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Date: 2018-01-08 03:04 am (UTC)"They're celebrating murder," he mutters, but he leaves it at that. There are arguments worth having, and this isn't one. He might not have to hold back because of fear of Hulk, but picking his battles carefully is a habit too ingrained to shed easily if he even wanted to shed it.
He shakes it off and shakes his head, picking a direction that their earlier quest for alien pizza had made at least somewhat familiar. "I want something... I don't know. I want to eat something that looks like it was made for the old 70s Star Trek with weird geometric shapes and bright, unnatural colors." And hope that neither of them takes some alien virus or parasite home with them - Tony more likely, considering Bruce's inhospitable personal environment.
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Date: 2018-01-08 07:10 pm (UTC)It’s much better to talk about Star Trek and replicators and various brightly colored blogs of mush. Tony grins. He’s got crow’s feet but it doesn’t diminish how handsome he is.
Right now, all Tony wants is to never ever play host to another alien life form again. But he also wants to see if his strict regemen of bathing in anti bacterial soaps and sanitizer and eating anti oxidants will let him enjoy some more crazy space things.
Out comes the credit stick.
“Let’s drain this thing with as much take out as we can carry—. Oooh! That looks like blueberries.” None of the stuff at the stall he’s spotted is actual fruit at all, but these people certainly like their drugs and are more than willing to sell them anything they have the credits for.
And that includes something akin to a full course meal candy from Willy Wonka’s factory complete with some alcohol and a little chaser of feel good medication for dessert.
It’s a good think that Bruce is sort of a medical doctor.
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Date: 2018-01-08 09:49 pm (UTC)The big problem with this planet's enjoyment of drugs in all their varied delivery methods is that they don't tell unsuspecting humans to expect effects above and beyond just getting a full belly. So Bruce? Who ate one bright green pyramid and enjoyed a meal that only cut into the calorie deficit of a Hulk transition? Eats a red and green polka-dotted cube as a follow-up and turns a 180 to start following a faceless woman - literally no face - solely because he wants to ask her how she breathes.
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Date: 2018-01-08 10:12 pm (UTC)But Bruce is gone off, being stupidly selfish, and when Tony looks around again, he’s by himself in the middle of s lot of really weird strangers that look at him as if he’s nothing.
He can work with this, he decides and because he can’t help himself, manages to wander off too. He’s gone no where near anyone as nefarious as a faceless woman, but he does manage to get the remains of his credits stolen and somehow still feel reasonably good enough about himself to get swept up into a dance party.
Technically, it could have been much worse. Like someone without a face trying to eat him.
At least Bruce will get his answer before he’s digested. Faceless people are a lot like Pez dispensers.
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Date: 2018-01-08 10:46 pm (UTC)She has pity on his incoherence and directs him back toward the tower where he can stumble inside and back up to the penthouse, but not before pressing a pass into his hand and making him promise that he'll come see the show at her theater that evening.
Of course, that might not have happened at all. He won't trust his memory of the experience later, but he does come away with all limbs intact, no new tadpoles, minus one dinner cube, and with a blinking dot stuck to his palm.
And the penthouse is empty.
"Hey, FRIDAY," he spends a little time looking at himself in the suit's reflective surfaces before remembering what he had started to ask. "Where's Tony?"
He peers blearily at the map she projects for him, showing Tony's location relative to the tower and mumbles to himself before he finds a stick of metallic blue something - eyeliner? - and draws a wobbly map on his hand.
It takes him about an hour to follow that map to a Sakaaran rave, where he gives up on trying to believe his eyes and just starts yelling, "Tony!"
Some of the dancers pick up the yell, then a few more. Soon everyone's shouting "Tony!" Which doesn't really help Bruce find him.
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Date: 2018-01-08 11:14 pm (UTC)It’s been a pretty good time, really!
Luckily, and Bruce had been very lucky lately, Tony wasn’t exactly hard to find, not when he had spotted Bruce from a platform and was trying not to kill himself as he struggled to get to the other man. He lost shirt somewhere but that was all right!
The people here are much more friendly than Zero and Tiny has been.
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Date: 2018-01-09 12:45 am (UTC)There's a lot that goes in the ??? column, but just then, working his way through an alien dance party to get to Tony falls more on the pros side of things.
He goes with it when his choice is fall on Tony or just fall, but he's laughing because this whole experience transcends surreality. "What happened to your shirt?"
Because clearly, that's the important question.
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Date: 2018-01-09 03:51 am (UTC)Tony hates clubs for other reasons too. People tend not to respect your boundaries. They’re always running against you on purpose or in passing and both, when the experiment isn’t controlled, doesn’t please him in the slightest. Usually. He’s bumped into by a tall, purple squiggly line with eyes, which makes him bump into Banner, but there are worse things that could happen (and have already happened) so he just grooves on with it. It’s ridiculous. He doesn’t seem to mind.
And usually, there’s only young idiots in clubs who are as interesting as sand but he wraps an arm around Bruce’s neck, seeing as he’s the coolest guy he knows other than himself. So all in all, the rave isn’t really all that bad.
“I think you’re a Jew,” Tony shouts, a garbled version of the intended: ‘I was looking for you.’
Words really aren’t that important. Sakaar, and all of its hedonistic ways to forget that you’re in Sakaar, has made talking mostly obsolete. Kissing is better. And there’s nothing lost in transmission that way.
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Date: 2018-01-09 04:32 am (UTC)He doesn't do clubs, but crowds can be very convenient for disappearing into. He could probably do it again without much trouble only there's Tony with an arm around his neck shouting nonsense at him that he assumes probably makes perfect sense to anyone who hasn't been eating all the wrong things.
Which is how Bruce ends up kissing Tony in the middle of a rave on a planet that almost no one on Earth has heard of outside of the Asgardian contingent. They really should get back to Earth before this gets much crazier.
Instead, when he comes up for air two seconds or an hour later, he isn't sure which, he shows Tony the blinking dot on his hand and shouts, "Want to see a show?"
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Date: 2018-01-09 12:12 pm (UTC)With Bruce’s hand in his own, Tony tugs then both through a crowd that feels like wet leather and fabric streams towards the street again, the thumping and rhythmic music giving way to the quiet of the closed for the evening marketplace.
The rush of chill on bare skin makes Tony shiver involuntarily and he releases the other man so that they could both glance at the pink dot that pulsates weakly on Bruce’s palm. That pulse will speed up as they turn towards the correct direction and slow down the further away they get.
It’s exactly the game two very high middle aged geniuses might like to play.
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Date: 2018-01-10 12:59 am (UTC)"It was the lady with no face," Bruce explains now that they're out of the crowd and can carry on a conversation at a reasonable level. "Either she was telepathic or I'm forgetting a really intense game of charades."
He holds his hand out as though he's asking for money, but sadly no one puts a credit stick in his hand. Less sadly, it makes for an interesting kind of treasure hunt, with their pot of gold brightly illuminated at the end of the trek, where Bruce's palm pulses in time with the projected alien characters at the door to an establishment that has the universal archetype of a bouncer standing outside. Rhinoceros-headed people make good bouncers, but Bruce isn't about to take a guess whether that's male, female, or other.
The bouncer takes one look at the two men, the glowing dot on Bruce's hand, and the shirtless biped and grunts as they stand aside to allow them entrance. "Guests to the left, talent to the right."
[Bless you, that's exactly how I pictured that thing working.]
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Date: 2018-01-10 02:39 am (UTC)“Talent?” Bruce, this is where you tell him no. This is where you take your reverse cricket by the band and lead him to the audience section. This is where you do not let a visibly high Tony Stark wander off to try and be some sort of talent. “What kind’re you looking for?”
The rhino-headed bouncer snorts. “Not you,” he says, thankfully negating the need for Bruce to have to do anything drastic to keep Tony in line.
They are ushered off to some seats, though not very good ones. The early birds had caught the best ones up front.
Tony, unused to being slighted like this, pouts twice as hard as usual and crosses his arms like a child over his bare chest.
“These people have no idea who we are,” he complains.
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Date: 2018-01-10 09:19 am (UTC)He drops into his seat and shamelessly gawks at the other people in the audience, couples and small groups of people clustered around the venue, seated at small tables.
Scoots his chair closer to Tony, he leans in as though he's going to confide a secret. "I know who you are and we aren't eating anything else we find on this planet."
These are clearly two related thoughts.
The lights dim and the back wall of the room they're in disappears, showing the faceless woman who'd invited Bruce. "That's her!" He nudges Tony with an elbow. "The telepathic cutaneous respiration lady."
Her "voice" is clear and warm, appearing in each guest's mind, bypassing language to impart meaning rather than words.
Or maybe that's the drugs.
At any rate, what Bruce "hears" is a welcome, an invitation to enjoy, and a promise that the variety of performers will ensure that there's someone to appeal to even the most discerning tastes. If you're lucky, one of the performers will take a liking to you and ask you to join them.
"Nuh uh. I've had enough alien joining to last the rest of my life." Did he say that out loud? Really loudly? Maybe it was just in his head.
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Date: 2018-01-10 10:33 pm (UTC)“You only had sex with one,” Tony complained out loud. “One was inside of me. Now that’s violating.” They are both promptly hushed before the curtains are once again drawn (they look poured honestly, cascading down to the stage and then across it) and a small creature that looks like a woman, but very tiny and very blue and very naked begins to sing.
Sing, however, really needs to be used loosely. Tony can actually feel his eardrums throb as he presses his hands over his ears at the shrillness of the tiny-elf-lady.
He can feel his nose start to bleed just before the song ends and everyone around them can be seen wiping at their faces.
“Banner,” he grunts. “What the hell kind of date is this?”
[Best line ever. All the weirdness!]
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Date: 2018-01-11 12:34 am (UTC)He's pretty sure that the sound that craggy brown guy makes is a snigger.
The first performer makes him wish he'd brought his glasses along, right up until he's jamming his hands over his ears and grinding his teeth while he waits for her to stop.
Wiping his face results in muted panic at the sight of blood on his hand, but it fully unmutes for Tony's question. "Is this a date?"
He misses the tiny blue woman's departure and the arrival of a pair of people who bear strong resemblance to ambulatory asparagus, and who immediately start an acrobatic routine that's one part Cirque du Soleil and one part Home Depot Garden Department.
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Date: 2018-01-11 01:04 am (UTC)Luckily, Tony’s only lost his shirt and not his pants and he carries, among other things, wet naps and gloves with him. You just never know what you’re going to touch, okay?
They can contain Bruce’s blood easily enough, like a camping trip. You bring out whatever you bring in. And they can do that while Tony arches his eyebrows up at Bruce, utterly sincere.
“You asked me out, didn’t you?” Tony’s slept through better acts than this one. Sure. It’s fine, but Bruce is a thousand times better.
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Date: 2018-01-11 01:33 am (UTC)This is a commentary on the lives that they lead that they can both be half out of their heads and still remember the most important details to protect themselves and others. They aren't bad guys; they just have some serious lapses in judgment.
Incredibly serious lapses.
"In that case we've been on a date for days." The glove gets tied off and stuffed into the pocket of his appropriated pj's. "I don't remember who asked whom."
The asparagus are sprouting. Maybe. Probably. "Is this an alien cabaret? Do you think there'll be a fan dancer? An alien in a giant martini glass?"
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Date: 2018-01-11 01:44 am (UTC)Not cool, Kiara. Tony is a fine specimen!
Actually, he’s not sure that’s something he really ought to be arguing. It gets weird and dicey.
While they talk and the asparagus finish sprouting, a man with three penises plucks feathers off of his body and into the crowd. Bruce wanted a fan dance and this might be the closest thing that they can get to that. The audience seems to love it, but the shushing has brought the rhinoceros bouncer back over to them and the big mystery of when the date actually started has to be finished outside.
They’re disturbing everyone else’s good time with it.
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Date: 2018-01-11 01:55 am (UTC)Bruce meekly lets the bouncer show them out, but not without a feather for a souvenir. A feather and a flash of intense curiosity about the females of the current performer's species.
Once outside, he takes a few seconds to orient himself, which is pretty easy - walk toward the building with Hulk's enormous face sticking out of it.
"Okay, so it's a date." He looks back at the bouncer. "Was a date. Is it going okay or would this be an emergency text, 'so sorry, my dog died and I gotta go' kind of date?"
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Date: 2018-01-11 02:08 am (UTC)Tony still has some blood smeared on his upper lip, they are a little sticky from the pollen that the flowering acrobats have covered them in, but Tony is the happiest he’s been in a long while. Sakaar has been crazy and dangerous and wonderful. It’s just been so unbelievably wonderful.
So he offers Bruce his arm.
“Can I walk you back, Doctor Banner?”
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Date: 2018-01-11 02:39 am (UTC)He can get back to identity crisis about what kind of guy he is later. He's not used to being a happy guy, but this unfamiliar mood might just be that. It's been an extremely eventful whirlwind since the moment he and Tony reunited, and just then some down time sounds miraculous.
"Second date's got to be on Earth. I'm not cut out for cosmopolitan Sakaar." He waves the feather he's clutching at Tony as they start their meandering stroll back. "It's just too weird for me, and that's saying a lot. You saw that guy on stage when we left, right? That wasn't just a hallucination?"
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Date: 2018-01-11 03:02 am (UTC)It’s almost mundane. If Tony doesn’t come down off of this weird high soon, the whole thing might get almost domestic.
“Doctor Banner,” Tony says as they enter the hacked elevator a few minutes later, Sakaar slowly dropping away from them, “I just want to say that... out of all the things we’ve done that have been morally questionable, this is by far my favorite. And you can quote me on that. Now go clean up so we can make out and dry hunk like teenagers.”
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Date: 2018-01-11 03:29 am (UTC)"Why else does he need three penises?" Three very small females with one vagina each? He really didn't need his chemically-enhanced imagination taking him there.
"I'm thinking we go and I get to sleep in a bed where no one butts in and throws us off a roof. Then I'll think about Thai and mini golf." Of course that's all predicated on the idea that nothing on Earth is going to blow up, but he's keeping his worst case scenario vision turned off for a while longer.
Once they achieve their goal of getting to the elevator without making any more of a mess, he braces himself in a corner and tips his head back, looking a little drowsy until Tony gives him his marching orders. "What about you, Mr. Stark? You're covered in so much pollen we're lucky we didn't get swarmed by bees on our way back."
He snickers and shoves himself out of the corner as the elevator slows and the doors slide open. "They might make you their queen."
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Date: 2018-01-11 01:12 pm (UTC)With an exaggerated huff of exasperation, Tony follows Bruce into the ruins of the room that had been pristine before their arrival and pauses as he glimpses himself in the mirror. He takes a step back and turns to face it, pink pollen caked to his shoulders and chest thick enough for him to wipe his fingers through it to reveal the small scar where the reactor had spent years. He glances at his hands and then upwards, before he seeks FRIDAY out for a scan.
For all he knows, this is cancer inducing. Or stroke inducing. Everything on Sakaar is dangerous to touch or eat so it’s certainly an understandable worry. Of course, it’s also compounded by his standard set of neuroses, so that doesn’t help at all.
“Scan. Full body scan,” he demands of the AI in the armor but she can easily reassure him that the protein in that pollen is actually a moisturizing compound and might be fairly good for his skin.
And that doesn’t help matters at all.
Tony is getting first dibs on the shower.
“The pollen is jizz. We were jizzed on, Banner,” he says while rushing through the hall around the other scientist.
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Date: 2018-01-11 02:53 pm (UTC)He skips Tony's need for a scan and is already mid-meander toward the bathroom when Tony decides to jump the queue, an outrage that Bruce responds to with raised eyebrows and a vague, discontented wave of his hands before remembering one thing. There's more than room enough for two. Everything in the Grandmaster's quarters seems to be on orgy scale.
"Good thing we left before that last guy finished his act." Should he be restraining a laugh at Tony's reaction? No, definitely not. Please forgive that soft laugh at Tony's expense. Yes, he's covered in jizz pollen, too, and it isn't something he'll be signing on for again, but it's too late to freak out now.
He strips and tosses his stolen clothes in a pile in a corner, giving zero thought to nudity at this point. He's not as high as he was down in the dance party, nor is he under the influence of alien hot tub vibrations; he's just not going to start playing modest after everything that's gone down with them recently.
"Make room and I'll make sure your back's thoroughly depollinated."
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