fe_male | memeboxing

[ She will, as she starts to figure out what it is she wants, but at the moment she's still just trying to figure out how to ease the tension crawling under her spine. For the moment she just walks forward and stands behind him, looking down and over at the project on the table. ]

Which part's not cooperating?

[ She can practically smell the irritation in the room, and some stupidly destructive part of her wants to push at it. Another part of her wants to hit something. Mostly, though, she's coming to the conclusion that what she really wants, and more than that what she needs, is him. ]

[ Tony's not quite as good at noticing things that are happening to other people - there's a number of reasons here that neither merit the commitment required to delineate them, nor would fit in the space - so he's not going to notice that there's something a little weird with her until he turns to look at her in a few moments. Right now he's swiping quickly through pages of information, scanning each one and processing - or simply remembering - the information much faster than one would consider reasonable. It is, annoyingly enough, generally when Tony is frustrated or otherwise not in a positive mood that he operates the most efficiently. A consummate artist, just with metal and numbers rather than anything generally considered artistic. ]

It. Most of it anyway. Something's causing the material to short; it keeps degrading too quickly so it won't keep any useful amount of coded information; I need it to like, there are certain processes that need to happen more efficiently in order for it to actually be something that can be considered disposable on a fiscal level, and right now it's far too expensive for that. Even I would take a second thought about buying a notepad of this, as it is. No I wouldn't, but you get the picture. It should be working, but right now it's good for maybe the data equivalent of three and a half games of minesweeper and then it just turns into a seventy-three thousand dollar not-quite-paper plane.

[ Super annoyed. And he's still kept his attention on the table, albeit with occasional gesticulations to emphasize his point. But. He pauses after the last comment, looking a little higher, to a vague point in the room, and then turns to look up at her for a moment. Careful scrutiny, blank expression, but he doesn't see what he's looking for and the irritation clouds back into his features and fogs over his face and he returns to what he was doing. ] You came back with bags.

[ She doesn't really expect him to notice anything off, because sometimes she forgets about the whole Sentinel thing and assumes that, like everyone else, she can successfully fool him into thinking she's fine when she isn't. She's generally really good at that, so it's not an entirely ridiculous belief except for the whole Sentinel thing. But for right now she has most of her attention narrowed solely on him and what he's doing, hopefully enough of a distraction that she doesn't have to think about what's in her own head. She watches the information flashing by, picking up what she can of it. His explanation she listens to carefully, eyes flicking between him and what he's working with. ]

How long have you been working on it?

[ At that look back her face shutters immediately, blank and smooth as she meets his eyes, but clearly that wasn't the right choice because he looks back away and she has to curb the immediate flare of frustration. It was an instinctive reaction, the immediate 'everything's fine here why are you looking' attempt at calm neutrality, but if she'd considered it a little bit more she - doesn't matter now. She's just got to figure out her next step now. ] Went to the grocery store. Just some basics. Why?

[ It's one of the myriad of ways in which he compares himself to other Sentinels and comes up wanting, when he bothers to think about it at all. Currently, he's a little preoccupied, but later on the thought may come to mind. ]

A while. Weeks. Maybe months, I don't know. I don't keep track of the timeframe unless Pepper's riding my ass.

[ Blank is, in itself, not really all that positive, because he's well versed in crafting masks out of the tissue of one's own face, whether by necessity or choice, and when he isn't this caught up in something else, he pays more attention to a lack of emotion just as much as he pays attention to too much of the same. But if she's going to stay standing. Whatever. He'll let her watch his frustration spill out over the table as the thing continues to not work and he can't work out why. ] Curiosity. JARVIS said there were bags on the counter in the kitchen but based on the weight he couldn't discern what was in them.

[ That one can be chalked up more to her own frequent inability to remember that there are people in the world who are capable of reading her at a glance, in part because it's a feeling that in moments like this she really hates. ]

I don't think I've seen it before. [ Still watching, carefully, her own gaze slowly turning more speculative now that he's no longer looking. Masks are something they both know well, and right now she's far more interested in his than in her own. ] Well, groceries, an unknown element to him. [ And then she's crouching beside him, swiping her hand over the table to turn it off and flattening her hand over one of his. ] You're just irritating yourself.

[ He has words lined up for the first parts. He can tell her that she hasn't seen this because it's honestly just a little thing, it doesn't mean much, but that doesn't mean it's any less irritating as hell when it doesn't work properly time and time again. He could defend his AI, because excuse her, JARVIS was awesome, he loved JARVIS, and it wasn't JARVIS' fault if the bagboy put the things in the bags incorrectly, or she managed to swing paper bags and JARVIS had no hope of discerning what was in them at all.

But no, he was absently listening to her until suddenly everything he was looking at disappears. She's just as suddenly kneeling next to him, telling him something about himself. He hates that. Not as much coming from her, but in general. So as she does all this, he turns to look at her with no small amount of ire. ] Yeah? Then o! great one, please, tell me what I should actually be doing. [ Trying to pull the files up again anyway, as he doubts she'll give him much of a reaction - at least, not one worth stopping work for. ]

[ JARVIS is awesome, she's mostly just mocking the fact that groceries are not really a thing that seem to land in this house too often and leaving an edge to her words that's not normally there, and she should feel worse about that than she does but she's all sharp edges today, defense mechanisms to keep anything from touching the raw parts of her.

Ire wasn't necessarily what she was looking for, but in some way it fits. She wouldn't know how to handle kindness right now anyways, wouldn't know what to do with it. She's silent for a moment, trying to figure out the best answer here, hand sliding to his wrist and gripping tightly in an attempt to get him to stop trying to bring up the files again. ] Whatever I tell you to do. [ Watching him instead of the table, grasp never loosening. She's not sure that was the right move but nothing in her face gives that away, set and steady. If it wasn't, she'll adjust her options, use his mind to figure out what the next good one is, and keep going from there. ]

[ If he were in a vaguely better mood then that might have registered properly, but Tony is moderately combative at best and downright confrontational when he's anything less than that. Confrontational when he cares to be, anyway. Evasive as fuck at the same time. It all sounds confusing but it goes together pretty well anyway.

He doesn't actually fight against her grip but he doesn't stop moving his hand entirely until she speaks again, and at that point it's not just his hand but all of him that pauses. He'd since returned his gaze to the table - even if there weren't actually files on it, he could still focus on the component parts strewn about the surface - and at her words whatever thought processes that were still devoted to the project (if there were a way to allow the entirety of the sheet to be connective, no wasted space, but where would that store the data then? along the side, perhaps? a slim memory bar to be perforated and removed for transferal) skitter to staggered standstills and twist and tumble into thinking about the new idea instead.

He doesn't have any true problem with the idea, and to be honest, it's very much not unappealing, he's just not sure how submissive he actually feels right now. He is, in fact, pretty sure he'd fight her most of the way. But maybe that's the point of it, because it feels pretty boring pretty fast when you just lie there and take whatever's coming.

So it's about the closest she'll actually get to an acceptance when he looks at her again and says: ] And what makes you think I'm going to listen?

[ It works irritatingly well, really. It's not necessarily a good thing, because if you don't know how to combat it it's highly effective at keeping people out.

She likes that abrupt pause to him, the way she can arrest him with a few words. There's a little more true confidence in the shape of her back as she watches him now, not just the pulled tight tension of frustration. It's almost calming. Not enough, not enough, but it's good.

Honestly, she wants him to fight her. Not genuinely, of course, if at any moment she received any indication that he didn't want to do this she'd go. Find something she could hit and beat it into the ground. It's just that she's found his resistance, the push and pull between them, the shape of whatever stands between them and the things he'll let her do to him - it's all a great deal more effective in letting out tension than anything else she knows. It's half and half the control and the trust, balanced into something that pulls her out of the places she could go so easily alone. ]

Because. [ Her hand tightens around his wrist, hard and immovable, her free hand sliding onto his thigh as her fingers curl in. Possessive, hard, sure. Her lips are at his ear now, not quite touching. ] You'll like it best if you do.

[ You say that like it isn't the end result he thinks he - and everyone around him - is better off with. Tony stays by himself. This is how things work.

He sits there quietly as she starts to reply, and then stays quiet as she tightens and places her holds on him, then continues speaking. She's right next to him now, and he didn't notice that, too busy with the weight of the hand on his wrist and what her free hand on his thigh was doing. He doesn't move when she's suddenly speaking in his ear - hasn't, in fact, since he paused a few seconds ago the first time. You'll like it best if you do. He doesn't know how to say yes to that because he's not sure he wants to right now. He can't deny the appeal, but maybe if she needs it too. Maybe... ] And you know that, do you? [ Antagonistic, but weaker. Fighting for fighting's sake, and just because he still feels like it, dammit. ] What did you have in mind? [ Although he doubts she'll tell him. That's part of the fun. ]

[ But she doesn't like it at all. In fact she thinks it's a terrible end result.

He's so still, under her hands, and somehow it just makes her more aware of him right there next to her, the potential of the next space of time. It's all in the handling of it, and she's still on semi shaky ground because she hasn't tried to do this when they're both this frustrated. Last time she'd had the advantage of a clear head and forethought, but right now she's figuring it out as she goes. ] I do know that. [ It's quiet but no less sure, his continued antagonism fairly expected. ] You'll see. [ A certainty, the way she says it, as if of course he's going to say yes. ]

[ No it isn't.

He's got to work out how much he wants to say yes. He doesn't look at her, but he lowers his shields just a little bit so she can sense some of the processes Tony's running here. What he wants to do is just say yes. Whatever she wants to do to him, he doesn't care. He'll follow blindly. He is just that far gone today, and apparently so is she.

But he doesn't want to just say yes. He wants her to make him submit. To grab him and haul him off to wherever she wants to do that. So he's torn. Lots of torn, and he doesn't think about how maybe she'll see this, and more just the fact that it's there. So the most noncommittal - although, out of Tony, it's basically a commitment - ] Where are we doing it?

[ Anything that leaves her out isn't okay by her.

She takes a short breath at the lowering of his shields, leans in a little closer to him as she sorts through what he's given her, determines her next step. Regardless of her mood, that he's okay with whatever happens is incredibly important to her, and that sort-of permission is just what she wants. ]

Stand up. [ As she stands herself, hand still on his wrist pulling and the hand that was on his thigh grabbing under his arm to leverage him up. He's bigger than her, but it's not by too much and she's spent most of her life training in one way or another. She's more than capable of finding a way to force him up. ] I didn't say you could ask questions.

[ Okay Rudolph.

It's a little awkward, being pulled up and trying to stand up at the same time, especially when you're not convinced yet that you want to be doing the latter, so the process is a little ungainly, but at the end of it he's standing, so it doesn't really matter.

The last statement makes him finally look at her since they've started talking, and it's quick and it's just as much a dare as it is the questions he's not allowed to ask now. Which means that what he does say - because she hasn't said he can't talk entirely yet, and pushing boundaries and limits and buttons is what Tony does best - isn't actually a question. Technically. ] So I'm not allowed to talk.

[ hey

Her face stays calm, but him pushing is somewhere along the lines of exactly what she wants, something to struggle against that isn't going to hurt anyone. She meets his look, raising her eyebrows as she drops her hands on him, takes a step back. ]

You can talk when I say you can. [ There's a reason behind her giving him the order she knows he has the most difficulty following. And with a jerk of her head in its general direction ] Bedroom. [ To forestall any hesitation, or maybe to encourage it - even she doesn't know right now. ] You can walk or I can make you.

[ That just gets her narrowed eyes for a half second, because he knew that one was coming and even despite that doesn't feel any differently than normal about it. Sometimes it's an optimistic 'well that's not going to happen' and sometimes it's an antagonistic 'well that's not going to happen', but either way regardless it's not going to happen.

Although the second part, that's kind of interesting. Just as much and as briefly as his eyes narrowed, they widen, considering just how that would work and how willing he is to test it. There's a lot of testing, happening here at the get go, but it's not as though he can't test every step of the process, right? Testing continues until you get tired and just declare something 'as-is'.

Or something. But either way he pauses, stops, wasn't moving in the first place. Go ahead then. Make him. ]

[ She was pretty sure that would be about how he reacted, but regardless she's said it, and that means he knows there will be consequences of some form if he doesn't listen. Though it can be hard to tell with talking if he's testing boundaries on purpose or just because he's terrible at not talking.

Though with this not moving part he's definitely testing boundaries, and she frowns for a moment. She hadn't considered the exact specifics, and it requires delving back into history for a moment, back to when she was still restraining people but trying very hard not to injure them.

When she does move it's fast and silent, reaching to grab his wrist so that she can go for twisting his arm behind his back in a fair standard restraint, fingers reaching to press lightly on the inside of his palm. ] Resisting would not be pleasant. [ It's a bluff, to an extent. She'd let go before she ever let herself actually hurt him, but if she can get his arm behind his back manuevering without hurting him won't be too difficult. ]

[ He wasn't sure what he was expecting from her, but he was reasonably certain that what she went with was one of those things and that he might have been expecting. Suddenly, his arm is wrenched up behind his back, well that's the upper body fairly immobile, and he stumbles in the direction she wanted and stops again to look at her. A Gauging look, weighing her up again for this, because they've done this a few times. ] That's hot. That you know that. [ He's amiable to cooperating now, but beyond that, he wants to see what she has in mind. ]

[ She'd roll her eyes, but instead she just meets his look as head on as she can, certainty and what reassurance she can muster up in her eyes. She knows what she's doing. If he wants to let her do this, and everything he's shown her and done so far indicates that he does, he can trust her. Frustrated and angry and raw, he can still trust her. It's a constant that she will never let change. ] I didn't say you could talk. [ Short and sharp as she starts to try to move them both forward, working at heading him towards the bedroom. ]

[ He moves with her easily enough at this point, looking forward again - that was a threshold he was testing and she basically just slammed through it, so he doesn't have any reason to keep being difficult about it. He does try to shift and relieve some of the pressure she's putting on his arm, but he doubts that'll work very well, and it's mostly just for something to do on the short walk to the bedroom, since he's already having to clench the muscles in his jaw to keep from saying any one of the steady stream of things ready to come out of his mouth. ]

[ She lets him shift his arm some, trying to keep it from being more than a little uncomfortable, then lets go once they reach the bedroom, turning around to close the door behind them before she circles around to face him, reaching out to slide her fingers roughly down the side of his jaw as she watches him intently, steadier by the moment. ] Raise your arms. Normal safeword? [ Just to be certain. ]

[ He rotates his shoulder a little bit, testing it - she'd been stretching it, holding it back there like that, which wasn't unpleasant but wasn't really all that helpful either way. The commands... He questions them, but whether it was the careful look in her eye, or the rough touch of her hand at his jaw, he feels inclined to oblige, slowly lifting both arms simultaneously over his head. Depending on what she does, this bares his torso, eventually, and he can't say he's not excited by the prospect.

In regards to the last question. ] Yes. [ He could have nodded, could have done anything, but he chose to say it. What will you do with that, Max? ]

[ She slides her hands under his shirt, lightly sliding over skin for a moment before she starts to pull the shirt up and over his head. Arms up like that can get genuinely uncomfortable quickly, and she's going to avoid that for the moment after having force marched him in here.

But oh, that's definitely not allowed. She tosses the shirt aside, slides a hand into his hair and tugs backwards as she leans forward, close as she can without touching. ] You may lower your arms, slowly. Did I say you could talk? [ She knows it was on purpose, knows he's pushing. It's strange, the conflicting feelings she has from that, because at once she's so very okay with him pushing but wants to make him do what she says. ]

[ At least, though, when he does listen, he listens fairly well; his arms very slowly and steadily fall back down to rest at his sides as he otherwise stays quite still apart from the way his adam's apple shifts when he swallows against the tightness in his throat at his head being pulled back. There are a few points on the ceiling where there isn't really anything to look at but are where his gaze bounces back and forth between regardless. He doesn't respond to the question, whether by talking or humming some sort of acknowledgement, just waits for whatever she decides to do next. ]

[ She gives a short nod of approval at his arms, but the majority of her attention stays on watching his face, waiting for him to answer. At the least he doesn't start talking again, but she studies him for a moment regardless, waiting to see if there's going to be any response. A question asked deserves some kind of answer, but he's still being stubborn and she still craves the fight that gives her. She breathes out, slides her hand out of his hair and cups it on the back of his neck for a moment before taking a step back. ] Get down on your knees. [ In one respect a temporary measure so that she can get things she needs to get and clarify plans in her head beyond the initial tumult of desire and frustration. On another level, she wants to see this, wants to see him do this for her, and there's a quiet need in her own eyes, buried as well as she can. ]

it's an amazing kind of crazy

why thank you

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agh suddenly exhaustion i will hit the rest of these up in the morning

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these physical descriptions are at least halfway accurate i... think

seem real enough for me

i knew my sister working at a troubled youth camp would come in handy

that's /hilarious/

tony cast as angry fourteen year old girl

okay now r00d

but is it inaccurate

not according to his proclivity for emoticons and blingee

lmao yes i'm totally right