13th Command; text/spam

[aggravating]

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.]

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[love_slave]

[She settles down be the bars.]

I don't care.

[She means that, but not in the way of scolding him.] I know it doesn't always help- some things people tell me are wrong, I think are right. But I don't care what you've done right now, because you've helped me when I needed it.

I know I can't let you out, but I want to be here for you.

[aggravating]

[He... doesn't know how to even start handling what Zev's saying to him. Instead just staring at her, brow furrowed but eyes wide, startled and so, so confused.]

Wasn't going to let some asshole get away with stuff like that.

[He's trying to shrug it off, to dismiss it, to let the emotions roll off of him. But then she has to go and say that. Wanting to be there for him.

It's just not something he's used to hearing.

He works alone, insists upon it so much that Rhodey and Pepper only ever tell him he doesn't have to when things get really bad. But here's this girl he still doesn't know all that well, but feels compelled to help protect, to play hero with when someone tried to hurt her.]

... Yeah, fine. Okay. It's boring, though. Torture yourself at will.

[love_slave]

I lived in a box for twenty years. [She says firmly, before he can argue.] No matter what, I'm not leaving you in one alone.

[It's the only explanation she has. She cares about him, he helped her. Maybe in another life, she could have even loved him like she still loves Kai. But here he's her friend. And she would never leave a friend.]

[aggravating]

[His head actually snaps up at that, brow furrowed and expression caught between pure disbelief and a touch of outrage before he catches himself, schools himself.

There's a reason why he locks himself away in his lab when he gets too drunk, when that gate between his control and his emotions starts swinging in the breeze.]

... Right. [It's really all he can say, right now. Staring at Zev, the determination in her voice, on her face. He isn't used to seeing that directed at him. Not in situations like this anyway.] ... Right, okay... uh.

... A box, seriously? [Because out of everything going through his mind, that's the only thing he can even hope of focusing in on right now.]

[love_slave]

[She leans back against the bars and wraps her arms around her legs.]

I was raised in the Wife Bank on B3k. My parents sold me because I was an unattractive child, and that was a problem for them. They keep their wives isolated in the Wife Bank, so the first real person they make a connection to is their husband.

He insulted me when I met him, so I punched him in the face. I was convicted for that. Needless to say, until recently I have not gotten out very much.

[aggravating]

[This he can deal with. Not as well as, say, pointless conversations about AC/DC, cars, his suit. But he can deal with this (anger at what he's hearing, a distinct flavor of seriously?) better than he can deal with the fact that Zev doesn't want to abandon him down here.]

Okay, first of all? Their definition of beauty is crap. I'm kind of a rich, entitled, playboy asshole so believe me, I can and will make judgments based on looks. You're cresting the top one percent of the women I've seen. And trust me, I've seen the entire Playboy calendar.

[He does manage a grin at the mention of punching the guy, though.] Good. We ever run into him, let me know. Guy sounds like he could use someone making his life hell.

[Zev, welcome to Tony's list of people to actively care about. The list is so short he can actually count the members on one hand.]

[love_slave]

[She would give him a kiss right through the bars if she could, but she knows better. If only he knew what she used to look like- still, she appreciates it, and she smiles sweetly at the compliment in silent thanks.] Don't worry. I think I'll punch him again on my own. I don't regret it for a moment.