[ To say that the arrival is disorienting would be putting it mildly. Tony, in his heart of hearts, wants desperately to find this straight-out-of-Star-Trek teleporter technology as incredible as it is, but it's impossible to enjoy the experience when it's so much of your worst nightmares.

He sits heavily once both feet are planted on solid, unmoving ground, and rubs irritably at his temple. ]

Jesus. [ He offers the barren (if scenic) surroundings a long glance. ] That sucked, and so does this.


[ Shortly after the initial traveler's fatigue has warn off, you can find him poking his head into various abandoned structures or parking himself on a tree stump, taking apart the flashlight that had been given in every starter pack. He strips it down to its bare components, pockets them, and doesn't hesitate to make eye contact with anyone nearby who may stop to see what the hell he's up to. ]

I'm accepting donations, if you're not using yours.

[ By the time the crowd has made its way to Voss's gathering, Tony finds the situation much easier to grapple with. As he moves through the crowd, he's never without some beverage in his hand (and he somehow manages to make that beverage look fancy, no matter what it is, even if it's been pulled out of a lukewarm cooler in the woods) and he doesn't hesitate to strike up conversation with everyone and anyone. ]

Not bad for a party in the woods, right? [ He gestures with his drink at the assembled merriment. ] Quaint, y'know, like cub scouts. Except we're not getting badges for it and they gave us a rations kit like this is gonna turn into Survivor at any minute.

[ He takes a looong sip from his drink. ]

But, aside from that. Quaint.

[ Tony isn't entirely impressed by the pageantry of the cities' residents - which may just be him being difficult for the sake of it, but if asked, he'll be sure to lay out all the reasons getting dropkicked onto a primeival hostile planet is, in a word, bullshit. Still - he pays attention, at least well enough to know Olympia is the clear choice if he hopes to maintain his own sanity. Business, technology, a proper city; it's a long way from perfect, or even preferable, but it's the clearcut winner nonetheless.

And so it is that he's on his way to the white and gold city, not at all shy about flagging down anyone who may be going in the same direction. ]

You're going this way? [ He doesn't wait for an answer. ] Neat, me too. Let's speculate about what dire fate awaits us at the end of the yellow brick road.

[ hit me with anything!! ]