The Errand of Anthony Stark - RP

Having been notified that his counterpart in this universe was slain during a battle with some Japanese teenager, the alternate Anthony Stark felt it was only right he'd inform his "brother" inside of this universe of this tragedy. Having previously fought and defeated his brother during the HFC Vs Trinity conflict he was anxious that any interactions would ensue into a conflict, yet the chance of battle was worth the errand. Wearing the exact same white outfit the Divine Death Dealing Stark idly pocketed his arms contemplating how to break the news...even this Stark, brilliant at speaking to the press and international news corporations yet failed miserably at speaking to loved ones.

Walking through the deserted dark streets near the HFC after Jacob had recently been let free Anthony had followed the man secretly in the shadows. Now happy that they were far enough from the HFC building he would reveal himself simply by teleporting directly in front of the younger Stark brother. Saying nothing, he'd simply watch for a reaction and contemplate what to say.

Night had fallen upon the luxuriously well-fed city of New York, immediately awakening all of it's nocturnal inhabitants, a vast majority of them up to no good. Having been coerced into an impending situation by his captor, the Kejijo Kaze; Tranquil, the young Assault had opted to stay within the embrace of his previous prison, hateful of his warden and each and every one of the man's colleagues yet itching for conflict, the likes of which the Vine Villains would provide.

Still, that day was far too distant and the boy couldn't wait that long, his being energetic and fresh from weeks of confinement. He strode through the city's streets, keeping two hungry eyes out for any trouble, especially the sort that he could tinker with. He shoved past well dressed pricks and bitches, their snotty faces turned towards the direction of the Hellfire Club and the sinful pleasures it would provide their poor undernourished souls. He scowled at them.

Opting to pursue crime via a short cut in the form of a secluded alleyway between a tuxedo store and an Indian curry emporium the young hero made his way, a vast majority of his being concealed by the massive trench coat across his frame.

FWIP

He nearly walked straight into the White Knight, having had him appear mere millimetres away. Instinct coursed through his form and he threw his entire body backwards through the air in a no-hands backflip, separating himself from the suddenly manifested being and adopting a battle stance similar to that of the crane, both hands flat and prepared to absolutely demolish whoever this teleporting man was. It took him a moment to realize that the person before him was in fact the entity that had practically eviscerated his body and killed the boy, Jacob Stark. Assault snarled, propelling himself forwards at the White Knight with speed akin to a viper, his entire form spinning through the air and bringing his feet around in a perfectly executed butterfly kick, each heel intended to make contact with the figure's temple and reduce it to fleshy pulp. Egged on by an unnatural sense of anger, the schizophrenic saviour had both his feet kiss the dirty gravel once more, immediately initiating his follow up attack in the form of twin crane strikes, performed elegantly despite his aggressive essence and aimed at the White Knight's throat, possessing enough force to dent solid steel.

The aggressive response was one which came at no surprise to Anthony, feeling as though he'd simply allow each attack to breach his defenses the butterfly kick viciously connecting upon Starks temple sending him stumbling to the side his kinetic energy absorption units dissipating any actual danger. Another attack came flying inwards smashing into the White Knights throat causing for his feet to buckle backwards a little yet the kinetic energy had been robbed once again rending the physical attacks useless. Feigning injury Anthony buckled over faking to gasp for breath before casually standing upright again like nothing had happened. His arms folded before his younger brother "Are you done?" His eyes glazed over behind of his White mask wishing for the man to continue, knowing he deserved it and the anger had to come out sooner rather than later.

Both methods of attack had been accepted by the White Knight, a course of action that surprised the young Assault, having anticipated fierce opposition from the mysterious figure. The aggressive avenger had already mapped out a series of counter-attacks and numerous deadly manoeuvres to eliminate his foe, the long list starting with decapitation. It appeared as if his instantaneous pre-meditation was unnecessary, at least for the time being, as his supposed opponent stood unmoving before him, allowing a stoic rhetorical question to hang in the air between them for a few moments. Perhaps, his only response to such dangerously performed actions.

"What the fck do you think you're doing? I'll kill you."

The young man's words were laced with malice and coordinated by an obscene flow of fury, roiling around within the psychotic protector's soul and influencing his every movement. He wished nothing other than to access his full combat capabilities for the first time since before donning the armour, the sheer amount of fire power upon the suit disabling his requirements for hand-to-hand fights. He would give this figure a single sentence more before he unleashed himself upon the White Knight and indulged his aggressive desires.

Anthony kept his arms folded across of mysterious White chest his eyes in perpetual analysis easily deducing an attack would be imminent, speaking quickly before his unknowing brother hoping to get at least a simple message across. "I must speak to you regarding Anthony Stark" A simple sentence without revealing much, if he had told the man about the death in this heightened state of agitation he may do something rash or simply think it a lie. Anthony then unfolded his arms dropping them to his sides "Is combat necessary?" Sighing, he prepared himself for an inevitable battle of fisticuffs.

Anthony Stark. The name resounded through Assault's head, and with great dejection he realized he would have to procrastinate his onslaught and have the White Knight elaborate. Practically seething, the weapon made an attempt at lessening the aggression in his stance, failing miserably but refusing to care. He did not drop his guard, not even for a nano-second, prepared for either the initiation of his own attack or that of the figure opposite him.

"The fck do you think you are? What would you know about Anthony Stark? And why has nobody ever told you that all that white just highlights the most awkward parts of your physique?"

The flurry of questions, two of which were obviously rhetorical, were induced by his blood-lusted state and he felt his being tremble for a moment at the sheer power it had bottled up. He was just about ready to explode.

So angry. So offensive. Yet, seeing his brother alive even in this state was enriching. In his own alternate timeline his brother had been assassinated. This was something new to Anthony, seeing his brother breathing before him. A subtle hint of admiration for the younger Stark was evident due to his resilient nature which the alternate Jacob lacked. Albeit slightly more...angry, this younger Stark was trying the older brothers patience already. Exhaling quietly Anthony began to speak without showing many emotions simply keeping a dead tone of voice "I'm sorry to inform you, but Anthony Stark was killed a few days ago" A simple talk, nothing other than the truth being presented in a simple manner. The words felt confusing to speak for the older brother. Having to tell your own sibling you had died yet being alive at the same time. His head looked towards of the concrete floor slightly saddened "I'm sorry for your loss" longing to tell the men he was his brother, yet knowing the ramifications would be detrimental to all.

A few seconds dragged by between the two of them, Assault absorbing these words and turning them over in his head a few times, all the while scanning his opponent's figure for any indications of an attack. His own perfectly sculpted physique, slightly more slender following several weeks without appropriate dietary habits and a devastating absence of training, had begun to tremble in anticipation now, his blood practically boiling within him. He allowed himself to drop his guard whilst he threw his head back and laughed into the sky, both arms wrapped around his abdomen mockingly. When his eyes met those of the White Knight's once more, they were as ruthlessly cold as his arrogant smirk, the likes of which was wrapped across his handsome young face.

"Sorry for my loss? Hey, buddy... Just who do you think I am?"

He reached up, grabbing the black cap upon his head and allowing it to fall to the floor, revealing a mess of bright crimson hair about his crown, the tips travelling all the way past his ears and gently caressing his traps. He shook his head around a bit, red locks whipping about his face almost theatrically. He reached for the lapels of his trench coat, his palms concealed by equally scarlet gloves.

"Jacob Stark is dead. I presume that's who you were looking for? My name, is Assault."

Momentarily releasing one of his lapels, he plucked an item from one of the coat's pockets, placing a crimson domino mask upon his arrogant face and disguising his visage instantaneously. Then he gripped the fine lapels of his cheap attire once more before he let it slip off of his slender frame, revealing an entire costume dedicated to the shade of blood upon his being.

"And I don't give a fck about Anthony or his death."

So this was the cruel twist of fate. By defeating his brother during that conflict he had condemned his own brothers fate to this...and in a way, killed him. Nothing other than sorrow was felt by Anthony. Next came anger. Finally came regret. Would he try and teach his brother a lesson through physical means or simply let this be? Ah, so much confusion. Tracking back through the previous Anthony Starks memories trying to find some leverage "Anthony Stark cared about your accident, or have you forgotten his formula was the only think which kept you alive?" tracking back thinking of more memories...the hospital visits "Or the time he visited you in hospital?" a last memory "Or the time he assisted you against that Nazi?" Anthony interlocked his hands behind of his white back thoughtfully disgusted by Jacob "Your brother showed you nothing other than kindness - You disrespect his memory..." Shaking his head the older brother was considerably annoyed at this lack of compassion for a once loved one "You do not deserve to call yourself a Stark"...our..."your dead parents would be turning in their graves" Eyes full of hateful remorse Stark hoped Jacob would see sense, yet knew it was futile. The man was crazy.

"I'M NOT JACOB STARK!"

Assault launched himself at the White Knight, both hands flying forwards in an attempt to grip the figure's hood and wrench him forwards, bringing their masked faces closer. Instability permeated his being and his arrogance was immediately wiped away and replaced by an insatiable fury, the sheer fact that he wasn't tearing this sanctimonious prick apart right where he stood a testament to his self-control. With every muscle across his form tensed and prepared to lash out, like a coiled snake, he hissed at the man opposite him, voice dripping with malice and hate.

"The Peak formula is mine now. Not Anthony's, not Jacob's, mine! You don't seem fcking understand. Get this into your self-righteous skull you patronizing piece of shit. Anthony Stark is not, was not, and never will be my brother. I harbour absolutely no desire to call myself a Stark, I would rather die then go by that pathetic, weak name!"

So saying, Assault released the man's hood only to rear up and direct a vicious head-butt towards his opponent's nose in an attempt to lodge the bone up into the White Knight's brain, every ounce of his unbridled rage immediately unchained.

@assault:

The man was lost. His mind destroyed by a nonsensical fallacy turning even his own brothers image against him. Too lost in thought regarding a possible cure to the mans madness, his head was hoisted forwards as the man angrily spoke inches away from the White knights own grasping his head. The man had just finished his insane converse as Stark felt a collision occur without even attempting to defend his automatized security not coming into effect. Possibly, almost certainly subconsciously Anthony felt responsible for this so his suit had not started a defense, he wanted to be attacked. As such the nose attack instantly caused it to break and snap, his pure White suit now stained crimson red.

Stark backed away looking towards of the ground nearly distraught "So be it" Jolting forwards Anthony utilized his suits augmented speeds to dart forwards attempting to simply punch the man in the face, however without warning he'd perform a teleportation faster than a standard human synapse could even register - Appear behind the man and punch him once on the back, his fist having three needles protruding being the counter-serum to the Peak Formula only Anthony possessed.

If a success, all active Peak formula or a substances nearing it's own molecular structures would be dispelled from the mans body after three hours through a fit of sweating. If the man did not want to be a Stark, he'd have no technology from the Starks.

Instantaneous impact with his opponent's nose rendered it immediately shattered and Assault rocked back on his own heels, forehead unscathed as a result of the perfectly executed attack. Already committing every particle of his being into deflecting whatever the mysterious but sanctimonious White Knight would direct towards his direction by way of retaliation. Long before his foe had reached him and even begun to initiate his punch, the young protagonist had calculated the attack and made several adjustments to his own posture, prepared for absolutely everything.

Snarling, as if a savage creature, the boy brought his right foot up effortlessly, swatting his opponent's arm straight out of the air without any other limb upon his form allowed to lose balance. Initializing a flurry of lightning-laced throat jabs once more, the armourless avenger realized instantaneously that he had miscalculated both the White Knight and himself.

A mistake.

He roared, already throwing his slender being around to intercept the teleporting trickster before the villainous entity performed any further acts of destruction upon the psychologically broken Assault.

Too slow.

Three bolts of agony fired into his frame like fat knives, crippling the muscles surrounding the points of entry and nearly leading to an immediate case of paralysis, prevented only by a will forged from the toughest iron. The shell of Jacob Stark staggered forwards, making a pathetic attempt at latching on to his oppressor. He took a single more step, atrociously groggy in nature and weak, before he collapsed to his knees, once more bested by the technologically aided White Knight.

"Heh."

Assault's head lolled backwards and his cold eyes met those of the alternate Anthony Stark, rough voice twisted by the affliction launching itself through his form.

"Looks like you win again, chump."

The young psychopath managed another defiantly angry grunt before he fell upon his side and had unconsciousness latch itself to his being.

The three pronged jab had worked greater than expected actually defeating the man due to the sheer pressure causing muscle paralysis within his body. The effects of the antidote for the serum would if worked as planned, extract all forms of the Peak Serum from the mans body and secrete it out from the pours in his skin, in other words sweat it out.

Three hours from now. His body would view the Peak Serum as a dangerous foreign toxin which would trigger a cleaning response by his body, thus resulting in a secretion through sweat. Other simple symptoms would include sleepiness due to the body simply going into a state of toxin cleansing.

Anthony Stark sadly strode over to his abandoned brother knowing he had lost any chance of appeal to his inner mind, knowing the man had succumbed to a form of psychopath illness out of obviousness and irrational speech patterns.

Looking down once more, he knew this was the end of their brotherly relationship even in this universe for a long time. A sad twist of fate. Stark departed back to the HFC through atomic rearrangement from one place to another leaving his brothers fate in the hands of destiny.