2019-06-28 - The Devil Ain't Dead


Tony tries to do an innocent chemical deal on the streets of Hell's Kitchen, and somehow it goes all wrong. Fortunately, the Devil isn't dead after all.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Fri Jun 28 00:37:03 2019
Location: RP Room 6

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Theme Song




Type "+thelp" for help.

Hell's Kitchen. What is Tony Stark even doing here? Doesn't he have people to come to neighborhoods like this when it's necessary so he doesn't get his nice Italian suits dirty? He's here, though. Looking for some clandestine chemicals he needs to be strictly off the books, and there are some things right now he's not trusting to anyone but JARVIS, who he's sworn to silence.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen may or may not know there's a clandestine deal going down tonight. Not illegal per se, if one ignores that certain permits and paperwork is being waived. Sure, the chemicals are dangerous, but this isn't exactly a deadly cartel.

Or they wouldn't have been, if they had stuck to the agreement and just sold the man his vials. Instead, the head of the gang thought he'd get rich kidnapping Tony Stark and holding him for ransom. Now there's yelling, people are fighting, and Tony Stark is proving that, even without his suit, he knows how to throw a punch. He's been kidnapped before, and he is impolitely declining.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen doesn't know anything. He is no longer listening. That's the word on the street, at least. Ain't seen hide or hair of him in weeks, alive or dead. Not since the rumor of his demise began to spread. Shot in the head, they said. Brains all over. Red on red. Not that anyone has found a body or anything but yeah, sure, he's dead. This is what probably emboldened the gang leader to attempt the kidnapping of Tony Stark. Again.

Tonight though, this crime was not meant to be. Because as Matt Murdock was walking his /date/ to her second job, he overheard the crew bragging before Stark's arrival. From a half block away, sure, but he heard it. And despite his latest attempt at a normal life, he had to, at the very least, make sure it wasn't bullshit.

So, he leaves the sad and thirsty courthouse clerk at her night gig and as the fight breaks out in the docking bay, A brick sails through the air and slams into one of the thug's skull. But from where?

Tony Stark is willing to incorporate that brick, and as the thug hits the pavement on hands and knees, stunned, Tony gives him a swiveling kick to the head, ducking a blow in the process. The man has made a point to study various forms of self-defense. He was just telling an enterprising young woman the night before you have to prepare for when you're on the street and your suit is in the closet.

There is no reason this should have been a fight. It was a simple transaction, damn it. Tony wasn't even dealing with criminals, not really. Until the gang took it over for their shot at a ransom. Because the Devil was dead. There's no way anyone reasonable could have seen this coming, though. It would be like going to adopt a dog only to be attacked by a pit bull fighting ring.

And yet, Tony didn't come completely unarmed. He has a taser, and as another one of the thugs lunges for him, he sidesteps and hits the guy in the back of the neck with those electric prongs. Down he goes, doing a chicken dance on his belly.

He's doing well, especially for a guy his age, but he's outnumbered, and his heart is palpitating. His breath is a little wheezy. He's not well. And another guy is launching himself toward him.

Another brick! And a hubcap! Double tap, the thug coming right for Stark drops like a sack of potatoes, along with another. You can hear Matt cursing as he rushes up from behind Tony to bodily stop the leader himself. And gosh, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen is dressed nicely tonight. Dark blue suit and tie. If it not for the makeshift mask, made from a scarf printed with overlapping cats and trimmed with glitter, he'd might be mistaken for just another guy in the street but the Devil doesn't show his face. Overpriced suit or no.

In contrast, Mr. Stark is dressed down tonight in jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt over a Henley. The Devil arrives just in time, because instead of laying out the leader, Tony rubs at his chest and tries to catch is breath, then sinks down to sit on the ground, back against a dumpster. He just needs to breathe for a second while the alley comes swimming up around him.

These thugs didn't expect this. They didn't sign up for it. Those still conscious scramble and scatter while The Devil takes on the boss. A gun is pulled but hits the ground, clacking across the pavement and after the boss is down to a knee. The masked man stops and stalks back to where the gun fell. The 9MM pistol is picked up, clip is tossed, the one in the chamber is ejected and the Devil growls. He strides back to the leader, who has his hands up. "Hey, man. I'm wasn't—" He is silenced by a pistol whip and hits the ground like a puppet with cut strings. The Devil in feline print looms over him a moment. His hands trembling. He tosses the gun away as if it suddenly burned his hand and then, he seems to remember why he's here. "Are you alright, Mister Stark?" He asks, breathlessly.

Tony Stark watches it unfold in a daze. He fades in and out, and in some hazy recollection there are people yelling at him in Urdu, and the clatter of the gun brings a flashback of having his own weapons turned on him. That juxtaposed with the Devil in an overpriced suit and feline scarf and the oof and thud of a gang finding out to their dismay that the Devil is not dead.

It takes him a moment to respond. He's struggling to breathe. "Hey." he says. "Does that scarf come in heterosexual? I'm asking for a friend." There's no venom in the tease. On the contrary, for a man on the verge of collapse, he's full of levity.

The Man in the Mask laughs. "Yeah, It was the only thing—Oh. Ow, ow…" He gasps and the kitty scarf comes off before he has a chance to give it a second thought. "Damn…glitter in my eye!" And now Matt Murdock, do-gooder, blind lawyer of Hell's Kitchen is fishing pink flecks out of his eye. His senses overload so wildly these days and this is just the worst night ever now. Worst night. Worst.

If it helps, Stark doesn't seem to be having a great night either, though one can say it's not glitter-in-the-eye bad. "Occupational hazard?" he says as he watches the man in the kitty scarf. "You were with a date, and you heard the fight, responded quickly, but she'll be disappointed?" he says. "Should I let you get back to it, or…?"

Matt is in increasingly bad shape as his overload snowballs. He sneezes a few times and ends up sitting near Tony on the ground, still poking at his eye. Delicate procedure, glitter removal. Once he's done, he exhales and leans back. "No…" He says, wiping tears from his face. "Well, yes…I was on a date but she has a night job. I walked her here and yeah, heard the fight. But since she's at work I…even if she wasn't—nevermind me. What's Tony Stark doing in Hell's Kitchen?"

Tony Stark watches, and who knows? He may or may not capture a glimpse beneath that scarf. Or he could be spacing out, it's hard to say. His breathing is normal again, if somewhat shallow, but his heart is still fluttering. Some people just have palpitations, it doesn't necessarily mean there's a heart attack headed his way. "Oh, you know, taking a walk by a chemical loading dock in the middle of the night. Stopped in for some selenium compounds for my private collection. It was either that or go overboard on the Vitamin E, and I'm so bad about remembering supplements."

"Private collection. I bet." Matt chuckles, readjusting the kitty scarf. He coughs and sniffles a bit. "Do me a favor, Mister Stark? Work on expanding your collection in another borough? The Devil's dead and he needs to stay that way." He gets to his feet, swiftly before offering his hand down. "Are you alright? I—you seem…" He sighs and shakes his head a little. "Nevermind. Can you walk? Do I need to call someone?"

Tony Stark takes the offered hand and says, "It's to where a man can't do legitimate business these days." He gets to his feet. "I think I can make it, yeah," he says. There's a barely perceptible stumble in his step. "Actually, yeah, uh. Can you call my assisstant?" He fishes out his phone, and he takes a few deep breaths. "Phew, this alley is spinning."

Matt actually grabs Tony when he barely stumbles. "Whoa, hey…" He snorts. "You are less impressive in public, I must say. Lucky for you, I'm not much of a gossip." He smirks. "You call her once you are steady. You'll scare her." He sounds like he's intimate with that feel. "I'll…clean up. The leader's still alive. Best he wakes up somewhere else." He pauses a beat. "They actually have your whatever…it's in the, uh, SUV. I think they decided on kidnapping at the last minute, to be honest."

"Well, I have been drinking," Tony says. He hasn't. There's no scent of alcohol on him, but hey, it makes a good story. "Okay, I'll grab the stuff and get out of your way, Mr. 'the Devil.' Thanks, I owe you one." He claps Matt on the shoulder, then passes by him to get to the SUV. On the way, he sends a text.

"Liar…" Matt mutters as Tony passes him. He keeps on muttering as he drags the leader away. Worst night. Just the worst.

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