Tony Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
in_extremis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2020-09-26 08:38 pm
in_extremis) wrote in revivalproject2020-09-26 08:38 pm
Entry tags:
- destiny: cayde-6,
- ffvii: reeve tuesti (crau),
- marvel comics: billy kaplan,
- marvel comics: tommy shepherd,
- she-ra: catra,
- star wars: cal kestis,
- the magnus archives: jonathan sims,
- voltron: keith (dfau),
- †: game of thrones: sansa stark (dfau),
- †: marvel comics: tony stark,
- †: mcu: wanda maximoff (dfau),
- †: star wars: ct-1409 echo,
- †: star wars: poe dameron,
- †: tmnt (2012): raphael,
- †: voltron: pidge gunderson
salon
WHO: Esteemed, invited guests (everyone).
WHERE: The greenhouse
WHAT: A party! And not the kind of crime that the Agrii commit. Come show them how it is done.
WHEN: During a very long and slow space trip.
WARNINGS: Mark your threads if you get into trouble.
pre-festivity...network?
[Over the shipwide broadcast system that everyone is lucky Tony has not made more liberal use of, accompanied by gently dimming lights as though signalling intermission was coming to an end, and Act II was about to begin.]
Your attention, please. Please give me attention. You're not doing anything important, I know you aren't, so if you would kindly make your way to the quote-unquote 'Green Room', the rest of us are waiting for you.
Wear something that makes you feel delectable.
[Did he have to say it like that? Of course, he's trying to set a mood.]
the event
The atmosphere of the Green Room, which had at other times been a battleground, and a quiet resting place, was what could be called a soiree. Some of it was magic, brought to brief reality by Billy to disappear as the get together came to an end like carriages into pumpkins as their clock ran out, and other things were altogether different kinds of illusions. Like the tree Cayde had worked to fell, hauled up off of the ground to brace in the branches overhead, its dying boughs slouching down toward the ground in winding tendrils that were strung with glittering lights, a fragrant curtain around the area conveniently cleared by the destruction of the tree to give plenty of room to pull a partner into a dance. The music, naggingly familiar to those who called Earth home but distinctly synthetic, was playing through the broadcast system, loudest near the clearing and progressively softer the further away from this hub, but continuous throughout the ship until it felt like a whisper from another room at the farthest points like the cargo bay.
The noise competed slightly with the raucous beckoning of the karaoke machine installed near one end of the Green Room. This corner felt like it hadn't quite received the dress code, dotted with balloons and nearest to what could be described as a sundae bar, with what looked like all of the right textures for a very indulgent ice cream experience. The Agrii were more than happy to help with the food, so be prepared for a less obvious flavour profile.
More (potentially?) savoury options were offered throughout the Green Room, in no centralized location but spread across tables that had obviously be borrowed and dragged from throughout the ship, flanked by equally mismatched seating, flat-enough surfaces, or piles of linens and pillows where the ground was less even. Some of these tables had a datapad left on them, locked to a curious list that could only be checked off and not otherwise tampered with, at least for those not particularly technically inclined. Each item seemed to describe a person, all following a similar format in various levels of complexity, starting simple with, 'Someone with hazel eyes...'
One of these datapads, on a table tucked under a heavy lattice of vines and under the drape of what looked like approximately 40 metres of a sheer silk, started the evening much more blank, only marked at the top with a bold WHAT WE KNOW. That was a broad statement. Surely, everyone had a little of something to contribute to an article like that.
WHERE: The greenhouse
WHAT: A party! And not the kind of crime that the Agrii commit. Come show them how it is done.
WHEN: During a very long and slow space trip.
WARNINGS: Mark your threads if you get into trouble.
pre-festivity...network?
[Over the shipwide broadcast system that everyone is lucky Tony has not made more liberal use of, accompanied by gently dimming lights as though signalling intermission was coming to an end, and Act II was about to begin.]
Your attention, please. Please give me attention. You're not doing anything important, I know you aren't, so if you would kindly make your way to the quote-unquote 'Green Room', the rest of us are waiting for you.
Wear something that makes you feel delectable.
[Did he have to say it like that? Of course, he's trying to set a mood.]
the event
The atmosphere of the Green Room, which had at other times been a battleground, and a quiet resting place, was what could be called a soiree. Some of it was magic, brought to brief reality by Billy to disappear as the get together came to an end like carriages into pumpkins as their clock ran out, and other things were altogether different kinds of illusions. Like the tree Cayde had worked to fell, hauled up off of the ground to brace in the branches overhead, its dying boughs slouching down toward the ground in winding tendrils that were strung with glittering lights, a fragrant curtain around the area conveniently cleared by the destruction of the tree to give plenty of room to pull a partner into a dance. The music, naggingly familiar to those who called Earth home but distinctly synthetic, was playing through the broadcast system, loudest near the clearing and progressively softer the further away from this hub, but continuous throughout the ship until it felt like a whisper from another room at the farthest points like the cargo bay.
The noise competed slightly with the raucous beckoning of the karaoke machine installed near one end of the Green Room. This corner felt like it hadn't quite received the dress code, dotted with balloons and nearest to what could be described as a sundae bar, with what looked like all of the right textures for a very indulgent ice cream experience. The Agrii were more than happy to help with the food, so be prepared for a less obvious flavour profile.
More (potentially?) savoury options were offered throughout the Green Room, in no centralized location but spread across tables that had obviously be borrowed and dragged from throughout the ship, flanked by equally mismatched seating, flat-enough surfaces, or piles of linens and pillows where the ground was less even. Some of these tables had a datapad left on them, locked to a curious list that could only be checked off and not otherwise tampered with, at least for those not particularly technically inclined. Each item seemed to describe a person, all following a similar format in various levels of complexity, starting simple with, 'Someone with hazel eyes...'
One of these datapads, on a table tucked under a heavy lattice of vines and under the drape of what looked like approximately 40 metres of a sheer silk, started the evening much more blank, only marked at the top with a bold WHAT WE KNOW. That was a broad statement. Surely, everyone had a little of something to contribute to an article like that.
no subject
And none of them are normal when compared to each other, so ha!
"Normal blows."
no subject
"Fair."
And then he snorted a small chuckle through his nose.
"Yeah, that's one way of looking at it."
Once he understood things about himself, Keith didn't mind being different so much anymore.
no subject
Because Tommy was pretty sure he conclusion was the best one there was.
no subject
"Normal is just normal. The status quo. What's expected. It's not good or bad. It just is. It's what people perceive as being normal that kinda messes things up and makes things awkward for people who don't fit into that perception."
no subject
ANd Tommy is SO not average.
no subject
"Maybe." He shrugged. "I'm probably still not normal..."
Keith was aware that some of his skills and abilities were considered 'above average' and 'outside normal levels', but he was also sharply aware of areas where he considered himself 'below average'... and he probably had a lot he thought of that way that maybe weren't as bad as he thought.
no subject
There's nothing beyond his name. It's sorta normal.
"Being not normal, not average, means we get to do and see different stuff."
no subject
Sometimes, it still sounded weird to even himself when he said it.
no subject
"I, uh, might need more info on both of those things?"
no subject
"Yeah... like I said. Not normal. But, uh... back home, I'm part of a team called Voltron. We have massive spaceships that are basically giant robot lions, and they use a lifeforce called quintessence to essentially connect to their pilots." He pointed to the side of his head, indicating the psychic part. "There's this base level of sentience in them, but they're not fully autonomous. They're just... aware. And they can communicate with us. But they still us to operate beyond a few basic tasks.
When the five members of the team are in sync with each other, we can transform the lions and create a single giant robot. Two of the lions are the legs, two are the arms, and the biggest one is the head and torso. Lance and I are both part of that team. Right now, I'm paired with the Black Lion, which is the big one, and he's paired with the Red Lion, which makes the right arm."
Keith then switched a bit, his demeanor changing from mostly business-like talking about the Lions to something a bit softer.
"As for my mom, I never really knew who she was growing up because she left just after I was born. Dad didn't explain it to me, but, once I was out in space, I was able to find her. She'd left Earth because she was undercover as a rebel spy. She's Galra, an alien race who's empire had conquered and pretty much enslaved most of the known galaxy. My mom had become part of a group of Galra who were trying to undermine that empire and right the wrongs being done by the rest of their race. While she was on a mission, she crashed on Earth and that's how she met my dad. He helped her, and, while she was recovering, they ended up falling in love. But, after a small search party of Galra had tried causing problems on Earth, she knew she couldn't stay if she wanted me and Dad to stay safe from the Empire, so she left to protect us."
no subject
"Listen, there's someone here who might get you a bit. My brother-in-law, Teddy? He spent most of his life thinking he was human, or at least a mutant like me. Except it turned out his mom was the princess of a shapeshifting alien race, and his dad was a war hero of another alien race. And neither of them were really that nice to people. But his parents fell in love while her people had him captive and bam, baby Teddy."
So Teddy might get what it was like, to not know your place in the world until later in life.
no subject
"Yeah... he probably would get it," he said. It sounded awfully similar. Not that Keith didn't think his dad was going to keep his mom a secret forever, but things didn't work out that way. Being a firefighter was dangerous work, and his dad had died on the job when Keith was still really young... before his dad had thought him ready to learn the truth about Krolia.
"I mean... he'd be okay with me knowing that?" This Teddy guy wasn't going to freak out if he showed up and started asking him questions about having alien parents, right?
no subject
"I don't know. The idea that he could help someone is pretty high up there for him. And I left out a lot. So it's probably fine."
no subject
Keith didn't want to get Tommy in trouble or anything.
"I mean, if it helps, maybe we should do some sort of introduction."
no subject
no subject
"Alright. Thanks."
It wouldn't hurt to have someone who might understand things a bit more than Lance. While the rest of his friends back home had been pretty supportive when it came to Keith finding out about his mom and all that, Keith still often felt different from them. Like he was still the black sheep of the group. It wasn't their fault. They just didn't know what it was like, and Keith was bad explaining stuff like that to help them understand.
"I appreciate it."
no subject
"Come on, I already told you, didn't I? We're here, and we're friends. And my friends always have us for support."
no subject
"Yeah. It's a good thing to have... and to be."
After all, Keith took his friendships pretty close to heart. He'd be there for Tommy just the same.
no subject
"Well, you're being it now. You've got people here, and that's what matters, right?"
Keith't got people here to hang with him. Peopel who could be a family for him.
no subject
"Yeah. It is."
It had been a hard lesson to learn, but Keith had discovered these last few years that being the loner didn't mean he had to be alone. He was glad for it. He was glad to have friends and people he could call a family.
Kosmo wagged his tail.
no subject
"Well, enjoy the party, right?"
no subject
no subject