Video;

[manofiron]

[ The video begins with a dark-haired man centered in the middle of the frame. He’s got dark eyes, a precisely cut goatee, and hair that’s a little too styled to be naturally that neat. There isn’t a lot to see beyond his chin, he’s sitting too close to the camera, but what can be seen looks vaguely like a shirt of shiny red metal.

His brow knits almost immediately after the feed starts recording, his expression edging toward disbelief as his lips twist into a mild frown. ]

Look. I get it. In a time of crisis, rationing’s necessary to keep resources moving in the right direction. Perfectly understandable. You guys needed to save your turtle. What responsible citizen wouldn’t do their part for that noble cause?

[ There’s a slight hint f sarcasm creeping into his voice, as though he’s heard the whole turtle spiel already and not only hasn’t been impressed, but also doesn’t really buy it either. Not even after having spent half a day scouring the network for information about what’s really going on here before making this video. ]

But really? Twenty bucks?

[ The low, indistinct murmur of another voice can be heard, though what it’s saying and who it belongs to is anyone’s guess. Whatever it says, it’s enough to make the man roll his eyes. ]

Juulan. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. The point — [ Whether he’s talking to the camera or the unidentified voice is unclear. ] — is that it isn’t enough for a day, let alone the entire bogus adventure.

[ It isn’t so much the way he looks at the camera – his eyes have never left it – but the change of his tone, less querulous and more curious, that indicates that he’s talking to whoever’s on the other end of the console. ]

So really. Turtle propaganda aside. What’s a guy gotta do to get some decent money around here? Sell his organs? Hit the street corners? Scrub barnacles off the bottom of the turtle? What?

Comments

[storm_warning]

Hey, you're the one that asked for the narcissism check. [She turns over the tribble, petting the other side; there's no real up or down with them, so it's not weird to her.]

How's it go? Ask not, lest yee be Shatnered?

[manofiron]

[ There's something inexplicably hypnotic about watching her pet the fuzzy ball of hair. Especially when she turns it over, like it doesn't have a front or a back or a top or a bottom. What the hell kind of thing is it? ]

Okay, I'm really getting distracted by your hairball. What is that? Is it alive or is it some kind of stress relieving... thing?

[storm_warning]

This thing? [She tosses it in her hand, which triggers a startled wee warble from it.] It's both. Sort of.

[Ororo holds it up closer to the console so he can get a look at it.]

They're called tribbles.

[manofiron]

[ That warble makes him wince in unconscious sympathy. ]

So it's a living hairball. Okay. That's... bizarre. What else does it do? Besides sit there and chirp at you?

[storm_warning]

[Worry not, PETA Stark, for it's back to purring a few seconds later. Ororo lays that one down near the console so that Tony can watch it, then just... picks up another for the hand-cuddling.]

It makes more of itself? [Shrug.] They reproduce fast, but I hear keeping them on ice slows the process.

[manofiron]

[ This is the craziest looking hairball-cat-gremlin thing he's ever seen. ]

Does it actually reproduce or is it self-replicating? Where did it come from? Is it native to the turtle?

[storm_warning]

[Ororo kind of stares at that, then squints, then looks at the one in-hand.]

Whoa. You are asking the wrong person. I know horticulture, not tribble-culture.

[manofiron]

That's more culture than me.

[ Living organic things and Tony don't get along. Machines, no problem. Anything that might die on him? No dice. ]

Plus you have what looks like an endless supply under your console. Seems like you're doing something right with them.

[storm_warning]

[Try tribbles. Even if you kill one, you have a dozen more to try again with.]

Yeah, right. I let them do their thing and they just... do it. It's pretty low maintenance.

[manofiron]

I like low maintenance. Low maintenance is great.

[ And that has nothing to do with the fact that he's high maintenance. Oh no. ]

Better than most pets.

[storm_warning]

Then these things are right up your alley.

[She has another two in hand now, for the record. Soothing Tribbles are soothing.]

And I wouldn't know. Pets aren't my thing.

[First person to comment on Beast being her boyfriend gets zapped.]

[manofiron]

I may have to get a few. Maybe.

They're not really my thing either. I prefer robots. No walks, no food bowls to fill, no hair getting shed all over the couch.

[storm_warning]

[Ororo cringes at the robot reference.]

I'll pass. [There's bad blood -- oil? -- between her and robots.] In any case, boyfriends shed just as much as pets, so I can't win there either.

[manofiron]

[ His eyebrows rise. ]

Boyfriends shed? Is that like, actual boyfriends? Or metaphorical ones?

[storm_warning]

[Ororo arches a brow at his disbelief.]

Actual ones. Mine did -- all the time.

[She loves you still, Hank, but the fur gets everywhere.]

[manofiron]

[ The sneaking suspicion that he's in the presence of a furry starts to steal over him. Doesn't it just figure? It's always the gorgeous ones. ]

I'm going out on a limb here and assuming that you don't mean going bald prematurely.

[storm_warning]

[Half a laugh -- no more, no less.]

The only way Hank'd go bald is with some serious waxing.

[Said with the intonation that serious means Xtreme Sports Waxing. And, hey! She wasn't a furry to start, he just... changed. Involuntarily.]

[manofiron]

I'm trying to think of an anecdote here and I'm failing.

[ Wait. Rhodey isn't here. Maybe he can throw him under the bus. ]

Best friend tends to like his ladies with a little extra hair. It's not so unusual.

[storm_warning]

Good, because I'm fine with Hank. He just sheds a lot. [A shrug on her end.] Guess that's what happens when you're six feet of blue furred mutant.

[manofiron]

Blue furred...

What's a mutant?

[storm_warning]

[A beat, then she's running a hand through her hair in exasperation.]

Man, you're in the dark about that?

[A huff of air.]

It's me. And Hank. Professor Xavier's one and so's Kurt. [The other blue-furred guy; it's a thing.] We're sort of human, just... better. [A shrug.] Powers, bodies; something's different about each of us.

[manofiron]

Humans with special powers.

[ He doesn't miss that comment about being better, though he hears it just the same. ]

I know some people like that. So your man's got blue hair, huh? Dark blue or like teal blue?

[ Not that it matters. He's just curious. ]

[storm_warning]

'Post humans' is what we've been calling ourselves.

[Ororo doesn't sound snotty about that, just clarifying; she doesn't consider herself human any more than Tony considers himself, erm. Sober? Maybe?]

Dark blue, mostly. It's got highlights and lowlights, but dark's where it settles.

[manofiron]

Well, at least he stands out in a crowd, right? Has his own style that can't be imitated.

[ If he didn't live in Malibu, he'd probably make a crack about having someone warm and furry to curl up next to in the winter, but frigid temperatures aren't really something he deals with too often. ]

[storm_warning]

Yeah, when he goes out in one. [A mild comment with a hint of bitterness.] He doesn't go out much, what with public opinion being so crappy, but whatever.