Build the mold, then break it

Independent & Canon Divergent Tony Stark RP Blog Reinvented by Adi

[industrialspark]

industrialspark is a semi-selective, low activity, mutual only, MCU canon divergent iteration of Tony Stark, with comic influences & personal lore interwoven. Crossover, OC, & duplicate friendly. Darker and potentially triggering themes will apply. General RP etiquette in place & details below the cut. Rebuilt by Adi (35+).

Asks: 10 Drafts: 12 Queue: 2

Code of Conduct Content Disclaimer: This blog will have USFW themes including, but not limited to: torture, brainwashing, mentions of sexual assault, drug / alcohol use, murder, psychological / body horror, maiming, gore, sex, and violence. By following this blog you are agreeing to that you understand the nature of such themes that will occur. 

Universes

This blog is mainly MCU based with some 616 & personal influences. The main canon divergence involves Tony surviving Endgame. Multiple verses will develop with time, writing partners, and other inspirations. Tony's timeline jumping point is currently in flux and will become more detailed at a later date.

Formatting / Writing

I use single small text and may or may not use icons. I don’t expect you to have fancy formatting. Formatting will drop off for reading purposes for writing partners when requested. I will often try to match my partner’s writing length. I am good with single line responses to multiple paragraphs. Memes are a great way to start interactions. I am far faster with inbox content than at drafts.  Crack threads and content will be tagged accordingly.

Asks / Anon

Anon is for fun, for the ease of sideblog users, and generally a good time. It will be turned of if it's used to harass, demean, or stir up drama. Feel free to make any asks that are answered into new threads if you so wish, just please make a new post. Memes are a fantastic way to break the ice in general, and I am open to conversing plots via IM or Discord. Asks can easily evolve into threads, I simply ask that they be cultivated in a new post please.

Speed

Please do not expect speedy and or timely responses. This is not my only blog, and I reserve the right to step away when and if necessary. I have a full time job with a wack ass schedule and I am gone for days at a time on a consistent basis. I also do not expect rapid fire responses in return.

Shipping

I ship Tony with chemistry. We are multiship friendly here. If you want to possibly develop something please come talk to me about it. Currently I don't have any sort of NOTP or OTP. I won't autoship things with Pepper simply because it's canon. Chemistry > Canon.

Blog Roll

Steve Rogers @battlesthatmatter Bucky Barnes @coldleads Frank Castle @punirearce Sarah Rogers @gctbackup

[industrialspark]

"You know, I have always thought of myself as nothing special. I suppose that's the sort of mindset we in our field come to have. We either think we have to make up for some dramatic flaw in our character or we think we have nothing special to offer. The general mentality there is a little perplexing, isn't it?"

He blinked, and then blinked again. Tony waited, head tilted as he studied Steve; much like observing a contemporary art piece the he couldn't quite figure out, but was certainly not going to ask or read the little plaque either. He tapped his pen against his lips as his brows furrowed. "Is this your first time trying weed?" He let his face relax a little as he uttered the conclusion drawn. "I mean how much did you have to take to get this spot, I would love to see some bloodwork on you like this. Don't worry, no jabs here without permission." "Cause if you're not hanging out with Mary, I would love to know how we got here." "Also, you're speaking for yourself Cap. I know I'm prefect and there is absolutely nothing wrong with me," he finished, with a couple of tongue clicks and finger guns in Steve's general direction. If his sarcasm was any dryer, it could have made Tony a martini.

[quotefeeling]

“Re-create yourselves: and let this be your best creation.”

— Friedrich Nietzsche, from Thus Spoke Zarathustra

[industrialspark]

What does your love taste like?

Result: cigarettes and coffee.

a love like yours is raw, bitter, deeply human. it’s the kind of love that lingers in your skin, in your clothes, in the spaces between words. yes, you’re un unforgettable lover. you stain. it’s a love that keeps you awake at night. maybe you didn’t even want to fall in love at first, am i right? you just wanted to have fun and now you’re stuck, you really can’t get them out of your head and you fought it for a while or maybe you’re still fighting it. yours is a love that’s flawed, human, and deeply felt. it’s not made for fairy tales, but for indie song artists and lovers who do not care about the happily-ever-after, only about the present. being loved by you leaves a bitter aftertaste, you know? it carries a certain ache. it’s full of long pauses, stained fingertips, and glances that say more than words. but are you sure your partner knows how to interpret them? it can be pretty confusing. it’s so hard to guess what you’re thinking or what you’re feeling that you might leave your partner often wondering: “do they really want to be with me?”. some days you’re considerate, sweet, it’s so fun to be with you. then you distance yourself and you get all caught up in your own thoughts and problems you hardly share the burden of. the hardest part is loving you back. child, why do you make it so difficult? why do you push people away? is there something that makes you feel like you’re not worthy of being loved? is it your anger? your love tastes like coffee and cigarettes for breakfast. that might not be enough to satiate your lover’s hunger.

Tagged by: @yoursdndispatcher Tagging: Everybody that was born on a Tuesday

[industrialspark]

[ casually drawing all over his own arm with a sharpie, not paying attention to Dum-E, whose started a small fire behind him]

Tony could only gawk at the scene before him. The sight sure as hell wasn't a Norman Rockwell painting, but it oddly and accurately captured his life. Stiles was clearly in his own little ADHD world, hyper focused on doodling on himself with sharpie — maybe he should get the kid some better body art supplies for his birthday — and then there was Dum-E, just... doing their best. Tony walked in, promptly addressing the small fire by beating it down with a shop towel until it started to fizzle out. He made sure to smush the last vestiges of embers with his shoe and continued to glance back at the former blaze while he spoke to them both. "You, I expect more out of," he said as he pointed directly to Dum-E. "As for you," he uttered as he looked over at Stiles, "What sort of design are you going for? And were you ever going to thank Dum-E for their efforts in trying to entertain you. He gave you a floor show."

[battlesthatmatter]

Semi hiatus; work stuff has me fucked up. ETA unknown atm.

[industrialspark]

My work schedule does not permit Tony being a ho on designated ho day and he's constantly mad about it.

[battlesthatmatter]

It's gonna take me some time to adjust to this new schedule. I am beat. Gonna try and recoup, chug an energy drink, and try to work on drafts tonight. I appreciate your patience.

[industrialspark]

'you told me it was a scratch , this is not a fucking scratch!'

"It is a scratch — " He started as he peeled away the remaining scraps of metal that had been sheered away by the flying shrapnel. The fact that the armor had held up was a feat in and of itself. Tony was simply happy that he still had his torso intact and none of those flying pieces had become impaled into his side. " — a very long, somewhat deep, scratch." Tony kept his hand on said scratch, thankful that the feedback in the suit was allowing him to tell just how much he was bleeding. Should he be concerned? Probably. Was he going to show that? Not right now; he had an argument to win over the semantics of wound definitions. "I mean we can both stand here and consult Webster to get his input on things, if it really means that much to you. I, however, am going to seal this little memento off and go prodding these agents for information. But if your heart's set on electrifying your vernacular, go slay queen."

[bruciewayne]

When everything else about these heroes is forgotten, this is what was still remembered: not their weaknesses, or their rivalries with one another– not their regrets, or their secrets. Not their scars. 

We remembered that when evil rose up, in the name of death or conquest or tyranny, they stood against it. No matter how powerful or terrifying, they stood against it. 

And they prevailed.

Avengers World, Spencer & Hickman, Caselli

[industrialspark]

[esotericsoldier]

@industrialspark followed from  ☣ 

The reply came too quickly.

The signal spiked, surged back toward him, JARVIS’s unmistakable imprint pushing against the channel, and his mind, tracing it even as Valentin felt the systems around and inside him react. His breath hitched as warning glyphs flared across the terminal he’d been hunched over, alarms attempting to initialise.

‘Do not,’ Valentin protested sharply, voice utilised for the first time in a decade. ‘Do not trace this. You will trigger—’

The failsafe detonated mid-sentence.

Pain lanced through him as the system interpreted the return signal as breach, protocols colliding violently. His abilities surged outward without restraint, forced into a broadcast state he had never willingly used. ( The warning signal tore free of him, raw and automatic, carrying more than distress. Coordinates. Structural data. A precise location burned into the transmission like a brand. ) It was not consent. It was surrender forced by design.

Valentin cried out as the feedback ripped through him, clutching the console until his knuckles went white. The transmission ended abruptly, systems shutting down to prevent further escalation, plunging the room back into silence.

He did not stay to see if anything reactivated.

He retreated immediately, staggering back through familiar corridors, body trembling with aftershock and spikes of electricity from the still working collar adorning his throat, until he reached the cell that had become his constant. ( The door slid shut behind him with a dull, final sound. ) Valentin sank to the floor, back against the wall, knees drawn in tight as he fought to steady his breathing. He had not meant to give himself away.

Somewhere far above, something in the world now knew where he was.

[industrialspark]

Tony turned to one of the nearby computers. The holographic systems were a boon, but when it came to something emergent, he needed something that actually gave him proper feedback. The engineer got to work, sifting through the datapoints that JARVIS was collecting and sending to his screens. Just when he was getting into the good stuff, the feed stopped. "Sir, I believe their systems have been rendered offline." "Did we just get electronically ding dong ditched? Are you fucking kidding me? Is this a bunch of kids at work or what?" He rolled back in his chair and his eyes went back up to look at the screen. So what was it? A mistake or a trap? He wasn't about to go full boar without some more information, but that could take precious time. Whomever was up to this could be long gone by the time he'd gone through everything with a fine tooth comb. Tony pulled his glasses off of his face, a calloused palm rubbing the bridge of his nose as he weighed his options. Fuck it. "JARIVS do me a favor and catalogue, duplicate, and send it as a cipher to Rhodey. I need more eyes on this ASAP. I want a live feed of the meat and potatoes sent to my HUD, as well as last known coordinates of that transmission." "Yes sir. If Mr. Rhodes has any inquiries should I have him contact you?" "Tell him to hold off on scrambling the jets, he'll get a kick out of that one. Let him know I'll be in route.

He dusted his hands off and set his glasses down on the table as he stood. Tony made his way down to the Hall of Armor and started looking through the Marks that were prepped. He could practically hear his own thoughts burning through his neurons as he picked out Mark XL for the job. He wanted speed, and Shogun was gonna give him Mach 5. "Alright, alright," he bounced from side to side while the suit came forward and opened up. In a moment he was comfortably encased and kickstarting diagnostics, while glancing through the feed JARVIS was giving him. "Send them a little love note back. I wanna let them know they're gonna get a gift basket since they sent us a candy gram." "Understood, sir."

The roar of the pulsars coming to life was dampened to by the helm and there was a specific type of glee of finally getting to see of this suit was going to live up to expectation. He took off and made sure he was at least in proper air space before he decided to absolutely obliterate the sound barrier. Mach 5? More like Mach Fuck You. Tony didn't even try to suppress the yell of absolute glee that came out of him as he got to speed. For better or worse, this was happening. "Ready or not, here I come."

[villanells]

Iron Man (2008) dir. Jon Favreau

[industrialspark]

❝ Do you really have to go on this mission? ❞ His every word was laced in anxiety, hands pulling at his shirt. ❝ I...I have a sinking feeling. Don't go, dad. Please ,I don't think you should ....❞

The heel of his shoe scuffed against the floor as he stopped himself. He turned and kept Stiles in his line of sight as they stood in the Hall of Armor. Fingers lightly tapped on the console to input the correct code. The various Marks started to move, his selection rotated closer into view. "What kind of sinking feeling? Where's it coming from?" It was important to listen to one's gut. Stiles' gut may be fueled with enough red bull to take out a blue whale, but Tony wasn't going to jump out of the gate as dismissive of that sensation. There was a reason that Stiles body was signaling danger, and he wanted to hear what it was. He drifted closer to the Mark XX.2. He might have destroyed it's predecessor with the Clean Slate protocol, but overall the design had enough utility to bring a variant back. While the Python armor slid up into place, he kept his attention on his boy. Tony stepped away from the suit of armor and moved closer to Stiles. "Talk to me."

[industrialspark]

[industrialspark]

➔ you're banned from doing anything remotely dangerous.

"Oh that's cute." Tony remained where he stood, palm pressed against the desk that was littered with papers his father had kept hidden away, until the engineer had started digging through them. His old man had really been doing interesting things behind the scenes. While Tony didn't mind the press apparently Howard compiled more secrets than Tony could shake a stick at. No wonder he wasn't around for holidays growing up. The man had been learning about the occult and how to fight against it. It was a little surreal, but Tony was doing what he could to roll with the punches. Secret societies? Men of Letters? Dumb fucking name, and he hoped to God his dad didn't have anything to do with that title. It was a lot. "Your family might have been building and running Alphabet Soup all these years, but Earth is my home too. And I'll be damned, erm - poor choice of words I suppose, but the fact of the matter is I'm not gonna just sit here and do nothing." "So you can either help and make this a collaborative effort, or I can go back to reading and using ye ol trial and error method."

[yoursdndispatcher]

Its never gonna end, Robert thought. Not unless he or law enforcement went full scorched earth, which A, isn't his style, and B- is not in local or state budget. "Federal, maybe" he mumbles aloud. Yeah.... The feds could route out the last vestiges of the Red Ring. Then Robert could sleep at last... Not that he ever slept soundly. Not even when he was in a coma, and his captive, overactive mind would try to participate in discussions around him- incorporating even the most mundane facts and numbers into scenes to wade through... fight against. Oh no. Someone's singing, and that's gonna make coma brain construct something literal out of the lyrics. "Not doing that shit again," he mumbled. The flash of rage is enough to rouse him into the waking world again. He sees the metallic unmoving face of the iron man suit... Clouds were passing by, and he felt wind in his short hair. He's alive. Isn't he? "This is way too trippy," he murmured. And this man's words weren't helping. What was that about arms and legs? What flight team? Were they coming? "No... don't wanna see them... Just drop me off at home. Sleep it off."

[industrialspark]

Federal? Tony snorted out a laugh. Oh yeah 'ol boy was having a time right now, and the sooner he could get him to the hospital the better. Tony leaned slightly, still keeping a firm hold onto Robert as he adjusted the flight speed to just a smidge faster. He'd take the guy talking though, that was typically a good sign. As long as the dude didn't absolutely freak on him, they were gonna be golden. "What shit are you not doing? Oh please spill the tea. I love a good story." Tony took a break from looking at the flight plan and dipped his head enough to get a better look at the guy he was carrying. "Sleep it off? Oh hell no. You can have it out with the docs and nurses on that one. It's your prerogative if you wanna get out of there AMA, but It's not going to be because I didn't at least hand you over to 'em to be seen." "For the record, it's easier if you just hold still till we get there cause we're roughly eight hundred feet above the ground. So if you can be patient for the next two minutes, everything will be peachy."