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carriage

WHO: Tony and open!
WHERE: Around Temba (hangar, fountain, ???)
WHAT: Doing some personal cleanup since the storm, and running into a floral distraction
WHEN: End of November/beginning of December
WARNINGS: It's a Tony post, we all should have expected it would get horny. It did.

a.The city had felt imposingly massive since the storm. Then, it was because of its depths and shadows, harbouring fears that only gave way to complex secrets as the clouds cleared, but today it was purely a problem of traversal. The hangar, looking slightly battered from the weather itself but not nearly as poorly treated as the ships finally returned inside, most of them still caked with mud and brought limping to roost, was approximately eight lightyears from the forge.

At least it was a fairly straight shot, but Tony felt half crazy by the time he came shuffling into the echoing space, the wheels of his cart dragged through the cracked roads rattling with a cohort of pebbles caught in their works, and abandoned the thing which felt like it had grown steadily heavier on this trek with a drop of his good arm and heave of a sigh. Gathering his energy again, he straightened to hug is arm cradled under the other, still wrapped and immobile against his chest, leaving his sleeve hanging empty, and headed for the Bloodsport to collect what remained of his onboard from their journey. There were tools there that had been sorely missed at the forge, and a variety of acquisitions from the Agrii cargo bay under Sundance's guidance, and a silky quilt that had Tony sitting in the doorway of the ship with it pulled up over his head, eyes closed and legs kicking idly, looking bruised and exhausted and trying not to look at the cart for just a minute while he meditated on his next move and definitely wasn't just stalling.

b. Most of the D.A.T.A. points had gone dark some time during their venture out to space, or, more likely, the storm that had seeped into all of their works. With the forge back to working order, it was time for Tony to address this problem, which it turned out he had made a rather large one for himself. The closest camera was installed near the fountain, though, and might have been the most important, to alert Tony to any new arrivals, so that would have to be his first stop to see what damage was done. They were all going to have to be upgraded; Tony wasn't going to be able to spread himself across the city to repair every one of them every time one of those storms hit. With his cartload of tools from the hangar, he would have to investigate the generator, surely flooded from the rain, and likely dismantle the watchful orb to find out what exactly had been burnt out in the overload from the storm's energy.

c. It definitely wasn't only the storm that had changed the charge of the city, though. As the skies cleared, it became obvious that the air had grown colder and crisper, and in the days that followed, the chill seemed to settle and harden the ground. Tony would have said it felt like autumn, but the alien plants didn't quite change the way they would have on Earth, growing brittle in the cold but without the warm oranges and yellows of a fall in New York. Instead, new plantlife seemed to have sprung up for him to notice on his long haul with his cart, giving him the good excuse to abandon it occasionally to crouch carefully at the side of the road, stiff in his bandages, and pluck up the young, frosty cyan buds that had started growing there. A few had flowered already, their petals petite but vibrantly blue, and smelling sharply spicy like cloves. He kept stopping to collect another, telling himself to deliver them to someone like Tommy to confirm that the smell didn't mean they were poisonous, maybe they were edible, and maybe this new growth meant that feeling that creep of ice on the air wasn't as much to worry about as Tony was starting to think. A winter couldn't be too harsh if these flowers were flourishing here.

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It was possible that the offer was entirely altruistic, but Tony didn't know this guy who was trying to touch his stuff and paused where he was as the armored man followed, hovering over the generator hugged tightly against the wall in the dark, dusty room and watching him closely again. "That's bold," he complained, and tapped the heel of his hand against his bound shoulder to continue, "I'm a little sensitive right now, you know, a hand could go a long way, and you come at me like this. Cute, very cute." After a beat, he added, "You could pick that up for me," with a nod toward the generator, not particularly heavy but awkward for Tony to carry with the camera, "leave the wires."

The ARC Trooper did notice the hurt arm, which was partially why he asked. Who knew how long a small maintenance operation would take while injured? And, in a way, Tony reminded him of how some of the clone troopers acted whenever they were told to go see the medical droids or the clone medics for care.

"Anyone in medbay would've been trying to tie you down to a cot right about now," said Echo as he went to fetch the generator. He made sure to take care with the wiring, leaving it alone and loosely coiled for later use. "I still would've offered even without the injury. How long has your arm been like that?"

"Is that a promise? Should we head over there right now?" Tony pouted hopefully, but with the man accepting his task so easily, Tony was already heading back out the door into the brighter light to work. When he was there and considering the least dirty place to plant himself on the ground, he started again, his tone really sounding like he was about to give a straight answer, only to say, "Only since I started to learn Judo," and took the chance to flex boastfully with a crack in his straight face, "really changed my whole routine, I'd recommend it, great for maintaining definition."

It was when he sat, slightly awkwardly as he manoeuvred his balance to not compress his ribs or twist his shoulder too much, and had stretched his legs out into the road before him, that he did finally provide, "Couple days. It's fine."

Echo should have caught on to that line of thought. Thanks to being slightly oblivious and busying himself with the generator, lifting and bringing it over for Tony once he stepped outside again. "Judo, huh?" Under the helmet, the corner of his mouth twisted slightly as he saw the flex. "Looks like it's working for you."

Setting the generator down, he straightened up, briefly stretching his shoulders back before letting them go slack. His head swiveled to glance at the man now that he was seated on the ground, giving a nod when the real answer came up. "So long as you already had it checked out." A beat, and maybe a touch of concern followed that note. "Someone did see to that, didn't they?"

It wasn't clear to Tony if this stranger had some inscrutable intent behind the line of questioning, was trying to get Tony to assure him they did have reliable medical care in this place, or was genuinely concerned for the well being of the guy who just walked up on him. That last one didn't seem likely. He watched the man skeptically, trying to read that impassive helmet, before replying, "Of course, smooth sailing. Doc said I was the best patient he ever had, gave me a lollipop and everything."

The armored Neighbourhood Watch had done his first job without complaint, so Tony tried, "Bring me that," with a tilt of his head toward the cart he had abandoned, gesturing to bring it into range where he could reach as he cracked the orb he held cleanly in half in one hand. Giving him no room to argue, Tony continued abruptly, "Plastoid." That was the word Poe had given him for the armor when Tony had asked about it, and Tony was pretty sure that's what he was looking at. "You're not from Earth," he elaborated, if that was any context at all. "Did Judo make it all the way out to you there?"

His brand of seriousness combined with the vocabulator mod in his helmet did complicate the matter, inclining his head a few degrees at the response.

Funny how instantaneous the command came up. Echo didn't seem to mind, however, since he was there with time on his hands. Turning to get the cart, there was a visible pause at the 'Plastoid' tacked onto the request.

"...Yeah. I've never heard of it," he replied once a little more information was available. "I figured it was a form of exercise or training when you talked about routine and definition. And it's Echo, by the way."

"Copy that, Private Echo," Tony accepted as he gutted the camera as best he could with it cradled between his knees and one working hand. "Tony Stark. You can call me Tony. That alloy, your armor, it's not something we have where I'm from. What d'you say, I show you some Judo, you show me what you're working with?" With a wave of his hand and roll of his eyes, he added, "When I'm back in fighting form, obviously."

Not that this necessarily had to slow them down. "I did learn from Cap, though. You want a master class, you ask that big, beautiful blonde to throw you around sometime. The one with the arms. You know him if you've seen him."

Straight to the point this time. Like Tony, Echo couldn't get a better feel for how the man's thought process went, but he was following pretty well for a first meeting. "Well, obviously," he nodded in agreement. "I'd be up for it. Just promise me my armor won't end up in more pieces than it already is."

He picked up his blaster, setting it across the top of the cart so that he could pull it over to its new spot. "I don't think I've run into him yet, but I'll keep an eye out." The cart was then swiveled into place. "How's that?"

"You're a natural, look at you, you've done this before," Tony purred as though Echo had done something incredibly impressive for him and he wasn't just trying to distract him long enough to take the blaster for himself, since it was looking so abandoned there on top of the cart, hoisting it up by what he might have called a handguard on a more familiar weapon. It was lighter than he expected, making it feel about as real as it looked; like an enthusiastic kid had designed a watergun. Distracted as he examined his new acquisition, Tony muttered, "Why, is it already in a few too many? I know a guy, fix you right up."

The ARC Trooper clicked his tongue the second he realized his blaster was being handled and examined – kind of like the last time when Sundance and Cayde found it and the latter decided to test it out to see if it still worked – shaking his head with a quiet sigh.

He then broke the seal of his helmet, lifting it off of his head and tucking it under an arm so he could frown openly at Tony. "Careful with that," Echo warned, but Tony probably knew what he was doing. Maybe? He wasn't so sure. "Who is it? Maintenance is next on my list for both, but I haven't gotten around to it just yet."

Did he look more or less like he knew what he was doing when Tony ejected the clip just to give it a sniff? He knew he wasn't going to find gunpowder there, this was some kind of energy weapon, but he couldn't figure out what exactly he was tasting that would justify a beam having a magazine system in the first place. That would have to wait, because Echo was actually taking off his helmet and Tony had to give him a dazzling grin for that as though he didn't even register the frown, greeting, "Hey, handsome."

Who was capable of doing maintenance for Echo was a fair question, Tony might not have given the impression in his careless dismantling of his camera that he should have been trusted with anything, and it wasn't like he was offering, but his smile still dropped for a pout instead at that dismissal. "I know, plenty to keep you busy around here, it's like a playground, hardly know where to look next," he said with negative enthusiasm, spinning the clip he still held loosely in his hand as though he didn't actually have about eleven thousand things on his to-do list. Recovering from his rejection as quickly as it hit him, he explained, "His name is Cal. He'll know what you're working with here, he's a sharp kid." And probably from the same dimension, if Tony was triangulating the data correctly, but he would let Cal decide how much he wanted to reveal.

So maybe he should have rescinded the thought that this man knew the proper way to handle blasters that shoot plasma bolts. Thankfully, that all derailed when he was called handsome. Echo arched a brow, the corner of his mouth barely twitching at Tony's greeting. "...Hey."

Because what else could he say to that???

He did note the pout again, snorting softly at the response. "I wouldn't say you're wrong, but I figured you were busy." Case in point being the camera in hand. Or arm. Oh, but Tony knew Cal. Unless there was more than one Cal running around Temba. "Um." His brow lifted slightly, letting his gaze drop for a moment. "Well. I think I may already know who you're talking about."

That was a surprisingly bashful response to have about the mechanic, making Tony's fiddling with the alien gun slow to watch Echo inquisitively instead, searching for where that reaction was coming from. Maybe the data should have pointed to the two being even closer than the same dimension, maybe this was another situation where a couple of new Temba residents already knew each other, because Tony couldn't imagine Cal making a bad impression that quickly. Alternately, "Yeah, listen, he's very cute, I get it, he's got that whole kind of dorky sailor thing going on, like you know he lifts but he probably also knows some showtunes, that type, but I have it on good authority that he's already been married three times and all three of them are," Tony gestured with the clip across his throat, mouth twisted to the side, "so, between you and me, do not pursue, keep your distance." Three was definitely excessive, Tony should have reined it in, but maybe he would luck out and Echo was terrible at determining how old someone could be.

To be fair, Echo could have bought it. Tony had flair with his words, so the portrayal was pretty convincing if he had never met Cal to begin with. "–All right, now you're really pulling my leg." The clone tried to maintain his composure as he tapped his finger at the space in front of him, not bothering to hide the smirk forming on his lips. "I'm very sure he's a Scrapper who travels around with a little droid."

While it was clear Tony had gone overboard, it wasn't so obvious which part of that had tipped Echo off, so Tony double down with a meaningful gesture with the magazine still in his hand, but biting his lip to stop Echo's smirk from cracking his own. "Where d'you think he got the droid?" he said as though he had blown the case wide open, and clicked the clip back into place with finality.

He replaced the blaster back on the cart to free his arm for rooting around the loose tools there, producing a screwdriver that looked like he could make work. "If he can't put you back together, I'm sure my assistant could squeeze you in. I'm not cheap, but we can work out a payment plan, instalments, you know, you keep the line open so you can be available when something has to be carried around or...shot at, I guess."

It was the way he said it that made Echo laugh. A brief laugh – one that allowed him to relax a little more as he rested his hands on his hips. "Okay, c'mon. Possibility's there, but who's to say BD-1 really was found in a scrapyard?"

He felt a little more relief flood back in when the cartridge of his blaster was snapped back into place, nodding as Tony continued without missing a beat. Although the wariness was still present, there was a cushion of trust that formed due to having Cal as a connection. "If he can't," he echoed, "but that all sounds fair enough to me. Better than Cayde's idea of payment, anyway."

"What do you owe Cayde?" Tony asked, looking genuinely slightly horrified by the idea because debts to Cayde sounded like they would be paid in a lot of regret. As long as he was trying to get Echo to believe his tales, though, he continued very seriously, "You haven't taken your helmet off around him, have you? He needs to eat brains, to remind his body to continue to develop cranial tissue. Like a zombie, kind of. We've been making him live off of those rodent things, but you be careful, he gets weird when he's hungry."

Whatever smile was still present fell lopsided, and Echo's brow creased slightly. "He almost made off with my blaster after I asked him for his help in locating it. I did say I'd pay him back somehow, but I'm still figuring that part out." he said, letting his gaze become lidded as Tony regaled to him Cayde's lesser known zombie motives. "Unfortunately I did remove my helmet to have a drink at his bar. Does that mean I've made myself a major target?" Again his brow arched. "And when is he not weird?"

"Huge," Tony replied solemnly, eyes closed with a small shake of his head as though Echo had just disclosed a terminal condition. "You should try to keep a few of those animals on you whenever you see him now, just in case." The production wasn't so easy to maintain as Tony tried to contend with Echo's next question, though, making him try to suppress a snort, badly. "Does he sleep? Maybe then, maybe if he sleeps, he can be less weird for a little while. Bet he looks so peaceful, like a server shut down for maintenance."

Echo nearly matched Tony's expression, the wrinkle on his nose visible as he kept a straight face. "I'll keep that in mind." Imagining Cayde noshing on random creatures was a thing he never wanted to picture, but there it was.

Although that was a good question. He thought about it. "I don't know. I guess it's possible, but I've never seen him sleep," he added with a shrug of a shoulder. "You ever ask him yourself?"

"Listen, that's an excellent thought, I appreciate the problem solving," Tony said as though Echo had proposed an ingenious tactic, "but I'm picturing how that would go, and he would definitely think I was coming on to him. Which, honestly, fair." Hand to his heart like this was coming from a very sincere and sensitive place, Tony was willing to admit, "I'm a curious guy. But, you'll never believe this, he's not into that, shuts it down. Can you imagine? Terrible taste. Guess that's how he eats those things."

The more Tony spoke, the more Echo felt like he wasn't supposed to know this information, and it was hard keeping a straight face when the conversation veered into the casual ridiculousness it did. "Maybe if you worded it differently?" he tried to suggest, like tossing a dart haphazardly at a lopsided dart board. "And, well, Cayde's pretty straightforward from what I've seen, so that's not surprising..."

He shook his head, seeing the similarities in how they were getting on and off tangent. "Was there anything else you needed in the meantime?"

Tony was still smirking with his head cocked like he was considering very seriously how else he would present this sensitive matter to Cayde when Echo made his offer, making him glance around like he had missed something, his eyebrows crawling up in surprise. "Uh...you weren't out here for me, were you?" he asked. More pointedly, "What were you doing?"

"Patrolling." Echo sees no need to make up an extravagant excuse. "And from what I've seen so far, there's not much to look at. But I'd consider this meeting's gone well enough to be a highlight for the day."

Patrolling was vague, but Echo wasn't wrong about the scenery; the biggest threats were unstable architecture, not anyone in the city with devious plans to watch out for. The general survival tasks were taking up their time, if that was the case. Tony didn't think this interaction was being assessed in any way, though, making his look of surprise tinge warmly at Echo's conclusion, mouth slowly opening but with apparently nothing to say for the first time in his life.

Not that that could last very long. "Uh, yeah, sure, glad to be of service," Tony tried to downplay how flattering that was, because surely Echo didn't really mean it like that, he was just kind of a nice guy having a boring day. "I think I'm good here. Unless you want to find me a hot tub and a qualified masseuse."

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on_repeat - 2020-12-23 02:46 (UTC) - Expand

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carriage

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I am sorry if this posts twice idk what's happening

I only got one notif for this, dw be weird again maybe :|a

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