El has been with the site for nearly two years now and has continued to prove her value. Currently, she is heading up our site event, Battle for Liberterram, on top of keeping up with her own personal plots.
Lux's posts are all wonderful to read. She has done a wonderful job of grasping the new universe and incorporating Peggy into it.
It's good to see Spidey back on the site. Watching him deal with the universe shift in his own snarky way has been nothing short of entertaining.
Eight O'Clock on the Dot!
El and Lux are making magic in this thread. Straight up fireworks, and the way they've played with drawing out the reveal is top class.
No choice. He was completely under Namor's control now, apparently. There were worse things he could be, he figured. For the moment he was just glad that this was going so well. Well... it appeared to be going fairly well, at the very least. "I'll require plenty of paper and pencils, then?" he said, sounding more like a question than a statement. He'd just invent things on paper until he was allowed to go home, a sober and free man.
After emptying his pockets, he rolled his eyes slightly at Namor's sarcastic and irritated response. He knew the Atlantean wasn't his biggest fan, but he didn't have to be so rude about it. Of course, Tony had interrupted date night, or whatever they were calling this meeting. He liked the sound of date night. The two scariest people that he knew should totally be dating anyway. They'd have terrifying babies and take over the world in a surely terrifying manner.
Of course, Nat knew better than to believe that was all he had on him and with a put-upon sigh, he took off his watch and handed it over and then dug out his phone. "You can't let anyone else have this," he said before dropping it in her out-stretched hand. Before he had time to get an answer, he was being swept up into Namor's arms and carried across the apartment. "Sexy-strong," he commented before being dumped onto the guest room's bed.
Watching with something akin to awe as Namor efficiently cleared all tech from the room, Tony pouted a bit from his place on the bed. He really hoped he was brought paper at some point so that he wouldn't be bored to death in here. He flopped back on the mattress as Namor left the room, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what he'd gotten himself into.
It was agony. Tony couldn't sleep - he'd relied on alcohol to assist with that for too long for it to come naturally any longer. He lay awake all night with nothing to do and it was awful. A few hours in he scoured the room for paper and managed to find what appeared to be some kind of unused journal, along with some pencils. He quickly took to sketching out ideas in the pages, filling up many of them by the time Namor entered the room the next morning.
Tony blinked at the man as he brought in food and drinks. Tony's mouth watered at the idea of eating, as he found himself suddenly starving. His nose wrinkled a bit at the idea of having to cook on a hotplate - something he hadn't even used in college. Opening his mouth to respond, he was stopped by Nat's arrival and sent her a grin before turning back to Namor.
"So, one, can I have more paper and pencils? Also maybe some tape? Two, a shower and a change of clothes. That sounds really nice." He was all for the drink at dinner and the food in general, so he supposed that being pleasant was a good idea for the moment. Even if his head was starting to hurt and his body was starting to protest the fact that he wasn't drinking yet.
"You'll require nothing. You're in no position to make any demands," the hybrid implied, upper lip curved into a sneer so constant that he was all but baring his teeth at Stark the whole way through the exchange. "You've surrendered yourself to me. You should be honored that I'm wasting my time on you." He was a Prince of the Blood and an Emperor of a noble people. He did as he pleased. And if he was going to have to endure the agony of this man to reform him, he would do it as he liked--with as little contact with the man as possible.
"Or long enough to validate it." Namor did think it was possible for one's behavior to overshadow one's achievements. He thought such was the case with himself, as he did not believe that he was as worthy of his people are his reputation might imply. And he thought as much was true of Stark. How could you not hate him enough to ignore his accomplishments--the only thing that validated his loathsome existence.
Fortunately, it seemed his lover knew Anthony's nature better than he did, as she was insistent he was holding out. And then, like a scolded child, he all but dug his toes into the floor and looked guilty as he surrendered his piece of equipment. Flashing Anthony a sharp look that all but branded him with his contempt for him in that moment, the monarch scoffed. "You're rather fortunate she found this, Stark. If I had come to discover it, there's every chance you'd end up at the bottom of my stairwell."
How fortunate he was that Natalia was there. He was so sorely tempted to end his existence.
Of course, his strength was remarked on when he hoisted Stark into his arms. The man's declaration that it was sexually appealing earned a small scoff and a shake of his head. "Why the fates chose to saddle me with such an imbecile, I cannot say, but I suspect I'll never look back fondly on our time together." He could not discard Anthony fast enough after that sentence, as if to underline it in full. The man was a stain on his lineage, and considering he knew Howard for what he truly was, was saying something.
But he had the luxury of witnessing his beloved lay into Stark and enliven his carnal bouts, so it wasn't all bad, he supposed.
Even when Natalia slipped out, he couldn't help but curl up in perfect contentment and indulge in his hedonism as he slept well beyond what he needed. By then time he roused again, he figured it was time enough to invite her out for breakfast. Unfortunately he would need to do it inside of his charge's company, but they would still have time out in the sunlight, and would get to exchange barbs at the other man's expense.
Something he knew they both enjoyed.
Unsurprisingly, the man took this opportunity to press his luck. Rather than suggesting a destination for them to go to or an activity he instead listed what he seemed to think he needed, and rattled it off in such a way that he seemed to expect it. As though he thought Natalia or Namor to be his maid. Folding his arms across his chest, the monarch tilted his head back ever so slightly as he drew in a silent breath. Somewhat staring down his nose at the billionaire, the King's response was marginally tempered by his lover's interjection.
"I am not you maid. Your clothes are in your wardrobe, your bathroom is affixed to your room. And if you need more utensils, you will buy them, and we will watch every purchase to ensure no contraband comes into your possession." Namor decreed. "Make haste and see to your hygiene--we're leaving in twenty minutes."
Post by Natalia Romanova on Jan 17, 2017 15:37:43 GMT
Just as she'd thought... Offering the billionaire a scowl of disapproval, she took the watch from him, making sure to be gentle with the device despite her irritation. "Don't worry, Stark -- you'll get it back, as soon as Namor deems you worthy enough of it," she drawled, turning to let Namor add in his two cents on the matter. She couldn't help but smirk slightly at the threat issued by her lover - teammate or not, it was always fun watching him put others in their rightful place.
As the Atlantean scooped her teammate up off the floor, she almost chuckled at just how vulnerable her was in Namor's arms. Instead, her amusement turned to ash in her mouth at Tony's quip, and her head snapped up in an instant. Was he... attempting to flirt with Namor? Her eyes narrowed at their retreating forms, but she let out a sigh of what could almost be considered relief as the door slammed behind them. Tony was out of her hair for now. Namor would take care of getting him settled into the room, while she tidied up the open area.
One eyebrow danced upwards as Tony seemed excited by her presence. Perhaps if he knew what she'd been up to all morning, he might not be so jovial at the sight of her. That thought alone caused her to smirk wickedly as he rattled off a list of things he wanted, as if Namor were the new Saint Nicholas. The last two items on his list were especially amusing, and her eyes traveled to the door not five feet to the billionaire's left. Had he spent the entire night within these four walls and not noticed the bathroom?
Clearly, he was worse off than she'd thought if his skills of observation were that poor. She'd known he was bad, but the sudden realization that he'd flown in his Iron Man suit while in the same state as he'd been in the night before didn't sit well with her. Sure, there wasn't nearly as much traffic flying through the skies, but most cars were not equipped with high caliber rounds, lasers, and missiles.
As soon as Namor's decree had been laid out for Tony, she nodded, as if to say she agreed with every word the monarch said. They were a united front against him currently, and she trusted him implicitly with his current handling of her teammate. Had Tony come to her instead, he might have found her own methods considerably more lacking in the mercy department. Once the billionaire accepted her lover's terms, she pushed away from the door and returned to the living room. Hopefully he would gather his faculties and clean up in less than twenty minutes. She was famished.
Turning to Namor only once certain they were alone, she stepped forward, placing a chaste kiss upon his lips. "Good morning..." She chuckled at the slight gloss coating his lips and motioned for him to remove the stain should he wish to keep their relations a secret from the recovering alcoholic in the other room. "I cleaned out every house I could find affixed to his name or company. The veterans of America will be drinking considerably nicer stuff for awhile," she chuckled, shooting him a quick wink. "So, where are we going? Somewhere with food, I hope?"
Tony blinked at Namor and frowned a bit. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to leave the room. Wait. There’s a bathroom attached?” He glanced over at the closed door in the room. He’d figured it was the closet, not a bathroom. Well, this changed things. By which he meant that he could now go take that leak he’d been holding in for, like, hours. He jumped up from the bed, unsteady enough on his feet that he nearly faceplanted into the rug, and went to open the door which did, sure enough, lead to the bathroom.
He didn’t push the door shut completely behind him as he made his way to the toilet so he could piss, sighing with relief before turning to wash his hands and carefully returning to the room. “That’s better,” he smiled. Namor was situated somewhat between Tony and the wardrobe - by which he meant that he’d have to walk within arm’s length of the Atlantean to get there - so he hesitated in doing so, simply staring instead.
“So twenty minutes. Got it. Can we go to an art supply store? I need drafting supplies…” he requested. He hadn’t done drafting by hand in… probably a decade. It would be interesting to suddenly be trying again. It didn’t take long after that for Namor and Nat to leave him to his own devices again and he went to the wardrobe and picked out something cozy that he could wear. It was very against his usual if-anyone-can-see-me style that usually consisted of simply more casual suits, but his entire body felt weird and he didn’t feel like putting on anything more complicated than a worn t-shirt and joggers.
He sped through his shower, not wanting to risk getting dragged out by one of his… captors? He was pretty much captive, but it was voluntary so he wasn’t sure that fit. After he was pretty much ready to go and could walk without stumbling, he poked his head out the door. “Am I allowed out of my room?” he called down the hallway.
"I told you as much. Or do you not remember 'try to die in the bathroom?' I thought that would be a rather memorable sentence. Although I suppose you're rather used to death threats..." Namor trailed off dryly, chin tipping up as his eyebrow arched in a mock display of interest and curiosity. Truly, what a challenging existence the man must have led. Being a complete imbecile and one of the world's alleged brightest minds simultaneously must have been exhausting. Fortunately it seemed that Tony had decided to give himself a break and retire his genius inside of the last twenty-four hours.
Or, if Namor really stopped to think about it, Anthony seemed to retire his genius for the majority of their interactions. Apparently Stark felt absolutely comfortable with him, enough that he had no shame about making a complete fool of himself. It wasn't at all that he was such a fool that he didn't even recognize himself as one. Pitiful.
When Anthony turned to at last make use of the bathroom he'd known about since much earlier, Namor glanced Natalia's way. Just as he was ready to speak, he heard the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled down, something that should have barely registered through the mostly sound-proofed doors. Not even bothering to look to confirm his suspicion, his expression soured momentarily as he heard the wondrous sounds of urination. Ordinarily he would not demean himself by speaking of what was only a momentarily lapse in propriety, but he knew the man was uncivilized and did not believe it to be a one-time mistake, nor did he have much patience for Stark to begin with.
"Were you somehow under the illusion that we wanted to hear you piss?" The Atlantean asked, turning to face Stark as he approached. "Who taught you manners?" He asked rhetorically. Likely everyone in his life that ever attempted to teach him became defeated by his complete disregard for anyone but himself. Or else were otherwise alienated because of the same thing and completely justified in their abandonment of him. He had to say that he couldn't blame Howard for disregarding his child. More likely Howard sense what his son would grow up to be and was smart enough to distance himself while he still could.
Something that Namor wasted no timing in doing when the time came to excuse himself. Once he was outside the room he let his back slide against the wall, body language relaxing with a sigh that expelled some of his tension. After a moment, he continued toward Natalia.
Pressing a gentle kiss back, he renewed more of his exhausted supplies of patience. "Every morning with you is..." he lifted his hand to brush his knuckles along her jaw line, smiling sweetly as his lips remained close to hers. "At last, Stark contributes something." Namor remarked with a wicked, but soft grin. "I suppose we can let him out a little longer today. We'll find something to eat and then go run his errand. And after that we'll have to discuss what measures should be taken against HYDRA." It was unfortunate that they could not be as romantically indulgent as he might otherwise want to be, but HYDRA was a matter of pressing concern, and his house guest and business with Oracle could not be ignored.
Before too long their time together came to an end and Anthony's shower was over. When the man's voice echoed from down the hall, Namor turned to acknowledge him.
"Yes. Come along." Turning to Natalia with a rather more gracious expression, he motioned for her to go ahead and take the lead to the private elevator and down so they could get out to where his chauffeur was waiting. Taking the rear, Namor effectively kept his eyes on Stark at all times in case the man thought to chance pocketing some piece of technology from inside of Namor's penthouse to entertain himself with. Enjoying the silence of the brief elevator ride down, it was a short walk through the building out to the side exit. On the street was his Rolls Royce towncar.
"Take the passenger's seat." Namor bid Anthony before he opened the door for Natalia, then walked around the car to take the driver's side. Once everyone was settled, the car began rolling forward, and a simple exchange between Namor and the driver directed where they were going to. As promised, their first stop was a restaurant.
Natalia Romanova feel free to take them inside the restaurant and establish it, etc
Regrets? I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention. I did what I had to do, and saw it through without exemption.
Post by Natalia Romanova on Feb 23, 2017 16:02:45 GMT
One of the brightest minds the world had ever known... and he hadn't realized there was a bathroom attached to the bedroom he'd been confined to all night. Natalia wanted to groan, but she forced herself to refrain, not for Tony's sake, but for Namor's. When Tony moved towards the bathroom, she felt her gut beginning to sink, just the way it did whenever something bad was about to happen. "Please shut the door..." she murmured, knowing somewhere deep inside that he wasn't going to.
She reached out to her lover, placing a gentle hand on the Atlantean's forearm as he broached the subject of Tony's barbaric manners (or rather, lack thereof). They were trying to help Tony, not murder him for pissing loudly where everyone in the vicinity could hear. Suddenly, it felt just like Triji all over again; she didn't want to murder Tony, not really, but if it kept Namor's hands clean, she'd do it. Thankfully, murder wasn't on the agenda for today - so far.
"I feel quite the same way," she murmured, tilting her head slightly so that he could reach her jaw all the more easily. "Odds were in his favor that he'd manage it at some point." Chuckling, she wrapped her arms around his waist, keeping herself comfortably close to him while they had a few minutes' reprieve from Namor's uninvited house guest. She nodded in approval of his plan for the day, knowing all too well that everything on the docket was more important than spending time wrapped up in each other's arms. The world would not stop turning, after all, just because they desired some time to be alone.
By the time Tony was ready, the pair had split apart, lest he exit the bedroom without warning. They had not kept the world in the dark about their relationship previously simply on luck, after all. Seeing the outfit Tony had picked was a little shocking - there was no glam to it. Perhaps he was attempting to physically embody the shame he should feel for letting himself sink so low without requesting help from those around him.
Hopefully whichever restaurant Namor picked would allow him in. Anything more than a burger joint might not let him in, even with the name Tony Stark. With a gentle shake of her head, she nodded to Namor's motion and headed towards the elevator. Once out of the elevator, she moved with practiced ease, gliding towards the Rolls Royce as if she owned the vehicle. The sound of Namor's voice caused her to pause, and while she had no doubt that the curt tone was being used for Tony, she wanted to make sure.
Good. Just as she'd thought.
If she didn't hear some kind of complaint from Tony about not being able to drive, she might be shocked. Then again, with how much alcohol he'd had in his system the night before, she doubted it was all out yet. Letting him get a DUI - or worse, crash the car - thanks to impaired judgment was not something either she nor Namor would allow, no matter how much the billionaire complained.
Nodding in thanks as Namor got the door for her, she eased into the vehicle, closing the door once she was settled. Her stomach nearly growled audibly at the monarch's direction - they were getting food first thing. Smiling, she leaned back in her seat, letting her left hand rest casually on the seat between herself and Namor. When at last, they arrived at the restaurant, she stepped free of the car and glanced up at the restaurant. "Hope you brought your appetite, Stark," she drawled, grinning slightly over at the two men. She certainly had.
Her movements as they stepped up to the restaurant were graceful and calm, masking her desire for food like the true expert she was. The smells of brunch wafting around the main room were almost enough to make her salivate, but she managed to keep her composure as a hostess brought them to their table. It was tucked away near the back of the restaurant, much to her delight. Her face had been all over the news in the worst way; even with Tony joining them, she didn't trust any potential paparazzi not to put some kind of spin on her sharing a meal with Namor. Offering the young woman a smile and quiet 'thank you', Natalia moved without hesitation towards the seat that allowed her the most visibility of the room at large.
"I don't believe I've ever been to this restaurant. I hear their eggs benedict is to die for, though," she drawled, trying to ease into some kind of conversation if only to break the silence. She abhorred small talk, but speaking plainly about Tony's predicament here in a public space was nothing short of rude.
Tony huffed a bit at the re-hashing of the death threat that he only vaguely remembered. Namor's wit was dry for a man that lived in the ocean. He wanted to punch his smug face, but that was the worst idea ever because it would break his hand before it would hurt the Atlantean. Sometimes it really sucked being the squishiest person in his immediate social circle. Even Pepper was less squishy than him.
Plus, his whole body hurt right now. Like, really bad. He didn't want to make that worse.
Returning to the room only to face more extreme sarcasm, he rolled his eyes a bit. "No, I was under the illusion that you wouldn't care enough to listen," he replied, "And my mom taught me beautiful manners. I just don't use them." He was starting to wonder why he'd volunteered himself for this. He'd much rather be drinking right now.
When he was given the go-ahead to come out of the bedroom he carefully did so. He didn't want to be attacked immediately or anything. Tony slunk by the other two, looking suspiciously between them. He was sure that there was something going on there. Absolutely positive. Of course, he had also been sure at one point that there was something going on between Howard and Namor, so maybe Namor just had that way with all people, all the time.
He blinked momentarily at Namor as he was ordered into the car before opening the door and slumping into the seat. He didn't even bother buckling, instead slumping down and curling in on himself a bit. He wasn't looking forward to a car ride. Going outside into the sun had already been bad enough. His head hurt and he wanted to die even more than he had before.
"Does anyone have sunglasses I can borrow?" he grumbled, looking around the car, "And you better not be a shitty driver." He wanted to make more noise about the whole thing, but he was tired and achey and wanted sleep and food. He could settle for just food for the moment. And then getting art supplies. That would be good for after he slept.
He slid - and stumbled slightly - out of the car and adjusted the borrowed sunglasses on his face as he looked up at the place. "Maybe," he replied to Nat, kinda hunching over and skulking more than his usual strut as they went into the restaurant. Tony tried to hide himself as best he could by taking a seat close to the wall with his back to the room, still hunched over rather than utilizing his typically excellent posture.
"I think I just want waffles. And chicken. Chicken and waffles," he replied as he frowned down at the menu, "Is that a thing here?" He started flipping through it to check, still trying to hide himself as best he could.
For a moment Namor was tempted to slap the man with enough force as to jostle out a few teeth, crack his jaw, split his lip and bruise his tongue. But he refrained, a true testimony to his devotion to Natalia and his own restraint. Anthony was lucky he lived in the age of a more wizened prince of the sea, else he'd have already been across the room and imbedded into a wall by now. Instead he let out a single, long and surprisingly smooth breath and let his shoulders sag slightly with it. That seemed to channel enough of his frustration that he was not lose his patience with Anthony and toss him from his care. Instead he chose to verbally demolish him.
"Natalia heard and she does not have the hearing that I have. And before you suggest that either of us would want to hear you piss, I'll remind you that individuals of our caliber do not pervert ourselves with people of yours." Rather they perverted themselves with each other if his and Natalia's exotic tastes were anything to go by, but that would be a joke he'd share with her later. Though he somehow imagined that her mind would make the link as well, given how similar their thoughts could be at times.
Feeling her arm on his forearm, he turned to look at her and pat her hand in a brief display of affection, far too platonic in nature to be construed as anything romantic.
"If you fly through the windshield and damage my Rolls Royce, rest assured I'll bill your estate." Was Namor's one warning on his lack of seat belt. Though he trusted his chauffeur's ability, his chauffeur was not the only car on the road, and Anthony was hung over and already prone to reckless and idiotic behavior when he was sober. Hopefully they would be able to make all legs of this journey without Anthony getting himself or someone else maimed or killed.
"Hold your tongue if you want to keep it. I'll not shoulder insults to my employees." As of this point he felt he'd been plenty patient with the man. If his behavior persisted it wouldn't be long before he had the privilege of the king's touch. Something it seemed he'd yearned for for some time, but not in the application that Namor was going to give him. For Natalia's sake he'd even pull the strength of his blow and simply make it sufficient to smart.
Getting out of the car helped as it meant that he was no longer in such tight proximity with the drunkard, who fleetingly smelled at least somewhat presentable. He knew that would not remain the truth for long, however, as drunks that went through detox had a way of secreting stench that would make dung envious. And though his wider berth granted him temporary reprieve, sitting next to Natalia soothed him on a greater level.
The mention of eggs benedict was the reason they'd come here, that and their fruit platter. Both were delicacies that he was hard-pressed to find in the sea, and he usually took advantage of his time upside where his gourmand nature was concerned. "Use your brain to direct your eyes across the text of the menu. I find that a critical part of determining a restaurant's selection." Namor deadpanned in response to Tony.
Post by Natalia Romanova on Mar 21, 2017 16:06:19 GMT
Every inch of Natalia wanted to reach out and touch Namor’s arm gently. It wasn’t a romantic urge, per se - just a desire to help calm her lover. Tony was an idiot sometimes, but he wasn’t worth getting worked up over. While Stark was still in the restroom, she finally gave in to her desire and was rewarded by the sight of Namor’s shoulders slumping ever so slightly. She rewarded his efforts of restraint with a gentle smile as her hand slid silently back to her side, though the look slowly curled into a knowing smirk at his precise words. No, they did not pervert themselves with people like Tony.
They were far too busy helping themselves to each other.
“Some might view your disregard for the lessons your mother taught you to be a disservice to her memory,” she chided, her tone surprisingly soft and almost empathetic, rather than harsh. It was clear she meant the comment to be an attempt to encourage the rude billionaire to rethink his methods, not as an attack on his dead mother. She’d never met Maria Stark, but if she’d managed to convince Howard to settle, and help raise Tony, she must have been a great woman.
Tony’s snippy comment towards the driver earned himself a glare from the Russian as she buckled up into the seat beside Namor’s. “Tony,” she hissed, her eyes suggesting he heed Namor’s advice if he wanted to live. He hadn’t been around during Namor’s younger years, hadn’t seen the destruction the Atlantean was capable of. She had never seen it firsthand, but she’d studied it before her time at Oracle. Tony was lucky her lover had grown patient over the years, though that patience was surely being tested at the moment.
Sliding her own large-framed sunglasses towards Tony, she shook her head. The rest of the drive to the restaurant passed in relative silence, something for which she was glad. It would have been nicer had she been alone with Namor, and able to show the man some form of affection, but his presence in the car with her at least helped stifle the awkward tension that Tony added to the small space.
A tiny smirk danced onto her lips at Namor’s response to Tony’s question, but she kept herself quiet in lieu of adding a bit of snark her own self. As the waiter approached, she offered the man a warm smile and ordered a glass of orange juice and a pitcher of water for the table before returning her eyes to the menu so that the men could place their own drink orders.
“Have you tried the crepes here, Namor?” she asked, glancing over at her lover with a look of interested curiosity. “I’m torn between those and the eggs benedict. I recall you mentioning the eggs benedict as being exceptional a few years ago, but I’ve yet to find time to make it here until today.”
"Pervert? I'm offended. Incredibly offended. I will detail all the ways in which I am offended later, when I don't feel like death warmed over," Tony protested to the Atlantean with an attempt at an offended huff that sounded more just... well, pained. He was a high-caliber individual. He shot Nat a glare at her mention of his mother's memory, however. It was uncalled for and she knew it. If he didn't feel so bad, he'd call her on it. As it was he just wanted the world to stop aching. "Rude," he chided simply, instead.
While he curled into himself in the front seat, he took a moment to snort at the Atlantean's threat. "You'll have to fight Pepper on that one later, so good luck," he replied. She was the executor of his estate, after all, as there was no one that he trusted more. Also, she could be vicious when she wanted to be. He ignored the threat to him at his supposed insult to the driver, rolling his eyes at the both of them - though he was facing forward so it was unlikely they could tell.
He gratefully took the bug-eyed sunglasses from Nat when she passed them to him. "Thanks," he said, sliding the too-large frames onto his face. They would look absolutely ridiculous, especially combined with his outfit, but they did an amazing job of blocking out the sun and he sighed happily as the light cut out a bit, allowing the pounding in his head to recede a bit.
He pulled down the visor and flipped open the mirror to look at himself, humming in approval when he saw that he only looked slightly ridiculous rather than completely so.
Getting out of the car and into the restaurant was an ordeal in and of itself, but after he'd managed that Tony was sure that he would manage the rest. His body was getting used to movement at this point - or he was getting used to the pains of movement - and he found that it was a little easier than before. Hopefully it would stay that way for the rest of this outing, until he could return to his life of sleep and sketching.
He glared at Namor from behind the sunglasses - which mostly blocked both eyes and furrowed brow thanks to their size - before turning back to the menu and ignoring Nat's chatter about eggs benedict. He pushed the sunglasses up into his hair as he flipped through the menu until he found what he wanted. Catching sight of a waitress with a tray full of mimosas headed past them, he sighed wistfully after the alcohol before resigning himself to sipping at his glass of water.
"No, you won't as I will not hear your complaints. And if you continue to whinge like some spoiled child I will retract my gracious hosting of you and have my chauffeur drop you off at the nearest bar. Do you understand?" Namor would consider what followed no fault of his own. He was not blackmailing, bribing or coercing Tony to shoot himself--he was merely offering out the gun so the man-child could at last see for himself how wanting his own character was.
If Natalia wanted to save him from that, so be it. But since one of the conditions of his hospitality was that the mogul not bellyache, Namor felt as though his own honor would be clean on this. She could nurse him back to health on her own, and he would steal what glimpses of her he could until the fool fledgling finally took flight. But he soon doubted the extent of her camaraderie as she watched a look spark in her eyes. Holding his tongue, he let her respond to the supposed genius.
The supposed genius that at last broke his patience. Of course he had a glib remark to give. Even in the wake of a favor. For a moment his expression snapped from mounting irritation to a look of complete resolve. A heartbeat later and a door slam later and he was pulling Anthony up out of the passenger's door by his collar, the hybrid's fist balled around fabric. As soon as the human was hoisted out, Namor closed the door shut and took them both up into the air so that they were hovering forty feet over traffic. Pulling Anthony close to him, Namor's face invaded the other man's space, his lips twisted into a scowl.
"I am not your employee, team mate or friend. I owe you nothing. And right now you are alive by my mercy, as you've tested the extent of my patience." Pushing Anthony away from him so that he was only being held up by the cloth that he was wearing, Namor continued. "You are a man. Act like it or have the decency to kill yourself so that the rest of us are not burdened with your existence."
Feeling he'd made the point that he needed to, Namor flew back down to meet up with the Rolls Royce and shoved Anthony back into his seat before he joined Natalia in the back. There was enough time that he was able to focus on restoring some of his patience. Not for the billionaire, as that ship had long sailed. But for the situation. He did not want his contempt for the other to spoil his morning with Natalia.
"I've not." Namor replied. "If you like I may order one and you can order the other and we can take some samplings from each other's plate." Sharing food was a very Atlantean custom, so he did not take offense to the idea of another touching his food, provided he had a sense of some community with them.
Post by Natalia Romanova on Apr 6, 2017 15:41:39 GMT
Natalia wanted to believe that Tony was actually feigning his offense, but with that huff of a breath, she honestly wasn't sure. She also wanted to believe that he wasn't going back on the promise he'd made the night previously about not complaining to Namor provided the Atlantean monarch took him in for this cleansing. Thankfully, Namor's words seemed to mirror her thoughts, but she kept her expression one of thinly veiled stoicism.
Tony's single worded response to her attempt to gently coerce him into utilizing some form of manners, however, sent a ripple of indignation through the Russian. It started in her gut, her anger flashing in her eyes for half a moment as she took a step towards the billionaire. "Yes, that was the point. For someone who showed up unannounced at another person's door smelly and under the influence, begging for aid, you are being quite rude to the only two people currently attempting to help you, Stark." What would his mother think of that? Certainly nothing good, she wagered.
She could see Namor growing more and more displeased with every passing moment. Each quip from the genius only seemed to intensify her lover's dissatisfaction until he was unable to take any more. "No --" Her hand reached out for Namor's as she saw the final straw hit the metaphorical camel's back, but instead of managing to secure around his own to keep him in the vehicle, she felt the seat belt around her upper body dig in as it pulled tight. Curse her safety!
The next few seconds happened almost in a blur as her lover forcibly removed Stark from the car. For a moment, she wondered if he was just going to leave Tony here on the side of the street, but it seemed that wasn't on today's lesson plan. Groaning under her breath, she motioned for the driver to pull off out of traffic and spun in her seat to search for the two men.
When she couldn't find them on the sidewalk or in the street, she shifted her gaze up... and up... and up. A look of slight fear crossed her face as her mind instantly worked out just how much damage Tony could potentially take from a fall that high. There was nothing she could do to save the man, however, so she closed her eyes and settled back into her seat. The seat belt was still being finicky after locking her in place, so she took the moment of freedom to unbuckle and re-buckle the safety device. Namor was hyper-intelligent; he wouldn't drop Tony - a well-known face throughout the world - in the middle of midday New York traffic. That would be both unseemly and would hinder his reputation more than his race and past actions already did.
As the two men re-entered the vehicle, she remained quiet. She knew just how venomous Namor could be when he was irritated, and she was fairly certain Tony had driven him not only to that point, but beyond. There was no need for her to add salt to the wound at this point, so she offered Namor a glimmer of a smile while inspecting his face for any kind of sign that might tell her if he'd released most of his anger, or if there was more to come. He seemed not quite at peace, but bearable enough, and so she contented herself with watching over the front seats at the traffic ahead during the remainder of the drive.
Natalia's gaze locked onto Tony's and then followed it as she heard the billionaire sigh. Her lips pursed together and she glared slightly before the sound of Namor's voice tugged her back to the topic of food. Tony could daydream about alcohol all he wanted, but there would be none of it at this table. "That seems a fine idea to me," she smiled. "I was thinking of getting an array of fruit fillings for the crepes rather than just one. Are there any you'd be opposed to?" Spying the waiter returning to the table for their orders, she turned her attention back to the Avenger. "Have you decided on something, Tony?"
Tony sighed a bit at Namor's reply, but nodded his head anyway, wincing as Nat added in with the chastisement. "Yeah. I won't detail my offense to you because you are being kind enough to help me and I should be nice about it," he agreed after a moment, not sure if he'd take more offense to the words or not. He was trying to show that he understood, but Tony's tone sometimes took a turn for the sarcastic without asking his permission first. He ho[ed that this wasn't one of those moments.
He supposed that he was the king of pushing his luck, however, as it didn't take long for him to truly reach the end of Namor's proverbial rope. He was sure that Namor had literal rope as well, but it wasn't involved here and why was his brain going off on tangents in the middle of something very important like, oh, his feet leaving the ground as he was lifted into the air by his collar. He felt like a kitten being scruffed by an irritated owner.
He gulped as he grasped at Namor's wrist with his hands in an effort to feel more secure while hanging in the air, trying to calm his quickly-beating heart. "Jesus, I get it, okay?! I'm an asshole. I'm sorry!" he replied, his voice quiet despite the panic coloring it. He didn't like this whole flying thing, like, at all. Not without his suit.
Quite happy to be back on the ground, he scrambled into the car again so that he wouldn't have to look at Namor. Instead, he sulked quietly as he tried to not have a heart attack at the whole thing. He put a hand to his chest and tried to will his heart to slow down.
Once they arrived in the restaurant he did his best to remain relatively obscured at all times, but he spared a moment to roll his eyes at the conversation between Namor and Nat while his eyes were still behind the sunglasses. Such a benign and pleasant conversation, considering why the three of them were here together and the fact that Tony had been dangling high above the street a scant quarter-hour earlier.
When Nat's attention turned to him, Tony nodded a bit. "Sure. Yeah. Just keep me away from the mimosas," he replied to the question, taking the sunglasses off his head and setting them to the side on the table when they began to slip back down onto his face. "Chicken and wafflessss..." he added in a quieter voice as he flipped the menu closed again. He was kinda starving at this point, but he stared down at his glass of water wishing that it was alcohol.
“How generous,” Namor seethed with enough poison to eradicate an entire village. It simply took a dozen violations of his word and the reminder that he made a promise for him to acknowledge it. Time would tell if he was capable of following through. But considering the man was an addict and a child and a complete buffoon with the willpower of a tube worm, he set his expectations at zero. And was prepared to react appropriately. He was not a creature of idle threats.
Natalia’s protest fell on deaf ears. On this occasion she was lucky that he’d such tremendous admiration for her loyalty and professionalism, even with those that didn’t deserve the courtesy of either. Otherwise he would have been incensed that she even attempted to stop him from something long overdue. The time to change his mind was past. The mogul needed his feet held against the flame if he had any chance of amounting to anything.
Or surviving Namor.
For a moment Namor tasted the fear emanating off of Anthony. He could hear the thunder of his heartbeat and see his jugular jump in his neck. There was still some ruthless, decisive part of him that made him want to close his hand completely around the man’s throat. He did not suffer fools well and the man had broke his word time and again. He did not serve as the consultant he begged to be. He did not keep his mouth shut so that they could avenge his father and expel a credible threat to the surface. And he had shown nothing but ingratitude to the very saviors he’d sought.
But he resisted, though he did not bother to hide the dark temptation. Better for the imbecile to see how near he was. Namor was not certain that simply dangling him over the road was enough.
“Your apology is worthless.” The King’s eyes flashed, amazed at the human’s audacity. He’d apologized countless times before, but it had never amounted to anything, further reinforcing Namor’s contempt for the practice. “Be worthy of the gifts you’ve been given. Rise to your destiny. Then maybe I’ll believe your apology means something.”
And so he settled for non-lethal force and then tried to ease some of his anger. If he was not actively proving himself to be an honorless, ungrateful cur then he was not worthy of Namor’s time. That also meant he was not worthy of his influencing his mood for overlong. Something that was a little easier said than done, but he was slowly managing.
“Blackberry. They’re too tart for my taste.” Looking at the menu again, his arched brow rose. “And the kiwi and mango fillings.” He wasn’t sure why the latter two were even offered. They made the crepes sickly sweet and their texture was not suited for the very thin cakes. All of the other fruits--strawberry, blueberry and raspberry--were suitable.
Post by Natalia Romanova on May 13, 2017 5:17:53 GMT
For the first time since stepping foot into the Oracle building, Natalia felt Tony was finally making a good decision. It was likely too little, too late, of course, but at least Namor seemed to be keeping his cool. She couldn’t help but wonder if Tony would even have survived the night had he not stumbled in while she was there at the penthouse. So long as he’d been confined to the guest room quickly enough, she supposed he would have fared alright. Whether he’d survive breakfast with her lover, however, had yet to be seen.
Natalia did her best to stay calm while Namor hauled Tony out of the car and up into the air. There was nothing she could do for either man at this point, so keeping her face away from the scene being caused outside the car seemed the smartest notion. If Namor did end up dropping Tony, she did not want to be seen as an accomplice.
Although she’d technically rejoined the Avengers after this last attack from Thanos, she could see the headlines already. Talk of her avenging herself for being removed from the Avengers. Or perhaps the press would focus on the fact that she and Namor were in public together during such a catastrophe. The Department of Defense would likely find a reason to reopen the case and they’d be forced to go through that nightmare again, this time with the blood of Tony Stark on their hands rather than foreign soldiers.
Natalia didn’t catch the eye roll Tony offered as his part of the conversation taking place at the table thanks to her own sunglasses, but the genius’ body language was almost enough in itself. Natalia’s own eyes narrowed slightly in warning, but she disregarded the billionaire in lieu of focusing on a man who made her considerably happy just to think about.
“Don’t worry, Stark. We’re keeping you away from all alcohol - including your own,” she offered pleasantly. He hadn’t been around when she’d informed Namor about her morning errand. Perhaps he’d catch on to the true meaning beneath her words soon enough so that she could see the realization hit him square between the eyes.
Nodding to Namor, she made a mental note before glancing down at the fruit list. “Those two I wouldn’t mind trying sometime, if only to say I’ve tried them,” she chuckled quietly. Her sense of adventure did not often translate into the realm of food, but fruit was safe enough in her mind. It didn’t have a face or any weird body parts to eat like some delicacies from across the ocean. “Today, I think a mixture of the strawberry, blueberry, and raspberry sounds good.”
At the sound of Tony’s mumble, she arched one brow. He still seemed fixated on the notion of chicken and waffles, so she turned and waved the waiter over to them. She was famished and more than a little ready for food. Once all of the orders had been placed and the drinks passed out, Natalia seemed to relax ever so slightly as she made a quick sweep of the room at large.
She wasn’t entirely sure what to say at this point, however. With just Namor, she never faltered when it came to conversation topics. But with Tony sitting at the table with them, she knew it was foolish to act as casual as she normally would with her lover. Instead of speaking up, she reached forward, snagging her glass from the table. Taking a slow drink, her eyes swiveled over the rim towards Namor, and then back to Tony. No matter how disdainful she was towards small talk, they needed some sort of conversation. “So, how is Alice? Is she back home?”