Alexa sat there for a long, eerily still and silent moment, but though her body didn't move her mind raced. Each of his words slipped their way into the avenues of her brain as she processed them. For a moment, from Alexa's perspective, time froze.
How long had she been chasing his approval? Forever, it seemed, even before she had known that Tony Stark was her father and not just the billionaire genius Iron Man. How many letters had she slipped into the mail as a kid, address to him at Stark Industries? They had all been filed with childish sketches of ideas she'd had for various forms of tech. Bethany had been furious when she'd busted her for that. And then...she'd met him. And knew that he was her father. Her dad. Love me, she'd thought. Be happy I exist. Accept me. Be proud of me. Everything she did in a lab or in the shop from that instant forward had one primary goal, spoken or unspoken: to earn approval from Tony Stark. (Secondary goals of "be cool" and "do awesome shit" were pretty big, too.) She thought that, with this, she would get close.
She had been wrong.
Her brown eyes closed a moment, she breathed deeply, and then opened them again.
"You are all ego, Mr. Stark. You didn't invent the concept of armor."
She got up, slowly, picked up a the reassembled phone and used the tip of her soldering iron to smash its glass face before sweeping the device into a trash bin.
"The device only pinged as Stark Tech because I used surplus sheet vibranium for the body and two nano circuits you let me have because sourcing the vibranium is a little difficult to get in such a small quantity and the nano circuits were part of a power test to see if the circuit I created operated at different capacity. The receptors in my fingertips, the operating system, the individual folding latches that snaps the sheeting into place, even the type of wire are all creations of my invention. You can look at the plans at your leisure."
She dropped a notebook into the trash can, pulled the bag out, tied it in a knot, and sat it at his feet.
"I made the parental assumption that one would their daughter to have some sort of protection in a world where she faces legitimate threat from extra terrestrials, demons, the occasional cross-dimensional psycho, and run of the mill villain. I thought a lightweight armor might be a good idea. Next time I will opt for Kevlar. Enjoy your baby."
She sat back down, her voice having never once raised, spread her hand out on the table, and started looking for the receptors she had imbedded in her fingertips.
no subject
How long had she been chasing his approval? Forever, it seemed, even before she had known that Tony Stark was her father and not just the billionaire genius Iron Man. How many letters had she slipped into the mail as a kid, address to him at Stark Industries? They had all been filed with childish sketches of ideas she'd had for various forms of tech. Bethany had been furious when she'd busted her for that. And then...she'd met him. And knew that he was her father. Her dad. Love me, she'd thought. Be happy I exist. Accept me. Be proud of me. Everything she did in a lab or in the shop from that instant forward had one primary goal, spoken or unspoken: to earn approval from Tony Stark. (Secondary goals of "be cool" and "do awesome shit" were pretty big, too.) She thought that, with this, she would get close.
She had been wrong.
Her brown eyes closed a moment, she breathed deeply, and then opened them again.
"You are all ego, Mr. Stark. You didn't invent the concept of armor."
She got up, slowly, picked up a the reassembled phone and used the tip of her soldering iron to smash its glass face before sweeping the device into a trash bin.
"The device only pinged as Stark Tech because I used surplus sheet vibranium for the body and two nano circuits you let me have because sourcing the vibranium is a little difficult to get in such a small quantity and the nano circuits were part of a power test to see if the circuit I created operated at different capacity. The receptors in my fingertips, the operating system, the individual folding latches that snaps the sheeting into place, even the type of wire are all creations of my invention. You can look at the plans at your leisure."
She dropped a notebook into the trash can, pulled the bag out, tied it in a knot, and sat it at his feet.
"I made the parental assumption that one would their daughter to have some sort of protection in a world where she faces legitimate threat from extra terrestrials, demons, the occasional cross-dimensional psycho, and run of the mill villain. I thought a lightweight armor might be a good idea. Next time I will opt for Kevlar. Enjoy your baby."
She sat back down, her voice having never once raised, spread her hand out on the table, and started looking for the receptors she had imbedded in her fingertips.