revivalproject

Entry tags:

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.

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It wasn't that Tony had somehow deluded himself into thinking he was good at running his whole life. He did know that Pepper and Rhodey ran the company more than he ever did, and Jarvis ran the house, and Tony mostly was in charge of making sure he occasionally got some sleep, and wasn't great at that, either. But if there was one thing he had plenty of practice at, he thought, it was putting on a show. Throwing a party should have been second nature; he had that mask on practically every time he talked to someone. Party planners were for busy people putting on large events, it was a problem of scale.

This confidence was gone by the time he was calling Tommy to join him in the mess hall, where he had pushed a few tables aside to the mild annoyance to the few Agrii that lingered there at this hour, and dumped a handful or iridescent plastic shards that could have looked like glitter onto one of them. This was not a party. This was nothing. "I don't have the right perspective," he said to Tommy, standing pensively by his poorly decorated table, one hand on his hip and the other in the air, trying to capture the correct line of thought. "This is about bringing people together. Sharing. I'm an only child."

The disembodied voice that had made its announcement over the main systems certainly hadn't sounded official in any way. It reminded her of how Cayde would abuse the Tower broadcasting system every so often for things like when he misplaced his Sparrow. The parting words had definitely brought up questions.

Unfortunately she had enough of those, and far too little answers. The ship she'd found herself in was of unfamiliar make and design. The four-limbed pink creatures she'd found in abundance were not Fallen and their language resembled nothing of Eliksni. So when a voice had spoken up with actual words she could understand, some hope bloomed. While she'd argue she was doing very important things, this happened to overlap such interests. People were gathering. People that might have answers.

Pulling up a map of the ship's layouts was easy enough once she'd accessed the computers in that unique way that Ghosts do. She made her way with haste, cutting down corridors and around corners until she came upon the aptly named Green Room. For a moment she simply stared, and for all that she had no particular facial features, one could practically imagine the dry look it would have held then. Her vertices twitched slightly as she took in the scenery, a tiny, star-shaped being just about as long and wide as one's hand, dwarfed by the greenery surrounding her.

Sansa doesn't particularly want to go to a party but it is a change in routine so she's at a party. She has a dress, because she always has a dress, but it's one of her modest ones from home and it's in black. She'd favored black in Westeros over the last several years and she imagines she needs to favor it again - black is her mask, part of her identity now. Still, seeing what has actually been done to this room makes her think she ought to have gone lighter, possibly floral. James wears a onesie and busies himself with tugging at her hair.

The datapads have descriptions on them and she looks through a few before she finds "Someone who is a mother" and she knows it belongs to her. There's no other mothers on this ship.

"At least I'm known for the one thing if nothing else," she says, hitching James a little higher on her hip so she's more comfortable. "You seem to define me now, little prince."

This wouldn't normally be Wanda's thing but being left alone with her own thoughts sounds even worse, so here she is. She's wearing one of the dresses she picked up on their 'vacation,' made of a fabric that can't seem to decide if it is gray or lavender or pale blue. She could have picked something more formal, but she can fight in this dress if she needs to.

She doesn't think she'll need to, but she doesn't feel safe here. Not when someone or something snuck in and stole (or is it kidnapped?) the singing core right under their noses.

But even that doesn't diminish the massive soft spot she has for Sansa and James. Laughing, she comes forward and sweeps Sansa's hair back over her shoulders, away from the Baby Danger Zone. "There, that's better." She grins. "All of these lights and he still wants your hair."

Raphael wasn't sure what to make of the invitation. It sounded suspicious enough to him. But then it was also Tony making the announcement. He had no idea what the last part was supposed to mean, and it wasn't like he owned much by way of clothing anyway. People clothing definitely wasn't sized to consider a shell. It wasn't something the turtle teen dwelt too much upon, and he eventually made his way to the Green Room, if only for curiosity's sake.

The last thing he'd expected was some sort of party set-up. He hadn't really ever been to one outside of the family celebrations they had back in the sewers, and those weren't all that decked out. It was nice to hear some music at least, even though his tastes were more for heavier tones and beats, but it made him realize the things that were taken for granted back home.

He almost laughed in disbelief of the karaoke machine that occupied one area of the green space, but what really drew his attention was the sundae bar. "Cool. Wonder if Catra's around," he mused aloud as he looked around for the catgirl. It was difficult enough trying to explain ice cream, but if this was for real, it'd be better to have her experience it for herself. "...I just hope it doesn't all taste like peanut butter and jelly."

Wanda's taking a little breather - it's not a huge crowd, but she still needs a minute to try to sort through the psychic feedback and let it pass over her. And it's then when over the edge of her cup she catches sight of a...well, she doesn't really know what to call it. A droid?

Whatever it is, it definitely looks aware...or Wanda's about to look like some kind of complete idiot talking to the decorations.

She approaches cautiously, not quite sure of the little droid's intentions or whether or not she should expect it to be able to understand her or speak. "Hello?"

The little shape hovers and flits about between tables, eyeing the setup not without a bit of scrutiny, if indeed that glowing blue center serves as an eye. She pauses and turns just as Wanda nears, considering for a moment. Her rear half twists just slightly as though to further convey her curiosity.

"...where is this?" The voice is feminine, slightly tinny in the way one might expect of mechanical beings, the question straight to the point, however not too insistent in the delivery. There are too many unknowns to consider, and she decides not to jump to conclusions, although she suspects humans to naturally originate from Earth that she can skip that sort of confirmation.

Delectable. That's not a word Jon would ever even consider for himself. Not that he owns anything to justify such a description. The clothes he has arrived on Agra 10 with are clearly worn down after all these months and what he picked up on Risa has been similarly in functionality and style while clearly alien in origin. And then there is the somewhat odd selection of clothes he picked up on their little pit stop that fall more into a comfortable vacation-esque category. Though as little as Jon tends to bother about fashion, at least he is very certain that he won't be dragging that large, red robe Tony left to him around for this gathering.

What he has settled for - or rather: randomly picked - is what may be the plainest grey sweater he has been able to find on that alien planet. Comfortable, warm and he can make various layers of additional clothes vanish underneath.

So far Jon has been wandering the setting and studied each of the datapads, unsure what to make of them yet before picking up an off-green sundae that somehow tasted like someone tried to emulate coffee with comparably little success. The attempt at consuming the treat has been put on hold when Jon started look through the list of songs on the karaoke machine idly. Which he will stop without picking anything when someone else approaches to offer the remote to them instead. "You can use it if you want."

"You're on the Agrii ship, with other people who aren't from here," Wanda says simply, taking this new development in stride. She's not unused to talking to AI, after all, although the cute-little-hovering-shell thing is new. "We're travelling back to their planet. They told you nothing?"

The glowing blue light remains fixed upon Wanda at her response for a while before turning to look off to the side as she lets this information sink in.

"I was informed of nothing," the Ghost finally replies, turning back to face the woman. "One moment I was in one place, in the next, I was here aboard an unknown ship. All traces of the energy signature I detected had vanished almost immediately within that short span of time."

She turns in midair again, simply suspended there without a waver. "I have never seen these...Agrii before. All non-Agrii have been brought by the same method?"

Edited 2020-09-28 05:26 (UTC)

Frankly, any time Stark was going to make time for Tommy, he was going to be there. Even if he wasn’t trying to get Stark to teach him things, he Was still an Avenger, and when told to show up, he did. So here Tommy was, appearing in an instant, his presence and the way it affected the air in the room blowing some of the pathetic confetti away.

“Have you tried standing on your head?” He asks. Clearly he’s not serious, but he asks it anyway. Still, he is silent for a while until he finally tilts his head to the side and shrugs.

“Listen, I’m an only child too, even if I spent some time with the Kaplans and Billy’s younger brothers.”

Still, he doesn’t much know what to say.

“What are you trying to achieve?”

"We were. I don't know what brought you here, but it is probably something like it." Maybe it's the ship's new core, maybe it's not. Someone smarter than her is going to have to do some prodding at it; all Wanda knows is that comforting psychic presence is gone.

She tilts her head at the little floating droid. "Are you all right? I haven't talked to anyone who came here since the...since the change."

Billy's younger brothers likely had a very different idea of what made a good party than Tony was hoping for, but he didn't feel like he had a lot of options on board; everyone else on this ship would have no idea what Tony was actually saying like Tommy should, being both from Earth and understanding who Tony was, as a brand, and not a completely tragic nerd, when he explained, "I'm trying to throw a party." His gesturing hand had gone to his beard, scratching restlessly and making him mumble largely incoherently as he complained to himself, "Theme, music, guest list, all nonsense right now, can't even approach those, I don't have the right pieces."

"Change?" she prompts, with just the slightest twitch of her points. "...I don't feel...not all right. This is an unusual circumstance. Normally I'm not apart from my Guardian."

This situation is more than a little frustrating. She's unable to determine where she is in relation to any known worlds, and who knows what sort of trouble Cayde's gotten himself into without her. The Ghost bristles a bit at the thought.

Oh, a party. Yeah, he can do that. Tommy's grinning now, and ignoring the little bits and pieces. So, the question is what he's supposed to do with all of it.

"Well, really the party you have depends on the space. We doing it in here, or somewhere else?"

Narrowing his eyes inquisitively, then glancing around the space, not sure how that was even a question, Tony eventually had to ask, "Is there somewhere else everyone can fit comfortably?" This was the one part he thought he had nailed down, the mess hall was designed to fit a lot of people at once, it was the practical choice. He might not have had a lot of options to arrange a large gathering, but even Tony knew the cargo bay was not a great atmosphere for a lively mood. The view out to the stars was pretty nice, though.

"The thing that brought us here was stolen. The thief could be using it from far away, or maybe the new core is something more than it looks. We don't know what happened yet, or why." It's very frustrating that even on her second time being kidnapped like this that she doesn't have many answers. But everything had happened so quickly and there was no time for Wanda to try to commune with the baby planet before everything went to hell. "I am sure Stark at least will look at it before we leave."

Her tone softens. "But don't worry - some of the people here are strange but no one is going to hurt you."

From the way her topmost point seems to shift downward ever so slightly, it almost appears like a look of disapproval, a mouthless frown. "Interesting. And concerning. To what purpose?"

The Ghost assumes this Stark is a person, and from the implication, someone who knows their way around technical devices. Her angles and edges relax again as she emits a sigh.

"I'm not worried. Not about that." She probably should be, but it's not her priority at the moment. "Have you seen him? He is difficult to miss. Not that he makes it a point to be ignored if he can help it." She pauses. "...you're unfamiliar with Ghosts," she belatedly realizes. The way the woman had approached her had been hesitant, although perhaps not completely unusual. Humans did react differently to the little Lights. "Or at least speaking to one. Are there no other Guardians here?"

What, here? Tommy looks around in a disgusted manner. This was horrible. Again he looked back to Tony with an expression of ‘really’?

“Dude, doing it here would be like having a party in the fucking Whale Comb area on Temba. No one would want it. You don’t party in places that are familiar, that are common. There’s a reason clubs are in their own spaces, or people have parties at other people’s homes, or in warehouses, or on beaches. Fuck, man, you need something different.”

There is a lot of thinking he’s got to deal with. So venue...

“Too bad there isn’t a nice observatory area. Oh well, come on. We’re going to go look.”

He offers his arms to Tony. Yeah, come on, it’s a ride.

"The Agrii brought us here to save their home. The thief..." She shrugs. "Sick entertainment?" It might not be the whole reason, but it is definitely a contributing factor.

Wanda thinks for a moment and sighs. "I know a lot of people who sound like that, but no one who calls themselves a Guardian. But--" She does remember Cayde mentioning something about a ghost that isn't actually a ghost the first time they met. "Are you from the Earth with the...giant floating alien eyeball?"

Sorry Sundance, Wanda was on the other end of a Cayde Explanation.®

"Absolutely not." There were still not enough of either substances or broken bones involved to be seen being carried around the ship by Tommy, but Tony did understand the need for efficiency and had a much more elegant answer. He led them back to the doors of the mess hall, where one of the consoles linked throughout the ship stood, and they could both see the map of the whole structure as Tony called it up and gave it a cursory rotation from a few steps away. See, it wasn't that he didn't fully understand that the mess hall wasn't an exciting place, but the next largest room in the blueprint was the med bay, right out, and... "Green Room has a nice view," he muttered, hand back in his beard and not looking convinced. He hadn't lingered there very long himself.

Oh come on, Stark, way to be a coward. But he follows Stark around briefly to see what is going on. But when he sees the display he grins.

“Oh fuck yeah, we’re SO about to redefine a fucking Garden party. Okay, venue. Come on, let’s see what we’ve got to work with. You didn’t see it as much as I did. We’ll need to figure out music and where people can dance.”

An unusual way of asking for assistance. She isn't sure what to make of the sick entertainment, however. In but a moment those matters take a temporary backseat.

Sundance stares hard at Wanda then, and suddenly she's nearly in the woman's face. "He's here then." True, her Guardian can't possibly be the only one who's called the Traveler the giant floating eyeball, but she's running under the assumption (too many of those, she reminds herself) that if she's here, then he must be.

All at once she backs up again, the glowing blue core glancing askance as she processes the things Wanda's just said. "Are we not from the same Earth? You're not from the Last City?" That's a confusing revelation, which just adds further concern to the mystery of how someone has been able to bring them here.

Tommy's thrill made Tony snort a laugh, grinning back around his hand with a calculating squint, not sure if a 'garden party' was really Tommy's style if he was going to put it that way, and if that meant they were already set up for a disaster. It wasn't like Tony was going much better on his own, though. "Hardcore," he agreed blithely as he made his way out through the hall and toward their potential venue.

Music had been one of the problems jamming up Tony's gears, because it wasn't like the Agrii seemed to understand the concept, and Tony wasn't sure how quickly he could teach a group of them to bang even semi-rhythmically on improvised percussion based on what a struggle the handshake thing still was. He tried to explain this to Tommy as they went, arguing that enlisting any of the He Rows to put on the show would basically gut the guest list; there weren't enough of them to justify the loss for the very meagre return.

Music, huh? Tommy considers it as they walk, and before they even reach the Green Room he shifts to walk backwards in front of Tony to speak to him. And show off of course.

“Can you code a synth? Or some music program. Just something that lets me make different tones and all that on a musical scale?”

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salon

pre-party // for the twins

Eeevent with surprise guest? OTA

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OATS I mean OTA

Sundance!!!

:D

Event || ota

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XD

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