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FEATURING Tony Stark, his pile of junk, whoever wants to hop in eyyy
WHAT'S HAPPENING? catch-all post please bother Iron Man
DAY Any time in February
CW Ego to rival Ego's, will add if necessary
NOTES Tony is officially known as the Crazy Junk Man to the natives. I encourage everyone to make up rumours they've heard about him from the locals please

Hatching a plan

Tony has been to the hospital. Needed a microscope. While he was scrounging around for one with an electrical cord not chewed through by the wildlife (and dancing in his bare feet around the piles of rat poop on the floor), he'd seen it. Right out the window. A firehouse. And just like that a plan had formed in his mind.

He'd seen the port on the island in the middle of the Seine. There had to be radio equipment there. Equipment that could connect to both towers and satellites. He wanted it.

Things are hardly so easy as saying “I need it” and telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to buy it for him. Here, anyway. So he's standing in wherever the sand is kept and stopping technicians or whoever else is around to sign at them in his clumsy grasp of the langauge:

How much?

He's here to make a purchase.

((OOC: Tony is looking for sand to explore the firehouse next to the hospital. His plan is to put together some working firesuits + oxygen tanks and raid the port on Ile Lacroix at some point in the future.))

Sunday School for ABCs and 123s

And that's how you make a closed circuit. Any questions?

[Tony ignores the hands that rise up. It's Sunday and as per his job he's teaching class at the town hall to pull his weight in the community. Not his first choice for a job, but he's hard put to deny the local kids (and assorted others) instruction in what he knows. Most knowledge beyond your typical hamlet occupations (and the construction of solar panels) seems to have been lost to the vagaries of time. Not only can he help, he wants to help.

But also he does hate teaching. It's a kind of catch-22.]

For next week I want you to build something and bring it in. Doesn't matter what. Let's get an idea of your collective skill as a class.

[He stops, finished. The class stares back. ... Clearly some kind of social cue is missing here because he meant that for them to skedaddle and not be his problem anymore. A long pause.]

Class dismissed. Get out of here. Shoo.

Old Mr. Stark

[Not much preamble here. If you pass house 1 you may just see some children racing (disturbingly quiet, the locals have their Pocahontas colors of the wind skills down to an art) around from the back, hands over their mouths and shoulders shaking as they contain giggles. Tony is following at as quick a pace as he dares, hands signing STAY OFF MY LAWN after them.

All he's missing is a cane to shake.]

221b Baker Street

[Tony has the hood of one of the abandoned cars up in the main area of the settlement. He's looking over the engine, cherry picking parts he wants with sure and careful hands and tools. A sampling of clothes are draped over the side of the car where he can grab them to muffle tools and parts as needed. On the ground by his feet is a backpack already filled with several parts wrapped in cloth. Everything's going well enough, streaks of dirt covering Tony's bare arms and one right across the bridge of his nose aside. That is until the rod holding up the hood suddenly plunges through the rusted chassis of the car. The hood comes dropping down.

It's an agonizingly tense moment as Tony reaches out to put his arm between the hood and the engine bed with surprisingly quick reflexes. He just manages to catch it, heart beating loudly in his ears, blood rushing, with the surge of adrenaline and fear at what such a loud noise might bring. And then the pain flares up: the hood's cut into his arm, blood welling up around the rusted metal and beginning to run.

Oh. That's not good. Idly he wonders, as he grits his teeth to prevent from making a sound, when the last time he received his tetanus booster was.]

Pick a card

Want something else? Toss it at me! PM or

doublepewpew for plotting, but also I'll roll with whatever, no need to ask.

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[Kara has a lot of questions. Holy toledo, how do Lena and Winn and all the other people at the DEO do this kind of thing regularly? They take and they build stuff and put it together and it works! Kara's pretty good at Ikea, which has always been a secret talent of hers, but... this is not Ikea.

She's staring at her bits and pieces as Tony dismisses the class, unsure of what she learned, which is really frustrating. She went to college for journalism. She did great work in college. She was always a good student! She's never been a bad student before. Then again, she's also missed a few of Tony's classes apparently. She had no idea this stuff was really going on... Geez Louise, she's lost so much time to Kilgrave.

She shakes her head. She's not going there! Onwards and upwards! That's the name of the game. And the name of this game is learning electronic stuff so she can build her very own solar panel. She's got plans.

Hopefully she doesn't need a closed circuit for these plans, though, because yeesh. She sweeps her bits and pieces into her hand and holds it behind her back as she makes her way up to Tony with a bright smile. She'd opted to forego the supersuit for something like this, choosing instead a smart, business millennial look.]

Hey there! My name's Kara. Thanks for the lesson. I did have a question, though, actually, if you have a second?

Edited 2018-02-21 12:28 (UTC)

[Tony looks the young woman over, momentarily caught in a N O P E expression. He wants to get back to his own work. But he can see she's ahead of the curve here (someone not dressed in a jumpsuit? he's not sure he can trust his eyes) and it makes him more inclined to give her some time.]

I think you're the first person I've seen not dressed in a onesie. Sure. Shoot. What's on your mind.

Oh! [Kara glances down at herself. she's got two jumpsuits from her stay here, folded up on the floor of a mostly-barren closet in her house. but she's gotten so used to wearing her own clothes again, she doesn't think about it anymore.] Right! Yeah, I got these when I got my own place.

[annnnnyway...] So! Right. Question. Solar panels. I'm kind of in the market for them. I don't know how to build one, though.

[When he heard someone was teaching about tech skills, Sora immediately joined the class. Building things was something he could do even if sometimes the technobabble went over his head. He's even brought himself some paper and an old pen to write it all down.

After the class is over, he waits for all of the other students to leave - Sora doesn't want any of them to overhear what he's about to say.]

I need your help. The natives are building me something - a stasis pod. [A sigh and he ruffles the back of his hair.] It keeps me alive when I experience Clone Sickness but that's all it does. The doctors who created me weren't concerned about fixing the problem, they'd just replace the body and transfer my thoughts and memories to a new one.

But they're dead now and I know very little about the tech side of these pods. I want to try to modify it so that it doesn't just keep my body alive but so that it can fix the problem.

[Ah. Well. There's a moment of silence as Tony processes that. Looks over his shoulder to make certain Helen Cho isn't standing there. Turns back to the teen in front of him.]

Well. That's...different. Not really a Sunday school kind of question.... [He trails off before leaping into:] And, you are?

[Name, son. He's going to need one because this work is going to take a while.]

[When Tony looks over his shoulder, Sora does too. Not for Helen Cho but to check that no one's there at all.]

Yeah, it's not really. [Which is why he waited until after everyone was gone.] But it seemed like you know a lot about technology so I thought you'd be able to help. My name is Sora.

[Not even the Facility's best engineers could modify the pods.]

[“I thought you'd be able to help.” If that isn't an Hallmark special right there. From Sora's demeanor the topic obviously weighs heavy on the kid.]

Who do you think you're talking to? [It's sort of an automatic response.] Scratch that. Alternate worlds. Right. Yeah, I know a “lot” about technology. So you can knock that depressed look off your face. I feel like I threw your ice cream on the sidewalk.

[Okay? Got it? Good. He doesn't really leave time for an answer.]

Tell me about it. What's Clone Sickness?

[Sora would be fine to leave it as it was had he been the only clone but there were alot of them and some of them have shown in the same world as him. At least he has a head start this way.

At the boast of confidence, Sora blinks at him several times.] Well, I was just gonna call you the Engineer but if you want me to know your name, you can say it. [Did he just sass the teacher? Yes he did. A smile.] If I had ice cream, I wouldn't let anyone throw it on the ground.

[Ah, that question.]

It's when the body fails and collaspes. Basically the doctors who created me did shoddy work. They didn't bother trying to actually fix it for new versions and just dumped a bunch of chemicals into a stasis pod to help the body repair. It doesn't always work, sometimes it just dies and not medicine or magic can fix that. The pods could keep the body alive for a short while - up to about a month - and if the body wasn't repaired by then then it usually died. The doctors would just start over.

But the chemicals are only a temporary fix. Sometimes it would be months before the body failed again and back into the pods they'd go.

Clone Sickness is like... dying. The body stops moving but if gets into the stasis pod soon enough then it goes into a coma-like state. Pods are the life-support system that keep the bodies frozen while it repairs what it can.

[Sora is very careful not to imply that there were any other clones - just him.]

After the doctors were gone there was a year trying to figure out how to fix the problem but a bunch of other complications popped up in that time. Unfortunately they left notes about discovering the problem but never wrote down why.

[Faith hadn't taken her work as a sandpath technician all that seriously in the past two months. Thus far when she could be bothered to actually do the work, she followed someone else's lead or just flung sand slapdash where she thought it looked like it needed it? Good enough for government work? Or something.

Anyway, since getting Kilgrave'd and subsequently freed, she's looking for literally anything to distract her from thinking any thoughts at all. So she's thrown herself into her work. Making new paths, hauling as many sand bags as she can carry (which are quite a few with her Slayer strength) and taking them wherever they needed taken. She's coming back for another haul when she slows to see the goatee'd man signing at her. She wrinkles her nose at him. Buy them? She looks around then back to him. She's getting better at signing, but pulls out her device instead.]

Depends. What're you offering? I'll trade you for some smokes and some Ramen, the good kind, none of that chicken shit.

Salvation came in the soft, silent padding of feet that caught up as the door was held precariously in his hands. Pale skin showed on the forearms as slender hands extended and took hold of the door. Rei's pale hair came into view and she helped to shoulder the door upwards.

For someone as small as her, she was very fit and in shape. A military existence and not being precisely human if one was technical certainly didn't hurt. She wasn't as strong as an adult just as fit, but she was still more than enough to help get this up and out of the way. Not looking at the blood dripping from his hand, she nodded silently towards the dangling rod. Put it back?

Oh ... that looked corroded. That might be a problem.

(Eddie isn't really one to go out of his way to talk to adults. More than that, he had always been wary of the teachers at his school. Tony is different than them though. He doesn't have that same rigid disciplinary persona that a lot of teachers in the fifties seemed to embody. All the same, Eddie felt a little awkward staying in his seat as the class filed out.

It's a couple of minutes afterwards that Eddie finally stands up and slowly makes his way to the front of the classroom. He's got his notebook squeezed against his chest and looks a bit uncertain.)

I think I want to make something for my house. I want to- um. Make a doorbell, but instead of noise, it flashes some lights in the house? Like if I set lights up specifically for the doorbell. Would that work, do you think?

[ Frankly, it was sometimes pretty difficult to tell if Majima was paying attention in class; he wasn't particularly prone to speaking up in discussions and he had a general case of RBF that wouldn't clear up until he got back home for a canon update.

However, he did apparently take Tony's request to heart, and the item he'd built as his first project appeared to be an electric lighter made with a 9V battery, some nichrome wire, and the willingness to embrace his new life as a fire hazard. ]

Ain't real useful as a light, though.

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Sunday Skool! (forward dated to 2/24)

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not too cool for school

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Hatching a Plan (post Feb 25th)

Baker Street

After class some sunday

One of those sunday schools