1573/Cheers for Beers!

Cheers for Beers!
Date of Scene:	20 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Molly Millions, Iron Man

---

Molly Millions has posed:
Club Lux. Late at night. The very well to do throng through the place, dancing, chatting, drinking... making deals out of the sight of the common riff-raff. Mostly. Molly? Not one of those sorts.

She has the look of muscle in the gravitas with which she watches the room, but she's not tall, nor broad... and at first flush might easily be mistaken for someone's guest just trying to look like they fit in. The dress is not nearly as Dior as it might want to be, for all that the dark material is well cut and well fitted to the woman who wears it. Offset by her too pale skin and the tracery of tattoos like circuitry along her arms.

But it's the lenses, silver; mistakable at a distance for sunglasses, but to the observant, sealing her eye sockets entirely. The whiskey on the rocks she's nursing is as much window-dressing as the tapered burgundy nails she has. She's the sort of person noticeable, simply for being so forgettable.

Iron Man has posed:
Luxury nightclubs typically demand strict dress codes. But that doesn't apply to some. With most of the patrons dressed in finery, Tony stands out in his dark wash blue jeans, AC/DC t-shirt, and Iron Man glove.

Yeah, sometimes Tony treats the costume as an everyday party trick. Or maybe he expects something to go down. Whatever the reason, he's sitting at the bar with a small entourage listening to him. "And that was when I stopped him from stealing that tech," Tony lifts his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders like what he's accomplished is no big deal.

He turns towards the bartender, "On second thought, A round on me. For the club," his finger spins in a circle to ensure that the bartender knows he intends to purchase liquor for the entire club. Evidently, it's a good night to be out in Manhattan.

It's then that Molly catches Tony's eye for just a moment. She's cast a curious cant of his head, and he slides off the barstool. "Interesting ink," his lips hitch up on one side.

Molly Millions has posed:
Molly Millions's been half-listening to him for a while, though it's hard to tell where she's watching with those lenses. It's the sheer, enviable lack of fancy threads and that glove that can't help but draw her own attention. That she's aware of him probably shows in the lack of surprise when he slides off the barstool.

A quirk of her lips and dip of her head his way to offer back,"Nice glove." her accents tri-state... but... not, somehow, if he has the ear for linguistics. And with free booze on the offing apparently it's a good reason to tip back her current glass with an unladylike gulp.

In the lighting of the club, it might look black, but the color of the ink seems to shift oh so subtly over time, deep purples and brackish green and back again.

Iron Man has posed:
Mention of the glove has Tony lifting his gloved hand and turning it over with a one shouldered shrug and a flippant, "Oh, this old thing? Found it in the closet. Thought it might suit my outfit," a smirk draws across his face. "Verdict? Who wore it better? Me or... well," his eyes turn up towards the ceiling, "me?" He shoots her an easier smile and allows his non-gloved hand to swirl a glass of liquor before bringing it to his lips.

"So, at the risk of sounding cliche," the tone is loaded with Stark snark, "what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He actually smiles at the end. "Doesn't look like your scene. Or I'm wrong and you're all about the designer clothes."

Molly Millions has posed:
The question actually does manage to get a laugh out of Molly, a quiet and low thing as her attention flicks back towards a nearby gathering of some of New Yorks rich and untrustworthy as they're rising from their seats. There's a slight nod from one of the more traditional bruisers watching the gathering, and just the barest inclination of her head in response as the group starts to disperse.

"That one's so old my grandmother heard it." she snorts vaguely, the tilt of her head suggesting she's at least glanced in the direction of his entourage before focusing back on him,"In fairness... it looks even less like your scene. Who are AC/DC?"

Iron Man has posed:
Tony allows the ice cubes to clink against the glass in an ambivalent motion. "This used to be my scene," he answers with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Hasn't been for awhile." He shrugs again. "But the drinks are good. And the bartender is friends with.." his face scrunches, "or is dating(?) my head of security. It's good will." His lips quirk into a lopsided smirk.

He frowns slightly at the thought of someone not knowing AC/DC. "Band. Classic music. Definitely not your grandmother's. Even if the line fell flat." He has a long drink of his brandy.

Molly Millions has posed:
"Got to keep up the good will." Molly agrees with some amusement of her own,"In fairness... I haven't heard it in about a dozen years. That line..." there's a pause from her, because somewhere behind those lenses she's looking up AC/DC on the internet, for all that externally it might look like her attention has drifted off somewhere.

"To answer your question, however... I was providing insurance. One moment."

There's no sign of a microphone on her, but there's the movement of her throat as if she's said something to who knows whom, but finally says,"What's your favorite song by them?"

Iron Man has posed:
"'Highway to Hell' is their crowd-pleaser. 'Shoot to Thrill' though? Yeah, that song is gold." Tony takes another long swig of his drink, polishing off the contents of his glass. He sets it down on a nearby surface and a server in a short miniskirt delivers another to his hand--receiving a wink and a small smile in turn.

"Insurance?" he quirks an eyebrow. "What kind of insurance? Have to say, insurance is mostly overrated." His head waffles back and forth considering the fact. "Expectations for safety that can't be fulfilled. And so many exclusions," his eyes roll. "I let Pepper handle that at Stark Tower. Too annoying to be bothered with it."

Molly Millions has posed:
It's not audible, but somewhere in her skull 'Shoot to Thrill' is selected. She makes a gesture with her glass for another one, not quite so important as to rate someone paying attention to the state of her drink with quite the same precision and gives a slow, toothy smile for the question.

"The peace-keeping kind. Though safety is largely an illusion." she offers out one of her hands, the fingertips too smooth by half and lacking the whorls and lines of any kind of fingerprint,"Molly." she offers,"And I like it." pause,"The band, that is."

Iron Man has posed:
The drink is set down and Tony accepts the hand. "Tony," he offers, "though I suspect you knew that." He motions towards his gloved hand. "And Iron Man. Sometimes." He smirks at that before releasing her hand and retrieving his drink. "So tell me how you are insurance? What is it that you do?"

His head cants to the side curiously at her with the notion of liking the band. "And I thought you'd never heard of them." His eyes squint uncertainly at her. "Alright. What's your angle? You're here. As insurance."

Molly Millions has posed:
There's a belated moment, he said Stark, Molly looked it up out of curiousity, and then he verbally affirms what her search just pulled up,"I didn't. But now I do." there's a considering pause from her,"My apology's... you're the Mister Stark, of the Stark-Fukishima corporation. I... have actually heard of you. Though I confess that your publicity photos aren't what I expected."

There's a small flash of a smile from her,"A client was being watched, they needed eyes that wouldn't be... suspected. So I was the insurance. And I hadn't... heard of them. But for all the limitation of your matrix it does contain a wealth of music."

Iron Man has posed:
"What publicity photos did you expect?" amusement colours Tony's tone. "It's good to have a reputation. Sometimes. Even if it's a bad reputation sometimes it's best that people just know what to expect of you." His eyes narrow slightly. "Which is why, I suspect, you do what you do. People don't expect that of you."

"Watched by who? Jilted lover? Government officials? Russian spies?" he's still amused, and it shows in every nuance of his face. The crinkle of his eyes, the curve of his lips, and the movement of his cheeks. There's something oddly intrigued. "So, you're almost like a private investigator. Or an equalizer. Interesting. How do you act as insurance, exactly?" He manages a vague chuckle at the mention of not knowing the band. "Not many are very familiar anymore. But the classics are still the classics."

Molly Millions has posed:
"More that I hate the suits, this is a better look." Molly opines with a slight smile,"Now that would be telling, Tony." her whiskey's finally delivered and she collects it,"I'm whatever I'm paid to be. In this case, a pair of eyes." there's the tilt of her head again,"Somehow I think you have plenty of those though. Doesn't it get... dull? Being watched all the time?" she gives the amber liquid a swirl before bringing it to her lips.

"Or are you one of those that enjoys the attention?" the question tagged on with a more sardonic smile after a moment.

Iron Man has posed:
"The suits are a work necessity. But these are lab clothes. Better for tinkering than your average three piece suit." He smirks at her and then nods, "Aren't we all whatever we're paid for in the moment?" His eyebrows lift at the notion of it getting dull. "I don't really need people watching me." His chin drops towards his chest. "I like to believe they just can't seem to look away. Like every night is prom and I happen to be the queen." His lips quirk.

"Everyone basks in attention. Just varies depending on who is watching. And what they see." His eyes narrow slightly and he hums quietly. "So how do you market yourself? You are eyes. You are... information." His lips purse. "How do you tell people what you do? You know, I may want to hire you. But how would I even know? Problems, problems, problems," his tongue clucks. He finishes his drink and sets the glass on the nearest surface.

Molly Millions has posed:
"An old friend would approve of your lab style." Molly chuckles quietly, dipping her head in acknowledgment for his words with a laugh,"I think your crown slipped, your majesty. And personally... I prefer not to be noticed."

There's the sip from her whiskey as she considers,"I understand the popular word at the moment is a mercenary. Though where I'm from, they were called joes. I also understand that your corporation deals with technology, and might actually be reasonably expected to be forthright about their dealings. Maybe I'll come by your laboratory some time." the whiskey's drained and set down as she straightens,"If you wanted me to."

Iron Man has posed:
There's a quirk of a smile at the suggestion. "Come by. Look around. I think we could find some mutual benefit. Maybe you can even help me find that tiara. Really shiny; glimmers in the light," Tony lifts his hand to demonstrate the shininess of his would-be crown.

"Alright Molly. This," he points towards his empty glass, "has to be my last. I've been told I have to call China tomorrow morning. About something," he shrugs with mock exasperation. "So, come by sometime. See what we do. I'll see if I can put you to work. Maybe. I like talented people and I think a big piece of success is bringing in talent. We'll talk more." He winks, waves towards the bartender and points to Molly. He's covering her tab. "Take it easy." Pause. "And listen to more AC/DC, okay?" His eyebrows lift expectantly and he turns to the exit.