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[Oct. 31st, 2008|22:25 ] |
Logan's not sure why he thinks this guy's a super hero, but he seems to have a recollection of this guy kicking some ass and taking some names. So, he's dressed as this guy known as Captain America. He had to have the bar do a little tweaking on the suit, since the Capt's a little taller than he is.
And, for once, he's not couched in the shadows. He's sitting on a table in the middle of the bar, shield next to him in one of the chairs. He's waiting for someone to bump it so it goes rolling across the floor. It'll happen at some point tonight. He's sure of it. |
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[Oct. 14th, 2008|22:25 ] |
It's rare these days when Tony Stark can go anywhere without an entourage. In addition to the unwanted attention that having disgustingly high piles of cash will bring you, his handlers -- and that's how he referred to them, as "handlers" -- had stepped up his personal guard in the wake of the whole "kidnapping fiasco", meaning that not only was he traveling around with a driver and a secretary, but with four hundred extra pounds of man muscle on either side of him. It'd be flattering if it wasn't so damn annoying.
"Seriously, guys, do you have to follow so close? I feel like my -- my personal bubble's being invaded." He produces a generic waving motion, clearing a good foot and a half between himself and the hired help. "Usually when you follow that close I end up having to pay for drinks. Just -- take a smoke break already, will you? Here, Cubans. Go get yourself some Cuban cigars on me, okay?" He pushed a neat row of bills into the lobster claw of the nearest bodyguard.
"Mister Tony, your partner was pretty clear that we were to stay --"
Tony cuts him off. "Who, Obie? Not my partner. Nice sentiment, but we're not sharing a bathrobe and until we do --" he stops on the threshold of the bar and leans toward the doorway, checking the scene inside "-- tell you what." He descends a few steps onto the gritty street and hands each man another hundred dollar bill. "Go get yourself something better to tail for a while, okay? 'Got an invisible drink burning a hole in my stomach."
"Thank you, Mister Tony."
"Yeah, yeah, everybody's thankful. Get out of here, y'apes. You make me nervous."
With his attache dispatched, Tony Stark pinches the center of his file-neat tie and steps into the bar, ready for a little unscripted action. |
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[Sep. 23rd, 2008|21:17 ] |
Not-so-tall, dark, scruffy mutant hanging out by the back door. Believe it or not, the cigar isn't actually lit this time. He's... just standing there. |
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| Multi-pup post |
[May. 12th, 2008|19:34 ] |
Alex is sitting at a table with a newspaper crossword and a glass of water. On the floor at her feet is a small bundle of little girl desperately attempting to move along the floor on all fours.
Across the table from her is a tired, dark-haired man who frequently goes by the name of Michael. He's not doing much beyond responding with answers to crossword clues when Alex reads them aloud.
Not too far from them is a grouchy-looking man with long sideburns and tufty hair. He's got a beer in one hand and he's rolling a cigar between the fingers of the other. |
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