A Story and A View
Roleplaying Log: A Story and A View
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Tony Stark and Betsy Braddock meet at a party and decide they are the most entertaining things there.

Other Characters Referenced: Point Break, Freddy, Rachel, Steve
IC Date: January 12, 2019
IC Location: NYC
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 12 Jan 2019 06:04
Rating & Warnings:
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

Parties are a thing everywhere, and the rich and powerful of the world must see and be seen. High up in the mighty sky scrappers of New York one more in going on. Why? Who knows. Tony Stark wasn't really paying attention to just why it was, he was more there just to put in an appearance. To make sure those in power knew that he /wasn't/ dead and he /wasn't/ entirely leaving.

He was still there to get in peoples hair and cause scenes. Which he did when he arrived. In his electric car powered by his own clean energy systems that could out drag race most of the supercars in attendance.

Stark does love showing up the old money of the world.

But now he's not in the mess with the rest of the party goers. Instead, after inquiring after a few people, thoroughly scandalizing a half-dozen married women and /nearly/ getting thrown out he has retired to a balcony to look out over the city. A glass of whiskey lazily dangling from his hand as he looks over the city with a slight smirk.

He might miss this view. But he can always find a better one higher up.

* * *

Elizabeth Braddock is one some might consider old money - some of her lineage certainly qualifies. However, the supermodel is doing quite well for herself after her 'mysterious missing period' that everyone is trying to find out where she'd been. Some rags claimed rehab, others that she'd gone religious and on a retreat in Tibet. None of it is true, no one could even come close.

It has only added to her social status, and when one is in the business of being beautiful, being seen at as many high powered parties is only good time investment. So it is she's been mingling here, purple hair down in a riot of waves over a black dress with just the right amount of sex and slink.

She's also dying for some quiet and to get away from one 'trust fund Troy', that she will slip with a ninja's stealth out onto the balcony, a glass of whiskey in her own left hand. She knows she's not alone, of course, even as she moves further out. "Enjoying the view?"

* * *

"Well it /did/ just get quite a bit nicer," Stark's voice is tinged with humor as he cuts his gaze towards his new companion for the view. There is a lazy half-salute from the man in the suit. He's wearing his glasses, but weather they are for show or for function is hard enough to tell. He seems to change them at a whim.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon, Lavender." He adds with a smirk after a moment. "Decided to stick around in this wild and crazy town for a bit have ya? I mean you've seen how parties here can turn out. I swear these are more dangerous than Avengers missions."

A glance back inside. "And three times as boring until the explosions start."

* * *

Betsy gives him a winning smile - not the model smile for the camera, and not quite the warm, intimate smile saved for a handful of people. It's a nice, in between smile, as she steps up alongside him. "Betsy. We've met." She will sip from her glass, looking from him over the city.

"What can I say, I enjoy being bored until things get violent?" She chuckles, swirling the liquor in her glass. "Truth is, parties like this is part of feeding the beast of my career." She glances over at him. "I've a townhouse in Manhattan, keeps me closer to my work."

She will glance over her shoulder, back inside. "So long as I can avoid the self absorbed, self entitled moron in there that I had to practically peel off my arm a while, I can resist the urge to start the violence myself." Violet eyes swing back to him. "I bet Avengers missions are at least interesting."

* * *

"See, the first thing you have to know about me is I forget most peoples names by the time I've finished talking to them. Nicknames though, I can totally remember much better." Stark's explanation holds humor as he turns to lean his side against the balcony this time, giving her his only slightly divided attention. "So…Lady Betsy Braddock, sister of Brian Braddock and supermodel who apparently works out at some kind of ninja school becomes…Lavender." A pause. "For now. I might think of something better later."

"But please, feel free to join me. I can't let you get thrown back to the boring wolves and morons in there. What kind of person would I be then."

As she glances back towards him though he has to laugh. "Sometimes? Sometimes they are just a lot of waiting. Which is usually when I make fun of Steve at least till the action starts." A pause. "I've never been really big on plans of attacks, but man he loves them."

* * *

"Lavender is the name of an insipid girl at a British private school, with a sister named Rose, or Posey." Betsy counters, sounding both dry and amused. "I work out at some kind on ninja school? Is that the latest rumor about where I've been for the last couple years?" She laughs, head tipping back just a bit.

"Well, I might consider throwing myself off the balcony, than be thrown back in there where that boring blonde boy whose parents spent too much whitening his teeth could find me."

"I've met him, once. He was out with Thor, and there were several… large, blue men that wanted to harm the big blonde. He didn't have time to plan much, but he made good use of a hot dog vendor's umbrella." She grins, head tilting just a bit. "He's very… spry, considering I hear he has a bit of a stick up his ass."

* * *

"Who Steve? Naw, he's a Boy Scout. He just has very specific ideas of right and wrong." Stark replies with an easy chuckle. "Me? I'm more flexible. Though I'm pretty sure I still don't trust SHIELD further than I can throw a helicarrier." A beatpause. "Without a suit, I /think/ I could frisbee one pretty far in the Dragon Buster."

Because of /course/ he has a suit that can throw an aircraft carrier.

"As for the ninja thing…well…there are about hundred rumors I just picked one out of a hat. Though to keep legs like that you have to be doing something."

Still no comment on if he'll keep using Lavender or not.

"Also people always want to harm Point Break, it is a occupational hazard of being a god I think. Or an Avenger. Or just having hair that is just that perfect. Who knows, I haven't run all the tests on it."

* * *

"Oh? Flexible, are you?" She'll almost purr. "Into yoga, or something?" She can't quite help flirting with him, eyes continuing the flirtation over the rim of her glass as she sips whiskey. "I am not familiar with SHIELD, so I will reserve judgment myself."

She will extend one leg out to the side, head turning to look down at the long, stocking clad limb. "You do know walking in heels all the time is a form of exercise. It tones and tightens." There's a teasing look from under lashes.

"Point Break? I can see where you get that. He does sort of look like a big, blond, dumb surfer." She chuckles. "They were definitely after him in his case because he was a god type." She nods. "So tell me, what's the field test to become an Avenger?"

* * *

"You have no idea," Stark replies with a wicked grin. "Play your cards right and you might find out. But yeah, sure, lets go with yoga." Flirting is something he understands, enjoys, and seems to respond to. Its a thing with Stark. He does have a reputation that way. Though his reputation veers sharply into the one-night-stand territory.

For a man though who has lived though multiple near-death moments in the past few moments he actually…does seem to look up to the boast. Fit as any athlete, and the grey that she might have seen in his hair from pictures on the covers of magazines must have been an affection since it isn't there now. Either that or he's vain enough to dye it…which…would fit the bill really.

"Walking in heels does all sorts of things right." He agrees though with her statement before quirking up an eyebrow at the question. "Well there isn't really a set /test/. I look at people, see what they can do, if I think they are a good fit I invite them to tag along for a mission or two. Saving the world, being a diety, being frozen in time, the ability to make the laws and science bend to your whim…all those help though."

* * *

"You wouldn't want to play cards with me, Stark. You'd lose your shirt.." There's a wicked smile with that, face full of mischief. "Of course, that may be your intent all along." She'll wink at him with another throaty chuckle, fully enjoying the much more entertaining company.

She will waggle her brows at his comment that walking in heels does all sorts right, smirking as she takes a tiny step closer. "The trick is to file just the barest bit off one heel. It's amazing how little you need to take off to really give your hips that sway men seem to love so much."

She hmms, looking down into her whiskey glass as she seems to ponder. "Well, I've not yet saved the world, I'm certainly not a goddess despite the lavish praise of some that would claim I am… never been frozen in time.. I have done some physics bending. " She'll look up at him, a sip of whiskey taken. "I can, however, fly without a suit."

* * *

"That would be the objective of that sort of thing yes," Stark agrees with her assessment as he lifts his glass to take a long pull of his own drink. It is when she starts to explain the secrets of the heels that he holds up one hand. "No no, don't tell me."

His eyes dance with an amused look, his posture entirely relaxed. Perhaps its the liquer, perhaps the company, perhaps its just himself. Always relaxed looking, but with a mind that never stops moving. Ever.

It gives telepaths fits.

"Its like a magic trick, you can't explain the trick to me because it ruins the fun. You just have to let me enjoy it. Like how women can keep towels to stay up or do that flippy thing with the hair and a towel after they shower…"

He shakes his head.

"…that is /true/ magic. I sware. I can't ever make a suit to reproduce that." A pause. "I mean I could but I wouldn't want to. I can make a suit to do just about everything."

The man can't help but chcukle as she comments about flying. "Oh /can/ you now? Care to give me a demonstration? You're going to say flying first class aren't you?"

* * *

It might give some a fit, but as her own mind rarely stops these days… she might risk it. She laughs, finishing her whiskey as he's talking about towels and the hair flip. "Spoken like a man who truly loves women. Well done."

She will move to set her glass aside, humming to herself for the barest of moments. "I do have to admit there is something about the supposed fairer sex that does hold a bit of magic and mystique, compared to men. I love men, but women.. their skin is softer, they generally smell nicer, they've got all these great curves…" She will turn to look at him again. "So I understand your appreciation, never fear. Even as a woman, I find some things mysterious about other women."

Both brows lift, her head tipping a bit to the side. "While I do enjoy flying first class, or on a private jet, I find your lack of faith disturbing." Her hand will reach out, and unless Tony has something to stop telekinesis, he will find himself dangling several inches too high to touch his feet to the solid floor of the balcony - power and pop culture. Beat that.

* * *

"I can't help it, and more importantly I don't want to try to help it." Stark says with a laugh. "And there is no way anyone is going to get me to apologize for it." Many have tried to shame him, but he is at least fairly glad Betsy isn't.

The sudden feeling of a telekenetic power though sets off alarms hardwired into his brain. His empty hand shoots out, arm stiff and palm up. In the blink of an eye that hand is encased with a familiar red and gold gauntlet, one that seems to flow out from under the cloth of his suit as the repulsor system mounted in the center of the gauntlet begins to whine.

Stark though doesn't fire. Instead he smirks and slowly finishes off his own whiskey, weapon arm still extended. "…sorry. Reflex."

Scanners in his glasses kick into gear. "Inhuman? Mutant? Nuhuman? What flavor do you happen to be?" He asks as JARVIS' systems sweep the balcony for anyone else watching.

He does lower his hand slowly. "…and alright. Alright I get it. You can put me down before someone screams and I have to come up with a lie so they don't burn you at the stake."

* * *

"Why help it? I love women too. I certainly can't fault you for what I, myself, indulge in." Betsy sounds completely at ease, even laughing at his hand being incased in the gauntlet.

"You could fire it at me and not leave so much as a singed hair on my head, Stark." But she will lower him to the ground, and rather gently at that. She will look out over the city again, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Mutant. It is not something that I bandy about, but I am what I am." She will shrug, a glance at him. "I'm not registered, and as someone with dual citizenship who has her main residence in England, I plan on seeing how this works out. "

* * *

The repulsor gauntles dissipears with a flick of Stark's wrist as he raises an eyebrow to that little declaration. "That's a challenge if I've ever heard one. I'd rather not test it out since I don't want to ruin your dress."

He glances towards her though as he is set back down, eyes flicking between the woman and tiny screen on the inside of the glasses that is even now updating information. "I'll tell you how this works out, badly." A smirk at that. "Making a list just means that it makes someone want to use the list for less-than-nice purposes. One of the reasons I'm trying to fight it on a federal level."

A pause.

"And yeah, the dual citizenship is going to help but I wouldn't push it in public at least." A shake of his head. "I should have known. You know Rachel. Your one of those X people." And now a smirk colors his features.

"Therefor you have no right to say Steve has a sick up his ass, you have /Scott/."

* * *

"I can take quite the direct blast, and never have a hair out of place. It wasn't always like that." She's staring out over the city, and despite the accent, one can almost her wistfulness in her words.

"That's one of the reasons I'm doing what I'm doing. I'm refusing to register, and hiding behind dual citizenry. Because if the shit hits the fan, as you Americans say, having me not running around with an id tag shoved under my skin, or a number tattooed into my arm would be a good thing."

She's quiet a long moment. "I would think Steve would be fighting it with you, all considered. He's seen this sort of thing before, from an egomaniac named Hitler. We Brits perhaps have a more immediate feel for that history, what with all the buildings and such that still show the shelling."

She turns to look at him. "I do know Rachel. She's a friend. A very… special young woman, Rachel is." She blinks at him, violet eyes wide. "I'm afraid I don't really know the man."

* * *

"You ever seen Scooby Doo? The cartoon? He's totally Freddy and that is basically all you need to know. Now that doesn't make Jean, Daphine. I'm pretty sure if I called her that she would bake my brain or something. Or Rachel would. Too many firebirds." A shake of his head again as he leans his back against the railing this time, watching her as she looks over the city.

"Oh he is, in his own way. It /is/ the law though, and he's always been a sucker for the law. And trying to give the benefit of the doubt. Trust me though, one thing goes wrong with this and he'll make his displeasure known in a suitably disappointed father style."

A pause. "I haven't seen Rachel around much after I woke up, she doing alright?" A smirk. "Pretty sure she was one of the ones there that saved my life. Everything is a blur though in the middle of someone ripping your heart out."

* * *

"So he's this complete nerdy guy with an ascot who only has eyes for one woman?" Betsy will play along with the joke, laughing. "Jean is a bit too serious, for my tastes. Rachel seems to get my sense of humor better."

She will glance at him sidelong. "I hope he does more than give a disapproving look and send the Beav to his room without dinner. I can't take the stance of giving the benefit of the doubt. Not when it's people like me, people I know and trust, that this new law is targeting."

Her head will turn. "Rachel, last I knew, was fine. I haven't seen her for a few days. " She will arch an eyebrow. "Think that's rough, think about someone tearing your consciousness out of your body."

* * *

"Yeah that about sums it up, beyond the whole /optic beaaaaaaaaaam/ thing." Stark is a professional at making fun of people. It is just how he relates. Its also possibly why he has few actual friends but those are just the breaks. The ones he has are good enough for him.

"Steve? I'm pretty sure he'll be a little more vocal than that. But who knows. Maybe it'll actually work out." A beatpause. "Ugh, look at me I totally have had too much to drink I think that sounded like optimism."

Thoughts shift and move behind that smile, recording facts and changing just how the woman with him tonight is viewed. Not for better and not for worse. Simply putting her in a different catagory of people he knows. Scribbling observations in his mind and sending them towards JARVIS for compiling.

Neural control is the latest craze you know.

"…well now. That sounds like a hell of a disturbing story. One that /possibily/ involves magic."

* * *

"Well, he /can/ punch holes in mountains, I'm told. That probably has something to do with it, if he's that uptight." Betsy offers a hint of a smile, before she's looking over the city again.

"I would hope so, since he would be the expert in fascism. He's punched Nazis and everything." It's her turn to make a little fun of someone that's probably one of the best people she's met. Then she's laughing. "Just have another drink, it'll bring the cynicism back around."

"Disturbing, is one way to put it. I don't know how much magic is contained in kidnapping, brainwashing, and swapping the consciousness of two bodies. For a while, you see, I was a tall, striking Japanese woman. It's been.. a process, being used to being in my own body again." She pauses. "I have no idea why I've told you this. Any of it."

* * *

"Because sometimes you have to tell someone, it makes it feel less crazy." Stark's reply comes with a smirk. "And who am I going to tell? If I rattle it off to someone the'll just think I'm drunkenly rambling about the rumors of your missing time. Which you know…I suppose getting your mind stuffed in a different body makes sense for why you've been missing. Congratulations on getting your old body back?"

A pause.

"Consciousness swapping usually involves quite a bit of magic. Something I've been told I shouldn't be messing with in no uncertain terms. Apparently it makes things in the dark very angry when I do that."

Stark is a professional at pissing people off. Even extradimensional horrors.

"I do have to say you handle your actual body pretty damn well for someone trying to fit back in it again." He can't help but be entirely irreverent in this case. It is his knee jerk reaction to everything that isn't trying to kill him and most things that are.

"Anyway, having another drink sounds like an excellent idea. You want anything? Since you are basically the only interesting thing here tonight."

* * *

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's one rumor that hasn't hit the blogosphere yet." Betsy says with a laugh that's brittle around the edges. "You and I both know you're not the drunken rambling type. Not about that sort of nonsense, anyhow." She glances down, a hand smoothing her dress over her hip. "Thanks, I guess? And yes, because the actual body was housing the mind of a Japanese ninja."

She glances up at him. "No magic that I know of. A telepath switched us back, with a lot of help and effort. And thank you. I'm a fan of this body. Even with the ninja knowledge." There's a quick grin.

She will glance back towards the party. "Let's skip out of here. Go get a drink, or hit a diner, or something else. Just…not in there."


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