Tinkering With This and That
Phil takes a deep puff of his inhaler before wiping his brow, hunched over a worktable in the loft he'd rented. It was amazing what you could find with Reed Richards' name backing your expense card. He'd asked if it'd be alright if he got himself some space outside the Baxter Building, after the first few months of practically living at the Excelsior office, and it had been deemed not a problem. Now he had his own reasonably comfortable place to sleep... apart from the nightmares.
They'd been getting worse lately, and he'd been going through his inhibitors slightly faster, there was no denying that anymore. The news reports about attacks on teenage vigilantes and aspiring heroes by some glider-riding figure, sparse as they'd been, weren't helping matters. Someone out there was doing exactly what he'd founded Excelsior to try and avert, and it was driving him up the wall.
Still, as grim as things were getting, he'd managed to salvage something of the situation.
Phil had never been stupid, but tech certainly hadn't been his thing. Lately though, schematics he would have stared at in dumbfounded wonder a year ago seemed to make sense after a few glances. Working out of the Baxter Building gave him the opportunity to look at a lot. Amazing the stuff they'd leave laying around. As powerful as his Lunatic Laugh was, he didn't dare stop the inhibitors; but it had given him an idea. Sonics were serious business. And with the right stockpiling of stereo equipment, some tools, and a few notebooks filled with notations of old Klaw-tech designs, something was taking shape.
He hadn't wanted to be a superhero again. This was going to be something else.
Someone out there had a plan, and he didn't like it.
So he was going to throw some feedback at it.
They'd been getting worse lately, and he'd been going through his inhibitors slightly faster, there was no denying that anymore. The news reports about attacks on teenage vigilantes and aspiring heroes by some glider-riding figure, sparse as they'd been, weren't helping matters. Someone out there was doing exactly what he'd founded Excelsior to try and avert, and it was driving him up the wall.
Still, as grim as things were getting, he'd managed to salvage something of the situation.
Phil had never been stupid, but tech certainly hadn't been his thing. Lately though, schematics he would have stared at in dumbfounded wonder a year ago seemed to make sense after a few glances. Working out of the Baxter Building gave him the opportunity to look at a lot. Amazing the stuff they'd leave laying around. As powerful as his Lunatic Laugh was, he didn't dare stop the inhibitors; but it had given him an idea. Sonics were serious business. And with the right stockpiling of stereo equipment, some tools, and a few notebooks filled with notations of old Klaw-tech designs, something was taking shape.
He hadn't wanted to be a superhero again. This was going to be something else.
Someone out there had a plan, and he didn't like it.
So he was going to throw some feedback at it.