If Jasmine was not used to all the cocky, prideful, prince Suitors that her father practically shoved in her face to marry, Jasmine would have been floored by this man’s arrogance and ignorance. However, after a year or so of dealing with his type, Jasmine could only quirk up a brow and present the man with a slight smirk as she placed her hand within his—awaiting the common gesture one would present to a princess; a bow of their head and a kiss upon the top of her hand. “Mr. Stark, where is it that you are from?” She asked in her sweetest voice, despite her hidden annoyance.
He shook her hand just like he’d shake anyone else’s before pocketing his hands and leaning back on the heels of his feet, “From the good ole United States of America; New York originally. You know, the big apple.”
Landing square on the bottoms of his feet again, he raised a brow and tilted his head to the side, “I didn’t catch your name, though, Miss..?” He wasn’t aware that the girl was a princess and if he was aware, he’d most likely find fun in teasing her to see how annoyed he could really get the young woman. For now, he was content with the current situation.
“Princess Jasmine of Agrabah. My people are Agrabanian, Mr. Stark.” Jasmine introduced herself while the other disregaurded normal customs and shook her hand without care.
“Ah, well that explains your ignorance as well as your undeserved arrogance” Jasmine smiled sarcastically and retrieved her hand from the man, wiping it against her pants before crossing her arms across her chest. “New York, is it? So what do you call your people? White?”
Ooc: As in RP? If he’s coming off a bit strongly, I apologize. It’s not that I mean to appear as if the RPer is as ignorant and harsh as Tony sounds, and I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. Again, if I offend, I apologize. But I understand if you don’t wish to RP with Stark.
I hope as individuals you don’t think too poorly of me.
ooc: omg no. I was complimenting you. I’ve been laughing my ass off this entire time!
ooc: OH. Very good then. xD Sorry I over-reacted, I took the “I cannot” as “this isn’t going to work.”
ooc: It was “I cannot” as in “I have lost my ability to can breathe”
I use all the ridiculous tumblr lingo.
IN MY TAGS I SAID YOU WIN ALL THE AWARDS.
ooc: Oh no, I’m so bad I’m suffocating you?! LOL
And I know but I thought the awards thing was sarcastic!
Ooc: As in RP? If he’s coming off a bit strongly, I apologize. It’s not that I mean to appear as if the RPer is as ignorant and harsh as Tony sounds, and I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. Again, if I offend, I apologize. But I understand if you don’t wish to RP with Stark.
I hope as individuals you don’t think too poorly of me.
ooc: omg no. I was complimenting you. I’ve been laughing my ass off this entire time!
ooc: OH. Very good then. xD Sorry I over-reacted, I took the “I cannot” as “this isn’t going to work.”
ooc: It was “I cannot” as in “I have lost my ability to can breathe”
Ooc: As in RP? If he’s coming off a bit strongly, I apologize. It’s not that I mean to appear as if the RPer is as ignorant and harsh as Tony sounds, and I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. Again, if I offend, I apologize. But I understand if you don’t wish to RP with Stark.
I hope as individuals you don’t think too poorly of me.
ooc: omg no. I was complimenting you. I’ve been laughing my ass off this entire time!
Jasmine’s eyes narrowed as she huffed a breath of hot air whilst crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ll have you know that my clothes are made from the finest silk in all of Agrabah—no the seven deserts! They are not ‘tacky’”
“Pah!” She huffed, turning her head up and to the side, clearly not interested in what the other had to say. But her curiosity won over and with a small “hmph” she tottered over, peering at the girl’s silks over her glasses. “They are not peasant clothes,” she allowed, folding her arms stubbornly across her chest and turning her nose to the sky. “BUT YOU BEG TOO MUCH, DAHLING - of course I will make you a new outfit.”
The smaller womans antics were..if anything, tolerable. Growing up within palace walls, Jasmine was already familar with the gawking looks of her royal dressors and thus comfortable with the process of judging and assesing the clothing in question.
“They are not peasant clothes.”
Jasmine raised her hand, beginning to speak to agree with the womans words until she was cut off rather abruptly with the designers raised voice. Her facial features twisted into those of disbelief and mild outrage, her jaw had also dropped exponentially. Jasmine could have sworn she did not beg for any sort of thing let alone have time to get a word in otherwise.
“I’m quite alright in the clothes that I’m wearing. What do you find so wrong with them?”
no-friend-like-me "Jasmine!" He grinned and flew over to her, giving her a hug. "So glad you could join us! How have you been?"
“Genie!” Jasmine was all grins and giggles. She would have even returned the hug if her own arms weren’t pinned to her sides; he always gave the biggest bear hugs. “I’ve been, busy! Ruling Agrabah, even if it’s just temporary is..very hard work. How about you?”
Did the girl just say Agrabah? That’s different than Pakistan- a lot different. Judging by what she was wearing, she wasn’t lying about the silk; and if she had that kind of clothing- if her father was the slightest bit wealthy, it could boost not just his income but give him yet another avenue to advertise his clean energy campaign. He extended his hand to the young princess and introduced himself with a genuine smile, “Name’s Tony Stark. You do look a little tacky, but apparently so do I- what are citizens of Agrabah called? Agrabahn? Agranian? Brown?”
If Jasmine was not used to all the cocky, prideful, prince Suitors that her father practically shoved in her face to marry, Jasmine would have been floored by this man’s arrogance and ignorance. However, after a year or so of dealing with his type, Jasmine could only quirk up a brow and present the man with a slight smirk as she placed her hand within his—awaiting the common gesture one would present to a princess; a bow of their head and a kiss upon the top of her hand. “Mr. Stark, where is it that you are from?” She asked in her sweetest voice, despite her hidden annoyance.
Edna quirks a brow, keeping up a flawless pokerface. “My God you people are tacky…COME TO ME, DAHLINGS, don’t make me beg!” Whips out her notepad in a flourish and starts sketching new - more acceptable - outfits.
Looking over each shoulder, then around at the others being referenced, he blinked- this short woman couldn’t be talking about him, “She’s right. You all really do look tacky.”
“Charming.” Helga muttered, shooting the man a glare before turning her attention to the sktechpad.
Jasmine’s eyes narrowed as she huffed a breath of hot air whilst crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ll have you know that my clothes are made from the finest silk in all of Agrabah—no the seven deserts! They are not ‘tacky’”
