|
Post by Countess on Aug 29, 2024 21:18:03 GMT
"Torture you?" Des says, inspecting a particularly hefty wrench she's picked up. "I suppose I could... Though, I would be rather creative with it, you know. I am an artist, not some two bit thug holding you hostage for- what was it you used to do? Right, right, build weapons...." Des says, rolling her eyes at the Iron Man suits. He might be smart enough to see this is the torture she had in mind. "Yes, creative, the human body is capable of so much pain, but the mind? Oh, that scars in ways that change who we are," Des says, putting the blunt instrument down to give him a look of her own.
"How about we skip the torture, go for something more fun for both of us. You're no good to anyone if you're a blubbering mess, non?" Des asks, though doesn't wait for an answer. "One for one. You ask something, I answer honestly. I ask something, you answer honestly. The easiest and most childish of ice breaking games, everyone loves it," she says, rolling her eyes.
"I believe the ancients called it.... quid pro quo."
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 29, 2024 21:34:34 GMT
"Anyone ever tell you that you would make an excellent villain?" Tony tries not to think about the chill her words send down his spine as she speaks. No, best not to think about being under her hands in any framing. Not his safest topic. The engineer sets down his tools and turns to fully face Des as he leans on a countertop.
"I think it's cute you think you could make me a blubbering mess, chérie," he says, smirking just a bit as he considers her offer. It would do him well to learn a bit more about her, but it also leaves him open to her questions. Those could be dangerous and Tony isn't quite the testosterone-driven, fearless young man he had been.
Still.
"If I gave you permission, would you touch me," he says this without an inch of anything more than quiet curiosity as if he were merely asking what she thought of the weather. Tony reaches up to tap lightly at the edge of his arc reactor.
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 29, 2024 21:50:08 GMT
"Who says I'm not one?" Des fires back, giving him a nonchalant and noncommittal shrug. "You would not be surprised the recruitment offers I have turned down," she says, rather dryly. All those silly teams bore her. It would have to take something big for her to change her mind about the whole... volunteer fighting crime thing. She really likes money, comfort, and safety. Tony only has one of those, as far as she can tell. Not the best poster boy.
"Only one way to find out if I have it in me," Des says, finding a seat to sink into. It ends up being s stool, her least favorite. Whatever. She leans to the side, putting her elbow up on a table as she props her head up under her chin with a fist.
"Mon lumière, you are an incorrigible cheat! Shame on you, for I cheat too. You never agreed to the trade," Des says, smiling wickedly. "You have to completely, absolutely agree. I will not be conned out of a truth just to have you withhold a lovely truth of your own."
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 29, 2024 23:11:59 GMT
As she speaks, his eyebrows slowly crawl their way higher and higher up his forehead. She's...yeah. Tony likes her. There's no two ways about that and he's given up the fight before the battle can even start.
"Me? A cheat? Hardly, madam." He pulls out the mock affronted card, palm now firmly pressed to his chest. "Perish the thought. I would never cheat in such a small little game."
Tony lies like the fucking liar he is.
"But, alas, if my good word is not enough for the lady, then, yes. I agree to your terms. One truth for another. However, I do believe that I asked first," he says, finally dropping the posh speech for something distinctly more American. "So, if I permitted you, would you touch me, Ms. Allard?"
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 29, 2024 23:28:51 GMT
Des rolls her eyes at him, seemingly very aware of his lying. She can sometimes tell when someone is, just by their intentions and emotions, but Tony is rather good at what he does. It is his silliness that sets her straight. Don't need to be a mind reader for that one.
"Thank you for your cooperation in this matter, Mr. Stark," Des says, a devilish glint in her eyes. Of course she isn't forcing him into anything, but she looks like she just maneuvered him into a corner.
"I would, once I was sure I wouldn't harm you," Des replies easily enough. It doesn't bother her to admit she wants him unharmed- he is paying her, after all. "As for you... What will it take to get you to quit drinking those nasty little energy drinks, mmm? What if I could make one that is better tasting, gives you just as much energy, and is healthier for you?" Des asks. She is trying to be clever, se if he is keeping up.
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 30, 2024 0:23:36 GMT
His eyes narrow the moment she refers to him as Mr. Stark, suspicion lining his smirk. He knows enough to know she's up to something and he goes back through the terms to make sure that there isn't a loophole he missed.
"I appreciate that you would make sure I didn't get hurt from your touch," Tony answers with an odd show of sincerity. However, that little bit disappears under a low chuckle as he shakes his head, dark hair falling over his eyes for a moment.
"Ms. Allard, you're only allowed one question, not two. If I didn't know better, I would think you were trying to cheat." His arms come up to cross over his chest, finger tapping against his bicep. "They help me stay on track. I would need a replacement of some sort that would be easy to access."
"Will we part ways once I am no longer dying from this?"
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 30, 2024 0:44:04 GMT
Sincerity. Now she is getting somewhere. This is her lifeblood, the truest self of others they can bare. Soon, she will get even deeper into him, and make sure he never forgets the name Desiree Allard, his Muse.
"Actually... I am afforded as many questions as I like, it is simply a one to one ratio. Good test, however, shame you didn't answer, I'll be taking my new question shortly after," Des says preening.
Ah, what a damn question. She opened herself up to this. "Well, that would depend on you, Mr. Stark. If you wanted me around for friendly, informal purposes, I would be willing as of this moment. If you would like to continue to hire me for other projects, I am most amenable at this time. You are agreeable, more so than those I do not like working with, so you have that point in your favor. If things continue like this, I would enjoy working with you on the long term. However... there is a caveat..."
Why is she saying this?
"My ability can be addictive. I don't want that for you," she says, looking away. "If you didn't want to hire me any further because of that, I understand. I would ask for your discretion. Not everyone has that response... and I help those who do."
It is something that makes her unable to sleep, sometimes. She doesn't say that, however.
"..... what do you think of me now?"
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 30, 2024 1:40:45 GMT
Tony's palms shift to the top of the counter behind him, muscles tensing in his arms before he hops up onto the counter. His heels tap against the cabinet underneath the counter as he adjusts himself. Tony keeps his face schooled as he rests his hands in his lap, swinging his feet as he thinks.
Even someone like him can detect when a moment requires more than his usual joking demeanor.
"It's addictive," he repeats. There is no judgment in his tone. He merely sounds like someone who found another piece to a puzzle and is trying to figure out where it lines up. Tony lifts his head to look over at her, turning her words over in his mind.
"I like you." He purses his lips, brows a little heavy over his eyes. "I think you are intelligent and quick-witted. Your tongue is sharp and you wield your words with skill that would make Shakespeare ask you to rewrite the dialogue of all his characters."
Tony reaches for his Red Bull, taking a sip out of it as he tries to put together more words. How could someone truly describe another?
"You have your own brand of bravery and you can be surprisingly genuine, which is a rare treat in my world. You are creative and you have fantastic spatial skills," he pauses to gesture to the newly reshaped workshop. "I like you."
"My question. What do you think of me?"
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 30, 2024 2:15:58 GMT
Des shifts her gaze back to him as he moves and doesn't look away. She had her one moments of weakness, and she doesn't allow another. He speaks, and it is everything within her not to blush, not to cry, not to react. Des loves compliments- but she has exposed a darker side of herself. As a Mutant she is used to revulsion. So... terribly used to it. Anything she can do that could be seen as negative is usually met with disgust. It is why she keeps so much secret, and will continue to do so. No one will ever understand. Even if she hopes otherwise.
"You're sweeter than anyone gives you credit for," Des starts, answering his question. She still has not looked away from him. "You are determined and resilient. More importantly, you are open to being wrong and making the corrections needed to rectify that. You want to learn, even if it isn't something you have a great deal of expertise, or even an interest in. I like that. I can work with it.
"... Could I see us as friends? Yes. I like your arrogance. Hell, I could drink it every morning after waking up to take on the day," Des says, letting herself go with what she has to say for once. Why not let go? While his money is nice... very, very nice... it isn't what she needs. She does, however, care if he runs his mouth. But...
Mutually assured destruction. If he talks... she will. How freeing.
"I don't have flowery words like you... well, I do, but I want to speak to you in your language... I have facts. Which I find strange, but not too strange given your body count... What I am trying to say is... Mr. Stark, I have a high opinion of you. I want to work with you, I want to spend informal time together, and I am invested in your continued survival past the money you are paying me to have."
Des feels good about that. She rolls her shoulders. "Tell me your darkest secret."
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 30, 2024 2:28:25 GMT
Tony keeps her gaze through it all, equal parts curious and attentive. He takes her thoughts and tries to align them with what he knows of himself. They don't quite fit. Perhaps she sees something he does not recongize for what it is? Something he may have mislabeled under the weight of his life.
"Ms. Allard," he starts through a slow-growing curl to his lips. "I'm sure I have more than enough arrogance to fuel your mornings going forward. You'll have to be here to recieve it, however."
The can rolls between his hands, the cool metal feeling good on his bare skin. The blue of the Red Bull makes that of his fingertips just a little less noticeable.
"By the rules of your own game, you failed to ask a question." He looks so comfortable, so assured up on the countertop. Tony doesn't look like the sickly man he is. No, he is very much the king of his castle. His next words are smooth and heavy with something a shade "Ask me, Ms. Allard."
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 30, 2024 2:43:37 GMT
Des can feel his doubt at her words. What does she care? The rules are she has to be truthful- that is her truth. She rolls her eyes at him, trying to get him to see his own absurdity. He got her honesty. Does he really think she is a poor judge of character?
"Then here I shall stay, Mr. Stark. Everyone I know shall ask me what my secret is, and I shall tell them is you," she says, dry as the desert.
Des smiles, so very wide. "I did say I am a cheat, Mr. Stark," she says, happy as peaches. She had warned him, and she will continue to play the loopholes, as long as he will allow her to. She has a few other cards up her sleeve. There is a tone to him, a warning. She wants something she can regret, too.
"Fine, fine, what is your darkest secret, Mr. Stark?"
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 30, 2024 3:20:40 GMT
"Then here you shall stay, Ms. Allard," he replies, teasing despite himself.
The smile he offers at the sight of her own is a reflex and it only grows when he realizes that. The last thing he expected was to find her smile infectious. That little flicker of joy is blown out when she re-asks her question.
His vans tip-tap against the cabinets as he thinks and a muscle bounces along his jaw. The minutes drag by before he breaks eye contact with Des, dropping his gaze to the can in his hands and he takes a short breath.
"I wish I was anyone else. People look at me and they see a genius. I am. They see a millionaire, which I am. They see someone who has squandered so many opportunities and, that, I am." He rolls the can between his hands again despite it being empty. Having something to do with his hands seems to help him think. "I often think about all the times I could have and should have died. I look at the world and I think 'Damn, this place could have been better without me.'"
"I should have died when my parents had that accident. I should have died when my car flipped when I was 19. I should have died when I was overseas, but a man who was better than I am died for me instead," Tony says simply, keeping his tone flat and his body otherwise loose. "I've been trying to do what is better, but it is always one step forward and three steps back. Before I reached out to you, I had thought about just letting it all end. Get myself in a fight I knew I couldn't win."
"But, here we are. Just another thing to add to the long list of descriptors for Tony Stark. I hate myself more often than not and yet I still cling to the hope that I can live to see another morning." Tony bows his head by the end of it all, not looking at Des. His voice carries anyway.
"What is your favorite thing to drink? Outside of my arrogance."
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 31, 2024 15:50:01 GMT
Yes... Des feels that happiness, and more importantly, she feels it snuff out at her question. She will have to reward him, somehow. Make him smile again. Something about it- the haunted man deserves more moments like that. It will help him with his work, after all. This is just a job.
Even Des can tell if she isn't careful, a line will get very quickly blurred. She needs to wait until he isn't dying for that to be crossed. Dying is not a good look on him, gross. But- she also knows that a little flirtation, a little carrot to keep him going... isn't a bad thing. It works for artists more, a part of her job she enjoys and has no reservations over. Perhaps that is what he needs, too. Humans are so... simple, sometimes.
Then... he proves that thought so very wrong.
Des listens deeply, digesting his words slowly. There are many notes of survivor's guilt, here, from his parents to this better man... She is no stranger to the melancholic, but she hadn't expected it here. Des isn't here to be his therapist. Does she respond, or... let it lie? She opts for a middle ground, and simply nods, solemn. "Here is to adding to that list," she murmurs.
Des takes his new question as the distraction it is. "Believe it or not... hot chocolate. I have been around the world, and wherever I go, I take the time to find their best hot chocolate. Scandinavia is, by far, my favorite, but there is an honorable mention to Ghana- they put a bit of rum in it," she says with a wide grin. "Among other things," she adds with a shrug.
She needs to ask him something lighter- that reward from before. "What is your greatest accomplishment?"
|
|
|
Post by Nomz on Aug 31, 2024 20:46:27 GMT
Tony bobs his head once, acknowledging her words before casting his eyes to the side. They focus on the collection of drinks he brought down with them. Not caring to get up properly, Tony leans sideways across the counter and reaches out as far as he can. Calloused fingertips catch the edge of the closest can. It falls over and rolls, and Tony pulls it closer.
This motion further opens up his undone button-down, revealing more of his arc reactor. Slithering out from it are blue-green veins, throbbing painfully under his skin. Tony pushes himself back up into a sitting position as Des talks about hot chocolate. It isn't what he expected from her, but he supposes that just makes it all the more interesting.
"Spicy hot chocolate is the best if you're going to make any version of it. Though, I did have this one pretty good boozy one. They used vodka and peppermint Schnapps with some type of liquor-based whipped cream," he says easily, that little smirk sliding into place. He knows he just offered information without being asked and he wonders if Des will try to wring more out of him now.
Her question is surprising and he looks up at her for a moment, trying to understand why she would ask it. His fingers drum along the side of the new can as he considers all of his accomplishments. The Red Bull hisses as he pops the tab, but he doesn't drink it just yet.
"I know how to play "Raindrop" like the back of my hand." Tony exhales through his nose, smirk shifting to a fond smile and his gaze falls to the floor between them. "My mother loved the piano. Had a big old gal in her own little study, far enough away from my father that he couldn't hear her playing. I wanted to surprise her and, so, while she and my father were out and about, I kept sneaking into her study to learn."
His grin lifts, showing a few teeth, and crinkles form around his eyes. "It was a piece I had heard her play over and over. I think it was a comfort piece. Anyways, I still remember the pride in her voice when I played it for her. I-" He pauses and the smile slips a little, his brow furrowing as he tries to remember. "I don't remember what she said or how her voice sounded. I just remember the feeling and how happy I was. Proud."
"Alright, I've been too kind. What is something you regret?"
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Aug 31, 2024 23:53:42 GMT
Des watches with faint amusement as the Great and Intelligent Tony Stark pathetically reaches over to get a Red Bull he could get so much easier if he just stood for a moment. Sure, she understands standing isn't likely something he can do with the whole... exhausted and dying thing... but damn, if this isn't hilarious. Des has always had a dark sense of humor, you kinda get one after people call for your genocide. This? Hilarious. Amazing. Plus, it gives her a much better view now... Des is not coy in how she looks over his chest. Its to see the progression- nothing more.
"Yes, I have had it. in a couple iterations- though my favorite remains the Aztec way. The burn is... divine," Des says, smiling a little more intimately, like they are sharing something secret, only for them to revel in. "You'll have to make that one for me," she says, something meaningful in her eyes. Yes- they are making plans. Because he is going to make it through this. "Once we are through this, I don't... frequently drink on the job." she says, smirking.
Des isn't sure what she had expected him to say, but this wasn't it. Men like him- well, she's starting to realize there is no other man quite like him. While she likes putting people in boxes, Des is equally pleased with those who simply cannot be relegated to a label. Tony's label is that- Tony. Nothing else. Anything else would be reductive.
"Would you play it for me?" Des asks, a little quiet. "I don't think I know the song," she adds. Des might be able to help him recall the memory better, if he plays it. She also wants to hear him play, see his fingers on the ivory keys of a piano, and she finds herself holding her breath as she tries to imagine it.
Fuck lines, anyways. Blur it. cross over it. Break it.
"Me? Regrets?" Des says, haughtily laughing with a bravado of her own. It doesn't hurt- she has lived her adult life without regrets. Her childhood... before she knew any better... before she had a firmer grasp on right and wrong... That time of her life is littered with regrets like landmarks through her memories.
"I grew up in Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. I was placed there by my family at age ten, shortly after my powers manifested. I was a child, not particularly good at English, and as such acted out a great deal in my youth. My abilities allowed me a lot of... circumventing of punishment. As such... my greatest regret...
"I am not a fighter. Never have been. I don't like it, though I can see the artistry of it, pain and I do not agree. As such, I was always very against the whole... Child Soldier aspect of Xavier's. Yes, we all must fight for our rights, and some of us are given the gifts to do so, and surely that means if we have these gifts it is to protect our fellow mutants!" Des says, mockingly patriotic in her tone briefly. She deflates. "I had a friend, Rain. She was everything I wasn't, which was annoying at first, but she grew on me like I grew on her. Kind... Understanding... Down to earth... Brave. It was her that convinced me to help out more, to learn how to protect myself. But that... turned into protecting others.
"... It was my first mission. Things went... very wrong. Intel was bad, and people were there that were above our pay grade. She promised we would get through this, that good always triumphs over evil... We were in a clever hiding spot together, and I was trying to convince her to stay with me. Our teammates weren't so lucky- they were found. She was brave, and...
".... In situations like that, you learn who you really are. I am a coward, Mr. Stark. I hid. I heard everything. You know the most horrible part? Her best wasn't enough. But... his was. My power helped him kill our team," she murmurs. "That is my greatest regret. Being there. I said they were our teammates- they were hers. I never did anything right by them, not when it mattered."
|
|