Part of the Journey is the End

Part of Tony knew that the guy dressed as Scarecrow was Reed. 

That part of him was getting rapidly drowned out by the part of him that was Batman, and Tony was finding it harder and harder to tell which part of him was which. 

And that was how he found himself dropping down from the ceiling behind Crane, landing silently before rising to his feet. The man was acting suspiciously, and if Tony himself was affected by Doom’s magic... then the likelihood was high that Reed too, would be under the spell. “Crane,” he said, readying himself for a fight. “I would advise against trying anything funny.”

The first person that Tony sought out after Stephen, was Underoos. It took him a while - the party was crowded, and he hadn’t exactly expected the kid to turn up dressed as Princess Leia. Not bad, though. And not surprising, considering his affinity for pop culture.

“Peter,” he said, his voice modulated so deep that it sounded a little weird to his ear.

He, Tony Stark, would have pulled Peter straight into a hug, but apparently, this transformation magic that Doom had worked was more than just skin deep, because he felt himself twitch, then let his hands fall to his side. “I trust you’ve been well.”

Tony was starting to think that Doom had miscalculated, and seriously so. His own gadgets and tech were suddenly working, and he had a hunch that Doom’s power suppressors weren’t designed to deal with the sudden costume shift. It seemed that Doom had sown the seeds of his own downfall, and Tony was more than ready to take advantage of it.

And conveniently, he had an ally that he knew he could count on. “Diana-- America,” he said, stepping up to her. “This could be our best shot at taking Doom out.”

This party could well be their chance to get rid of Doom once and for all, but Tony was realising that, with the number of Doombots running around, it was going to be a tough fight. And more importantly, it was entirely likely that Doom would be able to escape in the confusion. 

“Something’s going to happen,” he murmured, spotting a familiar figure in the crowd. Mary Jane... Han Solo, now. Good. He could do with someone watching his back. “Doom’s got something up his sleeve, and I suspect it’s not going to be pleasant. We need to take him out -- and this is our best shot.”

( @ofblueberries​​ )

stephen leaned on his wizard’s staff as he looked up into the rafters of the central hall, watching in amusement at the man he loved. odd for a wizard to find love that lasts as long as this did, considering to be a wizard was to be practically immortal. and yet, here he was - watching tony stark as batman move about as silently and as precise as possible. “you know, another way to move about is by eagle - it’s quite freeing, if you excuse the american-ness of it all. i can assure you, that was never the intention when it was written.“ he called out, squinting and smiling up towards tony. “care to join me on the ground? i’m an old wizard, you know.”

Tony had never thought that grappling would be this fun. He’d always had flight, even back on the Mk I armour, and who needed to grapple when you could fly? But as he dropped silently from the chandelier to land before Gandal-- Stephen, he let out an inner whoop...

... that emerged as an external grunt. 

“Impractical when indoors,” he said. “And you’re not old.”

He narrowed his eyes, glancing around of his room. Part of him - the part that was him, was irreverently observing that he was as tall (or taller!) than Stephen right now. The other part of him, the Batman side, was all business. 

“Doom is up to something. This can’t be the only surprise of the night he has planned. We need a course of action, and quickly. Does your magic work?”

Tony was doing his best to creep through Doom’s palace... and mostly failing. Maybe it was just his paranoia, but it seemed that the Doombots had been programmed to keep an eye on him, and everywhere he turned, there was one or a dozen following him around.

Acting casual - as casual as he could be when he was literally dressed as Batman, he wandered up to a kid dressed in a cowboy hat. Wait - he knew him. RJ, the kid who hung around Barnes a lot, or had some kind of connection with him. “Do me a favour,” he said, his usual rapidfire verbosity giving way to a deep and succinct rumble. “Help me create a distraction, I need to get post those Doombots.”

Tony could feel his verbosity drying up the moment Doom’s magic hit. It was the weirdest feeling, but felt like the most natural thing in the world, and he found himself just going with it. Just as he found himself going along with the urge to creep out of the party and start snooping. Acting on that urge found him slinking down a corridor with way too many busts of Doom, searching for possible secret passages. His tech all worked suddenly, which was such a massive relief that he could have cried, save that Batman really wasn’t prone to emotional outbursts. He settled, instead, for a particularly expressive “Hmm”, as his scanner picked up something. 

As he moved towards what he suspected was a secret passage, he realised that he wasn’t alone in the corridor any longer. Someone else had made her way down here, and looked about as out of place as he did. An ally? Or one of Doom’s?

No, that was ridiculous. Doom’s Doombots all looked like him. He retreated into the shadows, watching for a moment, before stepping out. “You shouldn’t be here.”

erik didn’t show much of emotion on his face, only giving the man before him a placid expression. his joke fell flat and he was growing increasingly bored and tired of this so-called party by the moment.

raising a brow, erik tipped the bottom of his walking cane out to stop tony from getting too close before accepting the champagne and taking a sip, “thank you.”

sighing, he paused and glanced around at the portraits with an acute gaze of boredom before landing the very same look back onto tony. “you’re quite useful, aren’t you?” erik responded, suddenly feeling more intrigued by him and deciding it was better to be friends for now.

“if we can figure out what is causing our abilities to suffer and end the issue, i can tear this place down to the ground with a simple hand wave. first, however, i will start with him.“ he pointed his cane towards one of doom’s portraits, “rip the metal from his body and twist it and him until he cannot utter another ‘doom’ again.“ turning back to face tony, erik leveled him with a gaze of quiet and frightening anger, “never again will i fall to a regime that prospers on the backs of the innocent. he will pay.“

Man, Erik Lehnsherr was a hard nut to crack. Though, Tony hadn’t expected anything less of Magneto. Still, it looked like he was willing to listen -- at least long enough for them to maybe discuss plans. This seemed as good a time as any - although the party was crowded, their voices were drowned out by the sound of the crowd, and the Doombots -- insofar as there were any -- were all standing by the corners of the room, staying well out of the way. 

“Me?” he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Not super powered or anything, but I am handy with devices. And Doom does love his devices.”

He was about to continue when Erik kept on speaking, and he felt his eyes grow wider as the mutant leader started to lose it. 

“I think I might have an answer to that,” he said, opting to get straight to the point, before Erik’s temper started getting out of hand. “By my estimation, there’s something emitting a low level field on multiple different wavelengths, but predominantly what I’ve been able to detect is magnetic as well as a low level of gamma radiation. The signal gets stronger in certain areas then thins out, which is consistent with there being a network of generators that are emitting it. In other words... if we can find those things, we can possibly jam the signal, or destroy the network, and break a hole in the defences.”

He was about to say more, when Doom made his over the top grand entrance (ok -- he had to admit it -- he’d done his fair share of grand entrances, some of which were grander). He opened his mouth to make a snarky comment, when everything seemed to ... change.

“it’s an improvisation, i’d rather just say the name that you prefer,“ stephen responded, giving tony a small smile before shrugging. for whatever efforts that stephen had, he never could stay mad at tony for very long - if at all. “anthony stupid genius stark? and where does the edward fit in? or did you get rid of that altogether?”

he raised a brow at the other but ultimately found himself gravitating towards tony and smiling more to himself when the other took his a hold of his hands. “you can’t fault her, tony.” he paused and sighed, “fuck it, i’m using your name - she’s incredibly intelligent and she’s very observant, that’s on you and pepper.” he noted.

“no, she just knows you,“ he shrugged turning his hand around in tony’s and giving the other a reassuring squeeze before snorting at his remark. ”i’ll do no such thing, perhaps i’d call you ‘my darling’ or ‘dammit tony’ but calling you the other is off-limits from me, sorry to break it to you, my darling.“

he glanced up at the cell and frowned, “i wonder if we can break you out of here…” looking back down he locked his eyes with the other, “what do you think?”

“So... hot, sexy boyfriend?” Tony asked, eyes gleaming with mirth. “Shh, Edward’s the codename.” He leaned closer to the bars, wishing they were gone and that he could pull Stephen into a hug. “Thanks for looking after Morgan,” he said. “I really should have thought more about her when I stepped up ... it was just.” He shrugged, but a flash of guilt tore through him. How many times was he going to leave his kid without a dad? Hell, he’d already died once.

“Aw!” he mock pouted when Stephen refused to call him by his suggested nickname, even as his heart did a stupid little flutter when Stephen called him ‘darling’. Damnit, what was he, a teenager? “You just said you’d rather call me by the name I prefer.”

His eyes tracked in the direction of Stephen’s gaze, up at the cameras watching their every move. “I say... in the wise words of Michael Scott, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. Let’s do it.”

Sooraya was doing very little to conceal her disdain at being forced to attend such festivities. Given the choice, she wouldn’t celebrate Halloween. She wouldn’t rain on her friends’ parade either. It was the lack of choice in the matter that frustrated her. Without her abilities, she had no desire to come face to face with the architect of such diktats. The only positive side was that she might be able to get a look at that armour of his. Work out how a dust-storm could best damage it.   She picked up a mysterious pastry in a napkin, attempting to examine it as politely as possible. She’d long since given up trying to determine the permissibility of meat in that jungle, cutting it out of her diet entirely to be on the safe side. Unfortunately, it looked like she might have to talk to the person next to her. “Excuse me - do you think this is vegetarian?” 

Tony was ... whoa. He was Batman. Batman. The Dark Knight. The broody billionaire inventor.

Okay, so basically he was himself, just ... more broody. And less verbose.

Catwoman-- no, no no, not Catwoman. Okay, yes Catwoman. But also Sooraya -- was busy checking out the pastries, and Tony figured that it was probably a ruse. 

Or maybe she was just hungry, like the rest of them.

No, definitely ruse.

Moving silently over, he picked up another pastry and bit into it, enough to reveal the filling, before turning it over in his hand. “Potato. Carrots. Curry.” He squinted into it. “No sign of meat.” 

He lowered his voice. “You’re not planning on stealing anything, are you?”

“What, sitting in the dungeon? Sorry, I meant: doomgeon?” Tony laughed ruefully. “I mean, it is an opportunity, if you look at it from a certain angle.” 

He glided over to a waiter with the ease of someone who knew his way around parties, and snagged a champagne flute for himself and another for Erik. “Drink?” 

“See, it’s a chance to admire Doom’s portraits upfront, see some of the stuff he’s working on, see how he works...” 

Moving closer to Erik, he lowered his voice. “For instance, I know that his cameras are great for visual, terrible on sound pick up. And I know the frequency that they operate on, which means I could design a jammer.”

stephen really hated what tony had done - and further what doom had done. which honestly at this point, stephen just hated everything that revolved around doom. still, he couldn’t fully grasp the severity of the punishment that was given out towards his lover.

however, before stephen could give any sort of reaction or statement, tony was already firing off his defense and leaving the sorcerer to stare with a muted, but frowning expression. when he was sure the other was finished he finally opened his mouth to speak. “ton-anthony, i understand why you did it, but i still think it was a stupid thing to do.”

being banned from saying tonys name was another thing that bothered him immensely. who bans a name?

“you may have a point, still - i didn’t think you’d be finding yourself comfortable here so soon.“ he gave him a small smile as he grabbed a hold of the bars, “morgan is fine, she’s safe - she’s asked me when doom was going to release her daddy. honestly you cannot lie to your child, to-“ he let out a sigh of frustration, “i can’t wait for him to unban your name.“

Stephen was evidently pissed. Whoops. Time to do damage control. Putting on his most charming expression, he sauntered closer to the bars and took Stephen’s hands, squeezing them lightly and giving him a reassuring grin. 

“Ton-anthony? That’s new.” Laughing softly, he leaned his forehead against the bars, missing proximity and human contact. Specifically, Stephen Strange contact. “Yeah, stupid’s my middle name, right alongside ‘genius’.”

He gave Stephen a rueful look. “I mean it, I’m sorry. And damnit, Morgan.” He shook his head in a mixture of absolute adoration and absolute frustration for his kid. “Should have guessed that ‘business trip’ wouldn’t fool her. What, has she been watching the news or something?”

Grinning, he tried to steer the conversation back to happier things. “This is your perfect opportunity to call me cute or sweet nicknames, like “You Sexy Thing”.” 

“I could, but why would I? Being normal is boring.” Tony whirled around in the spinny chair, picking random things off his work desk and fiddling with them. “Plus, I’m bored. Worst part about this Doomgeon? It’s just... boring. Oh, and did you see the faces of Doom everywhere?” 

He heaved a dramatic sigh. “So anyway, as I was saying, the castle’s pretty well built, I don’t think a trebuchet or ten would be able to take it down. Not that I’m spending my free time thinking about how to demolish it. Course not.” He stared at the camera watching them.

“So, what brings you here? Please tell me you brought me something interesting.”

“What, the cheese? The wine? Or ... this place?” 

Tony glanced over from where he’d been working on Doom’s latest project in his cell in the Doomgeons. “It’s not that bad, really. No rats, Doom’s been sending cheeseboards like they’re going out of fashion -- I suppose it’s part of the whole ‘no iron’ thing.”

Setting his work down, he spun in his chair to face Kaine. “So... what brings you down here? I hope Doom didn’t toss you into the Doomgeons. Even if they relatively decent, as dungeons go.”

“Of course it is. It’s designed to make Doom look good. Overcompensation, much?” Tony snorted as he stared up at Doom’s palace. “So...” turning to face Peter, he gave him a Serious Look (TM). “But whatever the case, Doom does have absolute control over this place, so I want you to promise me that you’ll stay out of trouble, Underoos. No caped crusading, no un-caped crusading, no running around beating up the bad ones in a onesie.”

“Oops,” Tony said, then glanced up through the bars of his nice -- actually fairly comfortable -- cell - as he saw Stephen’s familiar silhouette entering the Doomgeon. “Okay, for avoidance of doubt - before we start, I want to say that I’m very sorry and it was for a good cause.” 

He held up his hands placatingly. “So ... don’t be mad?” he gave Stephen a hopeful grin. 

“Thing is, I might have stepped up to take the blame for the doombot painting - which I didn’t do, by the way, but Doom was going after one of the spiderkids, and you know how much they mean to me, so.” 

He shrugged ruefully. “Besides, I’m sure Doom would have tossed me in the Doomgeons for something else, sooner or later.”

He scratched the back of his head. “How have you been? How’s Morgan?”