voidtreckerexpress | Finding a New Normal

Entry tags:

Finding a New Normal

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.]

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The first knock on the door that evening isn’t dinner.

“Stark?”

Joscelin peers in, glasses hanging off his nose. He hasn’t quite mastered the art of getting them to stay put. For once, he isn’t pretending to be anything but a child, concerned about a parent’s wellbeing.

“I heard.” Of course he had; it’s not a large train.

“How are you holding up?”

The second knock? That's dinner, the tray carried by the much-larger form of Dread. Sarai herself had been the one knocking, of course.

"I thought you might want a little company for dinner? We made it ourselves..." Trust two of the other good cooks on the train to try to spoil him just a little, in the light of things...

Ple Two is not an uncommon sight in the gym - it's essential to keep up a workout routine in an enclosed space like this, and frankly, she wouldn't mind a second gym car to bug everyone into using. Still, there's an aura of frustration that makes it a little more awkward to use when, for example, a fellow passenger is working out their feelings on a dummy or a punching bag.

"I'm not very good at putting feelings to words but... take care of yourself, please." It's the best advice she can offer, and already might be stepping over a line. But she's young, and Tony's fond of her.

Tony looks up as Joss comes in. He's been enjoying how cute Joss has been trying to figure out glasses and being human. The glasses in particular were amusing. He tried to find the humor in it today and found it much harder. This wasn't his first breakup though, so he knew it wouldn't be too long before it was back.

He lifted the bottle so Joss could see it was half gone. "Super." The buzz in his brain was helpful. He knew it was cushioning the pain well enough for now. "For the record, don't start dating a roommate. It gets awkward."

Bucky, being that he is also overly fond of the kitchen has both not seen Tony in a couple of days and heard why. So when the request comes for dinner by delivery, Bucky volunteers to bring it, a plate piled with whatever the meal of the evening is -- and maybe a handful of cocoa nibs stolen from the pantry has made its way onto the tray, too.

He knocks at the 'office' door, tray balanced expertly atop his metal hand. "Got some take out here for a Tony Snark," he announces.

“Duly noted,” Joscelin remarks, clambering up next to Tony. He reached for the bottle out of instinct, forgetting momentarily that he is a child and that alcohol actually affects him now. One swig leaves him gasping, eyes watering. That taste! How is something he enjoyed so much before so disgusting to him now?

He splutters for a few moments, then calms enough to speak again.

“But this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, is it?” Belatedly, he realizes how that sounds and adds: “In the long run, I mean. You’ve a wife and child back in your world. Maybe this is the impetus you need to get back to them.”

Maybe Tony would find some amusement in seeing Sarai fitting neatly under the tray he carried.

"You don't get to say no anyway, so I hope you're hungry." Though his threat was good-natured, it was true nonetheless; the Thunderstorms thought he'd been alone too long as it was.

Gladio was, as usual these days, restless. And that meant walking. Where? Nowhere, clearly. The train was limited. He could walk to one end and then back to the other. It was boring. It was the same. It was driving him insane.

So imagine his surprise when he bumped into Tony before he'd gotten toward the end of his journey toward the end of the train. Imagine his further surprise to find the man sporting a face like thunder and holding a bottle of something he knew wasn't water.

When he spoke, Gladio just looked at the man quietly for a long moment. Then he shrugged his one good shoulder and glanced past Tony toward where he imagined Ignis was. "... I doubt I'd be welcome there. Why? What's he done now?" There was... very little emotion in Gladio's voice. He just didn't have any more fucks to give.

Peter hasn't seen much of Tony in past few days aside from there normal coffee time, he's locked himself away figuratively in the dressing car to read and make calculations and plan out what he needs to ask the almighty train gods for when he has points again. He also needs to figure out how to get as many as possible as quickly as possible.

He comes into the lab for the first time in a few days with his arms full of his notes, Haibara's notes and the books he'd gotten recently.

"Hey Mr Stark can I talk to you-Have you talked to Conan recently?" He pauses to ask before noticing the gloomy feel of the the atmosphere. "...Are you okay?"

She might have little idea what is going on but she knows something is going on and so she has been very scarce from their room for a little while. She knows when to avoid grown ups and when they seem to be having trouble between themselves was a time for children to be scarce.

So she had been keeping her self busy, but she still woke in her bed. As did Tony. As did Ignis. She had a nose. She had grown up in an inn. She could tell when someone had spent a night drinking.

Tony had been one of the first people she had met on the train. He had given her a name. He was one of the most dangerous people she knew but he was often kind to her. Fed her, had even given her the strange fake bear. Now something had happened and he was hurt.

She had no idea how to ease hurts. But that didn't stop her turning up in the gym, watching silently as he tried to murder practice dummy's. At least whatever was going on, he was dealing with it productively, rather than being leaky faced.

Aaron had a nose for people who were hurting and for alcohol. He first peeked into the office to see Tony and a bottle of bourbon, then let himself in because the door was unlocked. He closed it behind him and sat next to Tony, speaking softly.

"I'm a little offended you not only neglected to offer me, your favorite angel, some of your liquor," his tone was playful, but shifted to be lower and more serious, "but that you'd also deprive me of one of the best views on this train." Aaron was not so close it was uncomfortable, but was closer to Tony than would be considered polite in most circumstances. He was looking directly at Tony, not even bothering with the void outside.

Tony was about to stop Joss from trying the booze, but he just couldn't help himself as an ornery grin crossed his lips. He waited. The reaction made him laugh. It wasn't quite as full as it usually was, but it was there.

By the time Joss could talk again, it had quieted and some of the cold was seeping back in. The situation sucked. He looked up curiously at where Joss was going with this. "Perhaps, but as soon as I go back there, I die. So I'm not really ever seeing them again." Although maybe there was a way to go back to them? If he could somehow channel May's timeline or Happy's.. hm.

"There's nothing that says we have to return to our time is there?"

He was just starting to wonder if he could find a blanket and stay in this room all night alone when the Thunderstorms showed up. He might have been able to beg off the company if it was one of them or if they hadn't brought dinner but.. it was more trouble than it was worth.

"You brought me dinner?" He asked, surprised. "I can offer booze but one of the cups will have to be a coffee cup."

He noted that Dread wasn't going to fit well in the booth seat across from him with his wife. "You can use that trunk over there for a seat."

Look, she can either hold the dummy, spar with him, ignore him, or get the hell out. Well, except this is Ple Two and he actually does like her.

His breathing was heavy as he turned to her at the advice. He was frustrated and angry, but the workout was doing wonders for his mood. That was likely the only reason he didn't snap at her (and would've felt awful about later). "Trying. Thought this was better than another bottle," he huffed out. "I knew I should've voted for the crocodiles.." He attempted a small smile, but his usual humor just wasn't very strong.

Joss takes off his glasses and wipes his still-watering eyes. At least Tony is doing him the courtesy of not calling him out on that mistake, though the shit-eating grin is enough indication of what he thinks about it.

“I don’t believe there is,” he agrees readily. “And also, I am quite literally living proof that the train can neatly circumvent the laws of mortality.” He still isn’t sure what to think about that. He has nightmares more often than not, remembering his death.

“...I have no intention of returning to my own home, at any rate. And I cannot follow Romeo back to his heaven, because he is dead and I am not.” He’s quite for a moment. “No, the only solution is for me to take you up on your offer. I should like to see your world.”

Edited 2020-04-18 00:58 (UTC)

Instead of his usual hard at work demeanor, when Bucky comes into the room, he'll find Tony with a blanket around his shoulders lounging with his back against the wall and legs stretched out across the seat. In his hand was his ring, which he carefully hid when his not!friend came through his door.

His eyebrows rose at seeing the delivery. Somehow, even though he'd asked for it, it was surprising how people were coming through for him over this. Particularly who was doing it.

"That doesn't look like liquor," he retorted, but it had no sting in his tone. In fact, his voice was subdued compared to his usual one.

Laughing, yes. Calling him out, no. They both knew what Joss had forgotten. No reason to belabor it. Plus, Tony just couldn't find enough strength to keep that up.

"I wonder how it would work if I came to a timeline I know I already succeeded in killing Thanos." The thought was intriguing. He hadn't had any hope left that he might actually go home. What if he really could go back to his family?

However, before he could think too far along those lines, Joss was speaking again. He frowned in sympathy hearing Joss and Romeo wouldn't be in the same place. He knew how much that would hurt the boy. He was just about to say something- though no idea just what- when Joss dropped a bomb on him.

He stared for a moment in shock before slowly his lips curled. "Really? You're sure?"

Tony frowned, unsure what that comment meant. In any other situation he would be asking too, but he just didn't have the space mentally to deal with anything else. He was reeling from what they'd decided and how this was going to change so much of his life here.

"Come on," he said, nodding toward the door. "If I have to tell you the story, I'm not doing it sober."

[OOC: Totally being lazy and using the starter from Bucky :D]

Instead of his usual hard at work demeanor, when Peter comes into the room, he'll find Tony with a blanket around his shoulders lounging with his back against the wall and legs stretched out across the seat. In his hand was his ring, which he carefully hid when the young man enters.

The rush of words was harder to follow than usual, but after a pause, he nodded. "Yes I've spoken with Conan. And.. yeah, I'll be fine. What's all of this?" He gestured toward the papers Peter had.

"Of course we did! All things considered." She scooted her way over to the booth seat, so Dread could divest himself of the tray. "Nor do I mind a coffee cup. Especially if there is also coffee with said booze."

That and she didn't want a great deal of booze--Tony indulging was one thing.

She reached over to take the lid off the tray, exposing what was going to be dinner--a salad with onions and greens, a small roast (but enough for three!) that had clearly been slow cooked over a bed of onions, a few hard-boiled eggs, and caramel flan for dessert. She glanced over at Dread, giving him a slight smile.

"Well, here it is, gentlemen. Dig in?"

Peter gives him a look like he doesn't really believe him and he's not buying it but Tony is the adult and his guardian so he's not really supposed to question it if Tony brushes something off. Not that he won't. But he's not supposed to.

"Um... s-so he told you about the fact that he's uh... not seven?" He tries, hoping that he's not about to just out Conan after he promised not to. Well, maybe if he has to, he can turn it around say that Conan had a birthday or something.

“Perfectly sure,” Joss says levelly, looking Tony straight in the eye. He’s being deadly serious. “Tony, I have no money. I left behind considerable fortune back in Islington, gained through through centuries of wicked and avaricious living—er, undeath, but I cannot collect it without returning to a world that will kill me as I am now. I find myself a completely average, if somewhat undersized, ten year old human child. I have no ability to care for myself anymore. Everyone who has ever professed to parent me is either long dead or in the same unreachable heaven that Romeo must return to, so I am an orphan. Given that fact, I have no desire to live the life of some poor Dickensian waif or wind up in care. But you.” He smiles shyly. “You offered me care, and protection, and affection even though I did nothing to earn it. You’re a far kinder soul than you pretend to be, Tony Stark. I should be honored to accept. Now more than ever. Though...”

He trails off and the ruthless practicality of a moment ago turns into something far more becoming of a child his age.

“You’ll forgive me if I have to work up to calling you ‘Dad.’ Still not quite used to the concept.”

Edited 2020-04-18 02:09 (UTC)

That's the whole point. She's small and cute, and while she doesn't always like to take advantage of it - she'd rather be seen as an adult in many respects - it might help her get him talking.

"I don't know if I can offer a very good sparring partner," she started; not that she couldn't defend herself, but size matters, "but I'll offer whatever little help with working it out of your system you need."

Tony listened, finding the information very bizarre when it was laid out in such a cold, logical way. He was beginning to feel like Joss was picking out the next best pair of boots to buy rather than adoption, at least until that last part. He would've honored his offer either way, but Joss would get the satisfaction of seeing Tony's resigned expression slowly change to surprise and then to a smile and soft laugh. The process took a few extra seconds than usual, thanks to the booze and the heartache.

He shook his head and gave a short laugh again. "You can keep calling me Stark, you know that doesn't matter. Just get over here, kid." This time when he was opening his arms to Joss, it was because he needed the hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of Joss' head and held him tight.

After a moment, he said with a sigh. "I'm sorry kid. You almost had two dads, not just one."

Sometimes, Joss needs the cold, ruthless logic. It’s safer. Emotions are messy and complicated and irrational. It’s why he had been rehearsing that exact speech for more than twenty minutes before he’d had the courage to knock on Tony’s door just now.

But he’s said it, and it feels like an enormous weight has been lifted. He’s relieved. Scratch that—he’s elated, but he won’t let Tony see it. Not when he’s gladly returning the hug and not even squirming away from the kiss.

But he’d also come in here to cheer Tony up, and he can’t help but feeling like he’s failing at it. “I know,” he says softly, “but you’re quite enough for me.”

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Page 1 of 4

Finding a New Normal

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Dinner for three with the Thunderstorms?

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Day 24

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Egret 22, evening

Evening in the lab.

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Office Drinks

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Re: Day 24

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Re: Evening in the lab.

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