Tony Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aggravating) wrote2012-09-11 03:56 pm
aggravating) wrote2012-09-11 03:56 pm
13th Command; text/spam
So. Since this place is apparently just like back home as far as tabloids and gossip columns and the latest tumblr blog... for those of you who didn't happen to hear in one of the fifty completely open and unfiltered conversations about this particular subject:
I've been sent to Zero to sober up. Absolutely tragic loss to the extremely limited party life here on the barge. But. Everyone's invited to my room when I get out for a bit of fun.
[SPAM FOR... LEVEL ZERO VISITS?]
[Tony. Is. Miserable.
Regardless of how he's coming across on the network, to the few people who've pinged him, the few conversations he's had to have, he's not doing well. He's pale and sweating, and the puking's only stopped by now because he has nothing left in him. He's shaking from the withdrawal, just kind of huddled in a corner, a few water bottles scattered around him and his communicator within grabbing distance.
He's pissed for no reason, paranoid and anxious, depressed, and a little out of breath. Because despite the glowing blue circle in his chest making sure his heart keeps beating at a relatively steady rate? It's still pounding and racing, sending small spasms through the damaged muscles around the metal casing shoved in his sternum.
He looks like crap, he feels like crap, and what's even worse? He knows he's going to have visitors. Because for some reason, despite his absolute best efforts to keep it from happening? People on this hell barge actually seem to worry. It's weird.]
I've been sent to Zero to sober up. Absolutely tragic loss to the extremely limited party life here on the barge. But. Everyone's invited to my room when I get out for a bit of fun.
[SPAM FOR... LEVEL ZERO VISITS?]
[Tony. Is. Miserable.
Regardless of how he's coming across on the network, to the few people who've pinged him, the few conversations he's had to have, he's not doing well. He's pale and sweating, and the puking's only stopped by now because he has nothing left in him. He's shaking from the withdrawal, just kind of huddled in a corner, a few water bottles scattered around him and his communicator within grabbing distance.
He's pissed for no reason, paranoid and anxious, depressed, and a little out of breath. Because despite the glowing blue circle in his chest making sure his heart keeps beating at a relatively steady rate? It's still pounding and racing, sending small spasms through the damaged muscles around the metal casing shoved in his sternum.
He looks like crap, he feels like crap, and what's even worse? He knows he's going to have visitors. Because for some reason, despite his absolute best efforts to keep it from happening? People on this hell barge actually seem to worry. It's weird.]
[spam]
At any rate, he has his reasons for preferring not to have this conversation face to face.]
LA. [It's short, curt; confirmation and little else.] You've been doing a decent job of keeping me from missing it, but I doubt you settle for just one of the above.
[spam]
Have a house in Malibu. Hate LA, too... [He waves a hand, absently. As if that explains it.] Dirty. Done. Cliche. They expect big names in LA.
[And Tony hates being expected to do or be anything. Hates it more than he'll probably ever be able to explain.]
Vacation homes in seven countries, fifteen states, company offices on both sides of the US and a handful of yachts. [His lips twitch] Yeah, I don't settle.