voidtreckerexpress | Operation: Bear Enhancement

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Operation: Bear Enhancement

Who: Tony, Fëanor and ... anyone who'd go investigating the strange sounds coming from the usually quiet luggage car
Where: Luggage car
When: 25th of Domino
What: Somebody decided the bears need adornment
Warnings: language, improper handling of stuffed animals?

A person adventurous enough to venture into the luggage car on the 25th would notice two things: first, the air filters Tony devised and installed definitely work, there's only a faint smell of tobacco hanging in the air; second, raised voices coming from behind that veritable wall of suitcases at the very end of the carriage.

If said person was even bolder and decided to check the origin of those voices, they will find Tony and Fëanor, each sitting on a sturdy suitcase, surrounded by a small army of bears in team colors.
There are bear skirts in progress, little tiaras for lady bears and little circlets for gentleman bears.

"No," says Fëanor. He won't be convinced to leave the boy bears without jewellery. It's unseemly. The bear he holds already has a tiny circlet on its head. "They absolutely must have circlets. Otherwise, it's unfair. And you never want to hear from a child that something is unfair. Believe me. It is the greatest insult."

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"Well maybe it's a good first lesson on how this train works. Life isn't fair!" Tony argued back. "They're in hoodies. They look like they are going to play soccer not.. go- what do you even do if you have to sit around wearing a circlet on your head? That makes no sense!"

“I thought we were supposed to make them feel better not worse,” he barks right back.
You lost him on soccer because he has no idea what it is. Doesn’t stop him from arguing.

“Considering those hoodies are already a textile abomination just about anything would be an improvement.” Fëanor puts the bear down. He was gesticulating with the poor animal rather wildly and the circlet didn’t fall off. “Besides, if you need to sit and do nothing while wearing it that only means it’s a bad fit and your craftsman was just lazy.”

"Well... okay, that's a really good point, but the crowns don't go with the hoodies!" He said all of that with just as much heat and vigor as if he'd actually been arguing instead of conceding a bit. Just slightly.

"Now what's your problem with the hoodie fabric? They're dolls. And if you shake that any more I'm going to report you to the Bear Protective Services for being a bad bear-dad!" That last part actually got a laugh, and yes, he still knew Feanor wouldn't get the reference.

"Very well," Fëanor replies with a smug smile. As if his concession was something incredibly generous. It seems much less so when he adds. "It's not as if we're required to keep the original uniform anyway."

"My problem? Oh, that's simple. It's hideous." But he laughs anyway. He slowly pushes the bear away looking straight at Tony saying "You would do no such thing, wouldn't you?" Another barely suppressed grin. "Or should I quote Peter to you?"

Because yes, Fëanor heard the infamous Snitches get stiches phrase at some unspecified time. He can't even remember where or when exactly. He still finds it hilarious.

"Yes but where are we supposed to find fabric that meets your standards? There isn't a damn Elf Mall on this train, you know." He huffed. "And no, we're not getting a loom at the next platform."

"Oh? And what would Peter have to say on- hey, speaking of.. well, not him but my other kid, Mady. I already gave her a bear and Ignis made her this little skirt. Think you could make hers a little tiara too? Do I need to borrow it or can I just give her the tiara to put on it?"

Yeah he really just had like three topic changes in under a second. You weren't imagining things.

"Not on this train. Unless you count the one made by Charlotte." Still dressing toys in precious spider silk is going a bit too far even for him. "Eru forbid, no! It would be a nightmare! There's simply no place on the train where you could even fit a proper one if you wanted!"

Really, you're giving him a headache only from thinking about it.

"Sure. There's no need. Those bears are pretty standard. Unless you managed to order some kind of fancy one, they would be of the same dimensions. I see she's officially adopted now." Fëanor smiles. It could have been easily nine conversation topic changes under a second before he even registered. Coming from house full of geniuses, that's rather expected. They think way faster than they speak. "It would be even more appropriate that her bear should have Avengers sigil on her dress, don't you think?"

Now that she is your daughter...

Meaning that someone is going to get a bear with a eight-pointed star on their dress. If the bear gets a dress at all. Fëanor hasn't yet decided on proper attire.

Tony chuckles, glad he just paid Feanor back with a headache for making such an annoyingly sound argument about the boys and girl bears needing bling.

"The Avengers sigil?" Oh wow, that was quite a thought. Huh, would it be that or he was sure if he thought long enough about it he'd recall what the 'Stark' seal back in the day had been. However, the whole topic had him slightly uncomfortable, but he does smile too. "Yeah that.. that was kind of a surprise. I don't regret it happening at all, but I wouldn't have ever thought of making it an official thing until Ignis brought it up. I'm glad and I'm flattered she even wanted it but.. doesn't it seem like an odd thing to do in such a place as this?" He asked, unsure. "He's mentioned before that if my wife ever shows he's going to step down relationship-wise from me."

How did one even process something like this? It's not like there were too many who would even understand. Fortunately for him, he was in the company of possibly the only one who could really 'get it'.

"Why not? I always put my own star on all of my sons' clothes. They are my children, they have all the right to wear the emblem of my house. I started doing it for practical reasons." Fëanor smiles at the memory. Large family gatherings and all the items getting lost or confused. "But it turned quite symbolic pretty fast." That's not as good a memory as the previous one.

He puts down the bear he was holding. There are matters that require his undivided attention.

"No. It most certainly does not," he replies "You both care for her greatly and the girl adores you. Anyone with a pair of eyes will tell you the same. That's all that's really needed. You don't have to be related by blood for it to matter." He grew very fond of one kid, albeit a significantly older one, here too. So fond he'd seriously consider a similar move. "I know you will most likely dismiss what I say or laugh it off. Or both." Let's be real. That's very likely to happen. "You can laugh as much as you want later but for a moment don't interrupt me. It is true we don't know how long any of us would stay here. We saw people come, we saw people leave. We saw them come back with no memories of their absence or with no memories of their previous stay here. But isn't it like that with everything? Precious few things last forever. Even for immortals like my people." Technically immortals but that's not the point. Don't criticize him on the word choice. "So take your happiness while you have it and be grateful for it." He pauses. Looks at Tony to check if he's already irritated him to the point of not listening or does he have a space for some more radical ideas. Still with me? Good.

"This will be the point when you'll laugh and call me sentimental. And then I will say I'm totally fine with that," he continues "but I do think that the heart's capacity for love is greatly underestimated. We are all, elves and men, able to love more than one child in our life or even one than one spouse. Love for one does not cancel the love for another." He's being quite heretical here, he knows that. The Valar have set laws against remarrying for his people. It is no secret he considers them stupid and cruel. Both the laws and the Valar. Well, most of them. He'd go even further than abolishing that idiotic law but this concept might be too heretical even here.

Tony was amused at the idea of Feanor having a star that he added to all his clothes. He wanted to see it immediately. "Is it on your clothes?" He asked, giving the man a once-over. (Well as well as he could given they were sitting at a table.. or overturned suitcase).

In addition to immediately focusing all his attention on Feanor as soon as he requested it, Tony had a very shocking realization. He was immediately focusing all his attention on Feanor as soon as he requested it. There wasn't a pause or hesitation or any thought to dismissing or laughing off what the elf said. If that wasn't the ultimate sign of respect from a Stark, Tony didn't know what was. The remark that he was going to laugh halfway through was amusing- not what he said next, but that first part. It made him wonder if this was what it felt like to actually have a dad talk to him for a change instead of the reverse. He had never experienced something like that. Instead of admitting all of this to Feanor directly, he was just going to ignore those requests that he take this seriously.

"I've wondered that myself. I don't feel like I love Pepper or Morgan less but.. they're not here. Even if I go back to my time I'll never see them again." Which hurt like nothing else ever could. "But I'm not sure what I'd do if later on at one of these platforms I find my wife. What do I do of the promise I made to her and the one I made to Ignis? The chances of that seemed so much lower when the train wasn't busy picking up so many people I know. My damn assistant is here. I have no idea why the train would find that man useful enough to bring here except that he's very loyal and helpful but going to other worlds to work directly with saving them?" That seemed such a stretch when thinking of Happy. He was also aware of how offensive that might seem, but when you're with your closest confidante, you were allowed to say things like that, right? It didn't mean he didn't love the fool.

"I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, but I hear what you're saying too. We don't know what might happen and do I spend my life- or whatever the hell this is- worrying about that or do I live in the here and now. It's very complicated." And yet at the same time very simple. He was in love with both a man in an adult relationship way and a child in a father relationship way.

Fëanor doesn't even try to hide his smirk. "I do," he replies but makes no movement indicating that he's planning to show where exactly. It would have been obvious if he had a silver thread. Or gold. The colors he always used. He didn't. He had only the colors that Kumoko used when making their clothes so he went for red. Black would stand out more but he will never use black.

"I don't understand the selection process any better than you do." There's maybe one person who hates him more than his nephew and yet here they are, forced to share this cramped space and do all the dance of diplomatically avoiding each other. "But I would be the last person to dismiss helpful and loyal on grounds that they have little combat prowess." Not everyone gets to be on the Red team.

But that's all a detour. Did he ask himself the same question? He did. What would he do if it was him? There are many answers to this. Some of them mutually contradicting or close to exclusionary. And at the same time doing a job of reconciling them is a task for a time when he would have that problem.

"You are right. It is complicated. But there are more people in this situation than you alone. You can only act on the information you have. Not on the one that you don't. You love your wife but you also love Ignis. You love Morgan but you also love Madoka. All of that is true. What would happen if your wife shows up on one of the platforms? I don't know. You don't know either. Worrying about it now will take you nowhere. Trying to guess her reaction is even worse. I did it. I was so convinced that Nerdanel must hate me that I almost lost the chance to see that she doesn't.

If your wife really shows up, be honest with her about all your love and just trust her. Until then, uncomfortable as it is, you won't know. No matter how much you'd try to reason through it, you won't. So there is no point in tormenting yourself with speculations."

Fëanor doesn't need to know Pepper to suspect, with a belief bordering on certainty, that she is a formidable woman. And nobody, not even her genius husband, can really tell what would her answer be. And there's one thing more.

"To deprive all three of you of a chance for happiness solely on the grounds that you promised yourself to someone else first when that person is no longer available and may as well never be. That is just wrong."

This is his greatest heresy. The ultimate act of hypocrisy that he hopes that no one will ever see through. Because he was the one denying people happiness. And while he knows it was wrong, he cannot change how he felt about it. How he feels about it still.

"Well?" Tony asked with a slight impatient tone. "Are you being coy with your mark, Feanor? Afraid it's too 'little' to be shown off?" Yes, he was terrible and he knew it.

He glances down a little at the admonishment. It was true, he really did care for Happy and felt better knowing he was healthy and well.. happy.

It was helpful to hear again that he wasn't alone and that it was understandably complicated. His dark eyes met Feanor's with a humored smirk hearing of how he'd reacted foolishly to his wife. He was glad that sounded like a past tense kind of situation. He wanted his friend to be happy.

He was quiet for a while as he considered the wise words. "It would bother me less if it bothered him less. He continues to say he'll 'step back' if she ever shows up. I fear if she does then I won't have a choice as he'll make the decision for me. I realize he's trying to respect me but it.. it doesn't sit well with me either. He's young and inexperienced with both life and relationships that sometimes it makes me wonder.." He's not quite sure what it makes him wonder, but there was some doubt here. "Do you have any advice on how to help him with his jealousy of her?"

"I certainly am not. They are in plain sight for all that have eyes to see." Fëanor declares with absolute seriousness and certainty only to burst into laughter a mere seconds later.

"You should have seen yourself." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "They are there. Exactly where I usually put them." He points to the opening of his hoodie and shows both of his sleeves. There are red eight-pointed stars in each place. "I just had to do them in red for lack of my usual colors... and I actually like the effect of play on the texture more than contrast so I didn't bother remaking them in anything more readily visible." He knows they are there and anyone with observant enough would notice them too.

But all color drains from his face with that last question. His jaw tightens and he looks away. He has to. Or he would scream. You are asking the worst possible person, Tony.

The worst.

It almost takes his breath away because it all comes back. He could not stand her. He could not even tolerate the sight of her. He hated her so much that he refused to use her name. So much that he would only refer to her as that woman. She took everything from him. And that wasn't even true. But it felt like it and that was enough for him to hate her at that time.

How can he offer advice on such matters?! You are expecting too much of him! Yet it rings in his ears what Olórin once had said. Of those who are endowed with many gifts much is expected in return. He laughed then, he's not laughing now. You're damned right, crazy Maia. You are damned right.
Oh, Powers that are! Mighty Valar, Kings and Queens of Arda! You thought this son of Finwë is beyond redemption! You thought he's incapable of such things!

Fucking watch him!

So it takes no small amount of effort to unclench his teeth and steady his breathing but he does so. Slowly, methodically. Until he's sure that he's able to speak without spewing venom with every syllable he utters.

"I don't but I'll try anyway."

[Feanor managed to talk so much the DW gods broke it in two haha, just kidding.]

"Oh right, however did I miss that," he replied sarcastically. Now that it was pointed out though, he would be on the lookout. They were quite pretty. "I think the Stark name had a crest once upon a time. I wonder if I can't create a combination of the Avengers and the Stark symbol." That would be interesting to think about.

He was surprised to find his other comment cause such a strong reaction. This wasn't the first time he'd accidentally stepped on an emotional landmine with this man. What was it that he kept stepping on though? All he could do was watch and wait to see if he got any better clues than the last time.

Without responding verbally to that answer, Tony slowly reached across the table and took Feanor's hand. "Talk to me. What the hell was that, friend?"

Fëanor shakes his head but he calmed enough to smile. The irony of the situation is not completely lost on him.

"You have an uncanny ability to find the most explosive questions to ask me, Tony. I don't know how you do it but it's a real talent."

That is a little vague so he adds.

"Be aware that you just asked the most jealous person in the whole of Arda how to deal with jealousy." A slight exaggeration but not much. There are other contenders to the title but Fëanor considers himself to be quite high on that ignoble list. He'd rather prefer not to be on it at all...but well, he is.

Also asking elves for advice is the most frustrating affair in existence. They never give you a straight answer.

"But since dealing with problems of others is always easier than those of your own, I can at least extrapolate from my experience. In hope that it would be helpful."

Tony had to smile at that. He'd accept anything that said he had a real talent for it. In this case, at least, he wasn't trying to find these landmines of subjects. Other people he might enjoy distressing, but Feanor wasn't one of them.

"Perhaps that means you're the one with the most experience with it?" He offered as an attempt to look on the bright side. "Besides, I'm not sure that is true. Yes, I've heard of what you've been through but I've known others who would've treated their spouse a whole lot worse than you and their children due to jealous habits. Your sons love you. Your wife loves you. While I'm sure you can put others to shame in other ways, are you sure about this?"

He nodded at the last part though. "Whether you're jealous or not, you have life experiences that most everyone else on this train don't. So yes, I don't care if it's hypocritical I could use the advice."

That's not exactly the reaction he expected. He didn't expect ... understanding.

"It's not my wife or my sons that I had in mind but my brothers. It's them I treated the worst." There is a reason why Fingon hates him. A good, valid reason.

And that's not even the whole truth but it seems that the whole truth is not needed here. Maybe one day he'll be able to say it. That day has not yet come. But it doesn't have to. Tony doesn't need his confession. He needs advice. Or at least a view from his side.

"If so then I would say that firstly, do not compare. Comparison is the thief of all joy. It robs you of what you already have and gives nothing in return. Only mirages of what could have been. It is easy to get lost in if only. To spin out of it tales of slights and injustices so convincing you'd start believing them yourself.

Easy to persuade yourself that the other person always has it better. That the very fact of their presence, nay, their very existence sours all your happiness. Once you told yourselves those tales enough times it's easy to act on them as if they were true. That's where most of the harm comes from."

Then you go and draw a sword at your own brother fully believing you have all the right to do so.

"The fact that there was anyone in the exception list means you weren't as horrible as you want to believe yourself to be. Remember when you talked to me about what true evil was? I've met true jealousy and greed. You may have done an impressive amount of damage but.. give yourself a little credit for what you didn't do too. You and I both take on far more guilt than our crimes at times." Though he would admit sometimes it was because they truly deserved that guilt, but other times.. maybe not so much.

Tony listened, seeing immediately the wisdom to what he was saying. It was easier said than done, but it was something worthwhile to share with Ignis. Also for himself. He'd make sure not to bring up his wife or daughter when it could lend itself to those unflattering comparisons. Although it did raise a question. "Should I never speak of her? Of them? I don't want Ignis to feel comparison or judged. Do I leave my wife and daughter's memories in the past?"

Nerdanel is just. Amused by this whole thing. She'll bring them food, peck Feanor on the cheek and then retreat. She knows better than to get in the way of a crafting binge.

See? See? That's why she is absolutely the best! As if anyone ever needed proof of that. He doesn't. Any sane person shouldn't. But for those few irrational heretics that could possibly question something this obvious: there.

Curufin enters the luggage car, and hears the arguing coming from behind the stacked suitcases. Tony's voice and Fëanor's. Well, this is going to be interesting! He comes round the suitcase wall and immediately sees the army of bears. WTF???

"Actually, I hardly ever wore a circlet when I was a boy," he cuts in, cheerfully. "I didn't like them, if you remember, Father. But how about bracelets instead? I'm sure the bears won't mind."

Don't WTF at him! This is serious operation! (No, it is not. Otherwise, why would they hide in the very last carriage of the train?)

"Oh, I remember perfectly," Fëanor replies immediately not even surprised that Curufin has found them. "Though it took a while before I realized your circlet doesn't go mysteriously missing because some malevolent outside force keeps stealing it," he adds. "But because you really hate wearing it."

He moves to the side of his suitcase/improvise suitcase. "You can always join us and make sure not all the bears are subjected to dreaded circlets."

Stuffed bears are SERIOUS! Everybody knows that, even adults!

Curufin chuckles. "Oh, you remember that? What, you didn't buy my story about the mysterious malevolent force that kept snatching my circlet? And I told it so dramatically!" He flings a melodramatic wrist to his forehead and imitates his own childish voice of long ago: " 'Father, father! The Dark Forces stole my head circlet again! Whatever shall I do???' "

And then he grins. "I'd be happy to join you and donate my skills. I'll bet you have bears that love circlets and bears that hate them. I'lll endeavor to keep that last group happy."

Fëanor laughs. If there's anyone that can provide a true spectacle and do it with such a flair that the audience simply has no other choice than to appreciate the acting talent of the performer, it's Curufin. His exaggerated rendition of his younger self is flawless.

"Why? I did!" he replies. "Every single time. Would I go with you look for it if I didn't?"

He gestures to the part of bears that are still unadorned.

"You tell me which of those look as if they hated circlets."

Curufin is a natural actor! And he loves it that his father can appreciate that. (Besides, it's a bit of an inherited tendency, maybe?)

He laughs. "Such a dear father, to believe my every word! And besides, it was fun to go on those searches. Did the Dark Forces hide the circlet under the bed? No. Did the Dark Forces hide it in the closet? Nope. Did the Dark Forces hide it in the cookie cupboard? Uh-oh, there it is!"

He looks over the ranks of bears. He points: "That one, that one, and that one, they definitely hate circlets. I'll make some bracelets for them."

Shh... of course, it is. You don't get to command over crowds of as fiercely independent thinkers as the Noldor without some degree of an innate knack for spectacle.

It's a good memory. Finding hidden things is always a good sport even without any Dark Forces interference. Especially, without them.

"Then I leave them to you."

Naturally! Like father, like son.

Curufin remembers fondly those searches for the hidden circlet. It certainly was fun, Dark Forces or none!

He chuckles. "I'll make those bears such lovely bracelets that the other bears will be jealous." And he goes to look at the materials and finds a place to sit down and get to work. Naturally, he's brought his tools with him. He hardly ever goes anywhere without that tool satchel -- just as he did in childhood!

Soon he will make three stuffed bears very happy.

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Operation: Bear Enhancement

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NOT ACTUALLY REALLY HERE But yes sort of here

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wrap?

And it's a wrap!