[ Dum-E pivots to face his camera twoard Bruce, buzzes a tone not entirely unlike a raspberry-
Then flips his hand around to extend one of his three claws while keeping the other two closed tight. ]
Oh my god- did Barton teach you that? Barton taught you that.
[ It's anarchy in his lab. Disorganized chaos and that is the one thing that makes it home. More than anything else, more than the work under his hands and the warmth of Bruce's thigh brushed up against his, the buzzing whirr of a scandalized beep from U, who is truly the good child if Dum-E is picking up obscene gestures from their resident Hawk-guy.
It's a good night, replacing the innards of Bruce's phone and forgetting everything that had him wound tight in the first place.
But it doesn't last, not really. Rhodey has his piece to say in the morning which- that's fair. That's fine.
Then the lawyers with their questions, a psychiatrist wants to interview Jarvis to verify sentience before they breach the prospect of maybe dealing with Bruce. That'll be phase two of this whole ordeal. Then it's Pepper still not quite understanding, refusing to let Tony walk it off with an 'I don't know', an investor's meeting that drags on for fucking ever, a coding error in the armor that effects the navigation so he's benched for a mission that leaves Barton with a broken leg and Steve isn't blaming him at all but he'll carry that guilt alongside everything else without batting a lash because he should've been there to catch him-
Or at least been able to design a fucking parachute for him by now.
It's three, four days of this shit before he decides he needs to rearrange his schedule and make a few calls. A quick text to Toaster Bagel Triple Poop emoji (bruce) gives him all the heads up he'll need while he's out on the junkfood run and scheduling the takeout delivery. ]
Going to light up in the lab tonight, J's initiating lockdown protocol for sensitive aka dangerous experiments and tech. R&D's available if you need to work on anything.
[ Usually he doesn't do this alone but Rhodey is kind of pissed at him so. Smoking, snacking on shit that's terrible for him, and watching shitty scifi is the plan for the rest of the day. Tony's dressed down in worn cotton drawstring pants and an MIT tee when he comes up from the run, bags of chips, snack cakes, fresh fruit, and canned tea in his hands. Dum-E had cleared off the coffee table next to the sofa for him to start arranging this, the e-blunt (patent not really pending it's kind of illegal but whatever) and it's cartridges laid out alongside as he checks the time.
Just before nine in the morning. He plans to spend a solid twenty hours baked out of his mind- or at least enough that his mind shuts the fuck up for a day. A soft reset, keep shit from creeping up on him and dragging him down. ]
no subject
Then flips his hand around to extend one of his three claws while keeping the other two closed tight. ]
Oh my god- did Barton teach you that? Barton taught you that.
[ It's anarchy in his lab. Disorganized chaos and that is the one thing that makes it home. More than anything else, more than the work under his hands and the warmth of Bruce's thigh brushed up against his, the buzzing whirr of a scandalized beep from U, who is truly the good child if Dum-E is picking up obscene gestures from their resident Hawk-guy.
It's a good night, replacing the innards of Bruce's phone and forgetting everything that had him wound tight in the first place.
But it doesn't last, not really. Rhodey has his piece to say in the morning which- that's fair. That's fine.
Then the lawyers with their questions, a psychiatrist wants to interview Jarvis to verify sentience before they breach the prospect of maybe dealing with Bruce. That'll be phase two of this whole ordeal. Then it's Pepper still not quite understanding, refusing to let Tony walk it off with an 'I don't know', an investor's meeting that drags on for fucking ever, a coding error in the armor that effects the navigation so he's benched for a mission that leaves Barton with a broken leg and Steve isn't blaming him at all but he'll carry that guilt alongside everything else without batting a lash because he should've been there to catch him-
Or at least been able to design a fucking parachute for him by now.
It's three, four days of this shit before he decides he needs to rearrange his schedule and make a few calls. A quick text to Toaster Bagel Triple Poop emoji (bruce) gives him all the heads up he'll need while he's out on the junkfood run and scheduling the takeout delivery. ]
Going to light up in the lab tonight, J's initiating lockdown protocol for sensitive aka dangerous experiments and tech. R&D's available if you need to work on anything.
[ Usually he doesn't do this alone but Rhodey is kind of pissed at him so. Smoking, snacking on shit that's terrible for him, and watching shitty scifi is the plan for the rest of the day. Tony's dressed down in worn cotton drawstring pants and an MIT tee when he comes up from the run, bags of chips, snack cakes, fresh fruit, and canned tea in his hands. Dum-E had cleared off the coffee table next to the sofa for him to start arranging this, the e-blunt (patent not really pending it's kind of illegal but whatever) and it's cartridges laid out alongside as he checks the time.
Just before nine in the morning. He plans to spend a solid twenty hours baked out of his mind- or at least enough that his mind shuts the fuck up for a day. A soft reset, keep shit from creeping up on him and dragging him down. ]