arcreact | ( savrou ) ic contact

No.

[He sounds exactly as grim as he feels.]

I just called her to warn her away from medtent, but she hasn't answered me yet. Probably got busy helping with something around the camp.

[Sure. That's why. He's not worried at all.

Don't ask why Flynn's going to medtent.]

[ Tony gives her an exaggerated clap on the back when she coughs, mulling the question over. ]

Well, I let you take over my tent. [ And went off to hobo with Adrien, as per usual. At least before Pepper arrived and he had to reclaim his few luxuries, that is. ] Does that count?

[ He gives the flask a long look when she holds it out, wanting nothing more than to take it and down it until the sting of the anxiety is a little less sharp. It's been months. But he can also taste the sicky-sweet liquor of the mantis planet on his tongue like some kind of phantom sensation. He winces, motioning for her to keep the flask. ]

Though I guess there is something I could give you.

[Hawke shrugs and takes a long swig before coughing again even after he claps her on the back. It takes the edge off. But not as much as she would like.]

I'm not sure if it counts if you take it back.

[Not that she's bitter! She's grateful he let her crash in the first place and probably gave her a bucket to get sick in because he's a bro. She just has to tease him because it's too fun not to.

Then she raises her head from his shoulder to cock it curiously.]

Oh, I love being given things without any sort of pretext or context. Do tell. Hopefully, it's not spiders.

[ There's no doubt about it now; even if he didn't know the symptoms with a terrible intimacy, Courser's hovering would be proof enough. Panic attack. ]

Sure you can. You're Elena Fisher. I doubt "can't" factors in very often.

[ He keeps his voice level and calm, almost nonchalant, like nothing going on here is deeply alarming. He knows the panic and fluster of others has never once helped him with his own attacks. ]

Here, I'll even do it with you.

[ He gives her shoulders a squeeze and takes a deep, overly exaggerated breath - her cue to mimic him. ]

No, but it's probably just as disappointing.

[ In the scheme of Christmas gifts, anyway. Maybe one day he'll be in a position to actually get her something, when they're not in a depressing caravan traversing an inhospitable alien planet. Who knows. ]

Dum-E'd probably be a smoldering wreck of twisted metal if it weren't for you. And Pep — Christ, who knows. Even if something less savory didn't get to her first, she would've been alone and scared and lost for God knows how long.

[ He can picture Pepper picking her way across the alien landscape, injured, half-blind, and absolutely terrified. It's enough to make him feel vaguely ill. Hawke scooping her up and helping her when she did is no small miracle. ]

So, thanks. [ He gives her shoulder a brief squeeze with the hand he'd been using to pound her back. ] I owe you one. Or several.

[ Your present is an unheard of GENUINE EMOTION. ]

[Hawke just sort of stares at him, flask halfway to her mouth in preparation for the long drink she was going to take in response to what she figured would be some sort of Tony Stark Joke (TM).

She didn't expect this kind of response. Not from him. Not because she thought he was unkind but because people simply never thanked her. Hawke did things. Hawke got results. People wanted more things. That was how it went.

It was like it filled a little hole in her that she didn't even really know existed because it was easier not to acknowledge it. She coughed, feeling that tightness return despite not wanting it to be there. She should be happy right?

But instead whatever was filled inside of her started to overflow and run around the edges of other holes that had been broken open in the past few weeks.

She saved Dum-E but not her sister or her father or her mother or her brother. She saved Pepper but not the Viscount's son. Why? Surely, she should have been to do more for her family if she'd really loved them?

And if she was going to die, who would watch over her friends? What would Varric do? Who would help Merrill get through the city? Help calm Anders?

Who would protect Kirkwall? What happens to Kirkwall in the war?

She coughs again trying to clear the feeling but the air is starting thin and breathing feels impossible under the weight in her chest. But her focus is on not letting Tony see any of it if she can help it.]

Feelings, Mr. Stark? You ought to be careful. I've heard they're dangerous.

[ Somehow— just somehow— Tony manages to get through and a laugh breaks between the gasping breaths. It sounds more like a breathless choking, but it's the shaking shoulders under his steadying hands that would give it away better.

There's too much oxygen getting in, not enough getting out.

The first try to mimic him doesn't quite come through; she's getting lightheaded, dizzy. When she tries, it's not in sync. ]

He's— he's here...

[ That's fucking terrifying. All over again. Elena's hand grips harder, her breaths come in quicker. ]

Tony—

Where I'm from Marilyn is still the biggest star. Not some insect musicians. [Careful now. If there's anything she's more passionate and strict about than fashion it's definitely music. Marilyn's music to be more precise. She's sure that Tony's put two and two together and noticed how she imitates her idol when it comes to hair, makeup and clothing.

But before she manages to take this argument to that direction and start defending Marilyn more she's somewhat taken aback by the change of subject. It also calms her down a little, though a small pout stays on her lips.]

You tell me. I don't know how long I was dead.

[ He doesn't rush her, just breathes in and out with her, patient and unassuming. He's been so focused on trying to talk her through it that he hasn't had much time to wonder about the cause of the attack - especially when these things can be so seemingly random, as he well knows - but by the time she finds enough air to speak, the pieces are sliding into place.

Nate's call earlier, Elena not picking up, this...

He puts one hand over hers and gives it a reassuring squeeze. ]

Yeah, I know. Undesirable asshat number one, right? Unfortunate for that guy how many people he'd have to go through to so much as have a conversation with you.

[ Tony, Nate, Adrien, Hawke - at the very least. ]

You've got a veritable army of bouncers, it's kind of impressive.

[ Tony watches her closely; it isn't really the reaction he'd been anticipating. Hawke does about as well with feelings as he does - which is to say, not very well - but he knows her well enough to know this is off, even for her.

Come to think of it, that might be what the flask is for, too. ]

Oh, they are. But I've come to find they have their time and place.

Oh. Is this special? Are we having a moment? One of those moments where we bond our friendship eternal forever. Start planning some tattoos? I vote dragons.

[It's a joke. It's a Hawke joke but the delivery is off. Probably because before she even starts she has to take a hit from the flask and the finish has her with her forehead in her hand trying to breath.

It's not even a lie. It does make her feel important in a way that no one ever really has been good at except for Varric. But sometimes she wonders if Varric sees her for who she is, warts and all. Tony does. And that's why she really doesn't want to add more by breaking down in front of him.

But all she can think of is there's not going to be an eternal friendship. With Tony. Or Varric. Or anyone. It's going to be cut short. What was she going to miss?]

Edited 2017-01-03 02:22 (UTC)

[ The touch on her hand is warm; it's the skin on skin contact that helps to ease her out of the panic. Elena drops her hand from his arm but turns it enough to clasp his— she's okay, she's okay.

Her laugh this time is a soft huffing, less harsh. She's having a hard time remembering all of the things Nate would walk her through when coming awake in the middle of the night, gripped by the terror of a nightmare, experiencing the blast all over again. Having Tony's presence there, along with Courser, gradually does begin to steady her. He's got her.

The play of emotions over her pale face then, skin damp from the cold sweat that'd broken out moments ago, it's a mixture of pain and sadness, fear and worry. He doesn't know that Flynn had talked to her.

She shakes her head. ]

My- my army is weak. You guys kind of— failed. Before you even started.

Jesus. [ Why is it nobody actually picks up the phone when it's most important? ] With all the time she spends at the med tent? This is a recipe for disaster.

[ tbh he's just going to assume Flynn came in with the usual Ingress bullshit rather than anything more dramatic, but the assumption also goes hand-in-hand with the hope that his Ingress affliction is as obnoxious as possible. ]

No shit.

[Guilt gnaws at his stomach. If Flynn runs into Elena because he sent him there...dammit, he should have just let him deal with the dog bites on his own.]

If I can keep her away from it for a while, at least I know he'll be occupied there. Q mauled him a little.

[ Okay, so whatever this is, it's a little more concerning than just being "off." He squints at her through the dim light. ]

Uh, sure. It's a moment as long as you don't barf on me.

[ Because she's looking more and more like she's gonna barf, or pass out. Was it something he said? Saying the wrong thing entirely without knowing why it was the wrong thing is nothing new, so that's possible. Likely, even. ]

I'm not, I just...

[She doesn't even know what she "just" anymore. It started small as a familiar weight but now that feeling that she can't breath is spreading through her like some kind of virus. She doesn't want this to happen, she just wants to joke with Tony and be comfortable in his presence and perhaps even happy that he praised her. People don't praise her like that often.

But instead she's just sitting there with her head in her hand trying to catch her breath like a pathetic fish that's been pulled from his stream and left to gasp and flop uselessly in the dirt.

Hawke doesn't even realize that she's on her feet. She doesn't remember even thinking about standing. Her body's completely lost in it's desperate struggle to just find air.

Elena told her how to fix this but now she can't remember. Is it five seconds in, ten out? No... three and seven? Fuck. Elena would be so disappointed in this if she could see it. Add her to the list along with the entire city of Kirkwall. Maybe everyone in Thedas.]

I just have to go. I'll be...

[She wants to tell him she'll be back as a sort of useless gesture that it isn't his fault. But the words die on her lips as she turns around and half runs, half stumbles away from the camp and closer to the quiet and dark stones that surround it.]

[ Well.

That happens.

He pulls himself up as she stumbles away and follows after at a slightly slower pace, lest she feel like she's being actively chased or boxed in, or something. This kind of thing seems to be happening a lot around here, or maybe he's projecting again, but he's gonna go ahead and assume he's not. Better to look like a damn fool than not do anything.

They're in the dark twilight of the camp's outer ring by the time his voice pipes up behind her. ]

Try the alphabet backward. [ He's tried that one at least a couple of times, with varying success. ] ... Or forward, actually, backward is hard as hell. It's only easy when you're well and truly plastered.

[Hawke only makes it to the outer ring before she collapses, retching up a foul combination of burning liquor and the funny purple water that restores her magic, before she collapses into a crouch. Resting her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. She tries to cool her face with an ice spell, only to struggle to control it so tendrils of ice creep from her feet and across the rocky wasteland.

She'd thought getting away would help. That she'd feel less trapped. But instead the dark sky and landscape just seem to crush around her like an impossible force. Is that what dying is like? It's dark and cold and crushing and there's nothing else anymore.

Hawke has been so close to death so often that it feels like a memory. Something that was in the past but she'd moved on from. There'd always been something stopping her. She couldn't die then, there was something more she needed to do. But she fails doesn't she? Kirkwall falls to war. Then what is there for her to do anymore?

Tony's voice comes in somewhere behind her left shoulder and cuts like a light in the fog. She raises her hands out of her hands to look at him and give him a baffled stare through her attempts to catch her breath.]

The...

What?

[There's a ping, and Tony will find their TAB lighting up with what is, perhaps, the most straightforward birthday invitation you've ever seen.

Clearly made in a template, maybe titled "PROFESSIONAL LINES" or something equally boring, it invites you to a "a small birthday celebration" at a new restaurant/bar opening in Kauto's Region 1.

There is a button to RSVP, and the additional option to add a "plus one".

It is signed off simply with "SHEPARD".

Will you attend this crunk-ass fête, this... space jam??]

[ at some point on tony's birthday there's some package that's like. there's just way too much tape on it. it almost might as well be in a box made of tape. (sort of.)

anyway, inside it is a verrrry rudimentary robot that has a button and once - if - pressed, it moves around a little and plays whatever was the neatest version of 'happy birthday' peter could find. it might be trying to dance? it might just be trying not to fall over. it's difficult to tell - there isn't a whole lot of articulation. mostly it's stepping forward and backward and slightly tilting here and there while the arms move on a limited rotation.

also then peter might have panicked a little because who gives tony stark a robot
so he stuffed a 15 senc gift certificate for the pizza place he works at in at the last minute. so that's like crammed into the flaps at the top and hopefully tony might see it.

the package peter made sure his name wasn't on but the gift certificate does say which employee got it - just ftr, in case tony gets curious who is sending him animated scraps. ]

[ The fact that Tony has worked on her armor before makes her confident that following Adrien's advice in coming to him is a good idea. It's just a matter of what it'll cost her... ]

I'm assuming that when you fixed my armor you kept some schematics of its workings or something you can refer back to if I wanted you to improve it, right?

[ Honestly, on the list of things Tony's not sure how best to deal with, this is definitely one of them. It makes something knot in his stomach - not in a bad way - but four cups of coffee does not actually solve it despite giving it the good old college try.

By the fourth hour of having the tiny robot in his possession, it's gone on his workbench where Dum-E can immediately begin several overtures at friendship, interspersed with preventing the little robot from walking directly off the table. Tony probably manages to kill another fourty-five minutes watching the spectacle before actually going back to work, and it's hour six by the time Dum-E realizes he can use his new friend to serenade the workshop with a "happy birthday" tune at will.

It's about three days later that Peter gets a message on his TAB. ]

pizza delivery, right?

[ NAILIN' IT ALREADY ]

i've still got all the notes, yeah
is this "it's busted and needs CPR" or "flame jets would be pretty cool to have, actually"?

It has to do with how my intelligence interfaces with my suit. Or rather, how it doesn't. Adrien indicated that he thought you could bridge the gap between the two so that I don't have to transfer myself to my robot body every time I think a job is going to be a little harder to handle. I'm honestly more interested these days in remaining human, if I can.

[ Yesterday, Elena Fisher died.

It's safe to say the whole house is in mourning, everyone dealing with the shock of it in their own way. Nate has been a priority, of course, but nothing seems to be easing the man's silent suffering -- not that it's any wonder. Pepper remembers all too well every instance she'd feared Tony was dead, the all-encompassing, paralyzing dread that pushed everything else aside. But she's never had to live with what came after, which she thanks every deity and lucky star imaginable. The thought of the agony Nate must be in breaks her heart, as does the sight of the man that's overtaken the couch, a shadow of his old self.

The house is so quiet tonight as Pepper pads softly first to their bedroom to change into her pj's and to check up on her new, unintentionally acquired pet. The tiny pig is snug as a bug in a rug, which at least brings a brief smile to her lips. Grabbing a fluffy robe and shrugging it on, she slips her feet into a pair of slippers before leaving again. This time she beelines to the garage, knowing Tony can be found there. Even if it weren't where he spent most of his time on a regular day, he'd definitely be there now.

It feels oddly selfish to Pepper; being able to go to the one person she loves above anyone else. Nate can't. The inexplicable twinge of guilt doesn't make her feel any better, even if none of it was her fault. It wasn't anyone's fault -- unless maybe that crazy planet's.

Opening the door leading to the garage, she's greeted with low lighting and even less sounds than she'd been expecting, calling out softly as she pads deeper into the workshop, ] Tony?

( savrou ) ic contact

video;

no subject

no subject

actionz forever

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

video;

video;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

TEXT; Backdated to April 10th

technically action? i guess? mail???

text;

text;

text;

text;

action;