voidtreckerexpress | Brooding and Fighting

Entry tags:

Brooding and Fighting

Who: Tony and OTA
What: Varies
When: Basoon 16- late (might add another time/ date too)/ Basoon 17-18 Training in Gym and also on those days, tearing up a row of chairs in the standard car.
Where: Varies
CW: Language, Talk about death/ anxiety, depression; violence-ish?
Notes: For the first part- His first response is going to be to tell you to go away. However, if your character will stick it out beyond that, feel free to tag in.

[Brooding]

It was well after dinner when the majority of the passengers wouldn't be in the dining carriage with none of the lights on. Those who snacked tended to stay in the kitchen. There are a few dishes left to do, but they were far down on Tony's list of worries.

He'd had several drinks from the bottle of scotch he'd purchased and that had led to a very dark mood. His back was to the doorway, his helmet was on the table next to him with the open bottle, and a projected image was playing in front of him. There were three voices in the video- his, a woman's, and a little girl's. A little girl who looked a lot like a younger version of Buttercup was playing around a park and a lovely blonde woman following along after her. The woman keeps looking at the camera and joking about Tony needing to stop filming everything, but of course he makes up some stupid reason about why this was vital for the sake of all of humanity. There's another one with the same duo are playing in the woods with a tiny set of Iron Man masks and gloves.

[Training]

He was a little hungover, but in a way the bad mood just made him want to fight even more. He'd called over the ICP for anyone who would like to start training to learn hand to hand combat.

He found some material to make small cushion gloves like those a boxer might have (only obviously not as good as those). He's wearing his cargo pants and a black tank top. He calls Peter up to the front of the class and passes over another set of the makeshift boxing gloves.

[Added! Getting spare parts- Late afternoon 17 ]

Tony found the belt Manabu had set aside for a holster for his gun and decided to put his tools on it. He was already sweaty from the training, so he didn't bother cleaning up when he was going to be working more. So in his black undershirt, a sledgehammer over on shoulder, and a metallic glove from his suit he whistled his way to the standard carriage.

There was no need for this many chairs in here. They would never need this many. So, he went over to the front row and lifted the hammer. With a purely devilish grin, he grunted from the exertion and TWA-BANG. The headrest of the chair went flying. He kept working, going back and forth between the sledgehammer, a very concentrated beam from his glove for cutting, and a screwdriver until he had one short row of chairs dismantled.

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Fifty years ago, Joss would have killed Tony for this.

Five years ago, he might have broken bones.

But now? He stops fighting. He's still stiff and looking very put-upon, but he stops fighting. Tony's so shitfaced he doubts that he'll even remember this in the morning. If nobody knows about this, Joss's dignity will remain intact.

...

Wait, fathers?

Oh, Christ.

Joss focuses on the part of the word vomit that doesn't make him want to throw himself out of the airlock and scowls up at Tony. "I've wanted to take Romeo to Milan for over a year now. Don't take that from me. He's my best mate."

"We can do it! We just gotta nab the train. You get the steering wheel, I'll get the pedals. You're too small for the pedals. You have such tiny, tiny feet! Like I don't think anyone's feet have ever been that small." He reaches down and plucks one of Joss' feet up like it's a wonder of science. "I need to find what's-her-face better shoes. You know the one. She doesn't like the big cloppy shoes. These are like.. tiny big cloppy shoes."

He sets Joss on the table. "Why can't I be friend with your friend? He's like cotton candy. Everyone loves him."

"No, I don't know the one. Unhand me." Joss swats Tony's hand away from his shoe like an irritable cat. He frowns down at Stark from his place on the table, next to the capped bottle of Scotch and the ignored mugs of coffee.

"He's too pure and too trusting--someone will take advantage of that someday. He needs to be protected."

And, more softly:

"He's also my only friend."

Tony just laughs when Joss bats at his hand. He sat back and reached for one of the coffees. He actually really liked coffee, so it just being present sometimes worked to get him to sober up a bit.

Mid-drink though, he held up his index finger and started shaking his head. Setting it down, he argued, "False! That is a lie. You are incorrect! I am your friend. Even if you are freakishly tiny. We are friends."

That declaration is a little starting.

"We are?"

His voice sounds small, hesitant, and awfully young. There's none of his usual braggadocio and swagger.

"You don't know me, Stark. Not really. I've killed thousands of humans over my long life. And I enjoyed it. You'd be friends with a monster."

"Of course we are." His reply was immediate, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. As drunk as he was, it was hard to pierce through all of that, but that worry seemed to do the trick.

His grip tightened around Joss, giving him another hug. "I rather like my monster kid." The hug loosened until it was more optional if Joss wanted to remain sitting in his lap or if he wanted to crawl onto the table or- wherever. He holds up a hand so they both could see it clearly. "You can't see it, but this is dripping in blood too. A country. A whole country full of ruined lives. You don't have to be my friend if you don't want to, but I'm your friend. I don't care how Romeo gets to Italy. I'll help you figure it out and then you can take him. He's too sweet to be around me anyway."

Joscelin immediately stiffens up when Tony hugs him, but then he finds himself relaxing into it. He makes no indication of wanting to move.

"Good," he says at last. "We'll be monsters together, then."

And then, after a moment: "Tell me about your daughter."

That idea warmed his heart and now as he looked back at the video being projected in holographic images, it didn't hurt quite so bad. He had a monster family now. Peter could definitely qualify as a monster and god-knows Buttercup would probably love it. He'd have to call Ignis his butler again..

The request was a surprise. He wouldn't have pegged the vampire kid to care about stuff like that. It was sweet, nonetheless.

"She's beautiful." Obviously. Joss could see that. "She's smart. She'll probably be smarter than me. Give it a moment... there, see that? I made a mini-version of my armor for her. Well, not the whole thing- just the gloves and helmet. I had the plans for a real one but I just couldn't bring myself to make it and.. I ran out of time." Story of his life, quite literally, since he was dead. "I hope she finds a life outside of the Avengers." It was his biggest fear that she might end up just like him.

Joscelin settles against Tony's chest, content to let him just talk. If talking helps him sober up, then Joss has done his job.

The suit is another thing that seems straight out of a comic book, but he doesn't say so, instead he just watches the video. A happy family.

God, he misses his own.

"What are the Avengers?" he asks, trying to ignore the way his eyes are burning, thinking about Mum.

"The Avengers.." He repeated thoughtfully, drawing Joss just a touch closer. He must have noticed on some level the kid was looking or sounding miserable. He couldn't offer much, especially right now, but he could give him a warm shoulder to cry on and a fatherly hug.

"They- well, we- were created to be guardians of our world. Each member had an extraordinary talent and a desire to make the world better, safer. It was led by myself and Captain America." Until it broke apart. He never would forgive Steve for that. "Peter's one of them too. If you were on my world, I'd let you be one if you were willing."

He likes this, somehow. It makes him feel safe.

(The nasty voice inside of him is telling him he’s weak for seeking support like this, but the nasty voice isn’t as loud as it normally is.)

“‘Captain America?’ Bit on the nose, don’t you think? It’s almost as bad as Superman.” Joss is smiling, though. “So you’re a legitimate superhero, Stark? Proper Justice League and everything?”

He snorts. “I’d make a rubbish hero. What would I be called, anyway? Vampire Boy? Immortal Demon Lad?”

If it helped, Tony was needing this just as much as Joss. It made him feel much more grounded and less alone to be able to 'dad' at someone. Despite having Peter around to keep in tow, Tony was surprised how often he was enjoying the smaller/ younger children. Joss was just the right size to be reminiscent of his little girl- even if they were considerably different people. It was surprising to him how much he loved them both.

"It was the 40's, he couldn't help it," he defended with a chuckle. His eyebrows rose at that funny name. "Ah.. yeah. That didn't take a lot of thought either, did it?"

The question about being a superhero had him smiling and hesitating briefly before nodding. "If you can consider my work as Iron Man enough to counter all the damage I've caused. Justice League, huh? Where are you getting these names?" They didn't sound like Joss was making them up on the spot.

"You'd be surprised.. and no you'd be.. uh.." Give him a second, he's really too drunk for this. "Sucky the Wonder Fang*!"

[*Name courtesy of Elly because she's the greatest.]

“You haven’t heard of Superman?” But Stark is a superhero.

“He’s famous. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, Aquaman...they make up the Justice League and fight supervillains. There’s comic books and films and television programs. Some better than others.” And given that he’s been consuming this media for the past 90 years or thereabouts...

“I’m not sure how Superman got his name. I think the creators just liked how it sounded, but it’s all very Nietzschian, don’t you think?”

He scowls at Tony. “Fuck no. If you’re not careful, Stark, you shall feel my wonder fangs and won’t like it at all.”

"He's.. super?" Tony asked, with a humored smile. However, then Joss starts listing off a bunch of names. He listened wondering who all of the characters were. Did Peter know about them?

The reaction was exactly what he wanted and he laughed so hard at that, he was shaking both of them for a moment. "You're too fun to mess with kid."

Joscelin finishes up his explanation of the DC universe with a simple: "It's all fiction, of course. Superheroes are a fantasy in my world. Any human with unusual gifts would do well to hide them from normal people, lest the torches and pitchforks come out. There was a shapeshifter a few years back who saved a woman from falling onto the tracks in the London Underground and the local magical government had to do a great deal of cover up to keep us from being exposed. The shifter had to pay a fine, as I recall. It was all over the papers." He's mainly saying all of this to hear himself talk, at this point. It's the 680 year old vampire equivalent of a small child telling a rambling account of what had happened at school that day.

He pouts, quite adorably, as Tony teases him. "I wouldn't want to be a superhero anyway. Sounds bloody thankless."

"He had to pay a fine for saving people?" He sighed. Rambling small child vampire, meet loves-to-hear-his-voice adult. "That does sound like what being a Superhero is really like a lot of the time. Our planet was attacked by this army of aliens- long story, but basically super powerful with both magic and technology far past ours, and my team saved the day. We nearly got ourselves killed doing it, but eventually we were able to drive back and close the portal they'd entered through."

He sighed again and shook his head. "After people had gotten over the shock, their first reaction was that it was our fault the city had taken damage- which it had, but still. So I got my company and set up a free project to the city to clean up after disasters like that. Know what I got? All kinds of grief over it because I was 'taking jobs away from others'." He rolled his eyes. "But then you have those good moments too that make it all worth it."

"Not simply for saving people," Joss says vaguely, waving a hand. "For being seen while saving them. Adult man suddenly turns into a massive white dog in the middle of city crawling with cameras? Caused a bit of a headache for magical law enforcement." He points at the nearest ICP. "You've been around me long enough to know that the conventional wisdom around the undead and cameras and mirrors is a bunch of bollocks. It's the same for other supernaturals. We can be filmed, see our reflections, and all that. Honestly, the Night Council have more problems with YouTube than they did when idiot humans kept trying to burn witches."

He laughs fondly at the memory. He's not particularly fond of witches.

When Tony tells him about his experience, he frowns. "Hmm. It sounds a bit like the end of a film, doesn't it? They never show you that bit. The heroes emerge victorious in the rubble of the city, the planet saved, and then the credits roll. They never say what happens after. I suppose it makes sense that people might be a bit wary if those heroes who had been a part of the destruction suddenly offered to clean it up."

Tony chuckled along hearing the rest of the story and situation. He couldn't argue on the werewolf's behalf any further than he already had- even that one he was going to pretend hadn't been said.

"It wouldn't have been my first charitable organization for the city, so I thought they'd see it more along those lines. Each to their own, though." It didn't really matter now. He'd given the whole planet back its life and it wasn't contingent on whether they paid him proper dues for it. He was the one who could save it, so he had. He'd go on to explain more of those good moments to Joss, but he found it difficult to let someone else see those moments. He knew Joss and trusted him, but.. "And then you have a boy who is awkward and lost and very obviously going to get himself killed and you get him pointed toward the road that will lead him to being the greatest Avenger of all." No one else had gained a protege.

Joscelin is quiet for a moment.

"How long have you known Peter? How did you find him?"

"A couple years." It seemed a lot longer than that. "Well, that's how long I've been aware of him. He told me when I got here that several years before that I rescued him. This psycho had tried to mimic my suit and created a bunch of flying androids. Peter was in area attending a science expo I put on every year and he almost got caught in the crossfire. He had on an Iron Man mask and a toy repulser glove. It was pretty cute."

After a moment, he adds, 'Thanks, Joss. You've really helped."

Joscelin blinks at the story. "That sounds like a film," he says admiringly, thinking about how implausible his own tales of magical bureaucracy must sound to Tony. "The life and times of a superhero."

He shrugs, suddenly feeling awkward. "I just listened."

Tony breathed a soft laugh that had no real humor to it. Still, there had been affection. And despite what Joss might be thinking, Tony liked his story too.

"Yep." He remarked at Joss saying all he had done. "Thanks." It had been a simple act, but Tony had greatly appreciated it. He was going to keep sitting here with Joss on his knee and either pass out or go back to his room and pass out. For tonight, that was the best this 'superhero' was going to be capable of.

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Brooding and Fighting

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