open horizon post.

[privatizes]

the primary location of tony's domain is the stark eco compound, where he hid his family post-snap. it is a secluded cabin in the woods, surrounded by trees, tranquility, and calm. there is a lake in front, along with a few stray farm animals.

this is home.

you will not find people, though. and if you explore the cabin, you will find that some rooms are boarded up. you can't access them, and there is a powerful, deep seated grief associated with a few doors. one of them has a sign with a small child's handwritten, sloppily hung on the front. it reads 'morgan' but the door is unable to be opened, hammered shut with boards.

time is needed.

despite it being a secluded area, there are signs that a very not-normal life takes place, here. tucked away in the shadows are signs of extraordinarily advanced equipment, half-finished projects in corners. but overall, it's a calm, serene place, with a kitchen, a few bedrooms, and a greenhouse out back.

difficulty letting go.

and in the basement, you will find tony's lab. it's exceptionally advanced, with a functioning a.i. system (F.R.I.D.A.Y.) that will get you whatever you need, within reason. there are a number of functioning nanotech-powered suits in the corner, ready to be activated with the touch of a hand.

order yourself a coke.

Comments

[unwings]

[ while the rest of the world sleeps, castiel settles on his bunk in the barracks, meditating into horizon. it's a compromise for dean's demand that cas not watch over him as he sleeps. he may be hovering directly above him, with dean on the bottom bunk, but there's no watching involved, so he's not breaking any rules, right? sure.

tonight, he wanders the remote tranquility of tony's domain. he passes through the greenhouse, glances over the half-finished projects, and pauses to pet a stray goat. with no sign of life, and the expectation that any human Summoned are getting their standard 8 hours of REM cycle rather than occupying the Horizon, Castiel enters the cabin, careful not to disturb anything.

he paces through quietly, observing like a patron in an art gallery, and does his best to keep his hands to himself, instead of picking up every other item for inspection, as he usually would in the physical world. here, he'd rather pass through like a ghost, no evidence of him left behind.

the advanced technology is intriguing, but ultimately, not what most seizes cas's attention. it's the grief, a palpable sensation that reaches into his gut and twists in a stingingly familiar way. he follows it, through the home, up to the boarded up door.

morgan, the sign reads, and this time cas can't help himself. fingertips touch gingerly to the uneven lines of children's handwriting, tracing over it, as if it'll paint a picture of the memory that clings to it. that's likely where tony finds him, settled into a soft, contemplative sorrow. ]

[privatizes]

[ tony feels the intrusion while he's in his lab downstairs. it's an odd tugging in the back of his mind, that someone has arrived within his domain. meditation is still a work in progress, for him, but now that he's gotten the hang out of it? hanging out here is almost . . . soothing.

until he hears something enter it.

he pushes himself up to move upstairs, and in no time at all, he finds himself at the landing of the stairs. to see castiel touching the door, and the cabin seems to lurch -- the emotion changing from an overwhelming grief to something of an annoyance. ]

Hey, quick question, what the hell are you doing in my house?

[ he calls up the stairs, tone carefully kept, but clearly not. happy?? and tony is quick to add: ]

And get away from my kid's door before I knock your teeth out.

[unwings]

The door was unlocked.

[ cas answers mildly, as if that's reason enough to go wandering into people's dreamscape homes. he casts a short glance back to the domain's owner, but his focus returns quickly to the door.

though he does obediently take his hand from the door, cas doesn't really back up from it, eyes still combing over the details - the sign, the boards hammered over to keep it shut. strange, he'd assume a child's room would be something for a parent to frequently treasure, but this man's blocked it off completely. unclear if it's a personal measure to avoid painful memory, or a recreation of a practical reality and necessity.

if cas had the more moderate social grace he'll acquire years from now, this might've been a more sensitive approach, but that's not the case here. ]

Does your child need containment? [ a genuinely curious question, nothing more meant by it than castiel's confusion and interest in making sense of tony's world. finally, he turns from the door to look down the stairs at tony himself. ] Why is it sealed?

[privatizes]

[ all of these questions are . . . well, good questions, which only serve to annoy tony more. he's still learning the intricacies of the horizon, what can be done and what can't be. and when this place first forged into existence, his mind had balked at morgan's room. something painful and grief-ridden, unable to look at it without the crushing sensation of what he's lost. or wondering what she's doing right now. or wondering what she will look like when she grows up.

so it was boarded up. it sort of happened without tony even realizing it, his mind constructing a visual representation of protection. but saying that out loud to a stranger is, well. stupid. so, instead, tony responds, blithely: ]

Have you met a four year old? Of course they need containment. My nanny put me on a leash.

[ probably. ]

Morgan is a werewolf, though. So. [ with the tone of something obvious, but fleeting. the well-practiced mask of someone who doesn't really particularly want to talk about something, but can bullshit his way through it to the next topic. ] Sort of best for all involved if she's locked away like Rapunzel - anyway, back to why you're in my house.

[ tony takes a step backwards, off the landing. almost inviting castiel to come back down the stairs. maybe. ]

Do you just go into houses with unlocked doors often, or what? You don't knock where you come from?

[unwings]

[ not as obvious and fleeting as one might've hoped, it seems, because castiel's a picture of gut-punched sorrow, missing the humor entirely, now feeling for this poor father who's small child stolen from him by some cruel creature. ]

Turned at such a young age. How tragic. [ it's heartfelt, while entirely off-base, but castiel's nothing if not sincere. ] My sympathies, the predicament must be devastating.

[ he's assuming this was a turning and not a born-werewolf, though tony's assertion that he'd been leashed as a child does make him wonder. the man doesn't smell like a werewolf, but this is the horizon - perhaps it's lost in translation from reality.

empathizing with the man is apparently enough for cas to grow some manners and follow the unspoken invitation to descend the stairs, leaving the child's room behind. ]

I usually bypass the door entirely. [ house calls and friendly visits aren't really in his wheelhouse, ever. cas jumps topic, without preamble, thoughts on what he'd observed before entering the house. ] You're a mechanic?