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tamingthemuseTitle: Room for Improvement (extra)
Fandom: the Avengers/ Exalted
Prompt: mummy
Warnings: none
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After coming home Exalted, Tony has plans and ideas all but pouring out of his ears. Back in Creation, there was magic everywhere, and a little hard work wasn’t going to stop him from finding those wells of magic in his own world.
Bruce snorted into his drink, nearly choking on it. Tony gave him a flatly unimpressed look. Bruce caught the look and had the grace to at least look abashed as he said, “Even in a past life, you were arrogant.”
That earned him a jab between the ribs from Tony, and he squirmed away from the attack. Tony made to turn back to Iron Dust, but paused, wondering if, in his new found blessed nature, if he could now take on the Hulk.
Thoughts to dwell upon another time.
He motioned for Iron Dust to get on with it.
Iron Dust waited a moment, making sure they were done playing before lowering his eyes to the chart. “You lived in the First Age, a time of great wonders and glory.” He held up a hand, and his eyes took on a faraway glaze to them that made him look eerie and ethereal at the same time. Those yellow eyes, so much brighter than Yinsen’s had been, were nothing short of beautiful, even as he found them the creepiest pair of eyes he had ever seen. “In the First Age, the rivers flowed like honey, and the skies were crystal. Creation, what you now call Earth, was the middle ground, and it was blessed by the gods and exalts alike. The children of the Unconquered Sun ruled, and among those kings, you held your own throne. You ruled a land that stretched from the Shadows of Shangdar, which was long ago lost in the Contagion, to the banks of The Inland Sea.” He touched his fingers to the chart, and Bruce nearly jumped out of his seat when the chalk on the paper began moving on its own.
Tony reached out and rested a hand on Bruce’s shoulder to keep him in his seat. “Do we need to call your mummy into the room to keep the shadows at bay?” Tony mocked, “Are you really afraid of a little magic? After Loki? After the Hour at Hand?”
Bruce heaved in a deep breath and settled back into his seat. “I wasn’t expecting that. For all your talk, I really haven’t seen any of you do any magic.” He smirked in Tony’s direction, but Tony could see the effort to cost him to keep his surprise from turning into something less… safe. For them all.
Finally, Bruce nodded, and Iron Dust dipped his head in silent apology.
The chalk hadn’t stopped it rearrangement on the paper, but once Iron Dust returned his attention to it, it sped up and took a three dimensional shape. Tony recognized the man only from the corpse he had only briefly laid eyes upon months ago. His lips parted as something like awe filled his chest, tightening around the metal casing in his chest. He slipped his hand from Bruce’s shoulder and covered the glow of the arc reactor.
“Tony?”
“That’s me,” he croaked out. He had to wet his lips again before he could say more than that. “I saw his body once before.”
“Body?”
Tony nodded. “His remains, laid out in a casket. He looked the same.”
“Like the zombies you guys faced in the temple?” Tony nodded, unable to tear his eyes from the chalk man now calmly walking over the paper, leaving small dustings of chalk with each footfall, his hands folded behind his back.
Iron Dust’s hands were glowing faintly with his yellow light.
“He fought in the war, and slew no less than three armies led by the enemies on his own. His talents laid in his ability to make a weapon out of anything on hand. He built great wonders that protected Creation from the Wyld and from those that did not live.”
Bruce frowned at the odd phrasing, but didn’t interrupt again. The chalk man turned on his heel and walked back toward Iron Dust’s hand where it still rested on the paper. He kicked at his finger before deciding that it would make a good seat and sat abruptly with a puff of chalk dust. He pulled from nowhere some tools and began forming something out of the dust that was too small to really see. Tony leaned forward, unmindful of how his chest pinched his hand between the table and the arc reactor.
“Four great events happened in his life that change the course of fate.”
The dust golem began to change colors at they watched, going from the odd sort of grey that used chalk turns to, to yellow at first, and then red. Tony grinned, and sat back, pointing. “Those are my colors.” Something giddy was building up in his chest as he watched the golem and listened to Iron Dust’s soft voice, threatening to choke him. He finally tore his gaze away and caught Iron Dust’s eyes.
“Four events? Do you know which they were?”
Iron Dust tilted his head in Tony’s direction, his hair falling over one shoulder. Tony felt the muscles under his skin jump as those yellow eyes settled on him, all of that magic, wisdom, and power focused on him.
“The first, his exaltation. Whenever on becomes exalted, it changes the course of fate. Where there was once no hope, there are opportunities unbound. Where Death and Chaos would win, Life and Order take control. Creation is changed forever upon a blessing from the gods.
“The second would be The Gifted One’s creation of a defensive weapon that protected all of Creation from the hordes of Wyld creatures. Without that invention, Creation would long ago have been unraveled and descended back into the Chaos from which we were created.
“The third would be,” Iron Dust hesitated, eyes suddenly shooting to the chalk creature he had summoned. He had finished building his little project and held his two hands up, gently cupping the item. Slowly, he lowered his hands, but the item stayed afloat. Tony gasped.
“My island.”
“The manse,” Iron Dust corrected. “A manse is a place of great power and order. It too, has the power to create order and harmony in Creation, and thus change the very fabric of fate.” Tony nodded, and once more felt his fingers tingling, ready to get to work on pulling that island from the bottom of the ocean and into the air once more. But before that…
“The fourth?”
Iron Dust closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In unison, Bruce and Tony copied him, both their attention rapt on his face. Deliberately, Iron Dust cracked his eyes only enough that the bright yellow, was it brighter now?, could only just be seen.
“The fourth was the slaughter of his soul mate and wife.”
Fandom: the Avengers/ Exalted
Prompt: mummy
Warnings: none
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After coming home Exalted, Tony has plans and ideas all but pouring out of his ears. Back in Creation, there was magic everywhere, and a little hard work wasn’t going to stop him from finding those wells of magic in his own world.
Bruce snorted into his drink, nearly choking on it. Tony gave him a flatly unimpressed look. Bruce caught the look and had the grace to at least look abashed as he said, “Even in a past life, you were arrogant.”
That earned him a jab between the ribs from Tony, and he squirmed away from the attack. Tony made to turn back to Iron Dust, but paused, wondering if, in his new found blessed nature, if he could now take on the Hulk.
Thoughts to dwell upon another time.
He motioned for Iron Dust to get on with it.
Iron Dust waited a moment, making sure they were done playing before lowering his eyes to the chart. “You lived in the First Age, a time of great wonders and glory.” He held up a hand, and his eyes took on a faraway glaze to them that made him look eerie and ethereal at the same time. Those yellow eyes, so much brighter than Yinsen’s had been, were nothing short of beautiful, even as he found them the creepiest pair of eyes he had ever seen. “In the First Age, the rivers flowed like honey, and the skies were crystal. Creation, what you now call Earth, was the middle ground, and it was blessed by the gods and exalts alike. The children of the Unconquered Sun ruled, and among those kings, you held your own throne. You ruled a land that stretched from the Shadows of Shangdar, which was long ago lost in the Contagion, to the banks of The Inland Sea.” He touched his fingers to the chart, and Bruce nearly jumped out of his seat when the chalk on the paper began moving on its own.
Tony reached out and rested a hand on Bruce’s shoulder to keep him in his seat. “Do we need to call your mummy into the room to keep the shadows at bay?” Tony mocked, “Are you really afraid of a little magic? After Loki? After the Hour at Hand?”
Bruce heaved in a deep breath and settled back into his seat. “I wasn’t expecting that. For all your talk, I really haven’t seen any of you do any magic.” He smirked in Tony’s direction, but Tony could see the effort to cost him to keep his surprise from turning into something less… safe. For them all.
Finally, Bruce nodded, and Iron Dust dipped his head in silent apology.
The chalk hadn’t stopped it rearrangement on the paper, but once Iron Dust returned his attention to it, it sped up and took a three dimensional shape. Tony recognized the man only from the corpse he had only briefly laid eyes upon months ago. His lips parted as something like awe filled his chest, tightening around the metal casing in his chest. He slipped his hand from Bruce’s shoulder and covered the glow of the arc reactor.
“Tony?”
“That’s me,” he croaked out. He had to wet his lips again before he could say more than that. “I saw his body once before.”
“Body?”
Tony nodded. “His remains, laid out in a casket. He looked the same.”
“Like the zombies you guys faced in the temple?” Tony nodded, unable to tear his eyes from the chalk man now calmly walking over the paper, leaving small dustings of chalk with each footfall, his hands folded behind his back.
Iron Dust’s hands were glowing faintly with his yellow light.
“He fought in the war, and slew no less than three armies led by the enemies on his own. His talents laid in his ability to make a weapon out of anything on hand. He built great wonders that protected Creation from the Wyld and from those that did not live.”
Bruce frowned at the odd phrasing, but didn’t interrupt again. The chalk man turned on his heel and walked back toward Iron Dust’s hand where it still rested on the paper. He kicked at his finger before deciding that it would make a good seat and sat abruptly with a puff of chalk dust. He pulled from nowhere some tools and began forming something out of the dust that was too small to really see. Tony leaned forward, unmindful of how his chest pinched his hand between the table and the arc reactor.
“Four great events happened in his life that change the course of fate.”
The dust golem began to change colors at they watched, going from the odd sort of grey that used chalk turns to, to yellow at first, and then red. Tony grinned, and sat back, pointing. “Those are my colors.” Something giddy was building up in his chest as he watched the golem and listened to Iron Dust’s soft voice, threatening to choke him. He finally tore his gaze away and caught Iron Dust’s eyes.
“Four events? Do you know which they were?”
Iron Dust tilted his head in Tony’s direction, his hair falling over one shoulder. Tony felt the muscles under his skin jump as those yellow eyes settled on him, all of that magic, wisdom, and power focused on him.
“The first, his exaltation. Whenever on becomes exalted, it changes the course of fate. Where there was once no hope, there are opportunities unbound. Where Death and Chaos would win, Life and Order take control. Creation is changed forever upon a blessing from the gods.
“The second would be The Gifted One’s creation of a defensive weapon that protected all of Creation from the hordes of Wyld creatures. Without that invention, Creation would long ago have been unraveled and descended back into the Chaos from which we were created.
“The third would be,” Iron Dust hesitated, eyes suddenly shooting to the chalk creature he had summoned. He had finished building his little project and held his two hands up, gently cupping the item. Slowly, he lowered his hands, but the item stayed afloat. Tony gasped.
“My island.”
“The manse,” Iron Dust corrected. “A manse is a place of great power and order. It too, has the power to create order and harmony in Creation, and thus change the very fabric of fate.” Tony nodded, and once more felt his fingers tingling, ready to get to work on pulling that island from the bottom of the ocean and into the air once more. But before that…
“The fourth?”
Iron Dust closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In unison, Bruce and Tony copied him, both their attention rapt on his face. Deliberately, Iron Dust cracked his eyes only enough that the bright yellow, was it brighter now?, could only just be seen.
“The fourth was the slaughter of his soul mate and wife.”
