dive

[in_extremis]

WHO: Tony and Catra
WHERE: The factory (Orange 16)
WHAT: Meanwhile, where Tony's been.
WHEN: Also a little while after Jon's disappearance
WARNINGS: Tony's in a dark place, suicidal tendencies up to 11.


This Iron Man wasn't designed for space; Tony didn't have the means or materials and doubted he even had the battery power, but space, he reasoned, he could deal with. The nanoweb could hold the line for a few precious minutes, and then it was really a battle against time. If it cost Tony a limb or an organ, that would something for him to fix later. Right now, the problem was getting to the Agrii ship, because it was clear that they were not capable of properly comprehending the incredibly nuanced request that Tony blasted at them, nor could they be trusted to manage their own Handy He Row Generator and could use the technical expertise.

When the air thinned, Tony hardly noticed, his heart already vibrating against his ribcage and head swimming, vision narrowing by the time he reached the stratosphere and a bit of a journey ahead of him yet. He didn't waste the precious oxygen lingering on tactical decisions, rocketing through miles in minutes, the armor the briefest wink of light as it caught the gleam of the sun as he took to the air, then rapidly disappearing into the clear sky and leaving behind only an echoing shudder of the sonic boom rattling the dust from the factory walls around the forge.

It was long minutes before another sound broke over the area, the faintest whistle of wind whipping through the metal cut with the occasional burst of jets that hissed then stuttered into powerless silence. The crack and crash through the roof of the long standing factory was quick and clean, the Iron Man breaking easily through wood and cement and torturing steel beams into contortions as he ripped them out of their foundations. It was the blast as he hit the floor that shook the ground, sending debris bursting out of the empty and broken windows and threatening to shake the walls into rubble, that bone rattling thunder travelled through the empty streets and skirted easily through already decrepit structures like a rolling wave of dust and a sigh of pain that lapped against the city's walls.

Comments

[heeeyadora]

Bandages? Catra looked pointedly about the factory. She'd dragged in a few trinkets in her time her, but medical supplies hadn't been on her list.

"...I have sheets? Would that work>" she asked, before giving Tony a quizzical look, "...Who the hell is Annie? He does have brain damage."

[deal_me_in]

Nah, he was just causing other problems. Cayde shrugged, having even less of a clue as to who Annie was and not particularly arguing Catra's conclusion. Instead, he focuses on the initial question. "If you don't mind shredding them up," he said. "I'll find you some new ones later," he promised.

The way he figured, it was easier keeping busy than thinking about the things that had happened. Not that there wasn't genuine concern about Tony's health. Had he any internal damage? Broken bones? Sundance could only scan for so much and Tony's suit hadn't exactly been in the best of states to be helpful in providing any specific status reports.

"Should we go grab a doc, chief?" Who even was handling the hospital anymore? Still Billy?

[in_extremis]

It wasn't a particularly helpful answer, but as Cayde was organizing the sheet-shredding Tony muttered, "...get your gun..." Which he did recognize sounded like it would be a request of either one of these two, and not much in defence of his functional brain. To better make his point, he shakily sang, "Anything you can do, I can do better..." and would have laughed if that didn't make him cough and wince.

That did put him in a particularly perilous position to insist, "No leave him alone, he'll just...make a voodoo doll of me and say a prayer, nobody there does medicine anymore." Christ, this revelation was just getting worse, Tony was not about to trust anyone else to yell at him about his health. "It looks way worse than it is, I promise, won't even remeber it happened in the morning," he groaned as he tried to make his escape, giving up the cool support of the slab.

[heeeyadora]

"Okay," Catra agreed, "Make sure he doesn't die," she instructed, frowning at his babbling that she didn't understand and hurrying off to go fetch the sheets.

It was a bit of a jaunt to cross to the other end of the factory and back, leaving the two with some alone time.

[deal_me_in]

"No one's dying on my watch," Cayde replied, aiming to make that as much of a promise as the sheets as he nodded at Catra before she went off. As though he didn't notice Tony's attempted movement, he sat himself at the edge of the slab as they waited.

"...Ghosts can't fix people aside from their Guardians," he said as he fiddled with his knife, studying the blade. He'd probably have to resharpen this one after wedging it between metal plates. "And obviously I'm no doctor and neither is Catra, so if you don't let us know if there might be some real damage there, somewhere- well I doubt the kid'd attempt an operation at least."

[in_extremis]

Watching Catra go with some longing, both sure she would have left him to die in peace if he made enough of a nuisance of himself and guilty about her stained cheeks, Tony ended up pushed up with one foot on the ground, other knee still bent on the table where he leaned over it on his hand with an arm wrapped gingerly around his ribs. He was slow to look Cayde's way, keeping his gaze low, and slower to produce a shrug, tipping his head slightly to expose the pressure welt rubbed into his neck where he drew the nanoweb down like a viscous spill of golden oil, then back up to cover the growing bruise and smooth over it like a layer of new skin. "I can take care of it," he muttered, "just takes a little longer." Extremis hadn't been working particularly efficiently since he arrived here, but it didn't feel like anything was broken or fatally compromised. As far as Tony could be relied upon to properly estimate, anyway.

Not that it really mattered, and if Tony had any control over it he'd rather be nursing the bruises than the ragged tear in his chest. He tried for a deep breath to admit, down at his fist curled on the table and his voice tight, "I don't know what to do." He should have been prepared for this after Steve left, and instead all he had to show for his effort was the twisted scrap of what used to be Iron Man.

[deal_me_in]

Cayde nodded, hoping they weren't empty words, but also knowing it didn't sit well with him to just leave it at that. And it would be a shame to have had Catra go off for nothing, so he was convinced that while things would take a while, there wasn't any harm in helping make sure nothing ended up worse for lack of effort.

Unfortunately he hadn't any better responses when he heard that admission. He wasn't sure what sort of metal guts he had, knowing there was no stomach there yet unable to help for the sensation that a lead weight had settled in it. The glowing blue of his optics shuttered into darkness as he closed his eyes, sighing a breathless sigh, his shoulders sinking with it. "Wish I had some suggestions," he murmured. He thought he should have been more prepared for the possibility, but obviously he hadn't put much effort into considering, relying too much in a baseless hope that maybe just maybe...

The Exo shook his head. "I could tell you all the cliche think-positives but it wouldn't change anything, would it? So right now, just get better. For the kitten, for me- and then once you're good to go we'll both go tell off the Agrii and whoever else is listening, show 'em they can't just swap people in and out like game pieces."