Prompt# 318- Appease - Room for Improvement 5.5- Tekia - Exalted/ the Avengers

[tekia.livejournal.com]

Title: Room for Improvement
Fandom: Exalted/Avengers
Prompt: appease
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary:After falling into a trap, the first order of business it to find out where you are. But, if where you are makes no sense, then what are you supposed to do? Traveling to the future is easy, just fall asleep, right? Waking up to a whole different world is harder. Luckily, Tony Stark can adapt to any environment.


They worked late into the night, Tony drawing the art and pictographs as Iron Dust translated them into a different language that Tony still couldn’t read. Well, couldn’t read until Iron Dust gave him a pointed look.
“Oh,” Tony said, feeling mildly foolish as he touched his essence and forced it to translate the words. The words on the page moved until he could read them, in English. “How does that work?”
Iron Dust looked up from his translations and glanced at the paper. “The charm? It makes the words appear to you in a way you can understand for a short amount of time. The stronger you get, the longer it will last.” His head bowed over the papers once more. “It doesn’t make you able to read the language; that will come later, with more practice.” He frowned at the words he had just written. “These are mostly stories of an Exalt’s heroic deeds. If we find out the name, we may be able to find out where this manse is located.” Yellow eyes flicked up to catch Tony’s steady gaze. “Then we may find out who brought you here, and why.”
Tony nodded. “Okay, sure. Who could this Exalt be?”
Iron Dust looked over the scattering of papers. “I haven’t found enough to say for sure, but I’m leaning toward a Solar.” A slow smile curved his lip as he returned his eyes to Tony’s face. “Maybe even your past Exaltation.”
“My past what?”
“The person that had your Shard of Essence before you. When you die, the Solar Essence will pass onto another who is so worthy of it. They will reach for their second breath just as you reach your last, and the Essence will carry on.”
“Like reincarnation?”
“Very similar. Although your soul will not be the same soul. They will be their own person, just as you are your own. If you become powerful enough, live long enough, then the Essence may remember you, and thus the new host may recall some things from your lifetime.”
Tony thought back to the dreams he had been having, always the same, him standing in a vast ballroom, drink in hand, a woman standing next to him, and that strange man walking up to him. The only words he could hear, in Yensin’s voice, “Don’t waste it.”
“Do you,” he asked instead of speaking of the dream that still left his heart pounding behind the arc reactor and him short of breath.
“Recall my past self? Yes, I do. Less now that it has been many years since I Exalted, but I do recall him.”
“Tell me about him?”
Iron Dust sat back in his chair and worried his bottom lip a moment. “He was not unlike me, I think. Taller.”
“That doesn’t take much.”
Iron Dust slanted him an annoyed look before picking up his quill once again and bending over the papers. “He was very powerful when he died. He had a school set up for his students, fellow Sidereals and Dragon Blooded alike. I believe he was well respected by his peers.”
“You really don’t know much about him, do you?”
Iron Dust shrugged. “I have a few memories of his, what more do I need? It’s almost like knowing my father. I know what he looked like, I know what he did for a living, and I know a few stories of his adventures.” He paused and stared down at the paper, not really seeing it, his eyes distant. “Sometimes, I feel as if they were the same person. I know just about enough of each of them to say that they very well could be.”
“Is that possible?”
Iron Dust shook his head. “No, not for a Sidereal.”
Tony finished another scrolling stroke of words in the language of the manse, and set his quill down. “I dream of the words that changed my life, but the situation I dream myself in is a far cry from where I heard the words.”
“Something’s calling to you, then. Something about the place you dream of is connected to the words. Or a person in the dream.”
They sat in silence while Tony digested that, the fingers of one hand idly tracing the ink on the paper before him.
“What would happen if I didn’t want to leave?”
When Iron Dust didn’t answer right away, Tony looked up from his hand and nearly wanted to hide behind something. Iron Dust’s face had gone still, but his eyes were bright with some emotion Tony couldn’t name. He shifted in his chair and swallowed hard once.
“Not that I would stay, mind you, this world is crazy, but, well…”
Finally, Iron Dust took a deep breath and visibly forced himself to relax. “But?”
“But you and White Song are like family, now. I don’t know how else to explain it. I mean, the others, my team from the other world, they are my family too, but I’ve been with them for nearly a year now, but it only took a few days for you guys to be my family.”
“Your Circle.”
“Yes!” That felt right, oh so right. “You and White Song are my Circle. What does that mean?”
“A Circle is a group of Exalts that are bonded. Usually they are all Solars, or all Lunars, and almost always there are five.”
“We are each different.”
“We are, but we are also the only Exalts you know.”
“Then-“
“Circles can change.” Iron Dust tossed aside the paper before him and rubbed at his eyes. “Circles can be as small as three traveling together, or five heroes that change the world with their every step on Creation.”
“Does it hurt to lose a part of a Circle?”
“As much as losing a friend always does.” Iron Dust stood and began gathering the papers. “I’ll look into this manse, maybe I’ll have something tomorrow.”
Iron Dust quickly left, his feet moving much quicker than strictly necessary. Tony watched him leave before he forced himself out of the chair and after him.
Tony caught up with Iron Dust as he paused outside Wisp of Shadow’s study. They peered in through the thin slit of the open door. Wisp of Shadow was doing something with his own Essence, the room filled with the dark colors of his magic, the stench of death. Tony put a hand on Iron Dust’s back and whispered, “What is he doing?”
Iron Dust’s body went tense. “Hunting.”
Tony pulled him away from the door and up the stairs. Iron Dust went willingly, silent until they arrived in their bed chamber. White Song was sitting the bed, wrapped in a fluffy towel and her hair wet over one shoulder. She arched a brow when Tony thrust Iron Dust into the room and shut the door behind them.
Iron Dust turned to her. “Did you hide Lost Path’s magic from Wisp of Shadow?”
She looked insulted. “Of course.”
Iron Dust nodded, then sat on the bed. “He’s looking for him.”
“He has been.”
“With magic now.”
White Song sucked in a deep breath, then stood. She quickly shed her towel and pulled on her clothes. “He’s powerful, Iron Dust. He’ll find us out. We have to move right away.”
“Now?” Tony asked.
White Song shook her head. “Tomorrow, maybe. I’ll look for a place to hide you tonight.”
“It’s nearly dawn,” Iron Dust protested. “Just wait a moment and calm down. Let me think. We have the clock with which to bribe Wana. Maybe we can get him to make his move.”
He stood and scratched at his chin. “In the morning.” He placed a hand on White Song’s shoulder. “Do what you do best. Run circles around Wisp of Shadow and keep Lost Path out of his sight.” He turned his gaze to Tony and somehow Tony felt like he was standing in his father’s office once more, three feet tall while the old man glared down at him. Iron Dust’s gaze was a far cry from Howard’s disappointed stare. “You, keep out of his sight until we get you out of his house.”
Tony nodded and sat heavily on the bed. He pried off his shoes and flopped back. “I just want to go home.”
The room was silent as Iron Dust and White Song stared at him, but Tony refused to open his eyes. He was tired, and since. He just wanted to sleep and wake up in his own bed, in his own time. He wanted to be selfish and wake up with Iron Dust and White Song and Steve, Bruce and the other Avengers all together.
His new family. All of his family.
~*~*~*~
White Song woke him midmorning the next day, one hand on his shoulder. “Wake up, you’re having an night terror.”
Tony’s eyes snapped open and his whole body went tense under her hand as a cold sweat pearled on his skin. He stared up at her for a long moment, unable to see her face, but seeing the face of the woman in his dream superimposed over hers.
She lightly slapped him on the face. “Wake up,” she said again. “We have things to do today.”
Slowly, Tony sat up, rubbing one hand over his face. “What time is it?”
“The sun’s nearly at the zenith. Come, get dressed and let us be gone. I found a place for you to stay until we can get you out of here.”
“I like it here,” he said, knowing he sounded sullen, but, well, he really didn’t want to leave the smithy. What luck it had been for them to stumble upon it in the first place, but he was quite sure the next so called safe house wasn’t going to be so well equipped.
“Too bad,” she said, finally let him go and stuffing all of their clothes into Iron Dust’s bag. Once Tony was presentable, she ushered him out of the room and down the stairs. Wisp of Shadow was leaning against the door, arms folded over his chest and dressed in full armor. Tony could feel the nervous tension in White Song as she pressed her back against him.
Putting herself between him and danger, Tony realized. He settled a hand on her hip and tried to convey calm through touch.
Wisp of Shadow looked up at their appearance at the top of the stairs, and one dark brow rose higher than the other. “Leaving without saying goodbye?”
“Stealing away in the dark of the night,” White Song agreed, despite the bright sunlight pouring in through the cracks in the curtains. There was not a hint of the tension in her voice that thrummed through her body as she leaned heavily against Tony.
“Like the thief you are,” Wisp of Shadow went on. He pushed away from the door and pointed one gloved finger at Tony. “I need him.”
“We need him too,” she snapped. “And we had him first.”
Wisp of Shadow snorted. “Lunar, my master has demanded his presence before him. He will come.”
She shook her head and pulled Tony with him down the last few steps. “I can’t let that happen. Luna has plans for him.” She grinned brightly at him. “Luna outranks your master.”
“Not to me, she doesn’t. I will fight you for him.”
Tony had the odd feeling that he should be feeling happy that they were fighting over him. Like the head cheerleader being fought over by all the boys. He dismissed that thought and opened his mouth. “How about you ask me what I want to do?”
They both turned on him, eyes fiery with anger. “Be silent,” they both snapped, and Tony held his hands up in surrender.
“Okay, man, don’t let me get between your little spat, but can I get something to eat while you two duke it out?” They glared at him and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m gonna get something to eat.” He edged around them and ducked into the breakfast room.
Three slaves were huddled against the door, their eyes wide as they stared up at him. He grinned at them and went to the sideboard. One ran off, but the other two braved his presence and pressed up against the door once his back was turned. After a moment, they two raced off, just in time for the door to swing open and White Song to stalk in.
“You-“ she snapped before Wisp of Shadow followed her in.
“Listen,” he was saying over her, “He can help us in this war. He can make us the winners.”
“And I told you, Luna wants him away from the war.”
“I want to be away from the war, too,” Tony said around a mouthful of the hot drink he had come to love while here. They both looked at him, almost startled to find that he was still there. You know, with a mind of his own.
White Song’s expression morphed from startled to smug as she looked back at Wisp of Shadow. “There you go. He doesn’t want to fight.”
“He has no choice. He’s Exalted.”
“How’d you know that,” Tony asked, and Wisp of Shadow rolled his eyes.
“Did you think you were being covert?”
Tony opened his mouth, hesitated, then shrugged. “I guess not. I’m still not going to join this war of yours.” That wasn’t guilt weighing down his shoulders. He knew how this war was going to end, and it wasn’t in the favor of his friends. “I won’t do it for S.H.I.E.L.D, I won’t do it for you.”
“Who’s S.H.I.E.L.D.,” White Song started, then shook her head. “Never mind. He’s going with us, leaving here now, and I’m warning you, Wisp, leave us be.”
“I can’t do that.” His hands were clenched tightly at his sides, but he hadn’t reached for any weapons yet.
White Song once more was standing between them, protecting Tony. For his part, Tony continued to munch on his breakfast, standing nonchalantly behind White Song. While he trusted her to keep him alive and safe, Wisp of Shadow was standing between them and the exit. It was going to be tricky getting out of there.
And, his armor was still in the workshop. He set his plate down and wiped his hands on his trousers. “While you two bicker over this, can I check on my projects? I know how much you two need me in the middle of his, but really, I have things to do.”
They didn’t say anything as he made good on his escape, dodging slaves that were gathered in the hall. None of them followed him as he rushed outside and into the workshop. He gathered up his armor, all the pieces that he had scattered over the shop to keep anybody from finding or stealing it all.
Something told him that he was going to need it right quick. He strapped it all on, contorting in odd shapes to reach all the connections that his machines used to do for him. He strapped on the gauntlets and flexed his fingers, hoping that they were going to hold up in a fight.
With only the sound of the hydraulics following him, he exited the shop with his helmet under his arm. The day was cool, a soft breeze rustling the leaves overhead. The back door to the house was still open, and only one slave had followed him, here dark eyes intent on him as he approached. When he reached the door, she ducked away into the shadows.
“They’re going to fight,” she said, her voice low. “The master never fights in his house.”
Tony nodded. “With all the children here, that’s not a good idea. I’ll try to get them out of here before things turn physical.”
The house was silent, which wasn’t unusual, but there was an air of anticipation hanging heavy over the house. The slaves that had been crowded around the door were gone as he peered into the breakfast room.
It was empty. Tony looked around for where they could have gone, and was suddenly slammed into from behind.
White Song wrapped her arms around one of his and pulled. “Let’s go now.” Together they quickly left the house, White Song pulling him behind as she threaded her way through the people. “Iron Dust said to join him at the temple. He has worked out an agreement with Lord Wana, but you are to keep your mouth shut.”
“Sorry,” Tony said by reflex.
“Do you have the time piece?”
Tony fished it out of the bag and held it up to the light. The gold casing glittered brightly. “Safe with me,” he said. “What does Iron Dust have planned?”
“Who knows what’s going on in his head. We are just along for the ride.” She pulled him through parts of the city that he had yet to explore in what soon appeared to be a short cut to Lord Wana’s temple.
Iron Dust met them at the door. “I have bad news. The Hunt has hired a Sidereal. We’re losing time.”
White Song cursed. “Wisp of Shadow has uncovered our secrets. He’ll be coming after us.”
Iron Dust grinned wickedly. Tony was glad he was on their side at that moment. But then again, he suddenly seemed reckless and dangerous. “Then we are hunted.” He looked to Tony finally. “Present Wana with your gift and ask him for the way to get home.” He glared. “Be nice.”
Tony saluted. “Yes, sir.”
Iron Dust spun on his heel and he led the way into the temple. “Lord Wana, I present to you Lost Path with an offering.”
They both turned to him, and Tony stepped between them. He knelt, because he felt that was something Wana was going to want from him. He held up the clock, only as large as his hand, but ticking steadily and happily.
Lord Wana stared at Tony for a long moment before his eyes finally flicked down to his hand. A smile curved his lips as he reached out and touched one finger to the gold casing. “It is beautiful,” he said. “Teach me how to use it.”
Tony stood and set the clock on a near table. “There are twenty-four hours in a day,” he started, hoping that it was as true here as it was back home. He went on to teach something that he had never thought he would have to ever teach anybody. Hopefully this would appease the god. Tony was tired of dealing with him.
By the time he had finished, Wana was bent over the clock, his black hair heavy over his shoulder. “I like this very much,” he said finally. “With this, I shall live.”
Iron Dust clapped his hands loudly and the both of them jumped in surprise. He had been so silent before. “I’m glad you were so predictable.”
Wana’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
Iron Dust grinned. “You’ve told us your plans for betraying Creation. You’ve confessed to plotting against us all.” He folded his arms behind his back and walked around Wana, drawing him away from Tony. “You knew, as well as Luna, that our Lost Path was from another world. And not just any world, but from our future.” He rolled his eyes up, as if he were thinking. “Ah, yes, the Third Age. Where machines rule. What is a god to do?”
Tony gaped at Iron Dust. How much did he know about the things Tony hadn’t told him?
White Song reached for Tony and drew him away from the two men as they circled each other. He glared at her. “What is it? Is it the air? Is that what’s making everybody want to fight?”
She rolled her eyes and pointed to Wana. “He owes you, make your request now before Iron Dust makes him forget.”
Tony spun on his heel. “Lord Wana! In payment, what we agreed upon. You will tell me how to return to my time.”
Wana stiffened, raised his chin and slowly looked at Tony from over his shoulder. “You speak so rudely to me?”
With White Song at his back, Tony stood his ground before this god. After all, he thought, he wasn’t nearly half as scary as Loki had been atop the Stark Tower. When Tony didn’t cower, Wana turned fully toward him.
“For giving me a life beyond the Second Age, I will tell you where you need to go.” He turned on his heel, robes fluttering behind him. “You were right, Sidereal, do you want a prize for discovering my goal? This age is dying, and there is nothing we can do about it. What do you want me to say? That I’m willing to die here, like this?”
He led them through a hall and toward a throne room. He sat on the gilded chair and folded his hands before him. “There is a manse to the north of here that holds the secrets you seek.” He held out his hand and the clock appeared in his palm. He smoothed his fingers over the glass face.
“When Yu Shan abandons us all, only physical things will remain. The gods will die, and only those of us clever enough to find a way out will ever have a chance. With this, humans will forever worship me.”
“Where is this manse?”
Wana’s eyes glanced up from the clock. “It floats in the north. Powered by the pure Essence from the First Age.”
Iron Dust nodded sharply and turned on his heel. Wana stood and held out a hand. The three of them froze in place, and Tony turned wide eyes to White Song. She minutely shook her head and tipped her chin toward Iron Dust, who was glaring at Wana. “Release me, Time God. I am on a mission for Yu Shan and you cannot stand in my way, as per the laws of heaven demand.” His voice had gone soft and cold and there was a threat hidden in his words, flashing in his yellow eyes. His hands were fisted at his sides, trembling with repressed emotion.
“You still owe a debt to me,” Wana started, but Iron Dust suddenly moved, breaking whatever spell the god had put over them. He spun on his heel to face him, contempt turning his features.
“I owe you? You who turns his back on Yu Shan; you who plots to settle into bed with the winning side, rather than to do what’s right and honorable? I owe you nothing.” He cut his hand through the air. “Be satisfied that I leave only my scorn behind.” He turned away again and marched out. White Song sniffed the air and followed, her nose in the air, Tony in hand.
“What’s going on? That mean something to you? What did he mean by floating? The manse from the future was underwater.”
“But not always,” White Song said. “You said it hadn’t always been underwater.”
“It’s an Air manse, thus where better for it to be than in the air?”
“How the hell are we going to find a floating manse with the only clue being in the north somewhere?”
They ran through the city, dodging people left and right, Tony holding both Iron Dust’s and White Song’s hands so as not to lose them in the press. White Song leapt into the air, their joined hands held high to dodge a duo of children so as not to break their hold. Tony laughed, heart thudding behind his arc reactor and panic making his voice high.
“By getting up high,” Iron Dust said. He found a set of stairs that climbed up the outside of a building. They climbed the stairs and Iron Dust pushed the two of them before him. “Keep your eyes up.” Tony spun in place, but the buildings around them were too tall.
“He can’t have meant in the north of town?”
“No, he didn’t, but there, look.” He pointed and indeed, there was a blimp floating just above a pavilion. “We’ll take that.”
White Song rushed off, her body quick and graceful as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop until she disappeared into the building the blimp was tied to. Iron Dust pushed and shoved at Tony until he too climbed up the vertical wall in White Song’s wake.
They arrived in time to see White Song pass over a handful of jade chips to a woman lounging on a couch, two slaves flanking her with large fans. She smiled sultrily at Tony and Iron Dust, her fingers wagging in their direction. Iron Dust bowed deeply to her. Belatedly, Tony copied him.
“That should be enough to erase your memory of us,” White Song was saying as the jade disappeared somewhere into her silky and thin dress. She purred something, but White Song was already moving toward the blimp.
Tony gleefully rushed to the controls, eyes drinking in the knobs and gauges. He heard the two of them gathering the ropes and ties as he began learning the controls. When Iron Dust came up behind him, Tony had already started the engines and gaining altitude. He grinned over his shoulder at Iron Dust.
“This is amazing. Can I have this when we’re done?”
One fine brow arched up. “You plan on taking it with you? Back to your time?”
Tony’s smile froze on his lips as he remembered that Iron Dust knew that he had come from a world where the Exalts weren’t in power. He went back to gazing out the deck window, watching Great Forks grow smaller below them. “I didn’t want to tell you.”
He could feel Iron Dust’s gaze on him, but resolutely refused to look at him. Were he a lesser man, he may even have flushed with shame. But he wasn’t, and he fought back the guilt that was crawling up his throat, leaving a foul taste in the back of his throat.
“You didn’t have to, your armor and ignorance did that well enough.” Now Tony did look at him, eyes snapping with anger.
“I’m-“ he cut himself off. “Yeah, okay, ignorant. I didn’t know anything about this world. Time. What does Luna know?”
Iron Dust’s smile was full of mockery. “What makes you think any mortal knows what Luna thinks? Half the time I’m not sure Luna knows what Luna thinks.” He pointed out at the walls of the city now laid out before them. “Head in that direction and keep to it. Before we seek out this floating manse, we need to lose our tail.”
“Wisp of Shadow.”
Iron Dust nodded. “And the Hunt. One of my brethren helps them, and that is unlucky for us. We can’t use Essence anymore, if they have our scent already, which I believe they do.”
“Do you know who?”
He shook his head. “No, but I will. They’ll follow us, and they won’t be able to hide from me if they’re watching me.”
“But they’ll be looking for me, right?”
“For us all. We are all in the same boat, aren’t we? We are all demons to them.”
Tony loosely looped his elbow around the wheel of the air boat, leaning on it and looking at Iron Dust. “But he’s a Sidereal, right? You called him your brethren. Why would he hunt you, knowing that you’re the same?”
Iron Dust sighed and leaned on the console before him. “Although we are all brothers, we follow different paths toward our goals.”
“The continuation of Creation.”
“Yes. And we all have our own ideas of how best to do it.”
Tony studied him for a moment. Iron Dust was looking out at the landscape spreading out before them, his features set in a poker face that could give Tony a run for his money. He was silent for so long, Tony too turned back to the helm.
“We’re not always right,” Iron Dust finally murmured. “We make mistakes and people die.”
Tony closed his eyes against the harsh truth of his own past. “Yeah,” he said. “Sounds familiar.”
“We hold the fate of all Creation in our hands, and we are fallible.”