I am Iron Man. (![]() ![]() @ 2011-11-01 21:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | felicia hardy/black cat, tony stark/iron man |
WHO: Tony Stark & Felicia Hardy
WHAT: Chatting!
WHEN: Evening.
WHERE: Complex
RATING: PG-13.
Bruce Wayne. Batman. What had he been thinking, exactly, when he had decided to show up at that silly costume party dressed as his comic book opposite? The answer was a lot simpler than Tony Stark would have liked for it to have been. He was a man of many beliefs and opinions ; some of which were admittedly a little more shallow than others. Evasive relationship practices? They lay among those opinions and beliefs, perhaps higher than most others. Tony wasn't going to lie to anyone. He was a get 'em and leave 'em kinda guy. Women were fun. They were the people he chose to spend his time with when he went out and fulfilled that playboy reputation of his. That was it. Nothing deep. Nothing serious. Nothing important. That was why Tony often chose to overpower them with his wit, charm, and sarcasm, so that those women he chose to stand up for the night wouldn't leave anything remarkable behind when he – or, okay, Pepper – kicked them out the front door the next day.
It was a tad different with the woman who took to dressing up as a cat in her free time. Not that Tony ever had any intention of admitting that out loud (no, that'd require a certain amount ritual sacrifice RE: his pride that he wasn't ready to participate in just yet – or ever, really), but he was well aware that there were these niggling feelings building up inside him in relation to her that he didn't really understand.
It was her fault, really, with her shiny hair and bright smile. Just like it was her fault that he went to that stupid party, all dressed up and ready to be social and magnificent, when everything exploded in all their faces.
Hmph.
Exasperated with Lawrence and, furthermore, himself, Tony decided he needed air. He climbed his way up to the roof, knowing that it was usually fairly quiet and comfortable during the evening. He had grown to like being up there, whether it be for his own personal space or because he just wanted to think. To work out some invention or another, to figure out the mechanics of whatever weapon of the week he was looking to piece together for that apocalyptic cause of theirs. The roof was sort of like his new found workspace at home, but less cluttered and far less riddled with expensive technology that Tony knew it would take years for him to replace here.
Which was sort of depressing, really.
What was more depressing, of course, was the adventure that he had endured the night before. He had spent his entire evening running around the city, trying to figure out what had happened to Gotham, his butler, and his costume. All in all, it had been a pretty crappy Halloween.
It was a shame, actually. He could have gotten drunk. Flirted it out with a couple models, lured them back to bed...
Or Felicia. No. Strike that. No Felicia.
Well, maybe...
Tony leaned against the ledge of the roof and looked out onto the streets below. If he didn't know that there was an apocalypse on, he wouldn't have been able to tell. The world was quiet. Normal. It was like nothing was really happening out there, when in reality everything was going on. Everything that ever was and ever would be, all ripping apart beneath their very feet and not one person was looking down.
A friendly reminder as to why Tony disliked this place. See also: people.