Eli Pride is Elizabeth Bennet (hybristic) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-04-29 18:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | elizabeth bennet, iron man |
Who: Eli and Anton Iron Man
What: Iron Man to the rescue!
Where: Smack in the middle of Downtown, with lots of cameras and observers
When: Total timeline fuzziness here to say this evening
Warnings: None
Anton Sparke lived by a few life mottos. Perhaps one of the most important ones was “when Preston’s away, Anton will play.” And not play like he did when Preston was actually around. Preston actively discouraged most of Anton’s extra curricular activities. And none so much as the damned suit. It made sense, he understood what the worries were. And for the past few months he’d been working on those worries.
Anton and the Intern had been working on a solution to the stealth problem. The suit wouldn’t do much good if it didn’t have some kind of stealth capabilities. It needed to sneak up on people, it needed to do it while NOT getting the attention of the military. Intern had already had a rough run in with them, and Anton was not anxious to repeat that.
The times they were-a-changing. The combination of a slight redesign, plasma technology, and Intern’s ability had put quite the stealth mode on the suit and Anton was anxious to try it out. Too anxious. He hemmed and hawed for about five seconds before he decided to take it out. It was that five second decisions that had him completely off the radar of the national guard and whoever else was snooping and taking a high speed jaunt over the rooftops of the city, and just because he could he landed on top of 1201 Third Avenue, the second tallest skyscraper in Seattle, and also the home of Sparke Industries. He was testing out his imaging at this point, and while landing on the tallest point in town might be the best idea for testing, he wasn’t stupid. If he broke the Columbia Center building he’d be in more than just hot water.
Eli was out on a job, one that had absolutely nothing to do with coffee or procuring gourmet tea blends. EIT’s legwork in Seattle was mainly handled by Drake, and Eli knew he was no expert in the field. But Drake had his hands quite full, and Eli was attempting to find a location for one very large machine. The problem was, quite bluntly, that the machine required a prison. It did not require standard “storage,” as a person could not be kept in such a place. This meant his search, by necessity, had led him toward the less desirable part of Seattle.
Eli drove away from Rainier, where he had been inspecting locations, and past 1201 Third Avenue without any knowledge of the car that was trailing him. It was a sleek vehicle, one that did not stand out due to its make or model, but it was trailing him. Inside, the men collected were hired guns, dispatched by one of the men Eli had spoken to that evening. The man had, unbeknown to Eli, taken an interest in Eli’s search for secure cell space, and he’d sent the men to find out what Eli wanted to hide in said cells.
From a high vantage point, the red lasers on their scopes were visible as they neared the light at the corner. Eli, however, was oblivious to any danger. Frank Sinatra was playing on the car radio, and he was smoking a cigarette with the window open, just as the red light marked the back of his head for easy targeting.
It was mostly happenstance that Anton decided to eyeball the two cars below. They seemed normal enough until saw the tell tale red lights coming from the car behind. He looked down and saw the disturbing sight and knew immediately what he’d do. Well this would likely cause a stir. That was his last thought before he dove off of the building headfirst gaining speed the closer to the ground that he got. His hands were flat at his side to help him gain the velocity necessary to make the entrance he was hoping to make.
Anton was cutting it pretty close, before he twisted and turned a handful of feet above the vehicle of whoever had their sights trained on the man in the other car. He landed with a crushing sound on the hood of the car with one knee down and his head curled down before he stood up directly where he’d landed with surprising grace (despite the sizable dent in the hood, but that was more to do with weight and the speed with which he hit the car, than any sort of physical harm on Anton’s person at all).
Anton stepped down from the hood of the car and ignored the hollering of the idiots in the car. The red lights were now on him, and that was just laughable. “Really? You’re gonna shoot me now?” he said, the robotic voice sounding sarcastic despite the fact that it hardly sounded human.
Eli did not notice the man barreling toward the vehicle behind him, but he certainly heard the sound that the hood of the car made as it crumbled. He was still at the light, unaware of any impending danger to his person, and he didn’t hesitate before reaching for Drake’s gun in the glove box. He was out of the car in a moment, pointing the weapon unsteadily at the man - no, suit. He was no expert marksman, but even he couldn’t miss the thing that was jumping down from the car hood. He did not, however, have a chance to fire.
The men in the now-crushed car opened fire on Iron-Man - Eli recognized Preston’s remote controlled robot, then - and Eli ducked with a long string of curses that was more American than British. Bullets pinged off the robot, and he hissed as one burned his side as it grazed him. The men in the car were moving now, and it was only a moment before one had taken his gone and grabbed him from behind. He put up his arms, angry at himself for concentrating on a wound that was insignificant. “The bloody robot is going to stamp us both out,” he hissed at the man who held him, and who was shaking the gun toward Iron Man as if it was going to do something meaningful.
Around them, people screamed and sirens rang in the far off distance.
Anton stood there, quite bored, while the men shot at him. However his suit did plenty to keep them from actually hurting him, he was a little annoyed at the scratches he would probably have to detail. Seriously. “We can do this all day...” he said as he extended his hand, and with seemingly very little effort, a bolt of blue shot out of the device on his hand and with a singe knocked the gun out of one of the other men’s hand.
Anton was busying himself with that when he noticed the man from the other car was momentarily distracted and then taken it upon himself to take a hostage.
“The bloody robot has a name first of all,” Anton said pointing his “robot” hand at Eli. As he closed a bit more distance the jerk holding the gun continued his flailing. This was not an ideal situation at all. He directed his attention back to the man holding the gun, “That, was a really bad idea by the way, this isn’t a bank heist the hostage shtick isn’t going to do you much good. It’s really bad manners to shoot a man while he’s waiting at a stoplight, as if that isn’t one of the single most annoying things to do anyway.”
Eli almost rolled his eyes. Wonderful. The bloody robot had a sense of humor. Precisely what he needed in a moment when his life was in imminent danger. “Do you think you could approach this with less levity?” he asked of the robot, who had not actually introduced himself. He was quite certain the man behind him, the one with the gun, was likely to piss himself soon. “I’ve nothing to steal, and the robot clearly does not care for me. Do, bugger off?” he requested. There were enough people surrounding the fracas now that there was no way it would go unnoticed on the news and media, and Eli realized there was, really, no solution to be had.
“You’ve nowhere to run, and killing me will only earn you a heftier sentence,” Eli tried to explain to the man, who then threw him aside in favor of running at the bloody robot full tilt, bullets flying. “Oh, honestly.”
Anton considered it for a moment, “Actually I don’t think I can. You see...That guy wants to shoot one or both of us, and frankly the idea that he’ll shoot either of us is ridiculous.” He was fairly certain that all this small talk was likely just confusing the man with the gun and really he almost felt sorry for him. Until he started shooting at him. Again. It just wasn’t safe to open fire in a crowd of people like that. He decided to make his job easier and met him as he walked toward him. His arm came out and grabbed the man by his shirt, at that point it was easy to take the gun and hold it out of reach. “Kids shouldn’t play with Dad’s guns. Come on now,” he said as moved his head in closer, just inches from his face. “Your boss gonna be mad you let him go to attack me instead?” He looked back to Eli, “Why’d this guy want to kill you? You already said you had nothing to steal.”
“I’ve no idea,” Eli said, but then he remembered the car as one that had been parked at the last warehouse he’d stopped at. Realizing raised his brows, but he didn’t voice it. “I’ve no idea,” he repeated, listening as the sirens came closer. “I do believe you should go,” he said, and moving closer he lowered his voice. “And if you want people to believe you’re a robot, you want to work on having less personality, love,” he said, hand on the blood dampening his shirt at his side.
If a “robot” could look surprised, Anton would have. He wasn’t sure he appreciated the advice or the endearment, or being called a robot. But he managed to curb the ‘schooling’ for the time being. “Where’s the fun in people believing I’m a robot, that story never works out. Though it is fun to tell it on occasion. Kind of like the old ‘the checks in the mail’ gag.” He knew the commotion was getting a bit closer and sooner rather than later everyone would be there to see the spectacle. He looked back at Eli, “You’re alright?” he asked about his injury, because leaving a man to die wasn’t going to help anyone.
“I will be, yes, but you will not if they manage to get their hands on you. A suit like that is rather more impressive than dressing up as a Bat,” Eli said. “Do send my regards to Anton,” he added, quiet enough to only be heard by the thing in front of him. Cameras were snapping and men in blue were fighting their way through the crowd. “A distraction, perhaps?” he asked, giving the “robot” one last look before yelling, loudly and clutching his side in a show of dramatics that drew the police in his direction for a moment.
Oh well that was just obnoxious. Anton wanted to stay and pout...And he wanted to know who this guy was. And he wanted to know just what the fuck was going on. What exactly had just happened? And most importantly of course the suit was more impressive than dressing up like a God Damn Bat. But the guy was making a scene and before he did find himself in hot water already he needed to get out of there. So he turned up the heat, made sure he had enough clearance around him and then he had liftoff and just as quickly was gone into the night sky. It was bright, and loud, and showy. Just like Anton.