URI:
   DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       TinyGoliath & MagicNightStar
  HTML https://stonyrp.createaforum.com
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       *****************************************************
   DIR Return to: RP
       *****************************************************
       #Post#: 699--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: MagicNightStar Date: April 24, 2013, 5:05 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: S T E V E ::}[/center]
       [center]Steve can't say he expects less when Tony laughs at an
       awkward pitch, using biting sarcasm to get back at Steve.
       Damnit, he's really messed this all up. But maybe this was just
       Tony being drunk. Maybe he'd wake up the next morning and regret
       it all or something. Steve doesn't want Tony to hate him the
       rest of his life, they could have made great friends. That
       doesn't seem like its going to happen, though, as Tony calls him
       an ass-hole before slamming the door in his face. Alright, yeah,
       he has really f*cked this up, but he didn't know that would
       would be interested in him... even if it would have been just a
       one-night thing. Sh*t, Steve felt like an ass.
       He stands outside Tony's door for awhile, debating whether or
       not he should try to get the man to open the door. He doesn't
       want things to end like this. It was the guy's birthday and this
       whole meeting thing had meant a lot to Rhodey and Bucky. He
       doesn't want this to be one of those things he looks back on
       years later and regrets. Steve hates regrets. He had more
       regrets than he could count that are too late to fix... like
       Peggy, but he's not to keen on thinking about her right now
       after just pissing off a man who had tried to get him to sleep
       with him.
       "Tony?" Steve tries, deciding it was the best idea as he knocked
       on the door. "Tony, come on, open up, I'm sorry!"" he continues,
       sounding deeply apologetic. He really, really hadn't met to hurt
       Tony's feelings like that, and the last time he saw him was when
       the mad looked like a kicked puppy or kitten of sorts. That's
       the worst last impression if he ever heard or seen one.[/center]
       #Post#: 701--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: TinyGoliath Date: April 24, 2013, 5:46 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: T O N Y ::}
       [Size=10pt]For five seconds (he counts), Tony leans his forehead
       against the door, closes his eyes, and bites back a scream,
       letting anger surge through him, letting himself get hopelessly
       lost in it. He times himself, though, and when that time is up,
       his eyes open, and he leans back, scowling, though contained,
       and stores that anger away from later -- no use dealing with it
       now, with Steve probably still right outside the door.
       Tony's name is called, apologies made through the thin door that
       somebody could probably just kick right through if they wanted
       to, and Tony, not about to explode, but definitely simmering,
       barks back a sharp reply, trying not to shout. "Sorry for
       what?!" he nearly shouts, "For not liking dick?! You know what
       Steve, it's fine, why don't you just forget it ever happened?!"
       He slams the side of his fist against the door on the last word,
       for extra emphasis. "Take a f*cking walk, douche-bag! F*ck you!"
       he adds, because it's just not enough without his favorite four
       letter word, is it?[/size][/center]
       #Post#: 703--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: MagicNightStar Date: April 24, 2013, 7:01 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: S T E V E ::}[/center]
       [center]Steve almost doesn't expect an answer to come ringing
       through the door, but, thankfully-but-unfortunately, one does.
       He listens as Tony throws low blows, asking what he was sorry
       about, making comments about his heterosexuality, bringing up
       the words Steve had said about a minute ago, making him feel
       worse as Tony slammed his fist on the door. Right, he probably
       shouldn't have asked to just forget everything. It's not like
       Steve could forget, anyways, I mean, that was his first time
       being kissed by a man. Even if he did want to forget, he'd
       always remember how it felt to have Tony's goatee scrapping
       against his cheeks and his breathy words of want. Then Tony
       proceeds to cuss him out, and Steve doesn't even think twice
       about replying to Tony before he's already walking away.
       Steve walks back to the elevator, pressing the 'down' button
       with a good amount of force, and waits till it dings open before
       he steps inside, pressing the button for the lobby. That had
       been awkward and awful. Everything had been going so nicely
       until they got here. Damnit, he was such an idiot for not
       noticing the look in Tony's eyes, and damnit, because he was
       also an idiot for not noticing his own actions and how they
       could be taken differently. This is what you get when you try to
       make Steve Rogers be friendly; unintentional flirting.
       The walk home was fairly uneventful. Steve had passed many
       hobos, a few drag queens, and a handful of drunks. By the time
       he reaches home, unlocking and opening his front door, he no
       longer felt that little buzz the alcohol from earlier had given
       him. He closes the door behind him, frowning as he locked it
       back up, and then makes his way into the living room to see
       Bucky passed out on the couch. Oh yeah, Bucky was staying over.
       Great. He sighs to himself before making his way up the stairs
       of his large house, going into his mostly-red bedroom and
       collapsing onto his red silk sheets above his mattress, wanting
       to go to sleep with no more thoughts of Tony. Somehow he figures
       that that's just not going to happen.[/center]
       #Post#: 706--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: TinyGoliath Date: April 24, 2013, 7:56 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: T O N Y ::}
       [Size=10pt]Tony waits for several minutes. It remains silent
       outside the door, and eventually Tony unlocks it, peeking
       outside to sure sure Steve is really and truly gone. He probably
       woke the people above and below him, but he could honestly care
       less. Steve was an ass, okay, seriously, what right does he
       have, bringing up the past like that? It wasn't his past--
       argues his voice of reason, with is quickly crushed underneath
       his booze and anger. Steve's an ass, and Tony's done with him,
       and he's going to get back at him for that, he is.
       "Mrrow."
       "Oh, f*ck no," Tony growls, shaking his head as he walks over to
       his desk. "No, look, I'm too drunk for this, do you hear me? Go
       away."
       The big cat on the windowsill blinks big, yellow, moony eyes at
       him. "Mrrrow," it says again, pawing insistently at the glass,
       it's pink nose pressed up against it.
       "No!" Tony yells, leaning down and smacking a hand onto the
       glass, right in front of the animal's nose. "No, okay?! You
       aren't coming in tonight! Go home, Dummy!" He bangs on the glass
       again several times. The cat blinks, it's ears flicking to and
       fro, and curls it's bushy tail around its feet.
       "Mrooowr?"
       "F*ck! God, I hate you so f*cking much." Tony scowls at the cat,
       apparently deemed Dummy, and sits down at his computer, shaking
       his head. He ignores the noises that the cat continues to make,
       pawing at the glass like it's paw is gravitated to it, or
       something. He opens up one of the more useful programs (the one
       he designed, that one he, of course, makes the most use out of)
       and a Web browser in another. He's drunk. He shouldn't be doing
       this when he's drunk. But he angry now.
       It takes him all of thirty minutes to hack into Steve's bank
       account. He neglects to wipe his trail as thoroughly as he
       should, but he's drunk, have I mentioned he's drunk, and he just
       really could hardly give a sh*t. He doesn't take a lot -- five
       hundred dollars, but then, he's not here for so much as the
       money as he is for the revenge. He works quickly, disabling
       access and leaving Steve a note as well (< xoxo, T &#9829; >).
       This way, every time Steve tries to open his bank account, be it
       online or ATM, the only thing he's getting is a popup with
       Tony's little love note. This is not a good idea. This is so
       easily traceable, and he is in so much trouble, but he's drunk
       and he doesn't caaare.
       "Mrooooooowr!"
       "Oh my god," Tony groans, sliding the window open like an
       afterthought as he closes down his program. "Fine, you dumb
       cat." Dummy hops off the sill and onto the the desk, curling up
       right on Tony's keyboard. Well, good thing he wasn't doing
       anything important. He scowls at the animal in front of him,
       scratching it in between its ears before he gets up. "Look, you
       little f*cker, I'm going to go puke and then go to bed. If there
       is anything dead in this apartment when I wake up, I'll kill
       you, I swear to god."
       Dummy just purrs on, already asleep.[/size][/center]
       #Post#: 708--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: MagicNightStar Date: April 24, 2013, 10:17 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: S T E V E ::}[/center]
       [center]Steve wakes up the next morning, still wearing his suit
       and not remembering falling asleep in the first place. Dear god,
       what time was it? How long had he been sleeping? His eyes felt
       heavy as he opened them, blinking as he adjusted to the light.
       He didn't even have a hangover, thank goodness. Sadly, he
       probably can't say the same for everyone else... especially
       Tony.
       Tony....
       Oh god.
       "Morning, Sleeping Beauty!" comes a cheerful voice from his
       doorway. Steve turns his his head to see Bucky standing there,
       holding two mugs of coffee. "I made lots and lots of coffee.
       Don't worry, I've already had four cups, and my hangover was
       crushed about four hours ago," says Bucky as he walks into
       Steve's room and hands him his cup of black coffee.
       Steve accepts the coffee, sitting up wide-eyed. "You got up four
       hours ago? What time is it?"
       "Chill, chill, it's only eight o' clock. I woke up early cause I
       had to hurl and then, you know, drink my handover away with cups
       of joe."
       Steve rolls his eyes and sips his coffee, remaining pretty
       quite. Bucky notices this, and starts to stare at him with a
       raised brow. "What 'cha got on the mind? Did you and Tony have
       fun playing video games?" Oh right, Bucky had an amazing memory
       after his hangover wears off, remembering just about everything
       that happened when he was drunk. Bucky is so weird.
       Steve sips his coffee again, louder this time, really not
       wanting to talk about last night. Somehow he can swear up and
       down that he can still feel the prickly goatee against his skin,
       rubbing a pink mark there.
       "Dude, can you hear me in there? Ya still with me? How was last
       night?" Bucky asks again, annoyingly slower this time.
       Steve sighs and sets his coffee down on his lap, figuring that
       he'd have to tell Bucky sooner or later. "I followed Tony into
       his apartment, thinking we were going to play video games, but
       instead Tony kissed me and tried to get into my pants," he says,
       talking quickly, not wanting to relive things right after he
       wakes up.
       Bucky stays quiet for a moment, staring at Steve in what could
       be taken as disbelief before Bucky says, "Told ya."
       "You told me he was bi. Nothing else."
       "Yeah, and when I play the whole, 'hey, he's bi so ya better
       watch out and ya better not cry' card, I mean that he's trying
       to get something that you ain't offering."
       "Something that you aren't offering."
       Bucky groans, taking a giant gulp of his coffee. "Shut up, I
       know you're just doing that cause you're pissed."
       "I am, but I just don't want to talk about it anymore, alright?
       Believe it or not I'm the one who still owes Tony an apology.
       Well, I sort of do. I apologized last night, but he didn't take
       it very well," Steve says, frowning down at his coffee.
       "Steve, the guy was completely wasted, I think he would have
       handled it differently had he not been."
       "Well then I guess I owe him a visit then, huh?" Steve asks,
       question rhetorical as he gets to his feet and makes his way to
       the steps.
       "Wait, wait, you're leaving now?"
       Steve laughs, turning to face a confused Bucky. "No, not right
       now. I have to finish my coffee, check my balance, and change my
       clothes first," he replies, a ghost of a smile on his lips
       before he descends the stairs. He walks into his little office,
       opening the door and letting Bucky close it behind him, sitting
       a the desk that held his laptop. Slowly, he opens it up and
       turns it on, going to his bank's website and logging on to see
       that--
       Wait a second.... He lost 500 dollars?
       Steve clicks on his balance, and, suddenly, a message pops up.
       < xoxo, T &#9829; >
       "Kill him! I'm going to kill him!" Steve starts immediately,
       glaring at the message. Tony had stolen his money. Tony had
       stolen his money! The little bast*rd just went online, hacked
       him, and stole some of his money. Sure, 500 dollars wasn't a big
       deal, but it was in these circumstances. Steve was filed with
       one of the best banks in America, and he had gotten hacked.
       "Whoa, that's not good," Bucky points out as he leans over Steve
       shoulder to see what all the hub-bub was about.
       "You think?" Steve growls, exiting to the Google search bar and
       his fingers start to type.
       "Whoa, whoa, hey, hey, man, what are you doing?"
       "Google searching Tony Stark. Why? Is that a problem?" Steve
       asks bitterly, needing to find out exactly who this guy is. He
       was definitely not a banker. He wouldn't be stealing from Steve
       if he was.
       "Uh, yeah, that is a bad idea, actually. Steve, I uh-- Steve,
       come on-- No, no, not that link, that's not hi--"
       "Got 'em," Steve says with a victorious smirk, clicking on the
       article and looking at the headline.
       Missing Person Report: Anthony Edward Stark
       Wait a second.... What?
       Steve looks at the picture to see a kid about fourteen or
       fifth-teen, and Steve wonders for a few seconds if he did get
       the wrong link, but as he looked at the kids eyes, he knew there
       was no mistaking it -- that was their Tony.[/center]
       #Post#: 710--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: TinyGoliath Date: April 25, 2013, 2:16 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: T O N Y ::}
       [Size=10pt]Tony wakes up feeling like death.
       [B]"Uggh, kill me [I]now[/I],"[/b] he groans, throwing an arm
       over his eyes. Even though it blocks the sunlight streaming in
       through the curtains, it jars his head a little and makes him
       wince. [B]"If there is a god, please, show me mercy."
       "Purr?"[/b] Dummy chirps, and drops a dead bird on Tony's
       pillow.
       [B]"GAH! You f*cking cat, I [I]hate[/I] you!"[/b] Dummy flees
       from the room, tail puffed up to twice its size as he narrowly
       avoids a flying pillow. Tony collapses back onto the bed and
       continues on being miserable. He tries to remember last night --
       it was his birthday. Hey, he's twenty-one! Now he can drink
       legally! Not that it ever stopped him before, but, you know.
       What else? There had been... shots... and then everything faded
       a little... there was a lot of yelling, and... Steve had...
       wait. Steve. Steve [I]Rogers[/I]. Oh, [I]f*ck[/I].
       Tony lays in bed, feeling... something. Is he guilty? He doesn't
       even know. If he recalls, Steve was kind of being an ass, but he
       was also drunk and Tony's an ass when he's drunk, and doesn't
       really realize it, and thinks everybody else is an ass, instead.
       Ugh. Thinking makes his head hurt. No, scratch that, breathing
       makes his head hurt. [I]Everything[/I] makes his head hurt. He
       rolls over onto his stomach, making grumpy noises the entire
       time, and feels for his phone on the little table beside his
       head.
       < If I asked you to kill me would you do it? > he texts Rhodey,
       and reaches for his sunglasses while he waits for an answer.
       < Never >, Rhodey replies, < I would let you suffer for your
       crimes against humanity. >
       < Some friend you are >
       He gets up, staggering and grimacing with every step. He has a
       dead thing on his pillow. Great. Gingerly, he picks the pillow
       up and carries it out of his room, bringing it to the window and
       dropping the whole thing out. He's not touching that again, much
       less putting his head on it. Tony gets himself a glass of water
       and somehow manages to start a pot of coffee, barely able to
       stand the light even through his shades. He shuffles into the
       bathroom to get rid of his morning breath and wash his face, not
       even waiting for it to warm up before he splashes it against his
       face. It wakes him up, but does nothing for the ache pounding in
       his head. God, this [I]sucks.[/I] He's never getting drunk
       [i]again[/I]. (This is indeed what he thinks every time he gets
       hungover, but he always seems to forget).[/size][/center]
       #Post#: 712--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: MagicNightStar Date: April 25, 2013, 3:46 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: S T E V E ::}[/center]
       [center]"Tony has been on the missing persons list for over
       seven years?"
       "Um... no?"
       Steve looks behind him at Bucky, frowning in a very disappointed
       manner, knowing that Bucky's lying.
       "Oh god, Steve, don't give me that look...."
       Steve's frown deepens and Bucky takes a small step back, looking
       nervous. Now he really had to go see Tony, considering how he's
       got some blackmail in case he needed it to get his money back
       and for Tony to swear never to steal from him again. Then again,
       why's Tony on the missing person's list? What did he run away?
       What was he hiding from? Was he just a thief? Had he killed
       someone? Sold illegal drugs?
       "I should have never told you his last name," Bucky mumbles, not
       meeting Steve's eyes.
       "Nope," Steve replies simply, chugging down the rest of his
       coffee and closing the lid to his laptop.
       "He's probably going to kill me now."
       Steve laughs darkly at that, slipping his laptop into his
       messenger bag before looking over at Bucky, smile on his face
       and mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Not if I get to him
       first."
       Steve sets his laptop in his chair before moving past Bucky,
       going back upstairs and into his closet. He grabbed a dark blue
       button-up, boxers, jeans, and a black belt, throwing off his
       suit and tie and everything else and putting on the fresh
       clothes. Quickly, he goes into the bathroom, brushing his hair
       and teeth. He's p&#7881;ssed, and he hopes to god Bucky's not
       texting Tony to run right now, because that would mean he'd have
       to track Tony down. Which he'd do. Bucky knows this.
       Steve hears as sound coming from his bedroom, and exits the
       bathroom to see Bucky hiding the revolver he kept under his
       pillow, and hiding it under the mattress.
       "What the hell are you doing?" he asks, approaching his best
       friend, fully dressed and ready now.
       Bucky jumps, and quickly slides the revolver back under the
       pillow. "Just though I'd... you know... hide it before you got
       any ideas...."
       "You're crazy," Steve says simply and somewhat fondly, not
       really in the mood for jokes as he marched back downstairs,
       grabbing his laptop that was in his bag and heading to the door.
       "I'm going to Stark's! Stay here as long as you'd like, but
       don't set anything on fire again!"
       "Noted!" Steve hears Bucky call back before he goes out the
       door, shutting and locking it behind him. Tony's apartment isn't
       that far away, so he knows he doesn't need a cab as he walks
       down the streets of Brooklyn, not a lot of people out today. He
       listens to the sound of his own footsteps on the pavement as he
       recalls the way to Tony's, getting closer every second. He keeps
       a firm grip on the strap to his bag, bringing his laptop along
       in case he needed it to show Tony his little discovery. Steve
       wonders briefly if he should turn Tony in, telling them not only
       was he a missing person, but a thief as well. Something was
       telling him no to, though, so he just kept on walking, anger
       fueling his legs more than his blood.
       Eventually, the apartment is in sight, and Steve steps in,
       taking notice of the little doorman at the front. "Good
       morning," he greets the man, walking up to him. "I was wondering
       what floor I might find a Mr. Tony on," Steve says a bit
       awkwardly, not mentioning Tony's name for his sake. The doorman
       looks up, and instantly, his eyes are wide, lowering the book he
       was reading. Steve looked down at the book and saw that, holy
       sh*t, it was his own book.
       "You're.... You're the guy who-- who wrote...." The door man
       lifts the book up for Steve to better seeing, and Steve simply
       nods slowly, feeling as though he didn't have time for this.
       "Uh, yes, that's right, I'm Steve Rogers, but hey, where can I
       find--"
       "I'm a big fan, Mr. Rogers!" the doorman announced, face
       lighting up as he stares adoringly at Steve. "This is the
       forty-second time I've read your book, sir, and I've seen the
       movie sixteen times!"
       Steve stares in surprise at the little doorman with the receding
       brown hair, hardly believing his words. He's seen the move
       sixteen times? It just went out into theaters not too long ago.
       It wasn't even on DVD yet.
       "I went to go see the premiere in London because they get to see
       it before us," the man goes on, and Steve's speechless, not
       exactly knowing how to react. This is why he took pride in being
       a hermit, he was too socially awkward. "I'm Phil, by the way,
       Phil Coulson," says the little guy, sticking a hand out.
       Steve starts to stare at the hand for a few seconds before
       accepting it, shaking the hand firmly and quickly. "It's nice to
       meet you, really, and thanks for, uh, liking my work so much,
       but I really need to find a man named Tony that lives here," he
       tries again, his smile strained.
       "Oh! Right, right! Of course, sir! Sorry, but we don't have
       anyone by the name of Tony hear."
       Of course they f*cking don't.
       "How about Edward?" Steve asks, hesitant. That was Tony's middle
       name, right? That's what the article said, at least, maybe he
       went by that name here.
       Phil smiles, nodding carefully. "Oh yes, floor five. Anything
       else, Mr. Rogers, because I'd literally do anything you want."
       Steve doesn't doubt that, so he just kind of shakes his head and
       thanks Coulson quietly, backing away before hurrying to the
       elevator. He hates this place. If Tony plans on using that money
       for a new house, Steve will let him keep it.
       He finally reaches the floor, the elevator doors part, and Steve
       standing face-to-face with the door that lead to Tony's
       apartment. He'd made it. Quietly and slowly, he walks to the
       front door, figuring how he was going to handle this. The guy
       had sort of been an ass last night, plus he'd stolen some of his
       money, so he wasn't going to take this lightly. He holds his
       hand up and raps on the door loudly. "Tony!" he calls, on the
       verge of yelling to make sure the man could hear him and because
       he was p&#7881;ssed.[/center]
       #Post#: 714--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: TinyGoliath Date: April 25, 2013, 4:28 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: T O N Y ::}
       [Size=10pt]Tony feels grimy -- like his skin still dirty from
       last night, from his mistakes and his actions. He takes a
       shower, washes all that away, and five minutes later gets
       dressed and shaves, drying his hair off roughly. By that time
       the coffee is done, and Tony can take a moment to obsess over
       it, breathing in it's deliciousness, blowing on it so he doesn't
       scald his tongue, like he usually does, anyways. He's still got
       his sunglasses on, so by the time he's sat down at his computer
       he looks a little ridiculous, but, hey, he doesn't care,
       nobody's watching him, he can do whatever he wants. Dummy curls
       around his legs, getting in his way, and Tony frowns while he
       tries to kick him around. The cat, of course, is unaffected.
       "Dumb cat," he mutters, sipping his coffee and staring at his
       monitor. Tony's computer is not a normal computer. It started
       out that way, yes, but then it got boring and Tony wasn't at MIT
       at fourteen for nothing, so he amped it up a little. And then a
       little more. And a little more. And now it's so advanced that
       Tony's built an AI on it, practically made his own language,
       made the interface so suited to him that it probably wouldn't
       make sense to anybody else. It's impossible to hack just on
       complexity alone. It's hooked up to the speakers around the
       house, both his tablets, and his phone. It is the most expensive
       and most valuable thing in the house, by far, and a lot of the
       money Tony's made (stolen) has gone it to it.
       He wipes the trail that he'd left behind from last night, god
       forbid anybody should be skilled enough to track him, and then
       lets his computer sleep, finding a tablet so he can draw up some
       new specs. He needs a new, higher qulaity monitor, and maybe --
       if his mind is foolish enough to let him dream of it --
       holograms. Holograms. Wouldn't that be cool? So Tony squints at
       the screen and uses a touch pen to sketch out components,
       somehow juggling that and his coffee at the same time. It is a
       normal, non-threatening, hungover day in the life of Tony Stark.
       "Tony!"
       Oh.
       Yeah, except for that.
       His headache comes back to him in a rush, beating punishingly
       against his skull, and Tony grimaces while he looks toward the
       door. Was that... no, it couldn't have been. It's probably
       Rhodey. Yeah. Tony sets his tablet down on the coffee table,
       still cradling his mug delicately, and swings the door open at
       he rubs at his tired eyes to reveal--
       Steve.
       It's Steve.
       At the door.
       Tony looks up at him, blinking blearily behind his shades. He is
       going to kill me, Tony thinks.
       Sh*t," he says out loud, and slams the door shut.
       His mind is on immediate panic mode as he looks for a way to
       escape. Nothing, nothing, wait... the window! He flees to it,
       throwing his head out and reeling at the height he's faced with.
       There's not a even a f*cking fire escape! "How the f*ck do you
       even get up here?!" Tony yells at Dummy, who makes a confused
       purrup?, his head tilting. Okay, okay. Dummy jumps out this
       window all the time. And if this damn cat can do it and live,
       then Tony can too. He can't be a baby about it, this is his life
       on the line here. He scrambles up onto the windowsill,
       swallowing. Okay. Now or never.[/size][/center]
       #Post#: 715--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: MagicNightStar Date: April 25, 2013, 5:04 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: S T E V E ::}[/center]
       [center]Steve waits for Tony to get a chance to answer the door,
       tapping his foot on the floor, remaining patient even though his
       body was telling him to just kick down the damn door. It'd be
       easy, but Steve's a fairly patient person, and doesn't want his
       anger to get a complete hold of him. All he has to do is get his
       500 dollars back and then leave. Easy. Much more easy than
       having to sneek onto enemy territory to rescue entire families
       from being killed. In fact, this was probably one of the easiest
       complications Steve's ever come across.
       The door swings open to reveal Tony, standing with fresh clothes
       on, shades, hair all messed up and damp looking, coffee in hand,
       and-- and shaved? Steve swears he feels a little scratch of
       stumble rub against his cheek. Sh*t.
       "Sh*t."
       Oh good, they're on the same page.
       A slams echos through the hall, and Steve if faced with a closed
       door in front of him. Okay, so Tony obviously doesn't want to
       see him right now, has gone to pretty himself up a bit more, or
       knows what's going on. Steve takes the latter. He know's Tony
       probably has an awful hangover, so he decides that he's going
       make as much noise as possible without trying to make it look
       like that's what he's doing. Quickly, he opens the door, and
       glides inside the apartment, looking around until he spots an
       open door. He walks up to that said door, and is met with the
       sight of Tony on a windowsill, looking ready to jump.
       Oh sh*t.
       "Jump, Stark, and I'll tell the world exactly who you are,"
       Steve says quickly, not knowing what else to do as he slides his
       laptop out of his bag, opens it, and shows Tony the article on
       the missing persons list. He waits a second before adding, "Now
       get down." He wasn't going to have Tony running-- or rather
       jumping away from something like this. Tony needed to face him
       like a man... inside his apartment room... away from any
       windows.[/center]
       #Post#: 717--------------------------------------------------
       Re: This Is Not Going To End Well
       By: TinyGoliath Date: April 25, 2013, 6:07 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]{:: T O N Y ::}
       [Size=10pt]Tony takes a deep breath, trying to prepare the
       courage to jump, looking down at the pillow and the dead bird
       that he'd thrown. But right as he's steeling himself, praying
       that he won't die a terrible, terrible, broken death, he hears a
       voice, Steve's voice, in fact, threatening him -- get down, or
       he'll show the world who Tony really is. Tony's spine crawls,
       and he turns his body until his back it leaning against the
       window frame. Steve's holding out a laptop, with a page from the
       missing person's reports on it. Tony. That's Tony, seven years
       younger, seven years richer, seven years unhappier. He stares.
       Objectively, Tony knows that his identity is thinly veiled. He
       uses his middle name for anything official, like renting an
       apartment, and doesn't exactly try to keep who he is a secret.
       All his friends know. But searches have long since stopped for
       him, and he doesn't have many friends, anyways. Thor knows, but
       doesn't care. Bruce and Rhodey and Bucky all know, but they
       wouldn't reveal on their lives that the missing billionaire's
       son was never, in fact, missing. And, honestly, Tony never felt
       like he was. Once he got out of Stark mansion he felt like he'd
       been found. He can't have that taken away from him -- he knows
       what it means for him if everyone finds out where he is.
       "Don't tell anyone," is the first think Tony says, his voice
       bordering on desperate, maybe even hysterical, his panic
       pathetically hidden. "Look, if you want to run me over with your
       fancy car or whatever, fine, just don't-- don't." His eyes can't
       be seen through his sunglasses, but he looks almost scared,
       still huddled on the windowsill. He doesn't look like he's going
       to jump anymore, but his knees are drawn up to his chest and his
       shoulders have curled inwards, like he's protecting
       himself.[/size][/center]
       *****************************************************
   DIR Previous Page
   DIR Next Page