propulsion | fade rift. inbox.

[He can do this, Peter tells himself. It's not actual rocket science. (Which, admittedly, he would love, but rockets aren't exactly a thing here in Thedas from what he's seen so far.)

And yet.

His nerves are frayed, and as he makes his way to where he's been told Tony's office is, he wonders if it's actually possible for one's stomach to climb up and out of one's throat. He should be overjoyed, knowing Tony is here and that he's alive. But he can't help but feel overwhelmed and as though he's going to screw this up somehow, even though all he's doing he's signing up for the Research division.

He reaches the door to Tony's office sooner than he wants. He takes a few moments to compose himself, though he's still pale. He sucks down a deep breath, deciding he might as well just jump right in.

He knocks.]

Mr. Stark?

Door's open.

[ Unlocked, anyway, swinging open once Peter lets himself in. As far as offices go, it's a larger and more comfortable one than the standard workspaces some floors below; some sense of lived-inness. There's a mini library to the right of the door, and straight across, a broad worktable with a collection of items.

A big desk, up nearer to the windows. Work, books, scrolls. Also: Tony Stark, who is doing math with quill and ink and parchment, who is dressed a lot like he's from here in linen shirt and light jerkin, but with every other familiar flourish as fair as styling is concerned.

He glances up. Thinks, for a second, that Flint sent his assistant around, but no, this one's different in some inexplicable way, so he says, on his way to finding his place on the page again, ]

What's up?

[Right, of course. The door would already be open, wouldn't it? Peter thinks to himself as he pushes the door and walks into the office. He can do this, he tells himself. He can do this.

He deliberately glances around the rest of the office, taking stock of the mini-library and the work table, before looking at Tony at his desk. His breath catches in his throat before he can help himself. Tony, alive. Tony, writing with quill and parchment, looking like he belongs here, with the outfit he wears. He looks...so natural, Peter thinks. He stares, unable to help himself. Seeing Tony again feels like a punch to the gut; Peter still can't grasp that what he's seeing is real, not some kind of illusion provided by the universe before it kicks him in the teeth again.

He realizes he is staring, long enough to make it awkward. Shit.

Peter runs a hand through his hair, and he rocks back and forth on his feet, a nervous habit flaring up at his particular situation.]

Um. Yes? Hi! Hello. I'm looking to sign up for the Research division? I'm a new Rifter and I just got here?

[His voice cracks and Peter wishes he could redo this entire encounter already.]

[ The pause is long enough that Tony catches the tail end of the staring, flicking his focus back up from his page. Eyebrows a question mark.

And no recognition, in the look up and down, but the nerves coming off this kid has him reflexively set his quill aside, positioning papers so he doesn't accidentally smear the ink. ]

Sure, that tracks. [ Research division seems to attract a certain type. ] You from, what, an Earth?

[ The American accent is easy to pick out from the renfaires they're surrounded by, after all, and has pretty reliably gestured to contemporary worlds so far. ]

[God that expression on Tony's face is so familiar; a part of home just like May's poor attempts at cooking. Peter wonders if anyone has ever simply passed away from feeling Too Much All At Once before. He wonders if he'll make it into the Guiness Book of World Records if he does.

He almost laughs when Tony asks if he's from an Earth. Like they have to distinguish between Earths. Except they do, he knows. He knows from his own experiences with the multiverse.

He nods.] Yeah, a version of it, anyway. New York.

[He's going to try and not say anything at all about alien invasions, alien technology, Thanos snapping away half of existence, or superheroes. He can totally manage this.]

Is there paperwork I need to fill out? I've never had to write with a quill before.

[Not in real life anyway.]

It's not a lot different from a normal pen. Unless kids these days do all their schoolwork on their phones. Come in, pull up a,

[ and he's already moved on from that sentence, gesturing to the angled chair on the opposite side of his desk as he dips into a drawer. Pulls out some pages. ]

But we can do this, you know, verbal. And up top? [ A look back to Peter. Maybe it's normal for a new guy to look like he's gonna vibrate out of his skeleton. It's kind of a big deal, going from New York to all this.

And he's long since given up on asking earthers if they know who he is. So; ] Coming from earth and knowing stuff about gravity or thermodynamics or space or other basics you got in elementary school you can feel smart explaining to the locals does not actually mean Research is the place for you.

So why do you wanna join, uh—name?

Edited 2023-08-06 01:55 (UTC)

Well, last time I was in school, we still used paper and pen. [He tries not to think about Midtown if he can help it. He tries not to think of the graduation he missed, or the senior year activities he also missed. He tries not to think of MJ and Ned receiving their acceptance letters to MIT and how they'll both go away to school without him. He tries not to think, and the thoughts pile up on him anyway.

He considers how to answer Tony's question about why he wants to sign up for Research. It's a fair question to ask, after all. He considers for a few moments how he wants to reply. He's still debating about joining Scouting too, after all.

Tony asks for his name, and Peter's...almost relieved. He must be from a point before he and Peter met, he thinks. That oddly helps take some of the pressure off of Peter. He feels guilty about feeling grateful for Tony not recognizing him.] Peter, Peter Parker.

[He takes another moment before continuing to answer.] I want to join Research because I feel like it's where I can be most useful. I'm good with research and I'm good with my hands. I used to build computers out of scrap parts I found in dumpsters and I know how to work with chemicals.

[He wishes he could explain about creating his own webfluid but that's a delicate line he doesn't exactly want to cross right now.

He pauses before continuing his answer.]

I think Research is where I can apply what I'm best at to help with Riftwatch. I want to help.

[Another pause, and, like old habit, Peter's youth slips out in the tiny smile that cracks across his face.]

And I think it's Forces division that works with them but I also really want to see a griffon.

[ Peter Parker, and the kid momentarily has Tony's undivided attention.

It might be easy to miss. Tony can, sometimes, pin just about anyone under a confronting stare down, all unswerving analysis and hyperfixation, and this isn't so much unlike that for the time it takes Peter to get to I used to build computers as he diverts his focus down onto some piece of paper in front of him.

Thinking fast, replaying the last few seconds hastily while some other part of his brain continues to listen and take note. ]

They're not exclusive, [ he says, looking back up. ] The catbirds. Don't let the jocks have the monopoly. How long ago did you say you'd rifted in?

[For a moment, Peter feels as though Tony stares at him intensely for a moment, but he blinks and Tony is looking down at a piece of paper. Something in Peter's chest tightens as he considers whether or not that was a moment of recognition; he tells himself to breathe and focus. He can't afford to mess anything up that might affect back home, or negatively impact Tony here in Thedas.

And then Tony calls griffons catbirds, and Peter almost laughs at that description.] Catbirds? Really? Do they purr too?

[Maybe some part of him that remembers bantering with Tony peeks out from where Peter has all but buried his younger and more carefree self for just a moment. He feels a distinct sense of nerd pride at Tony calling Forces jocks, too.

He asks about Peter drifting in, and Peter has to think for a moment to make sure he has it right for how long he's been here.]

It was a few days ago. I know about quarantine, and that I can't leave the Gallows for...awhile?

fade rift. inbox.

backdated first meeting

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject