"Now I see. The demon is me."
Lisa May Stark is so much more than the child she used to be when she and her father were kidnapped in Afghanistan five years ago. She's Iron Man's daughter, she's the Red Raven, she's, well, you know who she is...
got to get it in my head; i'll never be sixteen again i'm waiting to live, and waiting to love oh, it'll be over, and i'll still be asking when when───dodie clark
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mit june 3, 2016 ( lisa's point of view )
A scene opens up on a cream colored living room with three people lounging comfortably within it. A beautiful blonde woman in a light blue skirt suit is sitting at a beautiful grand piano and her kind hands move across the black and white ivory keys in a soft and kind tune. A candle with a small yellow flame sits atop the piano, unwavering. A figure is stretched out on the couch and covered nearly completely by a red blanket, snoring softly. In front of lying body sits a small brunette with blue eyes about three years old. She's making quiet sounds while she goes on playing with colorful blocks as a cup of chocolate milk sits nearby.
The woman, Maria, plays a soft and sweet song at the piano as her voice gently begins to sing, "Try to remember the kind of September. When grass was green,"
Try to remember and if you remember, then follow...
My eyes briefly close and my brows pull together as I hear her voice again, having missed the sound of it so much.
A white haired man, Howard, quickly steps into the living room and pulls the blanket up off of the lying figure's face. He stares down at the stirring young man with a somewhat disapproving expression before he drops the red blanket back onto his son's face.
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"Wake up, Dear," Maria calls to Tony as she continues playing the keys, "and say goodbye to your father."
Tony sniffs and throws the blanket off of his head. Wearing one of those Santa hats, he tiredly blinks and gazes around the room while he slowly sits up.
"Who's the homeless person on the couch?" Howard asks, not looking at his son as he buttons his suit jacket.
Tony gives a quiet laugh that sounds suspiciously like a scoff as he rolls off of the couch and bends up to his feet slowly. His three year old, Lisa, looks up from her blocks and a wide grin overcomes her face when she sees him.
