riverviewlogs | (open) Be careful what you wish for

Entry tags:

(open) Be careful what you wish for

who: Sif, Steve and you
what: Sif and Steve will be doing some very intense sparring, and people are free to spectate, mingle, comment or maybe talk to the two of them once they are done.
when: Start of january
where: Somewhere pretty public, with enough space and a fountain nearby
warnings: Violence

Fight

This wasn't the first time she and Steve had sparred, but this day Sif was in a decidedly more aggressive mood. In spite of the chilly air, she was dressed in nothing more than her leather leggings and the long strip of cloth she used to bind her breasts. Her feet were clad in thin shoes that provided very little protection against the elements, and her hair was hanging down her back in a simple braid.

She bounced a little in place, shaking some tension out of her arms as she looked over at Steve to see if he was ready.

"Are you sure about this?"

He seemed to view her urge to bring down some pain as a fun challenge, but she was not convinced that he fully realised what he was asking for here.

Aftermath

Sweaty and panting, Sif made her way over to a nearby fountain that was full of slightly heated water to keep it running in spite of the cold weather.

She cupped her hands and splashed some water on her face, and then dipped her arms in deeper to rinse off some dirt and blood. It had been a good fight, and she was feeling momentarily calmer, some of her fury spent.

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Tony had been passing by to get more drinks so he could continue his quest to stay permanently drunk, but this he was going to stop for. Two ridiculously good looking people sweating and grappling each other? This was his aesthetic. One of them was barely wearing anything too.

A very thickly and warmly dressed ball of clothes is going to stand and watch nearby. He had to dress thickly, poor circulation had been a side effect of the medications he had taken over the years. However that isn't going to deter him from heckling them.

"Nice abs!"

What was a crowd watching a fight between two heavy-weights in the combat field if it didn't have some good hecklers. Pierce had come because he had heard the sparring session was happening, but he stayed to people watch and found himself entertained by both the experience of the combatants (always good to know what was out there) and the people making comments.

He meandered through the crowds that had gathered, pretending to be seeking a better spot to which to observe, but he settled himself next to a man just as that comment flew.

"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the abs in your experience?"

Tony doesn't spare the other man more than a passing glance. An old man asking this question could appear a little creepy, but he seems like he's just trying to make conversation rather than trying to creep on the combatants.

"I would never stoop so low as to rate Captain America's abs." A beat. "Nine out of ten since he's wearing clothes. She gets a perfect score."

Okay so he is the libertine here, but come on, no one is surprised.

Pierce considered himself too old - and likely refined - for the combatants anyway, but he snorted at the reply as it was good humour. One could always count on excellent ribbing from hecklers; they were so creative and that was truly underestimated and underappreciated.

"Does his score elevate to perfect when not wearing a shirt?" He was curious to the rating system here. "You know these two well or just passing by and taking an opportunity?"

"Get his shirt off and I could tell you. Imagination only gets you so far." He sighs melodramatically, fully aware that Steve has excellent hearing and is right there.

But the answer to the next question has him turning away from the spar to try reduce the chances of being overheard. His answer won't make Steve happy even if it is true. "I don't know them that well. I know if you ask Steve he'll say yes, but he tends to project his feelings about the version of me from his world."

Tony had a tendency to answer even the most sensitive questions with a raw honesty no one seemed to be able to deal with. He didn't change the subject or give an oblique answer and yet he was able to ensure no one took his words at face value.

"While I am astute at convincing people the positives of doing what I want, I don't believe even my powers of persuasion would generate that kind of response." He shrugged nonchalantly because that didn't bother him in the least. All of this was likely done with being overheard anyway. "Perhaps if you call in a favour with Mr. Barnes," he added, gesturing to Jim who was cheering Steve on.

He nodded his head, understanding both the need for the illusion of privacy and the sensitivity of the subject in question. His eyes continued to take in the sparring match so as not to draw attention to the conversation they were starting. "Ah yes, I'm still wrapping my head around different worlds, different people, different timelines and... divergent time theory."

That wasn't to say he didn't believe anyone about it. Accepting amazing facts while being immersed in a completely different world was not a fact he would allow to go by him. "Mr. Stark, is it then?"

Tony glances at Barnes with a pensive look on his face before he returns his attention to the older man. Finding out that in some other world James Barnes was responsible for the murder of his parents made him hesitant to approach the man even if this wasn't the same one.

"I'd say the one and only, but I'd be lying. So are you a fan or am I meant to know who you are?"

It was true on that; he had seen the Tony Stark that was apparently from his world, though he couldn't be certain of the timeline. It seemed a bit delicate to ask after what was the last thing someone recalled, and in his precarious state, he would rather play the card that he had no idea what they were talking about.

"Oh no, we aren't from the same world, but I am a fan of the work the other you does. Very ingenious," he said with a smile. "I imagine that you are top of the line as well." He turned enough to hold out a hand in greeting. "Alexander Pierce. A pleasure."

The name doesn't mean anything to him so Tony happily shakes his hand. He's familiar with HYDRA, but it was a very different organisation in his world.

"Charmed." He doesn't assume that the other Tony knows the man. They're both high profile people and it stands to reason strangers might know them. "I am the leading name in my fields."

He's also going to forget Pierce's name after this conversation if he's not given a reason to remember it. Since he's not a pretty lady, Tony isn't giving his full attention.

"Yes, if you're anything like your counterpart, the list of awards and titles seems longer than a ten-year-old's Christmas list to Santa," he said, smiling. He had seen some considerable lists and well, Tony had quite the number of awards.

"You seem overdressed for the weather," he remarked as a segue. "Perhaps once this sparring match is over, we can sit down for a coffee." And whatever additives that Tony may like to his.

Tony pulls his scarf higher in response. Despite his layers the chill still permeated and Pierce is being forward in a way he usually associated with women trying to get into his pants.

"...Sure, but can you even get it up?"

The association between coffee and his sexual prowess caused a raised eyebrow, but he never put any crass words leaping from a Tony Stark's mouth as anything other than normal. Likely it was to put people off or because Stark enjoyed it.

He chuckled instead. "Please, Mr. Stark, don't treat me like a piece of meat. The notion that you fit into my standards is a grand assumption." He was teasing, and with a wink he added to take an edge off, "though I hear syphilis is all the rage in retirement communities thanks to viagra."

So if this wasn't about sleeping with him then it's probably about getting access to his work. Except Tony hasn't done anything of note since he arrived because he's finally found the freedom to put health before everything else. Maybe he can string him along a bit more to see how long it'll take him to notice.

"I resent the implication that I don't." He mock-huffs as if offended. "Don't worry, I may sleep around, but I'm clean."

Despite what it looks like, Tony's neither for or against the idea of it which is possibly the odder reaction.

Pierce actually wasn't particularly interested in Tony's work, but he was interested in his know-how. He also figured that Stark would be entertaining to speak with, as this conversation had already made clear. Someone who was off-the-cuff in almost every way.

"And I see this new fashion trend you're setting is all the rave with the men and women you're courting for bedding. It surely must take them twenty minutes to find the you under it all," he replied, looking over the layers that Tony was wearing. There was a story to that, but he wasn't about to ask overtly.

"No, I offer a cup of coffee or tea just to talk. I was hoping to have your opinion on the technology that brought us here."

Tony tutted. "Never underestimate my ability to remove clothing. I'm cold, not an invalid."

He glanced over to where the fight was still going on. Unfortunately it didn't look like it was going to finish any time soon nor did it look like anyone was going to rip a shirt.

"I'll take the coffee now since it doesn't look like it'll get more exciting, but I'll give you the answer now. I haven't done much thinking because I've been trying to avoid sobriety."

"In your current state of dress, I'm curious as to your record for removal." And no, he wasn't asking for any kind of show and tell. Just tell would be fine by him. It was easier to keep that line of conversation going anyway.

He glanced at the competitors and nodded, gesturing for the easiest path to make it through the small crowd of people watching. "Ah, well, are you certain you want a coffee then?" It was a shame such a brilliant mind was waning in the depths of alcoholism. "Does that mean you have no reason to think about it because you're content with your existence here?" He wouldn't call it living if Tony was just moving from one alcoholic stupor to another.

If they were indoors with heating Tony would have absolutely given a demonstration so it's a real shame Pierce doesn't get to see Tony naked.

"It'll be an Irish coffee." He bursts out laughing at the last question. "I'm taking time for myself instead of constantly lurching towards the next world threat.

It was more accurate to say he was moving from one alcoholic stupor to another before he arrived in Riverview. At least now he was trying to take steps to getting better.

Pierce wasn't at all bothered or shamed by nudity. He also wasn't particularly interested in it either; he had many other matters that took priority and in his line of work, people naked was just a hazard at times. Besides, there was likely enough content on the internet of Stark naked anyway.

"I don't believe anyone would be surprised," he replied.

Oh, was that what was happening? This place must have felt like quite the vacation then. "Everyone needs some time for themselves. Constant threats against the end of mankind as we know would get very tiring, but, I'm not sure about your world, but ours has a media that prioritizes inflicting fear. This place doesn't seem to have that."

Hah. If only fear mongering was the worst of it. Tony would absolutely take the media taking things out of proportion to how things were in his world.

"Being the shadow of a once great civilisation probably does put things into perspective." He spares one final glance at the sparring to confirm that nope, there's been no nipple slip or tearing of shirts. "Well, shall we?"

Tony had a point, though Pierce was curious as to why so many were gradually needed to repopulate. That would come with some midnight reading, of course. The library had plenty of books on the history of the planet and the associated moons. There had to be something worth using.

He tucked his hands casually into his pockets and nodded. "We shall, yes. Do you have a favourite place for your Irish coffee?"

Steve sparring with an Asgardian? This he had to see. He'd probably worry more if Steve wasn't basically asking to possibly get his ass handed to him. Asgardians have a lot of advantages, both physical and due to the fact that they've had centuries longer to train and get experience.

So Bucky can be found at the sidelines watching to see how this turns out, occasionally calling out something encouraging like, "Walk it off, Steve!"

Pierce was also here to see the good show, but his was more to see with his own eyes the rather different version of Steve Rogers, one more closely attuned to those of comics produced after the Second Great War. He had verified what he could on the network, combing back where he could on open posts. sg.rogers going with that face was plain enough.

And when he walked by Jim Barnes calling to walk it off, his own verification was also in place. jb.barnes, was it? What good Steve Rogers didn't have a Bucky Barnes? More than that, he didn't know, but he could at least admit where the threats lay.

He eased through to find a better place to watch, intent on the combat. Who wouldn't enjoy HYDRA's greatest threat beaten up, especially by such a fierce and skilled warrior?

He hadn't expected to catch sight of Pierce's face in the crowd. He doesn't approach Bucky and Bucky doesn't approach him, but he's constantly aware of his surroundings in a way only a highly trained operative can be; he would be hard-pressed to miss him, when Pierce isn't exactly trying to hide. This isn't exactly unexpected. 'Jim Barnes' is a thin alias, and he knows it. Knew it at the time, even. His full name is on record somewhere at City Hall with his arrival date, he never expected to stay incognito.

Besides, he's standing his ground. He makes eye contact briefly, across the lingering hecklers, his expression and body language (shoulders straight, head high, no trace of the stony submission of the Winter Soldier) almost a dare. Come and get me.

When their eyes actually met, Pierce tipped his head with a smile of acknowledgement, out of complete politeness. They had met before, and it would be rude to be giving anyone slight publicly. It was clear they were both here to enjoy the combat happening though, so he kept his own ground, and he read the unspoken meaning in that stance.

His smile was warm and welcoming all the same, but his eyes flicked to Steve fighting the Asgardian. It was brief as his eyes returned but perhaps the message would be clear to one as astute as the Winter Soldier: I go through him.

Steve had gotten used to the sparring in Quarantine, which, while different from the options he had back in his world, was pretty similar. But without the constant threat of death machines going haywire and intergalactic conquerors, he'd been feeling a slight loss, like the push wasn't as much as he could be. So he was actually fine with volunteering for the match, even though he could tell even before they started that Sif was in a mood and he was essentially inviting to be her target for a few hours. Maybe that's what he needed too.

"I can take it," he answered. "Are you worried?"

He admittedly didn't know entirely what he was getting himself into, but that wasn't so strange for Steve. And he had some experience with Asgardians thanks to their own Thor, so he imagined that it couldn't be that far off. Just in case, he'd brought along the shield, not sure how rough Sif usually took her sparring, but left it to the side near Bucky. He opted for the SHIELD uniform, which would provide better protection, and that would just have to be good enough. It was probably comical to see them facing off, but Steve was well aware he would need more covering than she would.

"Ready."

And if she didn't start, he would, charging when she gave him an opening to try to get inside her guard.

She had considered sparring with weapons, but with the mood she was in it seemed wiser to not have too many sharp edges involved. Not that her self-control was so lacking that she could not avoid causing harm, but the less she needed to hold back today the better.

When Steve charged, his speed was great enough that it was not an easy feet to avoid him, but she did manage to slide out of the way, aiming to grab him and use his momentum to throw him through the air.

The likelihood of Steve coming out of the match with injuries was already high enough without weapons, but he wasn't bothered by the odds. He would have accepted the challenge with weapons if Sif had offered. As it was, he didn't hesitate, and as Sif managed to grab and throw him, Steve hit the ground and slid, catching himself on the ground like a cat, digging his heels in to stop. He grinned and ran back for another lunge, this time feinting and pulling back at the last minute so he could try punching her and dodge back from another grab.

She took a punch to the jaw, but it didn't didn't really slow her down much, so Steve would pay for that with an attempt at a punch right to his guts in return.

Steve grunted as the air was forced out of him, the impact throwing him back and leaving him momentarily staggered, struggling to regain his breath. He charged right back, refusing to let even that hard impact stop him completely, taking a few more swings as he attempted to knock her back.

She took a few steps back, body twisting and turning to avoid most of his blows before she put an arm up to block a final one, gritting her teeth at the impact. He was strong, which was good. It was what she needed at the moment.

Next, she would attempt to grab the arm he had swung at her with and turn to heave him over her shoulder and slam him back down on the ground again.

She dodged his swings one after the other with that steady control of a seasoned fighter, making his efforts go with a whip of air and a hard breath. But finally she takes the last one. He sees her raise her arm and choose to hold fast, and he throws his weight behind the attack, meeting her strength with his so they are pushing against each other. She's solid muscle and Steve grins, enjoying the impact that he feels ripple back through his arm and down his spine. He'll feel it for a while.

As she adjusted her grip on him, he braced himself, pulling back so there was added weight when Sif hoisted him up and made to throw him over her shoulder. As she heaved him back, he twists his body, trying to catch himself so he lands on his feet and not on his shoulder. It's an awkward position, but better than taking another slam against the floor.

"Not bad."

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(open) Be careful what you wish for

for those who are here to watch the show

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another heckler

No need to reply :) Just letting him confirm things IC

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