15. surprise.well, bigger surprise to come. :D!disasterfollowsJuly 31 2012, 23:58:38 UTC
Art blinks hard as she finds herself--not at all where she expected to be. Well, who could ever say when Doom Jr was involved, but--still. She hadn't been in, well, it looks like Uncle Tony's workshop, but it's missing a few of the things she's come to consider standard--whatever it was, she hadn't been there a second go. She'd been standing right next to Anna near a window, watching their parents and the junior avengers fight the asshole when there had been an impressive flash of light and then, well, here.
Which brought up a good point. "Anna?" Art pushed herself up off the ground and dusted her jeans, looking around for the other girl. She'd been a little far back, maybe she hadn't got the full blast?
And then her attention was caught by the guy on the other side of the warehouse seemingly buried in the middle of the Iron Man armor--but one that looks old. Unlike the guy doing the work. "Uncle Tony? What the hell happened to you?"
Tony's hunched over a workbench, screwdriver in hand, carefully disassembling the clearly damaged left gauntlet of the armor. There's a corresponding bandage wrapped around his left forearm - stupid Loki and his stupid crazy magical throwing knives - but it doesn't seem to be in any way slowing him down.
Fully immersed in the work he's doing on the armor, it takes him a moment to respond to the sound of his name; he looks up, blinking distractedly, vaguely expecting to see Darcy or someone at the sound of a young female voice. Except he's pretty sure he's never seen this girl in his life, and- wait, what did she just call him? He comes abruptly to his feet. "Who the hell are you?" he demands, eyeing her suspiciously. "How did you get in here?"
Art arches an eyebrow as Tony looks up--and he really doesn't look like himself. Hell, he looks like himself in a college yearbook or something. Her arms cross over her chest as he demands to know who she is, in a way that Tony might find very familiar--except it's seen on a certain archer and not an obviously teenage girl.
"Don't even," She starts, "You know who I am. But I'm not sure how I got down here. Anna's not here is she?"
And then, as she looks at him, tilting her head and studying his face. "Seriously, did Doom hit you with a deaging ray or something and you're hiding down here so no one figures it out?"
He's still sure he's never seen the kid before, but there's something naggingly familiar about her body language. "Who the hell is Anna?" he responds automatically. It's half a rhetorical question. "Jarvis!" he says plaintively, staring accusingly at the ceiling.
"The young lady did not arrive though the door," the AI answers smoothly, "Based on security footage and local readings, it appears that her arrival coincided with a large surge of energy and an emission of unrecognized particles."
Tony's brow furrows, and he shoots the interloper a look that's now more speculative than suspicious. "Huh," he says eloquently.
The first thing that throws Art is the fact that Tony's actually asking who Anna is like he doesn't know, but the second thing that really stops her short is the fact that Tony is actually talking to JARVIS. Instead of just--thinking at him or whatever it is that he does when he controls the whole tower with his mind.
"Anna?" She asks, in disbelief, though now she's feeling like maybe things aren't at all what she thought. This--really doesn't seem like her Tony.
"Anna--she's," Her eyes narrow and she looks over at him, "She's your daughter?"
Tony quirks an eyebrow at her and gives a theatrically disappointed sigh. And that had shown some promise of being interesting for a moment there. "Okay, nice try, points for creativity, but...no." This had better not be another paternity claim debacle. He knows he's got a reputation, but he's not that stupid. Anyway, what was she, like thirteen? "There are definitely no stray Stark kids running around. Talk to the tabloids if you like, but they've heard it all before."
Of course that still leaves the problem of how she got in here in the first place. Getting into the Tower at all is a feat, and even once you're in the workshop isn't exactly accessible. "Give me the readings," he tells the ceiling, crossing the workshop as graphs and models spring into being in the air around him and Jarvis launches into a recital of facts and figures. He listens with half an ear, still watching the girl with wary curiosity. "So who are you anyway?"
Art doesn't deal well with being put in situations that she doesn't understand. She's not the brainiac like Anna, but she's also not an idiot, but every now and again she gets thrown in a place where she very desperately wants her best friend. Anna would know what the ramble jumblings coming out of JARVIS meant. She'd be able to look at this situation and probably be able to figure out what, exactly, happened.
As it is, Tony is busy denying the fact that he has a kid, and she's moving right from confusion into anger, because well--being angry is a whole lot better than being scared. And she's sixteen. Jerk.
"She's not some stray Stark," Art retorts, unamused, because, well, nobody gets to talk shit about Anna, not even some bastardized version of her father, "She's your kid. Well, yours and Peppers, but when she's doing something ridiculous, she's definitely yours." Or at least, that's what Pepper always said to everyone's great amusement
( ... )
He knows he should probably be doing something more constructive than staring blankly, but seriously, that's all he's got right now. What the hell even is this? And why is it his problem? Although when you put it like that, this really does seem like the sort of thing he should be alerting people about, because the way the kid is talking this is starting to sound like a particularly weird episode of Star Trek.
He considers her thoughtfully for a moment before saying evenly, "Hey Jarvis, why don't you let Legolas know we've got a kid down here who apparently belongs to him."
It takes Clint a solid ten minutes to get down to Tony's location, mostly because he'd been right in the middle of a workout when JARVIS had popped up and informed him that Tony had requested his presence immediately to deal with an unexpected situation in the workshop.
But, he's whistling by the time he breezes it, rubbing a towel over his head that's still wet from the shower he'd hurried through before heading down, and he looks over at Tony and cocks an eyebrow.
"Dude, you don't need to use JARVIS for the booty call. You could totally just shoot a text."
Tony raises an eyebrow in return. "Down boy," he replies with a smirk, "We've got company." He points at the girl who'd appeared in the workshop and asks, "Is this yours?"
So it's weird when she looks at Tony and sees someone who is nearly seventeen years younger than he should be but it's got nothing on what it's like when her dad walks in the door.
She's almost stunned enough by his appearance to miss the blatant innuendo that her dad throws out--almost, but not quite and she feels for a second like she might have thrown up in the back of her mouth. Her dad and Tony? Oh god, that's something she never ever needed to have in her head. Oh, gross.
Art debates the merits of burying her face in her hands and just turning tail and running when Tony's question catches her up short and she looks over at the newcomer and tries not to look hopeful. Surely he'll recognize her.
It's a surprise when Tony stops him, because what other issue in the workshop could need his attention--really, Tony needed to get some better code words here--but he turns his attention to the interloper as Tony directs him to.
His "Mine?" comes out at exactly the same time as the kid's 'Dad?' and his eyebrows just about meet his hairline.
"Woah, no," He starts, raising his hands up, "I think you're confused. I'm not anyone's Dad. Not that I'm aware of, and I think someone would have let me know if I was. You're what, like--fourteen? eighteen? I definitely wasn't having sex with random women without protect when I was twenty. Sorry kid."
It never ceases to amaze, Art's ability to get her into the most bizarre situations. She is squarely blaming Art for this one: Art was the one who'd convinced her it couldn't possibly do any harm to watch the fight from the windows of the Tower. And yes, it could be argued that by now she should know better than to listen to Art, but she knows better than anyone that trying to talk Art out of something Art is determined to do is basically impossible. Damage limitation is usually the only viable strategy.
So it is that she finds herself staggering back a few steps, shaking her head to clear the ringing in her ears, the afterimages of a blinding light seared into her eyes. She's in- well, at a glance it looks like her dad's workshop, but the little details that are all wrong quickly begin to leap out at her. And that's to say nothing of the people. She grabs gratefully onto Art's arm. "What the fuck."
It's an entirely different thing being in a strange place and having your Uncle not recognize you, and having your Dad deny he's ever even heard of you. It's that, more than the strangeness that is Tony talking to JARVIS and a few big components missing from his lab that convinces her she's in the wrong here instead of them.
She and her dad might fight every now and again, but it was mostly because they were too similar, and there wasn't ever a time when he denied her.
There's a moment where she's not entirely sure what she's feeling--hurt, a bit of terror, anger, confusion and a thousand other things--and she feels like she might just lose it a little when Anna is grabbing her arm. Propping right the fuck out of no where and just--being her glorious self.
"Anna!" She all but yells, wrapping the other girl up in a hug that's a hair too tight. It may not be fixed now, but they've got a damn better chance the two of them together than they ever did apart. "Oh thank god--"
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Which brought up a good point. "Anna?" Art pushed herself up off the ground and dusted her jeans, looking around for the other girl. She'd been a little far back, maybe she hadn't got the full blast?
And then her attention was caught by the guy on the other side of the warehouse seemingly buried in the middle of the Iron Man armor--but one that looks old. Unlike the guy doing the work. "Uncle Tony? What the hell happened to you?"
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Fully immersed in the work he's doing on the armor, it takes him a moment to respond to the sound of his name; he looks up, blinking distractedly, vaguely expecting to see Darcy or someone at the sound of a young female voice. Except he's pretty sure he's never seen this girl in his life, and- wait, what did she just call him? He comes abruptly to his feet. "Who the hell are you?" he demands, eyeing her suspiciously. "How did you get in here?"
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"Don't even," She starts, "You know who I am. But I'm not sure how I got down here. Anna's not here is she?"
And then, as she looks at him, tilting her head and studying his face. "Seriously, did Doom hit you with a deaging ray or something and you're hiding down here so no one figures it out?"
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"The young lady did not arrive though the door," the AI answers smoothly, "Based on security footage and local readings, it appears that her arrival coincided with a large surge of energy and an emission of unrecognized particles."
Tony's brow furrows, and he shoots the interloper a look that's now more speculative than suspicious. "Huh," he says eloquently.
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"Anna?" She asks, in disbelief, though now she's feeling like maybe things aren't at all what she thought. This--really doesn't seem like her Tony.
"Anna--she's," Her eyes narrow and she looks over at him, "She's your daughter?"
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Of course that still leaves the problem of how she got in here in the first place. Getting into the Tower at all is a feat, and even once you're in the workshop isn't exactly accessible. "Give me the readings," he tells the ceiling, crossing the workshop as graphs and models spring into being in the air around him and Jarvis launches into a recital of facts and figures. He listens with half an ear, still watching the girl with wary curiosity. "So who are you anyway?"
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As it is, Tony is busy denying the fact that he has a kid, and she's moving right from confusion into anger, because well--being angry is a whole lot better than being scared. And she's sixteen. Jerk.
"She's not some stray Stark," Art retorts, unamused, because, well, nobody gets to talk shit about Anna, not even some bastardized version of her father, "She's your kid. Well, yours and Peppers, but when she's doing something ridiculous, she's definitely yours." Or at least, that's what Pepper always said to everyone's great amusement ( ... )
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He considers her thoughtfully for a moment before saying evenly, "Hey Jarvis, why don't you let Legolas know we've got a kid down here who apparently belongs to him."
"Of course, sir," Jarvis replies smoothly.
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But, he's whistling by the time he breezes it, rubbing a towel over his head that's still wet from the shower he'd hurried through before heading down, and he looks over at Tony and cocks an eyebrow.
"Dude, you don't need to use JARVIS for the booty call. You could totally just shoot a text."
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She's almost stunned enough by his appearance to miss the blatant innuendo that her dad throws out--almost, but not quite and she feels for a second like she might have thrown up in the back of her mouth. Her dad and Tony? Oh god, that's something she never ever needed to have in her head. Oh, gross.
Art debates the merits of burying her face in her hands and just turning tail and running when Tony's question catches her up short and she looks over at the newcomer and tries not to look hopeful. Surely he'll recognize her.
"Dad?"
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His "Mine?" comes out at exactly the same time as the kid's 'Dad?' and his eyebrows just about meet his hairline.
"Woah, no," He starts, raising his hands up, "I think you're confused. I'm not anyone's Dad. Not that I'm aware of, and I think someone would have let me know if I was. You're what, like--fourteen? eighteen? I definitely wasn't having sex with random women without protect when I was twenty. Sorry kid."
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So it is that she finds herself staggering back a few steps, shaking her head to clear the ringing in her ears, the afterimages of a blinding light seared into her eyes. She's in- well, at a glance it looks like her dad's workshop, but the little details that are all wrong quickly begin to leap out at her. And that's to say nothing of the people. She grabs gratefully onto Art's arm. "What the fuck."
Reply
She and her dad might fight every now and again, but it was mostly because they were too similar, and there wasn't ever a time when he denied her.
There's a moment where she's not entirely sure what she's feeling--hurt, a bit of terror, anger, confusion and a thousand other things--and she feels like she might just lose it a little when Anna is grabbing her arm. Propping right the fuck out of no where and just--being her glorious self.
"Anna!" She all but yells, wrapping the other girl up in a hug that's a hair too tight. It may not be fixed now, but they've got a damn better chance the two of them together than they ever did apart. "Oh thank god--"
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