[Center][URL=http://www.polyvore.com/dancing_in_street/set?id=134499766]→ Astrid ←[/URL][/center]

“Exit light! Entuh niiiight! Taaaake my hand! We're off to Never Neverland!”

People walking down the sidewalks, scurrying to and from work, couldn't help but to point and stare as a young woman danced in a wildly and quite ungraceful manner past them. Some laughed and pointed while a few took pictures and videos as she paused and made merry with a most excellent head bang, her long curls of blue flying about. There were some, as usual, who thought she was a few McNuggets short of a full Happy Meal and quickly scurried away as though they feared her attention would be drawn to bring them into her performance. She didn't mind. She focused solely on producing the guitar solo from her mouth as she heard it pounding in her ears from pokèball shaped headphones and fuelling her daily adrenaline. Although, her friends might argue that the hyperactive thing didn't need anything to fuel her more than simply being alive did. 

She eventually moved on swinging about with her air guitar. There was an obvious and infectious air of whimsy about her that she hoped would brighten up at least one person's day. At the drop of a hat, she began belting out a new tune with an operatic voice, her gestures filled with all the bravado of her beloved icon, George Takei. “Getting to know you! Getting to know all about yoooou! Getting to like you! Getting to hope you like meee!” She paused here and there to serenade a glum passerby, tickling children who clapped and waved as the fae-like woman went on her way in a far more graceful manner. 

Up ahead was a diner on the corner with the word "Ralph" in ostentatious lime green neon. She twirled blithely towards the less-than-elegant eatery as she sustained one last note before ending up at the door, kneeling down on one knee and holding her arms out, basking in the applause and cheer from behind her. She was up in an instant, turning around with a grin as she put one hand to her waist and gave a mighty bow. “You love me! You really love me!” Her eyes glazed over with forced tears for dramatic effect before she issued a lighthearted laugh and waved. She was content to stand and bask a little longer, accepting gracious tips, but the irate and rather tiny old woman in front of her would prefer that she move. 

After being assaulted with an umbrella, she dodged one more blow and let the woman pass, holding the door open for her while pushing her headphones and hood down. Moss green eyes rolled as she chuckled at the angry ramblings of the elderly lady went on about the weird and disrespectful generation of today. Still, Astrid shoved the bills and change into the pockets of her jacket and proceeded to enter, finding her way to a secluded table in the back. Said table was [I]her[/I] table. It didn't have her name on it or anything, but she liked to believe that the cushy seat had morphed to fit her well curved ass quite perfectly and rejected all other asses that were not hers. It was only her personal theory, though the seat really did curve in some spots to accommodate her perfectly.

She was quiet as she sat facing the rest of the diner. The seat had none others behind it preventing people from peeking over her shoulder to see her fiddling with a small phone-like device, sliding around files labeled with a slew of letters and hyphens and numbers. She was anxious for her latest partner, Captain Steve Rogers, to arrive so that they could quickly receive their new assignment, one that had been delivered to her directly by Director Fury. Agent Coulson was Director now, yes. Still, she knew Fury better than most, if not all, and she knew that he'd be back and he'd always have his hand in SHIELD. She would have opened the file sooner and simply debriefed the Captain en route to whatever mysterious destination their file held, but it required voice activation from both parties.

And, of course, she had the glorious task of informing Captain America that his number one fanboy wasn't dead and was now sorta his boss.

She was drawn from her fiddling and runaway train of thoughts by a female's voice, immediately looking up with a smile as she tucked away her device. “'Hello, Amelia.” Her own voice was soft with a prominent English accent. However, Amelia was one of the people who knew that her true accent was far from English, actually Colombian. She imitated Sofìa Vergara perfectly. Still, she seemed to have a different accent rolling from her tongue every time she came in, along with a different story about her origins. Many assumed she was just a pathological liar. If only they knew. Nobody would ever peg her as a secret agent. Hell, nobody who saw her passing by could imagine her so much as wearing a pantsuit, much less working for some modern Men in Black organization.

She gave a bob of her head, cerulean curls bouncing as she did. “Too long! Oh, and [I]please[/I] add an extra steak to that order! Sixteen ounce!” Her "usual" consisted of a ten ounce medium rare steak with a large salad and mixed fruit all washed down with a glass of milk. While Ralph's didn't exactly have a classy air to it - at all - it was discrete, small, and got local farm ingredients. Astrid could get down with that. She had been a regular customer for many years and had gotten to know most of the staff past and present. Amelia was her favorite though. Even when she was irate or tired, as Astrid's well trained eyes could see she was now, she always managed a smile and an air of professionalism. “Also - I'm totes fab. As always.” Astrid was never one to be in a foul mood.

[Center]***[/center]

Tony Stark had been in nothing [I]but[/I] a foul mood to his very core for the past few months. 

He believed his life to be on track for a while now, improving with his people skills and personal issues while maintaining his superhero gig. He had been ready to settle down and pop the big question to Virginia "Pepper" Potts after he helped remove the Extremis from her body and the shrapnel from his chest. They had been through so much and she was always there. But there was a tape leaked of an after hours encounter of the sexual kind that she had with Aldritch Killian, a man that later turned out to be evil, psychotic, and tried to kill them both. He knew they were in a rut because of his anxiety attacks and nightmares from their battle with Loki... But he didn't think the rut was that deep.

Matters were only made worse when he found out that some of the SHIELD agents he employed before and after the fall of the secret organisation were actually sleeper agents for a Nazi terrorist group older than Captain America. He had managed to be sober and use the head on his shoulders long enough to have them sniffed out and arrested before buckling down on security. His new security wasn't just any security. He had hired the muscle of underground fighters and the minds of teenage and young adult hackers and engineers to bolster his numbers. Many saw it as a dumb move but he was okay with that before slipping back into the arms of the waiting centerfolds.

“Tony will be with you momentarily, Captain.”

Steve was addressed by the English accented Artificial Intelligence program that was JARVIS, its tone polite and informal, as though speaking with an old friend. Tony could hear them both but didn't want to get up from beneath the pile of sheets thrown over him and a woman whose name he couldn't remember. The only thing that made him get up was knowing that Steve wasn't going to go. The Boy Scout was extremely persistent and sometimes it was just plain annoying. He had no time or tolerance for any more lectures on moral codes and whatnot. Steve could take it all and shove it up his ass as far as Tony was concerned.

“You. Leave.”

His voice was groggy and raspy from too many drinks along with some yelling for various reasons. The dazed and sleepy blonde pouted as she woke up before being pushed rudely away from Tony. She stood with a haughty huff and stalked out. She would have grabbed clothes had she not been so drunk and burned them the previous night. She was confident that not too many people were in the garage, making it less of an embarrassment as she entered the elevator, pausing to offer Steve an enticing smile.

“What? What could you possibly want?” The bearded genius looked at Steve with blurry vision, trying to figure out which of the two moving figures was the real Steve. His head pounded as he adjusted his boxers and gave his jewels a scratch while sitting on the couch covered with clothes and paper. He normally exuded an aura of arrogance to match his words, but everything about him now made him seem more like a child fresh out of a tantrum. A hand ran through messy sex-hair brown in color as he awaited the answer, trying to stay awake long enough to listen.