Also kinda melodramatic. Are you quoting Taylor Swift at me? [Tony says, not particularly unkindly, for Tony Stark. His eyebrows go up.
His eyes are incandescent now, and her skin is shining, like someone ran her through Photoshop. Soft-focus, diffuse glow. There's a small sun radiating out of her chest and the distant motes of JARVIS' code have the slow spin of stars, as if she is the heart of this particular solar system. Somehow it still isn't hard to tell that he's looking at her. One presumes that he can see her well enough; her bitterness and her unhappiness. She can almost feel the couch under her elbows and the patchy fabric seat holding up her legs, at odds with the slow-deconstructing visual of the minimalistic code room, with its walkway, its limitless darkness.]
Typhoon? [he says, pragmatic about his lack of sympathy, if nothing else.] Tsunami? I'm not being racist. Inferno. Plague sounds dicey. [He snaps his fingers.]
Earthquake-- [but that doesn't sound quite right either, does it?]
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His eyes are incandescent now, and her skin is shining, like someone ran her through Photoshop. Soft-focus, diffuse glow. There's a small sun radiating out of her chest and the distant motes of JARVIS' code have the slow spin of stars, as if she is the heart of this particular solar system. Somehow it still isn't hard to tell that he's looking at her. One presumes that he can see her well enough; her bitterness and her unhappiness. She can almost feel the couch under her elbows and the patchy fabric seat holding up her legs, at odds with the slow-deconstructing visual of the minimalistic code room, with its walkway, its limitless darkness.]
Typhoon? [he says, pragmatic about his lack of sympathy, if nothing else.] Tsunami? I'm not being racist. Inferno. Plague sounds dicey. [He snaps his fingers.]
Earthquake-- [but that doesn't sound quite right either, does it?]