revivalproject | On the Prowl

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On the Prowl

WHO: Jon & OTA
WHERE: Around the Agrii Ship
WHAT: The Archivist is hungry and prowling an alien space ship on the hunt for wild tape recorders ~~and your fear~~
WHEN: Late September
WARNINGS: None yet.

Ever since the Agrii have been rescued and the Graq returned to their own home planet, things have calmed down more or less around the large ship the Agrii have been staying on and that is still on its way back to Agra 10, where, in all likelihood, they are expected to resume their rebuilding efforts.

And yet way too many questions remain, at least for Jon. The Archivist has spent a lot of time asking their alien captors all sorts of questions and not always has received satisfying answers. But as the weeks pass by and he finds fewer things to ask, Jon’s curiosity is slowly replaced by something equally nagging: Hunger.

It’s not an unfamiliar feeling for Jon, though it’s also not one he finds himself entirely able to ignore. He has lost enough weight as it is and while the turtlenecked poncho-like piece of clothing he has picked up on their brief stop and has come to wear around the ship to feel less cold makes these things less obvious, Jon at least remains aware that it’s not entirely healthy.

And so he is wandering the large ship, eyes and ears open for the familiar sight of an outdated tape recorder or the unmistakable whirring noise of one.

A - Mess Hall

The mess hall is a place for food, right. Not quite the food Jon consumes anymore, but he has tried a few of the offered items - Only to be met with an atrocious taste.

Though the mess hall is also a place where people met. And talked about stuff. So chances are that one of those curious recorders might be around, quietly recording away one conversation or another. Which means Jon is more or less prowling around between the tables, head cranes forward to peek under the various tables and benches and counters.

“Excuse me...” He mutters distractedly while moving past someone with their tray of food.

B - Medbay

Another place Jon suspects, or at least hopes, to find a recorder in is the medbay. It may not be as much of a social place as the mess hall, but people still pretty much talk in there. And that’s not rarely important talk. And probably quite to the liking of those curious little devices.

So he pushes the door open cautiously and peaks as well as listens around for a moment before stepping inside and into the center of the room, simply letting out a sigh at the lacking presence of a tape recorder.

C - Engine Room

The engine room is an unusual place for the Archivist to show up in, and it’s not entirely intentional to begin with. He just finds himself wandering in, then notices the large core set in the middle of the large room and stops short, staring for a couple of moments in blinking silence.

“.....Jesus Christ.” Is all he utters before slowly backing towards the exit again.

D - Anywhere Else?

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The cargo bay seems to vacillate between busy and not; at least, for the times the Soldier visits, it's either bustling with activity of people working on the ships or shuttles, or quiet and all but abandoned. While able to fit himself well enough into the first — there is a plethora of work available for a man with enhanced strength — he prefers the second for his own purposes.

Currently it's quiet — a "night" cycle, or whatever passes for night on the ship — and the Soldier has commandeered the cargo bay as a workout station. Running laps, doing pushups, practicing knifework; with neither sparring partner nor proper equipment there's only so much he can do, but he's determined to make it work.

He'll not stop Jon from entering, but he'll also not stop his own activity until or unless Jon makes to talk. After all, the man could be deep in thought, or just wanting quiet, and he'd hate to interrupt that.

Night or day aren't things that matter much to Jon anymore either way. Not when he hardly sleeps as it is.

Heading into the cargo bay is, admittedly, a bit of a long shot. But without any luck elsewhere, it's where the Archivist eventually ends up. Initially, he entirely ignores the presence of the only other person in the place. Which is less because he's intimidated by the man, but rather because Jon isn't very inclined to disturb him.

Jon's way brings him straight up to the shuttles they have initially arrived in and he spends a good amount of time strolling around each of them before doing the same with the consoles set up throughout the room. To no avail, unfortunately. The Archivist is left as empty-handed as he has been upon entering the bay.

With a quiet frown on his face and his hands tucked away in the pockets of his pants, Jon makes to leave the place again, but then stops, casting a quick glance over to the other man - It can't hurt to at least ask, right? Right.

"... Excuse me?"

This was an unusual place to find Tony. It wasn't somewhere that he was much help, either to anyone looking for medical care, or for the people stressed about their suffering; he was not a caregiver, in either sense, and he had his own role to put together the puzzle of the mystery of the engine, and their greater purpose here, to help ease that stress. He was solving the problem, just not here.

After Bucky woke up and Cloud didn't, though, and after Reeve expressing how disconnected he was without his friends, Tony was sitting on an empty bed, legs crossed and chatting idly to Cloud's still form, his hands working meticulously in his lap at something he clearly didn't have to focus very much on. It was Tony that was talking in the medbay, his voice carrying across the room as Jon peeked in, but it wasn't particularly important talk, he would say; he was barely listening to himself. "And, listen-" he was mumbling, not quite looking at Cloud across from him, "I'm saying all this, but don't take it the wrong way, I'm not trying to guilt you into waking up. Unless that works, in which case, you're welcome. I'm just saying, he's not crying about it or anything, but it's hard to admit when you're lonely. Especially when you're a billion years old like he is, he's supposed to be used to it, life is lonely, don't be a pussy about it. If you could get over whatever this is, your little hibernation cycle, what are you, recharging that dim bulb? Are you going to wake up and be able to carry a conversation? Please."

Jon just came waltzing into the middle of the room, and Tony stared at him, voice slowly petering out, busy hands slowing, then shot a look Cloud's way again like he was commiserating with the comatose man over being so rudely interrupted.

Edited (busty? BUSTY?) 2020-09-26 01:59 (UTC)

Tony certainly was the last person Jon had expected to find in the medbay of all places. And he didn't even notice him right away, having deliberately tried to tune out any other noise than the one he had hoped to encounter.

Only having heard part of what Tony had told Cloud, Jon cast a look from Tony to the yet unconscious body and back. "He still hasn't woken up, has he." Jon observed pensively. He had yet to figure out how Cloud could simply vanish from the bridge with everyone including Jon himself in the same room.

He remained where he stood for a moment longer, fidgeting a little at the awareness that he was clearly interrupting something. "-I'm sorry. Didn't mean to--" He gestures vaguely towards the two men. "I'll be on my way."

All of Tony's combined medical expertise had got him as far as no, still not awake, so he didn't have anything else to offer to Jon's observation but a pout Cloud's way, dropping his head in his hand with his arm propped on a knee like this was exhausting. That Jon had found Tony talking to nobody present and decided that meant he needed the privacy to do so wasn't surprising, but still made Tony snort fondly, then continue in Cloud's direction, "Now, Jon, opposite problem." He was just keeping Cloud abreast of the important news aboard the ship. "Look at him. Adorable, obviously, and thinks we all don't notice, then takes any opportunity to sneak off on his own and get into trouble. The second you weren't looking, just about got himself killed."

Glancing back in Jon's direction with a slow smile, sure that wasn't enough to keep him from slinking away to be distractingly weird around someone else, Tony added, "Hey, boss, been looking for you," as though there was any way to pretend he had been conducting a search from this hospital bed. "I have something for you," was a more reasonable statement.

That wordless response at least has Jon look over to Cloud once more before he makes to turn around and leave as promised - Only to be stopped by Tony very deliberately talking about him. It's with a deep frown of disbelief that Jon turns back to him. "Adorable?"

And that's as far as his indignation gets and Jon is left halfway through a pouting expression at being accused of getting himself killed. Okay. Maybe it's not quite an accusation, but- Jon doesn't have to acknowledge it as undeniable truth, right?

Tony manages to morph that pout into mild confusion when he addresses Jon directly and Jon blinks once and slowly walks over rather than leaving. "...for me?" Has he possibly found one of the recorders while sitting here, talking to Cloud?

That was easy. There was this new development of people insisting Tony didn't have to give them things, but it continued to be incredibly effective, making Tony sit up straighter again with a smile as Jon slinked around and was transformed by curiosity, like a fickle cat. It might not have been nearly as welcome as a treat, but Tony brandished what he held in his lap with a practiced grin--that fell into a frown as he quickly retracted the offer to blow the fine dust off of the gift from the careful sanding of the connection points he had just been doing with the paper in his other hand--salesman's dazzle back, offer flat in his palm, Tony excused, "Piping hot, fresh off the production line." It was a slightly domed disk that fit easily into his hand, ringed with plastic tubing that was filled with a liquid casting a familiar green glow. When he gave it a shake, it completed the connections to the meticulously knit array of LEDs under the tinted casing and threw a surprisingly potent green radiance up to the ceiling. "It's a--" Nightlight sounded condescending, right? But it couldn't exactly be called a flashlight, it wasn't nearly strong enough. "Reading light," Tony settled on. "For when you're doing whatever it is you do down in that basement."

And Jon has been among those reminding Tony that gifts aren't a necessity. That he doesn't need to try and buy him. And yet there are different types of gifts as well as different ways to interpret them. Which is one reason for Jon to at least give whatever Tony is presenting to him a look. And at first he has no idea what he is even looking at. It's certainly not a tape recorder. "Uh..."

But then Tony shakes it, causing Jon to take a step back at first, then looks up at the sudden light in surprise. In a good way. "Oh- That's--" It's a light, indeed. Jon has to give a little laugh as he catches himself again and tips his attention back down on Tony, maintaining a small, bemused smile. "In case you knock out the entire city's energy again? Not that I hope you do, but... That's very thoughtful of you." Tony yet remains one of the very people that are aware of how Jon feels about being stuck in complete darkness. And darkness as it is isn't necessarily bound to blackouts. "Thanks. I appreciate it." Jon says, now moving closer to stand before Tony to reach out and lightly touch his chin to allow himself to press a gentle kiss to the Tony's cheek.

Thoughtful was not something Tony was often accused of, and he had an image to maintain, so he winked an eye shut and tilted his head like he would lean away from Jon's kiss, like he was embarrassing Tony in front of his very lively friend, and muttered, "Yeah, well, bound to happen," as though he was only covering his own ass for when he inevitably caused more power trouble. The performance only cracked briefly for Tony to quickly return the kiss to Jon's temple before Tony was back to looking haughty and put upon for the attention. Alright, it wasn't a very convincing performance.

"I used to have a, uh..." Tony started to explain, tapping his chest, but Jon had seen that gory mess and the battery Yinsin had hooked him up to, so he took his chance not to go into detail again. Instead, he held the light there, over his heart, and continued, "'Bout this size, and mostly it was a nightmare to live with, I had to keep it charged and couldn't tell anybody about it and--awful, but it did glow and that was, uh, nice." Why was he telling Jon this? He gestured for Jon to take the light already and tried for another disarming smile, forget about it. The point was, he had found himself caught in the dark more often than he liked recently, and knew the feeling.

Lucky for Tony, Cloud remains out of it. And while Jon frowns a little at those pretended display of denial, the frown softens with the crack in Tony's grasp of his public image.

Right. They will have to work on that.

But not right away. Not when Jon's attention is drawn back to the light and Tony giving him an explanation for its inspiration - And he does well remember the state of Tony's chest and that heart Jon wants to wrap up safely and keep away from further harm. "Jesus..." Is all he mutters as he reaches towards Tony's chest first, but merely lets his hand hover before it before giving a small nod and taking the light into his hand, inspecting it and turning it around. "...like having a constant nightlight with you..." Yes, he goes there. But it's the first thought that comes to mind.

"Did it hurt...?" Jon then asks carefully, casting a glance back up at Tony and off the light now resting in his hands.

Confirmed, it did sound condescending out loud, but made Tony smile because he replied, "That's what I called it." He slouched back on his freed hands, not quite relaxed with his shoulders up still somewhat defensively, but he was trying. He still started with a blustery, "What, when I fell from heaven? Not a bit. Controlled descent. Never needed wings anyway, please."

Truth was, it still felt like it hurt, and Tony wasn't sure if that was just the new scarring, or just trauma from living with the pain and shortness of breath for a decade. What he said, with an apologetic tick in his smile for the teasing, was, "Some days were better than others." It couldn't have been that different, Tony figured, from losing a few bones, or drilling worms out of the muscles, so Jon didn't really need an answer from Tony, he reasoned. "Get what you came for?" he redirected, tipping his head to where Jon had lingered in the middle of the room.

That initial mock response gets a bit of an indignant huff from Jon and he is just about to roll his eyes with a sigh. Though he is willing to forgive that when the actual reply, compact as it is, gives him a clear enough answer. Right. Jon can understand that. His own scars can be sensitive some days and itch on others.

So he simply nods.

Jon is still caught a little off guard by the redirection and shifts in place a little uncomfortable for a moment while looking in the direction Tony indicates. "O-oh... Right. I mean... I don't-" He takes a breath. And shakes his head. "No. Not unless you found a tape recorder while you were here..." He doesn't sound very hopeful and also hasn't heard one click on while in the room. "I'll... I'll keep looking."

It would have been a very dire situation that Tony had missed and Jon wasn't telling him about, he thought, to lead to Jon misplacing his tape recorder, and Tony held him in a skeptically narrow gaze to make sure that wasn't what he had just suggested to Tony, before breaking that cold calculation abruptly to glance idly around the room. Tony had seen those randomly appearing ones himself; that seemed more likely. "Not on me," he said, then cocked his head with a question, because he didn't think he should have been expecting one to appear without Jon around. That was very much a personal problem, not a community one, he had understood. More importantly, "You didn't bring snacks this time," he surmised, viciously burying the regret that they hadn't started this journey together to deal with later, like when he was dead. He had a more immediate problem to fix.

"I did!" Jon protests, though there is a hint of guilt in that stubbornness as well. "I just... I didn't expect us to be gone quite as long, and.... I... I suppose I neglected... gathering...." If Jon is entirely honest, he hasn't really been harvested any tapes since before they went into the tunnels. The weeks in there have plain left him overloaded and barely able to hold everything in. And then the debacle at the forge happened, leaving Jon with no appetite and no mind to be bothered with food.

He gives a little shrug, now turning the light in his hands. "I'm taking care of it, I promise." A pause, and Jon quickly adds: "Ah-- W-without hurting anyone, of course!"

For a moment, he was back under Tony's skeptical scrutiny, 'without hurting anyone' hard to believe since Jon didn't need such a dire excuse to use his power on Reeve, and the last time Tony knew Jon was hungry, he had gone all spooky-glowy. Which made Tony clear his throat, shifting in his seat to swing his legs over the side of the bed, because that had definitely only freaked him out and not awakened anything else questionable in him that probably needed professional intervention, then he brightened suddenly to ask, "Do you want to?"

The details were still unclear to Tony, and he wasn't that interested in decoding the magic, but as far as he had gleaned, Jon didn't necessarily need the tape recorder if people around him were spooked enough. That sounded like a fun way to spend an afternoon, for a good cause.

He's pretty sure that Jon is just going to go about his business, take a tour through the empty space and leave again, so he's rather surprised when the other main hails him. The Soldier flips the knife over the back of his palm, catching it and stowing it in its sheath before straightening and looking at the other man.

"Yes?" he replies, rolling his shoulders back and forcing himself into a more casual posture.

"Do I want what?" Jon asks, partially dreading the answer before cautiously inquiring further. "Are- Are you asking me if I want to hurt someone...?" The answer to that is obvious enough in his face and the way the Archivist almost appears to shrink where he stands while wrapping an arm around his own middle. He slowly shakes his head. "No. I... I hurt too many already. Hunger, anger... Christ. At first it was because I wanted to do my job! ...and for a long while it was curiosity of all things." Before he learned what those nightmares truly meant. It's what still sickens him. His willingness to experiment and knowing that there is indeed a part of him that wants to go hunting for suitable victims.

"It's still bearable." Jon tries to assure Tony, but can't quite bring himself to raise his eyes back up from where they have dropped to the floor.

It was possible Tony could have bridged those thoughts more articulately, because he found himself sliding to his feet to try to explain, "No, not--necessarily, just--," with his hands up, curled into claws, like he was about to pounce. Minor scares, was all he meant, get the adrenaline pumping, but it seemed he had already done that to Jon and started a spiral. Tony dropped his hands limply, that was a bad idea, fair, then reached to pluck Jon's away from his body to stop him from shrinking any more.

"Hey, no, don't do that," he said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to--bring all that out. You've got weird shit going on that you didn't ask for, it's got side effects. If you lost your teeth, I'd chew all your food for you." Maybe not literally, but Tony grinned hopefully, brow still furrowed with concern. "Look at him, how do you think they're feeding him? That's got to suck," he pointed out, gesturing to Cloud and not really wanting to think about what the onboard Agrii solution to the problem was.

Jon isn't really inclined to put up a fight, so Tony meets no resistance when he goes for his hands. He kind of understands what Tony has been trying to suggest, but- That wouldn't have worked. He knows that much by now. He has been able to keep the Eye somewhat satisfied by catering to its curiosity. By learning new things and studying the Agrii, their technology and by now also the Graq.

"I'm sorry..." Jon mutters at Tony's words, still well aware that Tony doesn't like to talk or even think about anything to do with his magic. And yet that comment about chewing his food? That gets a tiny chuckle before Jon allows the topic to be directed towards Cloud and he can offer a more scientific answer. "Feeding tubes. Not... Not very different from the ones we use on Earth. But-- Maybe a more acceptable way to consume what the Agrii serve for food."

Pushing his luck, Tony kept tugging at Jon's hand until he was close enough to wrap both arms around his neck, letting them weigh heavily as Tony tucked Jon's head under his chin, folded around him as long as he was going to be small and apologetic because of something Tony didn't think about before he said it. Maybe that would make it clearer, see, at least one of them wasn't holding all of that questionable behaviour against Jon, even if Jon wanted to feel guilty about it. That kind of guilt was very hard to shake, Tony knew that intimately well, even if he didn't think Jon's was particularly well earned.

"Gross," was what he had to say about feeding tubes, biology only slightly less offensive to him than magic. "Not my style, I couldn't hang around here for so long if someone was was feeding me with a tube. Coma over, not worth it." Flippant, but not entirely irrational--something innocuous had brought Bucky out of it, and that couldn't even be rationalized away by him being a supersoldier, because they both were. "Maybe no one else is coming to talk to him," Tony muttered. Steve had been dedicated to keeping watch over his partner, that was different. Tony had been sitting in here pondering that problem for the better part of an hour already, though, so it wasn't completely effective at distracting him from Jon's, and he tipped his head slightly to lower his voice as he continued as though he was still talking about Cloud, "Have you tried watching the videos?"

Jon's behavior is often a little bit weird, but this prowling is a little more unusual than normal, and Billy's arches a brow with an amused look.

"You good, Jon?" he asks, sure the man had barely even taken note of of when he muttered his apology.

Letting himself get tucked in like that, Jon releases a drawn-out exhale before following with a deep inhale, letting himself and his fretful mind be soothed by the action.

"Comas are not something that leave you with much of a choice..." He mumbles into Tony's chest, his face just about turned enough to have an eye on Cloud himself, contemplating the man's situation. "I was out for six months... Stuck in that rotation of dreams I have inflicted. Until Oliver Banks showed up. Told me... I had to make a choice." And a choice, he made.

He lets that hang for a moment, then tilts his head a little more to peek up towards Tony. "...what videos?"

Despite some less than pleasant encounters with knives, Jon manages to ignore the small weapon and approach with steady footsteps.

"You don't happen to have seen any tape recorders lying around, have you?" The question is presented carefully and without any compulsion to it.

Tony leaned back to better meet Jon's eye, searching for confirmation that Jon had no clue what he was talking about. "In the theatre room," he tried to elaborate. It wasn't like going to witness those atrocities was a great group activity, but Tony had been pretty sure he wasn't the only one not sleeping and cataloguing them, hoping to find more answers, like from the record from Agra 10. He gave himself a final moment to stroke a hand through Jon's hair and down his neck before giving a nod as though in farewell to Cloud and angling them toward the door to lead the way.

In the meantime, he said, "So, we have to get in touch with Oliver," because Jon made it sound like there was some agency in the coma status. Elaborating probably wouldn't be that useful for Cloud, but might shed some light on what kind of choice Jon was talking about for Tony. He thought he had witnessed those dreams for about six seconds, so six months made him keep Jon close even as they made their way into the hall, not quite holding his hand but restlessly touching his sleeve and his back as they walked.

"Oh, B-Billy!" Jon exclaims, turning at the familiar voice with a look of surprise on his face. Surprise mixed with a hint of embarrassment. He really hasn't recognized Billy - At all.

"I- I'm... Good. Yes. I'm good. Just..." He gestures around vaguely. "Looking. You know..."

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On the Prowl

D; because I DO WHAT I WANT

That's what it's there for!

Nyooom Medbay

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Since when do I play by the rules?

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A

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