"Now I see. The demon is me."
Lisa May Stark is so much more than the child she used to be when she and her father were kidnapped in Afghanistan five years ago. She's Iron Man's daughter, she's the Red Raven, she's, well, you know who she is...
might be a sinner and i might be a saint i'd like to be proud, but somehow i'm ashamed sweet little baby in a world full of pain i gotta be honest, i don't know if i could take it r.i.p. 2 my youth ─── the neighbourhood
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stark manor august 13, 2016 — september 1, 2016 ( third person point of view )
In the middle of Queens, Michael Allan sits on a table with a metal brace embedded in his spine and a locket in hand. He gave up hiding one, but the other... he's not quite ready to be transparent with that one yet. His dark thumb slowly strokes over the engraved circle of the locket, his peach lips twisting in a grimace.
"You make them pay." He hears a voice say so far away, "Make. Them. Pay."
And he won't break a promise. He never breaks a promise.
"I can finish the next order, but," Phineas, the tinker of the crew who sits across the room, sadly shakes his head at their new loss, "Without any new materials from that truck..."
"We still have enough to do the Gargan deal." Michael speaks up plainly, his eyes staring blankly off to the side.
"Yeah, but then that's it." Phineas concedes before quietly suggesting, "Maybe it is time that I built the high-altitude seal?"
Adrian Toomes gives a loud groan, shooting him a look, "Would you shut up about that?"
"It's only one job!"
"No!" Toomes irritatedly shuts him down before heaving an angry sigh and pressing a hand to his mouth in disbelief, "Eight years."
Michael raises his eyebrows at his father, not saying anything.
"Not a word from the feds, nothing from those Halloween-costume-wearing bozos up there in Stark Tower." He scoffs in annoyance, "And then all of a sudden, these little brats in black leather jackets and little red tights show up. And they think they can tear down everything I've built. Really?" He suddenly straightens up from where he's been leaning on a table and coldly determines, "I'm gonna kill them."
Michael cannot help how his eyes widen just slightly. He won't let that happen. The boy, sure. The boy can die. But the girl, no. He's not done with her. Not yet. She's not gonna feel death... not yet.
Toomes still rants, "I'm gonna find them-,"
"Found them!" Phineas pipes up, pointing a tool at the news on the television screen, "Or one of them."
Michael and Adrian both turn to the television, their similar brows bending in concentration.
A news reporter's voice becomes clear to the father and son, "The Spider-Man swooped in, heroically saving an Academic Decathlon team from Queens. The identity of the masked hero is still unknown..."
