revivalproject | neck of the woods

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neck of the woods

WHO: Tony and his new Graq friends. Open to other absolute morons.
WHERE: Graq homeworld
WHAT: Jungle adventures! Some animal wrangling, some spelunking, more mistakes, and a date.
WHEN: Shortly after getting all of the Graq home.
WARNINGS: I cannot promise all of these alien animals are going to be treated with dignity. Edit: I don't know what either of us expected, of course it is horny. Uh, not with the animals, the animals are fine.

a. The caverns [OTA! I have no plan for this, BYO Adventure]
One of the Graq had explained on the trip over how the satellites around their planet orbited in perfect alignment to create a solar eclipse every cycle, sheering through the light reliably every morning like the moon was late to set and met the sun coming up on the horizon. They didn't explain it quite that way, of course; at first, Tony though the Graq didn't know that a solar cycle happened on any other planets and was trying to explain what night was to him, which became frustrating enough for the alien to spit a hole into the ship floor between them. So, Tony's effortless charm didn't work in Graq language. While the Graq lacked the descriptive words to convey their message to Tony, when he finally saw the phenomenon occur he paused and went, "Oh," out loud, though his erstwhile planetary guide had long since tired of him. The great shadow of the moon passed over the planet, and with it the raucous chattering of the forest around him slowed and quieted to a very queer stillness, the nocturnal animals not yet awake and the diurnal ones holding their collective breath at this early evening. It made the sound that came from inside the cave just a few feet away from where Tony stood seem loud, and close.

b. The hills [For Cayde, but you are welcome to join]
There wasn't a perfect translation into any languages that Tony knew he might share with Cayde for the giant fowl on the planet, so when the Graq tried to describe them when asked what they were eating, what Tony said to Cayde was, "Big feather," with a shrug and raised lip. They lived on steep hills, one of the Graq very intently tried to explain despite Tony definitely not asking, because they built their nests into holes they dug into them, and because of this their eggs were incredibly hard to crack without Graq spit, so do not bother. Tony did not need this warning and, again, did not ask, but now he knew and was well prepared to announce, "Big feather egg," when they came upon what looked like shards of a hollowed rock at the foot of a craggy hill. Now he was starting to sound like one of them, he was integrating to the local culture in ways he did not appreciate. The nests, as described, dotted all the way up the hill, looking like steps built into the sheerest face of it, leaving the impression of a pyramid built into this less dense part of the jungle.

'Big feather' sounded like it was going to get Tony closer to the pillow he had hoped to find for Jon than the noodles he had hoped to get for Cayde, and upon spotting one of those birds, Tony was ready to accept that this planet was not going to produce either of these gifts for him. These people didn't yet seem to have their own bread, let alone noodle, and when the Graq had said 'big' they meant enormous. More of a sword than a feather. Not pillowy down, anyway. It went stalking across the steep hill expertly, long legs fully extended and navigating the angle with sharp claws digging in to the rock to balance its fat, bobbling body, head twitching and blinking stupidly like a chicken, only approximately the size of a dinosaur.

"I don't say this often," Tony started, and it already sounded like a lie, haughty with his chin raised as he tracked the unreasonable bird, "but I am confident I am the most beautiful thing on this planet." He definitely did say that more often than he deserved to, but in this case he had sound logic. Graq were ugly, these birds were ugly, based on this sample this whole planet's evolution tended toward squashy and wrong-sized. "Present company an ongoing consideration," he was willing to allow.

c. The water [For Jon, but you are still welcome]
This was an ideal environment for plenty of very ugly bugs and grubs. Frogs, generously. Insects, in general, were not hugely upsetting for Tony, with the distinct exception of anything cockroach-like, but he did prefer a more sterile, modern, less bug-centric experience, if it were up to him, and he was realizing that he had made the wrong choice. He could have been on a spaceship right now, in space, on a ship. With the exception of the unique mineral compound of the malleable stones, there wasn't much to Tony's taste on this primitive planet.

The locals, obviously, being local and made for this environment, loved it, and appreciated being returned safely despite the awkward introductions. With a few of their rescuers on the planet with them, the Graq decided it was an ideal time to celebrate the reunion of their families, and these strange, hairless bipeds that had made that happen for them. "They want us to join them at sunset," he had translated to the camp of He-Rows, "by the waterfall, they say is over there. Follow the river, can't miss it, it's water, it's not confusing. I don't think they're going to eat us, but don't quote me on that."

Bugs on any planet, it was a universal truth, got worse the closer it was to dusk. Tony crouched by the river as the sun went down, trying to remain curious about what this planet had to offer as he felt the waxy leaf of a vibrant lilypad in a cluster that didn't seem bothered by the meandering water, only to be smacked in the face by what he would assume to be a moth on Earth, and what he didn't want to think too hard about here. "This is a nightmare," he grumbled, wiping at his cheek to make sure it hadn't left anything behind, then glanced up at the distant sound of drumming music from the direction of what must have been this waterfall site. Fashionably late, as ever.

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The excitement comes as a bit of a surprise that leaves Jon flustered and at a loss of words while he follows Tony’s assessment and the conclusion he draws. “I, ah.... I knew I can go a long while without breathing, I suppose.” He offers a little reluctant, rubbing at his arms for some warmth and looking around for their things as well. “And I suppose you already know that..... That I can do breath.” That may be a rather simple way of putting it, but it’s not a lie either. “And please, don’t worry about the bruises. I heal quickly these days.” He adds with a little shrug and a soft smile in Tony’s direction.

Stumbling across some of their items as well, Jon raises a brow as he picks up his drenched shirt and sighs. “Next time we definitely need to come better prepared. We can’t put these on without letting them dry first.” Though his worry is more directed towards Tony. “Will you be alright?”

"Always," Tony replied automatically, not really listening. He had fished his communication device out of his pants pocket, and was investigating how it handled being soaked with dripping clothes draped over his arm and one shoe dangling from the other hand. These things seemed to be hearty, a little bath didn't appear to have made an impression on it. Jon's glasses were slightly less replaceable, and Tony spun on his heel to try to spot them, only spotting Jon again in the process. Split apart from him, the water plastering his hair down and the way he rubbed his arms made him look small, and Tony padded closer again not sure how to help except to point out, "There's a fire, come on, it'll be fine." Wet clothes were not the worst thing that could have happened. "Is that one mine?" he pointed to the shirt Jon had found, then shook out the clothes he carried, hoping maybe the glasses were tangled in them.

“It may be okay for you.” Jon replies, looking the shirt over before offering it to Tony and taking his shoe in return, reaching into the footwear to pull out a pair of socks, rolled together. He gives a small sigh and adds, starting to feel a bit self-conscious with his own words. “You’re not the one literally butt naked.” Some of the others might be there, after all. And the last thing Jon feels comfortable with is.... Well. That. Tony has seen him undressed before, and in much more compromising ways, so that’s different. It’s also a matter of trust.

Tapping his fingers against his shoe, Jon looks around some more, sounding almost as if talking to himself. “You can go, of course. I.... I will find the rest of our things. Need to find my other shoe... My glasses might still be in it.” And there is no way he is leaving this planet without them. Hopefully he doesn’t have to dive into the lake again to find them.

Edited (\o/) 2020-09-08 08:26 (UTC)

"And leave you out here, blind and naked in the dark, with whatever that thing in the lake is," Tony expanded for Jon helpfully, so they both knew how he had assessed Tony's priorities. That kind of took the fun out of the bottom of the lake falling off, and teasing Jon into some light exhibitionism. Raising his free hand in surrender to this personality defect that Jon kept seeing in him, Tony slinked away again to kick around in what was left of the undergrowth for the other shoe, not about to commit to that losing argument if he didn't have anything to show for it. Was this because Tony grabbed him? Maybe, probably. He dropped down to a crouch to hug his knees and let out a sigh, tilting his head but not expecting much better results with this new perspective.

“Wha-“ Jon starts, turning to face Tony only to find the man retreat, leaving the puzzled Archivist behind. That didn’t come across right, didn’t it.

Biting his lip, he follows. And sure enough he finds the other man not too far from where they have been searching their belongings.

“Tony....” Jon announces his presence and steps closer, crouching down next to the other. Not close enough to touch him, but yet close enough to feel the relative warmth of the other body. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—“ What, exactly? He doesn’t finish the sentence, instead tilts his head forward and to the side to look at Tony. “It’s just... I don’t want to go there. To the Graq. To.... Whoever of our group may be there.” A pause. “But you might get a cold. I’d rather not.... Have you get sick.” He isn’t saying ‘Because of me.’ Because Jon doesn’t want Tony to get sick at all.

At this level, Tony did happen to spot a shoelace he hadn't seen in the leaves, which he sulkily kept his focus on as Jon approached only to keep his careful distance. He dragged one of his shoes out of a bush, tangled in weeds and sopping with mud. It wasn't that he didn't understand how this would be humiliating, but that shouldn't have been a good enough reason to just abandon anyone, making Tony finally meet Jon's gaze sidelong. He found a way for Tony to follow him, what did he think was wrong with Tony?

Maybe he was right, because Tony handed the clothes he was carrying off to him, poor collateral to promise a return as he stretched up to his feet. "Don't go anywhere, stay put," he demanded, then left Jon alone in the dark, heading toward the signs of the party. If Jon wasn't going to follow, Tony would bring some back to him, easy.

Much easier than anticipated, even. As he stepped out of the forest to the cleared circle around a tall bonfire, he was still looking up wonder at what looked like banners strung up between the trees going all the way up beyond the reach of the light, when one of the Graq approached him. He meant to ask for some kind of light to help search the shoreline, but the juvenile, looking tired and irritated, already had a delivery for him, dumping a pair of what appeared to be the softest, quilted blankets that Tony had ever felt into his arms, then trotting away again, job he had been waiting for all night finally complete. Those were not banners, Tony realized, as he looked around again for answers to the questions he had now, and saw some of the Graq poking their heads or dangling their feet out of these cocoons that they had strung up for themselves off of the ground. "Hey, do you have, like, a lamp...?" Tony called after the impatient youth. He could have said 'thank you' he realized.

When Tony came whispering back through the leaves and cracking sticks underfoot, it was with a bobbing point of light in one hand. It didn't turn out to be very helpful to navigate, weak as it was, so Tony doubted it would be much use for finding Jon's glasses, and the way the lamp of that strange, malleable stonework occasionally jostled and buzzed in his hold made him largely regret bringing it.

After being handed their clothes and told to stay put, that's more or less what Jon has been doing.

More or less.

After dwelling for a while on having been left by himself and if what he has expressed himself poorly again, Jon has started to occupy himself. Tony has left him with his clothes, so he would return. That is something Jon reminds himself he shouldn't doubt. And so he has, indeed, gathered what has been missing of their things after sorting through what has already been present and hanging the pieces up on some nearby branches after cleaning those that could do with some cleaning in the lake, which by then has settled back to its clear, glowing self. Which still fascinates Jon. His missing shoe has also made its appearance at the very edge of the lake and has joined its other half.

By the time Tony returns, the Archivist is kneeling in the shallow part of the lake, hair an air-dried mess, and carefully cleaning his glasses. The spot where Cal has fixed them is obvious enough, as are the places where the frame has suffered from getting in brief contact with Graq spit.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, Jon looks up and in Tony's direction, surprised to see the little light and excited to spot Tony himself. "Tony!" He exclaims fondly as he stands to walk towards him. "You brought a light! That's better thinking than what I considered trying."

Tony lifted the lamp with a bow of his head, of course he would be accepting applause and accolades at this time, then set it down with the larger blanket with the ties on the corners to address as soon as the pressing concerns were dealt with. "What were you considering?" he asked with a laugh as he met Jon at the edge of the water to drape a blanket over his head and gather it closed in front of him. Giving his hair a rub through it, to make sure it was really dry and as much of a mess as possible, Tony's lopsided grin slowly grew until he was holding Jon's face gently cupped around the blanket and greeted, "Hey. You look great."

"Oh, you know how the water glows and--" Jon begins, but finds himself cut short at the sudden weight of the blanket first put over, the pulled around him, which leaves him blinking for a moment. It's warm. And soft. And warm. "Oh." Jon observes after a moment, only briefly glancing up at Tony rubbing his head, feeling unable to complain. So instead of complaining, he gives Tony a genuinely impressed and maybe a little flustered look. "Tony, these are- This is... Wh-where did you get these?"

Finally landing on something Jon actually appreciated was so gratifying that Tony forgot to actually listen, making him go, "Hm?" around a smile, then echo, "Oh," shaking himself out of a rapturous study of Jon's expression with a cough and loose wave of his arm back the way he had come. It probably wouldn't have been such a big hit without the whole almost drowning part, anyway, these results were skewed and Tony was trying his best not to look at Jon that way, he could be adorable without Tony devouring him like a wolf, and now he needed to put a lot of space between them. He built it out of his answer when he managed to cobble together what Jon was trying to ask him, "These? Just made 'em, banged it out over there, one of my many talents. No, listen, I got it from those guys you don't want to hang out with, they just handed them to me, they're doing a whole thing over there. Look, this one has ties, it's like a hammock, see, I knew they had ways to deal with the bugs, they don't even touch the ground, not a problem."

“I’m glad you found the bedding you were looking for after all.” Jon manages with a chuckle and pats the fabric Tony has put around him. “This is really nice- I... I may not have been entirely fair to the Graq.” At least he will admit it. But then again, Tony didn’t get spit at by them and experience the resulting hallucinations. He’s lucky their new alien friends actually like him. Which may just be the man’s charm, but...

Jon shakes those thoughts off and instead steps closer to Tony, raising an arm and the blanket along with it to offer sharing the warmth while raising a curious brow at him. “Now what? We put this up here and wait for morning?”

"Do you think I can keep it? I mean, I'm going to. Do you think they meant I could keep it?" Tony wondered, not really looking for an answer because he was committed to this path already, and part way ready to reignite the differences between the two tribes if he had to, to keep his hands on the blankets. None of the Graq were getting that one off of Jon, anyway.

Tony couldn't claim nearly the self control it would take to keep trying to back away when Jon invited him closer, immediately producing a dozen assurances for himself that this was fine and he could stop whenever he wanted to welcome Jon's arm over his shoulders, and the warm envelope of the blanket. It wasn't fine--it was great, fantastically warm in the pocket of Jon's body heat, in the way that Tony hadn't realized how cold he really was, and those icy fingers danced along Jon's waist until Tony had him encircled and his nose searching behind Jon's ear. "Clothes'll take a while to dry," Tony readily agreed, "Someone should be here to see what the lake looks like in the light, for, you know, science. Can't just leave a party, they had these prepared for us and everything, it's only polite."

Finding his invitation accepted, Jon easily wraps his arms around Tony's neck and pulls him close to press his face against his neck, producing a content hum of approval. Of course they could ask. Maybe offer a trade. Work something out. Tony can speak to the Graq and they may be willing to work something out with their visitors.

But of course Tony knows these things. He doesn't need Jon to say them out loud. Which Jon doesn't feel like doing when he can have a moment of this closeness and shared warmth and unlike when they were submerged he actually gets to inhale Tony's scent while holding him close.

"Mmm. That's why you brought the party here..." Jon mumbles against Tony's neck, one of his hands having settled to rub some warmth into Tony's back and he can't help but grin a little. "For science." An excuse that works for him.

Alright, not fine, not fair, even, Jon must have known that sent a shiver up Tony's spine, and he had to bite his lip to convince himself not to kiss his way across Jon's face and knock him to the ground. This was some kind of punishment, surely. With a deep breath, Tony dragged himself away instead, looking with very intent purpose back toward his lamp for something to do with his hands to stop them from lingering on Jon's skin. He could figure this out, it was just a hammock, easy.

It took clearing his throat again, shocked cold outside of the hug of the blanket, for Tony to offer idly as he shook out the fabric, "Theirs are all hung way up there, like, prepared to die kind of high, not sure that's your thing, you know, trying to climb a tree just to get into this. Do you think they have nightmares? I've fallen out of bed more than once, that doesn't seem like a reasonable risk. Maybe they're not sleeping out there, you know, now that I say it, of course they aren't, these are, like, deck chairs, we should find out what their beds are like, they must be incredible, I'll get you a pillow." By then, he had plotted out and hung the first corners of the blanket on some sturdy trees, up on his toes to try to keep it from sinking too far to the ground with any weight on it.

It's not fair that Tony steps away all of the sudden, either. Leaving Jon to wrap his arms back around himself again with a soft, yet disappointed huff, watching Tony as he does it again. The rambling, the trying to keep himself and his hands busy. Those odd avoiding tactics he seems to believe no one to notice.

"Didn't think I'd get an invitation to a Graq bed tonight..." Jon muses with a step towards Tony and his fiddling with the hammock, letting his eyes settle on the side that has already been knotted in place. "Yet I... I don't think I'm surprised they hang them that high? They built their homes up in the trees. What may leave us nauseous is perfectly normal for them."

Tony paused long enough, working a knot out of one of the corners, to shoot Jon a sidelong look with a wry smile, because only one of them found heights, apparently, nauseating. They were going to have to work on that, because if Tony was stuck grounded for much longer he was going to have what he was sure was an entire personality crisis, the drinking and this thing with Jon he was working through were nothing in comparison, and he couldn't imagine right now just leaving Jon behind every time.

He let that go for now, though, giving a thoughtful hum to tease, "So, that's your type," as he strung up the last corner of the hammock. "You've been avoiding the answer this whole time, and I get it now, that's hard to admit to. Big, hair guy who will spit on you, that's a very specific fantasy, I'm glad you can trust me with that now." They hadn't really talked about the spitting thing yet, maybe it wasn't appropriate to joke about, and Tony gave a last tug at the ties as he conjured an apology for going there with his free hand. It was probably a bad time to ask. He tilted the hammock over to pull himself up into a seat, only to slide easily down the silky surface into the middle with his feet kicking uselessly over the edge.

Jon isn't outright terrified of heights, yet a certain avatar of The Vast has left the Archivist with a somewhat unpleasant experience of being stuck in a simulated free fall while being safely sat on a chair for God knows how long. And being told that his mind may be aware he isn't really falling, but that his body won't know that once said avatar decided it hits the ground doesn't improve the memory. Though he remains open to having his opinion improved.

Right now, however, he watches Tony's feet hang out of the hammock with a little frown still lingering as a result of the other man's words. "I will pass on any further spitting, thank you..." Is all he has to say in response before giving one of Tony's feet a slight nudge. "So how is it, this... Deck chair?"

"Honestly, fantastic. They're definitely not getting it back," Tony reported from his pocket in the hammock, and would have been happy to settle exactly where he was with the tension of this whole, weird day melting out of him and the alien stars winking through the treetops above. If Jon hadn't nudged him, anyway. He wiggled to try to tip the seat forward again and make it easier for Jon to climb in, but the undersuit left him with very little purchase on the blanket and mostly managed to slide further into the hammock, disappearing entirely over the edge. "These guys know how to party," he continued, voice muffled.

Watching Tony's feet vanish gets a light, yet amused noise from Jon, before he carefully pushes the side of the hammock down while just as carefully holding onto the blanket he is still wrapped in.

"Right. Time to join the party." Jon announces, then makes a careful attempt at carefully joining Tony only to find the unique attribute of hammocks to work against his intention and he ends up gracelessly falling backwards into the hammock and nearly landing on Tony with a yelp.

As ready as Tony tried to be for that well telegraphed disaster, the blanket was not conducive to being able to help at all, leaving him wincing on impact and cackling at the flail and noise Jon made. "It's okay, it's just a kidney, I have two," he insisted before Jon could start stuttering about it, and tugged at the blanket he brought with him to get it away from him before he managed to suffocate anyone. "They had it like this, look," he explained, sitting up to drape the smaller blanket over the open top of the hammock as it bowed in with their weight, dragging it over to complete their cocoon and trap a pocket of warmth against the cool night air. The Graq might have been severely out of their element on a space ship, and Tony might not have appreciate being on their planet much, but they certainly had an admirable command of what they had to work with. In here, he could barely hear the music that continued from the direction of the party as much as he could feel it, and was only distantly aware of the splashing of the waterfall, back to its serene, glasslike shimmer with the evidence of their disturbance settling like it had never happened.

The landing is accompanied by some sputtering and a bit of flailing, but it all stops when Tony takes the blanket to demonstrate what he has seen, distracting Jon from the brief moment of cold and sudden exposure with the completion of their little shelter.

"...oh." He repeats his earlier impression feeling around much rather than looking. It's warm and soft and offers a distinct feeling of security. Maybe they should have gone to the party after all.This could have been a nice, comfy evening rather than another diving adventure disrupted by local fauna.

"I like this." Comes the ultimate conclusion as Jon gives the nearest wall of soft fabric a little pat. "And I agree that you should keep these."

With the full effect complete, including jostling for hard won space in the dipping pocket against each other's shoulders, Tony had to observe, "This must be incredible up high, they know what they're doing, we're going to have to try it," knowing they wouldn't be seeing so much as feeling that suspension in the dark womb. There was a very primal sense of security in that idea, being away from anything lurking on the forest floor; they must not have been all that different from the Graq. Tony couldn't quite agree with Jon's assessment until he had felt his way around his waist again, rolling up off of the blanket and against Tony's chest, between his knees where they weren't competing for space anymore and Tony could sigh, "Yeah, not bad," with a short laugh.

Finding himself relocated from one moment to the next gets another short noise of surprise from the Archivist, but he is quick to accept and settle in this new position on top of Tony, settling there with little more than a short huff as complaint.

“How much higher than this are we speaking?” He asks with a Mutter while finding a comfortable spot for his head on Tony’s shoulder.

"Just about where you're going to barf," Tony replied happily, tickling both hands up Jon's back to comb one through his hair, convincing himself that this was much easier to deal with in the dark, it was just warm and he could feel Jon's weight down the length of his body, but it wasn't like he had to survive the full force of Jon's determined frown without his chest bursting. Stop picturing it. Tony screwed his eyes shut tight then tried to relax, releasing a heavy breath that he didn't realize he had been holding, and abruptly murmured, "I'm sorry." As long as he was letting things go, and they were supposed to be secure in this cocoon. "About earlier, I guess, I didn't want to let you go, that's not an excuse, but, mostly for before, I don't know if I said I was sorry. I am. And for everything before that, I didn't realize you weren't, uh, happy--I mean, I knew you weren't happy, I was trying to, I don't know, but..." Tony exhaled again, and tried to gently untangled the restless curl and twist of his fingers into Jon's hair.

"...I will trust you to get me up there - And keep me from falling." Jon says, his voice soft as some of his usual tension starts to melt away. Which is one effect this somewhat unusual situation appears to have on him.

Surrounded by this darkness and without being able to rely on his eyes, Jon finds himself limited to his other senses to follow what's happening. Normally, he'd be more worried about being in such darkness, but that feeling of security this cocoon offers negates that worry quite effectively, much rather prompting him to press his face against Tony's neck, eyes closed.

The hands on his back make him shiver for a moment, but that shiver is followed by a low hum that turns into an exhale and Jon's own hand finds its way up to the other side of Tony's neck and up to the side of his face. The hand stops when Tony speaks up, apologizes. And it takes Jon a moment to put together what he is talking about.

"Mmhm..." Jon repeats his hum and his hand settles against the side of Tony's face fully, resting there a short while before slipping down to rest where it so often lies: Over Tony's heart. "I'm quite happy now." He offers without shifting from where he has settled now. "But I appreciate those words... I do. And I... I want to make you happy, too." Though he is still puzzling over the how...

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