“Flirtation, oh my dear, Emma. What would give you that idea?” He whispered flirtatiously, biting his lip and winking as he examined Emma from head to toe, his eyes catching on her leg where it peeked out from beneath the skirt of her dress. For a moment his mind was caught on her bare skin, like an invisible and was holding his head in place forcing him to look at her leg and imagine his fingers dotting along it.
“I apologise, i was preoccupied, that is, my mind was focused upon you” He turns away, reaching down to the side of his chair where a bottle of wine and empty glass sit. Roderick pours the drink, watching the wine fill the glass to the half way point and then passing it towards Emma. “Spare no expense, Emma, I am paying. My treat to you, my treat for a real woman” he chuckles, shaking his head smugly.
He looked away, watching the audience below as the curtain opened for the show to start, and the narrator walked out to introduce the opera.
Sighing, Roderick turned to Emma again. “I’ve seen this show over a dozen times, you?”
“Well, for starters, there is that secretive and charming voice of yours…” Her tone, honeyed and seductive, had an undeniably bored undertone to it. Roderick almost stared seconds too long, and the blonde was about to comment on the fact her head was further up as he apologized. She grinned dryly at the compliment, laying back against the luxurious seat in a posture of confidence as she took the wine. Pulling the glass towards her face, the blonde quickly smelled the aromas before taking a tentative sip.
“Bordeaux - A quite enlightened choice. Keep it up and I might almost forget we are business partners, darling. Besides, I do not need to be compared to other women to know my worth.” She waved it off, focusing on the stage and the crowd below. His remark caught her interest and blue eyes shifted quickly back onto him. She purposely crossed her legs in his direction, but would probably never admit to this. “I have seen it before as well, though I can very well assure you you have not been seeing it with me, Mr. Kingsley.” She grinned for a few seconds, then her eyes were back on the crowd, back arching slightly forward to give her a better view. She shot a quick glance at Roderick before focusing again on those down below. “Take your pick, darling. I am feeling immensely nosy tonight.”
“Charming hmm, thankyou” secretive, if only she knew exactly what he was hiding she might not be so happy to sit with him tonight. Her tone did little to hide her boredom he put it down to the compliments and the stares. Emma would without a doubt have been greeted with such statements many times before and grown tired of them, Roderick shot her a smile and short apology. “I’m sorry, you must be tired of compliments”
“It was the most expensive wine they had and I thought I would need such to impress you. What would be so wrong about forgetting our business relationship, even if it is just for one night. You are a wonderful example of how people can, and should, be Emma, I do not need to compare you to others to do so”
He grinned with her, his intent expressed in how he leant forward to speak to her lowering his voice as if their conversation was something sordid. “And how might it be different with you?”
“The woman at the end of the third row, the one with the young man on her arm, what can you tell me about her?”
He is used to woman touching and tugging and watching attention, so much attention. But usually it’s something he endures. With Mister Kingsley watching on, jealous, it suddenly feels like before. When he soaked up the need for attention they all showed his way. Just a little bit.
“You should.” He accepts, not feeling the need to cushion his words any. He hadn’t lost a thought over this guy, but he knew that it still bothered Kurt, sometimes. It had been a mash-up of confused and repulsed and giddy, that night. He had no idea what had been when, he just remembered very clearly that Kurt had punched him square in the face.
The phrase “reeking of bad thoughts” in Kurt’s endearing accent somehow latched onto this face, too. Which is why he’s calling him Bad Touch in his mind, just to cheer himself up a little.
Which he should find upsetting. But later.
”I see your nose healed up straight. Or was that plastic surgery?”
“Not to worry I am sure that there will be many others who would show me such affection” he nods in the direction of a crowd indicating those within. “How many do you think are just here to get their hands in a billionaires pants and then their wallet of course”
How many twenties would he have to slip a stripper or some gold digger for the same sort of attention, a few twenties, maybe a hundred a few grand if he wanted to go to an up-market club. That was the rest of the night planned. Getting Stark drunk again to come along for some fun might not be the best idea, Roderick didn’t want another punch to the face from whatever Stark’s flavour of the month was.
“Healed like this” refusing to look at Stark, he answered while taking a drink. How shameful to be attacked by some ‘Friend’ of this over-confident party-boy.
“I don’t go stay down so easily. I have learnt to stay away from a spat though, what ever type it may be. Between friends … or perhaps more”
Did Stark really think it was that well hidden? no one was that protective over a drunken friend, they didn’t act like that. Stark meant something to the attacker, that was obvious and for Roderick, so easy to mock.
Tony keeps his grin straight and doesn’t add that sometimes you don’t even want that kind of attention. But less famous people didn’t understand the social pressure. They only got jealous or pitying or even hateful envious and called the press to tell lies.
“You should know when to pick your fights. I do employ bodyguards for a reason.”
Of which he had two in the hall, and only one he could spot who had his eyes always on him. He should probably allow him to come closer again, Happy always reminds him anxiously that a bodyguard won’t do him any good, if he has to run to get to him first.
But he doesn’t like to have security so closely to him. Which is why he deposited one guy at the entrance, to keep an eye on things.
“And yes, I have some very powerful friends. Haven’t you seen TV lately?”
“I’m not trying to pick a fight, Stark, I’m trying to make polite conversation I thought that you might be kinder to someone who has stock in your company even if those stocks did come to him after certain ..unfortunate.. events”
Body guards, a useless expense when you had the strength to crush someone’s skull under your foot with ease, he wondered how easy it would be to crush Stark’s, or how fast it would take him to get a hand on one of his suits and fight back.
“I thought after that drink we shared that you might consider me as some sort of acquaintance, your friend obviously would not. If you see him again remind him that he owes me an apology he can send it in by letter if he would prefer to not accept his wrong doing to my face”
He ignores the question, everybody had seen the news everyone knew who Stark was and who he had connections to.
Of course she expected the crowd, but the coins was a new deal. Since she didn’t have her usual copper bowl out for coins whenever she performed. It was rather spontaneous and more of a test of her skills. She still had it, but rarely did that kind of thing since she was now alone.
Standing up, Ashe started to collect the coins and place them into the folds of her red tunic. Not bad for the acrobatics. Maybe she should do that more often. The young thief paused in gathering the coins when someone just decided to drop some into her open hands. Looking up, she was intrigued by the man. Judging by the clothes he was wearing, he’s a captain. But of what? Her lips split into a smile before bowing, mostly out of custom from her home country.
“G’morning, sir. I did not know this old flag pole was part of your ship” She said as her mind started going over the ways she could take more coins from him, but had to stop there. Would be bad if he was one of those military types. “Forgive me if I have done wrong…But I’m sure you enjoyed the show”
“No, no it’s fine. I simply wanted to make sure” Roderick didn’t mind what she was doing his crew did though, bringing too much attention to the ship could mean SHIELD attention. It wouldn’t bode well for the crew if it was found out that they were using a missing military vessel.
“I enjoyed it very much, I’m sure my crew did too” Roderick turns to indicate his crew who had gathered behind him. “May I ask you your name young miss, I was wondering if I could make use of your talents”
Turning, Roderick issues an order to his crew. “Make sure all my repairs are finished by nightfall, I wish to leave soon” They do as told dispersing throughout the harbour in need of tools and materials. Roderick on the other hand reached out to Ashe. “Perhaps we can discuss it over a tour of the harbour and a drink, a meal if you desire it as well. My gift to you if you’re willing to offer this captain some company”
Of course just as he was about to feel halfway comfortable, the hall had to spit this man out at him. Or rather the ugly hag’s daughter dragged him along.
He gives the daughter a kiss when she offers him her cheek, maintaining his carefree attitude. “Clara, you look wonderful, like always.”
Hopefully this will make her mother spent some dollars on sugar cookies. (Not to be hateful but she does look like she likes them.)
Then he turns to her dragalong, that’s all to familiar to him. Never one to show how much it bothered him, he kept his grin and - unafraid - grabbed the outstretched hand for a shake. If he squeezed just a tad harder than normally, no one should be able to tell.
“I’m sure it is, Mister …” He trails off on purpose, making him fill in his own name. Of course he hasn’t forgotten, but this was deliberate. He seemed like the man to preen if one remembers their name. Someone very proud of himself.
“Mister Kingsley, Stark” He tries not to bite, hiding his offence well. Of course Stark remembered, Kingsley wasn’t blind or stupid he knew when people were playing games with him.
The wife and daughter pair quickly fall into their own conversation after they had finished fawning over Stark, even coming close to petting him at more than one point, Roderick, on the other hand was left to watch them choose favourite.
“Seems they know what they like, Stark,” he laughs to hide the anger that bubbled under his tongue, hot poison ready to be released in a violent rant once he was alone, how dare they fawn over Stark and not him.
“I should feel left out”
He is used to woman touching and tugging and watching attention, so much attention. But usually it’s something he endures. With Mister Kingsley watching on, jealous, it suddenly feels like before. When he soaked up the need for attention they all showed his way. Just a little bit.
“You should.” He accepts, not feeling the need to cushion his words any. He hadn’t lost a thought over this guy, but he knew that it still bothered Kurt, sometimes. It had been a mash-up of confused and repulsed and giddy, that night. He had no idea what had been when, he just remembered very clearly that Kurt had punched him square in the face.
The phrase “reeking of bad thoughts” in Kurt’s endearing accent somehow latched onto this face, too. Which is why he’s calling him Bad Touch in his mind, just to cheer himself up a little.
Which he should find upsetting. But later.
”I see your nose healed up straight. Or was that plastic surgery?”
“Not to worry I am sure that there will be many others who would show me such affection” he nods in the direction of a crowd indicating those within. “How many do you think are just here to get their hands in a billionaires pants and then their wallet of course”
How many twenties would he have to slip a stripper or some gold digger for the same sort of attention, a few twenties, maybe a hundred a few grand if he wanted to go to an up-market club. That was the rest of the night planned. Getting Stark drunk again to come along for some fun might not be the best idea, Roderick didn’t want another punch to the face from whatever Stark’s flavour of the month was.
“Healed like this” refusing to look at Stark, he answered while taking a drink. How shameful to be attacked by some ‘Friend’ of this over-confident party-boy.
“I don’t go stay down so easily. I have learnt to stay away from a spat though, what ever type it may be. Between friends … or perhaps more”
Did Stark really think it was that well hidden? no one was that protective over a drunken friend, they didn’t act like that. Stark meant something to the attacker, that was obvious and for Roderick, so easy to mock.
He’s having a party and the mood dropped 60 hours ago. It’s a fundraiser just so he actually doesn’t need to spend quite as much money on little girls and their sugar cookies equaling self-esteem (that shouldn’t be his burden anyway) but rather more free finished prototypes of the water purifier that’s just run through the patents.
He refused to drag along anyone, not even Kurt. He will just be bad company today to anyone he’s bringing along. The energy he needs for false cheer and a believing smile doesn’t even leave a drop over for genuine friendly conversation.
Also he’d be a little too distracted to actually work for promised donations - not that he’s doing a much better job right now, being trapped in a conversatio with a rich man’s wife (more dolled up and fake than a porcelan doll) that he knows will not spent one dollar for charity. She just wants into his pants - and he’s cringing inside just thinking about it.
And the dinosigner didn’t even come, which he can’t feel but be disappointed about, since her beautiful suit is the reason he’s even here. He should have just paid someone he knows sews bad. That would have been better.
Another fundraiser that Roderick would have preffered not to be at. Still, it was always important to keep his public image clean and charity work would definitely help in that effort. Though even with the fresh polish it would give the public perception of him, Roderick still hated children even being close to the snivelling flesh bags made him cringe. Such filthy creatures.
Ms. White had long sine left him to the mercy of a governors daughter, one who was particularly caked in his cosmetics, much more so than the average customer. She managed to spend the first twenty minutes of their ‘conversation’ (if one could call something so one sided a conversation) telling him how she had had her father buy her every piece of Kingsley’s new gown range to then settle on the crimson silk dress, a simple yet elegant piece.
“Oh oh you must meet my mother she loves your work, why she is wearing your entire summer cosmetics range right now”
Roderick had barely been listening, his train of thought (which included counting how many ways objects there were in the room which he could use to cut out the woman’s tongue) was interrupted by the sudden yanking motion that pulled him from his position, slouching against the wall, over to a much older, much less attractive woman who had managed to find herself in the company of one of the fundraisers guests of honour. Tony Stark.
A hollow chuckle escaped Roderick’s lips, he appreciated the irony of meeting the only important guest when he had expected to meet yet another rich fool. Stark may be rich but he was definitely no fool he also had dangerous company, Kingsley’s jaw knew that all too well.
“Mr Stark” kind, welcoming, an all too familiar façade that Roderick was forced to play. “Pleasure to meet you again” he extended a hand to Stark, half expecting him to bat it away.
Of course just as he was about to feel halfway comfortable, the hall had to spit this man out at him. Or rather the ugly hag’s daughter dragged him along.
He gives the daughter a kiss when she offers him her cheek, maintaining his carefree attitude. “Clara, you look wonderful, like always.”
Hopefully this will make her mother spent some dollars on sugar cookies. (Not to be hateful but she does look like she likes them.)
Then he turns to her dragalong, that’s all to familiar to him. Never one to show how much it bothered him, he kept his grin and - unafraid - grabbed the outstretched hand for a shake. If he squeezed just a tad harder than normally, no one should be able to tell.
“I’m sure it is, Mister …” He trails off on purpose, making him fill in his own name. Of course he hasn’t forgotten, but this was deliberate. He seemed like the man to preen if one remembers their name. Someone very proud of himself.
“Mister Kingsley, Stark” He tries not to bite, hiding his offence well. Of course Stark remembered, Kingsley wasn’t blind or stupid he knew when people were playing games with him.
The wife and daughter pair quickly fall into their own conversation after they had finished fawning over Stark, even coming close to petting him at more than one point, Roderick, on the other hand was left to watch them choose favourite.
“Seems they know what they like, Stark,” he laughs to hide the anger that bubbled under his tongue, hot poison ready to be released in a violent rant once he was alone, how dare they fawn over Stark and not him.
“I should feel left out”
He’s having a party and the mood dropped 60 hours ago. It’s a fundraiser just so he actually doesn’t need to spend quite as much money on little girls and their sugar cookies equaling self-esteem (that shouldn’t be his burden anyway) but rather more free finished prototypes of the water purifier that’s just run through the patents.
He refused to drag along anyone, not even Kurt. He will just be bad company today to anyone he’s bringing along. The energy he needs for false cheer and a believing smile doesn’t even leave a drop over for genuine friendly conversation.
Also he’d be a little too distracted to actually work for promised donations - not that he’s doing a much better job right now, being trapped in a conversatio with a rich man’s wife (more dolled up and fake than a porcelan doll) that he knows will not spent one dollar for charity. She just wants into his pants - and he’s cringing inside just thinking about it.
And the dinosigner didn’t even come, which he can’t feel but be disappointed about, since her beautiful suit is the reason he’s even here. He should have just paid someone he knows sews bad. That would have been better.
Another fundraiser that Roderick would have preffered not to be at. Still, it was always important to keep his public image clean and charity work would definitely help in that effort. Though even with the fresh polish it would give the public perception of him, Roderick still hated children even being close to the snivelling flesh bags made him cringe. Such filthy creatures.
Ms. White had long sine left him to the mercy of a governors daughter, one who was particularly caked in his cosmetics, much more so than the average customer. She managed to spend the first twenty minutes of their ‘conversation’ (if one could call something so one sided a conversation) telling him how she had had her father buy her every piece of Kingsley’s new gown range to then settle on the crimson silk dress, a simple yet elegant piece.
“Oh oh you must meet my mother she loves your work, why she is wearing your entire summer cosmetics range right now”
Roderick had barely been listening, his train of thought (which included counting how many ways objects there were in the room which he could use to cut out the woman’s tongue) was interrupted by the sudden yanking motion that pulled him from his position, slouching against the wall, over to a much older, much less attractive woman who had managed to find herself in the company of one of the fundraisers guests of honour. Tony Stark.
A hollow chuckle escaped Roderick’s lips, he appreciated the irony of meeting the only important guest when he had expected to meet yet another rich fool. Stark may be rich but he was definitely no fool he also had dangerous company, Kingsley’s jaw knew that all too well.
“Mr Stark” kind, welcoming, an all too familiar façade that Roderick was forced to play. “Pleasure to meet you again” he extended a hand to Stark, half expecting him to bat it away.
