bootstraps rich girl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nothingtofear) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
chutzpah2014-12-04 07:52 pm
nothingtofear) wrote in chutzpah2014-12-04 07:52 pm
⋆ sail with me among the stars ⋆
select character, alternate universe. anything is fair game.
select character, alternate universe. anything is fair game.
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with a grin he takes a swig, and from there things get hazy. people are milling around, asking him things. there's a physics question, he remembers, answering it without a second thought and dismissing the man who asked it. he looks down at his empty drink in dismay but when he blinks and picks his head back up -- there she is. and how could it be that she's sitting all alone, a beauty like her.
tony sets his glass down and walks in mostly a straight line to greet her, giving his best smile and making sure his glasses are on straight. these ones have a yellow-tint. ] Care to dance, or are you all out?
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Sup
C&C AU.
Pie Shop.
Watching the news that Vulcanus has been defeated forever and the ImPorts have won and may get to go home soon.
Y/N?
takes ten years for this oh well MERRY CHRISTMAS etc
"That's it," he says after a moment of silence, tightening his grip rather than pulling away, though he was never one to initiate prolonged contact, even with someone he'd come to think of as his very best friend.
and to all a good night
<3
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He finally took her up on her offer to visit Florida, ignoring all her jokes that it was only because it was so damn cold up North. Even though, you know, it was. It feels weird to have just shorts on in the middle of winter, but he's definitely not complaining when she's just as scantily clad. The natives seem to think weather is happening, under their blankets instead of on them, but everyone else (sane, normal people) are enjoying the hot sun and surf.
"You want a drink?" he asks, wondering what it is about warm weather and a cool ocean breeze that just makes a person need a beer in their hand, but he's feeling it something fierce as he adjusts the umbrella over her head so she's not getting too much sun. "I know, I know. Surprise you. I'll be right back."
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You can always use a snack on the beach.
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SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
bonus pain!!
NO IM SORRY MY LIFE IS COLLAPSING ON ITSELF ASLKJS;
The area immediately around him glows a little blue it's so dark in here, but he gets to the on switch and presses it, stepping back a little though he's not sure why. It's just a jacked up old IBM, it's not going to blow up. You know, probably. Actually, remembering how Howard did things make him feel validated for being precautious.
idek this is a thing
it sure is wheezes
o_o
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"Hey, yourself," she barely manages to get out as she steps over the entrance, the same look of slightly confused amusement on her face, before Tony is pushing up into her space, his arms going tightly about her. A small noise of surprise escapes Pepper, though it's as natural as breathing to immediately envelop him in her embrace in return. Her smile slips away, a concerned frown knitting at her brows even as she strokes his hair and back soothingly. There's something more to this than just him missing her, as she'd initially thought. She knows by now how it is when he's looking to hide from the world.
"Baby," she murmurs into his hair, her worry bleeding into her tone now, "What's wrong? Is Peggy alright?" Her immediate fear is that whatever was done to their aunt has failed and she's reverted back.
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Soon the door is coming open. He gently deposits her down onto the bed. He's sure he's setting himself up to get hit, but he can't complain. It's not like it hurts. "There. Now will you please get some sleep?"
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Tony could feel it, crawling under his skin. The knowledge that something wasn't right; that he knew why it wasn't. But no matter how hard he tried, it just wouldn't happen. The pieces wouldn't connect. He had been holed up down here for weeks, trying to replicate the Iron Man suit. He knows he's the engineer, he has to be. How could he not recognize his own work?
There's Pepper's voice, maybe Bruce's. His only true sounds of reason amidst the fray of absolute insanity. He's actually losing it, which is a symptom of going sober cold turkey and all but he knows that isn't all it is. He scraps another gauntlet and falls onto his arm on the cleared workspace. Is he just being an arrogant ass? Maybe someone else is capable of tech like this.
Maybe he has a fucking long lost brother, that would be more plausible. But he can't figure it out and it's tearing him up inside.
He's so out of it, so sleep deprived and beyond fucked up that he doesn't hear her shoes on the stairs. What if he just lays here, cheek to metal, until things start making sense again? That seems as sound a plan as any.
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She knows better than to think it's a secret to Phil and certainly not to Fury, but so far she's done what she'd had to. So far she has gotten no more than thinly veiled remarks and knowing looks -- or concerned, in Phil's case. She'd always counted him as a friend, but she knows Phil doesn't exactly approve. Pepper's heart constricts as Tony slumps over his desk on the other side of the door. She has a job to do, an assignment-- and as much as she wants to do her job well like the eternal overachiever she is, she's not sure that's an option any longer. Hasn't been in a good while now, honestly. Watching Tony slowly tear himself into pieces over his lost memories is harrowing. How much longer can he keep this up? How much longer can she? God damn it.
Punching in her access code out of muscle memory, she pushes through the door. "Tony?"
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pretend this didn't take me over 3 months ;;
i would have happily waited longer <33
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Tony had made a scene at the funeral, or at least, he'd started to. About halfway through he'd caught Steve's eyes from across the room and excused himself from the podium. It's not even worth it -- nothing is his. Everything his father did, he'd done with Steve or for Steve. Since Maria's death so many decades ago it was like he didn't even have a son. And Tony pretended he preferred it that way. Steve had tried to reach out to him, plenty of times. In such an overt way Tony had suspected he and his father had more than just a partnership. Now he's not sure what he thinks, maybe Steve really is just that earnest. It kind of makes him ill.
Either way, it comes as no surprise when Steve shows up at the mansion. Though the timing seems suspect. It's been almost a week since the service -- since Tony walked out on his obligation as Howard's only successor. He doesn't let him in, not right away; opting instead to go for the intercom. "Did you run out of sugar?"
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He knew Howard was dead. He was inside his head to the very last terrible second. He couldn't stop acting like there was still a chance to save him despite knowing better. Steve felt his terror and regret as if it was his own. That was the price of the drift. He wanted to save him if only so his last thoughts didn't have to be that.
It took him a week to get well enough to do this. He doesn't care about getting a partner though he should. They always come back. He needs to have a partner if only because Fury wouldn't allow him to nearly kill himself every time they were under attack. What he cares about is giving closure to Tony and Howard to an extent. All his regret was focused on his son. Steve has to try to fix this one last time before letting go completely somehow. He's spent so much time in Howard's mind it almost feels like abandoning his own son.
"We need to talk, Tony. Please let me in." He looks exhausted and it edges into his voice despite how patient it is otherwise. They have done this dance before. Steve never gives up, but he knows to give Tony space. This time he just can't.
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Howard set his jaw, turning to put out his arm just as Steve did. They were not two separate beings but one. And the same way they were the same person, there was one singular truth; and he knew they both could see what would happen next. It scared him immediately not because he was going to die, but because Steve would try and die with him. Though he had never been an overly selfless man, he was never a fan of unnecessary loss either. And if they both died, who would grieve them? He knows a better way to make Steve hang on, though.
Before the explosion hits, he speaks up, clearing his throat past the dryness of the cabin. He's outlived his usefulness and he knows it, advances in medicine truly the only reason he's still able to be here now. They could prolong his life, but they couldn't make him immortal. And as much as he'd toyed with the idea when he was younger, he doesn't want it now.
"You have to promise... you'll take care of him. My boy," he clarifies, though he knows Steve already knows who he means. Who else is there? "He's the best thing I ever did, Steve." The pain shows on his face, and he shakes his head. Tony didn't know that, he's sure of it, but maybe it's somehow better this way. Or if not better, at least it isn't fake.
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Of course Howard won't let him have that. For a good second, Steve hates him for that. Steve will have to comply with his wishes. Even without all the history between them he's never been one to deny someone their dying wish.
Steve exhales harshly. "I know." Tony may hate him, but that didn't change the fact he did right by everyone else. Steve's proud of him. "That's why you have to tell him yourself already." He can't keep him alive. They both know it. Steve has to try. He can't just accept being alone in the world.
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Pepper had been great, she always was. But he couldn't open up to her when he didn't feel there was anything to open up about. A guy he barely knew died, if they weren't linked genetically what claim could he even have to the grief in his heart? Is he sad for what could have been? Is he sad for Steve? Is he upset about the Jaeger project; about S.H.I.E.L.D. bearing down on his life -- until now relatively peaceful? Save that one time he got kidnapped and had his heart blown up, but hey.
He sighs, sitting in a dark corner of his workshop and swirling the liquid around his glass. He isn't drinking to drink, or to get drunk. He's drinking because it's the only link he has to Howard. Other than the man who'd just left.
Starting a little, he thinks Steve just came back to say something, or maybe he left something down here. But then he hears the faint clack of her heels and he lets another breath out, looking up at her arrival. "Did you see him?" He assumes they must have at least glanced past one another, since Steve literally just left. Tony knocks back his drink and sets it aside, looking down at his hands in reflection.
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What had been surprising, though, was that Steve had been coming out of Tony's workshop. Clearly there must have been some progress made if Tony let Steve enter into his sanctum sanctorum, the one place where only a few select people had any business to step foot into.
"I did, in fact," Pepper confirms without preamble as she makes her way over to where Tony is sat and perches next to him on the edge of the old couch with her body facing him at an angle, legs crossing as gracefully as ever despite long limbs and tall heels. Folding her hands over one knee, she studies Tony for a beat, debating on waiting him out at first but realizing soon after that she's unable to contain her curiosity long enough for that. Mostly neutrally, she prompts, "I was surprised to see him coming out of here. What happened?"
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trigger verse
[ tony couldn't cope with his girlfriend being a shield agent -- call him old-fashioned. he couldn't make sense of their relationship now that he knew she had been planted from the start. they all know he's paranoid, has been for some time. has been steadily losing his mind since the hotel incident.
it starts the way it always starts, he raps on her bedroom door late at night. he waits a few seconds before coming in, but he's sure she's awake and knows exactly who it is. not just because she's a precog sometimes either. she just knew stuff, she was good like that. he's hoping she can give him some insight on how he's supposed to react to this.
but also, as usual, he looks like hell. his eyes are swollen and red, with dark bags under them. his hair is unruly in parts and matted down in others. tired doesn't adequately describe his posture, exhausted down to his bones so that it's palpable with every small, slow movement he makes. he should probably sleep before he makes any decisions at all -- who knows how long it's been. he's terrified to sleep, he can't eat. he's jumpy and vacant at once. this is unsustainable, and he's going to end up killing himself though he's only just evaded dying. ]
...You asleep? [ he asks, voice hoarse, words superfluous as he approaches her bed. ]
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No, there's a strange man in my room. Maybe you could chase him out for- [She stops her half-hearted complaining long enough to look at him. It's worse than all the other times. She sits up immediately, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. This is one of the rare times she thinks she slept well without drugs. Of course this is the time he needs her.]
You need to get cleaned up. [It's an order. Whatever happened can wait. She can't get a rational response out of him when he looked like he slept under a bridge.]
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Anyway, when he gets to the Mansion, Elekra is sitting quietly at the kitchen counter. That isn't like her. She's usually in her gym at this time or reading somewhere. Or even, after a particularly exhausting day, sleeping soundly. This is strange indeed. Without giving her a proper greeting, he efficiently puts away all the cold items except one, carting a pint of ice cream over to her with two spoons. >>
Cookie dough for your thoughts? [ he says softly, moving to sit on the stool nearest hers. ]
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The thing is he was kind. She never got the impression he wasn't giving his job everything he had. This was his best and she took solace in that. He was also recommended by Pepper which was an issue. Even if she continues not to buy Tony's crazy stories, she has to still wonder about Pepper. Everything linked to her could be tainted. That includes one of the few nice things she has in her life.
Elektra reluctantly takes one of the spoons and continues to look anywhere, but at Peter.] What do you think of Pepper and Tony?
[It's an innocent enough question.]
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She keeps that to herself when they drag Toni away for a lecture. Now that the girl is here with some fake apology that anger spills out. Stevie sets her jaw and stares her down with every bit of calm fury she has. "I don't want much less need a coerced apology. Get lost." From the look in her eyes, she means it. She's not trying to be tough. She just wants the other girl out of her sight.
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So here she is, pulled fresh and flustered off her last class of the afternoon (art history) to guide the gaggle of fellow students from the participating schools around the campus. It's a small group, a few boys and a handful of girls. Most of them are courteous enough and ask your usual, sensible-ish questions here and there. The brunette from MIT (or so Pepper recalls) is on the snarkier side and half the time seems to have an air of bored intolerance to her, but at least she's amusing. Pepper even returns some of the girl's snark with her own occasionally, not always successfully biting back her smirks.
One of the boys is intolerable, though, and Pepper wonders uncharitably however did he manage to get into any college, much less Ivy League. Nobody can be that clueless for real, surely. The dudebro makes obnoxious jokes and hur hurrs at them in a manner that makes Pepper want to chuck her art history book at him. He seems totally oblivious to both Pepper's silent contempt and the stealth insults she shoots his way whenever her tolerance dips low enough. Unable to quite curb the wrinkling of her nose at his latest stupid line, Pepper notes they're (thankfully) coming back to visitor's center where they'd started almost an hour ago, concluding her part in today's program for the group. Someone else would take over entertaining them, now.
"So, here we are. Hope you guys had a good time getting to know our campus a little." She smiles, politely hiding the reality of wanting nothing more than to ditch these people already so she can get on with her own day.
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Every now and then, Toni will pop her head up and offer a snide comment, but otherwise she's disconnected and 100% uninterested. It takes a lot to hold her attention on a good day, and she's grumpy from the trip over. Not enough coffee, her hypoglycemia is acting up, this guy in front of her is annoying as fuck. He stops up short when Pepper calls the end of the tour and Toni walks right into him. She looks scandalized when he asks her 'Walk much?' but thankfully he's outdone his own wit and is gone soon enough.
"I need a latte," she grumbles, starting to wander out of the pack.
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After so many years she had to concede defeat. The boy must be dead, she reasoned. She too joined the others in never speaking of him except to his mother. Maria could never let it go however. She had told her young charge about her long lost son. It captured Stephen's imagination and compassion. He promised when he was old enough to leave that his first quest would be to return this lost son to his mother because it was the right thing to do. He held her when she cried at that and knew with all his heart that he'd succeed where the others failed. Maria would be happy again.
He jumped at the chance to fix his health to hurry the chance to leave the kingdom along despite barely being out of his teens and his mother's disapproval. It was fate that made him survive the mix of two great men's work. The others were not so lucky. One of the men was assassinated that day. Later on, Howard and Maria were also killed while out riding together in an "accident." His mother was lost to illness that Steve was now immune to along with all other things.
The only good thing to come out of it was marrying the love of his life and securing the future of his kingdom. They were doing well for themselves and their people. Everyone was happy except perhaps Steve. His promise to Maria weighed on him. He never did make it on that quest.
It was a small lament considering all else was well in the kingdom. No one could argue that Steve was unfit to rule anymore. Still Steve never forgot where he came from as an unliked, sickly child with only one true friend. He often came to the stables to be alone as he did back then. Tonight was no exception since he didn't want to wake his queen with his nightmares.
What he finds there puts him on guard out of necessity. "If you need lodging, we can help you. Staying in the stables without asking makes a bad impression." Especially with this kingdom's history with assassins. Steve looks unassuming even in the darkness. He's wearing soft pants, a simple long sleeved shirt, and boots that could make him appear as anyone other than the king to someone who didn't know any better.
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He spent most of his time in the castle tinkering, since Steve had told him to become 'useful' to the court in some way. He knew it was as much for his benefit as anything, but sometimes even he had to get out. Still, when the crowds became too much he would head to a place he still remembered. A small clearing just at the edge of the wood, hidden from sight but still quite out in the open. It's here where he feels free to do what he pleases -- alone and yet the only place he feels himself.
Sitting on a stump cut long ago, he produces the little toy cart he had made when he was young, setting it on the ground. After a moment of studying it, Tony's eyes rove along the grass and the cart takes the same path -- zipping on little carved wheels as if motorized. He finds himself grinning, making it do little loop-the-loops and figure-eights with only his eyes or a point from his finger to redirect it.
Somewhere amid this childish play, an observer had gone unnoticed by him. At least, unnoticed until the toy had found her foot with some force, colliding with her shoe. Where had she come from? Tony had been so caught up... His eyes widen, wondering if she'll turn him into the king. He thinks Steve will believe him if he denies it, but he would rather not lie. And then there was always the scenario where he didn't and he ended up in prison for real. He finds himself holding his breath, greedy gaze taking in what he can make out of her face. Her cloak covers her hair and comes down over her face, but her blue eyes and piercing despite it, her pale freckled countenance making them stand out all the more.
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And they don't. Nobody can ever know the circumstances that forced her to flee her hometown for good, the reason why she's likely still being hunted by lord Killian's family. She's made herself a new home here, but she lives in an almost constant state of wariness and alert. It's hard to keep her secrets, living a life without growing too close to anybody so as not to endanger herself or them, but the alternative is to hang -- or burn, or be drowned, perhaps? -- for revealing them, accidentally or on purpose.
There's a clearing not far from the brook she tends to visit often, listening to the calming burble of the water. Today, the clearing is already occupied as Pepper approaches, which instantly has her guard up. Nobody comes here but her, not that she's ever seen. Curious and cautious in equal measures, she draws the hood of her green clock higher up as she creeps closer on the soft grass -- she'd forgone a cap or a covered hairnet for her walk today like she usually wears to hide her too-distinctive hair. Leaning one palm against a nearby tree, she watches the unfamiliar man in secret, scarcely daring to draw breath at what she's witnessing.
So enthralled is she that she misses the way the toy swerves and smacks into her foot, startling a gasp out of her. Her heart pounds wildly in her chest as dark eyes spear hers, her body tensing instinctively in preparation of fleeing. She feels like a doe caught in the way of a hunter's arrow, fisting her skirts tightly to heft them higher so she can run better. But almost immediately she realizes the man looks just as frightened as she must appear, staring wide-eyed at one another. Something makes her stay, and not just the fact that she's never met another person cursed with magic before.
Never taking her eyes off him -- she's curious but not naive -- she crouches slowly and picks up the toy cart, slender fingers marked with ink stains and small calluses. Oh so carefully, she takes a few steps closer, offering the toy back to him.
"You should be more careful," she finally intones quietly, still visibly wary but less so than a moment ago. "You know what could happen." If someone sees, goes the unsaid part.
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"Hey, buddy. You look like shit." He says it with a smile ofc.
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He looks up at the other man, the corner of his mouth quirking some, "Still look better than you."
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I LOVE THESE MORONS FUCK
ME TOO UGH
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"I can't believe you didn't tell me about Stevie and Natasha." No, seriously, she can't believe he'd managed to keep his mouth shut on the matter.
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"We overslept," he laments groggily, pulling his hand away to rub at his eyes and stretch. It had felt good to sleep out here, but he's pretty sure about fifty mosquitoes thought the same.
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Uncharacteristically, she's all too in her head as she finds herself walking the opposite way down the street as Steve, on her way to the motel for the night. She plows directly into the slight man, eyes flying open wide while she actually fears that he may break. Without hesitation, she plucks him up off the road and puts him back on his feet like he's but a tiny adorable kitten. Which, like, he kind of is. Wow.
"I didn't see you there," she speaks brusquely in a Russian-kissed accent, green eyes surveying him to make sure there's no damage.
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Steve gives her a once over too before thinking better of it. Wow she is stunning. He'll stare at his feet all day if he looks at her for longer than a minute. "No harm done, ma'am." He brushes off his clothes for good measure for what little good it does. He's still dirty from the road.
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You up? [ he asks in a loud stage whisper, face up against the door. ]
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The door opens soon afterward. Tony is greeted with a yawn.] Come on in.
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[ it isn't often that he finds himself in a bar these days. he could still pass a whole night people watching, but the setting of a bar was too inviting, strangers naturally drawn to his grumpy demeanor it seemed the darker and danker the place. no, he walks right on past the dive bar adjacent to his tiny motel room and instead ventures all the way to the corner package store. the selection and the bright lights overwhelm him, especially since he doesn't even know what he likes to drink. he goes for something familiar and easy in a rectangular bottle of whiskey and makes his way to the counter.
frank swiftly makes his purchase, crushing the bag around the bottle since he doesn't intend to go home tonight, and beelines for the park. as fucked up as it is, sometimes that's the only place he can go that doesn't feel sufficating -- that he understands about this mad, mad city. he sits stiffly on the bench facing the carousel and opens his prize, taking a long swig and closing his eyes for the burn. sat here like this, he can hear billy's voice, quarreling good-naturedly with maria, his laugh as frank beat his face beyond recognition.
well, that's enough of that. he takes a longer swig this time and tries to clear his mind. tries to watch the people going by. it's just after dusk, but a woman with a stroller jogs by with a scowl just for him even while her golden retriever gives him the warmest grin. frank smiles back, his nose pinking from the cold and alcohol both. he hears laughter in the distance, and by the time he's a quarter way into the bottle he's slumped into the back of the bench, the horses a blur of bright colors every time he blinks his eyes back open, though even that is getting to be more and more of a struggle.
a figure swims into focus then, as if appearing from midair though he knows that can't be right. he must not have eaten today because he feels woozy and whatever she's saying sounds like that teacher from charlie brown. frank rests the covered bottle on his knee and looks up until he can see her face, a high ponytail and a smile registering pleasantly even if he doesn't understand anything else. ] ...Huh? [ he manages belatedly, instead of feeling annoyed finding that he wants to know what she's saying. almost desperately so. ]
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(the secret is that things have already been worse. she'd watched asgard fall twice now: both times she was unable to stop it, both times she'd been spared. she wonders how many more will be sacrificed, how many more she must watch die at her feet. a life carrying this weight, no matter how much alcohol and time can lighten it, can still grow heavy.)
it's late at night when she ventures out, her armor traded in for a leather jacket and dark jeans that probably don't do much against the cold. but it doesn't bother her anyway, asgardian bodies are made tougher to withstand more: more pain, more sorrow, more regret, and while she'd never consider herself a god (that's thor, that's hela, and she still remembers struggling in that last fight with her), she figures the fact that she can't seem to die whenever she expects to probably makes her close enough to one. or something to that effect. she walks through the park without a destination in mind, this is only her third nighttime stroll and she's still learning the lay of the land, so to speak. it's only when her boots hit gravel that she realizes she's wandered into an area she has yet to explore -- a lone man slumped on a bench in front of a darkened carousel. she can smell the sharp bite of alcohol in the air, not as strong as the ale on asgard or the moonshine on sakaar, but it's the closest she'll get. ]
I asked if you'd be willing to share. [ maybe talking to a stranger sitting on a bench clearly drunk is probably a bad idea, but honestly, she can't even judge. she's been sober for a week. she slants a smile at him, nodding to the bottle. ] But it seems to me you might be a little too attached.
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And on this auspicious night, a Friday landing on the thirteenth of the month as it were, Tony cannot avoid it any longer. The question is how to get her attention without anyone else noticing? It truly isn't even appropriate for them to spend time together, though Peggy and Steve will forgive him a lot more than the other subjects it's no reason to become overconfident.
It's not quite dusk, the bright yellow of the moon reflecting down on them though the Sun hasn't yet set. Tony stands outside the modest outbuilding where Pepper has her quarters, hidden behind an ancient Beech tree as handmaidens and guards mill about. Tony pulls the enchanted parchment from his cloak and sets it free once the coast is clear and it blows into her room in the shape of a little ship through the window, open just a crack. He fidgets as he waits for her to read the note and decide to come outside - if she does. It's pretty lame as far as messages go and he knows it.
P -
Don't leave me hanging
- T
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The night they'd spent together here in her modest dwelling intrudes on her memory often, usually at the most awkward of times-- as does the promise of marriage he'd made her. I'll ask you again later, he'd pledged. But how could that even be possible for them? Yet, ever since that night she's felt him with her even when they're on the other side of the city, like a part of her; something fundamental and irrevocable. They didn't need marriage to be bonded, she thinks. She misses him even now, but they have to be careful.
She startles a little when the letter shaped like a little ship sails through the tiny crack in the window. She can't grab it quick enough, eager and cautious both even though there's nobody in her quarters but her. A fond little smile tugs at her lips when she reads the short note, wondering if he feels this pull within, too. Folding the parchment and slipping it down the front of her blue dress, she reaches out a hand and makes a gesture, like grabbing at empty air; the fire in the hearth and the few lit candles extinguish immediately. Pepper smiles, satisfied. She's gotten progressively better at controlling her unwieldy magic, even though it's been awhile since they've had a lesson.
Shrugging on her cloak and pulling the hood up, she latches the window and steps out, making sure to lock the door in her wake. Her heart beats quickly in her chest, anticipation rushing through her veins as she leans against the door for a moment and scans the area as discreetly as possible, mindful of the other people still milling about; Tony must be close by.
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i wrote this days ago but it was sitting open on my work computer good grief
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