tony (badass motherfucker) stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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abraxaslogs2021-12-11 10:12 am
privatizes) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-12-11 10:12 am
( CLOSED )
WHO: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, and Sam Wilson.
WHAT: The team decides to explore the Horizon post-introduction in order to see what else is out there. They find a bit more than expected.
WHEN: After Stephen and Tony are introduced to the Horizon, so likely mid-December.
WHERE: The Horizon.
WARNINGS: Discussion of death, etc.
[ the horizon is a bizarre place. following his first introduction to this weird place, tony needed to go back. the realm of possibility was an interesting thing, and if this entire world was based on understanding the singularity, and understanding that was the ticket to potentially getting out of here . . . well, there was no getting out of here, for tony. but understanding something will occupy his time, and so he meditates. and he goes back.
finding himself where he does, though, is more difficult than anticipated. he's struck stupid as his mind crafts the world around them, home. home. and even though tony knows that he's not at the compound, and none of this is real, he's still driven by the need to systematically search through every single room, every single nook and cranny, for morgan and pepper.
predictably, they are not there.
so tony soon makes his way to the front porch of the cabin, sinking into a chair that he's sat in a thousand times before. he can see the lake stretching in front of him, and the little tent and cabin morgan had built herself underneath a tree. idly, tony thinks about if she's doing alright. or if they had played her the message he had left. just in case.
part of him had always known this could happen. maybe he had been planning on it. but it doesn't change the fact that the grief is all-but suffocating. how badly had he been fucked up by the fact that he didn't have parents? or, more specifically, a present father? even if howard had done his best, it had still been horrifically lonely. had it been worse, after howard had died? tony couldn't remember. the funeral had been a blur. and until the attack, tony had simply signed checks and forced himself to ignore the truth, and had spiraled out of control to become . . . a mess. was that what awaited morgan, when the shock wore off? ]
Shut up.
[ it's said mostly to himself, letting his eyes close as he remains comfortable, forcing himself to relax, and focus on the sound of the water. birds chirping. trying to ignore the oppressive silence of everything else. but the silence doesn't last very long, as tony continues to talk to himself, adding: ]
I wonder if I can imagine some Xanax.
WHAT: The team decides to explore the Horizon post-introduction in order to see what else is out there. They find a bit more than expected.
WHEN: After Stephen and Tony are introduced to the Horizon, so likely mid-December.
WHERE: The Horizon.
WARNINGS: Discussion of death, etc.
[ the horizon is a bizarre place. following his first introduction to this weird place, tony needed to go back. the realm of possibility was an interesting thing, and if this entire world was based on understanding the singularity, and understanding that was the ticket to potentially getting out of here . . . well, there was no getting out of here, for tony. but understanding something will occupy his time, and so he meditates. and he goes back.
finding himself where he does, though, is more difficult than anticipated. he's struck stupid as his mind crafts the world around them, home. home. and even though tony knows that he's not at the compound, and none of this is real, he's still driven by the need to systematically search through every single room, every single nook and cranny, for morgan and pepper.
predictably, they are not there.
so tony soon makes his way to the front porch of the cabin, sinking into a chair that he's sat in a thousand times before. he can see the lake stretching in front of him, and the little tent and cabin morgan had built herself underneath a tree. idly, tony thinks about if she's doing alright. or if they had played her the message he had left. just in case.
part of him had always known this could happen. maybe he had been planning on it. but it doesn't change the fact that the grief is all-but suffocating. how badly had he been fucked up by the fact that he didn't have parents? or, more specifically, a present father? even if howard had done his best, it had still been horrifically lonely. had it been worse, after howard had died? tony couldn't remember. the funeral had been a blur. and until the attack, tony had simply signed checks and forced himself to ignore the truth, and had spiraled out of control to become . . . a mess. was that what awaited morgan, when the shock wore off? ]
Shut up.
[ it's said mostly to himself, letting his eyes close as he remains comfortable, forcing himself to relax, and focus on the sound of the water. birds chirping. trying to ignore the oppressive silence of everything else. but the silence doesn't last very long, as tony continues to talk to himself, adding: ]
I wonder if I can imagine some Xanax.
no subject
he goes out of his way to find the newcomers in the city, and between him and geralt and jaskier he feels he has a pretty decent hold on it. but the other cities, the other settlements - he has no way to know, short of checking in with the few contacts he has.
even then, it’s shoddy. it’s pieced together. it’s annoying. and that’s why - as he’s walking through the horizon, headed either from someone’s domain or to it, a familiar sight catches him. forces him to a stop mid-stride, mid-thought. his chest tightens, his stomach dropping. ]
Oh fuck. [ because he knows this cabin, he knows this lake. intimately and wholly - if asked, sam could probably have created this exact outside spot. this dock. this funeral.
his entire life changed on this shore, and tony stark has no idea.
but that means that someone does - not have an idea, necessarily, but knows this place. knows this cabin. logically, it’s not hard to know who. who would have this connection, who would go to these lengths, and sam takes just a moment to let that set in.
tony stark - alive. tony stark - who may or may not know. tony stark - who the last time sam had any actual conversation with had been through high tech prison bars. he takes a breath, steadying himself, before making the decision. to hell with whatever else he had planned today (one upside to most of the people who would care about his schedule being gone) because it’s all changed now.
he heads inside, up onto the porch and trying the handle of the front door. there’s no way to tell what tony can sense or what he couldn’t - all sam does is open the unlocked front door, leans his head inside. ]
Knock knock?
no subject
a hallucination. but tony immediately dismisses the thought from his mind, because -- quite frankly -- if whatever is at play here were to send an avenger through the door of his house to trick him, it wouldn't be sam. it would be steve, or natasha, or peter. someone who knew tony inside and out -- or, in the case of peter, someone tony would bend over backwards to keep safe.
not sam wilson. so once tony rules out that this is fake . . . sam is here? in the horizon? trapped here? but not in solvunn. he would have found sam by now, so somewhere else?
fucking christ. ]
Fancy meeting you here.
[ the voice floats in from another room, and tony soon appears in a doorway, arms crossed tightly over his chest. he's wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a loose zip-up sweatshirt over that. on any other day, a normal image of tony. including the chronic anxiety. what should he say? what does anyone say, when you . . . well, die.
tony could barely remember who was standing over him, at the end. pepper, steve. rhodey. he knows peter was there. was sam, in the background? his vision was fuzzy, zero'd in on pepper reassuring him that everything was fine. ]
I feel like religion sort of lied. [ his tone is blithe, as tony rests a shoulder against the doorway, letting his eyes wander around the room. ] About the whole "do good things and you go good places" thing. Although I guess my sins might outweigh the rest of it.
[ and tony resettles his gaze on sam's, lips pursed into a thin frown. ]
I was hoping to do better than Purgatory. Hell would've been more interesting, probably. Way better company -- no offense.
no subject
it’s different from the quick glance he’d gotten when they stepped inside during the funeral. different than the empty and dark shadows that had filled the space when tony stark was no longer around. but sam couldn’t have told you why - his attention, that day, had been on steve. on the fact it hadn’t been sam’s first funeral at steve’s side, and how it would end up being his last.
he takes a breath, running a hand over his head and along the back of his neck, before a voice appears. or, rather, it doesn’t appear so much as it responds. sam jumps, only because his eyes had been somewhere else entirely, and when he looks up and sees tony fucking stark, standing in the doorway, like nothing had changed.
sam’s throat goes dry, his mind temporarily blank, as he tries to find his footing. and then, as sam should have expected, tony keeps talking, and sam realizes that he knows. he knows he dies, and he’s assuming this place is…god. ]
Not sure it’s that simple. [ about purgatory, hell, the afterlife. sam’s not dead (unless there’s something else no one is telling him, which he decides is not something to try and dwell on today) so as much as tony’s reaching for that casual acceptance, sam can’t let him get comfortable with it.
sam doesn’t step inside any further, feeling a bit like an intruder in someone’s memories. ]
Guessing this isn’t your first time in the Horizon? [ it’s a safe question because sam already knows the answer, and after a moment, he lets out a sigh. ] Where’d you get pulled through? [ because he’s not in the cities; if he was, sam would know about it. and if tony stark had been let loose on thorne… ]
no subject
[ it's not said to insult sam; on the contrary, tony just sounds tired. but he follows up his statement with a wave of his hand, turning to head back into the room where he was originally sitting. the kitchen, with a nice overview of the lake. there's also a glass of water on the counter, something tony picks up to take a sip of before continuing to talk, not bothering to see if sam followed him in. ]
Solvunn. [ he answers that question first, fingers drumming once on the butcher's block portion of the kitchen island. ] And one of the people there took me here once, showed me how it worked. Decided to come back after I spent a day or two feeling sorry for myself. And, you know, not really sure if I regret it or not.
[ he's talking to just fill space, now, something he's guilty of doing . . . a lot. how many times had steve just sat there in silence and listened to tony prattle on about nothing before going so we're doing this, right? why in the fuck had he answered the door, why had he answered the door -- ]
Could be worse, though, in terms of mental prisons.
[ he adds, letting his gaze settle on the lake outside. ]
no subject
tony turns and sam does follow him into the kitchen, though he remains - hovers - close to the door. the memories that come to him aren't happy ones, not really, but hopes tony doesn't take them as sam simply being awkward. so instead, he slides his hands into the back pocket of his jeans, nods when tony does answer - filling space, talking to talk. ]
I'm in Cadens, out near the Free Cities. [ not that tony asked, but sam figures the information is worth sharing. sam follows tony's eyes out to the lake, and then immediately feels uncomfortable - remembering steve, remembering the shield. he pushes off where he'd been leaning against the doorframe, his eyes suddenly just about anywhere else. ] And yeah, for an mass hallucination you can choose to join at any time, it could be worse. [ there's some sarcasm there, but sam thinks he's allowed. ]
Not sure how they do it in the farming commune over there, but I'm guessing they gave you some kind of welcome speech.
no subject
[ because, truth be told, they could be lying. this entire system seems bullshit as a whole, and there's no need to give them any credence. he could use his brain space for something more lucrative, like generating electricity. figuring out how to create technology from the ground up. working to get the fuck out of here so people can go home. something, literally anything, than involve himself in this nonsense.
he's dancing around the inevitable, though. and tony turns to sam, lips pressed tightly together in a frown. he doesn't want to ask the next question. asking the next question means opening the door to getting involved, and getting involved apparently only ends in one route. which is death. but he's already dead, so what's the point in asking? still, something in him noticeably balks, before tony decides to just spit it out. ]
So . . . what? Are you the only one who got dragged here? Any other Avengers? I'm guessing Steve isn't here. [ and he considers just leaving it at that, before tony adds: ] He'd be here apologizing or whatever other sanctimonious bullshit I don't want to hear.
no subject
sam doesn't exactly fault him. and really, it's nothing he really needed to know either. but it's just so tony stark (in the way sam knows him to be - via steve, via nat, via their very limited interactions and what he knows the man to be through interviews and bios done about him) that sam. almost needs a second to let that sink in.
the question, though, has sam looking back over to him. wondering if that's the question he actually wants to ask or if they're both just avoiding a larger conversation neither of them really want to delve into. ]
Not at the beginning, I wasn't. When I first got here, Barnes was here and Strange, too. Then, couple months later, the kid- Parker. [ which- god. okay. that's a conversation sam's not entirely keen on having. the multiverse is real, by the way and then also you owe me a drink, I had to tell the kid you died. god, sam's gonna need more than a drink after this. ] None of them are around, anymore, and Steve never showed up. Not that I've known of, anyway, but as we just found out [ sam gestures at tony. ] that doesn't mean he couldn't be out there somewhere.
[ a beat, and then sam has an idea, his brow furrowing. ] We could probably walk the Horizon, to check. Anyone who's made it in will have one of these corners, we could probably pick his out if we wanted to look.
no subject
not his problem. definitely not his problem.
but the mention of peter does spark something of a visceral reaction, a short exhale. the kid just can't stay in queens to save his life. but he's not here, anymore. presumably to return home? or somewhere else. who the fuck knows. it isn't as if this place is endeared to tony in any way, shape, or form.
it takes a moment for tony to process what sam is suggesting. wandering around. trying to find other people. the thought makes him want to move, immediately. the larger part of him wants to never leave this cabin again. and he's about to say so when he realizes that pepper and morgan might be here, trapped somewhere else. in their own corner of this bizarre wasteland. the thought is paralyzing, his heartbeat escalating into an anxious thrum that he's been here moping while they could be somewhere else.
the odds are astronomically small. but there are still odds. what had strange said, in the end? one out of fourteen billion scenarios, to defeat thanos? and it had magically come true, with a snap of his fingers. ]
I was retired, you know.
[ it's said with a huff of breath, as tony pushes himself up from leaning against the counter. ]
But sure, you know what? Fuck it. [ it's said airily, with the tiniest spark of tony on the end of the last syllable. it's forced, but at the end of the day: ] This broken dumpster fire of a universe apparently can't fix itself without an ounce of my effort behind the squeaky wheel, so sure. Why not. Let's go traipsing around people's little thought bubbles and see who we can find.
[ and, as tony moves past sam toward the front door: ]
Can't wait until we run into someone who wants us dead. Odds are pretty high, with the whole multiverse thing. Evil Steve with a weird moustache telling us he hates America or something, can't wait.
no subject
( or, possibly, it could be something else. sam taks a risk assuming he'll get something out of him. then again, he also wasn't going to potentially mention the family tony left behind - something about the false hope, about mentioning family considering how sam last left the starks, doesn't feel right. )
I was retired, you know. tony says, and sam actually gives him a small smile at that. ]
Me too.
[ not that tony would know, or it has any direct comparison to what is happening, but sam gets it. had once thought himself retired, too. but their situations are different, way different, and even then sam doesn't know the whole story of tony's five years. doesn't really know if it's his place to know - and feels almost relieved of the responsibility of asking is taken from him.
and maybe it's just because it's tony stark, and maybe it's because the ghost of steve rogers is still sitting somewhere between them, but sam actually finds he's able to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the ego that flashes forward. actually feels like he kind of, in a strange way, has the patience. tony moves by him to the door and sam only needs one moment to breathe, to think he might actually fix everything and that's the worst part, before turning and following him out the door. ]
Good thing we can't die in here, then, huh? But somehow wouldn't be the weirdest thing I've come across. There's a guy here who walks around as an active volcano just 'cause he feels like it. [ rip kylo ren. ] Turns out when there are no real limits to what you can create, people end up kind of creative.
[ he has been through this horizon situation a few times, so he'll let tony take the lead if he really wants to, but if there is any amount of hesitation, sam is just going to start off in the direction of areas he know much be new. and he's going to keep walking until they come across anything even slightly familiar. ]
no subject
And, at the center of it all, sits a townhouse that very obviously looks out of place — its Western-inspired architecture seems ripped right off of the streets of New York; minus the neighbors, minus the crowds milling by, and with the strange addition of a rather hard-to-miss, circular skylight.
The paradoxical sight is odd for those who don’t know who this domain belongs to. But for any who do—maybe even passingly—the peculiarity is all but expected.
Meanwhile, though, the host of this place is nowhere to be seen. Not just yet, anyway.]
no subject
he supposes an added bonus would be to find people they know. the itch underneath his skin to find pepper and morgan is always present, but he knows they likely aren't here. they would be with him, wouldn't they?
the cold burst of wind hits him, first. the mountains form into view, and tony vaguely recognizes the style of architecture. southeast asia, maybe? but that's soon ignored in favor of seeing the very familiar, very out of place townhouse. ]
You are kidding me.
[ it's said underneath his breath, because of all fucking people -- and tony's steps quicken, all but ignoring sam in the process, raising his voice without much more warning: ]
Where're you at, Dumbledore? [ stephen, you know, has a name. and tony idly considers leaving it at that before he adds, tone sharp and aggravated: ] Ghost of Christmas Past has come to show you the error of your ways, Tiny Tim's got some words!
[ the words almost vanish into the cold, but that's not stopping him from marching himself right up those steps to bang on the door of the house. ]
no subject
still, he heads out with tony with only the expectation of maybe - hopefully - finding someone. there's a bit of a desperate hope they find someone if only because he's only a little worried about what this continent will turn into with only him to rein in tony stark. but what he doesn't expect is for tony to recognize where they are before he does, and it leaves him abruptly changing his direction in the middle of the mountains (okay, he might have also been a bit distracted, thinking they accidentally wandered into geralt's domain) but then he notices the townhome, in addition to the tone at which tony calls out, and he's just. trying to keep up. ]
Uh, what...? [ to sam's credit, he does try and put the pieces together. but, like many in the midst of tony stark, he finds himself just trying to catch up as they both make it to the townhouse.
sam looks around, trying to figure out if he does actual recognize where they are or if that unsettling feeling has more to do with the entire situation than the townhouse itself. still, something about it... he shakes his head. ]
You gonna share with the class what you figured out?
[ tony, please. help. ]
no subject
I’m right here. You don’t need to yell.
[Should they turn around, Stephen stands with his arms crossed just at the bottom of the steps. His brow is wrinkled and his mouth is a hard line, the look of someone performing mental gymnastics with a torrent of new information based on this one moment alone. The way his eyes rake over his two visitors is telling.
Here, two men from his world stand. For all intents and purposes, one of them should not even be standing here at all, barring multiversal shenanigans tying themselves into a knot so complicated that it gives Stephen a headache to even humor, or timelines shearing themselves short, or something far simpler: he’s looking at a dead man walking.
There’s a steel ball-bearing lodging itself in his chest somewhere. That Wilson and Stark are here no longer exists in the realm of impossible, given their situation; but Stephen suddenly feels void of key information, as though he should have been aware of either man’s presence the moment they stepped into Horizon, and his jawline ticks.]
Sam Wilson and Tony Stark.
[The former he knows so laughably little about, the latter he knows in troublesome passing. What does someone even say as introduction? Well, Stephen’s never cared too much for beating around the bush.]
Definitely not the visitors I expected, for a few reasons.
no subject
he waves off sam impatiently, instead focusing his attention on the stupid wizard in front of him: ]
Sorry to disappoint in terms of a grand finale; I've always been an encore kind of guy.
[ tone derisive, fingers clenching into fists at his sides. fighting to remain calm and think with his head, but having a hard go of it. ]
Haven't met each other yet, have you? [ with a gesture toward sam wilson, irritated. ] Sam Wilson, meet Stephen Strange. And before you ask, that is his real name, he decides to keep using it despite being a superhero, and he does practice some tacky form of magic out of his brownstone in the city.
[ how many strings were pulled, and how many were designed to ensure tony did what he was supposed to do? all questions he needs answers to, but will keep inside his head, for now. better to drill that out of stephen without anyone else present.
but tony does add, tone slipping from baseline irritability to something a little more frosted: ]
Former keeper of the Time Stone, and orchestrator of the endgame.
no subject
sam turns towards the voice, seeing stephen up on the steps, and fights the sudden relief he feels at the sight of him. they don't have history back home, and sam is reluctant to believe this stephen strange is the same as the one he knew before (thanks, multiverse) but still. someone he has any connection with, who knows magic. who knows traveling magic. it's a relief he's here at all. ]
We- [ or at least, sam tries to start into some sort of pleasantries. some sort of introductions. but he unfortunately, momentarily, forgot that he was with tony stark. which also meant that tony, immediately, was talking instead. not only talking, but very obviously...upset. sam notices the fingers clenching, the irritation in the words, the...what? compensating? sam's not sure what to call it, he's not yet fluent in tony stark, but there's certainly something there.
a bit like a sports match, sam's eyes go from stephen to tony and then back again, brows lifting. as if he's waiting for stephen's reaction, shock or acceptance or argument. he's not exactly sure what he stepped into, here, but it's a little more tense than he was initially expecting. but one thing tony says catches him more than the others. ]
And when you say endgame...?
no subject
In the end, assuredness—and a little bit of pride—win out. He can understand why Stark is irate, cold, and dangling unspoken blame in his direction. In a roundabout way, Stephen had made the decision of a greater sacrifice for him; weighed the future of the universe versus the potential future of one man, and declared one more valuable than the other. Yes, it was calculated, and he would do it again if necessary.
But it wasn’t easy, despite how committed he’d always been to duty and protection of their reality. The doctor in him could never be stamped out, his care for the people who exist in the here and now is not so easy to push aside for the sake of being clinical. He should not have to apologize for what he’s done, he should not have a spotlight thrown onto him that expects a show of regret. He’s aware of what he’s stolen from Stark, what he’s exchanged to guarantee their victory.
Someone had to do it. Someone had to make the—]
I had to make the call. [Words finally come out, pointed and precise.] There was no other choice.
[That much was for Tony's sake. But he’s well-aware of Sam standing here, too, likely lost in the exchange, and while Stephen doesn’t rip his eyes away from Tony, he provides clarification. He isn’t going to pretend it’s some dark, terrible secret.]
Short version: I used the Time Stone to peer into countless future scenarios, various attempts in which we all tried to defeat Thanos. More than fourteen million of them.
[He lived them out, all those failed attempts. Died and reset, tried again. Died and reset, tried again. But that isn’t the point; they don’t need to know that.]
And there was only one that worked — one in which he [gestures at Tony, mechanically] sacrificed himself to guarantee a final victory. But everything had to perpetuate itself to get to that point. Cause and effect, all of it leading to that one critical moment.
Giving up the Time Stone was the first critical step that’d lead to a winnable endgame. So I did.