3819/Icebergs

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Icebergs
Date of Scene: 06 February 2018
Location: Avengers Medical Lab
Synopsis: Dane visits Tony in the medical lab; they discuss things mostly related to Tony actually getting some rest.
Cast of Characters: Iron Man, Black Knight




Iron Man has posed:
It has been a very long day for a very bored, very drugged, and very ill, Tony Stark. He's one of the worst sorts of patients, as he tends to do whatever he wants, whenever he is awake enough to do it. Such as the earlier plot of sending the various robots out to bring him things, only to get stuck when some clever person decided to change the door locks to not admit the robots anymore. After getting around that problem, he has since started to fiddle with 'upgrading security' around the mansion, which, considering how loud the alarms are, is not the most fun for anyone ELSE.

A sedation later, he's awake again, and without something constructive to do, is planning his next entertainment. Which, well, may involve trying to get up. Currently he is deciding which of the leads and tubes attached to him is ACTUALLY necessary.

Tony is physically on an extremely high-tech medical bed that his X-Man doctor outfitted, and Tony 'adjusted' with his own improvements. He is covered in monitoring equipment and is hooked up to a plethora of things scrubbing poisoned blood, fighting an infection, and keeping him breathing regularly. The arc reactor in his chest has it's own set of leads, like techno spiderwebs to the side panel of the machine. It's an epic maze of 'weakness' Tony doesn't like being stuck in, although he's still too heavily sedated to actually do much .... yet.

Black Knight has posed:
    "Well, is it the armour making you sick?" It's a warm baritone voice. Not melodic, but measured, certain, and easy. The figure that walks in would be a really great looking guy if he would shave. One can light a match on Dane Whitman's stubble. He seems really good at growing it, to the point where it seems like he has just given up shaving, and just trims it to this length or something. Perpetual five o'clock shadow. It's like something out of Miami Vice.

    His large hand rubs at that stubble as Dane enters. "I mean, and this is an Engineer saying it, but harlot red and gold would make anyone sick after awhile." Is it gallows humor, or just his usual deadpan? It might be hard to tell. He has a bag with him, and is wearing a face mask. As he enters, he commandeers a chair, places the bag there, and grunts. He reaches for the leads, carefully, and traces the leads from the reactor back to the its plug in, where he starts to read its data. "Never bothered making one of these for myself. Seemed too cliché to manufacture something you made.I'd just blow out my castle's electrical panel anyways." He helps himself to the data, but he is not writing it down. He's checking the engineering side of things. "So. I've been working on pain-numbing technology based on my neural blade. You interested?" He looks over at the man and drops the act for a moment.

    Dane tells the urge in the back of his head to use that 'magic sword' of his to 'screw off' a few dozen times a day. He's physically and mentally tough, an emotional cripple, sure, but a tough one. "What can I do to put your mind at ease so you can recover? I'm not Banner, and I'm not you, but in a world without you and Reed, I'm a pretty hot shit scientist. You can trust me to handle things until you are better."

Iron Man has posed:
Tony himself needs to shave to keep his pristine goatee in better order. He looks more like a train hit him, though, so he has a pretty decent excuse. He takes in Dane's arrival with a sort of disoriented interest, like one would react to a magical dinosaur wandering into the room to offer candy.

Because, well, Tony IS pretty high.

"You are truly not what I expected in my deliverer from pain," Tony comments, squinting. "Although I did imagine blonde," he adds, with a huff that is echoed by the medical equipment.

And promptly attempts to sort of sit up. He obviously goes absolutely nowhere, though.

"I'm nearly recovered. I scheduled in a whole /day/ and everything into my calendar, nothing's going to blow up. Besides, I usually cause that." Tony assures Dane, eyes closing for a somewhat too-long moment before he opens them with a blink of reddened lids.

"Oh....! You're actually /here./ Huh, how about that," Tony says, in a thoughtful surprise. "Have I already said something sarcastic and witty? Help a guy out, the four of you." Tony grins a little bit, but winks. He's not /actually/ seeing four Danes. Probably fewer.

"I have some leads on some meta attacks -- on humans. And some SHIELD /really/ far up my ass. ...Interested?" Tony chuckles.

Black Knight has posed:
    "I'll do what it takes for you to stay down." Dane counters in his calm tone. "Try something out. Delegating. I know someone else invented it, but it works." Dane continues the quiet snark. He moves over to the chair, and he grabs his bag. "I'll look up whatever you want me to. For now though, pencil in a couple more days of laying flat on your back and recovering. If this was about minds, Tony, I would totally say you could bounce back in a day. Unless you are transcending the body, though, well... you good, Mr. Stark, are well and truly boned for the next week." He regards Tony. "Now. When you are better, I will show you my little toy to make people feel no pain without the opiods and all that other crap. If you don't want it, well Sue Richards did. Until then..." He reaches into the bag, and pulls out a bottle of water. "I guess I will just keep you company." He leans back a little. He regards the other man and just softly smiles. "You are not allowed to die, Stark. If I was the smartest person walking into a room, we'd be in trouble. Well, more trouble."

Iron Man has posed:
"Dying isn't on my calendar, not even in pencil. Pepper won't allow it," Tony answers smoothly, with a sort of oddly reflective little smile that he's no doubt unaware that he just let slip.

"I'm still far more useful working from here than I am observing this glorious ceiling," Tony assures Dane, looking upwards with clear rebellion, but, well, fairly tired, so it doesn't have any fire to it. "If everyone didn't keep taking my entertainment away," he sighs, long-suffering. Yes, because security drills were something they'd let him keep fiddling with.

Right on time, one of the robot drones glides in, through the door that Rogue forced open at Tony's behest with a marble statue. It glides over to Tony's left hand, and promptly ejects some sort of mixed alcoholic drink right there on the edge of the bed. And then shudders and drops out a little pink spotted umbrella into it. Looks like a pina colada, probably; the land of drugged rainbows must have thought that was a good idea. And, obviously, something he shouldn't have. Tony hasn't seen it yet.

"What we /need/ ... is to work together better. Everybody here's running in a different direction." Tony's reasonably lucid for that statement. "Some of us into the architecture," he admits. He did sort of take out that statue in the yard by accident.

Black Knight has posed:
    "Well." Dane is quiet. "Steve is being Steve. I've been handling Avalon business. Lady in the Lake, MI 6, all that. Very hush hush." He rolls his eyes. Dane leans forward and too-casually scoops up the drink. He gives a long sigh. "Thor is about my best friend, but he's currently sans hammer. I read Rogue's file. She's more walking wounded than I am, Tony." His frown almost carves a chasm in his face it is so deep.

    "You need to get better. Then we re-organize. Honestly? We need someone full time coordinating and handling the Avengers as an organization. Then we need someone working on us as a team. We also need to get SHIELD out of our asses. Natasha and Clint are the only SHIELD connections we ever need. Honestly? We need a pro-active purpose. We need a mission, a group goal." He moves the drink off the side. That would help us immensely. Maybe we need to find Thor's damn hammer, so our vice chair being is at full strength."

Iron Man has posed:
Tony spots the drink. "And you didn't bring one for the rest of the class?" Tony says in dismay, at the cruelty of drinking in front of him. The robot looks at Dane (well, turns his way) and chirps, as if saying it did a good job, and zooms off.

Yes, Tony was being snarky. But Tony is listening. Probably agreeing with a great deal of it, though prying that out of him might require multiple drinks in addition to the land he's already floating through. Still, he's brilliant, and even at floating level he can take in the situation laid out by Dane.

"I heard Thor was back. I'm glad that's true, hammer or no," Tony observes. "I pulled in Simon to work with Rogue. I think he's in the wind again, though." Frustration. "Like I said, was researching a mission. Bit busy right now with my ceiling."

Black Knight has posed:
    "For now just recover." Dane says. "Thor is perfectly capable of leadership. Should he fail, I am capable at least until your health is sorted. I'll pick up some slack." he pushes a hand through his hair. He starts to stand. "Get some sleep. This is well in hand. I promise." He sounds certain and confident. He pulls in a breath. "We got this, Tony. I will handle the science, and if I cannot, I will grab you and put you on it." He tilts a single brow. "Okay? You can trust me, Tony. I'll tell you if we are messed up." He straightens his shirt, his hands certain and smooth.

Iron Man has posed:
"Keep me in the loop, I can do more than sleep. Nice of you to steer while there's no icebergs, but yeah... ... I know; you do have it, I can take the next watch," Tony admits, and appears to be starting to drift. One of the machines shows why: it has a schedule of medication it's on, and Tony is going to have a mighty fine nap.

Black Knight has posed:
    "I can handle no icebergs. If I see them, though, I'll get you. Goodnight, Stark. We got this. I will brief you daily." He picks up his bag. "Don't doubt it." He gives a sigh at that, and starts towards the door. He's not particularly affectionate. This is about as chummy as he gets. He pauses in the doorway to dim the lights. "Daily." He promises, again.