Tony Stark (in_extremis) wrote in oh_marvelous, @ 2009-10-05 18:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | z: om1: !complete, z: om1: affiliation: avengers, z: om1: affiliation: s.h.i.e.l.d., z: om1: character: tony stark, z: om1: location: new york, z: om1: past character: elektra natchios |
Apostasy
Characters: Tony Stark vs. Elektra, final round.
Setting: Well, it at least starts at Stark Tower.
Content: It's about time for some blood, isn't it?
Summary: Tony hasn't woken up unsure where he was in a while. Ah, nostalgia.
There was a dull ache in his head and his mouth was dry, but that was nothing new. The ache continued down his back and through one shoulder, twisted awkwardly to lay on one side, his toes touching the floor, his arms trapped between himself and a cushioned couch back behind him. Not really new, either, just a variation on a theme. The rope was a little itchy, though. Tony could swear the frayed yarns were burrowing into his skin. Think, Tony, the first thing you do in this situation is try to remember where you last saw your car keys. That's always important.
Slitting his eye open didn't really help. There was a sea of plum before him, a covered button in the couch cushion, and beyond that the edge of a carpet that might have been grey. A careful breath, and the cushion smelled of smoke, spilt spirits, Jesus, it was like 1999 all over again. Come on, what was the last thing you remember? It wasn't gin, at least Tony had that. It was that S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that had walked with him through the construction of the Main Tower, slipping away after the press conference, oh christ he had told them he was Iron Man. His eye squeezed shut. What was it, why that agent's face in his head? He had smirked and about six men in yellow construction hats descended on him. He didn't stand a chance.
Well, he still had the gin thing.
Carefully, he tried wiggling his fingers, feeling the rope definitely pricking into his skin. There must have been a tick in his face, because someone said, "Welcome back, Iron Man."
"I need to piss," Tony replied, muffled against the cushion, and in response a large hand grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him up to a sitting position just to smack him back down. Efficient.
"That felt better than I thought it would." Tony's tongue was touching the corner of his mouth, tasting blood and dragging it across his lip. He stayed down, twisted and staring across that plum coloured cushion to the feet of his tormentor, shoes scuffed at the toes and blackened at the heel. He couldn't access his satellites. He couldn't access his phone. He didn't know where he was. That definitely wasn't rope.