tushanshu | Video;

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[ The video begins with a dark-haired man centered in the middle of the frame. He’s got dark eyes, a precisely cut goatee, and hair that’s a little too styled to be naturally that neat. There isn’t a lot to see beyond his chin, he’s sitting too close to the camera, but what can be seen looks vaguely like a shirt of shiny red metal.

His brow knits almost immediately after the feed starts recording, his expression edging toward disbelief as his lips twist into a mild frown. ]

Look. I get it. In a time of crisis, rationing’s necessary to keep resources moving in the right direction. Perfectly understandable. You guys needed to save your turtle. What responsible citizen wouldn’t do their part for that noble cause?

[ There’s a slight hint f sarcasm creeping into his voice, as though he’s heard the whole turtle spiel already and not only hasn’t been impressed, but also doesn’t really buy it either. Not even after having spent half a day scouring the network for information about what’s really going on here before making this video. ]

But really? Twenty bucks?

[ The low, indistinct murmur of another voice can be heard, though what it’s saying and who it belongs to is anyone’s guess. Whatever it says, it’s enough to make the man roll his eyes. ]

Juulan. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. The point — [ Whether he’s talking to the camera or the unidentified voice is unclear. ] — is that it isn’t enough for a day, let alone the entire bogus adventure.

[ It isn’t so much the way he looks at the camera – his eyes have never left it – but the change of his tone, less querulous and more curious, that indicates that he’s talking to whoever’s on the other end of the console. ]

So really. Turtle propaganda aside. What’s a guy gotta do to get some decent money around here? Sell his organs? Hit the street corners? Scrub barnacles off the bottom of the turtle? What?

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[ The slow, sinking sense of loss he's pretending that he doesn't feel at potentially losing one of the rare people he can call friend disappears so abruptly when Bruce makes the blueberry comment that he can't conceal the grin that curves his mouth. It's bright and wide and maybe Bruce doesn't remember him, but it sounds like he still knows.

Then he mentions work, which is synonymous to hanging out in Tony's vernacular anyway, and tamping down on the smile is practically impossible. ]

That's an affirmative. When? Now? Because I can come—Where are you? If you give your coordinates to JARVIS, he'll find you for me and— [ Between one word and the next, he's switching between talking to Bruce and talking to the voice grumbling sarcastically through the earpiece still situated in his right ear. ] —It doesn't matter, I'm sure you can—Look, just—Can I fire you? You're fired. No, I'm doing it anyway.

[ A sigh breaks up the ramble, lets him cede back into focusing on Bruce. Which he does with a cheery disregard to how weird he thinks he must look talking to himself. ]

So. Directions?

[Well, apparently that was a success. Bruce hadn't even realized he'd need to be reassured over something, but apparently he had given the difference between that grin and what he'd looked like earlier. Faking it is a lot more obvious when you have the real thing to compare it to.

Him talking to JARVIS doesn't get more than a moment's long-suffering look, and him sparing a thought to wonder what he's getting himself into again. Maybe he hadn't been appreciating the peace and quiet while he had it. The other Tony wasn't nearly this invasive, given what Bruce assumed was some tumultuous water under the bridge between him and his own Bruce. There was no other way to interpret the (justified) wariness he had over provoking him, something he could never seem to manage to convince his Tony the wisdom of. But when he's being totally honest with himself, he's not sure he really wants to, anyway.]

I'm in my lab. [He leans back and folds his arms, tolerant.] Fire sector. Your name's on the door.

Just go in and down to the left.

HA! You did move in!

[ Snapping his fingers, Tony gets up from where he's sitting in front of the console and starts walking to the door. ]

See! I knew it. Couldn't resist, could you? I mean, sure, okay, it's Turtleworld, but obviously I have the best toys in any world and you—

[ He pauses, glancing back as the awful realization hits him that he's trapped in a technologically defunct world and the video stream isn't automatically transferring itself to his suit. ]

Uh... Do you have a cell phone? JARVIS is apparently experiencing technological difficulties with the video feed.

[There's no way he's giving him the satisfaction of knowing he had, in fact, lived in his lab for a few weeks while his apartment was destroyed. Then had had to be taken in by Tony and Pepper once they'd figured it out. No. That's embarrassing in hindsight.]

I have my own place, [he corrects.] But you did... give me a job when I showed up. [An awkward wisp of a smile and a half-shrug.] Though I think technically I'd be the one hiring you now.

[He's mostly saying that to redirect this from the question of whether or not Bruce would want to stick around after whatever superheroing is done in the future.]

You can't take it with you. The consoles are stationary and the network isn't wireless. Though uh, maybe we should, work on that. [It's definitely a good project idea.]

So you run the company now? That’s what I’m hearing?

[ How does he feel about this? He takes a moment to think it over, then decides that while he’s surprised that Bruce would be interested in such an endeavor, he’s not really upset about it. Sure, he signed it over to Pepper once upon a time, but Bruce is a smart guy. If he wants the responsibility, and Tony knows that he isn’t a fan of weaponizing anything, he can have it. ]

You don’t need to hire me back. I got out of the desk jockey racket years ago. But the project idea?

[ He snaps his fingers and points at the console screen. ]

Good idea. Great idea. This is so nineteen-nineties it’s depressing. Give me ten minutes, okay? If I can’t find you by then, send out the search party.

What? No. [There is not a strong enough no.] Pepper runs it. You left me twenty percent, but uh, if you want it back, that's. I really don't do anything with it.

It was a joke. For some reason I keep... hiring people and-- it was a joke. [Please, really, take it back. Bruce wonders if maybe he should hold onto it as an homage to the old Tony, but his desire to escape responsibility is stronger. And it really should rightfully be his, regardless, in whatever incarnation. If it's okay with Pepper then Bruce doesn't see any reason not to hand it right back over.

He unfolds his arms to rub at his face briefly, exasperated.] You'll be fine. Keeliai isn't that big.

You realize that only people with a high level of authority are authorized to hire people, right? So that kind of points to you running the company.

[ He shrugs, careless and totally unconcerned. ]

Keep it. It’s yours. You earned it.

[ Returning to the console to manually turn it off and get on his way, Tony pauses, absently drumming his fingers against his thigh. In the suit, it makes an audible clicking sound. He’s going to pussyfoot around about this with Pepper, but after the fiasco with the invisible guy, he think he needs to be upfront about it with Bruce. There’s no sense in spending the time trying to find him if he’s just going to disappoint him too. ]

You know I’m not him, right? The guy you got to know here. He’s not me. I don’t remember any of it.

[Bruce sorely wants to argue whether he should have the authority to hire anyone, but he's learned by now that the harder he argues something, the more determined Tony is to win the argument. He lets it go, but the topic is far from closed in his mind. He reluctantly accepts the marginal responsibility that comes with it for now, but he'd give it up in a heartbeat if he thought he could.

Tony's abrupt topic change takes him by surprise for a moment, and there's a beat before he says simply,] Yeah. I know. Don't worry about it.

[Another beat before--] You are coming, right? [So what if it's been mostly him holding him on the line. It's the easiest way to play off any seriousness that may have been trying to overtake the conversation.]

[ His answer should be no. Maybe this looks like the Bruce he knows. Maybe he knows details about the whole Avenger thing that Tony’s experienced. But it doesn’t mean that they’re from the same world. If there are endless possibilities, an infinite number of iterations of an individual and the life they could lead, then it stands to reason that some of those variations would be extraordinarily similar.

Bruce and Pepper had missed him, he’d been told and he knows that they’re going to keep missing him. The man that they lost. Their Tony Stark. Because he’s obviously not the same one and to pretend otherwise is just going to hurt them in the long run.

He takes the light, careless sounding approach. It’s easier that way. ]

You’re there, aren’t you? The company?

[ Bruce said that his name’s on the door, but it’s not his company. It’s, well, it sounds like it belongs to Pepper and Bruce now. Not even some alternate dimension counterpart. ]

It’s probably better I don’t. Might get confusing. I ran it once, my Stark Industries, and those people were confused practically every day. And that was before anything weird happened. I can only imagine how it must be now.

[It takes a second for Bruce to register what he's hearing, especially with the way Tony's continuing to talk after he says it, blathers on and covers it up with some thing that really has nothing to do with anything. First he'd seemed like he couldn't get over here fast enough to see him, had made Bruce mildly concerned about how invasive he's going to be on a regular basis, and now he thinks it's a better idea if he doesn't at all?

Because... why? It would be confusing? Impatiently, Bruce rubs at his temple with one hand, as if he's getting a headache.] What are you-- I have no idea what you're talking about. I know you don't remember being here before. You're still... you. [He's struggling here. Comforting is not his natural state and he has to guess at what's even bothering him.]

Would you just get over here? I have a lot to run you through.

[ And me evidently isn’t good enough. It claws at the back of his throat, wanting to be spoken, but Tony has enough wherewithal to keep his mouth closed. This is his problem. He’ll deal with it. Just like everybody waiting for the man they’ve lost will have to keep waiting while he swans around in the other guy’s place, making it awkward for everyone.

The more things change… ]

Fine.

[ It’s not fine. He doesn’t want to go. Doesn’t want to see the disappointment in Bruce’s eyes and hear it in his voice. But maybe he simply doesn’t believe that he’s not who he thinks he is and once he sees Tony in the flesh, he’ll change his mind. It’s a kind of closure. Maybe it’s what Bruce needs. ]

I’ll be there in a few minutes.

[ Reaching out, he turns off the feed and heads out. It won’t take him long to find him and once he sees whatever Bruce wants to show him, he’ll be on his way. And Bruce and the others can get back to looking for their Tony Stark. ]

Edited 2013-07-30 22:00 (UTC)

[Bruce can tell something weird is going on by how he suddenly shuts up, the gregariousness from earlier dissolving abruptly, but he has no idea what it is. It's not really that he isn't the Tony that was here before, is it? That's so immaterial to Bruce. It's still novel to him that he even gets to see him again, half-expecting as he was to have to wait another five years to see a trace of someone that'd actually gained some level of trust from him. Why would he quibble over something like a set of memories?

They really do have a lot to cover. That's mostly what Bruce is thinking about as he waits in his lab, running through things that he thinks he has to remember to tell him. Ordinarily he doesn't do the meet and greet thing. Answering tedious, repetitive questions is not his favorite past time, and there's a lot of ground to cover before he's up to speed. But it's Tony, and he thinks he owes him that in a kind of mirror of how he'd been when Bruce himself had showed up.

So it's not the exact same guy. So what? He's clearly not that different.

When Tony arrives, Bruce is leaning against a lab bench, arms crossed, looking inward and contemplative. He's wearing unexciting, drab kedan clothes, traditional Chinese pants and a sleeveless shirt and sandals, and looks just about the same as ever. There's evidence of neatly organized past and ongoing projects strewn throughout the room, along with a lab bench pushed into a corner and serving as a break table. It's obviously very well lived in, the place he spends most of his time.

Bruce looks up and can't help standing straight, unfolding his arms, breaking into a small smile. He really is happy to see him, and on someone that hardly ever smiles, it's not hard to read on him.] Hey. You're actually here.

[ It really doesn’t take him long to find the place. JARVIS picks up a higher concentration of energy output, plots it on a makeshift map of the city around them, and Tony follows it. A few casually asked questions to passersby, six minutes, and a dash of luck later, he finds himself standing before a building that proclaims itself Turtleworld’s version of Stark Industries.

Tony can’t deny that it’s strange seeing such a prominent aspect of his life in a different world and knowing that he had nothing to do with its creation. Him personally. Somewhere out there – he tries to ignore the way his mind automatically offers up the mental image of a mouse in a dress singing off-key about a long-lost family – there’s another guy named Tony Stark, who looks like him, possesses some incredibly similar aspects of his life, and has recreated his company in an unfamiliar, impossible to believe world. He doesn’t like the way it makes him feel, so he keeps walking, heading inside like he has ever right to be there and isn’t some ghost haunting the bones of a life that was never his.

To utilize the suit’s HUD, he’s had to put the helmet back on, and he’s wearing it when he steps into the lab that he’s told by a bewildered employee belongs to Bruce. He spots him immediately, and the way Bruce smiles at him, like he’s genuinely happy to see him - Not you. No one wants you. - makes his gut clench with something a little too much like guilt for his peace of mind. Thank fuck for the helmet, which lets him school his face into the kind of rakish, devil-may-care negligence he puts on every time he’s in public. ]

In the metal.

[ He taps a finger against his chestplate, like he needs to explain why he substituted metal for flesh in that quip. Then he takes off the helmet, acting for all the world as though he hadn’t just been weird on the video as he looks around. ]

This is your new digs, huh? Very stylish. Gotta be an improvement on Timbuktu or wherever it was. Little too neat and organized, though. Almost seems like you can actually get work done in here.

[And there's another mood swing, one Bruce can guess is deliberate this time. He understands needing to hide, very well, but he thinks maybe this one he shouldn't totally let go.]

You should see yours, [he comments, watching to see how he reacts to equating him to the previous Tony.] What's with the... Aren't you feeling overdressed?

Edited (forgot to pick an icon) 2013-07-31 15:55 (UTC)

I did. Less Malibu, more Third World. I've lived in a cave. It's fine.

[ Bruce is right, he doesn't need the suit in here. Tapping a finger against the chestplate alerts JARVIS that he wants out and it opens, letting him step out. In a t-shirt and jeans, he's not overdressed anymore. He fiddles with his ear for a moment, checking that the connection to the suit is still active, then moves away from it and closer to Bruce. ]

Okay, so I'm here. Let's get the party started. What did you want to show me?

No, I mean, the one here. [At Stark Industries.] I cleaned it up a little.

[He has to admit some interest to watching him take the suit off, though. Bruce doesn't get to see this very often, and he's watching more attentively, following the way the joints move, maybe a second too long. Then he's turning back to speak to him.

He lets out a breath.] There's a lot. I thought you'd want to get up to speed on what's going on here. I think I started looking at the turtle's blood samples within hours when I showed up. Figured you'd be the same way.

[Using work to distract from the utter insanity of what was happening? Absolutely.]

If you're the boss, it's probably yours now. [ Noticing Bruce's interest in the suit, Tony waves a hand at it was he moves away from it. ] Go ahead. Check it out. JARVIS won't bite unless you ask him to. I'd say try it on, but you're taller than me. It might be a little snug.

[ Curiosity compels him to check out the setup Bruce has got going on, but he isn't as invasive about getting into his personal space as he could have been. The comment about turtle blood makes him arch an eyebrow and glance at him. ]

You're not doing some kind of turtle breeding program, are you? [ It's a joke. One he lets go of almost immediately. ] The blood test. Because it's sick? Was sick?

I'm not the boss, [he says in pointed exasperation, but he can't resist an open invitation like that, so he's stepping closer and looking it over. After a moment, he slides his glasses out of his shirt pocket and puts them on, immediately looking about ten times more like a scientist. At first he doesn't touch anything, but Bruce is confident he's not going to mess anything up, so he starts a subtle examination, apparently with no difficulty carrying on a conversation as he does it.

At the moment, there's several computer screens across his own lab bench, and an old, beat up laptop that looks like it's from a decade ago with duct tape holding the join together. There's microscopes and petri dishes, and cobbled together, odd looking advanced tech from the satellite in various configurations. Down on the next table, out of the way, is an array of local flora arranged under grow lamps, with scale piping systems feeding water and automatically filtered nutrients. All in all, there's a lot going on to look at, and Bruce doesn't mind him poking around.

Anything he's working on privately isn't out here.]

Yeah, [he says with a glance back.] Was sick. Getting back to normal slowly. That was a long process. Right now I'm working on ... something more metaphysical. [If he sounds vaguely distasteful, well, that's not hard to figure out.]

[ It's to the beat up looking laptop that Tony immediately goes. He hasn't seen such a sorry looking piece of technology since he'd been given a pathetically worn out computer by the Ten Rings during their misguided attempt to make him produce missiles. There's duct tape on it, for Christ's sake.

He's in the process of picking it up when he realizes that it's still on, it's not his, and it's probably rude to manhandled another man's computer. Setting it back down, he glances back at Bruce, pointing at it as he says; ]

Can I fix this? It's killing me. Physically killing me. I think I'm going to have a stroke. I can't function with this sitting here like this. It needs emergency treatment or it's going to die.

[ There's something else he should be asking. Something that stuck out when Bruce mentioned it. It's hard to concentrate on it with the laptop languishing in decrepitness in front of him, but he rallies enough to try. ]

Metaphysical how? What do you mean? Seriously, though, I need to fix this. Where's your screwdriver?

Edited 2013-07-31 17:28 (UTC)

[That's not at all what he's expecting, but somehow he'd forgotten in the time he hadn't seen him how impossible it is to keep Tony on topic. He's no less exasperated, but he's a bit tolerantly amused as he points out,] It's lasted me several thousand miles and across dimensions without dying. It's not going to stroke out.

Behind you. [The table behind him has a toolbox on it, much less beat up than the laptop because Bruce had gotten it here. It's a fairly elaborate one, not large but packed with drawers and just as organized as the rest of the lab-- not obsessively, but perfunctorily.] Just don't lose my files. [It's almost a mild joke, the likelihood of Tony losing anyone's files is so small.

He goes back to poking at the suit, making mental notes as he goes.] Metaphysical as in accessing other planes of existence.

[ Snorting in insulted disbelief, Tony turns to root around in the toolbox. It takes him a little longer than necessary to extract what he needs, he can’t resist sating his curiosity about what’s in there, before he turns back to the dilapidated laptop with the aforementioned screwdriver, a tiny collection of screws, and a few other tools. ]

I can upgrade your operating system while I’m in here. Streamline it. Free up more processing power.

[ As distracted as he sounds, he is conscientious about saving Bruce’s files before powering down the laptop and getting to work on it. The task’s an easy one. It doesn’t require even half of his attention, and while he works, he glances up periodically to look at Bruce as he speaks. ]

Like the Tesseract? Uh, Odin’s magical cosmic cube. It’s a portal to other dimensions. I have all of Selvig’s notes. He’s the one who figured out how to work the thing. I could have done it, obviously, but Fury knew I wouldn’t be okay with using it to make weapons. And I wasn’t. We don’t get along. Me and Fury. Or the rest of SHIELD. I don’t know if you knew that. Yeah, but anyway, if you want help with that, I— [ have plenty of experience with interdimensional transportation into the depths of space. ] —I can help you out with that.

[He's about to open his mouth to blithely tell him to go crazy on it, and then rethinks the wisdom of that decision, and says,] As long as I don't open it to my own AI, do what you want. [Bruce is a simple soul at heart and really was perfectly happy with what he'd had already, but if Tony wants to upgrade it then far be it from him to refuse. He's hardly immune to the lure of fancy tech.

He isn't, however, totally under its sway, as he proves by glancing up in visible, if reluctant, interest at those words. Bruce steps away from the Iron Man, taking his glasses off again and signifying his temporary cessation in examining it, though he holds them loosely in his hand. As interested as he is, there's more pressing things at hand, and Bruce doesn't let himself be distracted.]

Dr. Foster mentioned Selvig, but I don't know any of that. Well, I can guess you don't get along with SHIELD. [Tony Stark and a secret government organization trying to control his actions? Bruce knows how well that'd gone over with Congress, and that was far from secret.] I was planning on asking you to help, so, [a slight half-shrug, taking another step over to lean against the bench and watch Tony work.]

The Tesseract was with the, uh, alien invasion? If you're mentioning Odin... [Bruce's understanding of the situation is hazy, but he knows it involves alien gods-- Thor and Loki, one good and one very, very likely to piss him off-- and he might be terrible with mythology but he's not so terrible that he can't recognize Odin by name.]

[ Tony can’t help rolling his eyes at that. Like he can really install AI in so short a time. It would take him at least an hour to get something like JARVIS up and running. That will be tomorrow’s project. He’ll surprise Bruce with it. No sense in warning him about it now and getting him all worked up.

It’s strange to hear him say that he guesses Tony doesn’t get along with SHIELD, when he’d been right there beside him, helping him gum up the works of Fury’s weapons of mass destruction machine. He doesn’t have time to focus on it too long, before his skin’s prickling at the mention of the invasion and nervous, uncomfortable energy starts flooding into his system.

Deep breath. In and out. It was like, a hundred years ago. You’re fine. But he’s not fine and he knows it, and all this talk of other hims and clones isn’t helping to keep him stable. In truth, it’s freaking him the fuck out. ]

Yep. That’s the one. Loki’s little alien attractor. [ Even though he’s the one who brought it up, he has to skirt around the subject. ] You—Uh, sorry, if there’s some kind of politically correct way to talk about this, timelines and other dimensions and all, I don’t know it. You don’t get along with SHIELD either. I’m not sure you ever did, since they were peripherally involved in the whole—Anyway, finding out they were trying to make even bigger, more destructive bombs with alien tech? I don’t think that really helped. Fury’s kind of an overbearing dick, I don’t think anyone likes him.

[If he knows it's going to get him worked up, why is he doing it? That's the question Bruce would ask if he weren't oblivious to the machinations going on under his nose.

He notices a strange quirk of a reaction for half a second, but before he can identify it it's gone, and Tony's launching into another explanatory ramble. Bruce raises an eyebrow at him, but listens, storing the information away neatly in his mind.] I've met Loki, [he contributes, tone even.] He was here for a while. We didn't get along either.

[It has the ring of a vast understatement to it.]

I'll have to get the full story sometime, but right now we need to, go over everything. With the timelines and the... doubles. You're still hung up about it, aren't you? [That's Bruce's version of being comforting and saying that he's open to working it out if he wants. But he can tell from that evasion and awkwardness around talking about it that Tony's seemingly innocent question earlier about whether he knows he's not the same guy is at all over.]

That’s because Big Green made a Loki-shaped dent in my concrete floor. [ That, at least, doesn’t provoke images of falling through space. In fact, it just makes him smile with vindictive glee. ] He probably holds a grudge. Seems like that’s a thing with Asgardians.

[ How about they don’t go over the whole story? How about they just let it go and move on? That would be great. It’s probably not going to happen that way, but Tony can pretend otherwise.

Fortunately, Bruce lets that topic go. Unfortunately, he starts picking at the other thing that’s causing Tony quite a bit of emotional upset. The corner of his mouth twitches, but he heads off the wince before it can fully form. [

Hung up has an… awkward connotation. Sounds like a personal problem. [ Repairing an outdated laptop suddenly requires the entirety of Tony’s attention. He looks down at it as he works, escaping the possibility of eye contact. ] You got some of them here? Other guys who call themselves Bruce Banner?

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