Project: Contingency_sharethewealth
Mar. 7th, 2017 10:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerYet another test. I still don't get the relevance of carbon tracking to all but a select few (and wouldn't you be more likely to use it to figure out unknown mechs, not well-known ones?) Oh well, wish me luck tomorrow.
~Dreamer~
Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Iron Man Crossover (Self-Made Hero)
Summary: Xander gets a call from Buffy.
Word Count: 1045
Rating: Gen, spoiler contained within for The Body
Huh, is there? I didn’t notice. He stands up and rolls his shoulders. Apparently he’d been kneeling for too long in one place, because he’s getting a bit stiff. His knee hurts. At least he beats the Tonys to any ‘old’ jokes by thinking of it first, which makes more than a few of them pout playfully.
Yeah, Tony replies, fond and amused, and ruffles Xander’s hair mentally. That’s why I kept an ear out. Star’s been trying to tell you about it for ages.
School’s still canceled due to freak blizzard, right? He asks, suddenly frantic. He hadn’t bothered to do his homework but instead cranked up the heat and started work on a new model. He can’t believe he never bothered to put in tasers before. The lack of missiles is purposeful for Project: Under the Covers (i.e. Project: Subtle, he’d been overruled on Project name by popular vote)—they draw too much attention, and he doesn’t want to tempt fate after still not getting in trouble for the rocket launcher.
Seriously. He has no idea how he walked out of that one.
Won’t know until you answer. That earns a few laughs, and Xander nods toward the screen, wrench in hand.
“Hit it, Star.”
“You took your time,” she grumps, but does as asked.
He blinks as Buffy appears on-screen. “Did I catch you drowning in oil?” she asks. It’s supposed to be funny, but it’s more tentative than anything. Then again, she’s been distant and uncertain since the funeral, so…
Instantly, ten of the Tonys in his head produce glasses of alcohol and drink to Joyce’s memory. It’s touching and weird at the same time, especially since he tends to get a headache if they’re too over the top with their mental drinking.
“Uh, no. I guess I’ve got stuff on my face.” He grins good-naturedly and tries to wipe it off with a sleeve. Given the face Buffy makes, it’s not very successful. “If I was drowning in anything, you’d probably hear a lot more screams. Or gurgling, at least. And a frantic Star.”
She smiles, but her eyes look too bright, and he nearly panics.
He does not. He grabs one of the rags and tries to wipe off his hands, at least. And settles down, hopping into a sitting position on top of the desk. It might be an unorthodox use of the furniture, but he’d stress tested it, and he liked the room to look at the people calling. Even though half of them still don’t know how to properly use a video phone. He’s working on customer training. And better, more intuitive interfaces.
“Okay, what can I help with? You know me, Mr. Helpful. Always helping out.” He resists the urge to babble in the favor of letting her talk.
“I, um.” She hesitates, then plunges on. “I need a job. Do you think…maybe…?” It’s costing her pride to ask.
He smiles. Not to grin too broadly, of course. “I don’t know if Will’s noticed, but she’s an employee. As in, she does cool stuff and money appears in her bank account. Which makes me a stealth employer. I actually do have a company, Knight Innovations because I nearly went with Industries to be like Stark and then realized that’s an actual thing and I haven’t watched Knight Rider recently enough, apparently, and I should probably avoid lawsuits, by this point, but it’s fairly small. So no International, either, because that would be a lie, and Knight Solutions just doesn’t roll off the tongue. We could really use some expansion. I’m having trouble finding employees, for one thing. They have to be trusted with pretty much everything, since I’m letting them into my home since we kinda don’t have a second location yet. Especially since I have to go to classes and do homework sometimes. I’m mostly needing help with a lot of heavy lifting. Which is hard to find around here. I’m mostly having to make do with tech-augmented muscles.”
That earns a small if genuine smile back. “Don’t overpay me. Because I’m starting to get the feeling you could.”
He shrugs modestly. “Most of it is through dummy corporations and credited to various individuals, and I’m not being super obvious about it like buying winning lottery tickets or betting on sports or anything, but my stock options just keep climbing in price. It’s like I know the future or something.” He waggles his eyebrows, baring his teeth in one of Stark’s oddly friendly wolf-smiles, then pauses. “I wouldn’t expect you to report in tomorrow, but I’ll expect you fairly early the next day. I probably won’t be around to supervise all that much—I actually am trying to graduate college, surprise surprise, but Star can help out with anything you need. She knows what projects I’m working on.” He sees her expression fall and adds quickly, “Also, if we ever do get our offices in LA, I hear they have some terrific night classes which won’t be a problem for someone whose job it is to stay up late anyway.”
Buffy blinks again, then places her hands on her hips, looking suspicious. “And here I thought Willow was making stuff up about Stark being super invasive. You’ve planned our whole lives, haven’t you.”
He attempts not to fidget. “Not really. I mean…yeah, I’ve got contingencies upon contingencies, and if any of you ever need a backup plan I’m your guy. I’ve got you covered.” He coughs. Maybe it’s time to invent a robot vacuum or something; the warehouse is getting dusty. “I, uh. I do also have perimeter cameras set up, but it’s Star’s job to watch those, not mine. Unless there’s something like a monster sneaking in that needs to be brought to my attention.”
Buffy shakes her head, looking fondly exasperated. “That’s not getting you in trouble with Anya, is it?”
He blushes. “Uh, no. I think she’s a voyeur. And an exhibitionist. I’m pretty sure she wants to see the footage, too. But I won’t let her. You’re welcome.”
She rolls her eyes. “Stay warm, boss.” And she hangs up.
~Dreamer~
Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Iron Man Crossover (Self-Made Hero)
Summary: Xander gets a call from Buffy.
Word Count: 1045
Rating: Gen, spoiler contained within for The Body
There’s a phone ringing, Tony helpfully relays, drink in hand, as he watches Xander tinker with the Paladin Suit, Mark 25.
Huh, is there? I didn’t notice. He stands up and rolls his shoulders. Apparently he’d been kneeling for too long in one place, because he’s getting a bit stiff. His knee hurts. At least he beats the Tonys to any ‘old’ jokes by thinking of it first, which makes more than a few of them pout playfully.
Yeah, Tony replies, fond and amused, and ruffles Xander’s hair mentally. That’s why I kept an ear out. Star’s been trying to tell you about it for ages.
School’s still canceled due to freak blizzard, right? He asks, suddenly frantic. He hadn’t bothered to do his homework but instead cranked up the heat and started work on a new model. He can’t believe he never bothered to put in tasers before. The lack of missiles is purposeful for Project: Under the Covers (i.e. Project: Subtle, he’d been overruled on Project name by popular vote)—they draw too much attention, and he doesn’t want to tempt fate after still not getting in trouble for the rocket launcher.
Seriously. He has no idea how he walked out of that one.
Won’t know until you answer. That earns a few laughs, and Xander nods toward the screen, wrench in hand.
“Hit it, Star.”
“You took your time,” she grumps, but does as asked.
He blinks as Buffy appears on-screen. “Did I catch you drowning in oil?” she asks. It’s supposed to be funny, but it’s more tentative than anything. Then again, she’s been distant and uncertain since the funeral, so…
Instantly, ten of the Tonys in his head produce glasses of alcohol and drink to Joyce’s memory. It’s touching and weird at the same time, especially since he tends to get a headache if they’re too over the top with their mental drinking.
“Uh, no. I guess I’ve got stuff on my face.” He grins good-naturedly and tries to wipe it off with a sleeve. Given the face Buffy makes, it’s not very successful. “If I was drowning in anything, you’d probably hear a lot more screams. Or gurgling, at least. And a frantic Star.”
She smiles, but her eyes look too bright, and he nearly panics.
He does not. He grabs one of the rags and tries to wipe off his hands, at least. And settles down, hopping into a sitting position on top of the desk. It might be an unorthodox use of the furniture, but he’d stress tested it, and he liked the room to look at the people calling. Even though half of them still don’t know how to properly use a video phone. He’s working on customer training. And better, more intuitive interfaces.
“Okay, what can I help with? You know me, Mr. Helpful. Always helping out.” He resists the urge to babble in the favor of letting her talk.
“I, um.” She hesitates, then plunges on. “I need a job. Do you think…maybe…?” It’s costing her pride to ask.
He smiles. Not to grin too broadly, of course. “I don’t know if Will’s noticed, but she’s an employee. As in, she does cool stuff and money appears in her bank account. Which makes me a stealth employer. I actually do have a company, Knight Innovations because I nearly went with Industries to be like Stark and then realized that’s an actual thing and I haven’t watched Knight Rider recently enough, apparently, and I should probably avoid lawsuits, by this point, but it’s fairly small. So no International, either, because that would be a lie, and Knight Solutions just doesn’t roll off the tongue. We could really use some expansion. I’m having trouble finding employees, for one thing. They have to be trusted with pretty much everything, since I’m letting them into my home since we kinda don’t have a second location yet. Especially since I have to go to classes and do homework sometimes. I’m mostly needing help with a lot of heavy lifting. Which is hard to find around here. I’m mostly having to make do with tech-augmented muscles.”
That earns a small if genuine smile back. “Don’t overpay me. Because I’m starting to get the feeling you could.”
He shrugs modestly. “Most of it is through dummy corporations and credited to various individuals, and I’m not being super obvious about it like buying winning lottery tickets or betting on sports or anything, but my stock options just keep climbing in price. It’s like I know the future or something.” He waggles his eyebrows, baring his teeth in one of Stark’s oddly friendly wolf-smiles, then pauses. “I wouldn’t expect you to report in tomorrow, but I’ll expect you fairly early the next day. I probably won’t be around to supervise all that much—I actually am trying to graduate college, surprise surprise, but Star can help out with anything you need. She knows what projects I’m working on.” He sees her expression fall and adds quickly, “Also, if we ever do get our offices in LA, I hear they have some terrific night classes which won’t be a problem for someone whose job it is to stay up late anyway.”
Buffy blinks again, then places her hands on her hips, looking suspicious. “And here I thought Willow was making stuff up about Stark being super invasive. You’ve planned our whole lives, haven’t you.”
He attempts not to fidget. “Not really. I mean…yeah, I’ve got contingencies upon contingencies, and if any of you ever need a backup plan I’m your guy. I’ve got you covered.” He coughs. Maybe it’s time to invent a robot vacuum or something; the warehouse is getting dusty. “I, uh. I do also have perimeter cameras set up, but it’s Star’s job to watch those, not mine. Unless there’s something like a monster sneaking in that needs to be brought to my attention.”
Buffy shakes her head, looking fondly exasperated. “That’s not getting you in trouble with Anya, is it?”
He blushes. “Uh, no. I think she’s a voyeur. And an exhibitionist. I’m pretty sure she wants to see the footage, too. But I won’t let her. You’re welcome.”
She rolls her eyes. “Stay warm, boss.” And she hangs up.
