trans_9 | When you gotta go, you gotta... GO?!??

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When you gotta go, you gotta... GO?!??

Well, that was a fun little adventure. Let's go exploring, and run into crazy people screaming about guys in superpowered suits, and then shoot said guys in suits. He wasn't up near front since he didn't have any firearms on him, which meant defense was limited. Plus everybody yelling didn't let him really get in to talk, not that he really wanted to. Though their fearless leader's pretty hot when she's take charge and yelling.

Not that he'd ever say anything. Unless she asked... Maybe.

In the meantime, he found himself with an urge to visit the little boys room, and small problem. He needed to find where the heck it is.

Hey wait, that looks kind of... promising...

.............

"....yeah, I can hold it." Fidgets nervously.

"No, I can't..."

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This place was infuriating. The way it was built, the way it was run, the entire operation infuriated him. Tony was used to being somewhat in control of a situation, or at least he usually had some sort of plan. Right now, he couldn't formulate one. There were too many unknowns left. There was too much going on.

The moment he had time to himself, he went off to change that.

He avoided the city itself, despite how familiar it was in comparison to the rest of the ship. It was possibly a distraction, or a collection, one more thing he didn't understand. Tony had found his way back into the Hub, and he promptly began trying to poke his nose into things he wasn't supposed to touch. There were an awful lot of closed-off passages, seemingly ones with the most promise. Nope. It was impossible to force the issue. He'd try a door, either find it locked or the contents uninteresting, and move on.

He had no focus. He had nothing to work on. How the hell was he supposed to make progress if there was nothing for him to do?

Oh a good note, he'd found the can.

"If you think that's bad, wait until you see the mess hall." The observation was made, and then he ducked right back out. He had no desire to see some poor soul try and figure out an alien toilet.

..........Right. Oh god, how the heck could anybody think of food in this place? It took him another moment to realize who it was who just told him that.

Iron Man just gave me some advice.

Iron Man just gave me some advice.

Ok, so it was in the men's room.

But freaking IRON MAN just gave me advice.

His comic fanboy section of brain was so blitzed that he somehow was distracted enough to go take care of business.

After the brief and terrifying realization of somehow removing the pulsing alien suit, and he really didn't want to go in the suit even though he was getting scared enough to maybe do so. He somehow stumbled on how to take it off. Oh ok, that's not so bad, but going in the buff?

Anyway, he somehow got relief, and at least staying clean was easy once he put the suit back on, and stepped out.

"...I feel a little violated somehow." And part of him almost liked it. *Almost* being the key word here.

Well, it wasn't like he recognized the guy. Plenty of people didn't seem to know him, here. In a way, that might have been a good thing. Considering Kate's rather open hostility to him, there could have been someone lurking in that crowd who was a real enemy. Someone who wanted him dead, not just held hostage.

Someone he hadn't even met yet.

"Well, you know, stuff that's meant to go in, not out.." Everything was alive. Everything. It was sick, to sum it up in a single word.

He found himself staring out at the hub. Fingers went to his temples, then, both hands lifting as he massaged those spots, wishing he could reach inside to his damnable brain and yank out the oncoming headache.

Xander nodded, "Uh yeah, got a system so I know." He had an idea about the headaches but wasn't going to ask.

"Think we gotta yell for Stacy to needle you with aspirin?"

"Yes. No. It's probably classified." The chemicals probably weren't aspirin. Possibly something stronger, or something unknown. The latter was more likely. It wasn't like he had a good bead on what was going on here.

"Don't give her any ideas. She seems real stabby with those.. things." Tony had dropped his hands to make a vague gesture towards the ship's interior.

Xander nodded, "Yeah, I noticed. I like sleep as much as the next guy but I like the no-stabby before bed version."

Tony had to wonder how many people would start sleeping too much as a means of escape. Especially when one could demand sedatives whenever they liked. It would be an easy way to escape. They couldn't take dreams away from you.

.. could they?

"How do you know? Have you tried sleeping after getting jabbed by alien tentacles?" Enquiring minds wanted to know! Actually, he just wanted to hear somebody else talk. He wasn't mocking the boy, he was just trying to make conversation.

"Now, I can imagine that it's rather unpleasant. I'm not curious enough to test it. Yet. If you do, let me know the results."

Xander shook his head, "No alien ones, but demon tentacles, yeah a few times. But they're usually just heavy and not that stabby either."

He then added, "Oh no, I don't need any sedatives. Especially if it'd miss up the late night funtime show that my dreams are sometimes. Probably got an appointment for some quality time with beautiful ladies and I'd hate to miss it."

"Demons." Tony repeated the word without inflection. "Well, that's a can of worms best unopened." Aliens were bad enough. It really seemed all beasts that went bump in the night were real. At least for some poor suckers out there.

The kid had gone on to talking about dreams, then. "I prefer reality. Usually." Though this particular reality was proving to be.. not good. One eyebrow went up, then, quizzically.

"Anywhere but here, I guess." It was probably a good idea to start backing away now.

Xander's face became more grim as he nodded, "Yeah, that little slide show Stacy was showing before? That's my life. And my friends' lives. So don't blame us if playing 'anywhere but here's' a nice break from *our* reality."

"That's sad, kid." Foot, meet mouth. Maybe. This guy didn't seem the type to get easily offended. That might be a good thing. "I almost wish I shared that sentiment." Nope, not him. Tony was used to a more cushioned existance than this.

It wasn't as though he weren't a powerful man to have on your side, just, well, he had better ideas of downtime than this.

"You'll change your mind once you see the food. I wonder if the Sensorium can trick you into thinking you're eating Italian."

Xander's life was anything but cushioned. Feuding working class level parents where take out night was high cuisine days when he got to eat. Good thing he hung out at Willow and Jesse's houses as a kid so much instead.

And laid back some just because you have to be after dealing with so much at a young age.

"Oh so it'll just be like a typical day back in high school lunchtime, no big there. If you can survive the mystery meat, and keep from getting poisoned by the split pea, you can handle anything."

"Did the mystery meat come from a sphincter? 'Cause then I can understand the typical part." My, my. Despite Tony's banal, almost polite tone, real horror shuddered through him. Of course, he'd been priviledged. Hell, he'd about broken the grading curve, even when he was years younger than other students.

At least the guy didn't seem to be irritated with Tony's currently .. well, bitchy attitude.

"I guess the food's the least of our worries." If either of them lived long enough to get used to the food, well, they might be lucky. Who knew what the feature held?

"Anyway, I'm Tony. Glad to meet you, kid." He didn't have to lie about that, not entirely.

"No, but you'd think so from the smell at times? Uh, good thing for snack food." Total opposites then since Xander and school were kind of uh... well, he did work hard for his D's?

And he sort of knew, and dealt with people with attitudes before.

Xander did stop himself from saying that he knew already, and just grinned as he offered his hand. Hey, he's a fanboy, but he can be cool and subtle about it.

"Me too. I'm Xander."

"Maybe we can lift a vending machine from somewhere. I'll have to make sure there's a place to plug it in." Dark eyes were suddenly hopeful at the prospect. Sure, he didn't want to eat Baby Ruths for the rest of his existence, and he'd probably come down with scurvy or something, but it was better than the alternative.

Did he really, really want to shake the hand of a guy who'd just been in the extra-terrestrial shithouse? "This place is going to turn me into Howard Hughes or something." A murmur, almost to himself, but he took the kid's hand, shook it in a quick, business-like fashion. "Well, Xander is a step up from 'hey, you.'" That guy's grin, though. "Does my reputation precede me? I've already gotten one lecture today." Though it didn't matter, negative or positive, he did enjoy talking about himself..

"So you're a demon-crushing person, or some such?" Anybody who wouldn't start screaming until something important ruptured.. well, they'd need to work together on this. Tony could believe that much.

"Hey, just find a portable generator somewhere too, and we'd be all set." Xander's face had lit up at the prospect. Since he was already missing HoHo’s and potato chips before the idea came up.

He nodded, “Yeah, it’s like what the ship said, let’s just say you are very famous especially with certain people.” Read: comic book fanboys. (Since Xander came in before the movie had premiered back home.)

Off the demon crushing comment he replied, “Yeah, demons, vampires, namely if it’s something weird and nasty causing a lot of problems, we deal with it.”

"Well, yeah, have to run it with something." Tony hadn't quite hit the 'jonesing' stage when it came to junk food, not just yet. Personal experience told him that he would in the next three days or so. Unless something presented itself to distract him, or course. Once he started working, then he tended to forget minor details. Like eating.

Famous? Do tell! He just seemed pleased to hear that, a vague little smile managing to creep across his features. "Well, as long as we don't pick up any more girls that want to kill me, then that's just fine." It wasn't as though he were the shy type.

Demons. Vampires. "Well, that's a good thing. I guess. If we run across blood-drinking beasts from outer space, anyway." The guy might come in handy. Of course, it seemed like everyone here had a special talent or two.

He was about to ask who would, since he's Iron Man, but then thought better of it.

"Hey, I can handle alien beasties too, no problem. I'm an equal opportunity guy when it comes to beasties to take care of."

For a few moments, there, Tony had an uncharitable thought- was this guy pulling his leg? Yes, they were in an odd situation, and they all came from weird chunks of alternate universes, but who stood there and pretty much proclaimed that all these things were no sweat?

"Promise? Because, you know, I've never seen an alien. Unless you count the ship, so I've seen one now, but.." Let alone vampires and the rest of that shit!

Was Tony actually feeling nervous? If this wouldnt do it, then what would?

"I'm glad somebody feels sure of themselves." A grumble, but it wasn't really a dig at Xander. Perhaps one aimed more at himself.

"Well can't promise until we see it, there might be screaming in terror before the smashing and stabbing happens. Usually how it goes for my team." More along the lines of act confident in lieu of screaming (manly bellowing) in terror, and then fight anyway.

Alright. The image was funny, finally, and Tony had burst out laughing. "That's a good policy, I think. Scream, then bash it until it stops moving." It seemed to work well enough. This guy was still alive, right?

Right?

Cool he made Iron Man laugh! And then he tried to get his brain to shut up with the gleeing fanboy comments.

"Or stake it so it goes poof, or whatever works. Just how it is."

Still alive, just missing one eye. His own sacrifice to the fight, along with more personal ones.

Well, the missing eye, sure. It was still surprising to Tony that the boy didn't end up as vampire-chow. Well, not entirely. It was like a kid pretending to be a pirate, the eyepatch barely seeming to fit with the mannerisms and appearance. The laid-back attitude and everything combined almost didn't fit.

So thought the billionare playboy superhero. Right. Best to not jump to any conclusions.

"I'm used to fighting with people, you know? You strip down the technology and the weapons, and they're just as mortal as anybody." There was a disconcerting lack of techology here for him to butcher, too. Most of it seemed, well, necessary.

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When you gotta go, you gotta... GO?!??

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