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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.

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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."

Nope, none of those names really spark a sign of recognition in Reeve beyond a passing 'I've heard the name.'

"Bankroll? I'm shocked to hear that a man such as yourself would not wish involved. Though I suppose it would be something that would put you at horrible risk. Geniuses don't always mesh with the throwing punches crowd. Gaia knows I likely would not have had a place among the others had I joined them in person, no matter how good with magic I turned out to be."

And thus Cait Sith had been, well, in some ways his equivalent of the Iron Man armor. His way of being with them when he could not be there himself.

Maybe Reeve was still palm reading a little bit, but Tony could easily bury his defensiveness under a snort and questioning furrow of his brow, because Reeve couldn't just say things like 'a man such as yourself' like Tony was supposed to know what that meant. "Stubborn, or egotistical?" he guessed, but got his answer quickly-- "Oh, vain, sure." Most people would agree that he was vain enough to want to be in that kind of spotlight, but not nearly enough to risk a broken nose; that was obviously why he kept his poor bodyguard in the Iron Man, glory by proxy without having to risk his face. He was still grinning when Reeve had finished and he could explain, "I think I'm involved, they live in my house, I make sure they have everything they need and get to make their gear, what else could a genius ask for?"

It had seemed to Tony in anyone's telling of the tribulations that happened on Reeve's planet, that Reeve had joined them, and he came to the only logical conclusion that he had available to him, "Wait, Mini did all of the adventuring?" Granted, outside of the city being crushed by a meteor incident, he wasn't clear on any of the details.

"Not Mini. Cait Sith. He traveled with them, starting as a spy for Shinra controlled through me, though with a lot of independence. So more Mini's older brother. I've never traveled with my friends, save an incident with Vincent."

He's so sorry that he had never done it. Never stood truly at their side. And that makes Reeve sighs.

"I was isolated from them."

Edited 2020-09-26 01:58 (UTC)

That was an easy gambit to get back to talking more about Reeve than Tony, but it didn't feel as worth it in the weight of that sigh. Tony took a breath like he had something to say, only to touch his tongue to his lip, not sure how to offer how much he understood that feeling without the better context, and deciding it didn't even matter that he understood. It wasn't like he had a solution. Instead, he nudged the glass of slowly melting mystery treat closer again to Reeve, then turned in his seat to curl a hand over Reeve's shoulder, wrist to his chest, to weigh him down and lean him into the kiss Tony pecked against his temple. "Here you go," he pointed out with a grin, "Another incident." Another chance to maybe not be so isolated this time. "Got all the help you need, right here. I've been known to put on a memorable party. I don't remember most of them, but that's a--I'm working on that."

He pulls the treat closer and frowns at it before looking to Tony.

"Are you suggesting a party?"

How long has it been since he's been to a real party? The arrival back to Temba after Risa doesn't count. He sort of... excited about the idea. How silly was that? Yes, Tony, they could ALL use a party.

Tony hadn't really expected that to go anywhere, rather that Reeve would have begged off elegantly, insisting on his comfort being with intimate meetings with close friends or whatever ornate way he would have to phrase 'hanging out'. That Reeve seemed to engage made Tony raise a curious eyebrow with a lopsided smile as he slouched back in his seat. "We're overdue," he pointed out, in case he did have to sell this any more to Reeve. "Somebody has to show these guys how to put on a real soiree," he continued, tipping his head to indicate the Agrii around them. "And maybe I'll let you lead this time."

Frankly, Reeve will probably linger at the edges anyway. It's just who he was at this point in his life. But the energy would be nice. So he smiles.

"Oh no. I think your arguments over who leads will have to be with Jon, Tony."

He's pretty sure if Tony dances with him, his head will be literally bitten off instead of figuratively this time.

That wasn't a fight that Tony wanted to revisit so soon, so his grin hardened around the edges as he considered his options, and decided that might be his cue to exit. Shifting to the edge of his seat, he said lightly, "Honestly, would be very surprised if he could dance a step, so that wouldn't even be an argument. You still get to lead, old man." With a flash of his fangy smirk and a wink, Tony gave another pat to Reeve's shoulder in farewell and slid out of his seat, already sauntering his way out of the cafeteria when he called back, "I'll send an invitation."

"I'll hold you to it," Reeve sighs as Tony retreats. Yes, he sees it for what it is. And then turns his attention to the treat.

God he misses his friend.

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