The Not So Silent Hill

[starkingenuity]

[Continued from: here]

Staring at the little house, Tony was noteably unimpressed. The child and other half of a god (however loosely you wanted to use the term) really ought to have not been so...small. He was expecting more, and the way he stood with his hip out and arms crossed proved it. They'd take a quinjet to the nearest open field and one of Tony's smaller cars after that, loaded into the back of the plane after he'd ripped out a few seats.

With Extremis stable enough to exist in several now fire-breathing and extra strong mice rampaging through specially designed cages to contain them, JARVIS' databases and hacking ability getting them the information they needed to arrive here, and Alessa more or less content with the nurse she and Banner picked out, this had been the next logical step. Even so, he expected it to be a little more difficult.

Wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans that only accentuated his somewhat femininely proportioned hips and backside, Tony Stark was still Tony Stark and flashiness and he went hand in hand.

Like a brand name.

It didn't help that the yellow convertible was parked across the street, in direct contention with the overall look and feel of the neighbor around it.

"You can knock." He wasn't too keen on touching things other people did.

Comments

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce was tense. Even if it was all the way in the upper reaches of Canada, he felt that this had been too easy. Cheryl Mason had avoided the Order, a cult with a network all across the United States of unknown effectiveness, for thirty-one years. Even with JARVIS’s brilliant design, it should have been harder to find her.

Bruce reached out and knocked on the door. No one came to answer it. All the lights were off inside. Maybe she was gone?

He tried the doorknob and the door swung open to reveal a front hall completely barren of any adornment. No furniture, no rugs, no pictures, nothing, but the AC had to have been on because it was freezing. It felt like the warmth was being sucked out of him, and he gave an involuntary shiver.

“I think this might have been a false lead,” Bruce said as he carefully stepped inside, only to freeze at the clicking sound of a cocked gun.

“Move and I’ll blow your head off.”

Now that he was inside, he could see her. Perched on the top of the stairs, eyes a striking ice blue and red-rimmed, a woman with short, messy black hair, a rumpled leather jacket, and a gun pointed at his head.