UsernameEmailRegionInterestAOL IMICQ IDYahoo! IDMSN IDJabber

Later
The hospital in Doomstadt was the only building in Latveria, other than the castle and Doom's various defensive systems, with electricity and state-of-the-art technology. Doom had long ago set it up, put most of its technical maintenance on automatic systems, and stopped worrying about anything so simple.

Now, after so much strain on the electrical systems of the city from one thing and another, the hospital had just broken down. No immediate fatalities to the patients from the malfunction, but the very idea of something going wrong without the Master or the Doombots to keep it under control or press the right button was even worse than an attempted invasion in terms of stirring unrest in the city.

And there could not be unrest in the city. Nothing that could lead to riots in the streets. Kristoff would not allow it. Been there. Done that. Got the lifetime of abandonment issues. So he was there immediately, instructing people into how to fix the problems and get everything back online.

Latveria didn't have much of a government hierarchy to speak of. The legal system Doom instituted didn't lend itself to much of one. But every city, however unusual and unmodernized, has a few administrative functionaries. And every community has a few people who like to throw their weight around when the cat's away and the bells are broken.

And a couple of them were getting in Kristoff's way. "The situation can be managed without Fantastic Four interference."
"By whom?" He snaps. "Gentlemen, you do not know how to work a flashlight."
And it turns out Kristoff was, in fact, not the only one on the planet who remembered a certain stinging issue. "Your presence here isn't even legal, Vernard. This isn't your home anymore."
He can't help it. The stern, authoritative expression yields to a wince.