Current mood:

cheerful

A phone call over the city.
Misha's goal was to get acquainted with the new stealth armor as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. Not that he lived in it, or slept in it (he wasn't four years old anymore with a brand new baseball mitt!), but he was racking up a good number of hours putting it through his workouts. He loved the better interface with his muscle memory; the more he used it, the more it seemed to anticipate rather than wait for him to lead. The seconds it shaved off his response time could bring a lot to a fight.

And sometimes, like today, he just wanted to get out and go flat out speed demon fast. He was making his third pass over the city, in a loop that included most of New England and a portion of Canada (oops, forgot the passport!) when his amazing new armor put through a phone call.

The display inside the face mask read Stark Inc, which told him it was coming from the same satellite Anya had sent his new phone on after the Red Room incident, and that opened up a few possibilities. Most likely Darlene or Anya, but it could be Mom. He was on extended Mom service until after she had the baby so he answered immediately. "Oil change, burgers, or going stir crazy?" he asked, slowing to a relative stealthy crawl near the Liberty statue.