Sooooo bored.
Inoshi is bored. Or maybe it's because I'm still angsty about Avengers #9 and it'll be a while before we get #10. Plus the fact thanks to IIM #500 my faith in Fraction heading up FEAR is a little more then shaky. Anyways, I had considered drawing something, but mainly I'm too lazy to do things I have in my head, so I decided to look at my Noir fanfic I was dabbling in before during the Secret Santa. Re-reading it after such a long while, I can see so many different things I would need to do an work on in order to be satisfied with it.
I just thought I'd share a small sample with you. There is no editing or anything of the like - just strictly the raw format without any in-depth thought. You know those moments where you just write then try to make sense of it later. So here we are...
September 10th, 1939.
From last we met, I recounted how we entered the isolated European country of Latveria, located in the Banat region, to confront the madman “Doctor Doom.” On whose orders I can not say - for I have been sworn to secrecy, but I do believe it will not be the last I will see of our informant. Given recent events, I suspect we may be traipsing off again soon. For now, we have finally returned home once more to New York, yet so much has changed that I can scarcely believe less then half a year has gone by. My name is Pepper Potts, but most might known me under my pseudonym of “Frank Finlay.”
With the invasion of Poland by Nazi Germany on the first, war has finally broken out in Europe. Tony Stark had long since suspected that the Nazi party would be launching an attack. If the alliance with fascist Italy back in May was any indication, then uncovering the secret division of Poland within the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact with the Soviets had certainly confirmed it. Tony remains non-commental about the more finer details of his findings, but he seems to be carrying a heavier burden as of late. I swear he truly believes that he should have prevented the Luftwaffe's (German Air Force) strikes all on his own. Honestly, I wonder if he forgets that he's just a man and not some super-powered robot.
With James Rhodes off in the Paris Arms, Tony greatly worries over the man's safety now that France and Brittan have declared war. I suspect he is only further irritated that America has declared it's neutrality. “It's only a matter of time, Ms. Potts,” he tells me, “before those Nazi bastards come knocking on our doors. It's not only Europe either. I'm sure Japan's expansionism through China has gathered some attention; they've already captured Hainan Island.”
At least President Roosevelt launched the “Neutrality” patrol. They have been positioned along th.....
~*~*~*~
Pepper furrowed her brows as she stared at the notebook within her lap. Her pen tapped the page in thought before she sighed heavily with disappointment. This was starting to sound more like a news reel then an actual “Marvels: A Magazine of Men's Adventures” story. The bare minimum facts and nothing more, but honestly, what could she really do? The “New Adventures of Tony Stark” as of late had mostly consisted of covert missions strictly in the “need to know.”
For instance, take Tony's very first assignment from Fury as an example. Exposing the Nazi sympathizer Victor Von Doom and stopping his plans for an automaton army was all well and good. Sugar coating the fact they broke international border treaties to attack a foreign dictator without the Presidents approval or knowledge, and omitting the details of handing over illegally obtained resources and/or data to a secret non-government affiliated group called “S.H.I.E.L.D.” was another matter entirely.
Oh and lets not forget one of the latest capers of infiltrating Soviet territory and to steal certain incriminating documents. No one could have anticipated facing off against Anton Vanko, the “Crimson Dynamo.” Good Lord, her hair was still singed from those blasted electrical attacks. Pepper still had doubts about their informant on that one. “Blackwidow” would be an ironic name indeed.
And of course...there was battle over Warsaw. She paused, hearing nothing but her own breath before her eyes closed shut. She could still recall the sent of ash and blood filtering through the air. It was horrific, watching as civilians were used as human shields. There was nothing she could do - nothing Tony could do but retreat nearly half dead aboard his zepplin, while Jarvis and Rhodey tried to patch him together. There were just too many enemies and not enough allies to put up a descent fight - and that was before the German naval and infantry arrived. Still, Tony was beating himself pretty badly over it.
Looking down, she tore out the page from her journal, crumpled it and tossed it in a near by waste bin. She would have to rework and pass it by Fury before sending it to the editors. That in itself was even more bothersome, but at least Fury knew how to utilize the benefit of keeping up appearances. Still, it wouldn't do if an American icon such as Tony Stark being reported anywhere near Poland...or Europe for that matter. Especially after FDR officially stated that they would stay out of the war.
Things were quickly becoming rather complicated, and Pepper was starting to have a headache. Why was she doing this again? Shaking her head clear her confidence surged. She wasn't one of Marvels' top writer for nothing. She had the skills to successfully keep the editors at the magazine happy, and keep Tony's public image in tact. At the very least, she was doing this to prove that a woman can be successful in a man's world. First things first. She needed to rescue the “hero” from himself.
With that last thought, she pushed herself up from her seat and made her way towards Tony's office past the main hallway. She didn't bother to knock on the massive doors that greeted her and strolled right in. The afternoon sun had long past set, painting the darkened office an eerie blue. Apparently Tony hadn't bothered with the lights, allowing illumination from the hallway to spill into the room throwing his figure into a sharp relief. A half empty bottle of brandy sat to his left as he nursed a tumbler against parted lips. A somber mood to match that of it's owner indeed.
“Tony?” Pepper called quietly. Her voice died, uncertainty welling in her stomach. What exactly was she supposed to say again? What hadn't she, Rhodey or Jarvis said already? “I need to discuss the next issue of your series...”
“Pepper...” he began voice low setting his glass down.
“No, we've already talked about this, Tony.” She marched forward, the heels of her shoes sharp and decisive. “What happened in Poland wasn't anyone fault except for those evil men. You did everything you could, but even you couldn't have been in multiple places all at once. And don't you even dare start with how you should have planned something or whatever cockamamie notion you have in your fool head.” She placed a hand on her hip daring a rebuttal.
Tony mulled over his thoughts in silence. “That was the point of finding the Molotov Pact wasn't it?” Blue eyes simmered in his storminess. “The point of which I risked all our lives and nearly got us killed by Vanko. It's my fault that we didn't get the information back to Fury in time. I should have guessed an invasion the very moment we discovered Doom's robot army.” Tony offered a self-depreciated smile looking every pit as pathetic as he felt.
“Exactly how self-important are you anyways? Last I checked, Mr. Stark, the world does not simply turn due to the actions of one man. Everyone plays their own part in the events of things, so forgive me for wondering when exactly did the fate of this war rest solely on your shoulders!”
Tony stared openly at her; his drink frozen in it's motion towards awaiting lips. Pepper blinked back her own surprise. The awkward silence was suddenly cut short with Tony's choked laughter.
“Why, Ms. Potts, you do have a certain way with words,” his breath was shaky; tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. “It's no wonder you are in the journalism field.”
“Sir...” the sudden ice in her voice was apparent. Well, at least it was progress, even though she was pretty certain he hadn't changed his opinion on the matter whatsoever. But, it was better then him holing himself up in either his lab or office for the better part of two weeks. “As I was saying, the next issue with Marvels...”
~*~*~*~
The next few days passed rather quickly in Tony's opinion. Still no word from Fury for the need of the “metal monstrosity” as the man had so graciously dubbed it. Sure, Shellhead was a bit on the bulky side, but the armor was still beautiful - and lethal. Lethal enough for Fury to want his own version for SHIELD. Tony had naturally refused for two reasons. One for insulting his armor...it was his baby after all, and two, he remembered what happened with “arsenal” in the Nazi's hands. Watching his father's work used for such... Tony closed his eyes. If his own tech fell into the wrong hands - no - just no.
He pushed all other thoughts away and focused now at the task at hand. Leaning back in his plush leather chair, he stared at the resumes stacked in front of his desk. Marvels had wanted to increase cover prices by 30.2%. A small frown crossed his face in thought. What made them think that the average person would be willing to accept the new price-line? It's true people were just coming out of the Depression, but the American people wanted more bang for their buck. If anything the raised prices would most likely turn readership away.
“And for what? To compensate for the 'perceived' increase of printing costs...” Tony mumbled his disbelief. “Those self-right bastards. We haven't even touched upon the thought or need for war rationing and they are already jumping the gun this early in the game...” his head tilted in thought. “Not that I can say I actually blame them per-say. Considering the progression of the current situation...I don't think it'll be too long before America does entangle themselves in the war.”
“I've already argued with the chief editor on our refusal to up costs. We manage to come to an agreement. If we can hook and introduce a new readership that should increase profits enough to secure a fixed contract with the printers.”
“Ah and thus we are here,” Tony waved his hand through the air giving a sly grin. “As they say...a picture is worth a thousand or so on. A new fetching cover art should draw in some new blood. I know for a fact that the only reason my old friend Tiberius Stone even sells any of his arid tales is because of the artist he's paired with.” He placed the pile of papers off to the side, quite content to ignore them. “I dare say the art embellishes him a little too much if you catch my drift. Of course, none of my stories suffer from the mundane. Though strictly off the record, Ms. Potts, J.R. Jr. always had a way of making my face much too blocky...”
“Tony...”
“Oh, but of course, credit where credit is due. Where would I be without my lovely chronicler?” Tony gave his best charming smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling with mirth. “I don't suppose you would be able sit through these interviews. You have much more experience in the field, and I've been meaning to upgrade the..”
“Not a chance, buster.” Pepper cut off with a cool air. She smiled and walked over to his desk to push the paperwork back into place. “I'm your chronicler not your assistant, and I still have to re-write the manuscript. So, here you are.”
Tony watch Pepper walk away, notebook in hand. The soft click of her heels echoing followed by the gentle shut of the door. No - he was not pouting. He was merely contemplating his next action. With a resigned sigh, he reached over pressed the button for the intercom.
“Mrs. Arbogast, please send in the first applicant.”
~*~*~*~
Leaning over his oak desk Tony stared at the gangly youth in front of him with a critical eye. He'd been through a couple of gentlemen already. Immonen was good - Eaglesham had a very dynamic approach - and Molina had a comedic air. He steepled his fingers watching the nervous blond shift from foot to foot and occasionally smooth out the none existent wrinkles from his shirt. THIS was the magazine's new rising cover artist? His eyes traced over the resume. Never mind that he looked like a beanpole; the fellow looked as if he was about to keel over at any minute.
“So,” Tony offered his devil may care smile, “why don't you tell me a little about yourself Mr...”
“Rogers, sir.” The young man stood a little straighter and looked Tony directly in the eye. “Steve Rogers. Editor Schaefer gave my recommendation to Ms. Potts. They said that you were looking to bring something new to Marvels.”
“And you believe you are the man for the job?” Tony quirked an eyebrow.
“Yes, sir.”
Tony resisted the urge to show his surprise. The firm tone and underlying confidence in the response was somewhat impressive. “Says here,” his fingertips traced along the black ink of the paper, “you just entered the New York Art Academy at the beginning of the year. Specializing in illustration I see. How did you come to Marvels in such a short time?
“Well, sir. I sold a few pieces here and there at a local gallery. I also take commission work and help at the local studios in order to pay for school. I suppose my work somehow found it's way to the right people. Said they liked my style and that I have a good concept of color and form.”
“Quite an accomplishment. Getting your name out there is one of the best things you can do. How old are you?”
“Twenty-two this past July, Mr. Stark.”
Tony had no idea what it was about this fellow that was drawing him in, but something tugged at his gut as if to say this was important. Steve looked so young though. He would have never guessed he was in his early twenties. Perhaps he was just getting old - strike that. In fact, perish the thought! He cleared his throat.
“Well, Mr. Rogers, I trust you've read some of my adventures. I've traveled to many places and have the grandest of adventures. I usually provide pictures and references when I can, but the majority of what you'll have to go by is Ms. Potts' account. There were times when J.R. Jr. was quite dedicated and actually tagged along...” Steve's eyes magnified comically and Tony quickly amended “but that was only once. After that he swore he'd never follow me anywhere again,” a small laugh rumbled at the memory.
“I can assure you, sir. I will perform to my utmost ability and then some.”
“And if I ask you to follow me into a jungle? Or take you aboard my zeppelin and fly through an air fight?” Not that Tony actually would. It's not like he wanted to kill his artist.
Steve considered, “I would be there, Mr. Stark.”
Again, Tony was surprised. He wasn't sure if Steve was foolish or dedicated. It was like there were two different people standing in front of him. No, that wasn't exactly right. There was this person that held a lot of spirit that was masked by a appearance of frailty. Tony like him.
“I think we'll work well together, Mr. Rogers. Call me Tony.”
“Only if you call me Steve. I look forward to working with you,” a goofy grin crossed his face.
___________________
And there you have the basic opening scene...guh it needs work.
[grins] Actually, I almost feel like we are just coming into the say 4th or 5th chapter of a story. I seriously wouldn't mind starting right where Ironman Noir, which is something I implied with Pepper's starting chronicle. I also realize that people aren't going to be familiar enough with the events of WWII to really grasp what I was alluding to in the beginning with infiltration of Russia and the attack on Poland. [scratches head] Plus I need to work on laying description down.
If you are curious as to what the story was, the initial prompt was to have Marvel's leading cover artist kidnapped. Tony goes to rescue his employee and Steve could either help him or be the employee. And it's supposed to be a very manly adventure with no crying and the like. But now since I don't have to fit the prompt to the letter, I can stretch the parameters a bit. If you are wondering, I chose pre-serum Steve for a very specific reason...mainly since this entire thing could actually be a prelude to what I actually want.
Tony: and that would be?
Inoshi: You trying to help Steve cross-dress...
Tony: are you serious?
Inoshi: [nod] Yeah, remember when Steve was all dressing like a Granny? Well, I want you to say, "When you mentioned corset, I thought this would be a lot more risqué" and then be all DDDDD8
Tony: ....
Inoshi: That and I want you to blow up with a plane
Tony: O_o WHAT?!
Inoshi: Imagine the drama!
Tony: You sadist...[glares]
Inoshi: Oh come on...Bucky lived...you'll probably be okay...
Tony: HOW?
Inoshi: errrr...Magic?
I just thought I'd share a small sample with you. There is no editing or anything of the like - just strictly the raw format without any in-depth thought. You know those moments where you just write then try to make sense of it later. So here we are...
September 10th, 1939.
From last we met, I recounted how we entered the isolated European country of Latveria, located in the Banat region, to confront the madman “Doctor Doom.” On whose orders I can not say - for I have been sworn to secrecy, but I do believe it will not be the last I will see of our informant. Given recent events, I suspect we may be traipsing off again soon. For now, we have finally returned home once more to New York, yet so much has changed that I can scarcely believe less then half a year has gone by. My name is Pepper Potts, but most might known me under my pseudonym of “Frank Finlay.”
With the invasion of Poland by Nazi Germany on the first, war has finally broken out in Europe. Tony Stark had long since suspected that the Nazi party would be launching an attack. If the alliance with fascist Italy back in May was any indication, then uncovering the secret division of Poland within the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact with the Soviets had certainly confirmed it. Tony remains non-commental about the more finer details of his findings, but he seems to be carrying a heavier burden as of late. I swear he truly believes that he should have prevented the Luftwaffe's (German Air Force) strikes all on his own. Honestly, I wonder if he forgets that he's just a man and not some super-powered robot.
With James Rhodes off in the Paris Arms, Tony greatly worries over the man's safety now that France and Brittan have declared war. I suspect he is only further irritated that America has declared it's neutrality. “It's only a matter of time, Ms. Potts,” he tells me, “before those Nazi bastards come knocking on our doors. It's not only Europe either. I'm sure Japan's expansionism through China has gathered some attention; they've already captured Hainan Island.”
At least President Roosevelt launched the “Neutrality” patrol. They have been positioned along th.....
~*~*~*~
Pepper furrowed her brows as she stared at the notebook within her lap. Her pen tapped the page in thought before she sighed heavily with disappointment. This was starting to sound more like a news reel then an actual “Marvels: A Magazine of Men's Adventures” story. The bare minimum facts and nothing more, but honestly, what could she really do? The “New Adventures of Tony Stark” as of late had mostly consisted of covert missions strictly in the “need to know.”
For instance, take Tony's very first assignment from Fury as an example. Exposing the Nazi sympathizer Victor Von Doom and stopping his plans for an automaton army was all well and good. Sugar coating the fact they broke international border treaties to attack a foreign dictator without the Presidents approval or knowledge, and omitting the details of handing over illegally obtained resources and/or data to a secret non-government affiliated group called “S.H.I.E.L.D.” was another matter entirely.
Oh and lets not forget one of the latest capers of infiltrating Soviet territory and to steal certain incriminating documents. No one could have anticipated facing off against Anton Vanko, the “Crimson Dynamo.” Good Lord, her hair was still singed from those blasted electrical attacks. Pepper still had doubts about their informant on that one. “Blackwidow” would be an ironic name indeed.
And of course...there was battle over Warsaw. She paused, hearing nothing but her own breath before her eyes closed shut. She could still recall the sent of ash and blood filtering through the air. It was horrific, watching as civilians were used as human shields. There was nothing she could do - nothing Tony could do but retreat nearly half dead aboard his zepplin, while Jarvis and Rhodey tried to patch him together. There were just too many enemies and not enough allies to put up a descent fight - and that was before the German naval and infantry arrived. Still, Tony was beating himself pretty badly over it.
Looking down, she tore out the page from her journal, crumpled it and tossed it in a near by waste bin. She would have to rework and pass it by Fury before sending it to the editors. That in itself was even more bothersome, but at least Fury knew how to utilize the benefit of keeping up appearances. Still, it wouldn't do if an American icon such as Tony Stark being reported anywhere near Poland...or Europe for that matter. Especially after FDR officially stated that they would stay out of the war.
Things were quickly becoming rather complicated, and Pepper was starting to have a headache. Why was she doing this again? Shaking her head clear her confidence surged. She wasn't one of Marvels' top writer for nothing. She had the skills to successfully keep the editors at the magazine happy, and keep Tony's public image in tact. At the very least, she was doing this to prove that a woman can be successful in a man's world. First things first. She needed to rescue the “hero” from himself.
With that last thought, she pushed herself up from her seat and made her way towards Tony's office past the main hallway. She didn't bother to knock on the massive doors that greeted her and strolled right in. The afternoon sun had long past set, painting the darkened office an eerie blue. Apparently Tony hadn't bothered with the lights, allowing illumination from the hallway to spill into the room throwing his figure into a sharp relief. A half empty bottle of brandy sat to his left as he nursed a tumbler against parted lips. A somber mood to match that of it's owner indeed.
“Tony?” Pepper called quietly. Her voice died, uncertainty welling in her stomach. What exactly was she supposed to say again? What hadn't she, Rhodey or Jarvis said already? “I need to discuss the next issue of your series...”
“Pepper...” he began voice low setting his glass down.
“No, we've already talked about this, Tony.” She marched forward, the heels of her shoes sharp and decisive. “What happened in Poland wasn't anyone fault except for those evil men. You did everything you could, but even you couldn't have been in multiple places all at once. And don't you even dare start with how you should have planned something or whatever cockamamie notion you have in your fool head.” She placed a hand on her hip daring a rebuttal.
Tony mulled over his thoughts in silence. “That was the point of finding the Molotov Pact wasn't it?” Blue eyes simmered in his storminess. “The point of which I risked all our lives and nearly got us killed by Vanko. It's my fault that we didn't get the information back to Fury in time. I should have guessed an invasion the very moment we discovered Doom's robot army.” Tony offered a self-depreciated smile looking every pit as pathetic as he felt.
“Exactly how self-important are you anyways? Last I checked, Mr. Stark, the world does not simply turn due to the actions of one man. Everyone plays their own part in the events of things, so forgive me for wondering when exactly did the fate of this war rest solely on your shoulders!”
Tony stared openly at her; his drink frozen in it's motion towards awaiting lips. Pepper blinked back her own surprise. The awkward silence was suddenly cut short with Tony's choked laughter.
“Why, Ms. Potts, you do have a certain way with words,” his breath was shaky; tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. “It's no wonder you are in the journalism field.”
“Sir...” the sudden ice in her voice was apparent. Well, at least it was progress, even though she was pretty certain he hadn't changed his opinion on the matter whatsoever. But, it was better then him holing himself up in either his lab or office for the better part of two weeks. “As I was saying, the next issue with Marvels...”
~*~*~*~
The next few days passed rather quickly in Tony's opinion. Still no word from Fury for the need of the “metal monstrosity” as the man had so graciously dubbed it. Sure, Shellhead was a bit on the bulky side, but the armor was still beautiful - and lethal. Lethal enough for Fury to want his own version for SHIELD. Tony had naturally refused for two reasons. One for insulting his armor...it was his baby after all, and two, he remembered what happened with “arsenal” in the Nazi's hands. Watching his father's work used for such... Tony closed his eyes. If his own tech fell into the wrong hands - no - just no.
He pushed all other thoughts away and focused now at the task at hand. Leaning back in his plush leather chair, he stared at the resumes stacked in front of his desk. Marvels had wanted to increase cover prices by 30.2%. A small frown crossed his face in thought. What made them think that the average person would be willing to accept the new price-line? It's true people were just coming out of the Depression, but the American people wanted more bang for their buck. If anything the raised prices would most likely turn readership away.
“And for what? To compensate for the 'perceived' increase of printing costs...” Tony mumbled his disbelief. “Those self-right bastards. We haven't even touched upon the thought or need for war rationing and they are already jumping the gun this early in the game...” his head tilted in thought. “Not that I can say I actually blame them per-say. Considering the progression of the current situation...I don't think it'll be too long before America does entangle themselves in the war.”
“I've already argued with the chief editor on our refusal to up costs. We manage to come to an agreement. If we can hook and introduce a new readership that should increase profits enough to secure a fixed contract with the printers.”
“Ah and thus we are here,” Tony waved his hand through the air giving a sly grin. “As they say...a picture is worth a thousand or so on. A new fetching cover art should draw in some new blood. I know for a fact that the only reason my old friend Tiberius Stone even sells any of his arid tales is because of the artist he's paired with.” He placed the pile of papers off to the side, quite content to ignore them. “I dare say the art embellishes him a little too much if you catch my drift. Of course, none of my stories suffer from the mundane. Though strictly off the record, Ms. Potts, J.R. Jr. always had a way of making my face much too blocky...”
“Tony...”
“Oh, but of course, credit where credit is due. Where would I be without my lovely chronicler?” Tony gave his best charming smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling with mirth. “I don't suppose you would be able sit through these interviews. You have much more experience in the field, and I've been meaning to upgrade the..”
“Not a chance, buster.” Pepper cut off with a cool air. She smiled and walked over to his desk to push the paperwork back into place. “I'm your chronicler not your assistant, and I still have to re-write the manuscript. So, here you are.”
Tony watch Pepper walk away, notebook in hand. The soft click of her heels echoing followed by the gentle shut of the door. No - he was not pouting. He was merely contemplating his next action. With a resigned sigh, he reached over pressed the button for the intercom.
“Mrs. Arbogast, please send in the first applicant.”
~*~*~*~
Leaning over his oak desk Tony stared at the gangly youth in front of him with a critical eye. He'd been through a couple of gentlemen already. Immonen was good - Eaglesham had a very dynamic approach - and Molina had a comedic air. He steepled his fingers watching the nervous blond shift from foot to foot and occasionally smooth out the none existent wrinkles from his shirt. THIS was the magazine's new rising cover artist? His eyes traced over the resume. Never mind that he looked like a beanpole; the fellow looked as if he was about to keel over at any minute.
“So,” Tony offered his devil may care smile, “why don't you tell me a little about yourself Mr...”
“Rogers, sir.” The young man stood a little straighter and looked Tony directly in the eye. “Steve Rogers. Editor Schaefer gave my recommendation to Ms. Potts. They said that you were looking to bring something new to Marvels.”
“And you believe you are the man for the job?” Tony quirked an eyebrow.
“Yes, sir.”
Tony resisted the urge to show his surprise. The firm tone and underlying confidence in the response was somewhat impressive. “Says here,” his fingertips traced along the black ink of the paper, “you just entered the New York Art Academy at the beginning of the year. Specializing in illustration I see. How did you come to Marvels in such a short time?
“Well, sir. I sold a few pieces here and there at a local gallery. I also take commission work and help at the local studios in order to pay for school. I suppose my work somehow found it's way to the right people. Said they liked my style and that I have a good concept of color and form.”
“Quite an accomplishment. Getting your name out there is one of the best things you can do. How old are you?”
“Twenty-two this past July, Mr. Stark.”
Tony had no idea what it was about this fellow that was drawing him in, but something tugged at his gut as if to say this was important. Steve looked so young though. He would have never guessed he was in his early twenties. Perhaps he was just getting old - strike that. In fact, perish the thought! He cleared his throat.
“Well, Mr. Rogers, I trust you've read some of my adventures. I've traveled to many places and have the grandest of adventures. I usually provide pictures and references when I can, but the majority of what you'll have to go by is Ms. Potts' account. There were times when J.R. Jr. was quite dedicated and actually tagged along...” Steve's eyes magnified comically and Tony quickly amended “but that was only once. After that he swore he'd never follow me anywhere again,” a small laugh rumbled at the memory.
“I can assure you, sir. I will perform to my utmost ability and then some.”
“And if I ask you to follow me into a jungle? Or take you aboard my zeppelin and fly through an air fight?” Not that Tony actually would. It's not like he wanted to kill his artist.
Steve considered, “I would be there, Mr. Stark.”
Again, Tony was surprised. He wasn't sure if Steve was foolish or dedicated. It was like there were two different people standing in front of him. No, that wasn't exactly right. There was this person that held a lot of spirit that was masked by a appearance of frailty. Tony like him.
“I think we'll work well together, Mr. Rogers. Call me Tony.”
“Only if you call me Steve. I look forward to working with you,” a goofy grin crossed his face.
___________________
And there you have the basic opening scene...guh it needs work.
[grins] Actually, I almost feel like we are just coming into the say 4th or 5th chapter of a story. I seriously wouldn't mind starting right where Ironman Noir, which is something I implied with Pepper's starting chronicle. I also realize that people aren't going to be familiar enough with the events of WWII to really grasp what I was alluding to in the beginning with infiltration of Russia and the attack on Poland. [scratches head] Plus I need to work on laying description down.
If you are curious as to what the story was, the initial prompt was to have Marvel's leading cover artist kidnapped. Tony goes to rescue his employee and Steve could either help him or be the employee. And it's supposed to be a very manly adventure with no crying and the like. But now since I don't have to fit the prompt to the letter, I can stretch the parameters a bit. If you are wondering, I chose pre-serum Steve for a very specific reason...mainly since this entire thing could actually be a prelude to what I actually want.
Tony: and that would be?
Inoshi: You trying to help Steve cross-dress...
Tony: are you serious?
Inoshi: [nod] Yeah, remember when Steve was all dressing like a Granny? Well, I want you to say, "When you mentioned corset, I thought this would be a lot more risqué" and then be all DDDDD8
Tony: ....
Inoshi: That and I want you to blow up with a plane
Tony: O_o WHAT?!
Inoshi: Imagine the drama!
Tony: You sadist...[glares]
Inoshi: Oh come on...Bucky lived...you'll probably be okay...
Tony: HOW?
Inoshi: errrr...Magic?