[The pizza delivery volus is not a pizza delivery system that Tony Stark has ever seen before. He gets momentarily, superficially distracted by its rotund figure and glowing eye lenses bumbling off with boxes in hands. But he's still listening, of course. He'd be listening to her through dozens of decibels of rock music, missile explosions, and the noise of his own misery. A pizza spaceboy isn't going to do much.
The Citadel. Sounds grand, monolithic. It's more hospitable than he'dve thought, somehow; simultaneously reminiscent of sleepy, suburban residential zones and sprawling luxury malls the likes of which you only find in the Middle East or East Asia. Up-and-coming cities with governments investing money in monuments of chrome and glass. Except this place feels somehow low-key. Functional. What is that music, some cross between dubstep and-- jazz? It's smooth and friendly, emanating from a shopfront behind him, to go with the sunny glow of light. Vegetation growing everywhere, and near as many people.
It takes him a disorienting second after Shepard describes the petal to realize the way the structure floats through the limitless recesses of space, how they two of them and thousands of others standing on a platform that has its own gravitational pull generated somehow. The nerd in him immediately begins to grapple with the concept. The skeptic in him wonders if she's embellishing, a little, in order to impress the nerd in him.
But mostly he's a boy, slipping his arm around the waist of a girl, wondering suddenly if her friends would like him. Not that Tony Stark is particularly gifted with caring about the opinions of others, but even he, occasionally, will dabble.]
It ain't Malibu, but it's cute, [he says.] Cozy. I should've guessed you're the type who likes to live in a warren. With 'sidewalks.' And 'neighbors.' Soldier of the people, aren't you? [As opposed to him, he means. Descending from his remote high towers only now and then, to attend parties and promotional events in war zones.] Did you have a best friend? I want to meet him first. Or her. Th--whatever genders that space likes.
[He pauses, blinking as a couple of krogans wander by commenting loudly about seafood availability. Looks back at her, his expression pleasantly blank.]
no subject
The Citadel. Sounds grand, monolithic. It's more hospitable than he'dve thought, somehow; simultaneously reminiscent of sleepy, suburban residential zones and sprawling luxury malls the likes of which you only find in the Middle East or East Asia. Up-and-coming cities with governments investing money in monuments of chrome and glass. Except this place feels somehow low-key. Functional. What is that music, some cross between dubstep and-- jazz? It's smooth and friendly, emanating from a shopfront behind him, to go with the sunny glow of light. Vegetation growing everywhere, and near as many people.
It takes him a disorienting second after Shepard describes the petal to realize the way the structure floats through the limitless recesses of space, how they two of them and thousands of others standing on a platform that has its own gravitational pull generated somehow. The nerd in him immediately begins to grapple with the concept. The skeptic in him wonders if she's embellishing, a little, in order to impress the nerd in him.
But mostly he's a boy, slipping his arm around the waist of a girl, wondering suddenly if her friends would like him. Not that Tony Stark is particularly gifted with caring about the opinions of others, but even he, occasionally, will dabble.]
It ain't Malibu, but it's cute, [he says.] Cozy. I should've guessed you're the type who likes to live in a warren. With 'sidewalks.' And 'neighbors.' Soldier of the people, aren't you? [As opposed to him, he means. Descending from his remote high towers only now and then, to attend parties and promotional events in war zones.] Did you have a best friend? I want to meet him first. Or her. Th--whatever genders that space likes.
[He pauses, blinking as a couple of krogans wander by commenting loudly about seafood availability. Looks back at her, his expression pleasantly blank.]