#next up on my wish list was Rhodey but I’ll probably get him around armor wars times

[ironhusband]

I got an angel.

#the name of the pop was Captain America and it made me :) #sam wilson #ramble rumble #next up on my wish list was Rhodey but I’ll probably get him around armor wars times

[thelastarchangelaskblog]

Impersonal vs. Personal Stabbing

This RP takes place after we picked up Clint (read: rescued him from goblins almost stark naked), and features some bantering between Tony and Clint.

Tony & Zira’s Chat                                              Charcoal as Breakfast

Tony & Rhodey’s Chat                                       Tony & Luna

Tony & Rhodey Compile a List

The Trouble with Two Tonys

Rhodey & Bob(Tony)

Rhodey & Zira (and Tony)

DJ & Zira

DJ & Tony

Rhodey & DJ

**

(Read more.)

They've gotten the brush off the wagon by now. It's quite frankly a miracle no one actually found it because in retrospect their work at hiding it wasn't very good.

Tony looks over at Clint, their newest acquisition.

Tony: So...what got you into working the bodyguard business?

Clint: Not a lot of other options as far as job goes. People are pretty eager for sellswords and the like these days. Which reminds me, you didn't see armor or a bow or a pair of swords anywhere, did you? I didn't see what they did with my stuff.

Tony: Yeah, I was about to say that you didn't seem much like a sword person. You look more like a bow and arrow guy. And, uh, no. We were kind of busy getting you out so you didn't bleed to death inside the cave.

Clint: Yeah, that's fair

Clint (quietly): Damn it.

Tony: We could...go back and get it? How stealthy are you? I mean, other option is to steal Rhodey's shortbow, since I'm sure he has one somewhere.

Clint: I'm not sure I'm that desperate. But if you could loan me something, I'd appreciate it. I don't exactly have the money to buy anything new

Tony: Fair; I wasn't sure if I wanted to brave the cave with just the two of us. And DJ. Though I'm not sure if I would've let DJ go anywhere... (He looks pained.)

Clint: Which one's DJ?

Tony: The halfling. Don't call him short unless you want him to get mad at you.

Clint: Noted. I know a lady like that. Though for her it's less “mad” and more “paycheck docked for the next six weeks.”

Tony: Ooh, that sounds rough. But I'm guessing no paycheck at all now?

Clint: She's subtle but damn does she know how to hit where it hurts. Ha, hopefully I'm still getting paid for this. (There's the briefest pause before he continues.) Just gotta track Ryss down first and hope he's still alive.

Tony: I think we're all in the same boat there, since he hired our entire group as well. She sounds like my kind of gal. Any chance she's your contact in Briarbane?

Clint: Nah, my contact's a dude. Wizard by the name of Iarno. I heard last time I saw him that he was going to be heading down this way.

Tony: Huh. Never heard of him.

Clint: Haven't had the chance to check up on him, though. It's hard to send letters on the road, and he's not big on sharing magic items.

Tony: Let's hope he's there. If he's not, we'll need to come up with a backup plan.

Clint: No kidding. With the state of this place, he might've been picked off by the goblins, too.

Tony: (grins) Like you were?

Clint: Ha, ha. It's seriously a shame, though, that bandits are everywhere these days. I used to love to travel. Don't really have the time or money for it anymore. Unless it comes with the job, anyway.

Tony: You can't travel on your lonesome?

Clint: You saw what happened when I brought just one friend. It doesn't get better with just me and Lucky to fend for ourselves.

Tony: True enough. Though DJ and I did just fine for about a year until Rhodey met up with us.

Clint: Must have somebody upstairs looking out for your health.

Tony: ...ha, maybe.

Tony looks considering.

Tony: ...or maybe not. Not sure about that.

Clint: You an atheist?

Tony: Sometimes I wish I were. Would make things easier for sure.

Clint: Guess I shouldn't have asked. Sounds like it's complicated.

Tony: Buddy, you have no idea. Anyway, if anyone up there is looking out for me, they better be looking out for you, too. Doesn't seem fair otherwise

Clint: To be honest, I'm not exactly a religious man myself. You know, it's fun when the holidays roll around and everything - used to be how I ate half the time when I was a kid. But thanks for the sentiment.

Tony: Oh man, those holidays. The holidays are wild.

Clint: I know. You ever been up to Vasselheim for Esteri, or the Godsbrawl? The stories I've heard.

Tony: They definitely get pretty wild from what I've heard.

Clint: (laughing a little) They say the lords and ladies of the Quadroads make and break their fortunes, betting on fighters at the Brawl every year.

Tony: I bet they do. Those kinds of folks always like a good bet. Honestly, I've only seen a few holidays in person. My family wasn't necessarily the best with that stuff.

Clint: ...you have no idea what the Quadroads is, do you?

Tony: ...I totally do.

Clint gives you a patented Skeptical™ look.

Tony (entirely unconvincingly): It's...four roads. A crossroads. You make deals with demons.

Clint busts out laughing.

Clint: It's the Erathis district in Vasselheim. I dunno about demons, unless you count all the jarls, but I guess it's at the crossroads. Never been myself. Too cold up there.

Tony: No, I've never been up there. We've been hanging around the south mostly. Didn't you hear? Bury a box at the center of the crossroads and a demon might show up. And you can deal with them.

Clint: Hear what? And let me say, it pained me to bite back a joke. Ah. Yeah, I tend to end up fighting the kind of people who do stuff like that. I'm eighty percent sure that might carry the death penalty in Vasselheim. Home of the country's biggest religious icons and all.

Tony: You can't hear that well, can you?

Clint: What gave it away, the -? (He snaps next to his ear again.)

Tony: Yeah, that was partly it. And I know my magical items. There was also you wanting to bite back a joke. Not a lot of things to joke about except if you can't hear well.

Clint: Give the man a prize. Yeah, I lost my hearing in an accident a while back. Lucky for me that- (he checks himself) -that ISL is pretty easy to pick up. A friend of mine got me into the habit of making jokes about it.

Tony: If you can't joke about it you'll probably just end up crying about it.

Clint: I'll drink to that.

Tony: Or both sometimes.

Clint:...once we get to Briarbane.

Tony: I'll buy you one. Since apparently you don't have any money. And I don't want you stooping to making deals with crossroad demons. (He grins.)

Clint: Oh, I like you already. What's your deal, then? How's a guy like you end up in Helikon, taking deals from frankly kinda sketchy dwarves?

Tony: Honestly I have absolutely no idea. Other than apparently everyone else wanted a job?

Clint laughs.

Tony: I can't leave DJ alone; that'd be sad. And Rhodey's my best bud; can't leave him behind either.

Clint: So you're the yes-man? You don't strike me as the type.

Tony: I am the opposite of a yes-man. But I can't let my friends be getting in trouble without me.

Clint:...Alright, point taken. I've been there.

Tony: So here I am, taking deals from sketchy dwarves and talking with half-elven bodyguards who can't guard. 

Clint: Hey, I take offense to that. I did fine all the way from Myrdinian; it's not my fault the area got ten times more dangerous since the last time I was here.

Tony: Yeah, honestly, those goblins would have been an issue for two people by themselves. But you make poking fun at you easy. (He smirks.)

Clint pointedly rolls his eyes.

Clint:...I hope Ryss is doing alright, though. Guy's more of a miner than a fighter. You'd think the skillsets would overlap, but apparently not that much.

Tony: Hence the bodyguards?

Clint: Ha, if he'd gone for bodyguards, plural, I would've had my usual partner with me and this definitely wouldn't have happened.

Tony: ...are you saying he's a cheapskate?

Clint: But he was only interested in the one. His mine's not operating yet. I think he's more interested in putting his money in it than in his personal safety. Plus my partner doesn't....look the part. I do. Some people make assumptions.

Tony: ...I'm now picturing something very small and fluffy or very tiny and around DJ's size.

Clint: Ha! No. She likes to look unassuming, but she's on the tall side, all things considered.

Tony looks back to where Zira is helping some of the others.

Tony: As tall as her?

Clint: Definitely not. Whatever your friend is, I think her species runs on the tall side as a whole.

Tony: Ehhh, depends, really. So...tall as Rhodey?

Clint: Average for a human, but 'all things considered' includes halflings and gnomes.:...Can I ask what she is? You talk like you know. (He nods at Zira.) Don't want to offend on accident.

Tony: I have my guesses, but she hasn't actually said anything so I'm keeping quiet on that. So...is DJ going to be put out?

Clint: That's a valuable trait in a friend. I make a point to never guess how people will react to her. I'm always wrong.

Tony: That...is probably something I should pick up. But I'm putting my money on a gnome who's really tall and is going to make DJ pout

Clint: If I knew where to find her, I'd do my best to introduce you just to see how your guess holds up.

Tony: Then let me just say I'm looking forward to it. Especially since I have the sneaking feeling that while you don't know where she is, she knows where you are.

Clint: That wouldn't surprise me. (He looks over his shoulder, and then looks a little embarrassed when it's just forest.)

Tony: Don't worry; if someone sneaks up on you I'll let you know.

Clint: You must be familiar with how bodyguards work.

Tony: They guard bodies. Generally easy to figure out.

Clint: No, I mean, that was a pretty good guess.

Tony: ...she's your bodyguard? A bodyguard has a bodyguard?

Clint: No, like I said, she's my partner in the business. (He looks at Tony with interest). Must just be good instincts.

Tony: Ah, well... I figured...you sound like you're close. She also sounds like she's pretty crafty. And if you were hired and she wasn't... Let me just say that if it was my friend, I'd be keeping tabs on them.

Clint: I figure she found work with someone else. I guess she coulda wrangled her way into coming down this way, too, if she managed to figure out where I was going.

Tony: Entirely possible, and yet she might show up in Briarbane and give you the fright of your life from a trash can.

Clint: If she did I'm gonna give her a piece of my mind, because I coulda used a hand back with the goblins. No offense to you, but you took a while to catch up.

Tony: Oh yeah; we had a goblin on a baby leash. Took a bit with that.

Clint: Huh?

Tony: And then there's, y'know, the halfling and bird thing. They can't walk as fast. Yeah, goblin on a baby leash. She led us to the cave.

Tony mimes what he's talking about.

Clint:...huh. I guess those goblins really didn't like their boss.

Tony: Yeah, which was partly the reason why we ganked him. The other reason was because we had to get you out of there.

Clint: I was, y'know, there for that whole conversation. I can't believe you managed to get out without that a-hole scamming the life out of you

Tony: Rhodey's very good at what he does. Which is scaring the shit out of people he doesn't like. It also helps to have someone as tall as Zira backing you up

Clint: I'd say it was more than a little your alligator-toothed mystery friend, yeah.

Tony: She's a sweetheart. But definitely looks terrifying to those who don't expect it.

Clint: Suuure.

Tony (smiles): You can trust me. Would I lie about Zira? :)

Clint:...Well, I don't know you that well yet.

Tony: Definitely fair. But Zira's cool. She just uses what she has to great effect. And no one expects someone who's almost seven feet tall to intimidate you into giving up your hostage.

Clint: I dunno, I'd put money on intimidation coming from the one who's seven-foot-fuck-off in a second.

Tony: ...definitely fair But she looks a bit like a...twig, doesn't she? Not that intimidating unless she smiles at you.

Clint looks up at Zira

Clint: ...you make a fair point.

Tony: Also she likes chocolate.

Clint: Who doesn't?

Tony (snaps fingers): That's what I'd like to know!

Somewhere several guards in several towns wince at the sound of snapping fingers.

Distantly...they know.

Clint: So you guys are chocolate-loving, incredibly efficient sellswords...anything else I should know?

Tony: Well, the chocolate-loving doesn't apply to everyone. DJ's not very partial to them as far as I can tell. My bribes certainly haven't worked on him. I suppose I should tell you so that you're forewarned about Bob. He goes by a different name every day.

Clint: Which one's Bob

Tony: The bird. He'll be the one to speak into your mind, so no hearing required.

Clint: That's....weird. How's that work?

Tony: I have no idea and I'd love to find out but Bob doesn't seem to have any idea how his stuff works either. ...psionic wavelengths? He's psychic? He sure does like his mind spells.

Clint:...

Tony: Yeah, just fair warning. He doesn't seem to mind doing it on us. You might be okay provided you don't piss him off much or annoy him. I think he's going by Tim today, but I just call him Bob. So that's Bob - or Tim, I guess. (shrugs) Luna is...I don't know her that well. She's interesting, though. Definitely blends into trees better than anyone I've ever seen. She actually became a tree.

Clint: Are you fucking with me, or did she actually shapeshift? 'Cuz that would be neat.

Tony: I have no idea but she's a druid, I think. ...Actually, I don't think there was any shape-shifting involved, but I was a little busy trying not to get stabbed by arrows.

Clint: Do arrows count as being stabbed? Being stabbed is a much more personal experience.

Tony: They were sharp and piercy and jabby and one got me through the armor. I call it being stabbed from an impersonal distance

Clint: It's about the personal touch, though.

Tony: Besides, I could totally stab you with an arrow right now and it'd be stabbing

Clint: Hold on. Were you being shot at, or was someone using an arrow as a makeshift dagger?: Those are two different things.

Tony: Shot at. The brambles made it a bit difficult to get up close and personal. I was stabbed from a distance. It counts

Clint: Nope. Not stabbing. That's just regular old being shot at.

Tony: It totally counts because they had a personal vengeance against us! They were sharp and pointy. That nets you a stab!

Clint: Just because something pointy hits you, doesn't make it a stab. Do you call falling into a thorn bush a stabbing?

Tony: No, because that would be my own fault and the thorn bush is innocent.

Clint: Who brought fault into this? If I stab someone because he was being a dick, that's not less of a stabbing than if I stabbed him for funsies.

Tony: But it's personal, isn't it?

Clint: Not if it's the second one. Less so, at least

Tony: If you stabbed him for funsies I'd assume you still had a reason for it.

Clint: My point is fault has nothing to do with this.

Tony: Otherwise it's just friendly poking.

Clint: Friendly poking--

Clint: Have you ever been stabbed, in your life

Tony: Oh yeah. Loads of times. Just now, in fact, by those goblins.

Clint: When you say that, do you mean actually stabbed or shot

Tony: Stabbed, of course. Sharp and pointy things were involved and they stabbed me.

Clint narrows his eyes at Tony.

Tony just grins back.

Tony: I mean, it's not a stabbing unless it's personal, right? That's what you were saying, wasn't it? Otherwise it's just poking.

Clint: Stabbing is personal because it's done up close. You've got it backwards

Tony: I don't think I do. I mean, it's personal regardless of distance. And if you get shot at then it normally involves something really small and round that makes you hurt a lot. Arrows are not small and round unless I've been looking in the wrong field.

Clint: What the hell do you think getting shot at is?

Tony: You know... (He mimes with two hands cocking something and then jerking his hands up.) Shot at?

Clint: Ohhh. You're Marquetian. I get it now.

Tony: ...no.

Clint: You know guns aren't really a thing this side of the ocean, right? Some lordship in Tal'dorei has a monopoly on it, and they've got connections in Vasselheim.

Tony: That would explain why I haven't seen any guns around here. You're also the first person to know what I was talking about. Congratulations. Candy? (He offers something sour.)

Clint: Nah, I'm thirsty enough already. Whereabouts in Marquet, out of curiosity? Ank'harel, or outside the desert?

Tony: It was desert-like, so... (shrugs) Though there were trees, too? And some mountains. Also an ocean. Just a lot of things in general.

Clint: Alright, I get it. You don't have to say.

Tony: You from Marquet, too? Seeing as how you actually know about guns?

Clint: Nah, you just hear stuff in this business. I was up north roundabouts fifteen years ago, you know - not in the city, but you hear stuff. I think one of the people who fought in the Siege was connected to that Tal'dorei lordship and had a gun from there? Sorry, the Siege of Vasselheim. It was a big deal. You probably don't know.

Tony: No, I do. (glances at Rhodey) It was a big thing.

Clint: Yeah. Makes me glad I never made up my mind to go to Vasselheim.

Tony: Why do you think I've never been up there? There's too much going on. That, and it's really far up north.

Clint: I hear they've still got some things lingering around from the Siege. Monsters and the like.

Tony: Yeah, that's what I've heard, too. Those kinds of rumors make their way down here all the time. You said something about a lordship? It's been a while since I was down there.

Clint: Oh, yeah. Some place on northern Tal'dorei, I think over on the side closer to Wildemount.  You've been to Tal'dorei?

Tony: Not Tal’dorei, but the south coast? So close enough. You get more news there about what’s going on.

Clint: Like near Kol'arn, or southern Tal'dorei?

Tony: South Tal'dorei, but like I said, that was a long time ago.

Clint: Fair enough. I only ask 'cuz I'm a fan of travel stories. Never been outside the country myself, so...

Tony: I've got quite a few of those but most of those just involve me seeing the inside of a caravan...

Clint: Sorta like right now, huh?

Tony: It's nicer, actually. Less people for one. It also stinks less.

Clint: Wait, let me guess - donkey carts? Crowded passenger ships?

Tony: Yep and yep. You want to hop large bodies of water and you don't have the funds, that's what you're stuck with.

Clint: At least you made it.

Tony: Tell me about it. Sure, the traveling bit's nice, but it's always nicer with friends.

Clint: Tell me about it.

He kinda leans back among the various supplies in the wagon and shifts to make himself comfortable, and says, "I'm gonna take a nap. Wake me up when we hit Briarbane."

Tony: You do you. I'll, er, keep DJ out of the area.

Clint: 'Preciate it.

He appears to fall asleep pretty fast.

#d&d campaign #the-grey-hunt

[imjustthemechanic]

Our Own Demons

Part 1/? - A Bolt from the Blue Part 2/? - A Different World Part 3/? - Stark At Home Part 4/? - Pot Roast Night Part 5/? - Space-Pie Continuum Part 6/? - Energy Signature Part 7/? - Miss Potts Part 8/? - Bot from Beyond Part 9/? - Even the Odds Part 10/? - Miss Potts Arrives Part 11/? - Truth Hurts Part 12/? - The Third Reality Part 13/? - Thor and Odinson Part 14/? - The Tesseract Platform Part 15/? - Prime Suspect Part 16/? - Jailbreak

What if Tony Stark really were the villain of the Marvel universe?  How would that work?  Tony himself is about to find out, as he battles his inner demons (and some outer ones, too) across a multiverse of infinite possibilities.

Tony sat up straight across from the female cop and folded his arms across his chest, determined not to let her intimidate him. “If that was Sid,” he said, “are you Nancy?”  He immediately thought he should have said Marty instead… Marty would have been funnier, but too late now.

“I’m Officer Zsivoczky,” she said.

“‘Nancy’ it is.”  Tony sighed heavily.  “Look, I know you guys think I killed Pepper.”  It was a struggle even to say that.  “I didn’t. I wasn’t here.  The guy people saw was not me.  He was from another world.”  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the lawyer twitch, and added, “I know how it sounds, but seeing as New York City was half-flattened by aliens a couple of years back, I’m sure you can suspend a little disbelief for this.”

Nancy was not interested.  “Where’s her body, Stark?” she asked.

“Not in this reality,” Tony insisted.  “The other me, the bad guy, he took her away.”  The other me.  Now he sounded like Bruce.  They were going to think he had multiple personalities or something.

Her eyebrows rose.  “You admit there’s a body, then?”

“No!”  Tony put his head in his hands.  “I can get her back, but you have to let me go.”  If he had a suit… and some of that energy from the tesseract.  SHIELD had a bunch of that in storage from their experiments with it.  He’d read about that in the files he’d downloaded.  They would have moved it now, with all their secrets out, but maybe he could figure out where to.  He and Dr. Foster had talked about the resonant frequencies they’d need.  He could find that other reality and get her.

“Where did you put her?” Nancy demanded.

“I didn’t do anything!” said Tony.

“Our client is done answering questions,” one of the lawyers announced – probably, Tony thought, because his answers were embarrassing them.  “I’m sure you are aware that Mr. Stark suffers from post-traumatic stress, and your unfounded accusations are…”

“They are hardly unfounded!” said Nancy.  “We have eyewitnesses to Mr. Stark meeting Ms. Potts at the LACMA and putting her in a car.  We have the car in question, with her hair and his blood in it.  We have him, looking like he’s had the hell beaten out of him by somebody desperate to defend herself.”  She gestured to Tony’s scraped and bruised arms.

“I’m Iron Man,” said Tony.  “I was fighting a robot.”  The words sounded hollow even to him.  They didn’t believe him.  Nobody would.

“Between the last time you were seen in New York and when you were sighted in Los Angeles there’s plenty of time for you to have made the flight in one of your suits,” Nancy told him.  “And the time since is more than enough to dispose of a body. Where is Ms. Potts?”

“Why would I have hurt her?” Tony asked desperately.

Nancy’s voice was cold.  “Only you know that.”

Tony lowered his head.  “No more questions,” he said.  “I’m done.”

With his lawyers there to enforce his wishes, the interrogation was over, but the police could – and did – book him.  He was photographed and fingerprinted and swabbed like a criminal, then put in an orange jumpsuit to be taken back to a cell.

“When’s the bail hearing?” he asked.

“The judge has decided there won’t be one,” Sid replied, holding the cell door for him.  “They couldn’t set it high enough that you wouldn’t be a flight risk.”

Of course they couldn’t.  “I want to make a phone call,” Tony said.  Since calling Pepper clearly wasn’t going to do any good, he would call Rhodey.

The police stood around and watched as Tony sat using the phone at a detective’s desk, listening to it ring.  He didn’t doubt that everything he said was going to be recorded.  It didn’t matter, because he would tell the truth.  Telling the truth at least meant you never needed to remember what you’d lied about.

“Hello?” asked Rhodey’s voice.

Tony had been holding his breath, terrified that Rhodey, too, would be mysteriously unreachable.  Now it roared in the mouthpiece as he let it out.  “Rhodey, it’s me,” he said.

“Tony?”  The surprise in his voice was audible.  “Where have you been?”

“Fighting robots in an alternate reality.  It’s a long story,” said Tony.  “Are you okay?  Is Bruce okay?  We were all on a government hit list.”

“I know,” Rhodey said.  “We’re all fine, don’t worry – except Pepper.  Nobody’s seen her in days.  I’ve been trying to tell people that if you took her away, it was to protect her.  I know you wouldn’t have it in you to hurt her.  Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted miserably.  How many times was he going to be forced to say that? Tony always preferred to give the impression that he knew everything, so having to say he didn’t know something, repeatedly, stung.  Having to say he didn’t know where Pepper was… that was ten, twenty, a hundred times worse.  “At least, I sort of know, but like I said, there’s alternate realities involved  I know how to go find her, but I have to get out of here.  These people think I killed her.”

“I know,” Rhodey repeated gravely.  “Like I said, I’ve been trying to tell them that’s not you, but you have to admit the evidence doesn’t look good.  The DA thinks nailing Iron Man for murder will be her ticket into congress.”

“Great,” said Tony.  On top of everything else, politics.  “I need help, Rhodey.  I can get to her and I can get her back, but I can’t do it alone.”

“They’re not gonna let you out of there,” Rhodey warned him. “There’s not gonna be a bail hearing for a guy who could pay the GDP of some small countries, and I can’t help you while you’re in jail for murder.”

Tony nodded.  He understood what his friend was saying, and exactly how he ought to reply. “Do me a favour.  Call the Met and tell them I won’t be at the Gala this year.”

“I’ll do that,” Rhodey replied.

With the call finished, Tony went quietly back to his cell, running his fingers along his forearms as he did.  The Metropolitan Museum of Art in Manhattan had an exhibit on arms and armor, and a few years ago Tony had donated an old suit to it.  The museum staff had no idea it was still functional – either he or Rhodey could send it a signal from a cell phone that would activate it in the event that either of them needed a suit and didn’t have access to any others.  It would seek out the transponders in Tony’s body.  All he had to do was wait.

Twenty minutes later, the female cop with the unpronounceable name stopped by to give Tony his dinner.  This appeared to be spaghetti and meatballs, although appearances could be deceiving.  “Thanks,” he said as she handed it to him.  “Say, what’s the odds that this contains any actual food?”

“It’s not drugged, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “What do you think we’re trying to do?”

“If I’m being honest, I think you’re trying to railroad me,” Tony replied.  “You must feel pretty jazzed, arresting Iron Man and all.”

Nancy met his gaze evenly.  “You’ve always been able to get away with anything, haven’t you? Well, you know what?  The richest man in the world can’t get away with murder.”

“I’m not the richest man in the world,” Tony corrected her, “but if I see him, I’ll tell him so.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “I’ve seen you on TV.  You’ve always thought you were a really funny guy, haven’t you, Stark?”

“It’s my chief coping mechanism,” Tony told her – and then he felt a sharp pinch in his right arm.  That was the transponder.  The sizzle of a mild electric shock was its way of alerting him that the suit he’d summoned was approaching.  He’d figured he’d better build in some kind of alert system after nearly embarrassing himself in front of the AIM mooks last Christmas.  “You might wanna duck,” he warned Nancy, then dropped his spaghetti and rolled under the bed.

Half a second later, the Met suit blasted the wall down.

Tony could hear Nancy yelling for backup, but he didn’t even look at her as he wiggled out from under the cot and crawled over the rubble. He couldn’t afford to.  He had to get into that suit.  It opened for him, and when he stepped inside the pieces clicked into place around him with an easy familiarity.

“Hello, JARVIS,” said Tony, as the familiar HUD popped up.  “Did you miss me?”

Very much, Sir, the familiar voice replied.

“Can’t wait to hear about it,” said Tony, “but for now we can…”

“Freeze!” a voice shouted.

Tony looked up to see six cops pointing guns at him. He frowned.  “Really?” he asked.  “I mean… really?  You’re threatening Iron Man with a Glock 22?”  He wasn’t even offended by it, just mystified.  It was public knowledge that the suits could take an anti-tank round – footage of it had made the news years ago.  What did these people think they were going to accomplish?

The cops plainly hadn’t considered that.  They exchanged some nervous glances, each hoping one of the others had a better idea.  Apparently nobody did.

Tony was kind of curious what they might come up with if he stuck around, but there was no time for that.  So he waved and said, “bye, now!” and took off.

In the gathering dusk, the lights of Leesburg dropped away below him, and Tony took a moment to watch as the terrain and air traffic control information appeared in the display, getting his bearings.  Once he had that, he began circling, settling into a holding pattern while he figured out where to go next.  “Okay, JARVIS,” he said.  “What did I miss?”

I believe it will reassure you to know that Captain Rogers and Agents Romanov and Hill, along with a new ally, First Lieutenant Samuel Wilson, are being hailed as heroes in the media for their role in exposing the conspiracy within SHIELD. Unfortunately, they are also all out of work now.

“Tell them there’s always a place for them at Stark Industries,” said Tony.  Rogers wouldn’t accept, but the others might.  “Before we go on, though – the cops must have some kind of record of where they picked me up, and since I’m a celebrity it was probably on the news.  I need you to find that spot, because we gotta track down the truck I came back in.  It’s probably got what I need in it.”  If SHIELD – or HYDRA – were taking the wormhole platform away, they were probably also hiding any leftover tesseract juice they had in storage.  Hopefully, they would put related things in the same place.

Searching now, Sir, said JARVIS.  A map came up in the HUD, and several points illuminated.  Photographs from Google Earth appeared next to each as JARVIS attempted to match the location to images from news websites.

“There!”  Tony stared at one particular image, which JARVIS obligingly enlarged for him.  “The overpass with the white building visible over the hill – where is that?”

That is where the Loudoun County Parkway crosses State Route Seven, said JARVIS.

The area nearby matched – there were the trees and fence he remembered, and he knew he’d seen that building that was peeking out over the crest of the overpass.  “That’s it,” said Tony.  “That’s where we stopped.”  He thought for a moment.  “If I remember correctly, Route Seven goes directly from Washington to Leesburg. Where’s it go after that?”

State Route Seven ends in Winchester, Virginia, said JARVIS.

“Is there anything there they might be stopping for?”

JARVIS brought up a couple more photographs – brick buildings, a copper-roofed gazebo, and a man with a bald head and big horn-rimmed glasses.  The dean of the Shenandoah University School of Arts and Sciences is Dr. Kassander Xanthopoulos, an expert on higher-dimensional physics.  SHIELD consulted him several times in relation to the tesseract, before bringing Dr. Erik Selvig in on the project instead.

“Awesome,” said Tony.  “That’s where we’re going, then.  Now, on the way you can tell me what happened while I was gone.  We had a power surge somewhere over Kansas – then what happened?”

#fanfic #tony stark #iron man

[kurowrites]

Christmas Morning

Happy Holidays to everyone! Here’s some holiday-related Stevetony fluff for everyone! Please enjoy (and reblog if you like)! :D

Tony slowly opened his eyes and blinked into the soft morning light. It was still early and quiet, but there was a strange sense of expectation in the air.

Oh, right, he remembered; Christmas morning.

He turned around and pulled the pillow over his head. The bed was soft and perfectly inviting in its warmth, making it all too easy to doze off again.

Christmas was officially work-free, and he wasn't even on the emergency roster this year, so there was really absolutely no reason to separate from his fluffy comforter just yet. In fact, fusing with it seemed like the idea to go with.

He mentally congratulated himself. Stroke of genius, that one. Get your sleep while no megalomaniac super-villains threaten to destroy the earth. Or business rivals try to take over your company. Or some obsessed stalker tries to get to him. Or-

Whatever. He snuggled deeper into his comforter, letting go of his thoughts in favor of sleep.

His all too rare and precious drowsing was eventually interrupted by someone intruding in his bedroom, not bothering to knock.

“Tony,” Steve's voice came from the entrance, sounding far too awake. “It's Christmas.”

“I know,” Tony mumbled into his pillow.

“The youngsters are desperately waiting to open the presents,” Steve said, stubbornly ignoring the vibe of 'please leave' that Tony was giving him.

“What's keeping them from doing that, then?” Tony mumbled, twisting his pillow just so and... ah, this was it. Perfection.

“You, apparently,” Steve replied. “I think they have something they really want to give you, and you're ruining the surprise.”

Tony made the mistake and stiffened lightly, and Steve was on to it like a shark smelling blood, poking Tony in the shoulder.

“Come on,” Steve cajoled him. “For them.”

Tony turned his head so he could freely glare up at Steve's far too chipper face.

Steve wasn't cowed at all, it seemed. Instead, he held out a red and gold dressing gown to Tony.

Tony looked at the item suspiciously. That definitely wasn't one of his.

“Do I even want to know where you got this?” he asked.

“Probably not,” Steve replied, the faintest of smiles gracing his lips. “But I'm fairly sure it's something you'd actually wear.”

There was really no point in trying to go back to sleep now, so Tony grabbed the dressing gown and slithered out of his wonderfully warm bed and into the gown. He checked his reflection in the large mirror on the wall, and yes, Steve was right. The dressing gown looked good on him. Not quite as as good as an actual armor, but now was probably not the time for that.

He turned away from the mirror and went over to the window, pulling the curtains back and letting the room be fully flooded by bright sunlight. The world outside was covered in a thick white coat, as brilliant in its sugary perfection as one could possibly hope for on a Christmas morning.

“At least the weather is spoiling us this year,” he remarked.

“Right?” Steve asked, sliding next to Tony and handing him a large cup of hot coffee. “Just the right amount of snow. It feels like we accidentally landed in a Christmas commercial. We haven't even had any emergencies yet.”

Tony stared at the cup that Steve had handed him. It had a vintage design of Iron Man on the front, complete with a cute little Santa hat. Where did Steve find these things? It was definitely new, he'd never seen it before.

He took a sip of the coffee, and it was strong and smooth just like he preferred it. It was, however, a different blend than the one he usually used.

“Christmas blend,” Steve said with a smile, still looking out of the window.

“It's good,” Tony said after a moment of silence, the surprise in his voice evident even to himself.

“That's what it's supposed to be,” Steve hummed. “Come on, it's time to go and let the kids have their fun.”

Tony blinked into the the bright morning light one last time, wondering for one moment in what parallel universe he'd woken up today, and then followed Steve out of the bedroom door, towards the living room.

The living room had been decorated lavishly for many days already, with a huge Christmas tree standing at its center. Now, everything was fully lit up, lights flashing everywhere, and the room was filled with Avengers.

All kinds of holiday wishes were cheerfully shouted at each other, and food and drinks were passed around. There was coffee and hot chocolate and tea, but Tony was pretty sure that whatever Thor had in his mug, it wasn't any of that. Someone shoved a plate of cookies under his nose, and he carefully picked one out. The cookies were usually excellent, but careless choices might bring about unwanted adventures. He took a speculoos (you couldn't go wrong with that one) and nibbled on it between sips of his coffee.

As expected with so many Avengers in one room, it was mayhem. Several young Avengers were standing in front of the hi-fi equipment, squabbling over the music that was being played. Their opinions apparently widely varied, with no consensus in sight. Tony rolled his eyes as he passed them by and silently gave J.A.R.V.I.S. a sign that he should play Tony's own Christmas playlist, filled with songs that were festive, but not too cheesy. He smirked at the startled youngsters over the brim of his cup. As long as they weren't able to hack him, they hadn't yet earned the right to choose.

Jan and Natasha were in one corner, snickering about something, which meant that nothing good could would come from there. Rhodey and and Carol were standing by the tree, gazing into each others eyes adoringly as they sipped on their hot chocolate. It was honestly both adorable and nauseating how sweet the two were ever since they had gotten together. Tony couldn't help the light stab of jealousy seeing them like this.

Tony chanced another glance over to Thor. Apparently, he'd now managed to rope Clint into a drinking contest, which was such a terrible decision Tony wanted no part in it. Next to Thor, Peter was dangling off the Hulk, using him as his personal playground.

Peter lit up when he caught sight of Tony, nimbly climbing the Hulk's bicep and launching himself across the room, ending up directly in front of Tony's feet.

“Merry Christmas, Iron Man!” Peter cheerfully declared. “Welcome to the Avengers holiday bash!”

“I'm pretty sure this is my house and my party, but thank you, Peter,” Tony replied with a huff, but he couldn't suppress his smile. “Is there some cake for me yet?”

“Sure!” Peter chirped, already reaching over to get him some. “But then it's presents time!”

Tony sighed. Leave it to the kids to be absolutely thrilled by the idea of ripping colorful wrapping from silly trinkets. (Not that his presents were silly trinkets, mind you. His gift-giving skills were finely honed.)

He took the plate that Peter handed him and poked at the plate while he watched Peter gather everyone around the presents under the Christmas tree.

“So, now that we're finally complete,” Peter declared loudly, “it's PRESENT TIME!”

A few of the younger Avengers enthusiastically whooped. As per tradition, someone dove in and picked up a random item, looking at the name tag and calling the name written on it. The first one this year was Jan, who got a very lovely new lipstick from two of the girls. After unpacking and and enthusiastic thank you, Jan then took the next present and gave it to its recipient. One by one, the presents littered around the tree were picked off like that.

Most names had been called more than once already when Tony's name was finally called for the first time. He stepped forward to receive a small unadorned black box. It was light, and didn't look like much.

“It's from all of us,” Peter said helpfully, grinning.

“Thank you,” Tony replied, a little dubiously. With hesitance, he reached out for the lid and opened the box.

Inside where small cards, approximately the size of a business card, but each of them in a different color and with a different design.

Tony picked a gold-embossed card out of it and read it.

Voucher for one weekend in Asgard, no expenses spared. - Thor

He put it back and took out another one, this one steel grey.

Voucher for a trip to the moon and back (that's what we have these suits for, baby). - Rhodey

Next, he picked a bright yellow one.

Voucher for three karaoke battles with the team of your choosing at the Nocturnal Bar, food & drinks included. - ♥, Jan

He picked out one card after the other, and each of them contained some kind of activity chosen by the Avenger listed on the bottom of the card. The activities themselves ranged from museum visits over handicraft activities to overnight trips.

Speechless, Tony simply shuffled through the cards, reading all the different ideas they had gathered. No two ideas were the same.

“Am I supposed to do all of them in one year?” he eventually asked the room at large. “I'll be very busy, then.”

“Looks like you'll have to make time,” Carol teased.

“You don't have to, like, do all of them,” Peter said nervously. “We just thought you'd, uh, appreciate the choice?”

Tony smiled at him. “All the ideas are great. I love them. Thank you, everyone.”

His gratitude was answered by loud whoops and applause.

“Now,” Tony said, clearing his throat, “on to the next present.

It took forever until the last present had finally been unpacked, and by that time, everyone was stuffed to the brim with cake, cookies and all the other delicious foods that had been passed around. Sated and drowsy, the groups eventually split up, some people absorbed in their Christmas presents, others naturally falling into conversation with their friends.

Tony watched them all for a moment before he quietly withdrew and returned to his bedroom. He carefully put the box with the vouchers on his bedside table and stripped out of the dressing gown. Sighing, he finally relaxed and went into the bathroom to take a long, hot shower that was really overdue. All of the Avengers had seen him in much worse shape other than a little sleep-rumpled, but it still felt like a relief to stand under the comfortable pressure of the falling water at last. He always felt a little more human after that.

When Tony finally managed to turn the shower off and step out, he was in no hurry to get dressed and return to the living room. Scrubbing his hair, he wandered back into his bedroom and found Steve waiting there for him, seated in the large armchair by the window.

“Hey,” he said, throwing the wet towel on the bed. “Enjoying the view?”

“I've seen worse,” Steve replied serenely.

Tony snorted and wandered over to his walk-in wardrobe.

“Is there anything you wanted?” he asked, rifling through his pullovers after he had slipped on some underwear. It was Christmas, but he was really feeling purple today. Well, it wasn't like they had a theme. He pulled out one of his comfortable cashmere pullovers in plum.

When Steve didn't answer his question after a few moments, he stuck his head out of the door, looking at Steve. Steve seemed strangely... contemplative.

“I did notice that there was no card from you,” Tony said, nodding towards the box on his bedside table. “Not that I'm reading anything into that, mind you. Just an observation.”

Steve sighed. “I thought about it, you know. But it seemed stupid to suggest one of our usual activities. And other than that...”

“What would you do?” Tony asked.

Steve looked at him. “Hm?”

“What would you do?” Tony repeated. “If you could choose anything. Wish for something.”

Steve clenched his jaw and stared out of the window for a few moments. The sun was still out, reflecting brightly in the snow.

“Time,” Steve eventually answered. “Sure, a weekend in Copenhagen or Singapore is great, and jumping from a plane is fun, and so is going dancing. But when it comes down to it, it doesn't matter. What matters is time.”

Something we all have preciously little of, Tony thought to himself.

“Once, I thought that I had no regrets,” Steve continued on. “But then I came back, and only now I realize just what I really missed. I'm afraid that I'll do the same thing all over again.”

“I'm afraid the Time-Turner hasn't been invented yet,” Tony said, smiling when Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “I would refer you to Reed Richards, but honestly, I really don't recommend that.”

“You scientists,” Steve sighed. “Always trying to fix everything with technology. I like that color, by the way. It looks good on you.”

Tony looked down at his chest, now covered in the plum cashmere pullover.

“Oh. Thanks.”

He retreated into his closet once more and picked out a pair of black slacks, quickly pulling them on.

“I do approve of that Iron Man dressing gown you gave me, though,” Tony said once he had returned to the bedroom. “Very classy, if I may say so myself.”

Steve chuckled. “Of course you would.”

“Says the Star-Spangled Banner,” Tony shot back, raising an eyebrow. “There is literally nothing classy about that, no matter how you twist or turn it.”

Steve only shrugged at that. Honestly, Tony knew he was smart enough to realize that the costume did have a certain level of utter ridiculousness, although he assumed that came with the entire being Captain America thing. There was a certain amount of ridiculousness necessary to pull being Captain America off. No one would really take him seriously if he was just like anybody else.

“So, what are you planning to do with your time?” Tony asked. When Steve looked uncomprehending, he added, “You are here, I am here, we have time. So, what is it?”

“Shouldn't it be you making that decision?” Steve replied after a moment of silence. “After all, it was me that didn't give you a gift.”

“Details,” Tony hummed. “But if you insist, I could go for a walk. To go and enjoy the Christmas commercial.”

He tilted his head at Steve and got a smile in return.

“Let me get my coat,” Steve said, and retreated from the room.

They wandered along the meandering paths of the park silently for a while. The snow was sparkling in the cold air, the sun not yet strong enough to melt it. A few children were playing in the snow, building snowmen and having snowball fights, but the rest of the world seemed oddly muted, the usual noise of the city reduced to a far-away humming.

At a street vendor's stall, Tony had bought hot cocoa for both of them – less for the cocoa and more for the additional warmth – and so they walked slowly, carefully sipping at their beverages.

“It's surprisingly cold,” Tony observed, watching his breath turn into little clouds, drifting away. “I thought it would be warmer, in the sunshine.”

“It's easy to underestimate how cold it really gets here in the winter,” Steve replied. He looked at Tony's stylish black coat with a considering gaze. “Are you warm enough?”

“Yes, mother,” Tony chuckled. “I'm quite warm. Don't worry your pretty head.”

He paused for a moment.

“Would it be rude to ask you the same question?”

Steve looked confused for a moment, before his expression became one of realization. The ice.

“I don't actually associate the two things with each other,” he explained, a little hesitantly. “It's really not the same thing. And to answer the question, no, the cold doesn't bother me.”

“Does it now?” Tony asked, lips twisting into a wry smile. “So that probably means you don't want to hold my hand?”

Steve's eyes turned wide and round, and he nearly tripped over absolutely nothing.

“I-” he turned a flaming red, “uh, yes – I mean no! I mean- ah, fuck-”

Tony laughed quietly and held out his hand, waiting for Steve to take it. After a moment of hesitance, Steve reached out and enveloped Tony's hand with his own. Large and warm, just like one would expect it to be. Surprisingly gentle.

Tony considered their clasped hands for a moment, and then used the chance to tug Steve down to his level, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

“Aren't you glad I made time for you?”

“You're a little shit,” Steve said, but there was no heat behind his words. “See if I ever bring you coffee again.”

“Don't worry,” Tony chuckled, “I'm sure I can convince you somehow.”

“You aren't half as convincing as you fancy yourself to be, Mr. Stark,” Steve countered, using his bigger body to gently shove Tony.

“Hey,” Tony complained. “You oaf. Do you even know who you're talking to?”

“Yes,” Steve said, sending Tony a brilliant smile. “I think I have an idea.”

#kuro writes #stevetony #stony #a bit of fluff for the holidays #and now I need to go and do my actual work #ugh