revivalproject | treasure

Entry tags:

treasure

WHO: Tony and...I don't know, there's some predetermined stuff, and some ambiguously open stuff in here. Check in at the Shenanigans plotting post if you're feeling unsure and need a formal invitation.
WHERE: The forge, the not-library
WHAT: Tony has a gift for Jon, and is trying to make a much more misguided gift for Poe. Some early speeder bike development catch all, if you like.
WHEN: Early February, Agrii Valentines Celebration
WARNINGS: Glitter?

a. The forge [OTA! If you just want to bring your own project, this is a good place]
The first shimmering fleck that caught Tony's eye fell onto his cheek, making him wink with his face twisted in surprise before carefully retrieving it with a finger pressed to the...plastic? It stuck easily to his skin, but Tony could only frown at it, baffled, and glance back toward the forge curiously, expecting the chimney to be pouring out some foreign element among the plume of dark smoke. He was on his back under the body of the vehicle that Cayde had called a sparrow, Poe had called a speeder, and was probably neither of them, really, as Tony slowly brought it together, the Iron Man kneeling in the grass next to him to Jack up the whole assembly for Tony to rework the fuel array again. Eventually, he would get this thing working.

As more of the strange precipitation began to flurry through the sky, clumping together against the seams of the Iron Man and through the bricks of the forge, Tony had to sit up and consider very seriously that this was...glitter. As he stared at the armor, he could see some of the more fanciful details--the heart shapes, the stars, making him raise a lip in confusion, then glance around again, seeking a source. It just seemed to be, warm and shimmery and catching the early light in a dancing array over the skyline.

By the time the sun had properly risen, he had disturbed Catra trying to sleep by the fire by clattering around in the forge, searching for empty vessels to collect as much of the strange glitter as possible. Impulsively, he had snatched at the bouquet of flowers he found by her head, only to have them burst in his hand and make him yelp, dancing away from the glitter bomb with his hand coated now in pink and red. He was much slower to pick up the card that had been with the bouquet, pinched carefully between two fingers until it didn't seem to be a bomb as well, the Agrii's pictures making him snort. Of course. It went up with the notes from Cayde and Jon that were clipped over his workbench, slouching against Cayde's map and funnelling more of the glitter throughout the day to gather in the folds of Jon's still designs.

By the time he was back to working on the bike, there were bowls and jars arranged against the walls and among the grass, incrementally measuring the shimmering downpour. This was going to be wreaking havoc on any meal production, Tony realized, so Tommy wasn't as likely to show up today, leaving him to grumble at the pile of tools and components that had been left around the weedy patch where he worked without the kid to find anything for him in this mess.

b. The library? [For Jon, but feel free to crash this party]
If Tony was going to try to understand the Agrii, and he would rather not, he hazarded a guess that whatever this glitter storm and gifting was about, it was something of an apology for the storm that they had come crashing into, or the giant pest problem that the Agrii had neglected to warn them about. Maybe that was just where Tony's head was, though, because he had plenty of his own apologies to make, and a misguided gift was historically how he dealt with that. Did he have something in common with the Agrii? Jesus.

Trying not to think too hard about that possibility, he came gliding slowly into the library on the Iron Man's skates, leaving rivulets in the dusting of glitter on the floor behind him. He carried what would have been a familiar shape to Jon, despite being wrapped as it was in what looked like a scrap of leather, against his armored chest; an acquisition from the replicator that he had impulsively requested just after replacing his sunglasses, then finding himself very overwhelmed with the amount of stuff he could really use at the forge. Taking the stairs down into the basement wasn't quite as smooth, producing a strange, very heavy thunk-thunk-thunk as he rolled carelessly down each step, the momentum depositing him against the desk that rattled with the lurch. He didn't really intend to stay, but had a quick look around for the Countess, hoping maybe she would display a tiny bit less annoyance upon seeing him so he could pretend Jon wasn't as annoyed with him as well. Yeah, that would totally work, Tony would feel great about that and all of his problems would be solved. He sighed into the mask when he didn't spot the animal, leaving the book on the desk and pushing himself back toward the stairs. It would be pretty obvious who it could have been from, Tony thought, even if Jon had no context for the author 'Reed Richards'--only a few pages into the forward of this physics text- cum-autobiography and it was already colourful with the caped heroes of Tony's world, and how they shaped the natural laws around them. And the library had just expanded exponentially, even if Jon wasn't particularly keen on the gesture and couldn't be convinced that Billy was clearly being very thoughtful.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Babysit certainly made the impulse to keep Jon from getting his head cracked open sound infantilizing, and wasn't how Tony would have put it, making him hesitate as he stumbled over this new frustration; Jon had proven so far that he was always reliably there to help Tony, whether or not Tony was receptive to his care, so could probably handle himself just as well, but that did make it particularly egregious that Tony hadn't managed to reciprocate. "It was supposed to be for..." he tried again, quieter and with another tap to his chest, because the Iron Man was supposed to fix that, it was supposed to be the best part of Tony, but Jon was still talking.

He left Tony with a challenging question, and no good way to argue himself out of it because Tony hadn't thought he was doing either of those things, and now he wasn't sure if he might have been doing both. Not consciously, anyway, and he could prove it, abruptly pulling the helmet off with a small flourish, see, he wasn't shutting anything anywhere. The bruising from the pressure along his jaw and temples suggesting he might have been in the suit more than out of it lately was traitorous, but the air was already full of glitter and doing half the dazzling work for him, Tony just had to keep talking. "About that. I thought, listen, I could help with that, how hard could it be? I know how to make a lens. I already made you one before, that's still working. I can fix this, too," he said, and lifted the helmet very clearly, twisted toward Jon to show that Tony would put it on him if he was accepting the offer. "A quick scan, and I'll know exactly what you need. The frame's the easy part, that's nothing, I've already got ideas."

Just what Jon is supposed to interpret into the armor at this point he isn’t certain, but the fact that his face does light up once the helmet comes off is undeniable. He may not miss the small bruises, but he’s happy to see Tony’s face nonetheless. And the glitter certainly adds something to the reveal.

Joy turns surprise once the helmet is turned around before him and Tony explains what he intends to do. “I-it can do that? I mean. Check my eyes...?” He manages, his tone baffled at the mere idea. He has considered requesting new glasses from the Agrii, but only found out that he has no idea what strength his lenses need to be. Which has turned his last visit at the replicator into a trip to fetch cigarettes rather than anything else.

He makes no move to stop Tony, should the man decide to go on. Wary as he may be about the armor, now he can’t claim not to be at least as curious about this potential solution to his problem.

Having entirely expected Jon to exclusively be frustrated with him, that joyous expression had Tony breathing an anxious laugh, sure his smile in return was goofier than he had meticulous trained it to be. At least Jon was kind enough to give him an easy distraction, making Tony shake his head, eyes closed thoughtfully; not a denial of the concept that Jon questioned, it just wasn't that straightforward. "It's designed to monitor everything, has to be finely tuned to my reactions, where I'm looking. And I get a lot of concussions," he explained as he very carefully fit the helmet over Jon's head, as though he was still trying not to actually let it touch Jon as much as possible. The helmet definitely wasn't made for Jon, though, so the dragging weight of it jostled awkwardly as Tony tried to hold it in place over his ears, the multitudinous panels sliding under Tony's fingers to try to shift it into something more comfortable and snug around Jon's jaw as Tony read where it touched.

It was riotously bright inside the helmet, even as Tony tried to minimize the noise for Jon, shunting widgets off to his periphery that were monitoring the status of the suit (still angrily red, trying in vain to draw his attention to the BREACH still scratched into its back), the status of Tony (likewise willfully ignored), the meandering atmospheric conditions, lists of codes and names that occasionally flashed or were accompanied by waveforms or tiny videos that must have been a whole array of communications bouncing across the city. "Just try to focus, boss," Tony instructed as he let the ongoing feeds from the D.A.T.A. installations overlooking the streets overlay the wrapping projection of the room they stood in itself, fractured as it was between the information all down the armor's body and its decapitated helmet. That probably wasn't terribly comfortable either. Tony offered a photo he took of the alien sunrise over the softly glowing waterfall on the Graq planet, then the ones he had stolen of Jon in his sleepwear just as the Countess laid her claim on him, with a private smile at the expressionless mask in between them.

Jon wants to express his worry about Tony mentioning his tendency to get concussed, but is immediately overwhelmed by the brightness of the helmet - And all the INFORMATION suddenly surrounding him. Which he all takes in in a heartbeat, making an awed little noise, frustrated only by the bits that remain blurry to his eyes due to his lacking seeing aid.

He tries not to be disappointed when the various feeds and their onslaught of information is replaced by some more serene imagery. And those images all have a very certain sentimental value to them that Jon doesn't fail to notice or to appreciate. They help calming Jon's racing mind from its state of analyzing and interpreting all the data it has been fed with just moments ago, and while a part of him wants that actually controlled stream of knowledge back, another is fixated to glean this much more personal insight on what Tony deems worthy to take pictures of.

"You've taken pictures of me in my sleep?" No, he can't help but chuckle a little when saying this out loud. It's not an accusation, but- Sure he looks ridiculous in these clothes. It would be nice to be able to acquire something that actually properly fits him again. Seeing how even the shirt he originally arrived in Temba with is now hanging loosely around him only makes it more apparent just how thin he's gotten. He should try to change that. Especially since he knows Tony worries about it, too. And it's not fair to make him worry.

The question surprised Tony enough that he froze for a beat, his attempt to process it clear on the display before Jon as he filtered through records of their conversations that might have suggested Jon's sleep, or Tony's pictures, like a rapid text exchange where they organized installing the hammock recently. Of the pictures Tony had taken of Jon, also arraying and organizing quickly before his eyes, he never looked particularly impressed by the invasion, but did at least largely seem aware of Tony teasing him. If it had ever occurred to Tony to take any pictures of Jon in his sleep, he thought, he was always pressed far too close to him for that to be manageable.

"Uh, no," he answered as he tried to clear the screens for Jon again, defaulting to a projection of what he would have been seeing in front of him without the mask with only those constantly shifting reports at the edges of his vision. "I wouldn't want to share that with anyone else. Are you taking pictures of me? I get that, I bet I look stunning in my sleep, this face is a gift. Here, that's probably enough..." The armor eased its hold around Jon's chin for Tony to try to lift it gingerly away again, not sure if he really did have enough information to treat a corrective lens, but it was probably going to take a few tries, anyway.

Seeing the array of things and images before his eyes while Tony obviously thinks deeper than necessary about Jon's playful question, the Archivist finds himself amazed by what it is he is being presented here, maybe not even entirely willingly. And when Tony makes to remove the helmet, he closes his eyes out and holds still to not hinder the other man's actions. Blinking his eyes open again, he finds himself with a small sigh on his lips. "Christ, Tony. I- I still think you need to spend some more time out of that armor, but--" He nods towards the helmet. "This is incredible! I wish my mind and access to the things I should know were half as efficient." Add to that that Tony is a genius. A distractingly handsome genius. The man would make a much better Archivist than Jon may ever be...

"I have one picture of you, Tony. And you took that one for me." Jon offers to the other man's inquiry and lifts up his phone to show Tony its screen, still adorned with that very same selfie Tony has taken those many months before. "I like this one. Still prefer seeing you in the flesh."

With the eyes of the Iron Man going dark an inert, Tony tucked the helmet under an arm and waved the other hand dismissively, eyes rolling as he suggested, "You know, the human brain, not exactly known for being efficient..." This definitely wasn't a Jon problem, but a design flaw in the whole model that Tony wasn't impressed by. Tony was just lucky enough to have some modifications installed; he'd figure out how to more widely offer the transhuman developments just as soon as he solved the little problems like how to return this planet's native population. "We're not evolving fast enough. If we're lucky, our kids are mutants, taking huge evolutionary leaps like Tommy and Billy, but even that, listen, it's random, there's no framework for a functional social structure between them and it can't provide the kind of equality having reliable access to transhumanist technologies would be able to. Just so you could think all of the thoughts that are already there, it's obvious, think of what that kind of thing could do for someone who doesn't have access to basic, expected societal interactions because of cognitive impairments." Which one of them was supposed to be prone to rambling? Tony took a deep breath, but released it with relief to finally get something like that out of his system without Cayde to look at him like he was about to unscrew his head. Which, granted, Tony would like to.

The laugh he snorted was a breathless one then as he finally looked to Jon's phone screen, eyebrow raised at what felt like a different person from an eon ago. Some things hadn't changed, though. "Hey--that reminds me, first of all, I deserve to be photographed every day and you're neglecting me. But--that was, what, a decade ago?" He tipped his gesturing hand from side to side, give or take a few years, then pointed back to the gift on the desk. "And, okay, we haven't been, uh, doing this, that whole time, but it's still--I haven't taken you on a date, and I thought you really deserved that, but how am I supposed to take you on a proper date here? It'd be a table for nineteen, with all of the spiders, it's--not good. And so, I got that, and..." Clearly, it was the same thing as a date, even if Tony couldn't figure out how to keep talking to avoid really thinking about it.

Edited 2021-02-14 01:40 (UTC)

"I know what it does to people in my world, Tony. And it's not pretty." Jon shrugs, but refrains from going deeper into the Becoming of various monsters he has come to know. Instead he nods down towards the helmet again. "I like the layout you have there. It's well organized and makes the data accessible. Quite different from the mess I get when I try to- You know. Open myself. What you get there is more like... Like someone mixing the parts of several puzzles in one big bucket and throws that into your face. It's a mess. And it hurts." And despite saying this, Jon smiles and steps over to his desk at last, briefly brushing his fingers over the fit he has gotten before putting his clipboard down next to it while considering Tony's words while glittering little hearts and stars settle around his hand.

He turns back around on the spot easily, holding out one hand to catch some of the sparkling flurry in it. "Well. The Agrii certainly are setting the mood for a date I suppose. I mean... There is the diner..." Yeah, Tony is right. The options here are... Limited.

Though Jon doesn't lament on that for long as he seems to suddenly remember something and he steps back over to Tony, suddenly looking excited and reaching out to take his hand, armor or not, fully intending to pull him back up the stairs. "Oh! R-right! I- I... I need to show you something!"

Tony might have been too lost in his hurry to justify himself, because Jon left him squinting and trying, "...the brain...?," without any confidence that he had followed what Jon thought wasn't pretty. He didn't get any more confidence despite going, "Oh," as Jon indicated the helmet, what did that have to do with 'people in his world'?, but the rest of that he could somewhat follow. He had seen some of the external evidence of what might have been happening to Jon in those wild notes he had been writing. "Yeah, when you open yourself to a mess, you usually hope it doesn't hurt," he offered blandly, the corner of his mouth twitching only briefly into a smirk. He was already considering the helmet again himself, wondering if there was anything he could do to fix that for Jon, something more like his own system, smirk replaced by a frown at the thought of Jon regularly hurting himself like that.

The flourish of Jon twirling in the glitter caught Tony's attention again, so he wasn't totally caught unguarded when Jon reached for him, watching his glittering hand already with a fond tilt of his head. His eyebrows jumped at the excitement, but Tony was ready enough, the armor slipping away under Jon's hand and opening down the front in a meticulous folding and rotating of metal plates like a complex puzzle. Tony dropped another few inches to the floor as he finally stepped out of it, leaving it behind to stack itself, smoothly and neatly in a soft glow of repulsors, into an innocuously briefcase-sized cube next to Jon's desk, and leaving Tony in his soot-stained sweatpants and glitter rapidly coating his toes as he hurried after Jon. "Am I going to need that?" it occurred to him to ask as they made their way up the stairs, jerking his free hand back toward the suit. "Did you get yourself another pet?"

There may not be much anyone can do regarding Jon's lacking control over what or how much knowledge leaks into his head. It's something he may have to simply learn.

He pauses very briefly at the hand drawing away again, but quickly notices what actually happens and the smile is back onto his face before he gestures for Tony to just follow him up into the large room that makes up the former library itself. "I don't think you will need it." He says while leading the way around two of the shelves and all the way between two at the far back of the room where a large ladder has been set up. Granted, ladder may be a little generous a description, but the thing Jon has cobbled together half consists of what at least may have been one ladder at some point. Though it has been extended through various means to reach to upper part of the massive shelf.

It's that structure Jon gestures up next before climbing the thing himself. "It's up there. Took me a while to notice!"

Should Tony in fact trust the odd contraction and follow Jon up all the way, he will find the ladder itself an adventurous experience, yet somehow stubborn enough to not collapse. Jon himself is willing enough to climb onto the shelf to make room for Tony to discover the old pillow turned into what can only be called a nest up there. A nest occupied by roughly a dozen squirming, palm-sized lumps and a couple of small bones. And Jon is positively excited to present this finding.

The ladder was definitely the first hurdle here, making Tony quite glad that he had left the Iron Man behind because he was certain it only survived Jon's weight because there was barely a whole man there to account for, never mind a ton of armor. If it wasn't for this threatening construction, Tony probably would have willingly followed Jon's rare, gleeful lead into a hole in the ground, but instead he watched Jon climb with his hands up and ready to catch in the impending disaster, his own expression falling. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he hissed up the ladder as Jon pulled himself onto the shelf, "I've got a condition, this is abuse."

He couldn't just leave Jon up there, though, so with a pout of determination, he clambered up after Jon until he was leaning over the edge of the shelf on folded arms, propped up still on the questionable ladder. His immediate reaction was, "Eugh, what the fuck is that?" with his nose wrinkled at the squirming mass and one hand out like he might hold Jon back from it. Jon still looking so thrilled about this development made Tony attempt to consider that this was not just a gross pile of bugs, trying to soften the expression, but he wasn't terribly successful. "Are those bones? Are those carnivorous slugs? I just think you should know, I got a bouquet this morning. I think they might hate you."

Tony's arrival is met with a wide grin and Jon dutifully takes a picture of Tony's face once he spots the nest. He then chuckles warmly and gestures above the squirming creatures without attempting to touch them. "I know they- They take a moment to get used to, but... They have already grown quite a bit? But- No. No, they aren't slugs. Countess should be back any moment - These are hers! She's raising her- W-well. Her babies on this shelf!"

With a flutter of wings, the winged feline does, in fact, appear back in the library, easily gliding through the open doors and landing on the very same shelf with a short trilling noise and a small dead critter between her teeth. She turns to look at Tony for a moment and thankfully doesn't attempt to bump her forehead against his on greeting. Instead she blinks at him once, slowly and deliberately before moving over to the pillow and carefully putting down her catch between the creatures Jon has identified as her litter. The squirming only intensifies as the future mothcats writhe to get their share of the fresh food. Which even makes Jon grimace in response. "R-right. As I said, it- It can take a moment."

The reveal of the camera made Tony wince, leaving his eyes closed while he pouted his disapproval of this development, incensed that anyone would be taking pictures of an innocent man while he was being teased. The pout remained while he raised a skeptical eyebrow, trying to examine the nest more critically and absolutely not more excited by the concept of them getting any bigger like Jon seemed to be. Nor was he thrilled about the idea of even more Countesses around to get possessive about Jon. "You should have told me you two were pregnant, I would have brought cigars," Tony said flatly as he turned to watch the mothcat's approach, looking like some kind of shimmering parade float in the glitter that streamed around her wings, and was slightly surprised by her looking less like she was interested in his innards. Maybe it was just the suit she hated. "Mazel tov," he offered, still deciding if this was a development he liked in their relationship.

Back to Jon, he asked, "Is this what you've been doing with your clipboard, are you becoming some kind of wildlife...?," but wasn't sure exactly what he would call the job of recording alien fauna development. "They do seem to take a liking to you," he allowed with another frown at the squirming grubs, but that didn't always go as (arguably) well as the Countess. There was also the kind that were very keen to get a taste.

Don't pout, Tony. You were the one demanding more pictures of yourself and Jon is trying his best.

Countess has settled with grooming the worst of the glitter out of her wings and otherwise appears rather satisfied with herself while Jon shrugs at least somewhat apologetic. "I have come to believe she may have already been pregnant by the time she decided to stay at the library. And aside from the recent spider invasion it has been a safe enough place for her to stay." And he nods. "I have been keeping notes, yes. It's not an opportunity we're getting often and... It keeps me busy?" It's also something he can do without his glasses. His notes may just be... A little on the big side.

"We can climb back down again, if you like." Jon offers next. "Leave them to their... Well. Meal."

Deciding to make a home in the library after presumably living a fine life, out of sight and mind, because she needed somewhere to have her...litter? Clutch? did make sound logic to Tony, so he nodded slowly for this assessment but wasn't all that interested in getting into the details of a mothcat's reproductive habits. Instead, he was watching the Countess go about her cleaning, and asked quietly, "Should she be eating that?" He had tried to make sure Catra wasn't, anyway, but he suspected getting this animal cleaned would be just as challenging, and Tony didn't know if he was up to that fight.

What he was up to was getting away from the weird worms as he heard a bone distinctly snap, sending him climbing happily back down the nerve-wracking ladder. "If you told anyone else in this place that you were looking for busywork, they'd kick your ass. Are you really that bored? I've got four hundred things you could be doing," he said as he made his way to the ground, then lingered there at the foot of the ladder with his hands up where he might catch Jon in the inevitable collapse of the structure, or just be in a good position to admire the descent.

"Don't worry. It will come out with the hairballs." Jon assures Tony before starting his own descent.

Down always tends to go a little slower, especially with this unique ladder construction, seeing that even Jon himself refers to use it with caution. Which at least means that he doesn't fall - At least not today.

"I have my projects, Tony. Though since most of them require me to see properly, I'm open to suggestions." He replies while making his way down. He's aware that his usefulness is debatable at best. But he reaches the ground in one piece and turns to look up at Tony with a mildly inclined head. "Within reason, of course. I mean- I'm not sure how well my body is taking to the training Lauri has thought up for me, but even if it does, it will still be a while before I can even think about clearing away boulders the size of myself."

Jon could take all the time he needed to with Tony watching happily below, despite the glitter gathering in his lashes at this angle making him blink and shake his head. By the time Jon spun to face him, Tony was grinning wolfishly, what 'suggestions' Tony might have had inspired by the trek evident in how he braced Jon close to the shelf with one hand on the ladder and head tilted with a coquettish flutter of his lashes.

That teasing was easily derailed by the idea of Lauri-Ell doing any physical training with Jon; a severe mismatch in skill, as far as Tony was concerned. "Yeah, you should be leaving that to the boulder-clearing experts. Training?" he asked, his voice just a little higher and tighter than he intended it to be with a suspicious squint of his eyes, that he tried to shake off with a cough, totally cool, he was definitely fine with whatever they were doing together with Jon's body, she wasn't intimidatingly kind and beautiful in any way that threatened Tony. "The fuel," he continued abruptly, at a far more normal octave. "That's something. That I asked you about, a while ago, you remember, the flying bike thing..."

Finding himself trapped isn't the worst outcome as far as Jon is concerned. The fact alone that Tony is closing in on him again also only seems to approve his suspicion that something is wrong with that armor, but at that moment it's rather the tone of Tony's voice that catches his attention, making Jon look up to meet the other man's eyes with a curiously raised brow. Was that a hint of jealousy?

"She is helping me, Tony." Jon decides to clarify, not entirely able to reign in that small bit of a smug undertone from his voice. "She offered to train those interested in it a while ago, remember? On the network. And I- Well. I decided to take her up on the offer. And I'm thankful she's putting up with me. God knows most everyone on this planet would rather train with Steve than some guy hoping to appeal to his boyfriend." He pauses there, letting a little smile tug at the corner of his mouth, one hand raised as if about to reach out and yet not quite daring to do so.

Instead, he nods once. "I've got your fuel."

The rest of those words were supposed to cover up any revealing discomfort, so Jon's expression and insistence on clarifying so pointedly had Tony slightly backing away in defence, hand over his heart instead to scratch restlessly at the threadbare fabric there and trying very hard not to flush too obviously. If he knew he was going to be out of the suit, he would have brought his glasses.

He did remember that offer of Lauri-Ell's, so he gave a short nod, but had quickly dismissed it as definitely not meant for him, after their poor first encounter. Hopefully, Jon hadn't been trying out that teasing about 'appealing to his boyfriend' on her, that would probably sour the mood. "Listen, if that boyfriend hasn't been telling you every day that you're beautiful, he's probably not worth that kind of work," he pointed out, snappy and dismissive with a pout that suggested that may have actually stung a little bit, too. It wasn't like this hadn't come up before. "Uh, but, she obviously knows what she's doing, I mean, look at her, that's...good for you. She's really--she'd like you," he tried, sure Lauri-Ell would handle Jon as gently as she had the flowers in the greenhouse. "I don't think she'd offer if she didn't mean it. No one's putting up with you, and I'm sure watching you do stretches is very engaging, valid return on investment."

Seeing Tony back away has Jon's expression fall and he winces notably upon realizing just what has happened - What he has done.

"Shit, Tony, I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to devalue your words like that. I didn't think and- That wasn't fair of me." Taking a tentative shuffle forward, Jon reaches towards towards Tony's elbow, yet doesn't try to actually touch the man right away. Instead he sighs, eyes shifting away guiltily. "...I... I think I just- No. You're right. It wasn't right to try using you as an excuse for my experiment. I apologize. But I-" He takes a deep breath before finally looking back up. "I wanted to know. If this- If it makes a difference for my body at all. And I thought if it did, you- You wouldn't mind?"

Jon looking guilty and apologetic wasn't a much better expression, especially when he was already looking particularly owlish without his glasses, making Tony try to quickly wave off the apology because he hadn't even meant it like that. At least Jon was distracted from Tony's embarrassment, and his approach was welcome enough that Tony didn't really notice how tentative his reaching was, wrapping both arms around his neck to pull him into a hug before he had to close the distance himself. It might have been a little possessive yet. "No, it's--I'm sorry that I haven't been much--help," he tried to articulate better instead of being kind of an asshole about it. He was working on it, he could be as nice as Lauri-Ell. He might have gone on to try to bury that in more distracting babbling before they started apologizing at each other, but he didn't expect Jon to say 'experiment'.

"Do you mean, like, in general...?" he was distracted by, because that just might have been the way Jon's weird body issue was manifesting and it wasn't completely surprising that he would phrase it that way, but he could have easily meant that he didn't think his body worked like that. Which was...something. "I mean," he managed to catch up, frowning at himself for not taking the easy cue first, "please, as long as you don't expect me to start running with you at 5 AM, I can't imagine any part of your body that I would mind. Maybe ask me again if you're thinking about cutting parts off, I have some favourites."

Being pulled close and into that hug is a welcome change and Jon quite willingly wraps his own arms around Tony in response, allowing himself a moment of pressing his face into the other man's chest and inhaling that familiar scent in that familiar warmth and the resulting familiar security. He has to turn his head a little to the side to give an answer. "I mean that- You must have noticed that I've lost weight here. And I tried eating normal food, believe me. It changed nothing." Sure, he has his tapes to feed himself, but on the long run that's little better than trying to live off cup noodles.

"I... I don't really know what my body is still capable of and what it isn't. I know I still sweat and get tired even though I don't necessarily need to sleep." He assumes it's rather tied to how things stand with his overall energy and therefore it's another matter tied to is feeding. "...but I also feel weak. And I have been wondering if... Well. If my body is still capable of even developing muscles the traditional way." Or if with the entire rest it just comes down to him feeding properly. "Can't say I have an answer yet, but... I at least found the stretching rather relaxing. We could do those together if you like."

Then, he gives a little shake of his head. "...and don't worry. I lost a rib already and it hurt. Pain is not something I enjoy."

Of course Tony had noticed, but Jon hadn't seemed keen on any of the solutions that Tony had proposed so far, and he hadn't had much success conceptualizing synthetic fear to try to fill in that gap. He shifted his hold around Jon while he frowned at this problem, letting one arm drape down Jon's back while the other curled around to stroke a thumb behind his ear while Tony nuzzled his scattered anxiety into his hair.

"Whether or not it is capable, it won't be if it's not getting fed," Tony pointed out. Muscle development didn't happen without the diet to support it, for anyone that wasn't a supersoldier. "So, listen, it can't hurt--Don't push yourself into passing out on me again or anything, but don't get too down on yourself if you don't look like Lauri-Ell any time soon." Tony was having a difficult time imagining that reality, and quickly diverted back to the much more appealing, "You want to show me? I promise, I'll be very professional, I'll only comment explicitly on your ass once. Twice if you hurt yourself. Don't tell the big gal, though, she might not like me knowing her training secrets."

As of now Jon has successfully avoided leaving any of those brought here by their hosts with eternally repeating, terrible nightmares of himself watching them suffer and in a way he takes a little pride in that. In a way it feels like he has successfully avoided to fall to an addiction, though he remains perfectly aware that this isn't an addiction but something he needs to survive. And yet the only times he has dared to go hunt has been when they were on other planets, far away from Agra 10 and leaving him hoping the distance would interfere with the dreams.

It doesn't.

Jon lets himself enjoy the embrace for a moment, murmuring a noise of understanding at Tony's initial words and he would have sighed if what follows hadn't make him chuckle instead. "That's hardly a look I can realistically pull off and I can't say I'm sad about this awareness." Lauri's level may be just a tad... Much for him.

The sigh that actually follows is a soft one. One that speaks of tension being released. "I think by now I can live with your commentary, though."

At least they were on the same page about how built Jon probably should be, making Tony breathe a laugh in return as he swept his hand down Jon's back prepared to tease him for what a real Lauri-Ell apprenticeship could turn him into. Tony's fingers danced over the ribs that he had counted a hundred times, though, tickling carefully down the soft give of his side where they should have continued and very aware of how Jon had been hurt.

"Yeah, I think I can put up with you most of the time, too, boss," he did respond with another baffled laugh, not sure how else to take that, as he nudged Jon's chin up to consider the mark still lingering from his encounter with the spiders. What Tony saw was a scar that he had given Jon, no better for him than whoever had been ripping bones out of him or burning his hand, his failures to Jon manifesting unavoidably where Tony could run a careful finger just under the mark then press an apologetic kiss to his temple. "I'll figure something out, I'll fix this," he promised there, less confident now than ever.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject