acatalepsy_logs | [OPEN] Well. That Didn't Go Quite As Planned

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[OPEN] Well. That Didn't Go Quite As Planned

Who: EVERYONE
Where: The Temple of Beginnings
When: Immediately After The End.
Rating: PG-13, may vary by thread
What: You fall, you pick yourself back up and you move on. Or at least, you try.

Fished Out Of Water
One minute, you are witnessing the fabric of an entire world implode as it is literally ripped apart by powers unknown. The next, that tell-tale twist somewhere beneath your sternum, before you are bodily YANKED away from Akvos, away from the ocean and the Queen and the King and the Princess.

And land back on (mostly) solid, dry ground.

Welcome back to the Temple of Beginnings. Don't worry, there's no hurry for you to get back up just yet.

Hey, Howya Doin'?
Once you do get back up, now is the time to be taking stock of the situation - yours, your friends, and even those new merfolk neighbours (who may need a hand getting their fins back into the water). There is also the missing members of the Circle to consider: people who disappeared on the journey to Akvos, and those who never made it back..

(There's also that small matter with a certain 'witchess-san' that may be a cause for concern to some more than others.)

Whatever the case, it's a lot to process right now. Take the time you have, because you don't know if it'll be enough for what you need.

[[ OOC: Here's an open post for threads reacting to the end of the Akvos world hop. Feel free to use the above prompts, and/or make your own! ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Maybe hiding behind his hair's immature or some shit, and it doesn't really help him feel less exposed - but it lets him pretend it does, and that's worth not seeing whether the guy's looking at him or not. Hank doesn't want to know. He hasn't lost his shit like this in front of someone since - well, since the beginning of that, that water thing, but before that in the real world, not for years. If he never does it again it'll be too fucking soon.]

What?

[His voice is sharp with confusion, cracking over the word, and he lifts his head just enough to squint through his hair at the guy. That face is kind of familiar - maybe it should be, there are probably two people here old enough that he doesn't try to call them kid instinctively, and one of them's his dog - but all Hank's got the mental space for is trying to shove all this shit that's coming out of him back into the nasty little box in his head it came from, so he does that. Or tries to. He swallows, makes a thick noise around his fist and takes irregular, shuddering breaths around his words.]

What the- fuck- are you- Believe what? What we just... saw-

[He squeezes his eyes shut with another thick, choked back noise. He doesn't know what there is to believe about what - whatever the fuck that was, a whole fucking city getting swallowed up and all the people in it- yeah. His brain's got about all it can process right now without being asked to know what this guy's talking about, that feels like asking a lot.]

[ ok, no go on the jokes then. he crowds in a little closer and tries to drop a hand on hank's shoulder. if it's unwelcome he'll move it to his knee but otherwise it's a (hopefully) grounding piece of contact. ]

Do you remember me? You didn't believe in my credentials.

[ distraction, focus. the things he needs when he's freaking out. so he tries to pay it forward. ]

Try to breathe, um. If you can remember how- nice and slow. That's it.

[The touch to his shoulder is anything but unwelcome. Hank turns toward it, toward the guy, with a little gasp and if there's a voice that whispers, no, you're not doing that anymore, it's drowned out by how loud everything else is, swallowed up in the relief of human contact and all the shit inside of him rushes toward it, needing someone to know, to really know-

It's that dream, is the thing. The dream hadn't helped. It's stupid, everyone else here'd been sick, some people'd even lost all their ability to feel any part of their skin like he had, but being pulled into the lake like that, floating in nothing, nothing on every side - it's not his favorite memory, and then he'd been shoved under the fucking ocean and he could feel the water by then, thank god, but sleeping like that, closing his eyes and eventually, after about a million fucking years, starting to fall asleep in it - it hadn't helped.

But it'd been fine, because everyone else is fucking used to this weird shit, and what the hell was he going to do about it? So he'd slept sometimes and he'd dreamt sometimes and if every other deep breath down there'd drowned him that was between him and his own stupid, persistent failure to actually get used to any of this, the thing that made him the worst possible pick to get yanked out of Detroit and shoved up here with a bunch of fictional fucking superheroes out to save whole worlds, whole dimensions, out to save something he's too small to even try to really understand. But drowning every time he took a big breath didn't stop him from herding all those people underground away from the monsters, it didn't stop him and he could at least act like he was as used to all this shit as everyone else, and it was fine.

So that's what's built up under his skin, that's what keeps kicking out through the holes in the corners of the nice little mental box he's been wrapping it up in, and the stupidest thing is that it's choosing now to make this great fucking escape instead of just dissolving away conveniently, choosing now to tell him every breath's drowning him cause it comes up with a sob attached, tell him that there's nothing under his knees, his hands, nothing solid holding him down to something real.

And hanging on the tail end is the little emotion that could, something just barely grabbing on for dear life on the outside of all of that, Hank's disbelief, some sense of sense of unreality at being talked to like that, gently, careful. A laugh tries to come out but it's so broken up around all the other bullshit noises he's going to stop making that it might as well not've come out.]

Are you- try-tryin to- talk me down?

[He pants, fights more bullshit down his throat, and closes his hand around grass and little rocks and dirt tight so his dumbass brain will remember that they're there.]

[ the second tony's hand closes around hank's shoulder, it's like he's back underwater and he gasps for breath, not sure what's causing the sudden upwelling of despair. not like he needs a reason to be a depressed fuck, he does that well enough on his own, but he was so tired a minute ago he really didn't have the capacity for all this self-hatred. clouds start crowding in overhead, just along the beach. the rest of the sky is clear, but they darken and start to knock as the turmoil brews inside him. akvos taught him a lot about how to control his power, but they're still fueled by his emotions. something he obviously will never master completely. the same watery laugh bubbles up his own throat as a light sprinkle comes down around them. ]

Ask me again when I'm not actively making it worse.

[It takes him a minute to follow what the hell the guy means. It even takes him a minute to realize that the sky's not supposed to do that, shit he's far gone. He takes another minute just to stare at it, watching the rain and trying to process it, trying to breathe.]

You- you got your own- your own little- raincloud. Fuck.

[This try at laughing doesn't go any better than Hank's last one, but everything's just coming out whenever it wants right now so that part of it, at least, he doesn't try to stop.]

God, what a- a fucking shitshow.

[Then, once he finally looks away from the sky, he sees the hand on his shoulder. A sharp shock of horror slides through him riding on an oily stain of self disgust and then Hank jerks away, trying to break the connection, falling back on his ass and the fist that was over his mouth spreads itself across his face.]

Fuck. Fuck. That was- me. God damn it. That was- fuck, I'm sorry. Shit.

Woah, woah.

[ tony tries to hold on, but the jerk back knocks his hand loose and he frowns. the rain instantly clears, but he's just more confused now so the clouds stick around, bracketing them overhead, but staying dry. his hands drop to the sand and he sighs. god it's been a long... life, for both of them, he can tell. ]

It's fine, you're fine. Just. Chill, okay?

[ he grimaces before sitting back on his ass, looking up at the sky and trying to clear the rest of the weather. the sky reveals its pretty sunset, pinks and oranges casting an eery light on the beach. he knows from experience hank can't "just chill" and he doesn't really expect it. ]

Even a shitshow's better with an audience, right?

God no.

[Hank stares at the guy like he just- well, everything weird that can happen probably counts as realistic, in a place where people’ve got their own personal weather system following them around - not that he’s looking at the weather right now, not that he can spare the attention to see what it’s doing, but he thinks that’s what it is - so maybe there’s no handy metaphor that really fits. Hank stares at him like he just said some far out shit, is the point, something so obviously wrong that it actually gets all Hank’s attention for half a second.

Breathing’s pretty important, though, and soon that shoves its way back to the number one spot in Hank’s thought processes. His body’s starting, thank fuck, to almost realize that air is what it wants inside him but it’s not there yet, so Hank just focuses on gasping and clearing the last of the imaginary water out of him. This isn’t what he wants to think about, he’s tired of this, he’s tired of this, so he scrubs an unsteady hand across his eyes and tries to focus past the blur to the other guy, who at least sounds steady and sure about his opinion on all this, even if that opinion’s wrong.]

What kinda shitshows have- have you been- runnin lately, audience’s the last- ngh, fuck.

[Local man rapidly losing what dignity he has left by choking on nothing, no problem, nothing to see here.]

I was asking you, I've actually never ran a shitshow before, but I sure have been the star.

[ he gives hank a little shrug before looking up at the sky again, arms winding around his knees as he waits. is rambling helping? he can ramble for days on end even after... whatever they'd just been through. and even if his voice gets a little hoarse from breathing real air again, he doesn't seem to be bothered by it. ]

Is this your dog? He's the size of Yankee Stadium. Can I pet him or is he one of those helper dogs? Maybe they don't make the vest in his size. [ to sumo, ] No offense, dude, I'm sure you're just big-boned.

[The guy's casual air, the talking about nothing like Hank's not- like this is just another day, and the whole not looking at him thing - it helps. It helps. It's almost like he's not actually choking on nothing like a moron, it's almost like he can keep trying to get himself under control without it being a big fucking deal. Before he tries to talk again he's quiet a few seconds, focusing on that, the one maybe-not-terrible part of all this instead of focusing on anything else.]

That's right, you better- walk that back, I'm gonna, gonna slap the shit out of you if- if you fatshame my fuckin dog. Go ahead though, he doesn't uh, he doesn't bite. Not 'less you got cheese.

Fuck. Am I uh, run-running this shitshow? Is that what's happening here?

[He murmurs that to himself, then takes a couple more breaths.]

Fuck, okay, um. Sorry about- [Hank glances at the guy, briefly, gesturing at his own shoulder.] -when you, uh. Didn't mean to, it's just. Magic bull- bullshit, you know?

[ tony laughs, even as he pets sumo. ]

Your dad runs a mean shitshow, did you know that? Yeah, I'm serious, it's like, the best one I've ever been to and I've been to a lot over the years. Maybe not that many I remember, but.

[ he gives hank an uncharacteristically soft look, fingers still hooked in sumo's warm fur as he nods. ]

Magic is bullshit, I'm glad we agree on something.

[Hank frowns at him for a couple seconds, but- right. This guy’s one of those people who calls their dog their kid. Right.

That mystery solved, Hank sits forward and tries to - what the fuck is it you’re supposed to do? Clear your mind or some shit? But his mind keeps going, settling in on that ‘magic is bullshit’ track and running with it.]

What the fuck were we even- what the hell do I know about magic anyway? I don’t even play D&D, what the fuck was I supposed to do about- god. Why were we even there, what the hell did we miss? Motherfuck. Fuck.

[He chokes off his body’s try at coughing, eyes closed, hitting his fist a couple times against his thigh. That’s not what they’re doing here. They’re just talking - and not talking about that either, not if he doesn’t want this stupid shit to get worse. Okay.]

So.

[He clears his throat, and his voice doesn’t crack this time.]

I don’t know if this is a good show like you think, man. The- the acoustics suck, no snacks, no chairs, gotta sit your ass down in the sand. I’d ask for my, uh, for my money back.

[ all tony can do is shrug, taking his hands off sumo to wrap around his knees instead, looking out over the water. he still feels calm, and isn't that weird as hell? he's never the chill one - except, of course, when he has to be. he can save his breakdown for once hank is back in one piece. something like that. ]

Oh, don't worry, I've already started mentally drafting my letter to management.

[ or in this case: hate mail astoria will never open or read. maybe he's so calm because nothing matters, in the end. they can't make change here, can they? ]

That- that'd be the witch, right?

[Hank scowls, looks down to watch himself running his hand up and down his pants just so he has something to focus on.]

God, I miss my- my captain. Never thought I'd say that shit, he's a pain in my fuckin ass but at least he- if he sent me into something like that, if it went- christ, we'd at least have enough info to know what the fuck happened, if it was something we did- I would have gone into it knowing everything he knew. And she knew, didn't she. And she didn't tell us. If- if she did tell us whatever the fuck happened there was a risk and I didn't even-

[Hank shakes his head, clears his throat.]

She didn't, did she? I was- fuck, I wasn't exactly paying attention before we got zapped into Ariel's Little Hellscape, did you know anything going into that? Anything at all?

Edited (typo) 2019-01-31 14:46 (UTC)

Don't be so sure. My captain is here and man, is he a pain in my ass.

[ okay, he can guess hank probably meant in a military sense, but it's not like his comparison is inaccurate either. there's a reason he's always surrounded himself with g.i.s even if he has no discipline to speak of himself. he's sure hank will be able to guess that without him having to specify, really. ]

Nope. Not even a pamphlet like So you have Gills now... What's with that? She doesn't have favorites, buddy, don't worry. She hates us all equally.

[ tony doesn't believe astoria hates them, but it's easier to accept than her loving them. god, she's one sick witch. he leans on sumo to get himself standing then turns around to offer both his arms down to hank. now that he's ready for the onslaught of emotions he can try to keep them from getting struck by lightning. ]

Come on, this is pathetic. Have some goddamned dignity. [ it's unserious and said with fondness hank hasn't really earned. ]

I don’t think she hates us. I think she’s probably- probably just dumb.

[He says it while the other guy stands, watching him, and then snorts. The fond tone turns what might have ticked Hank off into something that warms him instead, a little, warms up his voice too, and a corner of his lips curls up.]

Few years too late for that.

[Hank glances from the guy’s face to the hands held out toward him, his half-smile fading.]

Maybe I didn’t explain earlier, I wasn’t, uh, wasn’t making a lot of sense. But um, touching me, probably not, uh, great for you, today. Or, you know.

[He shrugs, pulling a face. Or, you know, ever. It’s probably smarter to just say it, make sure the guy knows.]

Unfortunately, I think you're right.

[ he laughs, short but empathetic. he gets it because he's the same way, but he lifts his eyebrows, still holding out his hands towards hank. ]

I know, I figured it out. Go on, you can't hurt me.

[The look Hank gives him is half careful smile, half doubtful grimace, and his hands rise, they hesitate - and then Hank grips his hands, pulling himself up. The waters of Hank's mind are still nasty, polluted with horror and with a still, trapped sensation, pulled down with something heavy and tired and that shaky feeling isn't really gone yet - but the tsunami's settled down, the waves of bullshit swirling around inside Hank's head aren't as wild as they were. Still, he watches the guy's face close as he stands up and by the time he lets go something tight and twitching and ashamed is starting to settle in.

Hank clears his throat, letting go and looking away.]

Sorry, uh, I don't know what that even-

[Nope, that sentence is a no-go. It's so obviously not true that Hank abandons it and tries to make it into something else.]

I don't know what the fuck happened back in that- that city, but I know the last thing you need after that is uh, dealing with my stupid shit. You didn't have to do that.

[He looks mostly regretful, a little appreciative, and rubs his hands over his hips just to have something to do with them.]

[ the clouds gather harmlessly above their heads, hank's emotions darkening his doorstep again, but this time he's able to hold it at bay. it's interesting, the way their abilities interact. tony wants to find a way to use that on the next world, but he lets go by patting the man's shoulder with a tight smile once he's on his feet. ]

Never know when you might need a favor returned, right?

[ or at least, that's how his life used to operate. now he has a bit more experience doing something for nothing, but hank doesn't seem like the type who would appreciate being "saved." tony can work with that. ]

Besides, didn't have anything better to do. Literally.

[ he really wants to be writing that hate mail, but what good will it do him? none. this was more productive by a longshot. ]

Yeah.

[Hank says it darkly, the last thing he'd seen back in Akvos running through his head - the people he'd been going toward, been trying to save from - from something, just before- well, before this. Home sweet home. This time the memory settles in his head, sticks around now that all the shit inside him's cleared out enough to make room for it.]

Yeah. I guess we're, uh... I guess she decided we're done with that place, huh? With Akvos. I guess that's just fucking it.

[He presses his fingers into his eyes, breathes, swallows. It's settling in differently, whatever it was that happened, now that he can actually breathe while he tries to process it.]

Jesus. What the fuck.

[He shakes his head, blinking his eyes clear, and moves his hand to rub over his forehead.]

Is there any chance you're not gonna wait on calling up that favor? Cause I uh, I really don't know if it's a good idea to have time to think just yet, you know? I could really use something stupid to do.

Fuck.

Yep. Seems like it.

[ he looks around absently a minute, like he expects to be back in that hell-dream-scape-thing. but nothing happens. ]

It's almost like randomly kidnapping people and throwing them at your problems isn't always fruitful. Or something.

[ oh but hank is now speaking tony's language 200%. he whirls his head back around and nods, like mmmyep, this is his bread and butter, actually. ]

If you're really asking me to put you to work, that's kind of my thing. [ before waiting for an answer, he starts walking up the beach towards the temple. tinkering is the best medicine, hank. you've made him very happy. ]

What?

[Before waiting for an explanation, Hnak starts walking after him. Having something to keep him from going back to his room for a little while’s worth not having a single clue what the hell he just signed himself up for.]

Just what kind of operation do you run back home, then? Putting people to work on uh, what exactly? Come on, Sumo.

[He looks behind him, patting his thigh. Sumo must be feeling generous today because he comes without a hassle, although it’s the most recent source of petting - aka Tony - that he walks up to instead of Hank.]

[ tony starts when sumo's big head nudges into his palm, but then he's smiling softly and scratching the dog behind the ears. ]

There's no accounting for taste, is there, dude? [ he addresses the dog with a slanted smile before turning his attention back to hank, belatedly processing his inquiry. ] At home? I told you, I run— ran a multibillion-dollar tech company. Now my girlfriend runs it and I... focus on world peace.

I know that's a little Ms. America pageant-y but it's working so like, don't knock it.

I'm not gonna lie to you man, 'billionaire working for world peace' sounds about as real to me as 'knight of the realm who hooks up with elves and mounts dragon butts on his wall in his spare time'. But at least you're not a magic teenager so, I guess you get points for variety.

[He looks down at Sumo, thinks about trying to call Sumo over to him instead, and doesn't. Trying to get comfort from his dog's the first thing he did on getting back here, and look how that turned out. Let Sumo hang out with his new friend for a while.]

So what's that mean here? Your whole thing is, what, putting random assholes to work building holo-screens cheap for the masses, or what?

[Yeah he's willing to do it, whatever it is. But being curious gives him something to think about, and that's the whole priority here.]

Trust me, I know.

[ but he laughs at the joke, mostly because it's not even a joke and just like, the truth. they're probably the oldest guys here and isn't that horrifying in and of itself? ]

First of all, Pepper only uses the most humanitarian practices in our plants overseas. She travels there herself to make sure everything is up to standard. And trust me: Pepper Potts has standards. [ oh... ] If you just, wanna ignore how much of a hot mess I am.

[ professional standards okay!!! he sighs, eventually dropping his hand so sumo can drift back over to hank. ]

Here? Here my name, my empire... it doesn't mean anything. You taught me that.

[ but he's still an engineer, an innovator. he can help - if astoria would stop putting them at a blantant disadvantage from the rip. ]

You don't have to be so dramatic about it. When we met, it wasn't- I wasn't that bad, was I?

[Hank makes a face after he says it. The answer to that, because he knows himself, is pretty fucking obvious and he's not sure he wants to hear it. Not after this guy's been so decent. Now Hank feels like he has to counteract it somehow, having been an asshole all that time ago.]

Anyway, uh, I know one example isn't a lot to go on but if we're talkin hot messes I'm pretty sure you're not the one of us who wins that title.

[Hank gives him a slow, faint smile, expression wry, and sticks his hands in his pockets just for something to do with them.]

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let me know if you wanted hank's power to be in use longer before he pulls back

this is perfect ty!

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