[It's a good thing Tony can't bring himself to be surprised by anything anymore, because giant killer plants might have just done it. As it is, he just takes half a moment to wonder how plants are even achieving semi-sentience as he gets his armor.
He mostly keeps to the air for better mobility, and tightly focused repulsor fire seems to cut through the vines pretty well. Being encased in metal isn't hurting either, though some of the red and gold is starting to go missing in patches thanks to a couple acid shots he couldn't quite duck in time. Tony's honestly kind of annoyed about that.
He's even more annoyed that the plant seems to be working him out. A good handful of vines whip his way, and while he concentrates on taking them out with well-place repulsor shots, another vine sneaks up from underneath to wrap around his ankle. He tries to twist around enough to get clear aim on it, but the vine jerks him off balance, then tightens enough that the metal actually starts to give slightly.
All Tony can manage is a frustrated] Oh, come on -- [before he's yanked hard towards the ground.]
iv. attraction repellent
[Tony's had a not insignificant amount of experience with mood-altering substances in his life. Safe to say that he knows something weird is going on, but he can't place what or why. It's incredibly irritating up until he forgets to think about it, which then annoys him again in a constant, confusing loop. Tony's brain is a weird enough place without extra help.
He's taken to wandering this new, weird town in an attempt to distract himself, but the distraction might be working a little too well. Tony's completely not paying attention, which is probably why he trips right over something. The only thing that keeps him from ending up nose-down on the street is the hand that suddenly catches his arm.
Tony blinks as he's pulled to a stop, then stares down at the hand on his arm.]
Oh hey, that's nice. [He pats his rescuer's hand almost fondly.] You're nice.
v. network - text; un: iron.man
So does anyone know if there's a machine shop or something around here? Acetylene torch? Screwdriver? Paperclip?
Asking for a friend.
vi. wildcard
[Have another idea? Hit me. Will match prose or brackets.]
Tony Stark | MCU
[It's a good thing Tony can't bring himself to be surprised by anything anymore, because giant killer plants might have just done it. As it is, he just takes half a moment to wonder how plants are even achieving semi-sentience as he gets his armor.
He mostly keeps to the air for better mobility, and tightly focused repulsor fire seems to cut through the vines pretty well. Being encased in metal isn't hurting either, though some of the red and gold is starting to go missing in patches thanks to a couple acid shots he couldn't quite duck in time. Tony's honestly kind of annoyed about that.
He's even more annoyed that the plant seems to be working him out. A good handful of vines whip his way, and while he concentrates on taking them out with well-place repulsor shots, another vine sneaks up from underneath to wrap around his ankle. He tries to twist around enough to get clear aim on it, but the vine jerks him off balance, then tightens enough that the metal actually starts to give slightly.
All Tony can manage is a frustrated] Oh, come on -- [before he's yanked hard towards the ground.]
iv. attraction repellent
[Tony's had a not insignificant amount of experience with mood-altering substances in his life. Safe to say that he knows something weird is going on, but he can't place what or why. It's incredibly irritating up until he forgets to think about it, which then annoys him again in a constant, confusing loop. Tony's brain is a weird enough place without extra help.
He's taken to wandering this new, weird town in an attempt to distract himself, but the distraction might be working a little too well. Tony's completely not paying attention, which is probably why he trips right over something. The only thing that keeps him from ending up nose-down on the street is the hand that suddenly catches his arm.
Tony blinks as he's pulled to a stop, then stares down at the hand on his arm.]
Oh hey, that's nice. [He pats his rescuer's hand almost fondly.] You're nice.
v. network - text; un: iron.man
So does anyone know if there's a machine shop or something around here? Acetylene torch? Screwdriver? Paperclip?
Asking for a friend.
vi. wildcard
[Have another idea? Hit me. Will match prose or brackets.]