pepper potts. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scovillescale) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2019-02-10 11:26 pm
scovillescale) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2019-02-10 11:26 pm
Entry tags:
all we are is dust in the wind.
WHO: Pepper & Tony.
WHERE: Forge.
WHEN: Right after everyone is back from the shrine.
OPEN TO: None. The people in the forge will definitely not want to be around for this.
WARNINGS: HOT. MESS. Language, discussions of Thanos-style deaths and Observer boxes of misery, TBD.
WHERE: Forge.
WHEN: Right after everyone is back from the shrine.
OPEN TO: None. The people in the forge will definitely not want to be around for this.
WARNINGS: HOT. MESS. Language, discussions of Thanos-style deaths and Observer boxes of misery, TBD.
Humming to herself, Pepper drops to rest on the balls of her feet, a smile still curving her lips from something Tony just said. A swish of ginger ponytail against the edge of the table accompanies her peering under it, and then a sigh punctuates the airspace around her. Yes, it's partially because even here, with so much less at hand to make creative chaos, she's still found chaos, but it's definitely more because she should have had this done days ago. She would have, if not for the impromptu, instantaneous vacation to the This Is Your Life shrine-theatre and the resulting days-long trip on foot back again.
She ducks further to start pulling out a questionably stacked tower of things, arranging them behind her as she goes, but she all but disappears under the table for the last thing. On one hand and two knees, she reaches it and then shimmies backward, and she half expects to hear a wolf whistle or remark about her ass after that maneuver. When she emerges from beneath the table with a box, though, it's with the light of curiosity in her eyes. While she hasn't received one of these boxes directly, she does recognize it as the type that suddenly shows up places with provisions or "gifts" inside. The lid isn't fully settled into place on it, possibly from her moving it, and when Pepper sits back on her heels so she can fix that, she catches the faintest of smells.
Her perfume?
The box feels practically weightless, and there's been no tell-tale thump-thud of anything banging around inside since she picked it up, but it's unmistakable. For some reason, something inside the box carries a scent that she herself hasn't worn since the day before that morning run that never finished. Instead of tapping the lid into place, she removes it - dusty in her hands, the top and underside of that lid, but she thinks nothing of it as it clings to her skin, because it was under the table on the ground - and immediately tilts the now-open box toward brighter light, because the smell gets stronger. Not overpoweringly stronger, at all, but it does deepen enough to be even more unmistakable.
It's not empty, that deceptively weightless box of cardboard. No, in her hands is a box coated on the inside with ash and dust, very little shifting around in the bottom, presumably because of it clinging to the cardboard on all sides, just as the scent also clings. She's tended enough fires just since arriving here - between the fireplace in the house, the fires in the forge, and on the trip back from the shrine - so even were that her only experience, she still knows what ash looks like. She's also tended enough to know what it smells like, and that's never been her perfume... until now.
She ducks further to start pulling out a questionably stacked tower of things, arranging them behind her as she goes, but she all but disappears under the table for the last thing. On one hand and two knees, she reaches it and then shimmies backward, and she half expects to hear a wolf whistle or remark about her ass after that maneuver. When she emerges from beneath the table with a box, though, it's with the light of curiosity in her eyes. While she hasn't received one of these boxes directly, she does recognize it as the type that suddenly shows up places with provisions or "gifts" inside. The lid isn't fully settled into place on it, possibly from her moving it, and when Pepper sits back on her heels so she can fix that, she catches the faintest of smells.
Her perfume?
The box feels practically weightless, and there's been no tell-tale thump-thud of anything banging around inside since she picked it up, but it's unmistakable. For some reason, something inside the box carries a scent that she herself hasn't worn since the day before that morning run that never finished. Instead of tapping the lid into place, she removes it - dusty in her hands, the top and underside of that lid, but she thinks nothing of it as it clings to her skin, because it was under the table on the ground - and immediately tilts the now-open box toward brighter light, because the smell gets stronger. Not overpoweringly stronger, at all, but it does deepen enough to be even more unmistakable.
It's not empty, that deceptively weightless box of cardboard. No, in her hands is a box coated on the inside with ash and dust, very little shifting around in the bottom, presumably because of it clinging to the cardboard on all sides, just as the scent also clings. She's tended enough fires just since arriving here - between the fireplace in the house, the fires in the forge, and on the trip back from the shrine - so even were that her only experience, she still knows what ash looks like. She's also tended enough to know what it smells like, and that's never been her perfume... until now.