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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

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."

Was... he even listening? Reeve pulls away from Tony a bit to stare at him, clearly flabbergasted by what Tony had said. It's not about you. What in the name of Gaia did he think it was.

"Yes, I am protective of Mini. While he is his own person, he's young. But Jon's paranoid and hard-headed dickishness is not about Mini. It is absolutely about me. It's about you and me. It's about the fact that I've slept with you, and he treats that like it's only one person that was involved in that relationship. He throws it in my face that I was sleeping with you after I told him to be open with you about his feelings. Every damn moment of tension with Jon is not about Mini, it's about you and the fact that you lied to us both. I've forgiven you that, but he will never forgive me for me 'going after you' after I told him to be honest about his feelings. An action I only did after you flat out told me that you and him weren't romantically involved."

Yes, he's growing more agitated and he stands.

"Tony, my friend, Jon is a paranoid asshole because he thinks I still want to sleep with you. Am I resentful of what he did to me? Yes. But I've forgiven him. I'm trying to move on. But stop suggesting that anything he does is not unkind to me, and clearly about me."

That shift in their balance as Reeve stood put Tony sharply on edge, dropping both hands to the table to slowly drag over the side of it and drum restlessly where his fingers hung on. Okay, so maybe Reeve wasn't prepared to trust Tony when he tried to talk him down, more prepared to walk away, and that was Tony's fault, too, because he had just basically asked Reeve to be angry with him, but he didn't mean right now. It was Reeve that brought up Jon as a connection he felt he was lacking, Tony was trying to help, and he said, "Listen, I didn't mean to--Sorry, okay? We don't have to talk about him."

This was not a good position to argue whether or not he lied to either of them from. Pretty clearly, he was still trying to construct a narrative, whatever his intentions were, and still didn't have the knack for communicating his feelings. "I just--" He just said they weren't going to talk about Jon. "I'm just trying to fix that connection problem. If you're cutting yourself off, not just from Jon, but, there's plenty of people here that would really benefit from...knowing you."

Well, Reeve would like it if someone benefitted from knowing him. But he doesn't have the heart to say it.

"You're talking about him," Reeve points out as he seats himself again before sighing.

"I suppose I've lost the knack of making friends."

Maybe he was, but Tony didn't mean to talk about just Jon, and tilted his head with a grimace, fine, that didn't make what he said any less genuine. Tony knew he was difficult to get along with and tested people's patience; with anyone else, Reeve must have been an impossibly gentle comfort, readily kind and carefully spoken. There wasn't a lot of that to go around.

Actually making friends, it should have been very apparent, was not a problem Tony had figured out how to solve yet. "I never learned the knack for having friends," he commiserated, easing enough as Reeve brought them level again to lean his chin back in his hand, propped on the table this time, to offer an apologetic smile Reeve's way. "You could try paying them. People stick around longer when they're on the payroll." Anyone Tony counted among his friends back home, anyway, cashed a regular cheque for the trouble. It wasn't a perfect system, especially when one found oneself disconnected from the bank account. "You seemed to piss off Tommy quick, so maybe don't try whatever you did there again."

"AH, a fact I well know," Reeve laughs, shaking his head. But alas, there is no money here to be had. "However I don't find that gifting people things for their connection to me has worked very well. Sometimes, people just like you for you."

In fact, he might give a pointed look at the sundae. Oh Tony, he likes you for you. As for the name Tommy, Reeve looks.. confused.

"Tommy?"

He barely even remembered the boy.

There was plenty to like about Reeve, so Tony smiled more naturally back at that laugh and muttered, "Yeah, maybe," as though he couldn't imagine what that was like, maybe Reeve should try it sometime. At Reeve's glance to the treat Tony may or may not have brought for him, Tony looked idly away, like there was something interesting going on at Mini's table that caught his attention first. Tony knew what he was worth, and it wasn't his winning personality, so it would embarrass them both to pretend otherwise after Reeve got that frustrated with him.

"Yeah, the--" Tony started, only to laugh with surprise at the idea of Tommy not even leaving an impression on Reeve when the kid had made a whole judgment call about him. "The kid with the white hair. Seriously? Am I about to find out you're bad with kids? I'm having revelations about you at this table, I didn't even know you."

The problem was that Reeve absolutely found Tony's personality winning, his mind captivating, and his presence charming. Even frustrated he still was fond of his friend.

"Oh. Him. We talked briefly about hydroponics. Unlike you, I was not capable of making the parts needed. I suggested asking people to share replicator rations to make what we could. When he mentioned it on the network... Well, I saw him get into some arguments over it. After that he yelled at me."

Every now and then Reeve found some of his papers thrown around, no doubt out of annoyed spite. But Reeve took it in stride for the misunderstanding. The young man never gave him a chance to deal with it.

"I haven't had much of a chance to work with children, save Marlene and Denzel."

That knit together some pretty vague details that Tony had gone into the hydroponics thing with, and he found he still wasn't all that engaged with the minute dramas that erupted around the Young Avengers as long as they kept resolving so easily--Reeve hadn't and wasn't actively pestering Tommy, it was just the usual bullshit. Tony still couldn't imagine what part of that interaction had made Reeve of all people the Judgmental Asshole, and was content to just keep that as information that might be helpful later.

"Cloud can't be that much older than Tommy," Tony pointed out, because it sounded like Reeve must have known the guy a few years. It was either that, or a very intense couple of months. "The two of you make it sound like you were picking him up from daycare." Work with children was a turn of phrase that had Tony eyeing Reeve more curiously, though, because it made the soft exec story a harder sell. Quieter, like it was more to himself, Tony said, "I think I have kids in mind when I'm developing anything going out to the public," brow furrowed thoughtfully. Surely, a city could be built without too much of that kind of consideration, but Tony continued, "Even the colour of the--" before realizing he hadn't really talked to Reeve about the Iron Man yet, and had to redirect closer to home, "the Tower, Stark Tower, building in the middle of the city..."

"I cannot say for certain how old this Tommy is. However, Cloud as I know him is twenty-four. Which means he's about twenty-three right now. And has been through more trauma than I know how he can handle."

Reeve sighs as he considers the problem of Cloud. They cared for him so much, and he didn't dare share that his friend was sick. Deathly so. And the only certain cure was unobtainable.

"Vincent, meanwhile, is roughly sixty, last I bothered to check."

Wait, the color of Stark tower.

"What color is your phallic homage to yourself, Tony?"

That was a little older than Tony had guessed Cloud's age, generously, he realized, so maybe Reeve really didn't know what to do with anyone under 20. He scoffed but dismissed any questioning about the noise with a shrug and fond smile, realizing he kind of missed having the guy around, too. Hopefully, whatever this mysterious coma was didn't get him before whatever the mysterious disease was did. Vincent's age was more of a surprise, though Reeve had hinted around it before, and had Tony muttering, "You'll have to get me his skincare routine. Is it dermaplaning? Couldn't really get into it, you know, a guy is sensitive."

He was cut off from talking to himself with another snort, eyebrow raised in disbelief that he would be getting that old trick from Reeve, of all people. Maybe he thought it was somehow cuter, coming from an architect; post-ironic. "You tell me. You seemed to find it pretty inspiring, too," he purred.

“His skincare routine is not something you would want, even if it were possible to replicate. Which I pray it cannot be,” Reeve admits quite frankly. It’s... a whole thing involving possible demonic possession and being tied to a means of destroying the world.

As for the other... Reeve knew as an architect that when non-architects designers, or a building was built by a man for his ego, it often became phallic. Truth, simple as that.

“You strike me as steel and glass with a gold cast to it.”

He remembers the metal mask.

Even talking about Vincent was inexplicably spooky and mysterious--that was the kind of thing Strange said about weird shit they found carved into walls. Tony raised a lip in displeasure at the phrase, sensing magic all over it.

Of course, Reeve didn't take the bait and instead made Tony feel a little like he was having his palm read, making him shift unconsciously protectively, both arms folded on the table again. It was just a colour scheme, and not a particularly unique one at that, but Tony still bit his lip around a private smile before he could accept, "Yeah, of course. Couldn't just leave it all grey, could I? Now, gold, that's powerful, that's a gilded knight watching over the city."

Less magic, more immoral scientific experimentation. Him and Cloud alike.

“See, I’m more a fan of glass and steal,” Reeve laughs. “But you’re a flashier man than that. I can appreciate it.”

His style was more sedate, because he believed in form and simpler beauty with it. If he could, though, he’d incorporate more plants, more green. And yes, spare him jokes about bushes around his tower.

“Is that what you see yourself as? A gilded knight? Then why the red?”

Tony wasn't sure he necessarily outflashed Reeve, he had seen that city, after all, they just took different forms, so he offered a skeptical grin and tilt of his head. But he tensed then, pressing into his arms and the table, not following where Reeve got the 'red' and asked, "What?" He didn't think he had been that obvious. "Not myself," he tracked back, looking offended by the assumption, but constrained by his own protective hug that he had to release his hands from to better express himself, tenting them both on the table. "The Tony Stark brand is not suitable for public consumption. The--the Tower, with the company and the Avengers, they live there, you know about the Avengers, right?"

"Your mask. At that lovely ball in your head. Red and gold. I assumed the colors had relevance. And since you mentioned one..."

His mind inherently went to the other.

"No, I am not aware of the Avengers," Reeve admits. Tony is the only one from his world that Reeve has spoken to with any regularity. "Truthfully, Tony, you know far more of me than I do of you."

"Oh." Tony was frozen for a moment, mouth shaped around that realization, right, the mask, he hadn't really thought about that, it was just there, in his head. It was hard to recall immediately, the whole experience a difficult to pin down dream, what else he might have revealed there without realizing it. Fact was, that Reeve didn't know so much about Tony was mostly by design, and Reeve never seemed that interested so it wasn't a particularly strong armor that Tony had built; he wasn't as prepared as he should have been, then, to bluster his way through this conversation.

The Avengers, at least, were always easy to talk about. Skipping over the mask, and brightening just for the opportunity, Tony asked, "You haven't met Steve yet? He's--the big blonde, and Bucky, the one we found with Cloud. They're both part of a team called the Avengers. And the kids--you know, Tommy, and his brother--god, you really don't talk to anyone, we need to get you out more. Okay. The Avengers are a team of superheroes who came together to handle the problems no one of them could solve on their own. Every one of them is extraordinary, and have sacrificed their lives to this cause, so--so I do what I can, there's not many people who are in the position to bankroll a project like that."

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