[It's like the cold hand of death just reached out and caressed him. As if every drop of blood in his body just froze solid, that burning kind of cold that stops your thoughts and sends shivers down your spine. The kind that has his eyes wide and focused in on the one thing in the room that suddenly even matters.
That. Grin.
Lips spread almost unnaturally wide, teeth pearly white and far too large, clenched together in that terrifying, menacing way. It's like looking into the depths of Hell itself. And for a moment, Tony knows what those poor suckers in the fifty Jaws movies felt, staring straight into the jaws of that shark he spent weeks crying over and sending angry letters about. After all, he could build a more convincing one in his sleep.
And maybe that's why, after he blinks and listens to the French, the English, tries to pick out the meanings of the words, that the fear is really hitting him. That he's suddenly swearing in a mix of languages - English, French, Spanish, Italian, Dhari, because screw you he's Tony Stark - and scrambling backwards, sliding and pushing himself off the table, rolling as he hits the other edge, ducking under and peeking up over the side, just a pair of narrowed eyes, wild hair, and fingers clutching the edge.]
You're not getting me this time, Jaws. I'm not in the fucking water. [Is all he's hissing out, as threatening and dangerous as he can make it - spoilers: it's really not that threatening - before he starts singing a quiet but intense rendition of the Jaws Theme.
A nice little chorus of DA NA DA NA DA NA DANADANADANADANA DANANAAAAAAAAAAA.]
lmfao you say that as if I ACTUALLY SPEAK FRENCH 8'D
That. Grin.
Lips spread almost unnaturally wide, teeth pearly white and far too large, clenched together in that terrifying, menacing way. It's like looking into the depths of Hell itself. And for a moment, Tony knows what those poor suckers in the fifty Jaws movies felt, staring straight into the jaws of that shark he spent weeks crying over and sending angry letters about. After all, he could build a more convincing one in his sleep.
And maybe that's why, after he blinks and listens to the French, the English, tries to pick out the meanings of the words, that the fear is really hitting him. That he's suddenly swearing in a mix of languages - English, French, Spanish, Italian, Dhari, because screw you he's Tony Stark - and scrambling backwards, sliding and pushing himself off the table, rolling as he hits the other edge, ducking under and peeking up over the side, just a pair of narrowed eyes, wild hair, and fingers clutching the edge.]
You're not getting me this time, Jaws. I'm not in the fucking water. [Is all he's hissing out, as threatening and dangerous as he can make it - spoilers: it's really not that threatening - before he starts singing a quiet but intense rendition of the Jaws Theme.
A nice little chorus of DA NA DA NA DA NA DANADANADANADANA DANANAAAAAAAAAAA.]