[He nods his affirmation to Tony and keeps drying - once Tony's gone, he unties the towel from around his waist and tackles his lower half, then uses another towel on his torso, and a third on his mane. He can't really get his mane past "not dripping wet", but, hell, it's not like they didn't expect that.
He wraps the last towel around his waist again, collects his bottles, and heads back into the house. Though their tour earlier hadn't included the kitchen, it doesn't take him long to find it. Problem is, everything save the sink is practically unrecognizable - and, yeah, he can figure out what most of it does, like the stove, but using it is another thing entirely. So he just helps himself to a bottle of water from the refrigerator (and then another) and waits for Tony to find him again.]
[ while in the shower, tony ponders the mystery of his ... charge? houseguest? second savior? he can't even figure out what to label simba as, let alone his history. the part that tony's brain keeps skipping on, stuck, is the compassion in the gion's gold eyes while he held tony's shoulders at the poolside, so captivatingly human in an animal's face. tony squints at the loincloth on his bathroom floor like it holds the answer. mainly, it reminds him to grab a clean bedsheet.
two-day-old stubble removed, tony slips into an A-shirt and loose jeans (he passes on the drawstring PJ pants after he combats a yawn; can't get too comfortable yet). locating simba through jarvis, he enters the kitchen holding a folded sheet, announcing, ] Delivery for Simba: one toga-to-be–why aren't you eating? [ he pauses, surprised, before he lays the sheet nearby. ] It's okay. Dig in. Don't need to be polite.
[ on his way to the coffee machine, tony pauses again. he spots the steak, too, on a plate beside the double-door fridge/freezer, which simba apparently already dug into. he must want his steak cooked, but is thirty-plus years behind the times; and while there's a fire pit more simba's speed on the patio right outside, tony is lacking in rotating spits. but simba's not living in a mountain cave anymore. he doesn't have to rough it. ]
... You don't have to know. Just tell JARVIS what you want done and he does it. For instance, JARVIS? Heat up burner one. [ on the long kitchen island, one of the white circles on the square black surface (the only thing separating it as the stove) turns blue. ] And voila. Cool, right? [ with what he figures is a satisfactory explanation, tony presses a button on the coffee maker. ]
[At least he knows better than to put his hand on what he assumes is the burner. It looks strange, but he can grasp the concept, thank you very much. Instead, he rummages through cabinets until he finds a skillet - and, when he finds spices in the process, takes out some salt and pepper. He seasons the steak and puts it in the pan, then puts that on the glowing burner.]
Helps to know what things are so I know what to tell the fancy invisible voice.
[ tony leans his elbows back on the counter and watches while his coffee brews. ] Stove, [ he starts, then points down. ] Oven. [ then one-by-one the rest: ] Dishwasher, microwave, fridge, freezer ... and coffee.
My saving grace. [ tony smiles to himself at the inevitable look of annoyance and/or confusion. ] No, actually, it's a quick and dirty oven. Uses electromagnetic radiation instead of heat. Don't worry, it's harmless.
[He prods the steak with a fork, watching the juices sizzle in the pan. After a few moments, he flips it over to sear the other side. He might prefer his food cooked, but he clearly likes it fairly rare.]
...right. I'll just stick to what I know how to use, thanks.
[ how do you know, anyway? tony wonders, not for the first time and not the last, as he adds the cream and sugar to his coffee. ] Well, that sounds ... boring. Where's your sense of adventure?
Yeah, you might've hinted at that once or twice, [ tony drawls into his mug while he sips, eyes on simba over the rim. one cup should give him the energy he needs. ] Cattle farm, wasn't it?
Mmhm. [He slides the steak off the pan and onto the plate, then asks JARVIS to turn the burner off. It's a little awkward - he's perfectly capable of doing small tasks himself, or at least small tasks like that - but since there aren't any visible controls for the stove, he doesn't have any choice in the matter.]
Hope you don't mind my table manners, [he adds dryly before he picks the steak up and bites into it. A fork and knife aren't really an option for him - while he can certainly hold the utensils, they're laughably small and mostly useless.]
[ tony has leaned the small of his back against the kitchen island, using it as support. more concerned with nursing his coffee than any table manners, he shrugs and buries a yawn in his mug. ] Mi casa, su casa.
[He catches that yawn and glances up from his meal. Tony has the look of someone running on fumes and trying to hide it with coffee. He frowns slightly.]
You don't need to stay up on my account.
[Well, he kind of had, but surely he can sleep now, right?]
You didn't catch any shut-eye on the plane?
[Although, he realizes, even if he had, Tony's gone to a lot of trouble on his account, done a lot of traveling in a short period of time.
He finishes the steak in a couple of bites that are just a little too big, washes his hands - after a moment of peering at the faucet before waving his hand under it makes the water come on - and, just this once, leaves his dishes in the sink.]
C'mon. [He rests a hand on Tony's shoulder.] You should go to bed. The rest of the tour can wait.
[ "most people don't like it when their boss falls asleep during his meetings," tony deadpans about the plane trip. he goes unheeded and watches simba quickly finish up with a perplexed tilt of his head, then blinks in surprise when faced with the compassion in the gion's eyes again. in a moment of weakness, tony thinks, bed sounds nice, and imagines the feel of his sheets and wrapping his arms around his squishiest pillow. but he purses his mouth and squares his shoulders, shifting them back under the massive paw-hand. he can hang on till everything is done. that's what caffeine is for. ]
Actually, it can't. Pepper's here first thing in the morning, so you need to be set before then, [ tony explains. ] But hey, since you're done eating, we're one step closer.
[He looks a little exasperated when Tony refuses to sleep, and the tuft of his tail twitches around his paws, brushing against the tile.]
Just show me where to sleep, [he retorts lightly.] I can handle the rest. [He can't imagine what else he needs other than sanitary arrangements - and he can deal with that if left to his own devices.]
[ tony sips more of his coffee and motions to the hallway. ] That was our next stop, anyway. Let's go. [ when he pushes off the counter, he's more sluggish than before, expressions and movements much less animated (less wired) than when they arrived. carrying his mug with, tony stubborns his way into a stroll, gaining speed and ease with each step. it's all kinetic energy. just gotta keep moving. ]
[He picks up the sheet - he'll swap it for the towel later - and follows Tony, who keeps indicating points of interest as they walk. His keen gaze tracks his movements, and he notes how sluggish he seems to be. He follows him to one of the downstairs bedrooms and glances around. In spite of the minimalist decor, he suspects that everything in here is more expensive than he really wants to know about, and he has a moment where he feels a bit like a bull in a china shop.]
Any surprises I should know about, or are beds still normal?
[He eyes the bed. As big as it is, it's still not big enough for him if he stretches out - maybe if he curls up, but he's pretty damn bulky. He's not going to mention that to Tony.]
[ tony has lead him to the bedroom opposite of the one whose windows overlook the pool. people (pepper) are less likely to try to enter it. he lingers in the door frame and sips more coffee. ] Lie down and find out.
[ better than a rock and grass, at any rate, tony drawls mentally, remembering the bed in simba's den. from here he should check if simba's comfortable, and then, provided that, head down to the workshop and finish his checklist. he should, but ... that look in simba's eyes, the one from the poolside and again in the kitchen. that look has imprinted onto his memory. tony wants to attribute some deeper meaning or emotion to it than plain kindness, some reason or–or ulterior motive, maybe, and if he watches simba closely enough he could catch a slip-up, an indication before it's too late and he's left with even more holes in his chest–
no, that's ... that's not true. simba doesn't play things that way. he'd probably be a terrible liar like pepper, too. tony's just tired. letting his eyes shut, he tips back the mug and swallows like he's emptying a glass of alcohol. ]
I still think you look like you need this more than I do, [he quips, gesturing to the bed. It's true, though; Tony looks exhausted, like he's running on fumes, and he feels the instinctive need to take care of him.]
[ tony allows himself a second more of eyes closed after he polishes off his coffee. then, whatever needy trance that held him broken, he says, ] That one's yours. I'll get in mine soon enough. You good here?
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He wraps the last towel around his waist again, collects his bottles, and heads back into the house. Though their tour earlier hadn't included the kitchen, it doesn't take him long to find it. Problem is, everything save the sink is practically unrecognizable - and, yeah, he can figure out what most of it does, like the stove, but using it is another thing entirely. So he just helps himself to a bottle of water from the refrigerator (and then another) and waits for Tony to find him again.]
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two-day-old stubble removed, tony slips into an A-shirt and loose jeans (he passes on the drawstring PJ pants after he combats a yawn; can't get too comfortable yet). locating simba through jarvis, he enters the kitchen holding a folded sheet, announcing, ] Delivery for Simba: one toga-to-be–why aren't you eating? [ he pauses, surprised, before he lays the sheet nearby. ] It's okay. Dig in. Don't need to be polite.
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I don't know how anything works.
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... You don't have to know. Just tell JARVIS what you want done and he does it. For instance, JARVIS? Heat up burner one. [ on the long kitchen island, one of the white circles on the square black surface (the only thing separating it as the stove) turns blue. ] And voila. Cool, right? [ with what he figures is a satisfactory explanation, tony presses a button on the coffee maker. ]
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[At least he knows better than to put his hand on what he assumes is the burner. It looks strange, but he can grasp the concept, thank you very much. Instead, he rummages through cabinets until he finds a skillet - and, when he finds spices in the process, takes out some salt and pepper. He seasons the steak and puts it in the pan, then puts that on the glowing burner.]
Helps to know what things are so I know what to tell the fancy invisible voice.
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What's a microwave?
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...right. I'll just stick to what I know how to use, thanks.
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[
PROBABLY NOT FOR LONG.He pauses briefly as he looks down at the steak.]
Not that I'm complaining about the free food and all, but...you know you're gonna need more than this, right?
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Hope you don't mind my table manners, [he adds dryly before he picks the steak up and bites into it. A fork and knife aren't really an option for him - while he can certainly hold the utensils, they're laughably small and mostly useless.]
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You don't need to stay up on my account.
[Well, he kind of had, but surely he can sleep now, right?]
You didn't catch any shut-eye on the plane?
[Although, he realizes, even if he had, Tony's gone to a lot of trouble on his account, done a lot of traveling in a short period of time.
He finishes the steak in a couple of bites that are just a little too big, washes his hands - after a moment of peering at the faucet before waving his hand under it makes the water come on - and, just this once, leaves his dishes in the sink.]
C'mon. [He rests a hand on Tony's shoulder.] You should go to bed. The rest of the tour can wait.
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Actually, it can't. Pepper's here first thing in the morning, so you need to be set before then, [ tony explains. ] But hey, since you're done eating, we're one step closer.
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Just show me where to sleep, [he retorts lightly.] I can handle the rest. [He can't imagine what else he needs other than sanitary arrangements - and he can deal with that if left to his own devices.]
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Any surprises I should know about, or are beds still normal?
[He eyes the bed. As big as it is, it's still not big enough for him if he stretches out - maybe if he curls up, but he's pretty damn bulky. He's not going to mention that to Tony.]
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Fancy.
[And when he pulls it away, there's still a pawprint on the mattress before it slooooowly regains its shape.]
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no, that's ... that's not true. simba doesn't play things that way. he'd probably be a terrible liar like pepper, too. tony's just tired. letting his eyes shut, he tips back the mug and swallows like he's emptying a glass of alcohol. ]
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I need to get my pack from the basement.
[He looks like he's going to dash out of the room right now, except Tony's in the way.]
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