carrying his small alien weapon awkwardly, almost as if to make sure he can't reach out with them. He comes to a stop several meters away before addressing the other man. "Tony?"
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The approach wasn't a surprise, and Tony was distantly aware of the movement throughout the shuttle bay, occasionally glancing up to watch the groups form and listen from a distance what the plans were and what to watch for as they broke off to head further into the ship. They didn't all have maps on them, that was the first problem, Tony had to figure out how to push that to their devices...He didn't expect the voice he heard from the approaching person to be Jon's. He turned slowly, eyeing Jon cautiously, then more quickly to put his shoulder in Jon's direction as he spotted the gun held in front of him, not about the argue that he didn't absolutely deserve to be shot, but it was kind of a bad time to lose some vital organ capabilities if he was going to be of any use to this team. Eyes still on the weapon, he said, "You're going, then," not quite a question, and too guarded to be imploring, but a distinct thread of sick, longing fear through the already potent cocktail Tony was working with between the looming death feeling of this detox, the encroaching awareness that he was worthless at this post, the more general dread for the group at large and the gun that Jon approached him with. At least his glasses didn't appear to be broken anymore.
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He swallows and looks down at the weapon himself before tilting it to the side, both to show it to Tony and to show that he's not going to use it against the other man. "D-don't want to carry it in my pocket. It's too big. A-and... I'd rather not have it go off... uncontrolled." Oh, he's babbling, isn't he. Great. He takes a deep breath, then looks up. At least as far as he dares to. Which allows him to look at Tony's chin. Right. He misses that chin as well.
Concentrate!
"Listen, I... I-" Yes, he's already off to a good start. He tries again. "If- If I... If I come back from this. If neither of us dies or- Or... or vanishes...." Now that's a great setup. Jon decides to press through while he finds himself talking. "I want to talk." There. That's it. "I want to talk if- If you want to talk. We can talk. When this is over. When... When we're still here."
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Control The Horizontal and the Vertical - Defender Choice Log
All in all it's a very weird day while Reeve's arms deep in a control panel, inspecting wiring linked up to some of the subsystems at the control panel.
And when he realizes what he's looking at with a certain cluster of wiring and motherboards and other items... Well, the curse escapes him well before he can stop it.
"Jenova's tits, that's... Could it really be possible?"
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"Is that what you sound like when you've been electrocuted?" he asked, and peered into the console to try to get a read on the miracle Reeve had discovered. "I'm not usually that coherent. Not thinking about tits, anyway. I know, it's hard to imagine that could happen."
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He wanders over to join Tony over by where Reeve looks like he's half absorbed by machinery, wiggling a finger at the baby the former totes.
"What'cha got? You find us some weapons systems?"
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[Voice] (look, grumpy tech support is here!)
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Re: [Voice] Oh joy!
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SO ABOUT THOSE SHIP UPGRADES
"So can we do something with all this crap we found? There's gotta be something we can use to upgrade some of these ships. We've got enemy ships out there, right? What's keeping us from sneaking over and paying 'em a visit?"
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He did get that it didn't feel like they were doing much. "Would like to know, though." He cracked one eye open, glancing carefully for anyone else that might be listening.
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"How about a recon mission? Our ships here don't have much by way of, well, anything, but ships I've been on before have like, stealth capabilities. Could we potentially rig up something like that? There's all these parts and stuff sitting in those boxes."
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For any insomniac Defenders, Reeve and Tony chillin' and buildin'
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Basically, that meant that there was a situation brewing, one created when Tony nudged Reeve's leg. There was a disproportionate yowl of pain from the contact than any nudging would explain. Mostly because Reeve had flinched and accidentally brushed against a live wire. Not a high power one, just enough for him to shock himself and the tip of his ring finger to be smarting.
So of course he did the intelligent thing that all good engineers did when they got hurt. He popped the digit in his mouth and tried to squirm out from under the console.
"Whaf waf faf foh?" he asked, finger in his mouth.
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[Voice] Day 2 - Crossposting to both Rescuers and Defense
--ryone all right? No-- -ure wh--s h--p---ing --
Ga Re -s down--
-ll she sa-- --Storm-
[voice] since no one else appreciates the boy
[LOUD feedback noise, then Tony's voice is cutting between the console and the broadcast speakers in the hall. Whatever he did, it didn't help.]
Cal? Buddy? Did you say storm? We're in space.
[Voice] hi dad
--ny! Did someth-- -it the ship? --atev-r knocked out the --stems, it's aff-ct--g Ga Re. I felt it -oo. --s like on Te-ba-
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Day 2 AAAH WE'RE UNDER ATTACK
"What the heck was that?!" he sputters, but sleep hadn't been to clingy in the first place and with the sound of more things impacting the ship, the turtle's dashing over towards the consoles.
"I guess if we needed any more proof those were the bad guys..." Yeah, even with that rude awakening he can still be sarcastic. However it's the next shot that has him hold his tongue for further comment as the lights and panels start to flicker and screens here and there fizz.
"Uh...that doesn't seem good."
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That shockwave that seemed to disregard the shields entirely had Tony wincing, then bowing over with his teeth grit and hands clasped behind his head, trying to keep his brain from escaping down his spinal chord. That wasn't good. Every system he was wired into seemed to be seizing across his cranium, a cascade failure that dominoed in reverse then left his limbs sparking with their brownian functionality sending jolts and sizzles through his nervous system. "Yeah, that's a problem," he grit out, trying to push his shoulders back and get control of his console again, but barely able to see through the glitching static of the failures. "I can't see the source of the damage, but she's got some severe internal hemorrhaging that needs to be dealt with," he reported, then licked his lips and wiped his hand through the blood across his mouth, then the other, not sure how long his nose had been doing that but no time for it now. He couldn't see. Smearing red across the screens, he started tapping and scrolling through glitching menus instead of trying to get the network to respond through Extremis, squinting through the ache in his whole body now and the frustratingly slow interface process. "Hull seems to be intact. We're venting oxygen, and we'll lose gravitational stability in under a minute, though. Seatbelts still work--where are the kids? Raphael?"
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Raphael drops a firm hand over the man's shoulder to help steady him, grimacing at all the blood that's just getting spread everywhere. Gross, sure, but there are greater concerns.
"Dude, I'm right here. You okay? Do we needa pack people into the ships? The kids should be with Billy, right? I'll go check-"
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day two, sansa gets dragged home from bad party by sensible direwolf
Sansa had only just started to look through the files in Hero Control enough to see that the Agrii and the Atroma were at least acquainted to one another if not fully related or in league together and she'd tried to find the files on those of them who had been both places. Just when she thinks she has enough to go back and pass word along to the defense team while the soldier continued to work, she slips out of the room and starts heading back down the corridor.
She isn't anticipating being thrown to the floor and when she comes to, it feels as though her entire body is blossoming in pain. She touches her fingertips to her temple and comes away with blood. She's had worse. She's had much worse. She knows she can stand and get through with what she needs to do before going back.
Sitting is harder than she thinks and she doesn't manage to do it, just manages to pull herself closer against the wall instead. When she thinks she'll just lay down and try again later, she hears the heavy paws of what can only be Lady and when the direwolf comes up close, she yowls for Sansa to see if she's awake.
"I'm awake, Lady, by the Old Gods and the New. You fuss worse than my old septa," she manages, curling her fingers in Lady's thick coat. "I wouldn't leave you. I just can't exactly stand up right now." Sansa thinks her ankle might be twisted so she decides it'll be best if she tries to lean on Lady and crawls down the corridor to where the ship docked. When she manages to get there, she bangs on the door and hopes none of the fields go up or down while she's waiting there; she doesn't want to know what's going to happen if something else goes wrong.
"Someone let me in before Lady destroys the door," she says, just managing to get her voice louder than Lady for a moment. "And you! Quiet! If you want me rescued, you have to make sure you're quiet enough that they can hear me. We don't all speak wolf."
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Stupid being only a foot and a half tall.
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Day 2 INFILTRATION TEAM are you sick of me yet
Of course there's a lot of things he hasn't really considered, perhaps because he's taken for granted a lot of things from previous space trips. Hopefully nothing blows up in their face here. Checking for the umpteenth time to make sure their stealth mode is activated, although having no real way to be sure it's working, he brings the Starduck in around and closer towards the nearest of the two enemy ships.
"...man I shoulda pushed for weapons," he mutters under his breath, glancing every now and then to where he'd have to activate shields, just in case the need comes.
"All right, we're coming up on our target. Let's hope no one looks out the window." Or notices them trying to dock.
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The waiting was the hard part.
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