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Anything But White Party - Stark Industries, Friday Night

The ballroom was once again set up for guests at Stark Industries, this time with a decidedly colorful theme for it. Where the color white could reasonably be avoided it was avoided: from the decorations to the lighting, to the food and drinks provided for the guests.

Because no one enjoyed a nice theme more than Tony Stark.

Steve strode across the ballroom and stared up at the new Chihuly chandelier installed over the dance floor. "When I suggested we switch out the art, I meant the kids' paintings," he said, pointing to the new, very colorful, pictures that had been blown up from construction paper size to 5 foot tall show-stoppers. "I still think the pictures of Princess Thor riding on the unicorn wins, though."

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"I probably could," Margo allowed, "But fuck, what an ugly way to break a nail."

"If you break a nail fighting a glass monster from the ceiling tonight," Stark said, smiling a little crookedly, "then I will make sure you can have a manicure tomorrow."

After he got out of bed, which was going to be late. And after he made breakfast for his favorite gross ginger lady.

"Honey, that's sweet," Margo told him, "But I have a great manicurist on speed dial." She nodded at him. "So how are you doing?"

"Better," Stark said. "After...after the house. It's...much better, now. Than it was then. And you? How are you?"

"Well I got fucking portalnapped back to Fillory, pushed around by a creepy fucking ghost chick who won't leave my fucking bathtub, and now I'm trying to reverse engineer the whole mess so we can go back home," Margo said. "So I guess my answer has to be 'furious'."

And worried, and scared, but she'd rather throw herself bodily off the top of the school than admit as much aloud. Least of all to Stark, of all people.

"You have a ghost in your bathtub?" Stark asked. "Here, or there? If it's here I could try to talk to it. If that might help? If it's there...I'm sorry. And I'm sorry you still can't go home when you choose to."

Saying she was scared to Stark would only serve to make him concerned and he'd want to help even more than he already did.

"I know the answer is almost certainly no but...is there anything I can do? Even just to make things easier?"

"No, I have a Fairy Queen who's decided to backseat reign from the tub," Margo said, rolling her one eye. "Bitch still has my eye, too."

Stark winced sympathetically. He'd never asked about the eye, of course. He would never.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "Can I get you a drink, at least?"

"Yeah, grab me a cocktail," she said. "Any cocktail."

"I'll be right back," Stark said before walking over to the bar.

He returned not too much later with one of the black and gold cocktails because somehow that seemed the most Margo of the options.

"Hopefully it helps a little," he said, holding it out. "I had one of the mermaid ones. Summer recommended it."

"Thanks," Margo said, and took it. "I'm surprised she didn't just drown you in jello shots. Seems to be more her thing."

"She likes making other drinks," Stark explained. "She likes making the jello, too, but she likes getting to mix things when she's bartending. I had plenty of jello on Wednesday. I always do. I don't miss Wednesdays if I can help it."

Like, say, when he'd been kidnapped by a house.

"I told her I'd buy her one of the mermaid ones, later. But she said not until she has a break. And then we can dance..."

"Yeah, yeah, I don't need the details," Margo said, holding up a hand. "I get it, she's your girlfriend or whatever." She took a sip of the drink. "Thanks. I feel like I need to drink to fuckin' Eliot levels or I'll burn the island down."

"Please don't burn the island down. I like it here."

Stark could think of a building he wouldn't miss all that much but he was fairly sure other people would.

"I've...I've tried smoking, a few times. It works better, I think, for trying to relax."

"I don't actually want to relax," Margo shared. "If I did, I'd probably be fucking better at it, though thanks, now I have a bad hankering for a cigar."

Fancy cigars seemed a like a thing Tony Stark might have on hand, somewhere, in this ridiculously oversized apartment.

"Wouldn't it help you not want to burn the whole island down if you could relax a little?" Stark asked. "Or do you want to want to because it keeps you...motivated? Focused?"

Margo eyed him with like... her one eye. "Yeah, so here's a lesson about people," she said, "We don't make sense most of the time. We just tell ourselves we do."

She'd answer his actual question in a moment, probably.

Stark shrugged a little.

"No one makes sense all the time. I know I don't."

Margo considered bringing up the Summer thing in response to that one, but decided that fell under YKINMK. "I don't want to have to set the island on fire," she said, "But I also don't want to relax and let that bitch off the hook."

He'd fallen in love. When did that ever make sense, Margo?

"I wish I could help," Stark said quietly. "With any of it. I'm sorry."

Yeah, Margo didn't really get the 'love' thing. But she kind of didn't about everyone. Whatever The Assistant thing Stark had going on with Summer, on the other hand-- well, she liked him, she wanted him to be happy, he'd shut up about it when asked, so she was making an active effort to leave it alone.

"It's fine," she rasped. "We can't even help ourselves. Maybe the island is just trying to save us from having to face just how incompetent we are."

Edited 2023-09-18 08:05 (UTC)

"Or maybe the island is just trying to make your life harder. Or maybe your home is?"

If Fandom could do it then why couldn't Fillory? And Fillory was definitely more mean-spirited. Wasn't it?

"Or maybe they're fighting. Your home and here."

"You're a real optimist, you know that, right, Stark?" Margo sighed.

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Anything But White Party - Stark Industries, Friday Night

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