Finding a New Normal

[runs_on_batteries]

Who: Tony + Gladio, Tony + OTA
Where: His office, the gym, anywhere but the kitchen
When: Egret 22-24
What: Tony dealing post-breakup

[For Gladio: Egret 22, evening]

He left the quiet room they'd been talking in and headed down the hall. It was late enough not too many people were around but not quite so safe as the middle of the night. His expression was hard. Anger and hurt were turbulent inside him for however long they'd been in that room. Now things were starting to just feel numb. He paused at the door to his office before he shook his head and continued on to the standard car where the store was. Damn party draining him of all his- what had Ignis called it? His vices.

Just as he picked the bottle up, he straightened and inwardly cringed as he stood face to face with Gladio. He took a ragged breath. "You should go find Ignis. He's going to need a friend."

[OTA]

There had been friction often in his relationship with Ignis. There had been many high points, but also some impressive lows. None so much as the other night. He sighed as he poured himself another glass. The details didn't matter really. He still cared deeply for the younger man and that wouldn't change. The simple fact that it became apparent they couldn't agree on some very fundamental things made them realize this wasn't working. So now he had a fresh bottle of bourbon and his ring back.

The first day was mainly spent in his office drinking and watching the Void till it gave him a headache. The second, he hit the gym. Wrapping his fists, he pummeled one of his dummies he'd made till his knuckles split and then switched to a sword.

That evening, he requested from one of his friends to get dinner delivered to his office so he wouldn't have to deal with Ignis' domain (i.e. the kitchen).

[OOC: Come bug him anywhere along this timeline.]

Comments

[runs_on_batteries]

Tony looked up from where he was sitting with a blanket across his shoulders against the wall. His legs were stretched out along the length of the booth and besides that, he wasn't doing anything. Which was very weird. There were no projects or books to read or any task he was in middle of. He was simply brooding and had been rather enjoying it, thank you very much, till people kept coming in.

Although of those who were visiting, Feanor was one of the most appropriate. He wondered about that. It was still so strange that of all the people on this train, it was the incredibly arrogant elven king who he'd have the strongest friendship bond with.

"A lot of things," Tony said with a sigh. "A lot of lines got crossed."

[tinkerheart]

Fëanor hands him the glass, opens the bottle and pours them both a generous serving. The situation requires this.

No matter how strange that feels, he can sense that Tony is in a way similar to him. He might be a man but - a thing Fëanor would never admit not so long ago - he has some Noldorin streak in him. That drive that makes them active. Always searching for new things to create or uncover. Never, even for a moment, stopping, never idle. For such a person to just sit and do nothing is agony or a testament to one. So his first thought was Who died? but no one did. Not to his knowledge and given how nigh impossible is to hide anything on this train, he'd knew.

"Meaning?"

A lot of things did happen. None of them, by his judgment, qualify even close to a disaster of that caliber. You just don't sit staring into space with a blank face and empty eyes unless you witnessed some earth-shattering calamity or suffered a loss equally irredeemable.

"What lines?"

Though the question probably should have been by whom?.