[ Silence never really sat well with Tony, not when his head is full of a million thoughts whirling too fast to handle, his throat too full of words to be any kind of coherent. It stretches like an open wound, raw edged and angry and always that anger turned inward. His father had wanted him quiet, made him sit and sulk and simmer and paste a fucking smile on over it because company was over, because it wouldn't do for the Starks to have a son that felt anything but bland amusement.
Call him bitter, he is. Call him not entirely well adjusted- that's not untrue.
But it's given him a distinct inability to hold this shit in when he's somewhere he feels comfortable and- that's always been the workshop. Rhodey's not here because Rhodey's slept through this revelation- so he's got an earful to look forward to in the morning when HE gets on the hype train to how Tony's fucked it all up- but usually? If he can't talk to Pep, he talks to Rhodey. If he can't talk to Rhodey- he talks to Jarvis.
Bruce is here and...trying. While Tony knows damn well he's trying, so. With a cracked giggle that's on this side of hysteria, barely, he scrubs a hand over his face, groaning into the air. Seal popped. Out come the words. ]
I didn't think it needed to be a thing till after I died, just a way to make sure that no one tries to use J or the boys or hurt them when I'm gone but it's kind of impossible to give someone a social security number if their legal status is a shrug emoji. Getting it put through won't be an issue, Jarvis exists as a benevolent precedent so it's not all on you- but keeping it quiet? That's the bitch of it. Because I don't have enough people claiming I'm the anti-christ trying to force the techological apocalypse on mankind or some shit, and that's what it'll be all day, every day, which'll influence the vote, and there's no way to spin this beause people will want to know why and I can't fucking answer that in any sort of boilerplate because I don't fucking know.
[ Which. Is the real bitch of it, really. He does't know. He saw he could do the thing and did the thing because of an impulse. Because- he doesn't know. Inspiration comes and he follows it until he has a product. ]
And it's not the first time I haven't had a fucking plan for what I've made, something sticks in my brain till I need to make it happen just to get it out and stop haunting me and as long as it's something we can market and sell, ho shit, that's the best thing ever, way to go Tony, keep up the good work, keep cranking out those golden fucking eggs-
[ Ah, fuck, bad thought, worst posture for that particular thought and he knows he's fine, he knows, he's absolutely fine but a hand snags and claws at his shirt till it's over the reactor, pressing down until he can feel the hum and thrum and reminder that it's there in his chest and he's fine, it's fine, everything's fucking fine.
Except it's not, it's hard to breathe and, fuck. Now is not the time. Now is very much not the fucking time- he sucks air in through his teeth, hunching forward, one hand over his eyes, the other still pressed tight against the reactor. He's fine. It's fine. Everything is fine. ]
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Call him bitter, he is. Call him not entirely well adjusted- that's not untrue.
But it's given him a distinct inability to hold this shit in when he's somewhere he feels comfortable and- that's always been the workshop. Rhodey's not here because Rhodey's slept through this revelation- so he's got an earful to look forward to in the morning when HE gets on the hype train to how Tony's fucked it all up- but usually? If he can't talk to Pep, he talks to Rhodey. If he can't talk to Rhodey- he talks to Jarvis.
Bruce is here and...trying. While Tony knows damn well he's trying, so. With a cracked giggle that's on this side of hysteria, barely, he scrubs a hand over his face, groaning into the air. Seal popped. Out come the words. ]
I didn't think it needed to be a thing till after I died, just a way to make sure that no one tries to use J or the boys or hurt them when I'm gone but it's kind of impossible to give someone a social security number if their legal status is a shrug emoji. Getting it put through won't be an issue, Jarvis exists as a benevolent precedent so it's not all on you- but keeping it quiet? That's the bitch of it. Because I don't have enough people claiming I'm the anti-christ trying to force the techological apocalypse on mankind or some shit, and that's what it'll be all day, every day, which'll influence the vote, and there's no way to spin this beause people will want to know why and I can't fucking answer that in any sort of boilerplate because I don't fucking know.
[ Which. Is the real bitch of it, really. He does't know. He saw he could do the thing and did the thing because of an impulse. Because- he doesn't know. Inspiration comes and he follows it until he has a product. ]
And it's not the first time I haven't had a fucking plan for what I've made, something sticks in my brain till I need to make it happen just to get it out and stop haunting me and as long as it's something we can market and sell, ho shit, that's the best thing ever, way to go Tony, keep up the good work, keep cranking out those golden fucking eggs-
[ Ah, fuck, bad thought, worst posture for that particular thought and he knows he's fine, he knows, he's absolutely fine but a hand snags and claws at his shirt till it's over the reactor, pressing down until he can feel the hum and thrum and reminder that it's there in his chest and he's fine, it's fine, everything's fucking fine.
Except it's not, it's hard to breathe and, fuck. Now is not the time. Now is very much not the fucking time- he sucks air in through his teeth, hunching forward, one hand over his eyes, the other still pressed tight against the reactor. He's fine. It's fine. Everything is fine. ]