|
Post by Nomz on Aug 23, 2024 0:32:56 GMT
Another bark of laughter fills the room at her remark and Tony has the nerve to look like he expected nothing less. "Well, I suppose we'll have to revisit this then. As for Oracle, Jarvis has her contact information. Last I checked, she was working with the Justice League? Maybe."
Tony brings a hand to rub at his lips as he thinks, pausing and frowning when he touches dried skin. Right. He should probably hydrate more. Those dark eyes find Des when she pauses, looking for all the world like a kid who was caught not paying attention in class. For a moment, it looks like Des is saying all the things he expected from bringing someone else in on this and she would be able to see the argument he's already prepared.
Leave it to Tony Stark to have a verbal argument pre-made in his pocket.
Then, she says something that has his expression shifting to consideration and his brows pinch together as he does mental calculations. This is a look she'll likely become accustomed to if she is not already. Tony's building in his head.
"That's- if I just, oh but then-" Those fingers are running over his mouth and chin again before he nods. "Yes. Right. I can do that. Should be child's play."
Faster than he has moved since she joined him, Tony is on his feet and moving towards a staircase between the living room and front door, talking to Jarvis. "Jarvis, start running inventory on the parts we'll need and ordering what we're missing. Are there any more Redbulls downstairs?"
It takes a moment as the very intelligent system replies that Tony's stock is empty, causing the man to spin on his heel and double back for the kitchen instead. He points to Des as he walks past her, "You want to stay to see the lab?"
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 23, 2024 0:46:40 GMT
"Who is Jarvis?" Des asks politely enough, though she looks somewhat annoyed. No one had mentioned to be a personal assistant. Sure, Des can work with them, but it requires learning so much tribal knowledge. Often, they see her as a threat, and in all honesty she is. If she wants to be.
"That's right, Mr. Stark, you pay me an absurd amount of money for a reason," Des thinks to herself, not having the humility to hide her smug smile. "Very good, Mr. Stark," she says instead, nodding her head in his direction, the long suffering help. She stands, smoothing out her skirt. "I will need to see your lab, regardless, and obtain whatever credentials needed to enter it," Des says, following him closely. She takes the time to grab her heels, hooking two fingers into the straps to hold them, dangling somewhat.
"How often do you want me here? I have other clients, and would like to work out a schedule. Will you be paying for my accommodation while I am here, or should I stay in house to help you further? If I am staying here, will that hurt your image, or the image of your company? I am more than willing to put out a press release on a new, made up project, something everyone loves like... cheap, clean water," Des starts, tapping her chin.
"I would offer the usual lie, that we are in a relationship, but that could hurt your playboy image, mmm? We would then need to be seen outside, doing things, and quite honestly, the less the press has a chance to take a picture of you in this state, the better..."
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 23, 2024 1:15:00 GMT
"Jarvis is my boy. Jarvis, say 'hi.'" Tony glances at the ceiling for a moment before going back to his task. There is a pause and then a pleasant voice comes over the speakers.
"Hello, Ms. Allard. I am JARVIS."
"He's an AI assistant and part of the reason I get things done. Sometimes."
His nose wrinkles as she praises him and he has to shove down the image in his head of her saying that to everyone. Even in bed. Tony shoves a can of Redbull in each pocket of his dress pants and three more under his arm as he walks past Des again, headed for the staircase.
"Right. Accommodations. You can stay here or nearby, it is up to you. They'll talk no matter what we do since you're- well since you're you and I'm me. There's no real way to stop that, only ways to spin the tale."
Tony takes the stairs two at a time, trying to ignore that he's out of breath once he gets to the bottom. Still, he pushes on, trying to talk. "Cheap, clean water gets them every time. If it wasn't for every company in the world trying to bury me in legal papers, they'd already have cheap, clean water."
Those brown eyes turn up at Des, "Despite the stories, there are things even I can't do."
The bottom of the staircase leads to a wall of glass and a security door with a computer interface. Instead of typing into the panel or making a gesture, the door pops open with a soft click. On the other side of the door is a mechanic's and engineer's dream.
"There's no real code for anything. Jarvis will make sure you can come and go as needed." Tony hesitates at the door, holding it open with his elbow. "As for how often you're here, whenever you like. I'll need that team as soon as possible so I can work. For now though, I do have a new project to toy with."
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 23, 2024 2:27:35 GMT
Des breathes a sigh of relief. “Hello, Jarvis. A pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you,” she says, honest. She can work with this. Already, she has a good, pleasant feeling about Jarvis. Makes her job easier, knowing the AI is conducive to a productive environment. It has happened a few times where the problem her client has isn’t them… but the people they surround themselves with. Always an awkward conversation to reveal that block is because their assistant isn’t up to task or making things worse. Des has no qualms about making sure certain people are removed, cut off like a dying flower.
Des rolls her eyes, doing her best to avoid his brown eyes. She thinks she likes them. “How are we spinning this, Mr. Stark? I’d like to take the time to carefully wean you into my power. Not only because it will help you with your work, I’ve reason to believe it could help your body function at its peak. Better that, than like it’s been battling toxicity for months,” Des divulges, feeling her reasoning is sound. “What am I to do? If it is wholly up to me, I’d like to stay here for the time being. I have a week until my next appointment, so you have me for that. More than that- where is your guest room? Is it near your room?”
Des makes a face, crinkling her nose. “Don’t get any ideas. This is not me coming onto you. If I’m sleeping close enough, you can benefit from me even at night,” she says, stepping past him into the lab. Looking around, she gives a single firm nod of approval.
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 25, 2024 1:08:01 GMT
"The pleasure is mine, Ms. Allard." Jarvis, it would seem, possesses all of the manners that Tony often lacks.
Cans clatter as they hit his workbench top, more than one trying to roll to the edge, and Tony manages to block their path with his hands. He pauses, righting them so they can no longer roll and he looks over at Des with a frown.
"Jarvis-"
"There is one master bedroom and 4 guest bedrooms at this location."
The engineer's frown deepens, "Where the fuck are the other ones?"
In response, one of Tony's many screens lights up with the blueprints of the mansion they stand in. There are two dots in the workshop/lab, one is red and one is pale pink. If he didn't know better, he would assume the little footprints guiding through the home to the upper level and other bedrooms is a sarcastic addition.
"Huh. I'd have to move into one of the guest bedrooms to be near you. Shouldn't be a hard move considering everything. As for the press, any story you swing sounds good to me. If you're really wanting me to make a choice, we can go with the cheap, clean water option. Good for the image."
His shoulders roll under his dress shirt before he grabs a tablet, flicking through the apps until he finds the one he likes. "If you need your things shipped in, Jarvis can assist with logistics or you're free to do whatever suits you. Like I said, you've got access to everything here. It's not like you'll find anything I don't want you finding- less you go through my clothes, I suppose. I can't stop you from doing that."
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 25, 2024 13:36:47 GMT
"Please call me Des, Jarvis, everyone I like does," Des says with that same prim sniff as before. It seems to be an affectation of hers, something unique to her. Or perhaps all snooty Frenchwomen.
As Des moves through the lab, she is already seeing some glaring issues with the layout. She has a bit of a frown as she looks everything over, poking and prodding what she feels safe to do so with. "Would you be opposed to me rearranging?" Des asks, looking away from a helmet he had been working on to the man himself. "I wouldn't call it feng shui, but I can improve your productivity with a certain... reorganizing of your tools, your workstations, so on," she says, giving him a shrug. It would be up to him.
Des watches the screen and instruction Jarvis provides. He is a machine- she cannot get a read of his intentions, so she doesn't think for a moment he is being sarcastic. "Fabulous," she says, thought her tone is focused and plotting. There is so much to do, so much to lay out for them both...
"Thank you, Mr. Stark, that will be unnecessary. I have a personal assistant that can take care of that for me," Des says, pulling out her phone to get in contact with the young man. Perfect little creature that he is, he likely has multiple shipments ready for occasions like this. Gods, she loves him. He controls all the mundane parts of her life, things she deems too boring to take care of herself. The benefit of being wealthy.
"Lucky for you, you didn't hire me to make sure you lead a fashionable life, just that you can lead it at all," Des says, her joking manner dry. He might be able to catch when she is teasing now, there always seems to be a touch of devilishness to the narrowing of her eyes. "My things will be here tomorrow afternoon, in the meantime, would it be appropriate for me to borrow one of your cars...? I can always get an Uber, but I think I rather like one of these..." she says, her eyes on the Acura NSX. "I have a few errands to run. You are lacking in... so very much," she says, wrinkling her nose at the red bulls. Oh, yes, she is going to make him a far better alternative than that.
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 25, 2024 23:49:28 GMT
Those damned brown eyes glance up from where he's already sketching out a design, watching Des with curiosity. Tony answers with a question of his own, "What is wrong with how I have things set up?"
It is not accusatory so much as the sound of someone trying to figure out how they could have done something better. For all of his faults, Tony knows he will never stop being a student in all things in life. That's not how things work. There is always more to discover and learn. He glances about his workspace as if trying to see what she sees.
He nods absentmindedly as she goes on about her assistant. The guy sounds grand. Not as good as Jarvis, because no one is as good as Jarvis, but that isn't a point he feels he should argue so soon into their arrangement. No. Tony lets Des make her plans in peace as he pops open a can of Red Bull, letting it hiss for a moment before taking a sip.
Tony regrets that sip almost immediately as he watches this woman in his lab eye his Acura. Not once in his entire life has he let anyone touch that car. Hell, none of the cars in his lab/workshop/garage have been driven by anyone other than himself.
"If you need a car or errands, you are more than welcome to take the BMW. She has 4 wheels and turns on." Tony makes a gesture to the ceiling of the workshop, in the general direction of the helipad. "She's in her own garage near the helipad. Should have a full tank of gas on her. Just make sure she isn't returned empty."
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 27, 2024 1:36:01 GMT
"It is the flow, Mr. Stark, as well as level of distraction and derailment," Des says, not too dismissively, but a touch of it. This might be what it is like for anyone Tony is trying to explain things to. She goes into a very, very lengthy explanation of the room and its layout, giving him pitfalls that with her explaining it, he sees he has fallen into. Anything from the organization of his tools being less productive than another system, to certain things cluttering his workspace and inviting his mind to wander away from the task at hand. She isn't entirely utilitarian, there still needs to be some things that allow the brain to rest at regular intervals. She is in depth, precise, and gives him a layout of how she would try to move things around specific to this project.
It is damn good.
"This is simply a part of my ability and expertise. If you give me a task, I can make any room or area perfectly suited towards it. I was once brought on as a wedding coordinator, and you better damn well believe it was a night to remember..." Des says, already moving things around a bit. She pauses, looking at him without a touch of guilt. "That was you agreeing to let me help you, correct? Let me do my job?"
Des has a knack of framing things in a way that leaves so little room for argument.
"Is that really what you think I am worth?" Des asks, and now it is her turn to bat lashes. "A mere BMW?" she says, pouting ever so slightly. He might feel the tug, the pull to please her. Doesn't he want her happy? Want her at her best? It is just a car, right?
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 27, 2024 1:58:50 GMT
"This..." Tony looks down at his tablet where he has been sketching out her plan to get a better feel for it. His pen taps against his thumb as he pulls it up from his tablet and sensors elsewhere in the room trigger, expanding the plans over the room in a cool blue light. Those brown eyes find her again and this time they're almost warm. At least, there's more life in them than there had been.
"Yes. That was me agreeing to let you help," he says with a pleased curl to his lips watching her a moment longer before looking out to the room at large. He's starting to shift a rolling workbench when he hears her talk about her worth. He glances over his shoulder at her as her power curls around his head.
Des is doing a very good job already. She's taken to the assignment so well and she hasn't caused him any grief. Surely, surely she could be trusted with his Acura, a show of good faith on his end. Besides, he's up shit creek without a paddle if she decides to leave him over this.
He sucks in his lips, wetting them before he nods in agreement. He only barely manages to take his eyes away from hers. "Don't scratch her and she'll take care of you. And be back before midnight."
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 27, 2024 2:27:54 GMT
"Oh...." Des says, eyes full of wonder in a moment of candid awe. She watches the augmented reality... hologram... overlay that Tony has used to visualize her ideas. It is strange- she's never felt so understood in this moment. Very few people get her power, there isn't much of a quantifiable way to show it, but this... It is almost like proof. Her thoughts made manifest. Her heart softens just a touch towards Tony- enough to almost make her like him.
Enough to make her regret playing with him. Such an acrid feeling, regret, something she loathes.
"Let's fix this room first, I am not leaving you wallowing in this heap of-" Des starts, then jokingly looks ashamed. "-fabulous, unorganized tools," she says very sweetly, as if teasing him with her own brand of humor that... might be bullying in another context. She rolls up her sleeves, and gets to work. Des has never been one to shy away from a hard job, and it shows with this burst of work ethic she isn't abandoning until it is done.
"So," Des starts as she and he lift a table to move it just a touch to the side, making room for more maneuverability. "How did you find me?"
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 27, 2024 4:34:01 GMT
Tony huffs a laugh as she so obviously pauses and edits her own description of his workspace. There is a part of him that has to admit that he likes that about her, a bit of frankness where others may actually shy away. She almost livens up the place. Almost.
"I've known about you for quite some time, Ms. Allard," Tony replies just a touch breathless. Her presence and the Red Bull gave him a burst of energy, but his sickness is not a light one. There is only so much his body will tolerate. He rubs his forehead against his arm, uncaring about the white fabric of his button-down.
"It was just a simple task of compiling that information along with your unofficial reviews. I had to make sure you were as good as people claimed." He is just so calm about the whole thing, treating it as nothing more than researching the reviews of an Airbnb. "I am glad I decided to invite you out."
Tony looks down at her and says, "You're already making such a difference."
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 27, 2024 23:34:13 GMT
Without much speaking on it, it is clear that Des takes the lead on rearranging. She is by no means one of the mutants with super strength- but she makes due. If she were someone with such a power, she would certainly be less well received. It is a large reason why she has never divulged to anyone her ability to preternaturally persuade. It would paint her in a terrible light, like someone dangerous. No, better everyone is under the same impression- she lives to serve, to make other their best, to push art and invention forward.
"Well? What is the verdict? You haven't kicked me out, so I take that as a point in my favor," Des says, the last bit rather dryly. They have almost finished with the rearranging... next is reorganizing. That is something he can do a lot better than this. Pivot, Des. "Can you get the tools? I want you to know the new system, though it is very similar to your last," she says, getting him to do far less of the actual heavy lifting. Judging by what is left for her, she should be fine.
"What exactly did you hear? And from whom?" Des asks, keeping the conversation going.
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 28, 2024 1:50:03 GMT
It is perhaps the most compliant she has ever heard of Tony Stark and she finds firsthand that he has an eye for detail. He follows the layout that hovers around them like an interactive blueprint, taking notes of her choices as they work. It would seem that when it involves a project or task he is not the most skilled at, Tony knows how to keep his head down.
"I'll be a bit lost at first, but I'll be able to figure this out," Tony replies honestly as he looks around the room at large, rubbing idly at his chest. It is something he does when it is harder for him to catch his breath. "I like it though."
He raises a Red Bull to his lips, taking a sip as she instructs him to get his tools and set them up with the new system. Tony tips his head in acknowledgment even as he notices that there are still a few pieces of furniture to be adjusted. Not a fight he has the strength to take on.
"Generally, you are well-liked. People who like to talk say that you are encouraging and that you have been able to turn around even the most insistently pessimistic artists. Not everyone had a glowing recommendation, but-" Tony looks up at her from the depths of a scuffed toolbox, pointing at her with a socket wrench. "They can go fuck themselves. I haven't found what they were so pissy about."
"As for the who? I won't sell out my sources so easily, Ms. Allard. No matter how much you bat those eyelashes at me." And Tony takes the time to tilt his head down and bat his eyes lashes at her. "You won't make me give up my sources, will you?"
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 28, 2024 2:14:23 GMT
"Good. It will take time to adjust, but soon you will find it second nature. Especially with me around," Des says, that prim sniff coming back. She keeps moving things around, working diligently enough. She will, by simple proximity, help him not make mistakes in remembering the changes and moving around the relocated furniture.
Des gives him the side eye, vowing to ban all Red Bulls. He will see her wisdom in time. For now, he can keep his poor man's cocaine.
There is a bit of preening she does as he sings her compliments- then she looks haughty. "Oh? please, what exactly are these less than glowing recommendations?" she asks, already with a few names in mind. People who had resisted her, denied her at every step, pushed back on even the simplest of changes. All they had wanted was furniture in the room to make them perform better, not actually make changes to to their habits and environment to have lasting beneficial effects. Idiots. They just want shortcuts- not actual growth.
Des perks up a bit. A challenge? "Ah, but you are Tony Stark, known for your journalistic integrity-" she says, then makes an 'o' face. "Wait. That isn't you at all. You should tell me. Let me know all their dirty secrets, in the meantime, I am sure you know something, Mr. Stark," she says, batting her own eyelashes back. The regret from before lingers. She doesn't use her power.
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 29, 2024 0:59:41 GMT
The edge of his lips twitch, aching to smirk in response. Instead, Tony tips his head a bit further down, looking at his tools with a very solemn and apologetic expression.
"I hate disappointing such a wickedly intelligent woman such as yourself, however, I am a man of my word on occasion." There is barely covered laughter in his voice as she flutters her eyelashes at him. "I fear, if you really want that information, you may need to torture it out of me and, well, I've been a prisoner of war once already. I doubt you could do anything worse than The Children of Adam."
"Now," Tony says while moving his tools around a bit, not quite matching the pattern she had set up as if testing her. "Why did you agree to come out here? After all, I am sure my reputation did not exactly give you an ideal impression of me."
|
|