fossilised | Jotunheimr

Tony has no intention of using his know how to do anything more than track Loki. Sure, he likes him, but liking does not equate to trust. The last few years have really given him some trust issues and while Steve seems almost blasé about the whole situation, Tony isn’t about to let his world get overrun by aliens.

He’s seen those movies. They do nothing for him.

The moment the three leave, literally blinking out of being (haha, poor Steve) Tony is already in surveillance mode. Even with Pepper trying to get him to come back to bed.

It just goes to show how amazing she is by not being offended when he barely looks at her.

In London, however, Steve ducks into fight mode, fists raised and weight on his back foot. “What is this? What did you do?”

"Be at peace, we merely travelled to London."

Loki was quite amused at the sight of the mortal so riled up just because of their mode of transportation and he didn't hide it very well, grinning widely. He knew that Thor was also unused to teleporting without the Bifrost, but he had at least experienced it once or twice on Jotunheim and therefore wouldn't disgrace himself by showing consternation.

"I could have carried us here through other methods, but I do not believe that Midgard possesses anything so large as a gryfhawk."

Back at Tony's lab, he might not realise that even as he observed Loki through his surveillance, someone was watching him in turn, hidden from JARVIS in the air ducts, waiting for him to be fully alone. He needed the woman gone, she was a factor he didn't want to deal with.

Pepper doesn’t usually stick around when Tony’s like this. If he won’t talk to her, she has other things to do. While Steve is calmed down and Thor shares with him triumphant stories of battle on the way to see Strange, Tony is left flicking through cameras on London streets. He’s picked up Steve’s GPS on his phone pretty quickly and London is better than New York with the amount of cameras.

At least JARVIS doesn’t protest this one.

Tony is keeping an eye on a teammate…on a fellow superhero who sometimes works with him. They might have a difference of opinion on many things, but Steve has become a friend and they do collaborate very well together.

Tony isn’t going to let him ride shotgun on this one alone with a sorcerer and a guy who can drink his wait in 150 proof alcohol.

At least they’re walking now. And walking gives Tony time to refresh his coffee while he waits to see where they’re headed.

The man in the vents doesn't know exactly who he is. He knows who he has been for the last sixty or so years, but that's not who he is any more. Something happened, something went wrong with his programming. He was brought out of freeze like normal when he was needed, a task to destroy the newly found Captain America given to him, eliminate the man before he could rally people and become a symbol again.

But something went wrong.

He had stared down the scope of his sniper rifle as the blond man left his apartment building, and then again three times more. He had the perfect shot, he had made much harder shots in worse conditions, but he never took it. The longer he stared at him, the more his head ached, until all of a sudden an explosion of memory hit him from the inside out. Not enough to know who he was, but enough to know that he wasn't the Soldier.

And so he had run.

Of course HYDRA had been trying to track him down since, but they had only succeeded in damaging him, which was one of the reasons he was here. This man was a technological genius, though there were other things about him that itched at the back of his skull, he couldn't quite get what they were. The other reason was that he seemed to be working with, and a friend of, Captain America.

He needed more information to find out what had happened to him and who he was now.

When Tony turned back around from refilling his coffee, he would find a man in the room that hadn't been there before, just casually stood in the middle of his secure lab as though it was easy to wander in from the street. He had slightly messy hair and his clothes - a faded red Iron Man hoodie and some jeans - were slightly grubby. But otherwise he looked like a normal guy.

Startled enough to spill the coffee, slightly, over his hand, Tony stepped back abruptly and transferred the cup from one hand to the next. He shook the sting away and grumbled under his breath for JARVIS to schedule himself for a diagnostic.

Iron Man hoodie? Unwashed hair? Yeah, Tony knew the type but the type didn’t usually get passed all of his many varieties of safety check points. What happened to his redundancies? What about the three separate codes needed to get up the elevators? Or the thumb prints to use the stairs? What about Happy?

Tony didn’t panic. He kept hold of the coffee, though, watching Bucky cautiously. “You need to go downstairs and make an appointment with the guy at the desk. I don’t do autographs.”

Something about this man seemed so familiar, but off in a way like he was an image distorted by one of those fun-house mirrors. He had no idea why, though, he hadn't yet remembered Howard Stark or what he had done to that man and his wife.

It took him a second to speak up, he still was more used to silence than anything else and it was obvious when he did speak. His voice was slightly raspy as if rarely used, a bit too quiet, and the accent was hard to place. It seemed to swing from Brooklyn to Russia and back.

"I don't want an autograph, I need an engineer."

“Uh.. So same rules. You go downstairs, make an appointment. I’m a busy man.” Like, for instance, right now he was missing out and Thor patting Steve on the back and sending the guy flat on his face. He would have really have liked to see that but instead, there’s a crazy homeless guy here that probably wants to cut his face off and wear it.

It happens. Hollywood tells him it happens a lot more than people thing.

Tony gestures with his coffee. It’s still his current only weapon.

“So you want to head that way, down the corridor to the elevator and take it all the way downstairs. There’s a big guy, a little dumb looking, sitting behind the desk. You tell him that you want to make an appointment and we’ll go from there.” The ride down would let Tony call the authorities, get in his armor and meet the elevator in the lobby too. Win-win.

He couldn't make an appointment even if he were so inclined to try, he didn't exist. The man he used to be, whoever the hell that was, had died a long time ago and the Winter Soldier only had very classified files that proved he ever existed. Besides, he couldn't risk making an appointment and showing up at a later time, it could be a trap.

He didn't bother to argue, he knew he didn't have the right words yet.

Instead, he just pulled off that Iron Man hoodie. He wasn't wearing anything underneath, so his torso was plainly displayed. A criss-cross of scars and impressive muscle definition, and that segmented, beautiful, one-of-a-kind prosthetic with the Soviet star on the shoulder.

"The cooling is broken."

At first, Tony is poised to toss the coffee onto the guy hastily opening his hoodie. Bucky, however, is fast and Tony is unnerved enough to just stare. It could have been anything. The guy could be wearing a wired up explosive. He could be getting ready to show off a horrible tattoo of Iron Man or maybe show that he was armed.

But none of that happened. Tony stood for a long while, coffee mug held out in front of him and tipped towards Bucky. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t do anything but swallow and then draw the cup back towards his chest.

“Oh…kay.” He has no idea about the Winter Soldier, no idea who the Ghost is or that there’s even an operative going by the Ghost. HYDRA has been defeated, there’s no thought that they might still exist and might still be operating in SHIELD or various world governments.

So that star on his shoulder? That means nothing.

“So you have a metal arm. Right. All right, are you going to kill me with it?” He rubs a hand over his beard. “I hate almost being killed.”

That was one of the reasons that HYDRA were so keen to recover their lost Soldier, not just because he was a valuable Asset, but also because he could blow the lid on their carefully maintained and hidden organisation. They were so close to achieving what they wanted, just another few years, they couldn't have that jeopardised.

He frowned as Stark asked his question, before running over his own words in his head to see if he had been unclear. Perhaps Stark thought this was just a solid piece of metal strapped to him, not the fully functional arm that it was. So he moved it up and around to the sound of hissing.

"I told you, the cooling is broken. I need an engineer."

“Ten words that no one knows.” He hopes. They’ve captured Zemo, T’Challa confiscated the book that had been on him and had sealed it. Steve isn’t as naïve as so many people expect him to be, however. He knows that there may well be a cleaned up or found footage recording of the phrases from when Bucky had last been triggered. Steve’s not in a place or a position to make sure that they get out. “Ten words that… I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to properly string them together. And you know them, right? If you hear even the first one you can get out of dodge.”

That’s the idea. It shouldn’t be possible for Bucky to regularly be restrained (or ever restrained again if Steve can help it). But he’s realistic. He knows he can’t always babysit Bucky and he knows his friend would never allow it anyway.

“And I can bring you back. I’ve done it already. Twice. Right?”

No. No Stark was pretty sure that the arm was functional and he was having flashes of being strangled to death by s robot hand. And this was after being melted by an alien death ray. Someone needed to make sure he got out in the sun more after this. His imagination was getting away from him.

“I heard you,” Tony said, but the struggled hiss of that appendage made him momentarily forget his need for self preservation and head over to Bucky.

And none too carefully either.

If he was going to be robot throttled, so be it.

“Sit down. Let me take a look.”

Lucky for Tony, he wasn't about to be strangled by a robot hand today. The man who had broken into his secure lab just sat on the corner of one of the desks obediently and remained still as his arm was examined. Nowhere else in the world had technology like this, it was leaps and bounds ahead of every other prosthetic and it always had been. A vibranium alloy casing to make it as sturdy as possible, and then top of the line electronics underneath.

"Can you fix it?"

If he couldn't then he'd just leave, he'd lived with worse than a broken cooling system. But he wanted to be top of his game for the others that would come after him in the future.

Vibranium? Tony’s only ever held one piece as big as this before in Cap’s shield before he returned it to the guy not too long ago and it was just a flat disc. But this? This is complex and beautiful and Tony can actually feel saliva starting to gather in his mouth. His whole body stiffens just a little, probably because something like this deserves a full body hard on.

He lightly touched the joint between skin and metal, flips up an access panel he never would have known was there if it hadn’t been krimped up, and then stands back abruptly, hand over his mouth for a moment.

It’s not just electrodes peeking through. It’s coolant. It’s the ends of nerves. This arm isn’t just robotics, it’s cybernetics. Whoever this guy is, he’s one of a kind. Tony could cry in happiness.

“I can fix it. Yeah,” he says with a nod. “I can absolutely fix it.”

Shit.

“I need to get you downstairs and—“. He turns to glance at the monitors and curses. Shit. “Can you give me like half an hour? I just have to make sure someone doesn’t die.”

Whoever he is now - Soldier, or Bucky, someone inbetween, or someone else entirely - he knew he was unique. Nobody else would graft an arm like this onto someone because it's not ethical; even if the attachment to his nerves gives him an almost perfect range of motion and control, it's also so damaging to the skeletal structure that he's in near constant pain that he'd never be able to control if it weren't for the bastardised serum in his body.

This is where doctors want prosthetics to be in the future, able to properly replace limbs down to the fine motor control, but this isn't an ethical way to do it.

"No."

It's an immediate answer. He won't just hang around here waiting for a trap to spring; this gets down now, or it doesn't get done at all.

"I can't wait around."

Shit. Shit fuck shit. Duck Steve Rogers. And the aliens. This isn’t fair!

Maybe Tony just ought to have counted his blessing though. He has no idea who this guy is and he still hasn’t asked. Or honestly, cared. This makes him screw his mouth up into an annoyed pucker.

“Fine. But come back. I take it you still remember how to break into my Tower?” Technically, he can boost his security, but he won’t. “Just don’t do it when Pepper’s around.” He doesn’t want her mixed up in his fantasies. Especially the ones no one would ever understand.

Letting this cyborg go will be hard but Tony does have loyalty to Steve right now. And maybe this just proves that he’s grown up a little to put friends first over projects.

“I don’t really sleep. You can come back whenever.”

But you have to come back.

He could have pointed out that he had waited until the woman, now he knows her name is Pepper, had gone before he came out this time, but there was no point. He wasn't sure that he would come back, it would be a risk that he would have to evaluate, whether the loss of the coolant and the damage that would give his arm would be worth the risk of a potential trap.

He only looked at Stark out of deep blue eyes for a moment, intense and silent, before he turned and walked out of the room. Any scans or surveillance would not show how he got out of the Tower.

Back with Rogers and Thor, Loki had taken them to the street in London where Strange had appeared out of a random doorway and invited him inside to chat, but he didn't feel the pull of the Infinity Stone nearby.

Just because Strange happens to be the guardian or one particular nexus doesn’t mean he’s always there. After the battle not long ago, trying to keep all of the sorcerers and their knowledge safe is a difficult and time consuming job... which means that he’s not really able to set up shop for long in one place.

However, that also does not mean that what lies behind the door Strange had initially come from is not still there. Or that Loki is not capable of opening it.

He is, but so too is Thor. There are seals all around the place for magic and for brute strength but they’ve never encounter an Asgardian before. And Thor’s knocking? It’s not exactly delicate.

Steve winces as the wood cracks and the glass spiderwebs. “Maybe we ring the bell next time?”

Hopefully Tony can help him pay for this.

Loki had done a lot of reading about Midgardian culture, but he hadn't quite got to everything and so he looked equally as confused as Thor when he glanced around and then back to Steve Rogers.

"I see no bell to be rung."

"No, it's not an outside bell," said Steve, kind of wondering where his life had gone so wrong that he was babysitting Norse gods now. Maybe he'd never been found and this was all some fever dream brought on by hypothermia. "See that little button? Press it and a bell rings inside the house. Look, maybe just don't knock so hard, you're breaking the door and it doesn't seem like anyone is home."

One doesn’t just break into things the Sorcerer Supreme is meant to be guarding and expect not to suddenly find one’s self thrown through a few sling time loops. Both Thor and Loki are sent for a ride while Steve is left blinking at the space the other two had been.

Strange doesn’t look pleased. No. Actually, he looks a little bit like a riled up Tony whose just had his stuff moved around. Just a little taller.

“And to what do I owe the presence of Captain America?” Hes not awestruck like so many people are upon meeting Steve and that’s halfway because he’s a celebrity in his own right. Both then and now.

And because Steve poses utterly no threat to him.

“Have we ceased knocking to announce ourselves and go right from breaking and entering?”

Steve frowned over at the newcomer and folded his arms, unimpressed by the tone being taken with him or the way that he had made both of his companions disappear. This must be the sorcerer, and that set him slightly on edge.

"Excuse me, sir, but I was attempting to explain knocking and dissuade breaking and entering."

Don't accuse him of criminal activity!

"Perhaps if you could direct me to where my, uh, associates have gone then we can all sit down and talk about why we've come to visit."

Stephen shakes his head. “How about we leave the other two where they are and you and I sit down. It will be less tedious having to explain human conventions to them at every turn.” He makes a grand gesture towards a room that hadn’t been there before with comfortable leather seats and huge, packed bookcases surrounded every wall. He doesn’t seam to mind that they’ve gone from hallway to a library, though, and sits in one chair so that Steve will be able to have a view of the beautiful, large rose window behind him.

He does like to show off his things when possible. It’s not often that strangers visit, really, despite the constant dropping in of Loki and Thor on an annoyingly consistent basis.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” If so, Steve will find a drink in his hand once he sits and is comfortable. These are all just little tricks, one he quite enjoys showing off. They impressed him too when he first arrived.

Steve wasn't massively impressed with the changing scenery; not because he knew how it worked, but because it wasn't any more impressive than the first time he had walked into Tony's private quarters and the air had spoken to him. The whole world seemed like something out of a sci-fi novel now, and it was hard to tell the difference between advanced technology and magic.

"No, thank you. And I don't appreciate the idea that I'd want to discuss anything behind the backs of the other two. I'm just here to help them out, any business should go through them."

Also he thought it was rude to take them away and then act as if he had just brushed aside a minor inconvenience.

"So-- I'm happy to wait until they arrive again, sir."

Why is it that everyone is just so annoying? Stephen makes a big show of rolling his eyes which, along with the facial hair, makes him seem almost like Tony. “If you’re looking for a title, Doctor will do, Captain,” he says and snaps his fingers, dumping both Thor and Loki from the ceiling.

Thor doesn’t look annoyed, though he does jump immediately to his feet to stand over Loki.

“Do not do that again. I will not be teleported without warning.” It’s said like a man that’s been far too often teleported around without his consent, though Strange doesn’t seem bothered by that fact. Given Loki’s skill, he does not doubt it.

“I won’t as long as you don’t break anything else of mine,” he states blandly. “Now what do I owe the pleasure?”

Loki looked far less flustered, more irritated than anything, and he landed more gracefully on his feet than Thor on his face. It was touching, though, that the man he hoped would become his intended had instincts to protect him.

"Your doors are made of flimsy material, and no intent was made to break them. If they cannot stand up to even a friendly knock of introduction, the fault is not ours."

Loki took a seat by Steve Rogers and summoned his own glass of wine, since that seemed to be what was happening here.

"We have come to discuss the artefact you possess, the one around your neck now."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject