revivalproject

Entry tags:

Log

WHO: Reeve Tuesti, OTA
WHERE: Around Agrii Ship
WHAT: The Trip Home, Planning for Temba, and the Adventures of Mini-C (Early Sept Catch All)
WHEN: Journey back to Agra 10
WARNINGS: N/A I hope

A. Peanut Butter Jelly Time | Mess Hall | OTA

Reeve had a dirty little secret, one that had him returning to the Mess Hall with a strange regularity for a man who often forgot meal times. He was a man of expensive restaurants, Wutain and Mideelese takeout, and aged bourbons. He was a man who had once grown up on a farm, so most of his food was so fresh that it had been on the plant the day before. He was a man who stayed up late and lived by the liter of coffee.

Reeve Tuesti's dirty little secret?

He loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Judge him all you would, but while others might find the sandwiches jarringly discordant, looking like one thing and tasting like another, Reeve loved it. Currently he was seated at a mess table while Mini-C played with Agrii another table over, halfway through his second sandwich. The first one had looked like a grilled cheese. This one looked like and had the consistency of a chocobo salad sandwich. And damn if he doesn't look half blissed out as he takes another bite.

"I need to ask the Agrii to leave us a supply of whatever they make these sandwiches from," he mused aloud. Damn, now if only he could have a milk shake of this!

B. Engineering Marvels | Engine Room | OTA

The engine was beautiful. Reeve had been staring at it for an hour now, looking at the data that was darting over a number of screens, wishing he could read it. But mostly, he was marveling. If there was technology like this on his world, Mako never would have been a thing. If there was energy like this readily available in Temba, they could all live more comfortably. If there were engines like this on their ships, they could probably go a bit faster.

None of which mattered now, he supposed. What mattered was understanding it. And in the moment, he supposed he had to act. With a sigh he pushed off of the wall that he'd been watching the Agrii from, and almost immediately one of them approached him and offered over a belt with tools like they had. Of course they would do that.

The people were strangely considerate for beings that had kidnapped them and put them into a lot of trouble.

"Thank you," he said, knowing they would understand. He gestured for Mini to stay back, worried that the doll would get himself into trouble, before advancing on the engine core. Not the one they had before, from his understanding. Of course, his attention wasn't on the core itself just yet. Instead he opened a panel near it and lowered himself into the recessed space filled with all sorts of cables, wires, junction boxes, and the like.

"Cid would be so jealous of me right now. I wish I would remember the story to tell him," he laughed, shaking his head.

And then, of the room in general, he posed a question. "Anyone got a flash light? The backup light in the space that should come on when the panel is off seems busted. Guess we should start with replacing that."

C. Adventure Time | Halls near the Green Room | OTA

There is a downside to being a inanimate object given a soul by someone with weird magic. The downside was that humans had to sleep. Living beings had to sleep. Mini-C? Just a doll with a soul. He didn't have to sleep. So when his companion had fallen asleep in a corner of the green room with a bench, not even bothered by the Agrii that kept slipping in to look at him, well, Mini had to find something to do. Sure, it was nice sometimes to be there when Reeve needed him, snuggling in to keep his maker from being trapped in his nightmares, but that wasn't needed on naps.

Which was why Mini had toddled out of the Green room. The Agrii were of course interested in the doll, how could they not be? But they learned quick, Mini was learning. All he had to do was hop and point toward door controls and they would chatter happily amongst themselves before opening the door for him. It was really easy.

That, of course, was how Mini came to be wandering in the halls outside of the Green room, poking around and exploring. And, in this moment, trying to force open a panel. Which was hard, when his little paws had no leverage.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

This felt like Tony was intruding on something intimate between Reeve and the sandwich that he was talking to, which was exactly the kind of moment Tony would enjoy inserting himself into if that wasn't a sandwich and Tony found he actually did not want to know this one thing about Reeve. From the door to the kitchen where he emerged into the mess hall, he glanced around to find Mini first, sure the doll couldn't have been far, and raised his eyebrows when he caught Mini's eye, knowing he wasn't the type to give Tony's judgmental energy back especially while he seemed to have found some kindred spirits in the childlike Agrii, but with Mini's limited expressive range Tony was free to imagine that he obviously agreed that Reeve was deeply troubled. Even if Mini wasn't really happy with him after how short he had been with the little guy during the crisis, which Tony suspected. He deserved that, anyway.

Tony announced his approach with a hand on Reeve's shoulder before he slid into a seat next to him, pushing a glass onto the table in front of them as he did that looked to be somewhere between a parfait and a cocktail. There were sliced rounds of fruit tucked into it, and a dripping rim of what would have been chocolate in any other room clinging along the inside edge and streaking through alternating tiers of liquid that were shockingly coloured and lightly carbonated. "Some people," was Tony's greeting, voice low and on the edge of raspy like this wasn't the first thing he had to say to Reeve, but the drawling middle of a last call conversation at the bar, "have a relationship with food that I have never understood." He sat with his arms folded on the table to hold himself up, one hand up to gesture loosely, his whole demeanour a tired bruise if not for the relaxed tilt of his head and easy, wry smile. He dropped his hand to trace along the rim of his glass as he continued, "Ours, mine and food, the relationship, I mean, is very utilitarian, in'n'out, you know, fuel. Don't get me wrong, I don't not enjoy eating, but it is not my indulgence of choice."

The hand on his shoulder, even briefly, makes Reeve jump a bit. The touch is... he's lost familiarity with touch in a lot of ways, and doesn't anticipate reacquiring it. For a moment his expression is soft and sad. And then it's replaced with the welcoming smile of a friend.

No more sad. Just friends. After all, he enjoys Tony's friendship and intellectual conversation.

"Tony, if you have a treat like that too often, one will have to worry about your figure. Still, it's good to see you indulging. But he smiles back at the observation.

"Normally I am the same as you, of course. But peanut butter was a very rare treat when I was a child. We couldn't grow peanuts on the far. I was introduced to it in college, and Midgar... Well, a man of my stature eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the cafeteria would cause the strangest looks. So I indulge when I can. And I haven't been able to in so many years."

As uniquely kind as Reeve was to Tony, he did have a talent for being shockingly caustic when he wanted to, making Tony narrow his eyes then turn his gaze pointedly away and down at the assortment on the table with a pout, not that he cared, his figure was fine, it wasn't like he could be counting calories under these conditions, there was probably a scale in the cargo bay he could use. The irritation couldn't last, overtaken easily by a surprised chuckle to bring back Tony's lopsided grin at Reeve's, the same as you, of course, sure he hadn't intended to imply that it should always be assumed that their tastes and habits were similar, but still muttering, "Oh, of course," as Reeve continued.

"Just to clarify," Tony said once he had absorbed this excuse for Reeve's intimacy with his sandwich, and leaned back in his seat away from the table, his question too important to be slouched over for, "where you're from, back home, are you rich enough to be considered 'eccentric', or are you just a regular weirdo?" With a brief laugh at his own teasing, Tony elaborated, "That is such a weird thing to be worried about being seen doing, but, you know what, if you look like you did every time you have a PB'n'J, that's fair, you were really communing with God there. What else do you not do in public? Is it just sandwiches you draw the line at?" There wasn't much left for Tony to do outside of his house that didn't incur strange looks, it felt like, strange looks were part of his every day life, and he had done far worse things to deserve them than a choice of lunch.

Caustic was, of course, not the goal. So apparently he can manage it even when he wasn't trying.

"What a complicated question to answer. When I was your age, just weird. These days? Eccentric. I mean, how many men have talking robotic cats, frequently talk to the Fire-Hounds of Cosmo Canyon, and have helped save the world? I think I earned my eccentricity. In Midgar, with Shinra it was more... I was seen as weird because I was soft and so very different from other execs."

Communing with God in a PB&J? Reeve laughs, delighted at the very concept of it.

"Was that really what I looked like? Oh goodness. Maybe I earned some stares back in my day."

Was he playing up the old man thing now that they were only friends? Perhaps. Perhaps indeed. But... His eyes do flicker briefly to the sweet Tony brought over, presumably for Tony's own consumption. No. That is where he draws the line.

"Ice cream. Which I can't trust that the Agrii actually managed right there. It's the facial hair and my love of chocolate sauce. Surely you've had to deal with the issue of it getting into your beard and moustache. And poor country boy me doesn't always remember to go for a napkin. I try and lick it out. Oh the stares. I basically stopped accepting any frozen treats outside of the privacy of my own home. And as I was rarely ever home..."

The way Reeve spoke sounded like he was trying to goad Tony into call him 'old man' again, making Tony narrow his eyes suspiciously over his slanted smirk, not sure what that game was. The pet names were still off the table, he was pretty sure. It was almost a distraction from 'Fire-Hounds of Cosmo Canyon', which made Tony's eyebrows jump with surprise, thinking this made Reeve sound like some kind of Star Trek B-story. "So weird," he concluded in a mutter, his smile suggesting that he was really agreeing that Reeve was soft. How easy it was to make Reeve laugh when everyone else generally found Tony annoying did not help the pet name thing, and made Tony relax with an arm along the back of Reeve's chair as he leaned closer to nudge the confection across the table, next to Reeve's lunch.

"That's the kind of stare you're supposed to encourage," Tony said, starting to laugh already at the image of Reeve struggling with chocolate sauce and turning red from the attention. "I'm sure anyone who got to witness it have been missing the performance. But no, you shouldn't trust the Agrii, not ice cream, not chocolate." He gave the base of the glass a tap, and explained, "Trying to make something that feels like coffee. Here's the thing, don't laugh, I know what it looks like, but it's close, I mean, full disclosure, it's got a kick, but it's more like a Monster than a--it's an energy drink, forget about it, the short version is I'm not sure it's worth it yet." Not sacrificing his figure for, anyway, and certainly not sacrificing the chance to watch Reeve struggle with his chocolate-in-public anxiety.

One of these days Tony was going to ask about one of the things Reeve floated in front of him as a distraction, and spend hours falling down the hole of differences between their worlds.

“You’re a horrid man for encouraging,” Reeve says as he sets his sandwich aside and pulls the not-sundae over to take the first bite. Yep, the noise he makes is definitely a pleased on, evocative of some noises only Tony knows Reeve makes.

“I’m not going to laugh if you manage to make something like coffee so I don’t have to go through my supply of it too fast.”

Tony should have probably taken that bait sooner, because it was definitely safer than encouraging that kind of lascivious noise in public. Obviously, Reeve's reservations should have been taken more seriously, and Tony let out a startled chuckle before trying to bite any further response away around his tongue, then clearing his throat, inching slightly away and nodding, sure, he wouldn't be so dismissive of Reeve's very real concerns in the future. Fist still tight behind Reeve's back, Tony filled the space liberally, "Based on the name, personally speaking, I don't think I'd do much talking to Fire-Hounds, either, whatever Canyon they're from. That's either a kinky arsonists club which, you know what, now that I've said that, might be a bit of fun, whole fire thing aside, but I can't really knock something before I've tried it, maybe that's great, or a bike club, or actual dogs on fire. Every option, squarely eccentric territory, for a suit'n'tie guy."

Reeve takes another bite and is soon licking his lips. Don’t mind him, he’s very pleased. Still, he’s got a conversation to be engaged in, and his eyes dance with amusement because Tony is so not ready for this and Reeve knows it.

“Oh, I think you would if you had a chance. There are only two of them left in the world, though I’ve only met one. His name is Nanaki, he’s older than me, and he’s very wise, even if he’s young for his kind. Also, he bluffs rather well, if you’re playing poker with him. Partially because it’s hard to read the reactions of a creature like him. He is also one of the eminent scholars on celestial phenomenon in the world.”

Tony wasn't ready for the ice cream thing, either, so this was turning out to be a real learning experience. Pressing his lips together and eyebrows raised at Reeve's performance, Tony carefully reached back across the table to slide the confection away from him, back in front of Tony. "You're cut off. That's..." he announced, and had to take a deep breath before he decided on, "Indecent," and started to laugh again, forgetting the dig about his weight long enough to take a possessive bite of his own.

What Tony actually found most intriguing about the Fire-Hound explanation, aside from the fact that Reeve made it sound like they might indeed be a very rare breed of dog on fire, was the poker revelation, which had hip tapping the spoon thoughtfully against his lips and looking surprised that Reeve might have this hobby. "I didn't think you--you know what, scratch that, I'm working through it and I'm realizing that young master Cloud only knew how to play card games for children for a different reason, of course you know what poker is," he pondered aloud, weaving this together with the spoon in the air. "Hounds are, famously, despicable poker players. I've only sat down with a couple, but I wouldn't do it again."

“Don’t think that is true of Nanaki,” Reeve says, frowning at the loss of the treat. Indecent? Hardly. He would never dare be such a thing around Tony again. He had lost a friendship over doing so.

“He would take you for your money, Stark. I am certain he is a savant for counting cards. I’d suspect he kept cards up his bracers or in his mane but he lacks the dexterity.”

Maybe the loss of decency was just inevitable around Tony, because he smirked at that frown, how cute, then held Reeve's gaze as he took another unnecessarily slow lick from the spoon. There wasn't much about this interaction that told Tony that Reeve wasn't just like that with food, they hadn't shared very many meals, and so far he was 2 for 2 with the overly engaged. Making sure he was eating, not sleeping like Tony thought, might have been the key to keeping him happy this whole time.

"Everything you say about this guy," he said, sorting his words again with the spoon, "is building a mental picture that is like a children's drawing what a dog might be. Impeccable stuff. And you let him take your shirt, what, because he knew the meteor was coming?"

Or perhaps Tony just sees indecency because his mind is always there. Reeve, smart as he is, looks away when Tony lifts the spoon. He's not going to watch. This is just too complicated.

"He isn't a dog. He's a thinking, reasoning, speaking creature older than either of us and likely to live centuries. And no, I don't let him take my shirt. It would be pointless for him to have one."

First of all, that did little to dissuade the canine image Tony had of the Fire-Hound--he wasn't sure why being a dog would mean he wasn't a thinking, reasoning or speaking creature, Tony had met a few very well spoken dogs in his life, but definitely didn't know a lot that wore clothes. Second, that Reeve took the expression literally made Tony have to drop the spoon back into the parfait as he laughed, clutching his heart with his head thrown back at how serious the retort was. "It's a--a figure of speech," he tried to explain, waving away whatever image Reeve thought Tony had of the relationship with Nanaki. "When you're betting against someone, like--take your shirt off your back, you've put everything in the pool. I'm glad he didn't beat you that bad, anyway. What do you have against dogs?"

"He's not a dog," Reeve answers. "He's... If I had to explain his appearance, he's part lion, part hound, part something else entirely. When I get back to my sketch pad I'll draw him for you. And, of course, his tail is on fire."

He does his best to try and explain the things in his world that he's learned are strange.

Tony looked delighted at the offer to draw anything for him very briefly, before he schooled the expression to a more sober nod, of course, the fire tail, that was how he should have been picturing it all along, this was a very serious cultural exchange and he definitely took the offer like a rational colleague in exploration would. "When you put it like that, it sounds more like the kind of thing some wizard would conjure up to burn down Harlem that I have to punch in the face. I wouldn't, you know, just impulsively punch your friends' faces, but big, flaming lion-hounds are not usually friendly. Dogs, though, very friendly--there's a telepathic one called Cosmo, coincidentally enough, excellent to have on the team, also a nightmare on the other side of the poker table. He's just--dog-shaped. The Russians launched him into space and forgot about him or something, so he adapted."

"Oh dear, that's so sad," Reeve says, his heart half broken at that information. THe poor dog. But it's not like that will stop him. He smiles softly at the memory of Nanaki.

"Nanaki is quite friendly. One of my closest friends. I think Jon would like him. Very philosophic. Also a very talented mage."

Which must sound strange. But so much of Reeve's world must be strange from Tony's perspective.

"He, like Vincent and likely Cloud, will long out live me.'

It was starting to sound like just about everything about this guy was magical to Reeve, making Tony raise a charmed eyebrow and ask conspiratorially, "Should I be jealous?" Friendly, brilliant, even on fire, Tony couldn't imagine asking for more. Maybe to not be a mage, that usually wasn't in the pro column for Tony's tastes, but he was learning some patience there. He didn't expect Reeve to continue with a very stark reflection on his mortality, making Tony's smile drop for a puzzled pout, not sure what brought that on. With the hand along Reeve's chair, he curled his knuckles against Reeve's back, tilting his head inquisitively. "You'll see him again," he guessed at whatever this anxiety was.

"Jealous?"

Reeve looks half horrified at the very idea. That's definitely not okay.

"No. He's not my type. I like men who are strong, dark, and typically dangerous. There are other things I look for as well, but I've noticed a prevalence for such thing."

Still, he looks a bit startled at Tony's point. What? That doesn't even make sense.

"Of course I will sooner or later I'll go home."

That expression set Tony laughing again, and he echoed, "Dangerous," with an appraising smirk--it kind of sounded to Tony like Nanaki might fit the bill, but maybe the being aflame part made him a threat but not particularly dark. If Tony had to make a guess, he would have confidently assumed Reeve preferred a cuddle toy to anything so edgy, to better fit all of his soft edges. "Not for nothin', but I would have put money on you being a furry. That can be pretty dangerous, I guess, in the wrong company."

That didn't resolve why Reeve was thinking about dying, especially since, as far as Tony knew, they were all under the impression Cloud was on a fast track. Brow still furrowed with the unanswered question, Tony gave Reeve's back a reassuring knead, then pat before dropping his hand to tap restlessly against his seat again. "Yeah, I mean..." he tried to indulge, not really sure how to put them back on that path now, and toyed with the spoon in the glass for something to focus on. "You have shit to do, you know, those people are counting on you."

Nanaki was not dangerous. Nanaki was as placid and sweet and gentle as there would ever be. But the aside using the 'f' word earns a dark, angry look.

"I really hate that conclusion. I'd thank you never to make that suggestion again. A man makes a friendly looking robot and people conclude that there is a perversion."

Had he a materia on him, especially fire, there would be some part of Tony's clothes burning from Reeve's roused ire. Sorry Tony, that was a presumption he was clearly long done with well before Tony had ever come along.

"There is a lot depending on me back home. While I cannot say I'm fully happy, at least there I have real purpose. I am welcomed."

He doesn't get into stupid romantic triangles that keep biting him in the ass in the non-sexy way.

Edited 2020-09-22 02:28 (UTC)

Reeve's buttons were never so difficult to find as Tony thought, and stumbling on them kept on being a delightful surprise. The anger only made Tony raise his eyebrows, biting his lip around a taunting grin, which might not have been so hard to conceal if he knew how close he was to being actively set on fire. He at least got a warning slap first, usually. He would have pushed his luck, and Reeve's perversions, if the grin wasn't easily wiped as Reeve continued, expression falling back into his searching frown.

"Are you--do you not think you're welcome?" he asked, free hand up to curl over his heart. Real purpose, that one was debatable, this position left them more confused and frustrated than purpose driven, though they definitely had a few directions to aim in. Tony thought Reeve found a purpose in the power thing back on Agra 10, anyway.

Does he not think he's welcome? Exactly that. Things have been... awkward would be the gentlest word for what he's going through right now.

"I feel... estranged from things," Reeve admits after a long moment. "With Cloud out of it, Vincent not joining us, and Jon..."

Well, and Jon.

"Needless to say, I have less connections I might prefer to possess."

Without a better offer on him, Tony slid his glass closer to Reeve again, and nudged Reeve's plate across the table toward himself like the move hadn't been a weak attempt at a gift, but casual sharing. Tony wasn't that interested in the sandwich, though, and busily picked at the crust to make it look like he might have been. It was only a little hurtful that Tony didn't really rank on that list, because Tony knew that wasn't rational even outside of being very aware that if he pushed the issue, he'd just get to hear Reeve explain how they weren't really friends. He still dug his nails into his palm behind Reeve, trying to ignore it as he considered how to fix this problem for him.

"Cloud and Vincent, they're not gone, you know, so..." he tried, which did sound weak, because that didn't mean Reeve could find comfort in talking with them, but the connection was still present regardless. And maybe that was part of the point, that Reeve's network seemed to mostly be made up of people from his own planet, maybe that was what he meant by welcome. "Jon is--" Not really a subject Tony had worked out how to navigate yet, so he grasped at the first thing that came to mind and suggested, "Just worried you won't want his help anymore." Not entirely a lie, if some creative manoeuvring could suggest Tony was talking about himself and not Jon. That was a stretch. But it did give Tony a starting point to go on more confidently, "He didn't like working at the hospital, so he's just alone in that library and didn't really know what to do with himself, you know, helping with the power grid, that's something." He probably could have sold that better, instead of methodically arranging crumbs on the table, but if Reeve even suggested that he bought any part of that, Tony might be able to start piecing the pair back together.

Oh Tony, that was quite exceedingly a lie. Reeve chuckles and shakes his head because he knows better. Don't be silly.

"Jon hates me, Tony," Reeve counters. "Mini ran into him once, while I was napping. The little one was lonely because he doesn't require sleep like I do. He accused Mini of being controlled by me to spy upon him, flat out stated he wished nothing to do with me, and suggested Mini should endeavor to free himself of me. To escape if you will. When Mini tried to convey that something is wrong with my magic because of the Agrii's meddling, that our range is limited and causes backlash upon us both when we are parted too far, I was called selfish for making him a victim of my actions, and suggested that instead of making Mini I should have made a mindless tool. Which, of course, I am incapable of."

Now he looked agitated all over again. Jon assumed the worst of him, and of course, the source of that was Tony. Which meant Reeve was giving Tony a very tired look.

"He demonizes me, and that shall not change. Which of course brings me to you, Tony. A friend, a compatriot, one of the few people who I have ever met whose intellect outpaces mine but is not a vilely immoral man at the same time. And I fear my friendship with you will only harm your connections to Jon, given how passionately he seems to dislike me at this point. So how can I even fall back on our association, a comfort to me, when doing so has him acting the jilted lover?"

Reeve ignores the offered treat, his head bowing instead, his hand resting on his brow.

"I find myself adrift, with my only social engagement frequently found in a children's toy, which few people understand is a fully sentient being that, were I home, would be able to rove a limitless distance from me with no ill repercussions upon either of us. Estranged doesn't account for any of it. I miss my home. I miss Alistair Fitz-Therin. I miss Leonardo Da Vinci. I miss Brigitte and Stephanie. And I find myself at a loss I cannot remedy."

None of that encounter with Mini suggested to Tony that Reeve should have taken it so personally, even with Tony narrowing his eyes and cocking his head, really trying to see what part of it he could unknot. He took on a similar posture as Reeve, shifting back to balance his elbow on the back of his own seat where he could prop his chin in his hand, only to be redirected briefly with a surprised reaction that he tried to hide behind his knuckles pressed to his lips, to Reeve liberally reassuring him that they were still friends. Is that what he meant when he put a clock on that relationship, that it wasn't really Tony that would inevitably ruin it, but Jon? Also deeply misguided, but at least meant he might trust Tony when he pointed that out.

The homesickness thing, they had to table for the moment, which Tony did physically by touching his heart again and curling his hand into a fist, which he spread on the table with a slow blink--he got that, that was important, it was there for the time being. "You're protective of Mini," he started, trying to recontextualize that encounter for Reeve, because it did sound like he should understand what was actually happening there--he said it himself, few people understood Mini was sentient. "And you know how he feels and what hurts him. To the rest of us, he's a puppet and there are, whether he's willingly under your control or not, strings that tie back to you, he has to stay close to you. So when Jon is a paranoid asshole about him, and, listen, when he's an asshole in general, you gotta understand, that's not about you." If Reeve was willing to put up with Tony being an asshole, he didn't see why this would be such a barrier with Jon.

"You have plenty of reason to be resentful of his powers, too, so--so maybe we all rein that in a bit. You should both have that perspective." Whatever form that took. In Tony's experience, it tended to mean leaving plenty of passive aggressive notes on the fridge, and finding excuses to deck each other to get their frustrations out when a pair of teammates fundamentally didn't understand each other. It rarely meant either of them was wrong. "And if the problem boils down to me, then, I mean, I don't know how to make it more clear that that's my problem. I did that, if either of you are angry it should be at me, and keeping each other at arm's length isn't productive."

A since everyone else is a coward

oh come now, Jon spoke with Mini

but no one is brave enough to take on the peanut butter chicken salad

Perhaps they are sensible

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