Even in the face of polite ejection, he kept pushing, didn't he? It was ironic, that it reminded him a lot of Matt Murdock, and his damned insistence to keep pushing when he shouldn't. He'd made a mistake, of course, to activate the extremis 3.0 where his special hearing could catch it, but at the same time... it had been an annoyance -- and an inconvenience. And he couldn't have one or the other. He was starting to think that the man was going to present a problem, no matter what happened in the future.
He'd need to deal with him, and quick.
"No, you know what?" he asked, his voice sharp, jaw tight. "I'm the person I should have been for years," and he gestured, slightly, the suit started to pace, but didn't approach. He walked to a table, seemingly unconcerned, and pulled a bottle of liquor from one of the drawers. He'd stocked it rather well, considering how long it had been since he was ported in. Then again, he'd made a few runs to the liquor store. More than a few.
He opened the cap, and took a long drink from the bottle. "All this time, pretending that I was like the rest of them, surely you're smart enough, you can at least understand that," another drink. "Always dumbing yourself down, always pretending that you couldn't see six steps ahead, that you didn't know exactly how the future was going to end up, based on probability. How every 'new invention' was just another thing that you had in your back pocket, waiting until the right time."
He moved again, this time walking away from the table, taking long swigs from the vodka bottle, halfway empty now. "I got so damned tired of it all. The restraint, the holding back. It was going to hold me back, but not anymore. I know exactly how to get Russia and the US to behave from now on, and it doesn't involve either letting that weapon linger, or it being used." 3/4ths. He was drinking like a fish, circling, but not closing in.
"I'm going to ensure the future -- and it's going to be the best damned future it could be. Whether you ungrateful idiots like it or not."
The bottle -- now empty -- smashed against a table, showing shards of sharp glass.
In the same moment the suit reached to grab him in a bear hug from behind, the aim to lock his arms to his sides.
no subject
He'd need to deal with him, and quick.
"No, you know what?" he asked, his voice sharp, jaw tight. "I'm the person I should have been for years," and he gestured, slightly, the suit started to pace, but didn't approach. He walked to a table, seemingly unconcerned, and pulled a bottle of liquor from one of the drawers. He'd stocked it rather well, considering how long it had been since he was ported in. Then again, he'd made a few runs to the liquor store. More than a few.
He opened the cap, and took a long drink from the bottle. "All this time, pretending that I was like the rest of them, surely you're smart enough, you can at least understand that," another drink. "Always dumbing yourself down, always pretending that you couldn't see six steps ahead, that you didn't know exactly how the future was going to end up, based on probability. How every 'new invention' was just another thing that you had in your back pocket, waiting until the right time."
He moved again, this time walking away from the table, taking long swigs from the vodka bottle, halfway empty now. "I got so damned tired of it all. The restraint, the holding back. It was going to hold me back, but not anymore. I know exactly how to get Russia and the US to behave from now on, and it doesn't involve either letting that weapon linger, or it being used." 3/4ths. He was drinking like a fish, circling, but not closing in.
"I'm going to ensure the future -- and it's going to be the best damned future it could be. Whether you ungrateful idiots like it or not."
The bottle -- now empty -- smashed against a table, showing shards of sharp glass.
In the same moment the suit reached to grab him in a bear hug from behind, the aim to lock his arms to his sides.