[center][img]http://2.media.dorkly.cvcdn.com/43/68/eb112b1a4eceb298625213e3a613c6b8-the-5-most-embarrassing-moments-in-iron-man-comic-book-history.jpg[/img] [b]Part 1[/b] [i]"Porque la paga del pecado es muerte"[/i] ~ Romans 6:23[/center] [right][sub][b]Mexico, Undisclosed Location[/b][/sub][/right][hr] [indent]Nestled under the shadow of Nevado de Toluca just eighty kilometers due west of Mexico City lies a town. This town does not appear on any map and any GPS will not be able to route to it. Here resting upon soil enriched by the very fires of the Earth, atop a plateau nearly one hundred and eighty two meters tall, the elite and powerful do business. Away from the roar of the city, the prying eyes of journalists and rivals things revert to an almost simpler time. A time where success was only prohibited only by your own ambitions. The walls of this invisible town are high, sculpted from red tinged clay cracked from general wear. Juxtaposed against sagging battlements and embrasures meant for cannon were very modern guards armed with high-caliber rifles and tactical gear watching over the landscape below. A simple dirt road snaked its way up and through the main gates where it morphed into finely carved cobble streets. Despite the shining lamp posts whose electricity was drawn from the geothermal currents beneath them and finely crafted western architecture out of a Renaissance villa, the town was much like any other mountain town. There were farmers, shepherds, weavers, and drunks, children frolicked and played in the streets. Many of these simple people had family or they themselves worked in the building which required all the additional accoutrements as it may be. The building known simply as Un Hotel stood at the apex of the conically rising town. Built far back and away from the clay walls and surrounded by gardens and terraces which commanded a magnificent view from any vantage point that could've been desired. Despite or maybe because of its fine grace and beauty there was something. A certain clinical stateliness pervaded the premise. It was not a house of pleasure or relaxation. It was a house of business, desolate splendor refined to a point. That elite spas and saunas were barely touched, the picturesque mirror-like water of the Olympic pool remained undisturbed and untouched. The only active portion seemed to be the conference rooms and the bar were drinks were poured with a heavy hand. It was here as twilight faded into night without notice that two men sat on the eastern terrace drinking pulques. Or at least one of them was, the other was sipping at his water splashed with lime as he was still on the job. They listened as the sounds of the nightly activities of the town floated their way up to them. The mariachi band played at the open window of the local cantina: eight violins, two trumpets, and a guitarrón. The whimsical splash of music mixed with the interlaced spurts of laughter and merriment. Harold 'Happy' Hogan pushed the glass bottle of pulques towards Tony Stark who poured himself another drinking watching his friend and bodyguard intently. "So that went well." Hogan prompted. What 'went well' was a deal hashed out with the Policía Federal to sell them so new equipment. A non-lethal pulsed energy projectile used to incapacitate targets and bring them in without having to pump them full of bullets. "I guess," "Mhm?" "It's just," Tony started "There was no [i]fun[/i] in it. They didn't try to haggle or ask for a lower price. They just saw the demonstration and ordered a thousand. No resistance at all." Hogan cocked an eyebrow upwards at Tony. "Isn't that more of a testament towards your engineering than anything else. I mean the quality speaks for itself. Saved our ass more than enough times in the Suits." “Doesn’t mean things can’t be fun.” They fell back into a comfortable silence intermittently broken by the sound of Happy swishing around the ice in his glass. Tony gazed downward at the pool as it reflected the dark sky. Here far away from the city it spilled outward like a broken geode, a thousand different stars and galaxies. There light scattered and bled away into the shifting reflecting darkness of the pool. The sounds of the town below muted as the band played a softer ballad with only a lone mournful trumpet filling the air. The reverie was broken as the sound of Tony's phone vibrating snapped the pair of men back to attention. He fished the phone out of his five thousand dollar designer suit pants and looked down. He looked at Happy. "It's your ex-wife." "Tell her I said hi." Tony shook his head as he sat up legs quaking slightly from the pulques. "It's real strange that you two on such amicable turns. Most of my exes want to see me dead." "It's called being an adult Tony. You should try it sometime." Tony's response was to flip Hogan the finger and keep on walking. He fished a pair of seemingly innocuous sunglasses from his jacket pocket and placed them upon his face. Pressing a small button on the left hand side there was a flash and soon he saw the executive suite of Stark Tower, Virginia "Pepper" Potts standing in front of him arms crossed even as the heat of the night never left him. Most would of been surprised of the hologram of Tony appearing out of nothing. For Pepper it was just another evening. "How'd it go?" "Excellent of course. Our lawyer types just need to talk to their lawyer types and bing, bam, boom we are in business." "That's good to hear. I was almost worried that you'd find a way to mess it all up again." Tony pantomimed getting shot in the heart. "And when do I ever mess things up?" Pepper sighed. "Tony," "But-" "Tony." "How was I supposed to know the President of Finland was allergic to peanuts!" "Because I put it [b]in the report[/b]. That you [b]promised[/b] to read." "Tastefully moving the topic of conversation along, how's it going?" Tony ask as Hogan in the 'real world' watched him precariously navigate the perimeter of the pool. "Well productions at....." Tony rolled his eyes as he listened to Pepper begin to list off the business statistics of Stark Enterprises. "Pepper. Pepper. Pepper!" Tony began finally getting her to taper off her tangent. "I don't need to know how the company is doing. It has my name on it, of course it is doing well. I'm asking how you are doing." "In that case," Pepper began. "I work for an incompetent man-child, I work twenty out of twenty four hours a day, I caught a grey hair this morning. So really everything is going swimmingly." "Sounds like an average day," Tony quipped. "How's 'Project R' going?" At the mention of this she actually managed to smile. "I mean the new suit is fantastic and who ever would've thought doing your other job would be just as easy as doing the first." "Love you too." "Goodnight Mister Stark." "See you Ms. Potts." Tony tucked the VR glasses away and made his way back over to the opposite side of the pool where Happy was still sitting. Tony slumped back into the chair the wooden creaking in protest as he did. He finished the last of the pulques in his glass in one go before he regarded Happy. "She says she wants you dead." "Hardy har har," Happy stated, pushing himself upward before turning towards the spotless glass doors that lead back into the hotel proper. "It's getting late and we have an early start tomorrow. Might as well hit the sack." "Yeah you go ahead. I need to get more sleeping aid before I call it." He replied, gesturing towards the empty bottle of pulques. Harold shook his head but left without a comment, knowing that arguing with Tony especially when he had a few drinks in him wouldn't get him anywhere. After indulging himself in the warm air and buzz of the alcohol pulsing through his veins, Tony stood up and made his way inside. Crossing the threshold a chill ran down his spine, temperature regulated constantly at precisely fifteen point fifteen degrees celsius. He walked down lonesome marble hallways,painfully aware of the mechanical whirr of the cameras that followed his every move. There seemed to be no actual security in the Un Hotel only the cameras. He still didn't know his room number eight something something but he did know every twist and turn which lead him to the lounge and more importantly the bar.and none the more important. He navigated his way through the array of tables and chairs towards the bar where he shifted his way atop of a bar stool. He ordered a paloma from the bar and idly began sketching plans for a new reactor that he was currently tampering with. Amidst the encouragement of the cocktail and the particular issues of doing advance level physics on a small square of paper with a shitty hotel pen, he didn't notice the sound of heels tapping across the floor as they approached him. He didn't notice the distinctive sound of swishing fabric. He didn't notice until she cleared her throat behind him. A career as a superhero made it so that Tony wasn't easily surprised. He put down his pen and slowly turned over his shoulder towards the sound. Ink black hair fell to about her waist without a strand falling out of line. A simple black dress that halted slightly above the knees. Maybe ten no twenty years younger than him and most of the other stragglers left in the bar she still managed to command the room with a level of cool confidence. She was beautiful definitely but in the type of beauty that reminded Tony of some art piece in a museum, everything about her stated feel free to look but don’t touch. As their eyes met she gave a small smile and offered a hand. “Whitney Frost, I have an offer we’d like to make you Mr. Stark.” [/indent]