brethrencourt | TEST DRIVE 001b

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TEST DRIVE 001b

Try on those ridiculous clothes, sample the catering, and run through your lines. It's time for the Long 18th Test Drive.

ARRIVAL: Characters come to in a dark, tropical forest in a huddle. There are the sounds of strange birds, animals, and insects all around, some of them perhaps worryingly close. With a closer inspection, arrivals realize they're on an incline: Going up will prove fruitless, no matter who they are. The ground there starts to grow rocky the further they climb, and they may find themselves slipping back down to their arrival point, even if they're expert mountain climbers. The ground sloping downward will eventually level out leading toward light, music, and noise. But for the moment, they're simply a group of lost people (or monsters/bipedal animals/robots/etc) with no idea where they are or how they got here. Now's probably a good time to ask, "Who the hell are you? Where am I?" Time to use the buddy system.

TORTUGA: There's a town off the coast of Hispaniola that never sleeps, and that town is Tortuga. It's swapped hands more times than anyone can count, but for now, the French have it. And they do like the extra money the pirates that frequent it bring in; they like it so much that they imported over 1600 prostitutes from Europe to keep them happy. So you might as well relax while you're here, as much as you can with random gunshots and fist fights, anyway. Drop in for a drink at the Faithful Bride, check out the wares for sale (provided to you tax-free thanks to piracy) near the dock front. Visit the warehouse where those ill-gotten goods are stored and distributed. Maybe you're looking for work on a ship? The captains can usually be found - frazzled and busy - in the taverns and at the shipwrights and everywhere in between (just look for the hats), and if they're in a good mood, they might be willing. But the key point of Tortuga is this: Have fun. Some examples might include: A barfight! Wandering into a brothel (maybe by mistake)! Getting duped into joining a crew! There's no end of trouble to get into.

MIRROR POST: When they arrived, every person found, in a pocket or a bag or tucked away somewhere on their person, a little compact mirror. It's nothing fancy: Square, with hinges and a latch that keep it closed, the outer casing carved from seashell, the inner mirror a little spotted with age. But if it's played around with enough, it quickly becomes apparent it works as a communication device. Here you have access to all of the marked folks, no matter how far and wide they might spread. Need to have a heart to heart with a buddy in Singapore? Want to send out a general ad to everyone at large? Looking for answers to questions? This is the quickest way to get all of that.

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE: The world is open, and it's full of pearls that are just waiting for you to take them. Maybe you want to have some quiet time to scrub clean in a bathhouse in Singapore. Perhaps you're visiting the fabled pirate city of Libertalia in Madagascar. Maybe you've found yourself lost in Mayan ruins or stranded on an island. Or you were shipwrecked in a hurricane. Or you've decided to relocate to Port Royal or one of the American colonies for a quieter sort of life. Either way, this is your story, might as well make it a good one.

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i. arrival. pay attention, none of this is happening by accident.
[Tropical paradises are okay. He's great with those, when he remembers those are a thing long enough to do something about before retreating like a...Whatever retreats into caves like he does his workshop occasionally. It doesn't matter. Point is, he's fine with the whole tropical vacation thing.

What he is not fine with is going on a tropical vacation without any warning while running some configurations for things he's working on (suits) out of nowhere, when moments before he'd been in his workshop. That's the part he's not okay with. He's also not okay, when he actually takes a moment to look around himself, realizing he's not exactly alone on this little adventure. You'd think with him knowing Norse gods and all the flat out weird of the last few years he'd be used to the weird coming to him and weird things happening.

And you'd be wrong.]

What is this, some kind of mass kidnapping by USS Enterprise or something?

ii. tortuga. they say money talks but you ain't sayin' nothing, shh.
[Well, one thing Tortuga is not is a place to kick back with a mai tai and work on the old suntan while not even pretending not to look at beach bunnies wearing practically nothing. It is definitely not that kind of place. Tony's not exactly sure what he's been expecting, following the noise that slowly became far away music, which became lights and louder music and shouting and gunshots and the sound of distant fist fights. That hasn't included what he does find, when he actually reaches Tortuga proper, which is a slowly darkening sky and wooden ships crowded together down below, far down the dirt path that leads to the wide, clear expanses of tropic ocean, packed in together like sardines, more anchored off shore beyond that, and longboats lining what he can see of the sandy beach.

There are tents down there, as well, and noise from them as well as light, and as he starts passing building by rickety wooden building, he is painfully aware that 'authentic' might not be the word he's looking for. Not when he's mean-mugged by a guy with a peg leg and his eyepatched pal, not from the come-hither looks from a couple of women in a shadow corner, wearing more clothes than he's ever seen on a call girl and still managing to make it seem like he shouldn't get caught staring too long. No, given that, the lamps that have flame and oil hanging above on wooden posts, the music...The entire atmosphere, he's fairly sure the word he's looking for is real.

He can't explain it. Isn't going to try, he can't be sure he's not having a stroke or something. Maybe it's the way that, under all of that noise, there's silence. No undercurrent hum of electricity, betraying what he sees with his own two eyes. He's not even sure how he knows that, but he's willing to be he is.

He finally stops in front of a particularly noisy bar (tavern?), the doors constantly swinging open and shut as sober people go in, and drunk people stumble out, the latter significantly louder. Notable are the accents from a million different places, and yeah. He's sure real is exactly the word he's looking for.

And isn't that a terrifying thought? In a way? But he's saved from following that rabbit hole in his mind when he sees someone dressed a hell of a lot more normal than the Long John Silvers and Captain Hooks running around this place and does his best to appear nonchalant about it, as he makes his way over. And very much not like he's looking for normal people in what is quite possibly a town full of pirates.]

So what's the over-under on this being a mass hallucination, or are we just going with the theory that time travel is suddenly real and we'd better start brushing up on our sea shanties and binge drinking we haven't really used since college skills.

iii. mirror. everybody ain't got it, understand son - this shit is not random.
[It hasn't taken long to figure out what the mirror does, and while it's crude, in his opinion, and perma-spotted, since he's scrubbed at the actual glass for forever and nothing's changed, it'll do. If it means long distance communication, or reaching the masses as a whole, that's probably the best case scenario he could hope for.

Which is why, though he feels really stupid talking to a mirror, he's doing it anyway, having found a nice corner of the beach that is not pirate-infested and where he won't be overheard.]

Alright, hopefully this gets to the new tattoo club - I mean, I can't guarantee it, mirrors don't work that way because science - but I figured it's time we all have our little meet and greet, implement some kind of buddy system since we're on Treasure Island Does Acid.

What I'm mostly interested in is where and when you're from. I don't know, maybe there's some kind of pattern to this thing and if there's a pattern to why we're here, maybe there's a pattern that'll get us home. So don't be shy, share with the rest of the class.

Edited 2017-05-01 02:02 (UTC)

[ Figuring out the mirror and what it was all about was one of the first things Peter did once he came to. It had to be important to be on their person. He's not really sure if it works the way it's supposed to until he sees Tony through it and doesn't even bother to hide his grin. What a relief to see a familiar face. ]

Pretty sure the rules of science don't apply here, Mr. Stark.

[ Stating the obvious but it bears repeating. ]

No, I'm pretty sure science still works. Gravity's still kicking, as far as I can tell, physics are still working because I don't even want to imagine what kind of mess the ocean would make. These things run on something. It's just figuring out what.

[But that is absolutely not even the point and how dare you distract him like that, Peter.]

But for that I need to break this baby open and obviously I kind of can't at the moment. So back to the original question: Where and when.

["Because science?" And how does someone "do" acid? Ninety percent of what this guy is saying makes no sense to Kubo, and his nose scrunches up in confusion. Still, it's a question he's curious enough to want answered, too, so he pipes in.]

I'm from Japan. I lived above a small village by the sea.

[Going by his dirty, traditional garb, it would be safe to say Edo to Meiji era. Feudal Japan, that is.]

Edited (ffff new icons sorry) 2017-05-02 02:56 (UTC)

[Don't worry, Kubo, that's how 98% of the people around Tony at any given time feel. You are not alone. It's a sort of rite of passage at this point, to be personally confused by Tony Stark.]

That's. Very illuminating, thank you. [That is not illuminating at all.] So do we have a year estimate, or...I'm looking for hard dat-

You know what, the whys don't matter.

I . . . don't know what year it is. Maybe around . . . 1610? [He says this like he's never thought about it before, and now he's asking himself why he never asked. He's been literally living in a cave, he doesn't even know who the Emperor is.]

The whys always matter. That's how you find out the "how." [Adults. You gotta teach them everything.]

1610, that's just. That's great. [It is not great. He's not sure how much more his brain can actually handle at this point.]

See, you're right. They do. Not to you right now, maybe never, but they do. But right now the whys are taking a backseat to the whats. We're gonna use the scientific method because I'm not buying the magical time travel theory.

Me either. Magic can do many things, but turning back the clock is not one of them.

[He says that so plainly, like it's just a fact of life and magic is completely normal, but with a weight that says he's tried anyway.]

So "what" matters?

Who. When. Where. If we're lucky, and sometimes I like to think I am- [He's really not that lucky.] -it'll lead us right to the what. Nothing's that random, nearly everything in the universe follows some sort of pattern.

It's just getting a big enough data set.

[Which probably makes absolutely no sense to this kid whatsoever, but congrats, Kubo, you're a living sounding board at the moment.]

Besides, all "magic"- [And yes, that is a one-handed finger quote.] -is is science we don't understand yet. Gimme some time, I'll figure it out. [It sounds good, right? Really sure of himself. Here's hoping it actually works.]

[Kubo stares at the mirror a moment, flatly.

The image shakes a tad as Kubo sets it down for a better view, pulls out his shamisen, and strums once. The sail draws itself up the mast, ropes lashing it up neat and tidy, all on their own. The ship pulls slightly to port, completely devoid of the groaning of wood.

His ship is literally made of leaves, controlled by his music.

NGL, Kubo looks a little smug]

I think you might need to open your mind a little.

[Okay, so...That's. That's new. Doesn't disprove his point, though, and he'd love a chance to see that up close and personal with the ability to film it and analyze it and not be stuck in some backwater 18th Century hellhole so he could make sense of it, but he's going to have to deal with what he's got.]

That's impressive. But see, that just proves my point. I'm willing to bet it's got something to do with molecular excitement with sound as the catalyst and I would actually kill to be home right now to actually pick that apart.

Point being. I met a couple of Norse gods a while back. Turns out they're aliens. So yeah, magic is just science we can't explain, and I'm betting that's no different.

[Kubo just levels Tony with another flat stare. He's gonna be needing a lot of those with this guy. He wants to just take him down a few pegs...]

. . . You're no fun.

[Well, knocking him down a few can be for later. For now, Kubo's expression shifts to curiousity and frustration.]

Why can't you just take things as they are? Why do you always have to take them apart?

[As it happens, a black wool robe blends in with the weird fashions of this weird place quite well, especially once he's got it good and dusty, but a black wool robe in the tropics is also awful in every sense of the word. It's hot and heavy and scratchy in a way he really never noticed before and Harry has finally given in and wadded it up under his arm. Between the school uniform underneath and the glasses, he's getting a few looks and mutters now.

He's used to being stared at though, that's what happens when you're Harry Potter, so he isn't as fussed about it as he probably ought to be. Doesn't mean he isn't a bit relieved when someone else appears wearing something that at least looks like it was made in his home century.]

Er, well. Time travel is real, actually, bit weird but I just learned about it myself. Dunno if that's what's happened though. It wasn't the same at all.

[He looks at the barrel in front of them, topped with a lantern burning some kind of fish-smelling oil that's got to be real.] I don't think we're lucky enough to be hallucinating.

[This is not the first time he's run into people claiming things like time travel and magic and whatever else mystical bs thing they want to is real. And certainly not the first kid. But really, it's getting a little old, as far as he's concerned. Because while "real" is still the word he thinks is what he really wants and his brain keeps trying to reject, he's not so sure he's ready to buy into the whole thing with his life savings.]

The theory is real enough, yeah. Whether it could actually work...? Well, we're here. Either this is some kind of glitch in the matrix, we're on some...Outstanding drugs right now, or somehow we're actually standing in ye olde pirate times. I'm not sure which one of those theories is less awful, honestly.

[Isn't that the kicker, though? He's got plenty of theories and the one that feels the most right is the last one he wants to believe. He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking out at the water with all of those wooden ships, the sounds of men loading them with God knows what, and every single gut feeling he has says he's really seeing this happening and that it's not the simulation theory going haywire.]

So, let's back it up to the part where you said time travel is real and I - going out on a very shakey limb here - say spill the beans.

It's not a theory, I've actually done it. Turns out my friend Hermione's been doing it all year, to take more classes.

[That doesn't sound like complete nonsense at all, right? Harry follows Tony's gaze to the water, the ships, the tide, the everything that makes this really real, just as real as when he and Hermione had followed their past selves around for three hours to free Buckbeak and Sirius.]

This isn't like that, though. I don't think it's the same.

[He scowls a little, tapping his glasses up his nose again—it's bloody warm here and they keep sliding down—and glances up at Tony.]

Last time at least I had a reason to be doing it. I was on the train from school, it's the end of term, I was done with everything.

[ Rhodey finds himself in a similar situation. Except, instead of being in a workshop tinkering with bits of random machinery, Rhodey himself had been mid-conversation with some of his superiors in the Air Force. There hadn’t been any warning at all before he’d suddenly found himself here.

Wherever here may be.

And as he walks around, taking a second to get his bearing, he really can't find it in himself to be surprised when it's Tony's voice he hears not too far from him. In all fairness, a lot of weird has been happening lately. It's reassuring in a way he can't describe, to know that the weird shit is happening to both of them and not to only one of them.

~~Not to only Tony, especially.~~ ]

If only. [ That's not to say he isn't completely dismissing the idea. After all, Norse Gods have turned out to be very real, Captain America is walking around in the 21st Century, and his best friend is a real life superhero. Why not Captain Kirk as well? ]

Wherever we are, [ Rhodey spares a glance at all the trees in the forest they’re currently standing in. Most likely not the USS Enterprise. ] I don't think it's in Kansas.

[He's not sure, really, whether relief at hearing Rhodey's voice is what he's supposed to be having, but it's what he feels all the same, as he drops his gaze from the canopy to search him out. And yeah, that's definitely relief, at least at first. Because at least he knows he's in one piece, and it's one less thing he has to worry about, finding himself in this place.]

Kansas with global warming, maybe. [It's not very funny, however, and Tony knows that, but well. It's out there now.]

Let's be honest, though, the real question is how, right? How do the both of us get snatched with no missing time - I'm not missing time, are you? - and dropped into a damn jungle without even realizing it. Is that even possible? Because I'm calling bs on that right now.

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TEST DRIVE 001b

tony stark | mcu

iii hey it's ur adopted not-son

oh kid are u in for a rude surprise tho

iii

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WHOOPS sorry for the late

ii

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i - don't mind the dust

/reaches for