This thing runs but cannot walk, sometimes sings but never talks.
WHO: those two sneaks Tony Stark | Iron Man and Edward Nygma | Riddler
WHERE: Theatre district!
WHEN: 7/1 at seven o’clock in the evening.
WARNINGS: Iron Man: The Musical!
SUMMARY: Eddie called Stark to another meeting, to discuss impending action.
FORMAT: Jazz hands!
He matched the time on his watch to a satellite system, reflecting the very second of chronological passing. In other words, it was perfect. A lot could be said about precision, whether the subject pertain to movement or thought.
And it just so happened that Eddie was interested in both.
He leaned against a brick wall-likely 1940s made-waiting for Stark to arrive. Eddie hadn’t clarified where in the theatre district he’d be, but as Tony spoiled his own surprise, it wasn’t a shocking revelation to find Eddie leaning against the Barrymore theatre, musing as waited for his business partner to arrive.
Edward knew the public risk. He was, in fact, counting on exposure. And to have a front seat position to that sort of thing? Glorious. Besides, the actual talk wouldn’t happen until post-performance. Eddie smoothed his hands into his pockets-again, he was dressed slightly more subtly for another out; green suit, sans question marks of those sort-and sighed. Something was itching in the back of his mind, something invasive. His mind kept falling back to a few hours before, when he was-well-in different company.
No matter. Show must go on, after all.
WHERE: Theatre district!
WHEN: 7/1 at seven o’clock in the evening.
WARNINGS: Iron Man: The Musical!
SUMMARY: Eddie called Stark to another meeting, to discuss impending action.
FORMAT: Jazz hands!
He matched the time on his watch to a satellite system, reflecting the very second of chronological passing. In other words, it was perfect. A lot could be said about precision, whether the subject pertain to movement or thought.
And it just so happened that Eddie was interested in both.
He leaned against a brick wall-likely 1940s made-waiting for Stark to arrive. Eddie hadn’t clarified where in the theatre district he’d be, but as Tony spoiled his own surprise, it wasn’t a shocking revelation to find Eddie leaning against the Barrymore theatre, musing as waited for his business partner to arrive.
Edward knew the public risk. He was, in fact, counting on exposure. And to have a front seat position to that sort of thing? Glorious. Besides, the actual talk wouldn’t happen until post-performance. Eddie smoothed his hands into his pockets-again, he was dressed slightly more subtly for another out; green suit, sans question marks of those sort-and sighed. Something was itching in the back of his mind, something invasive. His mind kept falling back to a few hours before, when he was-well-in different company.
No matter. Show must go on, after all.