o1 👨‍💻 Nothing like a big bad bridge (open)

[servomotor]

Characters: Tony Stark, CR, & YOU
Summary: A smol average height technologist superhero man goes about his business in the wake of war and random comedic holiday shenanigans. Some closed starters in the comments.
Date(s): Catch-all for January 2018!
Warnings/Notes: Mental illness, manpain, etc. Maybe some sexual content in here eventually!



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Whether in this world or the last, Tony Stark manages to be both a highly private person and incredibly easy to find. Most of the time, he can be found in his workshop, where he invents and repairs a range of machinery for people. Lately, he's been working on copying Xistentia's emotional energy conversion technology and turn it into something that the average citizen (or above average, depending on your self-concept) can use. Behold: sewing machines and weaving looms that feed off bursts of emotional inspiration, coffee machines fueled by your addict's desperation, and cars that go a little faster because you really really want them to!

The rest of the time, he might be found out and about, often in the iconic red suit. He's often preoccupied with brokering deals to acquire more scrap from the beach or trade with other people from contemporary worlds. You might catch him in dry debate, negotiating; you might even find yourself waved over and asked for your honest opinion about the value of a piece of chassis or energy source, in the middle of an otherwise incomprehensible technobabble conversation. Just remember: there is definitely a right answer.

However, in his off-hours, you might instead find him at your local liquor establishment or listening to some live multiversal music downtown, wearing an Immensely Doubtful expression on his bearded face. On the other hand, it's Tony Stark. Maybe that's just what his rich white boy face looks like.

Comments

[dothelokimotion]

Then I do not see the point. I can acknowledge what I've done, but I will not fake or scrape for forgiveness. So I ask you again. What is it you want? Otherwise, go pontificate at yourself in the mirror.

[ Of course, again, the conversation turns to Thor. As if everything Loki does has to do with Thor. He hates it because it has the stench of a truth Loki cannot fully escape, even with Asgard's dust behind him. The simmer of frustration is in his eyes, bright as a star. While Thor is more boisterous, he is steady as a hammer. Loki's passions are sudden, dangerous sparks that makes one's head spin, drawing them in. He moves closer, his form wavering in the ozone. Loki may not have the kind of power Thor has, but his divine presence still holds weight, charging the very air. ]

You have some nerve, Stark, to speak of me and my brother. As if you didn't see for yourself when you traipsed into my head. As if you do not know.

[servomotor]

[Tony thinks about leaving. Don't think he doesn't. He thinks about leaving because it would be his fucking right, you know. Sure, maybe Thor's allowed to get past some guy killing a bunch of people on your planet— just like Pepper's allowed to get with the guy responsible for dozens of deaths among American soldiers. But Tony doesn't have to be here, as much as he doesn't deserve or need to forgive himself, and move on from the horror he was responsible for. It wouldn't change anything.

But for a billionaire playboy philanthropist, he's not very good at leaving, actually. He hangs over New York City and its bluecollar work force like a bad stench, mingled in with the ravages of the Chitauri, the legacy of hisf ather. He hangs over the whole of his planet that way. Sometimes, he even leaves deliberate marks. Arc reactor technology, PTSD visualization devices.]

I'm asking because I did see, [Tony says.] I know that jagweed monster in your head isn't the guy you have at your back right now. Like I know not being able to predict who and what you'll become if you do this thing is part of what's -- nerve-wracking about it. But I'm telling you, you'll still be yourself after. You'll be who you were meant to.

Don't tell me you don't believe in fate.

[There's a light edge of a joke to it. But inside his helmet, Tony isn't smiling.]

[dothelokimotion]

[ The waves lap gently over Loki's boots, soaking them with sea-water. Even now, the sensation feels alien and cold. Asgard had no seas. All he could remember were the constant rush of sound coming from the rapids as they poured over the edge of the universe. ]

Everything I believed in is gone. Of course, all of it was a lie but — [ He shrugs carelessly. Tony has hit it on the nail and Loki is unnerved. There was an itch under his skin that was slowly subsiding, the maniacal energy that had surfaced so quickly ebbing away with the tide. ]

Who I'm meant to be? You don't know that. I don't know that. Freedom, it seems, is still life's greatest lie.

[ What he is now are scraps, broken china pieces oddly fitted together. He can't go back to the way he was. He can't keep playing the villain because his sister Hela has far outdone him in that regard. He is no longer Odin's monster or Odin's pawn. He barely — barely qualifies as Thor's brother. He is not necessary to Asgard, to anyone. He could vanish and be forgotten. Like Hela. It's why Loki was always perplexed by Thor's mourning. He never quite understood it.

Deep down, he would like someone — anyone — to tell him what he could be. More what? More who? ]

[servomotor]

Then don't think of it as freedom.

[There's a split second where Tony doesn't feel like he's inside himself. He's far away, staring down through his HUD, the holographic arrows and spinning diagrams, at the two tiny figures of men on the beach. A Jotun with wet shoes, a tin man who somehow thinks to advise on having a heart. Ridiculous.

But so is the end of the world. The Multiverse. Anything that unlikely becomes ridiculous, until it happen. Trees falling through the roof, homes falling through the Earth. Fire careening out of a black sky.]

Maybe it's the opposite. [Fridayd notes his vitals are spiking, but it's nothing to be too concerned about. He ignores her.] Not being able to escape everything that made you. But having some say in what you become. Having intention about it, instead of-- waiting for the next bad thing to happen. The next punch in the nuts. The next chance. The next shitty human who reminds you of what you did. You can choose to take part of the past into the future. You just have to look at it first.

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki doesn't speak for a long time. Whether he's listening or not, it's hard to tell. Any sign (the bobbing of the adam's apple, the pinch of his brow) could be lies, placed there to elicit a sympathetic response. Or, more telling, is the lack of it, a polished mirror, reflecting back at those who speak to him. He's a chameleon boy. Always have been. ]

Is that what you tell yourself, Stark?

[servomotor]

Contrary to popular reputation, I prefer practical implementation as much, if not more than talking about it.

[Tony can tell when a conversation's over, though. He can read a room. The way he frequently offends and bothers people is not because he fails to read the room; it's because he says what he means despite it.]

Good job, Loki. B+ for teamwork. Maybe I'll see you around.

[His boots power on again.]

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki snorts delicately as he walks off, fading from view. Some things do not merit a response. ]