I was tagged on two accounts, by raventheprinceofmischief and clairexnovak
So this is my desktop — I run dual monitors, and my background rotates through a lot of different NASA starscapes.
SHOW ME YOUR DESKTOP (no changing it that’s cheating)
lycanthropelahey stilesthesarcasticstilinski starkroads @shoutingfinetotheskies / wordlesswarlock thegoldenprince-ofcamelot
starkroads replied to your post “starkroads replied to your post “I found Starki last night! She’s so…”
(Mostly I told her to keep an eye open for a redhead with seriously long hair xD)
starkindustriesonline replied to your post “I found Starki last night! She’s so cute. Pictures when I get home.”
(( omg where?! ))
*squashes Starki-mun* You think you’re funny. I’m going to come up with some kind of torture just for you now.
I /planned/ to be highly visible last night in my Black Widow costume and yet since the Sheraton is shitty about parties I was not. I’m not even sure there’s a picture I can get ahold of.
Tonight is Emerald Rose, Mechanical Masquerade, and Brobdingnagian Bards. But I’m just going to be simple con clothes, corset and circle skirt, rather than anything really costume-y.
starkroads replied to your post “I found Starki last night! She’s so cute. Pictures when I get home.”
(Curious as to whether or not Nixxie spotted you at some point. I shall have to ask her when she’s on.)
I’m not sure how she would have known it was me. I was cosplaying Summer last night. She might see my Black Widow tonight though. Going out to the Heroes and Villains Ball shortly.
*sniggers* Now I’m trying to imagine Demony heartbroken, and it doesn’t work.
“You can’t possibly want him to stay!” she exclaimed. “It’s your life, your very body he’s taken! Damn near your soul!” She stepped forward, hands outstretched. “I want you to be able to be the man you were before he came along.”“No, my soul is still mine,” Tony replied, deliberately missing the point. He took two steps back, once again pointing the knife at her, his arm steadier now than when he had first pulled the blade out. “See, I don’t really like that man. Maybe you do, but that’s why you have your own. I belong to someone else, Sunshine.”
“Don’t call me that!” She didn’t mean to say that out loud, but something about this space seemed to share her thoughts even as she was thinking them. “You don’t like who you were, so you’re going to give yourself over to someone worse? That’s stupid. He — that — the demon can’t save you. Only you can save yourself. And you’ve given up trying.”
If you’re going to bring him up, my gadgeteer — he never gives up trying to be better. No matter what, he doesn’t — and you just — you’d rather just lie down and let this thing destroy.”
Tony shrugged dispassionately, as if he had gotten bored with this discussion of morals and ethics. “Maybe you’ve got a point,” he offered, though it wasn’t much of a concession. “But I’m still not your gadgeteer, and while my demon won’t save me, he’s never claimed he would.”
The knife lowered, though he didn’t close it yet. “Besides, he makes me feel better, and I’m willing to settle for that.” He smiled, an unexpectedly soft expression for a moment. “What can I say?” The expression shifted, just slightly, as if he thought his next words might do something horrible and he couldn’t wait to see what. “I love him.”
Summer staggered back a step, unconsciously. “You can’t,” she blurted, despite every sense confirming his words. “You can’t. There’s nothing /to/ love. You’re lost, you’re blinded, it’s okay. It’s Stockholm syndrome, that’s all.” Once again, words were spilling out of her mouth that she would have managed not to say in the real world, but this weird space seemed to strip out any filters.
“What has he done to you?”
“You can’t possibly want him to stay!” she exclaimed. “It’s your life, your very body he’s taken! Damn near your soul!” She stepped forward, hands outstretched. “I want you to be able to be the man you were before he came along.”“No, my soul is still mine,” Tony replied, deliberately missing the point. He took two steps back, once again pointing the knife at her, his arm steadier now than when he had first pulled the blade out. “See, I don’t really like that man. Maybe you do, but that’s why you have your own. I belong to someone else, Sunshine.”
“Don’t call me that!” She didn’t mean to say that out loud, but something about this space seemed to share her thoughts even as she was thinking them. “You don’t like who you were, so you’re going to give yourself over to someone worse? That’s stupid. He — that — the demon can’t save you. Only you can save yourself. And you’ve given up trying.”
If you’re going to bring him up, my gadgeteer — he never gives up trying to be better. No matter what, he doesn’t — and you just — you’d rather just lie down and let this thing destroy.”
It wasn’t the way his hand looked that brought her to flinch back; it was the sheer cruel joy he so clearly took in showing her. It literally shaded the air about him. Swallowing hard, she said, “Well, now that he’s gone, you could get it repaired, or I suppose build yourself a new one. It should be easier than the arc, yes?” She didn’t like the way he held on to the knife, either. “Please, I’m no threat to you.”Tony shrugged easily, as if this was normal, casual. “Not much point to it,” he replied. “Like I said, it doesn’t bother him, what with whatever voodoo he uses to keep it functional, and I doubt he’ll be gone long enough for it to really get to me too much.” His tone was so conversational, as if he was just discussing plans for dinner. Like it was all a given, that his head wouldn’t be his own place for long, and he was entirely alright with that. He tossed the knife up and caught it. “What do you want, Summer? To feel like you tried, where no one asked you to? Congrats. Run along.”
“You can’t possibly want him to stay!” she exclaimed. “It’s your life, your very body he’s taken! Damn near your soul!” She stepped forward, hands outstretched. “I want you to be able to be the man you were before he came along.”
“I don’t know how we got /in/ here; I can’t get us out!” She frowned, folded her arms. “No, look, forget that for the moment. What is wrong with your hand, and what in the world is wrong with your mind?” Her eyes flared, and she slapped one hand over her mouth. Even then, her own voice said, “That’s not how I meant to say that.”His eyes narrowed sharply, and he held his hand all the closer to his chest. But then he sort of smiled, and somehow it was even less Tony than any of Anthony’s manic, face-splitting grins. “If you’re so curious, fine,” he ground out, and used his teeth to peel the glove off of his left hand, rather than put the knife away.
If anyone ever asked Anthony why he wore the glove, he deftly lied and said he hurt himself in the workshop and used the glove to preserve his pristine image. He had, however, taken pains (literally) to make it convincing in case anyone wanted proof. Patches of the skin had that faintly shiny look of scar tissue, with a deep, rope-like scar along the palm and between the index finger and thumb, so thick it looked like it had nearly severed the thumb. The pinky finger was a strange, pale, shriveled thing, fixed in a claw. It looked like his hand had gotten caught in a piece of the workshop’s more violent machinery.
“He’s better at using it as an actual hand than I am,” he informed her mildly, as he flexed the fingers as far apart as he could, which wasn’t much. “But the nerves are all pretty much fried, so it doesn’t bother me all that much.”
It wasn’t the way his hand looked that brought her to flinch back; it was the sheer cruel joy he so clearly took in showing her. It literally shaded the air about him. Swallowing hard, she said, “Well, now that he’s gone, you could get it repaired, or I suppose build yourself a new one. It should be easier than the arc, yes?” She didn’t like the way he held on to the knife, either. “Please, I’m no threat to you.”
“Stop acting the fool and I’ll stop treating you as one.” One hand seized his elbow, and then it was as if she was falling, or the world went away; there was an unpleasant roiling in her gut.Summer blinked, shaking her head hard. “What the fuck. Just happened.” She could see Tony, hand still clutched close to his chest, and the reactor seeming to flicker in and out of view. And nothing else. All around stretched greyness, filled with dim and sourceless light. She turned, slowly.
Tony went rigid at her touch, and then in surprise as he looked around quickly. His grip on the knife tightened further, and he clicked it open slightly, enough that he would be able to flip it the rest of the way open with a flick of his wrist.
“What did you do?” he demanded, forgoing looking around this new scenery (or lack thereof) in favor of keeping his eyes on her.
“I— I think we’re in your mind,” she whispered. Even that small sound carried in the space. “Some kind of interaction between my gift and your time hosting the demon … “
“Then get us back out of here,” he snapped, clicking the knife open and closed repeatedly, in a nervous gesture. True, it wasn’t nearly as bright here—why would the inside of his mind ever be bright?—but why would he want her in here?
“I don’t know how we got /in/ here; I can’t get us out!” She frowned, folded her arms. “No, look, forget that for the moment. What is wrong with your hand, and what in the world is wrong with your mind?” Her eyes flared, and she slapped one hand over her mouth. Even then, her own voice said, “That’s not how I meant to say that.”
“Stop acting the fool and I’ll stop treating you as one.” One hand seized his elbow, and then it was as if she was falling, or the world went away; there was an unpleasant roiling in her gut.Summer blinked, shaking her head hard. “What the fuck. Just happened.” She could see Tony, hand still clutched close to his chest, and the reactor seeming to flicker in and out of view. And nothing else. All around stretched greyness, filled with dim and sourceless light. She turned, slowly.
Tony went rigid at her touch, and then in surprise as he looked around quickly. His grip on the knife tightened further, and he clicked it open slightly, enough that he would be able to flip it the rest of the way open with a flick of his wrist.
“What did you do?” he demanded, forgoing looking around this new scenery (or lack thereof) in favor of keeping his eyes on her.
“I— I think we’re in your mind,” she whispered. Even that small sound carried in the space. “Some kind of interaction between my gift and your time hosting the demon … “