open post v2.0

[gotup]

action/text/pictures/whatever I'm easy

something less lazy coming in another two years

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[myheartglows]

[ prior to this, around the time tony finished modifying simba's pants, tony had his hair cut–about an inch off his bangs and elsewhere trimmed closer to his head to help with the sweaty, curly mess it became after hours in the armor, for convenience's sake more than anything. if commented on, he said something offhandedly about the helmet hair to simba, but mainly asked if he thought lina would like it.

so maybe it comes as no surprise when, now after landing and with a deep breath, tony removes the helmet, combs his fingers through his flattened bangs, and with grave concern asks, ] How's my hair?

[gotup]

[He blinks. That's...not strictly what he expected, but it's not a real surprise when dealing with someone like Tony, who's vain about his looks. Problem is, he's personally not the kind of guy who's great at judging things like that.

(The question itself stirs echoes in his memories, the scent of pomade, the feeling that he knew someone who used to ask him that regularly. But the wisps of memory are ethereal things, slipping away as quickly as they'd come.)

Dragging himself back into the present, he eyes Tony's hair. It's still sweaty, but not as unruly as it was before he got it cut. Probably acceptable.]

It's fine?

[myheartglows]

[ truth be told, tony already saw his improved helmet hair himself during the rest stop in his venice home, but it works as an excuse for this particular abrupt greeting. ] Probably the best I can hope for after being canned meat for upwards of eight hours, right? [ tony agrees with a familiar half-smile. ] You heading back? I'll walk with you. [ he tucks the helmet under his arm.

just like now, tony has sought the gion out more since their night of pool, more often going out of his way to spend time with him. he even invited simba to hang in the workshop once–so long as he didn't touch tony's stuff. ]

[gotup]

[Conveniently - depending on your definition of the word convenient - like a cat, he lacks sweat glands, meaning that he doesn't sweat when he runs or works out. He doesn't have to worry about things like body odor, and he doesn't have to shower right afterwards. Not that Tony's exactly fresh after being in the armor for an overseas flight, but that doesn't concern him.]

Better-looking than any can of Spam I've seen, [he quips dryly.] Although if my Spam had hair, I'd be worried.

[He nods in acknowledgment of Tony's question and joins him in walking back to the house.] Does DUM-E get lonely when you're gone? [The robot seems more like a puppy to him than anything else, and he knows a puppy would probably be sad after a day or two alone.] Or does JARVIS keep him company?

[myheartglows]

[ the armor's weight crushes the cut grass underfoot, so tony steers them toward the driveway. ] God no, [ he huffs. ] That's way outside of DUM-E's directive. [ do you? he'd ask simba if he didn't already guess the answer: that the gion's accustomed to loneliness, so it's fine, even if tony disagrees. ] He's a bit of a Lennie, if you catch my meaning, [ he continues about dum-e.

they haven't discussed simba's long-term goal to be set up in some remote hideaway. tony's goal should, and used to, align with the gion's, but ... there has to be a better solution. he just needs to think of one. ]

[gotup]

[It takes a moment for his mind to dredge up the reference, but it is one he recognizes (unlike so many of them), and he chuckles wryly.]

I hope you don't talk about him like that where he can hear you. Think of his self-esteem!

[He's joking, and his fangs show in a flash of white when he smiles.]

I was going to offer to play fetch with him when you're gone, but if he doesn't need the company, then that's fine.

[myheartglows]

[ they round an uphill curve. farther ahead, at the mansion's front doors, the driveway circles around with a large, abstract statue as a centerpiece. the garage entrance is tucked to the side, trailing downward, its outer walls decorated with vines. the entrance is a welcome sight after hours stuck in flight position, but tony's in no hurry. he already feels better simply being home and in present company.

even if (or maybe especially when) said company can be a sarcastic shit ... but with a good heart. ] Sounds to me like you're the one who wants the playmate, [ tony teases back. ]

[gotup]

I have JARVIS to talk to, [he demurs. And now that he actually has ways to pass the time, he doesn't mind the hours of solitude as much. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't notice Tony's absence - even if they spend most of their time apart when Tony's not off performing heroic feats (or just travelling for business), he's gotten used to those brief periods of companionship. He likes having Tony around; lions and humans are both social creatures, and spending time with someone who isn't just a voice in the air feels right. And speaking of spending time together-]

Got any dinner plans? I can throw something together while you shower.

[myheartglows]

[ cutting off idle thoughts of robot dogs or printing out a body pillow of nala giving her famous bedroom eyes (and definitely not briefly picturing himself in the pillow's stead), tony answers, ] My dinner plans were whatever I can scavenge in five minutes or less, so, yeah. Count me in.

[gotup]

Go on, make yourself presentable. [He stops in front of the main entrance and shoos Tony off towards the garage.] I'll get dinner ready.

[He really needs to figure out some simple side dishes to make, he realizes as he's scrubbing his hands in the sink. Not for himself, but Tony needs more to eat than just meat. He's already got pork chops defrosting - a solid dozen of them - so he sets a couple aside for Tony and starts searing them in the pan, three at a time. He's at least gotten good enough at basic meat preparation that he doesn't need JARVIS to help him out anymore. It's nothing fancy, but he's pretty sure Tony's happy enough to have fresh-cooked food instead of leftovers (not that there are many leftovers in the fridge with him around).]

[myheartglows]

[ some time later tony announces his reappearance with a low drawl of, ] Wow. Meat. What a surprise, [ and a crooked smile as he passes simba by for the cabinets. hair already dried and styled (it'll just need touch-up in the morning), he wears comfy home clothes: a t-shirt, sneakers, and loose (for him) pants. from a bottom cabinet tony pulls out a bottle of white wine, and from the top, one–no, two glasses. ]

[gotup]

You don't like it, get a rabbit for your roommate.

[The Brooklyn accent is thick for a moment, one of those there and gone things. He sounds amused, though, rather than insulted, and he finishes plating the pork chops as Tony gets the wine and glasses. His plate is more like a platter, piled high with meat, while Tony has a normal-sized plate. He pauses for a moment when going past the fridge and sets his burden down to rummage inside; when he takes the plates over to the table, Tony's has a single (unpeeled, uncut) carrot on it with the meat.]

Better?

[myheartglows]

[ tony's back is to the kitchen as he pours their glasses at the table, so he only sees the carrot once simba sets his plate down. he stares at it, then says to the gion, ] You are so lucky I like you.

[gotup]

[His whiskers bristle in a leonine smile, although it's accompanied by a more human-looking smirk.]

It's a balanced diet, isn't it?

[myheartglows]

[ tony sits down. ] Oh, I'll eat it. [ brandishing the carrot like a pointer stick, he adds, ] But with full complaints to the chef, [ before he snaps off a piece with his teeth. his face scrunches. ]

[gotup]

What's up, Doc? [he quips, reminded of Bugs Bunny chomping off the end of a carrot in the cartoons.]

[myheartglows]

[ tony quickly swallows and reaches for his glass. ] Points deducted for using the lowest hanging fruit of carrot jokes. [ he practically rinses his mouth with the wine. ]

[gotup]

Tough audience, I see.

[He sits down and starts in on his own plate, which is thankfully vegetable-free. With his fork and knife, he's able to cut his meat into pieces and pick them up - even if bite-size for him is still considerably larger than it would be for a normal human.]

I guess I won't be starting that career as a comedian anytime soon.

[myheartglows]

[ tony follows suit in cutting his meat, albeit into smaller pieces (though still a mouthful for him). ] Sorry to dash your dreams. But there could yet be other opportunities for you out there. [ sounds encouraging. what's the catch? ] Maybe something about physical prowess, like sports, or just ... being a team mascot. [ and there it is with a soft, teasing smirk. thoughtfully to himself: ] Don't the Kings use a cat?

[ "slamson the lion, sir," jarvis chimes in.

without a beat missed tony happily spreads his arms, knife and fork and all, as if to say, "there ya have it. perfect. social integration achieved." not that he's pushing for that. ]

[gotup]

A mascot, [he echoes, and for a moment, he remembers being on stage, feeling powerless to do anything real to help, like nothing more than a- well, a circus animal.

No, it's not something he wants to revisit.]

I'm fine here.

[There's a finality to his tone like that's the end of the discussion.]

[myheartglows]

[ simba isn't ribbing him back. must've hit a sore spot. ] Yeah, yeah. Your hermit thing. [ tony returns to his plate, but throws out in a sassy mutter, ] Though you exposed yourself to me–a couple times literally–and that hasn't turned out too bad.

[gotup]

Because I saved your life.

[He's under no illusion that Tony would have taken him in without his altruism paving the way first. It's not any judgement of Tony's kindness, but his own outlook on the world and how he expects them to react to someone who's little better than an animal.]

[myheartglows]

[ a small, secretive smile. ] See? You're great at first impressions, [ tony says and shovels the first bite of pork into his mouth, breaking eye contact. ]

[gotup]

[The way he rolls his eyes at Tony's remark is completely human - but he does that a lot with Tony around. There's just something about Tony that inspires that kind of behavior.

He has to pinch the stem of his wine glass between his thumb and index finger to hold it, and he's still overly cautious about it - tweezing shards of glass out of his hand isn't anyone's idea of a good time. He's been trying harder to drink like a human, but sipping just isn't something he's built for, so he compromises by tipping the glass in a little at a time.]

JARVIS showed me the news footage from your little race.

[myheartglows]

[ said race turned dire when the pilot's jetpack malfunctioned and careened toward a billboard. iron man saved the day and the pilot, of course, if not the jetpack or the billboard. now, normally tony respects german engineering, and the race began as friendly competition (that he knew he'd win), but when he safely dropped the pilot off in front of the company's owner and the many cameras, disdain laced through his words. "try again. actually... don't. best for everyone involved," he said, and took off. not-so great for building a partnership, but fantastic for PR in the german market. ]

Yeah? What'd you think? [ tony asks offhandedly, watching for simba's reaction. the gion's become one of the people whose opinion actually kinda matters. ]