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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No boy wonder costuming here (though arguments could be made about Steve's original uniform). The Soldier has kept to a simple theme: black, and as close to leather-and-kevlar tactical gear as possible. In an environment like the caverns, little-to-no light and deep shadows, it would hopefully prove a boon.

Then again, an underground burrowing worm large enough to carve tunnels with its bulk likely had way more advantage.

He cursed under his breath, falling back into Russian because honestly, the harsh sounds to the language suited it well. Guns weren't part of his current inventory — mostly due to mistrust of the Agrii data points — and their current positioning didn't give them any advantage for taking it down with what he had on him. Best to retreat then, attempt to get away now and worry about finding an exit after.

Or a better chance to take the beast down. He hadn't discounted that possibility.

"Run," he urged Tony, moving into that tug, away from the worm. "The far tunnel. Go."

Tony didn't need to be told twice, but kept a tight grip on the Soldier's arm as if to make sure they were both actually running and he wasn't feeding the guy to the worm for his own heroic escape. He only let go as they crowded into the tunnel and couldn't keep a pace side by side in the narrow passage, tearing ahead with the faint glow of the light the Soldier had given him to try to assess what they were running into before it became the next problem. Sliding in the dirt and skidding around narrow corners that had him bumping his shoulders against the rocks was irritatingly familiar, why was it always giant underground bugs lately?, but he didn't have the flares or Cayde's gunslinging to settle the issue this time.

"We're going down!" Tony announced, sure the Soldier had felt that slope, too, but still feeling it necessary to make very clear to the gathered assembly, "Down is bad!"

As they run, the Soldier kept looking from side to side, hoping for a smaller tunnel or crevasse that they can take to get away from the worm. Something that they could fit into and it couldn't would be fine — or a sharp turn they could take to get out of its immediate path.

Unfortunately they hadn't been that lucky thus far. And the tunnel definitely took a downward slope beneath their feet.

"Down is fine!" Down was better than crushed or eaten by a giant worm. Plus when he was exploring earlier, some of the tunnels had opened into larger caverns. If they were lucky, they would hopefully encounter one — maybe with some nice ledges on the wall that they could climb up and get out of the path of their pursuit. And as long as he was wishing, a good, strong rope and a pair of Sigs wouldn't go amiss either. "Anything that opens into a larger space gives us room to maneuver around it!"

A larger space like a tomb that this worm regularly stalked its prey to, and this whole pursuit was just a game that they were meant to lose at the bottom of a pit full of skeletons. This was a lofty concept for Tony to vocalize while he ran, so he made a noise of complaint that abruptly cut off as he came to a sudden stop, then doubled back, all but crashing into the Soldier. Tony grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to the side into where the light had caught a strange surface, then shadow; a narrow crevasse, like he had been hoping for, that Tony had to jam himself into, then drag the broader Soldier against the squeeze of the rocks with him, just as the worm slammed the side of its horny head against the wall they retreated into. Tony found he had to cut off an alarmed exclamation, not sure how he was supposed to address this man, and decided it was a perfectly normal time to ask, "Do you really not have a name?" Crushed between the rocks, jagged darkness cutting further into the ground to one side and angry worm monster to the other, Tony said, "I think you deserve one."

Look the cavern was a great idea, okay?!? Don't knock it.

But the Soldier quickly followed Tony's lead, squeezing into the narrow space — much closer to Tony than he would have preferred, but it couldn't be helped — and took a moment to just breathe, listening carefully. The worm made a decent amount of noise trying to get to them but the rock didn't sound like it was going to give and he didn't think the creature was smart enough to try waiting them out. They just had to be patient until it got bored and decided to seek other prey. Really, it wasn't the worst situation he'd ever found himself.

That was when Tony apparently decided it was time to talk.

The dim light meant that the Soldier couldn't see all of Tony's features clearly, couldn't truly read his expression to try to find out what was behind the question. It hopefully also meant that Tony couldn't read all of his, because he didn't think, in the wake of the adrenaline rush, that he'd kept an entirely neutral expression; he was out of practice and mentally scolded himself for it. Then he exhaled in a soft sigh, looked away from Tony anyway. Just in case. "I really don't," he replied, though he didn't clarify if he was addressing the question or the following statement. He planned to take his cue from the other man, see which point he pushed before choosing how to navigate the conversation. It likely wouldn't be comfortable either way.

No part of this was comfortable, including how obvious that ambiguity was, so Tony took a moment to mutter, "Okay, well." It was quiet under the way the worm scraped against the seam in the tunnel wall, trying to catch a thorn against the edge and tear it open for the meal inside. Tony was looking up, like they might shimmy their way out that way, then away from the crack they had slipped through and further into the unknown. It was hard to hear over the sounds of the pursuer, but they did seem to continue to echo that way, so Tony started to move carefully again, twisting and ducking around unforgiving shards. "Jeffrey," he said suddenly as he went, then, "No." A moment later, "Darrel."

At least the conversation was more comfortable than getting eaten. That was a very important point to consider. And they had enough room to move, though it proved awkward in places. Now and then the Soldier reached out to brush Tony's sleeve, just to ensure they weren't separated. He really didn't want to have to try tracking down the other man down here.

"Soldier," he said quietly, in response to the attempted names. They felt wrong, but he doubted that he could explain it in a way that Tony would understand. The few people to whom he'd tried to explain hadn't; those conversations had not gone well at all. He'd mostly given up on trying.

They felt wrong because they were the wrong names, not the kind of name for a guy from the dawn of time with a metal arm, or so Tony interpreted that response. He was quiet for slightly longer this time as they worked further away from the frustrated worm, trying to bridge that gap, and eventually produced for approval in the dark, "Papa Bear." He shifted the light, catching the flash of his grin as he turned it on the Soldier instead of trying to search ahead as he continued, "Honeybee. Reginald. Sweet-hup!" Tony dropped, catching himself with surprise on one of the jutting rocks as the ledge he stepped toward cracked under his weight, and went sliding noisily down into that cavern the Soldier had been looking for. Forgetting the christening for a moment, Tony searched for a safe place to step out of the narrow passage and investigate this new problem to solve.

"No," he replied to the latest suggestion. And "no," followed by "no," followed by "why are you so—"

Followed by Tony not looking where he was going, and all but tumbling out of sight — and just fast enough for the Soldier's outstretched arm to miss grabbing him. Immediately dropping to a crouch (lower the center of gravity) he grabbed onto the side wall of the tunnel (dig metal into rock, secure the anchor point) and leaned over the crumbled ridge to try to spot Tony. What he did see was the flash of light, tracked its progress to a stop and called down to the other man: "are you in one piece?"

He'd call again if he had to, and louder, but he was hoping to not attract too much new attention and kept his voice low. He'd join the other man in a moment, but needed to make sure he wouldn't come down in a way that would risk injury to Tony.

It wasn't really a sheer drop, more of a surprising slope, the rocks loose and tumbling as Tony worked for a foothold before he went sliding blindly any deeper into the cavern. "Fine," he insisted in a slightly strained grunt. "Hey, can we call that one your fault, too? Technically, you're a distraction. If you weren't here, I would have seen that coming a mile away." Of course this whole predicament was Tony's fault.

Instead of replying, the Soldier leaned a little further out, trying to get a better view. The problem with the dark cavern was, well, its darkness: even to his enhanced eyesight, the little bit of light they had wasn't enough to make out a lot of details.

"Yes," he finally answered, "we all know I'm horrible; add it to the list. Do you think you can climb up to where I can reach you, or am I coming down there?" The slope didn't look too bad from this angle, but that was considering his own abilities. And they had to take the loose rock into account as well. It didn't matter if the Soldier could climb it; what mattered was if Tony could. He didn't truly know the extent of the other man's abilities, aside from an apparent affinity for finding trouble.

The sound of Tony scrambling on the rolling rocks felt loud to his ears, sure every pebble was alerting any other worms lurking down here in the dark to their presence. Rapidly, Tony gave up on that endeavour and pressed himself up on the handhold that hadn't let him down yet, before shakily peeling one hand away to reach up and flail hopefully; it was dark, he was already stressed, he couldn't hold his weight up on one arm indefinitely. "Any time," he grunted, "Or--come on down. That's worked out. So far."

"Okay," he agreed simply. Tony coming up might not have solved anything for them anyway, with the worm between them and their entry point. Exploring the cavern for alternate routes would be best, especially if he could link up with the areas he'd explored earlier.

He took another moment to assess the slope down to where Tony hung, and how he'd have to aim himself to come up about level with the man, without compromising his handhold. Then he let go of his own perch, sliding on loose skree. Fortunately though where Tony had to rely on catching handholds, the Soldier could make his own, metal fingers digging into rock as he approached the other man. He ignored the wrench it gave his shoulder to stop himself so, instead looking Tony over from head to foot. He didn't look injured; that was a good sign.

"Let me slide the rest of the way down first," he suggested. "Since you don't look before you step."

"You're not supposed to--Okay," Tony sighed, sliding back down to hang off of the rock with both hands, wincing theatrically as pebbles went scattering around him in the Soldier's wake. His tone wasn't working well with this one, that could be a bit of fun. Later, out of the dark. "It's a personality defect," he replied, okay, maybe a bit of fun now, because he just said he was fine, the Soldier didn't need to give him a once over like that. "Doctors say it's a side effect of being this handsome. Fatal, unfortunately."

Well, if Tony wasn't going to climb up to where the Soldier could reach him to pull him up, what else was he supposed to do? Leave him there? The thought certainly crossed his mind — evaluating all options was simply a part of his training — but for the immediate moment, joining him seemed like the best bet.

And no, he didn't trust Tony to be honest about any possible injuries. After all, if put in the same position, the Soldier himself would lie. And as for Tony's own self assessment? "Yes," he replied seriously. "Very fatal. I can understand why people would want to kill you for it."

And then let go his grip, sliding down the slope to the cavern floor. If it wasn't such a rough, bumpy ride it might actually have been fun; certainly it got the adrenaline pumping. He almost wished for something to challenge them at the bottom of the slide; a good fight would be a great way to burn off the energy. But for once they seem to be in luck, at least momentarily so: nothing seems to be about.

"Time to let go," he called up the slope, looking up at Tony. "I might even catch you."

For a moment, it was like Tony was on this spelunking trip with the Avengers, and he grinned over his shoulder after the Soldier as he went sliding away with an eyebrow raised in disbelief. Only, someone else would have been ready to follow that up with the assurance they could leave Tony's dead body down here, and no one would be looking for him. It was a team effort. The sensation was gone with the harsh reminder that he was up here alone, and it was still dark, and it was going to keep being dark until they got out of here.

With much less grace, he came skidding down the slope in his own shower of rocks, still grabbing for handholds hopefully instead of letting them carry him down with the kind of trust in the process the Soldier seemed to have. With the light the Soldier had given him clutched against his palm the whole time, already a weak beam, it tracked him down with a faint, reddish glow, and in the last few, jerky feet, Tony was muttering, "Is this what you were doing down here before? This is what you do for fun. Not that I'm judging, I'm just partial to some Mario Kart and a nap myself."

That grin shocked him; usually such expressions weren't directed at the Soldier, and he certainly didn't inspire them in others. He pushed it from his mind. It likely wasn't for him; Tony didn't really know him, and any familiarity there was likely a result of knowing another maybe-Bucky-Barnes-maybe-Winter-Soldier. His only priority in this was getting Tony out of the caverns in one piece. That was the only thing that mattered.

To that end he did track Tony's progress down the slope — the light, however faint, made it easy to stay where Tony would end up, ready in case he actually did need to catch the man. He wasn't so much of an asshole that he would want Tony injured in this venture. "You're definitely judging me," he replied. "I welcome the challenge. Let me see your hands."

The landing wasn't completely terrible, just slightly wobbly as Tony tried to navigate around the gathered detritus at the foot of the slope, and if he reached for the Soldier's arm again it was just to make sure he was there and they were both still holding it together, obviously. "Well, yeah, constantly. You caught me," he admitted. "Have any confessions, make my life easy?"

Meanwhile, he was trying to get a better sense of this space, listening to how the sound bounced and waving the faint light around. It was damp, but it didn't sound like water had pooled anywhere, and the echo crunched through the uneven ground where the rocks had gathered, making it difficult to sense where another passage might be, either to escape or to anticipate another pursuit. "What?" he asked warily, not expecting that command, and slow to raise his arms where he kept his hands still close to his body. "I still have the--thing, look, I didn't lose it, you can have it," he guessed, wiggling the light again.

Edited (wow don't look at me) 2020-09-24 21:38 (UTC)

The landing was actually better than the Soldier expected; Tony might not have even needed to grab for his arm. But better that he did perhaps; in the smaller tunnel it was easy to stay close, but it could be trickier in the larger space, especially if they were forced to turn off the light. Fortunately though it seemed as if their presence still went largely unnoticed, which meant that for the moment he could focus on his companion as Tony got his feet firmly under him. "No," he replied simply. "I don't have to share my story."

If it had the sound of something he said a lot, well. He did in fact say it a lot, and in varying degrees of forcefulness. It still amazed him how many people continued to push even after the first simple no.

"Your hands," he repeated, rolling his eyes. "My hand can't get torn up by rocks. Yours can." He paused, then added a clarification: "I'm not asking for the light back, I'm asking if you're injured." And he didn't really trust Tony to be truthful about it.

"Sure, you don't have to..." Tony muttered, reading that tone well enough not to outright push it, but pushing was very much in his nature. Hanging around Tony was definitely going to lead to him needling or manipulating information into his hands, one way or another, and framing it as a casual unburdening would probably be the least irritating.

He held his hands up in front of his own face, squinting in the dark like that did anything and he couldn't outright feel that he had done plenty of scratching and scraping on the way down, but reported quickly, "Great, all good, thanks for asking, very sweet of you." How injured Tony was didn't really rank on their list of problems to solve, as far as he was concerned, but did use their time to say, careless with the context, "But you can feel it." Just a guess, and he wasn't just going to ignore an opportunity to find out more about the arm.

"You're right." He could tell that Tony wasn't pleased, but at least he didn't start outwardly arguing the point either. That was how this conversation usually went, after all; the Soldier said no, and the person to whom he was talking immediately argued his choice, as if his own free will meant nothing. As if they had to know, and didn't understand the line between need and want.

The Soldier was allowed to want things now. It was a novel concept.

"You know how dark it is down here," he said, taking one of Tony's hands in his left, running the fingertips of his right hand over the palm. "No real significant light source at all. The creatures here probably don't hunt by sight, they'd have to hunt by sound and smell." He dropped the hand, moved on to examine the other one. "And blood has a very distinct smell."

But Tony hadn't been lying, as his hands were a little battered but the skin wasn't broken.

"Always am. You know, if we're going to keep having these great little vacations together, and, you know, we should make this a regular thing, like a scheduled shared nightmare, that's something you should keep in--ah." One of them had to be talkative, and Tony was happy to shoulder that burden and listen to his own voice, until the Soldier taking his hand effectively shut him down. Right. No one had to talk. Tony pressed his lips together, then blew out a heavy breath, trying to release the anxiety that would make him start talking again, head tilting in the dark like he could sense better what the Soldier was doing if he listened. Either he was right handed, very likely, or the metal arm didn't have the kind of sensory feedback that Tony had guessed at, to make a close examination. His fingers twitched, ticklish, making it more difficult to concentrate on what the Soldier did have to say, so for a moment Tony only had a dismissive, "Uh-huh," for him when he seemed to be done.

Processing more effectively with his hands back, Tony dropped his voice to play back, "Don't bleed, got it," as he cradled his own hands against his chest, then turned back to consider their options. Slippery hill with a worm on top on one side, darkness on the other. "C'mon," he muttered, swinging in the light in the direction he chose to follow the slope along, hoping they would encounter a wall to follow shortly. Tony knew how to find his way out of a maze, this couldn't be that different.

"Doubtful," he shot back, though with little heat. Tony was welcome to all the conjecture he wanted about their association outside of the present situation; the Soldier was pretty certain that it was just talk. "You know other people who are better vacation company than I am."

Or better company for pretty much everything; he got the impression that they didn't have much in common at all. Case in point: Tony's tendency to talk. Though his talking seemed impaired by the temporary capture of his hands, and the Soldier wondered briefly at the adage about people who talked with their hands could be silenced simply by holding the appendages. Perhaps there was some truth in it.

"Advice you should probably follow even outside these caves." Generally speaking, bleeding was bad; blood belonged inside the body.

He fell into step with Tony though, walking a little closer than before — hopefully, should Tony slip again, the Soldier would catch him this time. He drew the line at holding onto the other man though, not unless they deemed it necessary. "I was in a cavern like this earlier," he eventually offered. "There were some stalagmites clustered on the floor, they looked like five fingers, with the middle one sticking above the others. If we see it, then this might be the same cavern and I could find my way out again."

That sounded enough like a setup for a bad joke that Tony laughed anyway at the idea of this being the Soldier's sense of humour, rude rock formations. "I'll keep an eye out," he accepted, since the Soldier was handing out such life-changing advice, he was on a roll. He stepped more confidently as they reached the cavern wall, and he could keep a light hand on it as they followed it along, searching for the next path to nowhere great. The silent companionship thing made him less confident, though, and very soon he was talking again, not necessarily to the Soldier, "Hey, is your New York the Ice Age or whatever, or did you get to spend some time there? I'm telling you, this smell, this dampness that's been here too long and there's probably cockroaches dead in it, it smells exactly like that one leaky freezer in every bodega, I'm, honestly, having flashbacks. I can practically taste the coffee. I'd fight that worm for a bodega coffee."

"While you do, I'll keep an eye out for more worms." Since Tony had been so kind as to find the first one. Privately he hoped it'd be their only one, because he didn't know Tony's fighting style and the caverns seemed far from the best place to learn.

Or maybe they were the best place to learn, and these were just bad circumstances. In any event, he'd be happy enough to not run into a worm and have to worry about protecting someone else at the same time.

"I don't really know New York," he admits. "Not... not as a local, I guess." He knew it for other reasons, ones he didn't like thinking about and others that he really didn't like thinking about. Best not to dwell upon it but rather to steer Tony toward other thoughts, if possible. "I wonder if the Graq have something similar to coffee...?"

neck of the woods

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excuse you, all these tasty snacks need is a nice wine pairing

It's true that they are very good snacks

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ice cold...

almost like being frozen for 70 years...

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i saw nothing~

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