Tony spends a hot second recalibrating as he stares at her, eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher a complex math problem. Dismissing it as not a big deal seems like not the answer, somehow, even if every fibre of his being wants to. It's big brain time, picking the nuance out of the. Spam. ]
Okay, [ he says, fingers splaying in a musical fidget, ] here's the thing. I've never met anyone like you. Not in real life. That's kind of the case of just about everyone here, but even out of them, you're a trip, and playing word association is just kind of what happens. It's not meant to be a bad thing.
And I can't speak to my whole ass world, but yeah, respect comes out different. I'd wanna think that giving you a first class tour of the tech keeping me alive so that we can build some neat things overrides a nickname or three.
[She is not angry. She is perfectly pleasant. She will be willfully cheerful.]
I suppose it might. But then again, it occurs to me that it might also be a small point of leverage over any potential ownership I might have in the neat things that we could build. But really, I wouldn't have any way of knowing, now would I? I am in fact entirely reliant on trusting that your intentions are what you imply they are, and that I am not lacking some important point of context which might change the meaning of your very considerate gesture entirely.
[The front cover of the book is snapped shut with a clipped noise. She smiles at him and shrugs.]
[ The potentiality of getting too annoyed to deal before he can repair anything is becoming an inevitability, but seeing as he already went all in some weeks back-- ]
I trusted you. I don't know how Kalvad rolls, feel free to enlighten me, but that should mean something.
[She is putting this copy of Plague of Shadow: Epidemic in the Black Age in its proper stack regardless of whether his hand is still there so he had best make some quick decisions.]
[ There's a beat, mostly taken up by the sound of book stacked atop book and the persistent rain outside.
Tony then leans in over his crossed legs, squinting at her as if trying to divine something, or maybe there is a smudge of her face, something stuck in her teeth, who can say. ]
I've been thinking about Cosima Niehaus, since plague. We never met, but she tried it, you know. To change stuff around here, before she disappeared. Maybe she got bored, maybe it made her crazy, maybe she cared, who knows. Baudin keeps her microscope in his office in la memoriam, though, which is kind of sweet.
Anyway. You can hold onto this. [ The scroll case he'd arrived with is picked back up and kind of awkwardly wedged into Wysteria's arms, in and around her book sorting.
Tony picks up the box of cinnamon twists. ] But I'm taking these. 'Cause of the [ he gestures to her, a circular motion ] ice queen shtick.
[The scroll case is received with roughly the same level of awkwardness as it's passed off with and maybe twice the level of-- suspicion isn't the right word. Not really. It's more hesitance. Someone whose had their hand slapped and is wary of being rapped over the knuckles a second time.
Her hand goes to the case's cap, but she doesn't pop it open.]
[ It's a hard read on her reaction, just as much because Tony is getting to his feet as he is disoriented by her whole everything. He rattles the cardboard box a bit. ]
You wanted pictures, [ he says. ] I'm a little rusty, so go easy.
[It's clear from her sidelong look that there is a conclusion there she hasn't drawn. So she pops the cap on the cylinder and dumps the contents from it, spreading them out over the uneven stacks of books before her.]
[ Several loose leaf pieces of parchment spill out and half uncurl. A couple of them are especially large, like a map, and will take some fidgeting to show up their contents. But all space is used to its best potential.
Mechanical renderings to scale depict an exploded version of the compact device in his chest. Perfect circles, straight lines, the kind of practiced precision of the anal-retentive. Labels and shorthand explanations fill in the gaps. Materials, minerals, equations. All the guesswork distilled into conclusions, the broad explanations snapped into specifics.
And ugh, watching people open presents is the worst. He should have just thrown this thing through the window. ]
Should be all you need, [ he says, raccoonfidgeting a twist from the box as he starts a wander for the door. ] You know where to find me if it's not.
[It's as she suspected, she thinks - that use of different metals in the casing and its lining to offset any expansion or contraction in response to the energy the lyrium might emit. It's a clever trick.
If she waited a few more seconds, he'd make it all the way through the door and be gone. She is very close to letting him go.]
[ Tony pivots at the door with some immediacy when she speaks, catching himself there with a semi-free hand (baked good trapped in fingers), and his expression conveys some amount of blank uncertainty around the shape and form of this.
Olive branch? Jury's out. ]
Mr Moneybags? [ he says. ] Okay.
[ He was never the guy to lay the groundwork when it came to clients, associates, etc. They were already bought by the time he showed up. ]
[While continuing to thumb through the schematics:]
He knows about the direction of the project, and not to say anything to the Provost until we have a working prototype. And he knows that we will need refined lyrium for it and I have given him a new list of required materials and so on and so forth, though I have yet to share the specifics of the updated designs yet. And he will want to be involved in the testing, should it ever come to that. Evidently the man has a passion for explosives and so on.
[He knows enough, is the moral of this story. With a shrug, Wysteria begins rolling the papers back up. It takes a little work to get them all realigned and in the right size fit for cramming back into the cylinder.]
[ Microscopes on pedestals. Tony watches her for a little while longer as though maybe there is more to say before he takes a generous bite out of his cinnamon twist. ]
Thanks for the head up, [ he says, around it, ] and try not to vanish into star dust anytime soon. I still need you for things.
[ No particular emphasis on the I or the you. But if she's as clever as all that, she's got the fundamentals of what he can offer in her hot little hands. ]
Bye, [ is barky and abrupt, as is his disappearance from the door. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[It's the Jane Austen thing.]
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Tony spends a hot second recalibrating as he stares at her, eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher a complex math problem. Dismissing it as not a big deal seems like not the answer, somehow, even if every fibre of his being wants to. It's big brain time, picking the nuance out of the. Spam. ]
Okay, [ he says, fingers splaying in a musical fidget, ] here's the thing. I've never met anyone like you. Not in real life. That's kind of the case of just about everyone here, but even out of them, you're a trip, and playing word association is just kind of what happens. It's not meant to be a bad thing.
And I can't speak to my whole ass world, but yeah, respect comes out different. I'd wanna think that giving you a first class tour of the tech keeping me alive so that we can build some neat things overrides a nickname or three.
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I suppose it might. But then again, it occurs to me that it might also be a small point of leverage over any potential ownership I might have in the neat things that we could build. But really, I wouldn't have any way of knowing, now would I? I am in fact entirely reliant on trusting that your intentions are what you imply they are, and that I am not lacking some important point of context which might change the meaning of your very considerate gesture entirely.
[The front cover of the book is snapped shut with a clipped noise. She smiles at him and shrugs.]
As I said. Prone to irrational silliness.
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[ The potentiality of getting too annoyed to deal before he can repair anything is becoming an inevitability, but seeing as he already went all in some weeks back-- ]
I trusted you. I don't know how Kalvad rolls, feel free to enlighten me, but that should mean something.
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He panics and says; ] Hot fairy.
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[She is putting this copy of Plague of Shadow: Epidemic in the Black Age in its proper stack regardless of whether his hand is still there so he had best make some quick decisions.]
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Okay. Hey. [ Jazzhands. ] I'll drop the twee namecalling. See that, it's gone. It wasn't supposed to make you feel some type of way.
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[And that is said far too pleasantly as she moves on to allocating the rest of the books in her lap.]
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Tony then leans in over his crossed legs, squinting at her as if trying to divine something, or maybe there is a smudge of her face, something stuck in her teeth, who can say. ]
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Is there something else bothering you, Mr. Stark?
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[ He leans back into his space. ]
I've been thinking about Cosima Niehaus, since plague. We never met, but she tried it, you know. To change stuff around here, before she disappeared. Maybe she got bored, maybe it made her crazy, maybe she cared, who knows. Baudin keeps her microscope in his office in la memoriam, though, which is kind of sweet.
Anyway. You can hold onto this. [ The scroll case he'd arrived with is picked back up and kind of awkwardly wedged into Wysteria's arms, in and around her book sorting.
Tony picks up the box of cinnamon twists. ] But I'm taking these. 'Cause of the [ he gestures to her, a circular motion ] ice queen shtick.
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Her hand goes to the case's cap, but she doesn't pop it open.]
What is it?
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You wanted pictures, [ he says. ] I'm a little rusty, so go easy.
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Oh.
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Mechanical renderings to scale depict an exploded version of the compact device in his chest. Perfect circles, straight lines, the kind of practiced precision of the anal-retentive. Labels and shorthand explanations fill in the gaps. Materials, minerals, equations. All the guesswork distilled into conclusions, the broad explanations snapped into specifics.
And ugh, watching people open presents is the worst. He should have just thrown this thing through the window. ]
Should be all you need, [ he says, raccoonfidgeting a twist from the box as he starts a wander for the door. ] You know where to find me if it's not.
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If she waited a few more seconds, he'd make it all the way through the door and be gone. She is very close to letting him go.]
I told de Foncé about you and Ellis. Just in case. [without looking up; picking at her fingernails as she studies the schematics.] I'm certain he'd come seek you out so there's really no pointing me even telling you now, but I suppose it's a kindness to warn you. The man is relentless.
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Olive branch? Jury's out. ]
Mr Moneybags? [ he says. ] Okay.
[ He was never the guy to lay the groundwork when it came to clients, associates, etc. They were already bought by the time he showed up. ]
What does he know?
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He knows about the direction of the project, and not to say anything to the Provost until we have a working prototype. And he knows that we will need refined lyrium for it and I have given him a new list of required materials and so on and so forth, though I have yet to share the specifics of the updated designs yet. And he will want to be involved in the testing, should it ever come to that. Evidently the man has a passion for explosives and so on.
[He knows enough, is the moral of this story. With a shrug, Wysteria begins rolling the papers back up. It takes a little work to get them all realigned and in the right size fit for cramming back into the cylinder.]
But I'm not telling you because I need your help. I'm just saying so should it fall to you, and you or de Foncé or whomever else decides something should be done with it instead of putting the whole idea on some shelf.
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Thanks for the head up, [ he says, around it, ] and try not to vanish into star dust anytime soon. I still need you for things.
[ No particular emphasis on the I or the you. But if she's as clever as all that, she's got the fundamentals of what he can offer in her hot little hands. ]
Bye, [ is barky and abrupt, as is his disappearance from the door. ]