Tony Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nonstopnarcissist) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2018-10-01 06:17 am
nonstopnarcissist) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2018-10-01 06:17 am
Here's to my future, Here's to my yesterday
WHO: Tony Stark
WHERE: Village, Forge, Spring
WHEN: September 29th - October 7th
OPEN TO: Marked prompts are locked, ota marks are ota
WARNINGS: Swearing, descriptions of canon appropriate violence, recreational weed use
WHERE: Village, Forge, Spring
WHEN: September 29th - October 7th
OPEN TO: Marked prompts are locked, ota marks are ota
WARNINGS: Swearing, descriptions of canon appropriate violence, recreational weed use
September 29th - [ Locked to Iron Bull, Kamala, Elena, Steve Rogers ]
He doesn't know why he thought it'd be a stroke of midnight kind of deal, a bibbity-bobbity-fuck-you' sort of thing but, well, he thought it'd be one moment of having a full, unscarred chest and all his youthful spring and a jolt before he went back to having a chest full of shrapnel scarring and shitty, shitty knees. A more gradual decline is- well. Probably less traumatic and more reasonable, thank you mysterious sciencey bullshit magic overlords, but no thank you, not really. By the time he makes his way to the Inn some of the grey hair's back, the ache in his shoulders from working the forge hard and long for the last two weeks, settling in, an odd hitch to his breathing he cant quite peg as being mostly normal until it wasn't. It's nothing, he's fine, this was expected, right? Right. Just means he takes a little bit longer to squint down at his notes while he eats lunch, stands up slow as his spine pops like a set of firecrackers when he clears out.
Work, predictably, slows down somewhat at the Forge. He can't hit as hard, as long, as he might've the day before- which is probably a sign shit is going down with his system but denial thy name is Tony 'Fuck You I Reject Your Reality And Substitute My Own' Stark. He's not going to give in to the fact the hammer feels heavier, drawing the wire feels more difficult, or that he's got a building migraine (Which he hadn't had for the past two weeks, what a fucking joy it's been). Nope. He's sweating, taking breaks, and denying that he should probably just. Take a day. One more hour? Maybe two.
End of the day- earlier than he's been clearing out for the last while- and he's resigned himself to taking maybe one or two days of just to recover. Admitting that yeah, he's back to how he was when he arrived, now (minus the hole Thanos gave him) at least to himself Tony's taking a not so long walk to the Fountain for a bucket to shut down the forge- leaving it to burn attended for that Long? Asking for trouble. It's not the walk to the Fountain. It's not dropping the bucket in and filling it, it's hauling it up that hits him hardest. He manages- barely, to get it up to the lip before that hitch he's had all day doubles down and locks in with, oh, right, he's missing parts of his lungs and shit- and he's forgotten how to breathe through it. Tony slumps against the ledge, hand pressed to his chest, eyes squeezed shut as he tries and fails to get any actual air in his mangled lungs.
October 1 - 7th OTA
Two days of weren't exactly enough after pushing so hard for so long and letting it all catch up to him- Tony'll never admit it, not in a million years, but he's...taking it easy. Handling theoretical work for the time being. Which means research at the School House, or hiking all the way over to the Mill to see what he's working with RE getting some kind of analog power set up- or making a hydroelectric power a more consistent kind of deal. He'd been by before but now? It's less pacing and measuring, more sitting, listening to the wheel work, and letting his mind wander. It's actually kind of peaceful.
The hooka of weed probably doesn't hurt much either, but joint pain is joint pain and self medicating is something he's got a history of. As long as he's tucked up in the mill he's not likely to expose Pete or Kamala to the terrible habit. Theoretical Engineering under the influence has always led to some interesting (only somewhat implausible) ideas. Couldn't hurt.
Most nights he makes the trek out to the Springs- only once measuring a flattish area for changing stalls or whatever before giving up on it for the time being. His stuff's packed up somewhere safe (in a zebra print bag that use to be a snuggie, tied to a tree) He's got a canteen of water and a few peaches to gnaw on. Might as well double dip on bullshit accelerated healing assistants.
Later still, when he can't sleep, when he can't work due to lack of light or lack of energy he sits on the porch of House 34 staring out into the night, mug of tea at his elbow. Quiet. Contemplative like he normally isn't, hands twisting and turning a length of delicate chain between his fingers as he wills himself into exhaustion- or at the very least attempts to do so.
no subject
Turning it all inward? Only twisted Tony's gut. He- made a bad call, probably. Taking it back wouldn't change what happened and he knew himself well enough to know that he...probably won't quit if the system keeps working.
It doesn't mean anything. It was an easily obtained chemical cocktail to unwind him managed in the simplest way possible. "It's complicated." The Stark Default response when shit in fact was complicated- but also when they didn't feel like unpacking the hows or whys or depths of their motivation. Some lessons from Howard stuck. Two words for an hour's worth of explanation. "She might not but- I wouldn't discourage it. Jealousy isn't a thing for me."
Not in the same way it was for other people. Did he feel it? Sure. Did he let it devour him? No, it gave way to the rationalization that he didn't deserve her and it was due to come around eventually anyway- so. "But that doesn't necessarily mean it wouldn't be a thing for her. Bull's not on the exclusive short list of allowed deviations."
Mostly because Pepper didn't know him or know of him, he was't a thing back home. An argument could be made, maybe, but- he'd stepped out of bounds here. "You can though, is the thing. Get emphatic. Get upset. You're able to if you need to- about this or anything else. Arguments get loud but you and I both now we'll work it out. I mean- you didn't walk away from me over Ross. I think we're rock solid." In so many ways. He squeezed Bruce's hand back, huffing quietly. "Bruce- you're my friend. I don't have many of those. You don't need to give me orgasms or distract me from my own brain. You don't need to worry about me getting sick of you."
no subject
"Jealousy is a thing for me. To a lesser extent than how it works for other people. Betty's married, and I'm happy for her, but I'm jealous of the life he gets to have with her. If Nat finds love, I'll feel the same way, even if we were never really anything. Happy and sad at the same time." It came more from loss than anything, from regret and what he might have had but didn't deserve. He is slightly amused. "Of course you had a list. That's what couples do now, right? We joked about ours all those years ago, Steve was on hers, how awkward would that be now?" That was when Steve was dead as far as they knew, so it was a joke list. Neither of them would ever stray.
Bruce frowns at Tony, using his free hand to run fingers through his hair affectionately. "It sounds like you want me to be angry at you. Is that what you want? Someone to yell at you?" He was going to worry about people getting sick of him no matter what, it was how his brain worked. There was no cure to low self-esteem. "I'm not a yeller. I don't like any of this. It upsets me. I think I've explained parts of why. I think you're doing the wrong thing. But you're a grown man who is going to do what you want, and I'm a grown man who will have to suck it up." It was simple in that way. Bruce would put it out of his mind. Out of sight out of mind. "Just warn me if I'm going to be kicked out of our bed any time soon. I can sleep in the schoolhouse." Yep it was their bed. No sense in pretending otherwise.