Hexaflexagon Member
STATUS: I teach my first online lecture today... this shouldn't be too hard right? 4 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 24 days ago
- Old Guild Username: Hexaflexagon
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
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4 yrs ago
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I teach my first online lecture today... this shouldn't be too hard right?
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9 yrs ago
Tout ce qui est fait n'est plus à faire
9 yrs ago
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."
9 yrs ago
"El amor es como el fuego. Suelen ver el humo los que están fuera antes que las llamas los que están dentro."
Bio
Hexaflexagon (Concept)
In geometry, flexagons are flat models, usually constructed by folding strips of paper, that can be flexed or folded in certain ways to reveal faces besides the two that were originally on the back and front.
Hexaflexagon (Person?)
Academic who somehow got conned into working for the Government. Been role-playing both on forums and TTRPGs for close to twenty years at this point. I'm like 99% retired from active RPing on the Guild, but I still like to poke my head onto here once in a while to make sure that I didn't leave the lights on.
Most Recent Posts
Hey look at that another post. In other news my only other character application. Cause anymore and none of these stories would get done. But this is a fun one I promise.
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Part 1
Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
Mexico
Despite Tony’s own experience in the dregs of high society, the executive suite of Un Hotel felt huge on a different scale of metrics entirely. It spanned the entire expanse of the top floor of the building, a labyrinthine complex of interconnected hallways and rooms. A women of southeast Asian descent dressed in a sleeveless black pullover stalked her way into the lounge and placed a pot of coffee onto the table. It took Tony a moment to notice that her arms were in fact cybernetic replacements, trained eyes catching the seems on the synthetic flesh.
“The coffee may be in your best interest.” Ms. Frost commented off-handedly as she sat down in a cube shaped chair, lines aggressively straight. Her attention turning away from Tony as she pressed a button on the side of the chair, holographic display flickering to life as she typed away on a hard light keyboard. She seemed perfectly at ease in her current environment blending in perfectly with the spotless walls and polished wooden floors that squealed with every shifting sole.
“Mister Stark.” Tony looked up, seeing the man across from him for the first time. “My name is Sunderland. You may have heard of me.” He wore a navy blue yukata open to the waist, broad chest splashed with specks of white hair, the stomach flat and rigid. Green eyes dark as the depths of the Schwarzwald.
“Avery Carlton Sunderland, President and CEO of the Sunderland Corporation, former four-star general and Supreme Allied Commander of NATO.” Tony listed in an unamused monotone as he poured some coffee into an unremarkable periwinkle coffee mug. “Ties to several criminal organizations including the Dai-Ichi Doku, Solntsevskaya Bratva, and Lucky Hand Triads among others.”
“Alleged connections Mister Stark.” Sunderland insisted running a large hand through his phantom white hair. “Such allegations were never proven.”
“Oh I remember now.” Tony started as he took a sip of the coffee limbs feeling like they were moving underwater. “The lead prosecutor died. Car accident wasn’t it? Wonder how much money it took for the police to look the other way?” As he felt the tension begin to increase Tony took another swig from his coffee to hide the smirk cracking across his face.
Sunderland smiled. “Business is business Mister Stark. Some of us fly around ‘saving the world’ and the rest of us try and make an honest living.”
“And your business now involves me?” Tony stated behind the rim of his mug.
“Something like that.” He snapped his fingers and Ms. Frost typed something into her holographic display as the lights in the room began to dim. Another display flickered to life showing a flickering satellite picture of large facility. “What you are currently looking at is one of our production houses in Kyoto. Last night at zero one hundred hours, an assailant destroyed a large section of our facility and made out with material sensitive to our corporation.”
“Still don’t see where I come in Sunderland. Call the police, or maybe one of your alleged associates. I’m sure they'd be willing to help you.” Tony suggested, though he already knew there was more there was always something more.
“I’d love to Mister Stark but if I did then we’d be forced to release this footage to the public.”
The still image transformed into recording taken from a security camera. It showed what Tony assumed to be a research floor consumed by fire and smoke. A group of scientist were running away, the camera automatically tracking their motion as they came to a locked door. Pounding on the glass they looked back in horror as a figure dressed in what appeared to be an advanced form of the his own armor stepped out of the smoke. Casually the ‘iron man’ raised his right hand and a bolt of energy was released slamming into the nearest scientist causing him to explode in a violent display of viscera. Tony fixated on the mouth’s of the scientist watching the silent screams as the short clip played on repeat
Sunderland face broke into one of unbridle amusement as the shift of power fell straight into his lap. “We know his name.”
Tony looked up at him without speaking.
“Ezekiel Stane, we hired him as a consultant on one of our projects. I’m told you were associates with his father Obadiah.”
The wall behind him shattered drywall kicking up into the air as he smashed his way through several rows of cubicles. He dug his fingers hard into the ground creating inch deep divots as he drag himself to a halt. His vision tilted and blurred as he looked down, the face of a poodle on a puppy calendar looking back up at him. His ears rang and he closed his eyes to block out the pain if only for a moment. Warnings flashed across his heads up display as the suit voiced its protest at the beating it was receiving.
╪ Armor compromised.
╪ Internal energy system failing
╪ Right thruster fifty percent.
He flicked the warnings away and pushed himself to his feet. He watched as a colossal silhouette step through the hole that he created. Plates of metal forged and pounded together far flung from the seamless design of his own suit. Glowing eyes of white like the high beams of a car peered down at him. A voice came from within the machine distorted and impossibly loud - a slow moving rockslide.
“You’re not getting away Stark.”
Stane ripped off another child-sized portion of wall and threw it overhand towards Tony. The suit’s targeting computer whirred to life almost immediately upon detecting the projectile. Data began flashing across the screen as it made mathematical calculations at the speed that only a supercomputer could before the reticule around the rock finally flashed green. Seemingly at the last possible moment Tony shot his hand upward and fired a pulse of energy from his gauntlet. The chunk of walls exploded into harmless superheated debris that spattered against and around tony.
Not waiting from the reprise he shot forward thrusters blaring straight towards Stane. Metal slammed against metal like an unholy car wreck as Tony smashed his fist into Stane’s chest plating. The force of the impact combined with the general top-heaviness of the Iron Monger suit, was enough to send the giant colossus onto its back. He landed atop driving a knee further downward as he leveled his gauntlet downward towards Stane’s head. It would of been so easy to just let it go. At this range even with the plating, Tony knew that Stane’s head would splatter like an egg slamming into the pavement.
The rage snaked through his body sinking its fangs in. He could do it. He could kill this man, this man that he had once called a friend. He could kill this man who had brought him only hell and torment, who had tried to kill his friends and family, who had tried to destroy his business. Nobody would care, nobody would mind. It would just be putting down another monster. One flick and it could all be over.
But dammit it all he couldn't.
At the last possible second he moved his hand and the pulse of energy punched a smoldering hole right next to Stane’s head. “Dammit Stane! This can end here. Nobody has to fucking die!”
“It aint that easy Stark.” The distorted voice responded and drove a fist upward knocking Tony away once more.
Tony realized that he had been idly tracing the perimeter of his mug in silence for what had to be at least a few minutes. “You could say that.”
Sunderland paid no mind to the delay as he leaned the light from the projection cast across the crevasses of his worn face. “What would the news think Mister Stark, if a so called ‘Iron Man’ was seen destroying the property and killing the employees of a competitor. We wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea would we? “
Something broke at that moment. Whatever last strand of restraint that was keeping him from flying off the handle broke as Sunderland’s smug grin of perfect white lasted just a fraction of a second too long. As he reached to pour himself another cup of coffee, he jerked his hand towards Sunderland sending a cascade of scalding hot liquid towards Sunderland’s face.
The retired general easily dodged it pivoting his body with ease never losing eye contact as the liquid splashed against the wall and dripped down writing unintelligible messages as it went. Tony was painfully aware that he know had the barrel of an Astra A-60 now pointed directly at his skull. Frost having produced the gun from seemingly out of the ether. As Sunderland readjusted himself in his seat, his gun-toting companion spoke her voice never changing from the smooth bored tones that she had introduced herself with.
“Everything is going to be okay Mister Stark, provided that you stop being an ass.”
He could escape. Nothing more than a sideways glance and he could activate the autopilot on the Suit that he and Happy had stashed in a farmhouse five miles out of town. It would be here within seconds and Happy would be alerted immediately to meet him at the extraction point. Judging by their location within the hotel and the general thickness of the walls, Ms. White would have less than one and a half seconds to react before the suit slammed into her and knocked the gun from her hands, before it deployed a smoke screen to allow him a chance to escape. He could get away and yet he figured they already knew that.
And yet there was something more. Something that was pushing him forward like an itch on an arm that had been entrapped in a fiberglass cast for weeks. Maybe it was the need for closure. Maybe it was some repressed desire for atonement for the past. And maybe it was the challenge, as this child of ghost he thought long since dead killed those with technology so apparently similar to his. As if he was calling him out. As if he was telling him to catch him if he could.
Slowly he placed the coffee pot down the table and looked at Sunderland. “What do you need?”
Sunderland smiled and brought his hands down upon his legs with a loud slap. “It’s simple Mister Stark. You and Miss Frost will be tasked with bringing Stane back to me alive. So that we can recover the research that he stole and then you can hand him over to whatever authority you may like.”
“I don’t need help.” Tony replied as he flicked his head towards the woman who still had a gun pointed at his head.
“Considered it an... insurance policy on my part.
A moment of silence passed and another. Finally Tony shrugged.
“When do I start?”
“The coffee may be in your best interest.” Ms. Frost commented off-handedly as she sat down in a cube shaped chair, lines aggressively straight. Her attention turning away from Tony as she pressed a button on the side of the chair, holographic display flickering to life as she typed away on a hard light keyboard. She seemed perfectly at ease in her current environment blending in perfectly with the spotless walls and polished wooden floors that squealed with every shifting sole.
“Mister Stark.” Tony looked up, seeing the man across from him for the first time. “My name is Sunderland. You may have heard of me.” He wore a navy blue yukata open to the waist, broad chest splashed with specks of white hair, the stomach flat and rigid. Green eyes dark as the depths of the Schwarzwald.
“Avery Carlton Sunderland, President and CEO of the Sunderland Corporation, former four-star general and Supreme Allied Commander of NATO.” Tony listed in an unamused monotone as he poured some coffee into an unremarkable periwinkle coffee mug. “Ties to several criminal organizations including the Dai-Ichi Doku, Solntsevskaya Bratva, and Lucky Hand Triads among others.”
“Alleged connections Mister Stark.” Sunderland insisted running a large hand through his phantom white hair. “Such allegations were never proven.”
“Oh I remember now.” Tony started as he took a sip of the coffee limbs feeling like they were moving underwater. “The lead prosecutor died. Car accident wasn’t it? Wonder how much money it took for the police to look the other way?” As he felt the tension begin to increase Tony took another swig from his coffee to hide the smirk cracking across his face.
Sunderland smiled. “Business is business Mister Stark. Some of us fly around ‘saving the world’ and the rest of us try and make an honest living.”
“And your business now involves me?” Tony stated behind the rim of his mug.
“Something like that.” He snapped his fingers and Ms. Frost typed something into her holographic display as the lights in the room began to dim. Another display flickered to life showing a flickering satellite picture of large facility. “What you are currently looking at is one of our production houses in Kyoto. Last night at zero one hundred hours, an assailant destroyed a large section of our facility and made out with material sensitive to our corporation.”
“Still don’t see where I come in Sunderland. Call the police, or maybe one of your alleged associates. I’m sure they'd be willing to help you.” Tony suggested, though he already knew there was more there was always something more.
“I’d love to Mister Stark but if I did then we’d be forced to release this footage to the public.”
The still image transformed into recording taken from a security camera. It showed what Tony assumed to be a research floor consumed by fire and smoke. A group of scientist were running away, the camera automatically tracking their motion as they came to a locked door. Pounding on the glass they looked back in horror as a figure dressed in what appeared to be an advanced form of the his own armor stepped out of the smoke. Casually the ‘iron man’ raised his right hand and a bolt of energy was released slamming into the nearest scientist causing him to explode in a violent display of viscera. Tony fixated on the mouth’s of the scientist watching the silent screams as the short clip played on repeat
Sunderland face broke into one of unbridle amusement as the shift of power fell straight into his lap. “We know his name.”
Tony looked up at him without speaking.
“Ezekiel Stane, we hired him as a consultant on one of our projects. I’m told you were associates with his father Obadiah.”
Nine Years Prior
The wall behind him shattered drywall kicking up into the air as he smashed his way through several rows of cubicles. He dug his fingers hard into the ground creating inch deep divots as he drag himself to a halt. His vision tilted and blurred as he looked down, the face of a poodle on a puppy calendar looking back up at him. His ears rang and he closed his eyes to block out the pain if only for a moment. Warnings flashed across his heads up display as the suit voiced its protest at the beating it was receiving.
╪ Armor compromised.
╪ Internal energy system failing
╪ Right thruster fifty percent.
He flicked the warnings away and pushed himself to his feet. He watched as a colossal silhouette step through the hole that he created. Plates of metal forged and pounded together far flung from the seamless design of his own suit. Glowing eyes of white like the high beams of a car peered down at him. A voice came from within the machine distorted and impossibly loud - a slow moving rockslide.
“You’re not getting away Stark.”
Stane ripped off another child-sized portion of wall and threw it overhand towards Tony. The suit’s targeting computer whirred to life almost immediately upon detecting the projectile. Data began flashing across the screen as it made mathematical calculations at the speed that only a supercomputer could before the reticule around the rock finally flashed green. Seemingly at the last possible moment Tony shot his hand upward and fired a pulse of energy from his gauntlet. The chunk of walls exploded into harmless superheated debris that spattered against and around tony.
Not waiting from the reprise he shot forward thrusters blaring straight towards Stane. Metal slammed against metal like an unholy car wreck as Tony smashed his fist into Stane’s chest plating. The force of the impact combined with the general top-heaviness of the Iron Monger suit, was enough to send the giant colossus onto its back. He landed atop driving a knee further downward as he leveled his gauntlet downward towards Stane’s head. It would of been so easy to just let it go. At this range even with the plating, Tony knew that Stane’s head would splatter like an egg slamming into the pavement.
The rage snaked through his body sinking its fangs in. He could do it. He could kill this man, this man that he had once called a friend. He could kill this man who had brought him only hell and torment, who had tried to kill his friends and family, who had tried to destroy his business. Nobody would care, nobody would mind. It would just be putting down another monster. One flick and it could all be over.
But dammit it all he couldn't.
At the last possible second he moved his hand and the pulse of energy punched a smoldering hole right next to Stane’s head. “Dammit Stane! This can end here. Nobody has to fucking die!”
“It aint that easy Stark.” The distorted voice responded and drove a fist upward knocking Tony away once more.
Tony realized that he had been idly tracing the perimeter of his mug in silence for what had to be at least a few minutes. “You could say that.”
Sunderland paid no mind to the delay as he leaned the light from the projection cast across the crevasses of his worn face. “What would the news think Mister Stark, if a so called ‘Iron Man’ was seen destroying the property and killing the employees of a competitor. We wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea would we? “
Something broke at that moment. Whatever last strand of restraint that was keeping him from flying off the handle broke as Sunderland’s smug grin of perfect white lasted just a fraction of a second too long. As he reached to pour himself another cup of coffee, he jerked his hand towards Sunderland sending a cascade of scalding hot liquid towards Sunderland’s face.
The retired general easily dodged it pivoting his body with ease never losing eye contact as the liquid splashed against the wall and dripped down writing unintelligible messages as it went. Tony was painfully aware that he know had the barrel of an Astra A-60 now pointed directly at his skull. Frost having produced the gun from seemingly out of the ether. As Sunderland readjusted himself in his seat, his gun-toting companion spoke her voice never changing from the smooth bored tones that she had introduced herself with.
“Everything is going to be okay Mister Stark, provided that you stop being an ass.”
He could escape. Nothing more than a sideways glance and he could activate the autopilot on the Suit that he and Happy had stashed in a farmhouse five miles out of town. It would be here within seconds and Happy would be alerted immediately to meet him at the extraction point. Judging by their location within the hotel and the general thickness of the walls, Ms. White would have less than one and a half seconds to react before the suit slammed into her and knocked the gun from her hands, before it deployed a smoke screen to allow him a chance to escape. He could get away and yet he figured they already knew that.
And yet there was something more. Something that was pushing him forward like an itch on an arm that had been entrapped in a fiberglass cast for weeks. Maybe it was the need for closure. Maybe it was some repressed desire for atonement for the past. And maybe it was the challenge, as this child of ghost he thought long since dead killed those with technology so apparently similar to his. As if he was calling him out. As if he was telling him to catch him if he could.
Slowly he placed the coffee pot down the table and looked at Sunderland. “What do you need?”
Sunderland smiled and brought his hands down upon his legs with a loud slap. “It’s simple Mister Stark. You and Miss Frost will be tasked with bringing Stane back to me alive. So that we can recover the research that he stole and then you can hand him over to whatever authority you may like.”
“I don’t need help.” Tony replied as he flicked his head towards the woman who still had a gun pointed at his head.
“Considered it an... insurance policy on my part.
A moment of silence passed and another. Finally Tony shrugged.
“When do I start?”
@HeySeuss@vietmyke@Mercenary Lord@Draken@AlexStarsion@Mike73
It's late. (I'm terrible sorry)I haven't proofread it and it probably sucks but that's okay. Because its finished!
*Proceeds to crawl into bed*
It's late. (I'm terrible sorry)I haven't proofread it and it probably sucks but that's okay. Because its finished!
*Proceeds to crawl into bed*
Ignore
They watched in stunned silence as the ship materialized into the sky above them. Nighttime sky suddenly filled with the looming silhouette leviathan sized ship as big maybe bigger than the Vangar ship that had crashed. If the Princess was an overabundance of Mist, the craft above it was on the other end of the spectrum cold and foreign to the world and all that stood around it. It produce a metallic groan once, twice and finally a third time that seemed to worm its way into their heads, rattling and scratching at the skull.
Objects began to be jettisoned from unseen launch ports, they came soaring towards the ground like meteors but as they approached the ground and could be seen with more detail they appeared to be robotic entities similar to those that Daryll and Zimmy had dispatched a moment earlier. But where they faced one these were several dozen. The landed into the crater throwing up dirt and debris into the air as they did. And with another metallic groan from the ship this one at a slightly lower frequency like buckling steel, dozens of glowing eyes stuttered to life around them. And one by one they stood up from their personal craters and methodically and slowly made their way towards the group, bulldozing their way through anything that happened to be unlucky enough to be in their way.
“Ya don’t fucking say.” Setzer muttered his voice noticeably lacking its usual bounce and boom.
It was easy sometimes to forget that Setzer held an impressive number of top marks on almost every combat simulation back in the Citadel. Maybe it was to overcompensate for the fact that he had a lackluster magical capacity or that as a country bumpkin that had to walk ten miles a day to school because his alcoholic father refused to drive him, book learnin’ wasn’t really something that he was all that attuned to. Combat though, combat was something that came naturally to him. Combat came from the bloodied knuckles of schoolground brawls and the bob and weave of dodging the screaming bottle of whiskey tossed at his head. It was the primal dance that once you knew the beat of it was hard to dance to anything else.
He took in the current situation around them. Counting steadily approaching eyes, how long it had taken them to get from where they had come in, to the other side of the crater where the Princess’ shuttle had crashed. The truck was further out from there but at least the trees could provide them some overhead cover from the airship above. With the current group currently outmanned and surrounded everything was coming up red. This was the kind of situation that their instructors had warned them time and time again to not get themselves into. It was five different ways of fucked up and Setzer was loving every second of it.
“Here’s the gameplan. Shortest route to the truck is through the thick of these mechanical shits. We punch a hole and run like hell. Hopefully before that big old cruiser points its guns at us.” Setzer explained causally like he was discussing dinner plans and not a near-suicidal rush through robot hell. “Oh and Princess you're gonna want to ride me.”
“What!” Colette began angrily.
“Phrasing sorry. Buut maybe like that later. You know if you're up to it” He explained as another word made his sword disappear and picked the girl up in a Fireman’s carry with as much ease as one might a sack of flour. She slammed her first against his back but he didn’t even seem to notice all that much. He shifted his footing adjusting to the weight now placed on your shoulder. “You know you're lucky you're as light as you look.”
Colette punched him again this time hard enough to make him flinched a little. “Just make sure we don’t die, you fucking idiot.”
“Well you heard the lady.” Setzer told the rest of the time and without anything resembling a warning or a ready sign he broke into a run heading straight in the direction that the truck was in. The mechanized infantry seemed to react to the movement and suddenly broke out into a run concealed thrusters on their backs propelling them forward with great speeds. Setzer ran a zig-zag pattern through the ruins as cannon shots exploded around them. He picked up the sounds of fighting as the rest of the team pushed forward through the debris field but he dared not to look backwards keeping his eye dead foward. Focused on maneuvering through the rubble and navigating the pockets of heavily focused mist that could prove even more fatal than the robots.
A pile of broken metal exploded to the left of them as one of the machines came barreling in ahead blocking the path. There was no way in hell that Setzer was turning ahead and so he pushed forward even as it raised its arm-cannon and began charging a shot. Setzer closed his eyes ready to began a pulverized mess of meat when he felt it. Before it was an unnatural change of pressure but now as close as he was to the source it felt like all his organs were vibrating getting faster and faster ready to explode. And then all that pressure was released as a blinding light was released next to his head and slammed into the chest of the robot punching a hole clean through it and sending it down onto one knee.
He titled his eyes upward at Colette hand raised sweat formed at the brow, panting in short uneven breaths. “Nice.”
“It’s not dead. Keep running you idiot!” And true to her words the mechanical contraption was already beginning to rise again sputtering to life like a giant hole through its chest was a mild inconvenience at best. Setzer pushed past it and kept on running dodged and outstretched claw as it shot out in a desperate attempt to slash outward at him. Scrambling he made it up the other side of the crater and pushed into the forest pumping mist into his body to ease the screaming pain in his legs from the continued dead sprint. He could hear the sounds of his teammates continually yelling status reports in his ear and the sounds of trees snapping behind him as the robots pushed ahead after them.
He saw the flash out of the corner of his eye from somewhere high above but didn’t put two and two together until a cluster of trees slightly ahead and to the left of him exploded into a ball of fire. The blast was powerful enough to throw him off of his fight and sending him crashing into a tree trunk, the princess having been knocked away in the commotion.
His eyes opened as his ears ring and the world around him shook. He could feel the heart around him as the surrounding trees had burst into flame. Pushing himself to his feet ignoring the hot soil burning his hands, he peered through the smoke looking for Colette. Frantically searching through the smoke, he felt the ground shake as another shell slammed into the earth further off the mark this time. Finally he found her back on the ground, hand outstretched another shell mere inches away from her face suspended and floating in space. The Mist churning and fluctuating around it.
Pushing his shock away he ran forward and pulled her out from underneath the shell.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good. Let’s go.” She nodded weakly and made a motion with her hand and like a fist just punched the shell it was propelled back upward into the sky where it slammed into the ship that was now firing down at them. The explosion seemed to shimmer across some sort of barrier to little effect than possible making their mysterious attackers more angry than they already were. Scooping her up Setzer kept on pushing forward.
---
Somehow some way they made it through the explosions and the robots to where they had left the truck safely tucked away. They seemed to be out of the ship’s firing range as no more shells had fallen for the last several minutes, but the robots still followed them heavily and without reprise. Leading the pack as it was, Setzer and Colette arrived first. He quickly ran over to the truck and deposited her into the bed. He turned back towards the forest where his allies were still coming through.
“Listen you know how to drive stick?”
“I’m a princess not a fucking hermit. Yes I know how to drive stick.”
“Good. The keys in the ignition start her up and be ready to move quickly.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Buy us time.”
And with that Setzer conjured up his sword and walked forward watching intently as a pair of brightly glowing eyes burst through the clearing. The robot with the same hole in its chest. The same one that had been following the pair since the start of this clusterfuck. Setzer grinned and charged.
When he reached striking distance he brought the sword down in a huge arc and with great speed. The robot pushed its right arm upwards in response and countered the blow mid-swing. Setzer expected for the blade to slash through as it did nearly everything else. A blow with that much power usually enough to bring down weaker opponents upon contact. This one sunk barely an inch into the robotic appendage.
“Shit-” Was all Setzer managed to get out as the robot smashed him to the side with its arm.
He was sent sprawling to the ground eating dirt a few feet away. Pushing himself up he ran again at the robot this time learning from his mistakes and swinging blow the arm into the chest. Similar result occurred as the sword hit home but the robot didn’t even register the blow and balled fist slammed into his head once again sending him sprawling to floor.
He tasted the blood in his mouth, he could see stars and was pretty sure he could speak five more languages than he could previously but he managed to push himself back up. He flashed back to Zimmy and Daryll fighting the robot. He remembered how the limb had been served. A plan formed. He concentrated and focused on his blade, focused on the Mist around him. On the individual molecules and started to make them shake and shimmer, and shake and shimmer. And soon the blade-began to glow with an intense heat.
The robot raised its cannon arm and fired, using mist-enhanced speed he dodged to the left. It fired he dodged again always moving closer and closer and closer. As he drew into striking distance the arm shot out to finish it. Setzer brought the blade up and blocked with one of the sides, muscle buckling underneath the weight as he continued running sliding down the arm and firmly rooting the blade into armpit area of the robot. Screaming out in frustration he pushed and he pushed, the superheated blade having an slightly easier time to push through the metal and with great effort the blade came free from the other side severing the arm from the body.
“Take that you-” He felt something grab the back of his shirt and wrench him backwards before throwing him to the ground. The wind was knocked out of him as he peered up at the one armed robot looking down at him. It raised one of its colossal metal legs and brought it down hard intending to crush Setzer into a bloody pulp. Reflexly the warrior raised his sword into the air. The blade pierced through the foot but the foot kept on coming down towards him. Setzer felt the pommel of his sword dig into his chest as the robot pushed down common to a halt about three quarters of a way down the blade pushing downward.
Setzer yelled in angry protest and pumped what little reservoir of mist he had left into the muscle in his arms and he pushed with a superhuman strength. With grip on the sword as if he was about perform some strange version of the caber toss, he pushed his arm upward and felt as the leg of the robot was pushed upward, sword getting out the other side of the piercing foot slamming headfirst into the large robot bearing over him. The robot fell over from the impact and Setzer got up and ripped the sword from its head and just started beating it over and over again. The distorted sounds of blunted steel smashing over blunted steel as the robot was slowly crushed beneath the blows.
“AND. STAY. DEAD. YOU. FLAMING. SHIT.” Setzer yelled at the robot and with one final blow that crushed what was left of the head, the glowing eyes turned dark. Panting, tired and full of pain and a wounded pride he looked up into the forest where at least a dozen more glowing eyes were fastly approaching. The rest of his allies at this point were inside or nearly inside the truck at this point.
He made the sword vanish and began sprinting towards the truck despite the pain and yelling at the top of his lungs as he did. “Drive! Drive! Drive!”
Objects began to be jettisoned from unseen launch ports, they came soaring towards the ground like meteors but as they approached the ground and could be seen with more detail they appeared to be robotic entities similar to those that Daryll and Zimmy had dispatched a moment earlier. But where they faced one these were several dozen. The landed into the crater throwing up dirt and debris into the air as they did. And with another metallic groan from the ship this one at a slightly lower frequency like buckling steel, dozens of glowing eyes stuttered to life around them. And one by one they stood up from their personal craters and methodically and slowly made their way towards the group, bulldozing their way through anything that happened to be unlucky enough to be in their way.
"Well, fuck. Setzer, now's the chance to show me that your pretty body is good for more than just looking at."
“Ya don’t fucking say.” Setzer muttered his voice noticeably lacking its usual bounce and boom.
It was easy sometimes to forget that Setzer held an impressive number of top marks on almost every combat simulation back in the Citadel. Maybe it was to overcompensate for the fact that he had a lackluster magical capacity or that as a country bumpkin that had to walk ten miles a day to school because his alcoholic father refused to drive him, book learnin’ wasn’t really something that he was all that attuned to. Combat though, combat was something that came naturally to him. Combat came from the bloodied knuckles of schoolground brawls and the bob and weave of dodging the screaming bottle of whiskey tossed at his head. It was the primal dance that once you knew the beat of it was hard to dance to anything else.
He took in the current situation around them. Counting steadily approaching eyes, how long it had taken them to get from where they had come in, to the other side of the crater where the Princess’ shuttle had crashed. The truck was further out from there but at least the trees could provide them some overhead cover from the airship above. With the current group currently outmanned and surrounded everything was coming up red. This was the kind of situation that their instructors had warned them time and time again to not get themselves into. It was five different ways of fucked up and Setzer was loving every second of it.
“Here’s the gameplan. Shortest route to the truck is through the thick of these mechanical shits. We punch a hole and run like hell. Hopefully before that big old cruiser points its guns at us.” Setzer explained causally like he was discussing dinner plans and not a near-suicidal rush through robot hell. “Oh and Princess you're gonna want to ride me.”
“What!” Colette began angrily.
“Phrasing sorry. Buut maybe like that later. You know if you're up to it” He explained as another word made his sword disappear and picked the girl up in a Fireman’s carry with as much ease as one might a sack of flour. She slammed her first against his back but he didn’t even seem to notice all that much. He shifted his footing adjusting to the weight now placed on your shoulder. “You know you're lucky you're as light as you look.”
Colette punched him again this time hard enough to make him flinched a little. “Just make sure we don’t die, you fucking idiot.”
“Well you heard the lady.” Setzer told the rest of the time and without anything resembling a warning or a ready sign he broke into a run heading straight in the direction that the truck was in. The mechanized infantry seemed to react to the movement and suddenly broke out into a run concealed thrusters on their backs propelling them forward with great speeds. Setzer ran a zig-zag pattern through the ruins as cannon shots exploded around them. He picked up the sounds of fighting as the rest of the team pushed forward through the debris field but he dared not to look backwards keeping his eye dead foward. Focused on maneuvering through the rubble and navigating the pockets of heavily focused mist that could prove even more fatal than the robots.
A pile of broken metal exploded to the left of them as one of the machines came barreling in ahead blocking the path. There was no way in hell that Setzer was turning ahead and so he pushed forward even as it raised its arm-cannon and began charging a shot. Setzer closed his eyes ready to began a pulverized mess of meat when he felt it. Before it was an unnatural change of pressure but now as close as he was to the source it felt like all his organs were vibrating getting faster and faster ready to explode. And then all that pressure was released as a blinding light was released next to his head and slammed into the chest of the robot punching a hole clean through it and sending it down onto one knee.
He titled his eyes upward at Colette hand raised sweat formed at the brow, panting in short uneven breaths. “Nice.”
“It’s not dead. Keep running you idiot!” And true to her words the mechanical contraption was already beginning to rise again sputtering to life like a giant hole through its chest was a mild inconvenience at best. Setzer pushed past it and kept on running dodged and outstretched claw as it shot out in a desperate attempt to slash outward at him. Scrambling he made it up the other side of the crater and pushed into the forest pumping mist into his body to ease the screaming pain in his legs from the continued dead sprint. He could hear the sounds of his teammates continually yelling status reports in his ear and the sounds of trees snapping behind him as the robots pushed ahead after them.
He saw the flash out of the corner of his eye from somewhere high above but didn’t put two and two together until a cluster of trees slightly ahead and to the left of him exploded into a ball of fire. The blast was powerful enough to throw him off of his fight and sending him crashing into a tree trunk, the princess having been knocked away in the commotion.
His eyes opened as his ears ring and the world around him shook. He could feel the heart around him as the surrounding trees had burst into flame. Pushing himself to his feet ignoring the hot soil burning his hands, he peered through the smoke looking for Colette. Frantically searching through the smoke, he felt the ground shake as another shell slammed into the earth further off the mark this time. Finally he found her back on the ground, hand outstretched another shell mere inches away from her face suspended and floating in space. The Mist churning and fluctuating around it.
Pushing his shock away he ran forward and pulled her out from underneath the shell.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good. Let’s go.” She nodded weakly and made a motion with her hand and like a fist just punched the shell it was propelled back upward into the sky where it slammed into the ship that was now firing down at them. The explosion seemed to shimmer across some sort of barrier to little effect than possible making their mysterious attackers more angry than they already were. Scooping her up Setzer kept on pushing forward.
---
Somehow some way they made it through the explosions and the robots to where they had left the truck safely tucked away. They seemed to be out of the ship’s firing range as no more shells had fallen for the last several minutes, but the robots still followed them heavily and without reprise. Leading the pack as it was, Setzer and Colette arrived first. He quickly ran over to the truck and deposited her into the bed. He turned back towards the forest where his allies were still coming through.
“Listen you know how to drive stick?”
“I’m a princess not a fucking hermit. Yes I know how to drive stick.”
“Good. The keys in the ignition start her up and be ready to move quickly.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Buy us time.”
And with that Setzer conjured up his sword and walked forward watching intently as a pair of brightly glowing eyes burst through the clearing. The robot with the same hole in its chest. The same one that had been following the pair since the start of this clusterfuck. Setzer grinned and charged.
When he reached striking distance he brought the sword down in a huge arc and with great speed. The robot pushed its right arm upwards in response and countered the blow mid-swing. Setzer expected for the blade to slash through as it did nearly everything else. A blow with that much power usually enough to bring down weaker opponents upon contact. This one sunk barely an inch into the robotic appendage.
“Shit-” Was all Setzer managed to get out as the robot smashed him to the side with its arm.
He was sent sprawling to the ground eating dirt a few feet away. Pushing himself up he ran again at the robot this time learning from his mistakes and swinging blow the arm into the chest. Similar result occurred as the sword hit home but the robot didn’t even register the blow and balled fist slammed into his head once again sending him sprawling to floor.
He tasted the blood in his mouth, he could see stars and was pretty sure he could speak five more languages than he could previously but he managed to push himself back up. He flashed back to Zimmy and Daryll fighting the robot. He remembered how the limb had been served. A plan formed. He concentrated and focused on his blade, focused on the Mist around him. On the individual molecules and started to make them shake and shimmer, and shake and shimmer. And soon the blade-began to glow with an intense heat.
The robot raised its cannon arm and fired, using mist-enhanced speed he dodged to the left. It fired he dodged again always moving closer and closer and closer. As he drew into striking distance the arm shot out to finish it. Setzer brought the blade up and blocked with one of the sides, muscle buckling underneath the weight as he continued running sliding down the arm and firmly rooting the blade into armpit area of the robot. Screaming out in frustration he pushed and he pushed, the superheated blade having an slightly easier time to push through the metal and with great effort the blade came free from the other side severing the arm from the body.
“Take that you-” He felt something grab the back of his shirt and wrench him backwards before throwing him to the ground. The wind was knocked out of him as he peered up at the one armed robot looking down at him. It raised one of its colossal metal legs and brought it down hard intending to crush Setzer into a bloody pulp. Reflexly the warrior raised his sword into the air. The blade pierced through the foot but the foot kept on coming down towards him. Setzer felt the pommel of his sword dig into his chest as the robot pushed down common to a halt about three quarters of a way down the blade pushing downward.
Setzer yelled in angry protest and pumped what little reservoir of mist he had left into the muscle in his arms and he pushed with a superhuman strength. With grip on the sword as if he was about perform some strange version of the caber toss, he pushed his arm upward and felt as the leg of the robot was pushed upward, sword getting out the other side of the piercing foot slamming headfirst into the large robot bearing over him. The robot fell over from the impact and Setzer got up and ripped the sword from its head and just started beating it over and over again. The distorted sounds of blunted steel smashing over blunted steel as the robot was slowly crushed beneath the blows.
“AND. STAY. DEAD. YOU. FLAMING. SHIT.” Setzer yelled at the robot and with one final blow that crushed what was left of the head, the glowing eyes turned dark. Panting, tired and full of pain and a wounded pride he looked up into the forest where at least a dozen more glowing eyes were fastly approaching. The rest of his allies at this point were inside or nearly inside the truck at this point.
He made the sword vanish and began sprinting towards the truck despite the pain and yelling at the top of his lungs as he did. “Drive! Drive! Drive!”
Part 1
"Porque la paga del pecado es muerte"
~ Romans 6:23
Mexico, Undisclosed Location
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 fun 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 in the report. That you promised 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.”
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 fun 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 in the report. That you promised 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.”
I R O N M A N
" I promise I will explain it all when we get back. I will draw you pictures, I will use puppets...but for right now, you have to just listen to me."
A N T H O N Y E D W A R D S T A R K ♦ M A Y 2 9, 1 9 7 0 (47) ♦ M A L E ♦ C H A O T I C G O O D
C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:
As I see it being Iron Man is something that Tony gets. It's a fairly simple job all things considered you punch, shoot, blow up, or otherwise incapacitate the bad guys. Then you smile for the cameras, get the key to the city, and call it a day. What Tony Stark doesn't get is being a functional human being. And so thus begins the tale that I would like to tell simply entitled STARK VERSUS LIFE. It's a little different with less of the focus being on his actions as Iron Man, and more on him trying to get the rest of his shit together. He's almost fifty and the longest he's ever been able to hold a relationship is about two weeks. He is still a raging alcoholic despite several attempts to go clean. Not to mention whenever he wants to retire from the whole super hero business somebody blows his house up. In the end it's a superhero story or at least a story about a superhero, but one told through the lens of Bukowski or Lowry.
N O T E S:
Tony was an original member of the Avengers underneath A.R.G.U.S. But is now something of a 'reserve member' more on his own wishes than anything else. He does offer his services though as a 'consultant' of sorts to the various superhero groups of the world providing logistical assistance.
I R O N M A N
" I promise I will explain it all when we get back. I will draw you pictures, I will use puppets...but for right now, you have to just listen to me."
A N T H O N Y E D W A R D S T A R K ♦ M A Y 2 9, 1 9 7 0 (47) ♦ M A L E ♦ C H A O T I C G O O D
C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:
As I see it being Iron Man is something that Tony gets. It's a fairly simple job all things considered you punch, shoot, blow up, or otherwise incapacitate the bad guys. Then you smile for the cameras, get the key to the city, and call it a day. What Tony Stark doesn't get is being a functional human being. And so thus begins the tale that I would like to tell simply entitled STARK VERSUS LIFE. It's a little different with less of the focus being on his actions as Iron Man, and more on him trying to get the rest of his shit together. He's almost fifty and the longest he's ever been able to hold a relationship is about two weeks. He is still a raging alcoholic despite several attempts to go clean. Not to mention whenever he wants to retire from the whole super hero business somebody blows his house up. In the end it's a superhero story or at least a story about a superhero, but one told through the lens of Bukowski or Lowry.
The first tale begins in Tijuana or close enough to it. Following a sampling of the local flavor that begins one bad trip both figuratively and literally.
The first tale begins in Tijuana or close enough to it. Following a sampling of the local flavor that begins one bad trip both figuratively and literally.
N O T E S:
Tony was an original member of the Avengers underneath A.R.G.U.S. But is now something of a 'reserve member' more on his own wishes than anything else. He does offer his services though as a 'consultant' of sorts to the various superhero groups of the world providing logistical assistance.
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