#hightechgenius

                               @hightechgenius asked:         The landing was hard & had it not been for his         armor, he would've died, but that was nothing         new. What was new was the scrambled feeling         of his mind. It was like someone had ran his brain        through a blender and then poured it back inside        his head again. "Rhodey?" The comm was dead,        not even static, but his suit still had basic power.        Groaning, he tried to sit up, making the world spin        & tilt dangerously. That's when he noticed the small        group of people. Old-time dressed people. What                                                  the fuck?

Howard was having some strong words with an old man. One that he didn’t particularly want to see or even hear speak. So it was somewhat of a BLESSING when something came out of the sky and dropped in the park. Both his attention and the man’s were drawn over towards where the body suit - armour? - lay. It instantly produced an air of caution and fear among the bystanders. The last time they saw something like this, it was most likely, a bomb. There were words spoken, only some of which caught Howard’s attention; ‘is this one of Stark’s?’, ‘the Nazis are here!’. 

Howard, with a glance to the man, gave a sigh and pushed by him. He wasn’t exactly familiar with that technology, but damn did it look rough. Whatever it was meant to do - if it was harmful - hadn’t worked. And then- then it sat up. He came to a careful stop. Was someone in there?

The murmurings got louder as a crowd gathered. It was a split decision, and while he wasn’t sure if it would help or hinder, he decided to throw it all in for this. He moved by and placed himself between him and Tony, smiling that public smile he was known for. “I apologies, ladies and gentlemen. This wasn’t supposed to be revealed to the public. My colleague is on his way to get you to all sign waivers; you are NOT to spread what you’ve seen here to anyone, or you will be seen as a spy and judged accordingly. Got it? Lookin’ at you, sunshine.” He gave a small, cocky smile at one of the ladies, who blushed in return.

Every @ I get, I have to tag someone I love/look up to

@hightechgenius Ezra is amazing. A skilled and intelligent writer. Thoroughly understands all of their muses and is able to portray that characterization so divinely. Plus, they are a lot of fun to talk to ooc and have honestly helped me calm down from anxiety attacks a few times. They are brilliant and I love them dearly.

@intothewildseaRini is also amazing. I’ve been bothering them for years now. So creative and so excited about their muses. Their descriptions and headcannons are to die for. They’re so wonderful to talk to ooc. Sweet and understanding. I love them dearly too.

@hightechgenius

Raiding a mad geneticist's lab was just a Thursday at SHIELD. This particular one, hidden under a strip mall in Colorado Springs (and, rather worryingly, accessed through the pet store), had the usual assortment of hunchbacked assistants, giant arthropods, and lethal viruses. But when the agents broke open a locked room in the back corner, they found something entirely unexpected. Rather than being full of freezers or cages, the room was a little cell with a cot, a desk, and some books - and a skinny, miserable-looking teenage boy with a familiar face.

After confirming that the real Tony Stark was alive and well and his location was known, the next question was what to do with this kid. He obviously couldnt be euthanized like the rest of his creator's abominations, but nor did he have any legal identity or anywhere to go. The one thing everyone could agree on was that it would be a terrible idea to tell Stark about it. Both young men were going to have enough problems without that.

Mr. and Mrs. Stark had been a wreck for the past five days, the Jarvises were inconsolable, and, frankly, Daniel felt he was running out of ways to keep Peggy’s increasingly irate fits of temper in check. SHIELD – which was to say, Daniel – had even called in a favor with the CIA – which was to say, Jack Thompson – and three days ago, Jack himself had come to deliver whatever useful intel he could find. Jack had stayed, too, getting the old band back together, so to speak, to find Howard Stark’s son.

Finally, they had been able to pinpoint an exact location on Tony and his captors, and Daniel had pulled rank on a number of people to ensure that he was one of the agents that went in to retrieve the boy. Still, nothing had prepared him for the sight that met his eyes when they found Tony. Strapped to a chair, clearly exhausted and literally tortured, breathing all wrong from pain due to God knew what. His breath caught for a second, and he saw a flash of red-hot fury before he gathered his wits about him and moved to untie Tony. He suddenly felt perfectly at peace with the idea that the other guys in his team were currently shooting a path out of here for them.

Ginger’s Uncle Morgan was not only one of the few Potts family members she could stand, but he was also one of the few that managed to get out of Dillon, Illinois. It was her dream to get out, to attend a prestigious college -- but first, she needed to attend a better high school.

Uncle Morgan had moved to the city years ago, and Ginger hadn’t seen him since he moved, but after speaking to his brother, he told him he was willing to care for his niece for her junior and senior year of high school.

So, Ginger arrived shortly after the start of the new school year and immediately began touring high schools around the city. They were so big, so crowded, but she couldn’t help but be excited by the possibilities.

She arrived at her new school for the day and signed in at the office, asking the secretary who her guide would be. Ms. Dubanowski told her that her guide was already waiting outside, wearing a name tag, and probably leaning against a set of lockers while he waited for her.

Ginger turned and exited the office, eyes scanning the crowd before her gaze settled upon a young man who looked like he was practically hiding from her. She approached him, landed in front of him, and extended a hand towards him.

“Yeah, that was my plan.” Tony replied to his adult self, his voice strained as he tried to keep himself from falling off the ledge, holding on to it with only one hand. Damn EMP weapon had shut down his suit, though thankfully communications was weirdly enough intact, but he had been lucky enough to be close to a building and able to grab onto its edge. “If you could hurry, that would be good, I’m not sure people would like me making a dent in the road.”

If he could hurry. As though he wasn’t already going as fast as he could. The suit had limits (and he would need to fix that in the next model) and one of those was that he only went so fast. “Remind me to upgrade your suit later, Kid. You’d be shocked how many people think of EMP’s when they plan on going after us.” Him. Them? The syntax of talking to himself, not himself, other self, was not quiet as easy as it should be. “JARVIS. Put in my calendar to invent new syntax for these situations.”

“Situations in which you are speaking to a younger, alternate version, of yourself, Sir?”

Why did you choose this muse to rp as?

Honestly? I have played a few different Marvel muses as needed for my friends. And when I decided to try my hand at joining the rp community I picked the person I was told I played best. He wasn’t my first choice but I was scared and I wanted to put my best foot forward.

Where do you get the inspiration for your muse?

Tony wasn’t sure if this would end in something good or bad (well, he guessed it depended on who you asked), but he let Steve steer him away, not even trying to fight against the hand he’d placed against his back. Not that he would have won unless Cap wanted him to.

“Uhm… wanna tell me where you’re leading me?”

“Just keep walking Tony.” Steve hissed under his breath. Sure, the teen might be used to paparazzi bothering him. However, whatever the headline would be when the kid was out with someone twice his age was not something Steve was in a particular mood to deal with. Of course, it also meant that Tony needed to go and Steve could certainly be an obnoxious distraction.