Hi, here is my beginning of history, which I hope will please the greatest number of you! Small indication: English is not my native language so there are probably small errors or misunderstandings, I apologize in advance. Do not hesitate to tell me what you think and see you next time!
She said she was going to have a drink. Not that she would drink only one. The nuance was there, subtle and dangerous, like her. Although '' subtle '' was perhaps not the adjective that would best qualify her ... Pretentious glued better, or proud, to the choice. Arrogante was going too, just as desperate. Because that, yes she was. Antonia Stark, billionaire philanthropist genius and free as air, was absolutely, resolutely, undeniably desperate.
Reason why she was there, sitting in this shabby bar at the end of the city (slump probably would be better) with the firm intention to get drunk as ever to obliterate the time of an evening all the weight that rested on his shoulders. Hood folded over her head, dressed in the simplest way possible, she did not fear to be recognized. Finally, less than before, when she had not swallowed 3 (6?) Glasses of bourbons, and she still had the opportunity to rely on his reason (already potentially nonexistent).
Yes because being desperate does not stop her from maintaining her image! She was Toni Stark shit! No question that a photo of her drunk and alone does not circulate on the internet (even if photos of this kind should already exist in view of her party history), and even if JARVIS would probably not put long before the to erase. The raptors who served as journalists in New York would not train before seizing the news to make it a media scandal (very bad quality it must be admitted). In the past, Toni did not care what people could think of her, having gone so far as to chain scandals just to see her picture on the front page. But it was before, and here it is now. Now she's harboring a group of '' superheroes '' as stamped as she (she still held the medal to this day), and she had to be more careful, because, willy-nilly, she was part of that group .
And what kind of hero is seen drunk-dead? The kind she was not, the kind that cares little about the safety and well-being of citizens. Toni cared about civilians, more than the god from another world, the russian russian spy, the martyred assassin or the perfect soldier stuck in the 40s. Bruce cared as much about it as she did. He had gone as far as possible to avoid being a threat, but he had been brought back, and he still had a hard time feeling comfortable in the tower, in the middle of this big city and its inhabitants, what Toni could understand. She cared for people, innocent people. They were the reason she started making weapons, and that was the same reason why she stopped producing years later. She wanted these people, whose protection was her priority, to be confident that they could believe that this little sick club was watching over them. No question then that the whole world has knowledge of her moods, and no question either to drink at the tower, where the entire team could serve her this look of moralistic pseudo-concerned marked by obvious disappointment. Even her lab was not sure, what guarantee did she have that JARVIS would not stop her drinking as she wanted? Her AI was designed to obey her orders, but also to ensure her well-being, and not sure that artificial intelligence agrees with her on what is good or not for her.
That's why she, Toni Stark, the most pretentious, proud and arrogant woman of that time, and probably one of the most intelligent (if not the most intelligent), was there, moping on her fate. A fate that, far from being enviable, was not all that bad.
She was in good health, her armor was on top, Dumm-E, U and Butterfinger were doing just fine, just like Jarvis, Pepper was in great shape and ready to drag her by the skin of the buttocks to more boring meetings than the others, and Rhodey was currently on a secret commando mission for all except for her since she had hacked into the state system to know everything about the mission in question. The problem did not come from others, it came from her, from her head, from her mind.
There was the problem.
She would never admit it aloud, but she was fucked, totally fucked from the inside. Why ? Because she had spent 3 months in a cave in Afghanistan, came out with an arc reactor screwed into the chest and the death of a recent friend but no less valuable on the conscience. Because after that, she had to face the fact that this kidnapping had been orchestrated by the one she considered at the time as a father, and that this man had later found the death of her hand. Because after all that, she had not been able to trust anyone, let alone after she learned that the Shield had sent Natasha to spy on her in her own company. Because after meeting the hero of her childhood, who was also the demon of her adolescence, she had to rush into a hole in space, to see the nothingness. Because beyond the powerful and impervious armor she had forged, she was self-centered and upright, a woman, a human, too proud to confide her problems, preferring to bury them for a day like this she can bring everything out.
Except that she was having more and more trouble preventing her thoughts from going black, which meant she had enough for tonight. That and the fact that she had to go twice to get up without risking falling. The fresh air made her crazy as the alcohol heated her blood. Toni walked slowly, she had come on foot and was not really near the tower, quite the contrary. And she was not particularly eager to return, although considering the late hour she would not meet anyone before reaching her floor.
Finally, before thinking about how she would avoid her team mates, it might be better to focus on her current mission, namely to come back in one piece. Project whose outcome seemed suddenly less secure as somebody was grabbing her arm to drag her into an alley. She was pressed against a wall violently, her breath cutting for a moment. Toni saw 4 vaguely distinct shapes, men seen their build, but at such a level of drunkenness she did not trust her head so much, so they could very well be more or less than that. The grip on her forearm was still there, strong and threatening, keeping her in place.
«You're alone doll?»
Toni wondered if the guy would take the trouble to vomit on him, the foul breath of the guy does not mix with all the alcohol ingested. She finally reacted when a hand rested on her hip, but had no time to act that already the man was withdrawn from against her and projected on the opposite wall. Her instinct took over and she put her hand on her wrist, searching for an effective defense, and panting when she could not find her watch. It must have fallen, it must have fallen. Toni threw herself on her knees to grope the floor in search of the object, narrowing her eyes to see something in the dark. The unknown-chivalrous-dangerous-and-potentially-enemy-but-it-is-not-sure (she would find a better nickname later) obviously had not the same problem judging the complaints and moans that she heard in the background. A crackle echoed at a moment, followed by a muffled cry, but Toni was too worried to worry about it. This watch was connected to Jarvis, she had deactivated for this evening, a mistake obviously.
She felt pain in her chest, a sign of an impending anxiety attack. Toni had a pause before starting again, with more precipitation this time. The background noises had ceased, now the only sound she could tell was the steps that came in her direction, coupled with her erratic breathing. The cold (too cold) and strong (too strong) grip that came down on her shoulder to squeeze her was the death blow and she poured the contents of her stomach to the ground, ignoring the growl that man let out.
She struggled a lot, moaned a little, or the opposite. Exhausted and the body painfully numb, Toni surrendered, leaving her mind to slip into unconsciousness.