1963-06-26 - When to Ask
Summary: Raven aka Malin Severide pays Tony a nightly visit.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
tony raven 

Travelling had it's perks. You can stop and drop someone off at the precinct and go on your merry way. Right to the shower and a departure of a man who was going to go do no good, lifting wallets and liberating diamonds from their hostage points..

To an all too exclusive office space with her dressed to the nines, right in Stark Tower.

To say that some much needed exercise was an understatement. Glasses were smashed, liquor took a tumble onto the floor which was spilled, bodies hitting the floor there after in a tangle of blonde and dark brown with a leg here and an article of clothing there.

Then quiet.

And then more furniture toppling so much that a dent was left in the wall, why is that empty bottle there and hey.. I have an idea..

What is this thing? Oh, I hav— NO TONY DO—

Was that a laser fire?

It was the dusk of night as they both remain upon the floor, the office itself in shambles but at least there was a blanket there to cover them from prying eyes. Raven keeps her eyes pressed to the ceiling as she lightly tangles fingers within her blonde hair. A quiet moment of reflection.. for well.. 'Malin Severide'.


Tony wasn't sure what brought Malin by, but he certainly wasn't complaining. He liked a good tussle, especially when a beautiful blonde and a fair amount of liquor was involved.

He slowly sits up and reaches over to get his cigarette case, "Want one?" he says, offering her one of his Turkish cigarettes as he lights one himself. He wasn't sure what was going on with this one - she was more than she claimed, for certain, but he hadn't quite figured out her angle yet. Well, not all of her angles. Some of the nicer angles he'd explored at length.

"So, you just need some exercise or were you visiting for a reason?" he says lightly.


He wasn't the type that she could talk to. He wasn't Charles, he wasn't Erik. In fact, she wasn't sure that he cared all that much. But the offer of the cigarette was taken up by a pluck of one from his very own lips after it was lit, 'Malin' rolling over onto her side to watch him for a moment, turning her chin up towards the sky to allow the smoke plume to billow towards the ceiling with a push of her breath.

"Both actually." She answers in a cool, svelte tone. "Though that answer could be one in the same."

She presses the cigarette to his lips, waiting for him to take a hit. "Perhaps I just wanted the company of a man who'd give it up easy to a woman like me."


Tony laughs, "Please. You could have most any man you want in the palm of your manicured hand and you know it," he says, the ember of his cig glowing and lighting the sharp planes of his face, a reminder that he's younger than his reputation might reflect, only just turned 30.

"Well, why don't you tell mem the other reason, and then we can try a second round of the first," he says, getting up and walking over to pour them a drink from his bottle of whiskey, leaving behind the blanket. Apparently, he doesn't much care about modesty.


'Malin' grins completely, shaking her head. "Its familiarity that I'm going for. Not a random." She'd bop his nose with her finger, drawing the cigarette away to lay back upon the floor as he takes off on his own.

"Are you sure you want to hear the woes of a debutante?" She murmurs teasingly. "Or would you rather settle for the first and not talk about what ails my troubled mind." She does let out a soft sigh, a serious expression put on. "Tell me. What do you think of mutant kind?"


Tony raises an eyebrow as he comes back with the bottle tucked under his arm, along with two glasses with ice. "Definitely not the question I was expecting, but certainly an interesting one," he says.

He settles back down next to her and pours their drinks, rolling his around and taking a sip before he answers. "I think…mutants are fascinating. I wonder how long they've existed. I'd like to understand how their abilities work. I suspect there are probably a lot more of them than people think. And I think that reactionary assholes who freak out about anything different or out of their control will react to them the same way as they react to homosexuals and black people and Communists," he says.


"You asked." Raven grins, drawing herself upright as she sheet falls by the wayside.

She reaches out to take her glass from his hand, waiting for him to pour her a sliver as she listens, her head bobbing slightly. "From a scientific point of view. You want to dissect them, possibly.." She was feeling him out, her eye squinting.

"Though I tend to agree yes. It seems as if the mutant kind itself is a population that is well hidden and secretly overriding the norm. Yet, I find myself amused that you, Mr. Tony Stark, like to mingle with the off-colored rabble of such few. Though not in the not in the public eye, I presume?"


Tony considers, "I wouldn't dissect them," he says. "They're people, not specimens. Not to mention surgery and dissection are particularly crude methods of investigation - I imagine most mutants have the same internal organs as most people. Superhuman strength or mind-reading doesn't require anything different from your liver or your spleen," he says.

"I mingle with whoever I choose, in or out of the public eye. I have no fear of association. Not that my reputation is necessarily something mutants would want," he smiles. "I don't know if I know any mutants directly - at least, that are openly mutants. I don't ask either. I know plenty of people without powers who are awful and a rare few that are good and worthwhile and true. I suspect that such gifts don't affect that percentage very much."


"Mm. Pour my drink."

"You'd be surprised at where their organs lie." Raven herself could shift her heart. Painful process but one that she rarely ever does unless she knows that a stab was coming. Or a shot. It's been a long time since.

"I suppose you're right. There is already enough with the blacks in the media being crucified as such. Imagine when a mutant decides to take up the mantle of being -the- face of mutant kind. The hate of the unknowing." She frowns just a touch, then shakes her head.

"Gifts no. They do not. However, that one percent of awful people who -do- have powers.." She tilts her glass, keeping the rest of her words to herself.


Tony nods, "Will make a hell of a lot of trouble for the rest. One bad apple and all that," he says. "So, am I to take it that this discussion is entirely philosophical, or do you have an investment in my answer one way or another?" he says.

He -is- known for being pretty smart, is Tony Stark.


"Philosophical.." She murmurs, placing the glass down as she pulls him beneath her with a swift movement that lands her on top. The bottle was taken from the floor, the glasses poured, 'Malin' settling in to take a slight sip. "Though, it is nice to know where you stand with all things.."

And Raven, is an exceptional liar. "..it has to do with the police man that was abducted and returned with a missing eye. It has me a touch worried, is all."


She is an exceptional liar, which certainly means that he's getting no tells from her. He's experienced at reading bluffs, having spent plenty of time in Vegas with Frank and the boys. She was a cool, cool customer.

Her story still didn't add up.

"You don't seem that worried," he says. "But people missing eyes certainly is the sort of thing that gets attention," he says. "I admit, I haven't followed the story, though. I skip to the crossword."


'Malin takes a sip, a rather large sip that empties the contents of her glass. "Call it me having a clear poker face." She confesses. Or lies.

"Tell me the truth, Anthony Stark." 'Malin' murmurs sweetly, shifting herself backwards so that he could sit up if need be. "You care." Her glass is wiggled as the ice clinks within. "Tormoil within the city and a man like you does nothing but crosswords and the like? I call poppycock.."


Tony considers for a moment, "Maybe," he says. "But when I intervene in something, there really will be a lot of attention. A lot of media, a lot of cops. Feds. Iron Man brings a crowd," he says.

"The suit's a blunt instrument. If I need to knock down a wall or blast the living daylighits out of some lunatic, it's great to have. If I need to scare some pack of saboteurs or confront enemy agents, great. But anything subtle, anything that requires grace or thought - nah."


"Perhaps your intervention then, would have shed the light on the travesties that we deal with as a whole." She takes a lean forward, hovering over him as she assembles both glasses, pouring the drink to the top, the bottle itself emptied and rolled to join the lingering pile.

"Not to be your spokeswoman, Mr. Stark.. you really should voice your general concern with the treatment of everyone to the public." Though, a little grin draws upon her lips again as she lowers herself just enough to keep her glass angled over his lips. "Open your mouth."


Tony parts his lips to accept her offering, arching an eyebrow, "Perhaps," he says, taking a bit of drink in his mouth and swallowing heavily, more than a little drunk but not minding very much. Which is essentially his usual state of being.

"If I see an opportunity where people are willing to listen - that's always the key. You can shout in the loudest voice imaginable, but you have to have their attention first. And I know, I know, I always draw attention, that's part of being me. But it has to be the right kind of attention - sometimes I get noticed just for people to distort or hate what I have to say," he says. "Sometimes I want them to."


The glass was dropped down as Raven sinks low, listening to his words which were close to her ear, her lips pressing against his chin to follow along the line to nibble lightly upon his lobe, sinking down to the flesh upon his neck, that sweet spot that slopes just right. And she bites. Not hard. She wasn't that cruel.

"Why? Still a rebellous old soul in a body so young?" She questions, finally gripping the blankets to draw along her shoulders, shifting herself so that she rests along his side and half upon his chest. "Admittedly, you have given me great insight tonight. And no, if you're going to ask. I do not need help." She grins a little. "Not.. with that anyways."


Tony slides a hand over her back and considers, "My soul isn't old, it's just brilliant. Brilliant people seem mature to the feeble minds of mere mortals," he says teasingly, hissing as her teeth sink into his neck.

"If you do need my help - ask. I'd say ask nicely, but you've already been pretty damn nice, so ask however you want," he says.


"Ha.. ha…" 'Malin teases, nuzzling her nose into his neck.

"My brand of asking for help is something that I think you, Mr. Stark, need to stay away from." She shifts her leg so that she could give him a bump, then teases quietly in his ear. "Unless its something to do with nocturnal proclivities of course."


Tony laughs, "Night or day, I think my proclivities with you would stay very much the same," he smirks. "NOt that I don't enjoy our philosophical conversations."

"But sometimes, words aren't exactly whatt's needed," he says, returning the gesture to kiss at her neck right back.


"You're right." 'Malin' finalizes.

"Actions do indeed make the world go 'round.." And with a flourish of the blanket, the two 'disappear' from view.


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