whistling the old tune back in black

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Mon, 18 Jun 2012 04:38:37 +0800

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Mon, 18 Jun 2012 03:07:35 +0800

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Mon, 18 Jun 2012 01:33:03 +0800

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Sun, 17 Jun 2012 06:20:53 +0800

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Sun, 17 Jun 2012 04:39:26 +0800

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Sun, 17 Jun 2012 03:08:40 +0800

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Sun, 17 Jun 2012 01:34:54 +0800

justablacksmith started following you

Sat, 16 Jun 2012 19:43:06 +0800

justasimpledoctor:

That has yet to be seen, Mr. Stane. [Finishing with rolling his sleeves, he grabbed a set of fresh bandages and a small bowl of water to clean the wound with as he crossed to the other man. Setting it down on bed next to him, he went about carefully, and meticulously removing the bandages wrapping his chest. It’d been a few weeks since the accident, and he’d come a long way, admittedly, but…it’d been a close call between life and death, and he felt like the other man seemed to forget that sometimes.

With the bandages removed, he started cleaning away the dried blood to get a better look at the healing wound. And it was healing, despite all odds, which really wasn’t helping the rumors whispered around the small village that he garnered help from ‘another source’.]

[When Bruce begins moving the bandages, Anthony has to bite his lip to keep from making any noises betraying the slight stinging feel of the cloth brushing against his wound. His breaths leave him a little shakily when his teeth remove themselves from the skin of his mouth, but when the bandages are completely gone, he takes a tiny inhalation; trying not to move as his doctor begins working.]

… So… things workin’ out?

[Something like a laugh escapes him, but it’s a careful one; his breaths already stuttering between the usual slur of words.] Or are y’ gonna ban me fr’m ever goin’ to th’ market again? [His gaze drops slightly to the hands meticulously cleaning the crusted blood on his skin, and it’s difficult not to feel some sort of hero-worship for the guy who’s saved his life—even though part of him believes that he probably should have died that day.]

Don’t think I’d be able t’ handle tha’ very well.

exposed-like-a-nerve started following you

Sat, 16 Jun 2012 19:35:22 +0800

exposed-like-a-nerve:

By George, I think he’s got it! A round of applause! |She claps for him, smiling and laughing|

Now if only that generation thing would work in my favor. I’m sure if I told them any of that, they would not believe me. “Mother, you’re reading too many books again!” Or at least that’s what I assume they would say. |her cheeks tinge again and she playfully hits him on the shoulder|Oh hush, you.

Right, Banner’s are probably more fun and have better tea parties anyway. |She hesitates, but links arms with him| Of course, but mind you, I have to back before the clock strikes twelve.

[Anthony fans his hand over his face, his other hand waving in front of him as he shakes his head.] Good Lord, t’was nothing worth applause over— [He stops, however, a grin on his face as he waggles his brows slightly.] —although, I am enjoying yer ‘ttention.

[At the hit to his shoulder, Anthony groans dramatically, tilting his head back in mock-pain.] Y’ wound me, fair lady! Though ‘m sure your runts’d understand someday—th’ great works of Anthony Stane mayhaps strike ‘em dumb at first. They’ll believe y’. Eventually. [He begins to lead Brie along, laughing.] Aye, twelve midnight. ‘ll have y’ back ‘fore th’ crack of it, promise. Even if we’re havin’ a splendid tea party at th’ time.

so tonight i’m gonna cut it out and then restart

Sat, 16 Jun 2012 06:17:04 +0800

so tonight i’m gonna cut it out and then restart

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Sat, 16 Jun 2012 04:38:25 +0800

I’m just not the hero type. Clearly. With this laundry list of...

Sat, 16 Jun 2012 03:06:28 +0800

I’m just not the hero type. Clearly. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I’ve made, largely public.

The truth is… I am Iron Man.

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Sat, 16 Jun 2012 01:28:28 +0800

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Fri, 15 Jun 2012 08:14:01 +0800

exposed-like-a-nerve started following you

Fri, 15 Jun 2012 08:12:00 +0800

exposed-like-a-nerve:

I’m not giving up on you, you’re almost there. tech - no - lo - gy.

My perfect company? I’m anything but that, really. You give me too much credit. |She fiddles with her fingers for a moment and chewed on her lip.| You don’t have to feel bad, if you won’t let me pay for it then I don’t want it. |Who was she kidding? it would have been kick ass to have a suit of armor.| A gift, though? That’s another story.

Please, Sir Anthony. You are as chivalrous as they come, and that makes you a knight. Maybe not to your King, but to me.

Oh, Dr. Banner. Per’aps I could try, if only for you. [Anthony exhales, softly.] Tech-no-lo— [He stops for a dramatic intake of breath, before grinning.] —gee.

A gift, then! Suit’s a gift fer y’, and th’ generations o’ Banners to come. [He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest with the slightest curve of his mouth.] An’ when they ask where y’ got it, y’ can tell ‘em ya charmed a blacksmith o’ old. [He pauses, then, perhaps almost cheekily, adds—] With yer perfect comp’ny, o’course.

[The idea of being a knight has him resisting the urge to laugh, and he bites his lip before nodding his head.] Aligh’, then. Knight o’ Banner is far more importan’ than bein’ a knight o’ the highnesses, anyway. [Bending his arm at the elbow, Anthony looks towards the woman with another one of those grins.] Tha’ mean y’ll be spendin’ th’ day with me?

Sometimes you gotta run before you can walk.

Fri, 15 Jun 2012 06:21:01 +0800

Sometimes you gotta run before you can walk.

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Fri, 15 Jun 2012 04:44:22 +0800

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Fri, 15 Jun 2012 03:02:01 +0800

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Fri, 15 Jun 2012 01:28:54 +0800

kathystarkpeople started following you

Thu, 14 Jun 2012 22:55:20 +0800

kathystarkpeople:

“…..” Kathy stares at him for a brief moment, before brushing off her concern.

“Uhm…yeah. They do- he tells me that all the time; so do a lot of other people. They say I am the spitting image of a young Maria Stark…”

“Well,” Anthony says, dipping his head a bit. “Y’ are, little lady. Maria Stark was a Lady o’ th’ land when I was younger—from hazy mem’ries I got, ‘m pretty sure the Stark name’s properly attached t’ ya.”

Taking in a breath, he lifts his hand to touch the side of his neck; counting the beats. “Nev’r really got yer first name, did I?”