meet anthony stane, dirt-poor blacksmith of a small village in the middle of nowhere. nothing beats the things he forges--but could anyone expect any less?
[ au tony stark account--tracking the justablacksmith tag ]
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.
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?
Come on now, there’s only four letters that you need to pronounce. I know you can do it.
Well, I can tell you that no one that I know is a necromancer — I’ve honestly only ever read of them in books. But hey, it’s your choice. |She stares at him wide eyed.| Why free? We’ve only just met and you want to give me a suit of armor for free? That’s very generous of you but I can’t accept that!
|She notices the bit of pain and furrows her brows, although she doesn’t say anything about it| A-alright .. I believe you. |Her lips curve slightly, in a weary smile| how long are you going to keep that up, Sir Anthony?
Tech-no-lo—nope.
An’ I’m givin’ it for free because I’m askin’ for your perfect company in exchange. [He laughs, like that had been obvious, a hand reaching upward to messily run his fingers through his hair.] ‘s a magnificently steeper price t’ pay, if I do say so m’self. Can’t force y’ to pay up without feelin’ bad.
Keepin’ it up as long as I can. [He smiles himself, shrugging.] Addin’ the sir to my name, though? I’m no knight, Ms. Banner. S’pose maybe in another life, bu’ not this one. Might have me mistaken fer another Anthony out there.
techno - logy, can you say that? |She can’t help but start cracking up| No, they don’t. People actually go to prison for trying to do things like that. It would be like .. giving one of your suits of armor a mind of its own.
Okay now that— that was the multiverse. I haven’t exactly figured that one out yet, and that’s my field of ‘witchcraft’. It does sound like you’re from a very beautiful place— but I’m afraid they’d want to burn me at the stake. .. how much would it cost?
Because we were born with Anthony senses and know when you’re doing things you’re not supposed to. Just kidding, we tend to look out for people even if we don’t really want to. I - I mean, well… if it gets you to keep yourself healthy and alive, why not?
Techno—
—how’s about I call it techno-whoozawhatsit fer th’ rest o’ my life, eh?
An’, one, not into givin’ my suits minds of their own—they’re indestructible, an’ knowin’ th’ general stuff o’ necromancy, ‘m pretty sure they’d be evil. Also, two, your armor’ll be soul-free, promise—an’ on that note, ‘s all free. [Anthony grins, despite the fact that he’s dirt-poor and could probably use the money. It seems after word of his accident and his weakened state traveled, people pitied him and chose not to hire him anymore. It’s more bothersome than anything—but this woman doesn’t treat him any different, or so that’s what he assumes; and she deserves a prize for it.]
‘m alive, though, alright? Not expirin’ anytime soon. [He thumps a hand on his chest, the pressure his upper teeth give to his lower throughout the grin increasing a little to mask the twinge of pain.] This ticker here’s th’ most stubborn thing in th’ world—trust me on that, beautiful lady.
No no no. AI stands for artificial intelligence. Technology.
That’s sweet. I’m glad it still.. exists in some people, even if these people are so far back in time. |She laughs a bit, looking away| I might just accept it in order to get you to hush. If you’re happy with doing it then .. why not? Oh? Don’t you think he needs to come out — even for a little while? Well, Anthony, you better take care of yourself or I’ll get on you ten times worse.
… Techno-things. Right. T’was perfectly aware o’ that. Developin’ said techno-hurds sounds like this Tony’s passion—s’pose I’d like it if ‘artificial smartness’ wasn’t a terrifyin’ thing. They take people’s brains out an’ turn ‘em fake, then? Morbid.
An’, beautiful lady, seein’ how witchcra—techno-whooze brough’ me here, pretty sure it’ll let me take y’ on a field trip t’ my place. Small town, dirt roads, none of these fancy future things—but, y’know—makes me happy an’ all that. You can even watch me forge yer armor.
I’m—why d’you Banners think I’m not takin’ care o’ myself? Hurtful, tha’ is. But, in fairness, if I’ve got such a pretty lady lookin’ after me, I s’pose I wouldn’t mind much.
Well, the reason the house can talk is because of the AI that’s connected to it. Besides being a genius billionaire, Tony’s quite the diva. If burning at the stake brought him some kind of popularity he’d go along with it. At least I think he would. |She smiled a bit, her cheeks tinting| Forgive me, I haven’t exactly gotten used to compliments, yet. Chivalry has nearly gone and died, Mister Anthony.
Now if you went and did that for me, I wouldn’t sell it. I’d keep it for myself and admire it everyday. You’d have worked hard on it just for me, and that would be every reason for me to keep it. Maybe as an heirloom, even.
Maybe you should ask him, then? I see no harm in doing something like that. You seem healthy enough, though. Whatever do you need a doctor for?
A… I? [The term is foreign, making his brows pull together slightly.] Tha’s… a new term. ‘s it some cultist thing from th’ future?
An’ chivalry, Ms. Banner, is th’ very core of my being. S’pose if I tell you y’re beautiful enough times, you’ll believe me. [He grins.] An’ I’d be honored if my work’d become a family heirloom. Askin’ your past male self, though—tha’s a no-go. Guy’s only ever int’rested in his medical practice—which is why I see him. Yeah, uh—had a bit of an accident, few months back. He likes checkin’ me up ‘til I’ve healed properly.
Witchcraft? It’s actually called technology. |taps her lip| So you’re .. from that point in time, then? I should have expected that what with the way you talk. You even refer to me in the politest manner. |her lips curve into a smile| Tony is very much from the future, his house even talks.
|She laughs with him, noticing the wheeze.| If he’s anything like me, he’s only doing it because he cares about you. If you take better care of yourself, I’m sure he’ll relent on the scolding and I won’t have to start. Pfft, I was just kidding. I don’t actually need armor.
A talkin’ house? There’s techno-whatsit, I’ll give y’ that, but a talkin’ house sounds like downright blasphemy. He’d be burned at the stake—but I bet that’s why he did it. [He grins, rubbing the back of his neck.] An’, yeah, I’m gonna agree with y’ on the time thing. But, why can’t I call y’ Miss? Beautiful women should always be treated with respect—‘s what Obie always said.
Incidentally, I would’a prob’ly made you the suit anyway. “Ye Lords of old” are pretty fond of ‘em—I bet it’d sell a couple o’ cash if y’ sold it in your world. Artifacts of ancient places an’ things.
An’ Bruce Banner’s just my Doc—though maybe he’s a friend or somethin’ considerin’ he’s bein’ a rat’s ass with his “professionalism”. Professionalism my behind.
Stane?
A change of last name .. and occupation, maybe?You look just like someone I know. .. I uh … I’m Brielle Banner. It’s a pleasure to meet you.
|she smiles playfully| Do you think I could get a suit of armor?
I’ll take a gander an’ say I look like Tony Stark. [Anthony grins, shaking his head.] Nah. Wrong thing to think. He looks like me, considerin’ I’m older th’n him—I mean, ‘s what I think. Witchcraft, I hear, makes a hell of a lot of things possible; an’ th’ guy seems like a future-boy.
Ms. Banner, then. I know a Bruce of the same surname—pray tell y’ won’t scold me as much as that bastard. [He laughs, a bit of a wheezing quality added to it.] An’, yeah—‘course I can make y’ a suit of armor. Any specs y’ got?
Anthony Stane, blacksmith extraordinaire.
What can I do y’ for, ma’am?
