Weapons Dealing

[st_arkravinghazelnut]

When your back was against a wall, it was time to return to basics. That's what Tony Stark told himself, anyway, as he entered the ever-glossy Copper Cafe, looking his sharpest in a dark suit vest, slacks and a goddamn proper haircut.

Was there any reason to look sharp for a raccoon? Probably not, but he was returning to his past life as a weapons manufacturer, here. You always dressed to get the best. Now that he was putting on weight again, he could finally fill a suit vest up. There was a little vanity in there. There was always going to be vanity in there.

And there was the raccoon, right there in the corner. If he ever imagined what a workspace for a trigger-happy bipedal Procyon lotor looked like, what he was seeing would have been it. Clashed with the ingratiatingly happy eatery just a tad. Tony could guess by the way no one having said anything there was probably a pretty good damn reason for it.

Approach. Not too fast, casual-like. Position yourself adjacent, not head on. Glance over. Pause, but not for too long. Attaboy.

"Rocket. Right?" Tony cleared his throat, leaning back against the wall. "Tony Stark. I'm seeking your expertise."

Comments

[st_arkravinghazelnut]

"Whoever thinks that would have packed it up years ago." Tony would cop to being a lover any day of the week, however. "Strongest dude on our team rode into battle in his drawers."

He adjusted his glasses. "Next steps?" Did raccoons shake on anything? They had opposable thumbs...

[st_ripetail]

Rocket shrugged. “‘S your equatin’, I’m just laughin’ at ya about it.” He slipped the little bits, bobs, and watch battery thing onto his own hand and tried a punch to the air. It displaced more air than it should have, with a little whump! noise.

Concussive force proof of concept. Good. “Next steps is I hunt you down when I got somethin’ to test, I guess.”

[st_arkravinghazelnut]

"No force necessary." Given Rocket's obvious violence fetish, it felt needed to clarify. He rose with another gentler pat to the table. Despite the near-constant barrage of insults to every facet of his being, Tony had a hard time feeling dissatisfied with a weapons deal that was as to the point as this. No frills, no extensive contracting, no human rights abuses.

"Actually, if I'm in my room, apply as much force to everything but the workspace and maybe the couch as you want. Saves me the effort."

The room had barely graduated from "vicious contempt" to "maybe tolerable if I'm blacking out" in a month's time.

[st_ripetail]

Force was maybe not necessary, but was always fun. "Eh, I do things right, testing's gonna be violent enough."

[st_arkravinghazelnut]

Another chuckle--what was a decent weapon without a decent stress test?

"Let's roll some goddamn heads." He struck out towards the counter, leaving Rocket to his diligent tinkering. If anything, this was as good as a sign to start stocking up on his protein.