10727/Surviving Infinity: This is not Glamping

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Surviving Infinity: This is not Glamping
Date of Scene: 13 January 2020
Location: Khundian Empire
Synopsis: A stranded Tony and Steve deal with water and shelter.
Cast of Characters: Iron Man, Captain America
Tinyplot: Surviving Infinity


Iron Man has posed:
Night has fallen in the very dense forest that Rogers and Stark have found themselves in. It hasn't gotten cold; the forest has a weird, unnatural heat to it, creating low, thick banks of fog that huddle in the low valley they're in. The extreme darkness of the night forced a halt to their travels, and an outcropping of rock has created a humid area.

The heavy darkness may have been an issue, had they not brought a significant light source along in the form of Tony Stark, whose ambiance is certainly often blinding. Or, at least, arc reactor and glove are.

The glove now is set up nearby, while Tony uses the mid kit components and some parts to test the water-like substance that has collected in leaves and on bushes nearby, to see if it's safe.

"If this is alcohol, I submit we might need to stay here a while longer," Tony is saying as he fiddles with the sensor settings in the glove.

"Okay, looks like... water, but we'll want to boil it. You don't want to know what weird biological things I'm picking up in it."

Captain America has posed:
"Sounds like a plan to me. The Howlies used to joke about me having a garbage gut, but that was on Earth, not...wherever this place is. Erskine didn't plan on dealing with any water-bourne amoebas from other planets with the serum."

Steve's voice sounds slightly muffled but clears by the time he emerges again from the thin distance visible with the nearest fog bank. "There's a small cave there, seems like it dead-ends pretty shallowly. Nobody's been in there recently as far as I can tell." Their slogging through the forest, with its humidity if comfortable temperature, has left his dress shoes ruined. There's no saving them. Steve also holds his suit-jacket and vest by the crook of a fingertip over one shoulder.

Looking up towards the trees, he squints. "...can't see the stars well through the canopy. It's...like a rainforest, but it's not. Warm, but...plants're all different. I know, I know," and he makes a pressing motion, lips pulled to one side. "Not Earth." A sigh. "Need to figure out food after you've got this water thing figured out. I can fling a stone hard enough to bring down anything that flies, I think. Might've heard moving water a ways back, but light's not good now. You good with something like a salad? Roots if I can find anything that looks like 'em?"

Iron Man has posed:
"You say that like a salad is an alien concept. I eat salad," Tony retorts, pausing in his project to sit up and give Steve a scoffing laugh and stare. There's a roll of his eyes, too. If Steve was concerned about lingering head injury effects, Tony has systematically shut those down by acting very, very much like himself, very consistently, throughout the walk.

"Not /just/ salad," Tony adds with a rueful tip of eyebrow, dropping his eyes to his project again, and pulling the glasses back down onto his face. He hasn't been able to connect to anything except his own glove, but there's considerable sensors still available. "What exactly would you suggest we boil water in?" Tony asks.

There's a smirk in that question: Tony is leading to an obvious answer.

Captain America has posed:
Maybe there's enough dimness of light to hide Steve's return smirk -- maybe not -- and he shifts in place. He still continues to eye his comrade with a measuring patience. Rest assured he's aware that the genius-inventor might not be out of the woods just yet with his head injury...even if they're currently lost in the woods at the moment.

Some distant sound makes Steve turn and stare, his stance gone still and alert; it pans out to be something simply unknown and not immediately threatening, and so he looks back to Tony. "Y'know, it's...god, it's on the tip of my tongue." He even makes to snap his fingers a few times, as if it might jog his memory. "I mean, gosh, what could I have that's concave and conducts heat if it's strong enough?"

He then relents and thumbs towards the small cave. "C'mon, we'll set up the shield in there. It's cover if it rains 'nd it'll block more of the light. Don't want to draw attention if we don't have to."

Iron Man has posed:
"If we have to, I'm here for you," Tony quips back. "Here." Tony flips the medkit shut and hands it over to Steve as he passes by him, bending to pick up the glove as well, and then use his free hand to get his little test apparatus.

A big yawn surfaces, as if they were just picking up some project back at the mansion and not gathering their few items used for survival on the surface of some crazy alien planet. Tony heads towards the cave, taking care to not tumble down part of a hill, but he does slide in the mud at the bottom a little.

"Cave sweet cave."

Captain America has posed:
"Not a terrible cave, but yeah: not gonna sleep in the mud. Once you get the water going, I'll go find some wood, maybe see if we can't put together some raised planks to sleep on." Steve too steps into the mud, though with more caution if only because he knew it was there through his initial scouting foray. He finds a convenient spur of rock jutted from the cave's wall and hangs his suit-jacket and vest on it. The med kit is handed off towards Tony, followed by the shield.

"Think I saw some possible candidates for wood in the gulley, so I won't be far. Light's good enough with my vision that I'll see anybody trying to sneak up on me," the Captain hazards, tone confident and smile calm. He then begins to make his way back towards the cave's entrance with carefully-picked steps given the moisture covering the cave floor.

Iron Man has posed:
"Just set those there; find a few rocks while you're out to balance the--- nevermind, I've got some here," Tony says. Even in survival situations Tony's being particular about not being handed //survival supplies//.

Maybe it's just a way of pretending that everything is fine. In fact, that is exactly what it is: and Tony knows what he's doing. He's smirking up until Steve's footsteps start to recede, then he pauses for a long minute. A very long minute, seated on the cave floor, to take some time to press his fingers into his eyelids, and release a few deep and ragged breaths. It's a very bad situation, and too similar to some other caves.

Tony drops his hand and sets up a spot for a fire. His expression, though, has dropped to one of focus and firm resolve to not let the stress overpower him.

Captain America has posed:
Emerging out into the mist-laden night air, Steve allows himself a quiet, centering sigh. He does glance back at the cave, but only for a moment. There's something in the back of his mind telling him to move quickly, but he can't tell whether or not it's basic instinct against danger or for another reason entirely. His steps are nearly totally silent as they travel away down the gulley.

He's not gone for long, a handful of minutes at most, and his return is heralded by the crackle of what has to be him dragging a huge travois-like armful of surprisingly dry wood. He slides a little in a small tumble of rocks, but manages to not bull down into the bottom of the cave.

"Here, found enough that we'll both be comfortable." The man pauses to see what Tony's come up with and smiles. "Hey, it looks great, Tony, well done." His gentle compliment is heartfelt. "No need for me to leave again at this point." This he adds with a more knowing and searching look of the genius-inventor's face. There's the smallest guilty divot between his brows.

Yes -- now Steve realizes what was nagging at the back of his brain. While this is shelter, it's not the best situation for someone with past traumas like what Tony endured. Quietly embarrassed, he gets to working at building the sleeping platforms by lining up wooden spars on rocks. There was a collection of what appears to be hemp-like strands of vine to tie them all together; nobody wants a collapsing bed, after all.

Iron Man has posed:
Tony hasn't moved since Steve left, not in a major way: he'd just sat down just before Steve had left, and he's still there, exactly where he had been arranging the rocks. He gives Steve a roll of his eyes, and a snark of, "Setting up for a long stay? I personally do not prefer caves for my vacation destinations. Maybe we can enlist you for a treehouse before this is over, with those wood-gathering skills. You were a boy scout, I'm guessing?"

Tony's not okay, those comments were forced, but it's a delicate thing, probably: and letting Tony ramble may be as good as any in terms of dealing with the bad situation.

"Come on, set up your campfire. Prove that I shouldn't vote you off the island." Tony pauses. "That's a 'Survivor' joke. Reality TV." Tony's tone is a little ragged, distant, but he pushes to his feet with a grunt, and begins to transfer water into a container he's made out of part of the armor shell that was on the back of the guantlet's forearm from the weird broad leaves where the fog and dew has settled.

Captain America has posed:
"I get the reference," replies Steve mildly, not looking towards his comrade. He continues working at lashing the vine's together into firm knots after figuring out how much strength was too much strength for the fibrous lengths. "Janet watched it for a bit, never could get into it. Too contrived." An audible sigh leaves him; for a second, his lips scrunch. A knot snaps and he lets out a small grunt of frustration.

"Never was a boy scout either, even if the press wants it to be so," the man continues as he shifts down to the other end of one of the platforms. Knots continue to form between the lengths of wood. "Learned it all from the Howlies while we were dealing with HYDRA. Least there's no sardine oil to be poured in my shoes this time," he mutters, though it's not without a small smirk. "But no, not a long stay. No reason we shouldn't be up off the ground anyways. Don't think you want anything crawling into your clothing at night."

Once the first bedding plank is put together, he squints at the cave's floor. There's a spot where it seems drier than the rest, though not by much, and this he clears of debris. Some spare branches are piled and he then borrows the shield briefly. After picking up and discarding a few rocks, he holds one up to the light given off by Tony's contraptions. "Hmm." It takes a truly sharp glancing blow off the shield and it admittedly breaks the rock, but there's a spark to land in the small nesting of what appears to be part of his undershirt beneath the dress-shirt. Very cautiously, Steve leans in and blows on the wee smoldering flames. "...might catch, not sure," he admits, frowning. "Not the sappiest branches I could find."

Iron Man has posed:
"I'm oddly disappointed. My opinions of you, tainted," Tony says in obvious dismay, after hearing about the boy scout revelation. "Honestly I've never seen 'Survivor' either," Tony admits. He continues to gather the water, and then comes over to watch Steve attempt to use a rock like a flint.

"....Really?" Tony asks, dryly, and waggles his fingers back from the tiny, sad little patch of mildly smouldering fluff, indicating for Steve to move.

Tony picks up the Iron Man glove, does a small modification, pulling two wires out, and flicks them together, making a gnarly shower of big sparks. "I could power a small city, if we had one here," Tony reminds Steve with a smirk. "I'm significantly improved from my last cave escapade."

Captain America has posed:
Steve sits back on his heels with his forearms rested on his knees, balanced on the pads of his feet. He eyebrows at the genius-inventor before gesturing at the smoking glow of the shirt fibers caught alight with weak strength.

"Had to do it like this long before your inventions, Tony," he reminds him. "Not bad though. If you get it sparking here," and he dares to poke at the wee ember-filled bundling of fabric just to the left of its center, "I can see there's a drier patch. Wood'll catch in a snap."

And lo and behold: Tony's controlled pyrotechnics do precisely as planned. In not long at all, the cave is filled with a cheery warm glow and the soft crackle of burning wood. For Steve, at least, it's a comfort. His expression is difficult to interpret, but it's plain to see he appreciates the warmth from the fire on his outstretched palms.

More finagling of technology and some boiling earns both gentlemen their first few precious mouthfuls of water. "This's better'n any drink I've had in some time," the Captain admits after his few mouthfuls. "Little bit of home away from home. Here, I'll finish my bunk. That's yours." He tilts his head towards the finished platform of wood lifted about a foot off the ground. "At least try 'nd sleep a bit. I'll keep watch."