subject lines are for people who aren't WORKING, PEPPER [open]

[needsmoreiron]

Early this morning Tony Stark was rudely awakened by an explosion. This explosion was small, red-haired, and composed of "Tony, you have nothing in your fridge, you haven't unpacked anything, and you haven't been outside since you got here

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[redderthan]

And in through the door comes a St. Jude's student! Or so the label on her messenger bag says. She has ridiculous curly hair, a short red dress with a big black jacket over it (because it's spring, and morning, and therefore chilly), and ballet slippers on. She also appears to see nothing bizarre about this combination whatsoever, judging by how totally unselfconscious she is. The St. Jude's packet garners her attention once she has tea in her hands--not coffee, not today--and she leans over to peer at it as she passes by Tony's table.

"Terrible school," she informs him, nonchalantly, with a gesture at the packet, "Uniforms."

...Wanda. Really? Is that how you're going to start? Really?

[needsmoreiron]

For the sake of visual cues, imagine this like one of those Discovery Channel simulators that go into the brain and show what's going on, provided the brain was programmed with MS-DOS circa 1992. The camera swoops dramatically into a field of black, where a grid shows us the processes that Tony's thoughts must activate in order to get from Sherrington's law of reciprocal innervation to Stark's law of reciprocal sexytiems, not that there necessarily ...are any. ANYWAY, this proceeds as follows

[redderthan]

Wanda is impressed at his reaction time! Since she basically appeared with a random nonsequitur. Possibly she's learning from Noriko, except minus all the ridiculously aggressive antagonism. Isn't that a terrifying notion. Anyway! She is frankly somewhat startled at the reaction, but recognizes it's an easy leap to make, so she responds as she often does--with a quiet, surprised laugh. It doesn't appear to be a negative reaction, since she's leaning her hip against the edge of the table.

"Well, thanks, but if you're going to St. Jude's, you'll be seeing the uniform every day, and it just won't have any mystique." Banter delivered in Wanda's accent: that much more ridiculous, FYI. She peers closer to look at his other notes, the ones that aren't related to her school. "Oh, hey. Vorticity control? Is it hydrodynamic, or--?"

She can't quite see from this angle. Stop leaning, Maximoff, that's not actually your business.

[needsmoreiron]

Tony doesn't mind if she leans! He minds even less if her dress's neckline is as interesting as the hemline, presumably covered by the coat as it is. A hot girl not only leaning, but inquiring about vorticity control! Clearly he will have to step up his game like eight thousand notches.

"Right, but I'm not starting until fall, which leaves three months to build up all kinds of unrealistic expectations. You wouldn't want to be responsible for that when you could be part of a more salient learning experience, would you?"

Yeah, I don't know either. On the other hand, he does have a very pretty smile? And all the scooting over seems to indicate she should sit down, although he's not scooting enough to prevent really close quarters. She could just...sit across from him, but why would anyone ever want to do that? "Speaking of learning experiences..." Gesturing at notes: GET.

[q_is_q]

The Vic that enters the coffee shop is both disgruntled and manic. He had very carefully used a drill to attach footholds to the side of his house beneath his window, strategically hidden by the climbing roses. At exactly 3:47 AM, he had very carefully opened his window and descended, pleased that he had estimated the length of separation so well. At exactly 3:48 AM, the very last foothold gave out under his weight, and he sprawled unceremoniously on the grass, looking up at — his stepfather Will. Who'd taught him basically everything he knew about urban ninja-ing, so this made sense, BUT, it meant he didn't get to sneak off to Booster's house to play with Skeets and investigate stuff.

Grr. Argh. Grr. Ar— who's that.

Vic purchases coffee, and, as an afterthought, a stupidly large muffin. He then proceeds to seat himself in Tony's booth. Across from him, of course, Vic's not quite that personal space invasive.

"Hi. Quick question?"

[needsmoreiron]

Tony's brain goes through roughly the same pattern as above, except that this time it is investigating if it's worth trying to build a Shadow Hand with less muscle groupings, specifically how to distribute the energy involved so that fewer parts are involved with essentially the same replacement time.

...yay. Also in this case there is no >:3 involved, what with Vic not being Tony's type and all, but never mind, everyone probably already knew that. Although this is certainly not a commentary on how well Vic may or may not fill out the school uniform!

In any event he looks up, blinking elaborately. "You're not a Jehovah's Witness, are you?" A QUESTION FOR A QUESTION OH DID YOU SEE THAT yes sorry moving on. "If so you can choose one of the following. A," he demonstrates! With hand motions! "I gave at the office. B, my eternal soul is actually considered valuable stock, in which case Jesus will have to become a shareholder just like everyone else."

That's...great, Tony.

[q_is_q]

Giving every appearance of attentiveness to Tony's description of Jehovah's Witness options, Vic reaches for his muffin, but somehow ends up abruptly trying to yoink the pad of paper.

"Shadow Hand, huh. Do you do alternative fuel? There's a competition going on between the science club and the Environmental ProAction Committee. Of course, looks like that'd be child's play for you, but actually, was thinking of sabotaging everything if we got enough press. To make a statement."

Here, Tony. Have words. Words words words. How's that? Moar?

[needsmoreiron]

Tony will take your words and eat them with Nutella. (This is a total lie, but Nutella is gotdamn delicious, okay.) There is an audible gear shift from Tony Friendly PR Face to Tony ~*SCIENCE*~ Face, and what a sight that is to behold.

"I could, with the right incentive." ...everything Tony says sounds like it could conceivably be flirting, presumably Vic can tell the difference. Or will totally fail to care, either works. "Presuming the sabotaging doesn't extend to anything of mine. There are better ways to get press."

Such as casually dropping 'Stark Industries' into some reporter's hat.

[ugliest_shirts]

Ben is here because he Has A Paper again, and is determined to get it finished today so he can sleep tomorrow. He looks vaguely disgruntled by this, though, and is all too happy to be distracted by the sight of a St. Jude's logo on something as he takes his cup past Tony's table.

Excuse him while he peers at it, and at Tony's notes that he mostly can't actually understand, with shameless curiosity. And totally forgets to actually say hello.

[needsmoreiron]

Minneapolis is certainly do a lot to destroy Tony's general impression that people in urban areas keep largely to themselves except when they are rudely accosted by say, a small child jostling them on the sidewalk, in which case the standard reaction is to spit on them and continue struggling on, and/or drawing weaponry of some kind

[ugliest_shirts]

Or maybe it's just Ben. Who was like this even when he did live in New York, actually, because people in New York City are just as fascinating to snoop on and speculate about as people in Minneapolis. And also, if the name on that envelope is to be believed, just as likely to be named Anthony Stark. (More likely, mathematically speaking, since the population of New York City is larger than the population of Minneapolis-- anyway.)

"Oh, uh, sorry." Ben rocks back on his heels and actually, mostly, means the apology. "I was just wondering if you were the same Tony I talked to who's starting next year, and, yeah. You seemed busy." :D?

[needsmoreiron]

Well, Tony is the kind of moron who believes it when people tell him they're sorry, and will pretty much always forgive instantly, even if this is not ...really a big deal. In fact, he often forgives people he really shouldn't, uh, ever, because let's face it, there just aren't many people in his life period. The other side of the coin of course is that he's also a person who freely apologizes and means it, but that doesn't mean he won't immediately do go right out and do whatever necessitated the apology again.

"Looks like I'm taking a break now." He grins, but holds up one finger before turning feverishly back to his pile of notes. "Do me a favor and stay shut up, just for a minute." Scribbling, scribbling aaaand done.

"Okay!" The grin is back, in all its dazzling FUCK THAT WORD asdfghj brilliance, and those adjectives were perfectly good once DAMN it anyway. "Now where were we? As I recall you were well on your way to a restraining order, so just pick up from there."

[sugarcomanigh]

Walking into any public space always involves a flurry of observations from Alex: this many people positioned there, there, there; the reflection of the funny pages in the glasses of the man in the corner pretending to read the business section; the barrista with new earrings that she probably didn't buy for herself; a guy in a booth taking up an impressive amount of table space... Is that a robot armCongratulations, Tony, on instantly becoming the most interesting person in the room. Not that that's unusual, one imagines, or noticeable at this juncture, since all Alex does is continue along his merry way into the coffee shop as if he hadn't noticed a thing. Just going about his business, ordering his tea-infused iced sugar, paying for it with cash he surely acquired through legitimate means, wandering back toward a potential seat on the opposite side of Tony

[needsmoreiron]

Not only is it a robot arm, it is a robot arm UNDERWATER although really there's no way Alex should be able to tell that, it isn't like Tony sketched in little waves. But perhaps this is a prelude to the impending disaster, what with the SEA OF TEA suddenly spreading wildly across the table aaaa oh okay no it's just the big envelope from the school, no big deal. How ....convenient.

"No no really, I think this is a good development. I find things much easier to read when they're caffeinated. It's like incentive, you know?" Carrying on a conversation while leaping out of the booth, notes in hand? Apparently easier than it looks! He sets them facedown safely out of range and will, if Alex lets him, take over napkin detail. "Let's actually get you six or seven ...thousand miles away from anything made of paper, if that works for you."

Dear Tony: stop trusting people.

[sugarcomanigh]

No, no Tony can't take over napkin detail. Tony can have a few napkins to help - any more and Alex will swat at his hands - while Alex busily sops up the spill, because god forbid he not be in charge of anything ever. "It doesn't, actually, I'm really not looking to vacation in Antarctica - or anywhere else that far from civilization, thank you very much," he rambles back.

"-But I'm really sorry." Lies, delicious lies. "Was this from St. Jude's before I made it more interesting and or soggy? Maybe I could get you a new one? I didn't get any of your other papers, did I?" he asks while reaching out a dry napkin-bearing hand to brush over said papers, if only for a moment's closer look. Ooo, equations.

[needsmoreiron]

A FURIOUS STRUGGLE FOR NAPKIN CONTROL no not really, if Alex wants to mop things up on his own, Tony ...really really never cleans anything unless he absolutely has to. "I don't know, you might not be able to knock over anything rhttp://community.livejournal.com/stjudehigh/18205.html?replyto=755229... )

[andsocanyou]

Tony is likely, by now, no stranger to nosey teenagers poking into his business, but Allison more or less makes that her job and he's sitting there and she's snagging a tea so that makes him about as a good a target as any. The St. Jude's paperwork helps a lot.

"Y helo thar." Yes, she actually talks that way. No, it is not normal. Yes you can be terrified of what the internet age has wrought. She waggles her fingers at him in something that is probably a wave, leaning over the opposite side of the booth. She's got a cup of tea in her hand and headphones around her neck which seems to be blaring...1920's jazz? Uh. Apparently so. With the hand holding the tea she gestures to what she assumes is his work. "Got anything interesting in that nest of papers?"

[needsmoreiron]

Like a child sentenced to sit in the corner, thus Tony has been sentenced to sit in this coffee shop until such time as Pepper sees fit for him to leave; at this point he's pretty much resigned himself not to doing any more work and is instead picking idly through the packet of stuff St. Jude's sent. Which is now vaguely tea-colored, courtesy of Alex.

So yes, at this point people asking what he's doing is par for the course, and that's sort of unusual! If he really wanted to work without interruption, he would just be holed up in his apartment, which actually he was for about three days straight! Hence his current exile. BUT ANYWAY, he looks up and pulls that face where people go '....really?' over a pair of glasses, except he he is NOT WEARING ANY. Tony Stark needs no glasses. B| "I like to think so! It depends on what you find interesting, I mean, can any of us really know what interests another person? What does it for me might be incredibly boring for you, and vice versa. So I guess the short answer is 'maybe

[andsocanyou]

"Hmm, trufax, trufax, sir." She nods. "A plus plus on the clever retort, by the by." Allison gives him a thoughtful look, still eying those papers because it is quite a bit of paper and the tea stains are intriguing. She's going to abandon that topic though for the failing bit of conversation that it is and latch right onto his next comment.

"You're..." She pauses a moment, canting her head slightly so her ear is pressed rather awkwardly to one oversized headphone. "Half right. Coltrane and Davis, actually." He gets some raised eyebrows because seriously, her musical taste is, and she hates to say it and sound pretentious but it's like that anyway, eclectic, he seems to know some things. How charming! "What. Do you know about jazz, hm? Short answer, one hundred words or less." She checks an imaginary watch. "You have 5 minutes."

[needsmoreiron]

"I don't need five minutes." Theoretically that might sound snotty coming from someone else, and who's to say it doesn't sound snotty coming from Tony, honestly--BUT if the chin lift and bright eyes are any indication, he is supremely confident re: his ability to wax intellectual (or not) on ...all of jazz ever.

"Coltrane is good, Davis sure, Dizzy, Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk--who wins points for the name, can you imagine having to face grade school every day knowing you were going to have to write Thelonious on all your work--all good standards for really dirty, get down, let's go to Paris and use a lot of heroin kind of moods. I don't know how often you have those, but there you go. Ellington, Hancock, Count Basie...realistically speaking this is more about what I like and less about what I know, but we can't all be winners, now can we?"

Tony...takes a breath. Good, just keep doing that. "One hundred words exactly, but just using surnames is sort of cheating." He has the nerve to look abashed about this.