"What you're interested in, but I think I have the basic picture."
It's easy to be friendly at people you think are idiots, but Wayne is largely inoffensive; throws nice parties, is affably charming (in Tony's admittedly narrow definition of what that means), shares some things in common. Even if he retires to being a glitzy socialite, it doesn't mean there isn't potential; Wayne Enterprises is an old juggernaut of a company planted in one of the most morally bankrupt places in the world. And this is interesting.
So they should talk more!, is what Tony thinks, maybe at a venue with quieter music and less tits (but still some of both of those). Maybe even when he gets back from Afghanistan.
Someone is in his lap, abruptly, one of the Malibus he brought with him, stealing his glass of liquor, replacing it with a bottle of vodka.
"Great, one and a half litres of waking up naked on a traffic island, count me-- oops, going down." This, in response to the lady gamely knocking back the rest of his whiskey, tilting too far back and promptly levering herself floorwards with a kick of long leg. Valiant attempt to stop drags Tony down with her, promptly disappeared from Bruce's periphery with a crash and clatter, a delicate tinkle of shattered glass.
He barks a dry laugh, shorter and quieter than her trilling cackle. "Clean up on aisle four."
no subject
It's easy to be friendly at people you think are idiots, but Wayne is largely inoffensive; throws nice parties, is affably charming (in Tony's admittedly narrow definition of what that means), shares some things in common. Even if he retires to being a glitzy socialite, it doesn't mean there isn't potential; Wayne Enterprises is an old juggernaut of a company planted in one of the most morally bankrupt places in the world. And this is interesting.
So they should talk more!, is what Tony thinks, maybe at a venue with quieter music and less tits (but still some of both of those). Maybe even when he gets back from Afghanistan.
Someone is in his lap, abruptly, one of the Malibus he brought with him, stealing his glass of liquor, replacing it with a bottle of vodka.
"Great, one and a half litres of waking up naked on a traffic island, count me-- oops, going down." This, in response to the lady gamely knocking back the rest of his whiskey, tilting too far back and promptly levering herself floorwards with a kick of long leg. Valiant attempt to stop drags Tony down with her, promptly disappeared from Bruce's periphery with a crash and clatter, a delicate tinkle of shattered glass.
He barks a dry laugh, shorter and quieter than her trilling cackle. "Clean up on aisle four."