The Man in the Iron Suit
Near the Saddle Arabian/Tauros Border, Three Weeks Earlier...
Fancy Pants smiled as he looked out the window of his convoy- for all its heat and sand, Saddle Arabia was a truly beautiful country. The spiraling architecture, the wondrous reds and browns of the natural clay; while he may have been a unicorn aspect, there were scarce few times where he felt more of a connection to the nitty-gritty aspects of a more down-to-earth way of life.
"Don't know why you're grinning so much- looks like a lot of dirt to me," his military escort quipped, the rumble of the Humvee's engine a small comfort through the steering column. Fancy chuckled.
"Oh, come now Captain Spitfire- you must admit, it is rather remarkable how people have managed to flourish in such inhospitable conditions. Such hard work and perseverance, it's rather inspiring."
Spitfire chuckled, "You're a weird one, Mr. Pants."
"Please, call me Fancy."
"Well, Fancy- looks like this is our stop," Spitfire said, as the Humvee slowed to a stop. Stepping out into the harsh sunlight, Fancy Pants could barely make out the forms of the Saddle Arabian dignitaries he was meeting with- and demonstrating for.
"Haakim, Amira- it is certainly a pleasure to finally meet face to face!" He called, shaking each one's hand thoroughly. Amira smiled in return.
"The pleasure is all ours- we look forward to what you have in store for us."
Fancy gave a sly wink and a smile, "Well then, shall we?"
Leading the pair of dignitaries to a shaded pavilion, one of Fancy's assistants handed him a small remote. Fancy nodded.
"Now, as you are well aware, Fancy Industries has its irons in many fires- from household electronics, computers, textile manufacturing, and even on occasion- military defense technology."
He held up the remote, and continued, "Our most recent venture, however, has been delving into the world of Magitek- patent pending- and what I am about to unveil may be the next step in blending our newly returned magics with the power of technology."
Turning towards the Captain, he asked, "What's the ETA on the missile strike?"
"T-minus five minutes, sir."
Haakim's eyes widened, "M-missiles? What game are you playing at, here? I was promised defensive technologies, not some- some wargame!"
Fancy chuckled, "Please, please, calm down. I assure you all we are perfectly safe," he checked his watch, and then stared into the distant horizon. Sure enough, he could barely make out the glint of something flying towards them all- and fast. His grin spread, and the pair of dignitaries started to worry if they had just fallen in with a madman.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce," He said, pressing a single button on the remote. An unearthly hum resonated from underneath the raised pavilion, and a shimmering barely-purple bubble sprouted around in a fifty foot radius. The missiles screamed as they closed the distance.
"Fancy Industries' thaumatic reaction shield technology!"
The missiles struck the bubble, and the plume of smoke covered the sky. Haakim shut his eyes, and a moment later cracked them open- he was still alive. Fancy stood, arms open to the side with a smile on his face.
"Well? Jolly good demonstration, I should say!" He cackled with laughter, and Haakim struggled to regain some of his dignity. Amira smiled lightly, before clapping.
"It was very effective, yes."
Haakim nodded, "But please, if you pull a stunt like that again without our prior knowledge again, I may have you thrown into stocks for good measure."
Fancy cleared his throat, nodding, "Yes, yes- I suppose that would be fair. Now then- shall we head back to the city? I'm sure there is paperwork to do, and I would prefer a moderate amount of air conditioning to do it in."
Deep Within Tauros, Two Weeks and Four Days Ago
As Fancy struggled to wipe the sweat from his brow with the incredibly grungy sleeve of his dress shirt, he was beginning to miss paperwork.
It was going so well. He was well on his way back to capital city of Saddle Arabia- electing to ride with some of the younger recruits and hand out a few autographs. Positive PR. And then everything went to Tartarus- something exploded, the car flipped, and next thing he knew he was handcuffed in a dingy cell while his head throbbed like someone had caved it in. That's when he came in.
He was tall, with skin so red it almost seemed burnt, and a beard that under normal circumstances Fancy would have commended. Fancy cleared his throat once.
"Tirek, I presume?"
"Lord Tirek," He rumbled, flanked by a pair of guards. Fancy sniffed.
"Very well- for what do I owe the pleasure?"
Looking side to side, Tirek snapped his fingers as one of the guards unlocked the cell door. His expression remaining neutral, Tirek stepped in.
"You are going to build me one of those magic generators."
Fancy snorted, "The Hell I am! You're an absolute menace, I'd rather die!"
A small smile passed Tirek's face, as he held out a hand to one of his guards, "I was hoping you'd resist."
Fancy scowled, as he watched the guard hand Tirek a chisel. His face fell as he soon realized what was to pass.
"Do not worry- this will only hurt a lot."
Deep Within Tauros, Two Weeks Ago
Fancy Pants had gotten used to the pain. It had been a good few days since he had finally managed to break the habit of trying to touch his forehead where his gem used to be. The world was dull- colorless. He couldn't even feel the spark of life that magic gave anymore.
So he would build Tirek his thaum reactor. And it would be the biggest regret Tirek would ever have.
Deep Within Tauros, One Week Ago
"He's stalling," One guard said, as he watched the screen connected to Fancy Pants' cell turned workshop. The man was hard at work, for sure- but the device was barely the size of a fist, let alone a full powered energy source. A sheet remained over what they had assumed was the true project- perhaps Fancy needed further encouragement to keep him from becoming distracted. He nodded towards a few of the guards- it was time for applied persuasion techniques.
The guards filed down the hall, stopping right outside the reinforced metal door to the workshop. One of them peered through the small slot of a window- Fancy was nowhere to be seen. He nodded towards two of his fellows, who readied their guns. The door creaked open.
"Hands where we can see them, Fancy Pants! You know what happens when you resist!"
No one responded- The workshop was practically empty. Cautiously, the guards fanned out into the room. A small breeze fluttered the sheet covering the promised thaum reactor.
It was too late that the guard realized there shouldn't be a breeze so far underground. With a sickening crunch, the guard was sent flying across the room and into a wall. The four remaining guards turned, their weapons firing full auto. Bullets pinged and fizzled as they hit the metal monstrosity in front of them- like a man, but at least eight feet tall and covered in arcane circuits that glowed with a slight blue light. On it's forehead, a brightly glowing gemstone sat, shimmering with every hit. Soon enough, the guards ran out of ammo, and the metal monster took a wide stance.
"My turn."
Raising its fists forward, the arcane circuits glowed as a pair of panels popped open- streaking blue missiles flying forward and detonating the area with blue magical force. The guards went flying, and Fancy Pants took a few trudging steps out of the cell.
The klaxon call of the siren sounded in the hallways as Fancy slowly but determinedly walked down the hall. Another small platoon of guards found themselves bottlenecked off a side hallway, and Fancy let loose another magic missile to fell them. Soon enough, the hallway widened into a hangar- with dozens of guards and turrets gunning for him. The shimmering of his personal shields held up, as Fancy Pants let loose salvos of magic missiles and a few mundane shoulder-mounted guns at the troops in front of him.
And still, he kept moving forward. The smarter ones dove out of his warpath, and the arcane runes started to glow brightly. Fancy managed a small smile.
"Sorry to dash so quickly, boys- but I've a flight to catch." He quipped, and the pack on his back hummed to life. With a loud roar, a plume of magical fire rocketed downwards- and with every action, an equal and opposite one must follow.
Fancy Pants careened through the metal roof of the hangar, tearing through it like tissue paper. He arced high in the air, and as he saw the sun for the first time in weeks, he laughed.
But soon enough, another fundamental law of physics started to take a hold of the incredibly heavy metal suit Fancy piloted. It was with dull surprise he noted how fast the horizon greeted him.
He bounced once, then twice, and finally skidded to a stop at the third. His shields held, but the suit was torn apart from the inside. In hindsight, an obvious flaw in the riveted structure- but Fancy was innovative. He could fix it in a later iteration. That was the last thought to cross his mind as he went unconscious.
Downtown Canterlot, Three Days Ago
Fancy Pants was always known for mingling with the common folk. But he was still rich- and so were his tastes. However, as the grease from the Hey! Burger double quarterpounder with cheese dribbled down his chin, he couldn't be happier. Damn those veal tortellacis in creamy pesto- this hamburger was the food of the gods. Quite literally, he was sure- after all, that Sunset Shimmer girl was a teenager, right? She probably ate fast food more than a few times, right? Though the "really being a horse" thing might put a wrench in that line of reasoning.
"Slow down there, don't want you to die from choking so quickly after rescuing you," Mrs. Spice said. Fancy was relieved to find his secretary one of the few people who wasn't constantly fussing with his well being after his prolonged detainment. Of course, she was absolutely horrified to find what happened to him, but the ribbing remarks were her way of showing she cared. And Fancy Pants could appreciate that.
Almost as much as he appreciated his third burger.
The limo pulled up to Fancy's main office tower in downtown Canterlot- press conferences. He both loved and hated them, and he was pretty sure this was not going to be one of the good ones. Cameras flashed as he stepped out, reporters immediately dogging him and Mrs. Spice doing her best to keep them at arm's length.
"You'll have a chance to ask questions in the conference itself, wait your turn!"
The short walk to the podium felt agonizing as Fancy organized his thoughts. He cleared his throat, tapping on the mic.
"Ah- this thing is on, yes? Good, good." He chuckled as the reporters quieted. He let out a breath.
"Now, I'm sure many of you have questions, so I am going to cut to the chase and head off the obvious ones," He started, "One- yes, Tirek did remove my spell gem. It was a horrifyingly painful process that I do not wish on anyone- and the less I talk about it, the better."
The reporters murmured among themselves in quiet horror, and Fancy continued, "Two- I spent the entirety of my stay in a solitary cell. I cannot say if any of the other reported missing persons in Tauros were there. To the families of such persons, I offer my sincerest apologies. Were I able, I would have done everything in my power to spirit them away from that place with me."
"Three- Tirek's purpose for keeping me locked away was in order to try and steal technological secrets from their source- fortunately, he was unsuccessful. The exact methods of my escape, I'm afraid I must decline to explain."
Fancy cleared his throat one more time, "Now, my time in that... place. It's put a few things in perspective for me. This Tirek is a dangerous madman, with a ruthlessness I've never experienced first hand before. As such, I feel it is my responsibility to keep any sort of technology that could give him an edge out of his hands, and what with the increase in reports of smuggling and piracy out in the western seas, I can only think of one course of action that should be suitable."
"From this day forth, until I find a time more suitable, Fancy Industries will be ceasing it's military and Magitek manufacturing and development. No more further questions."
The crowd of reporters howled with shock, demanding answers to this course of action. Fancy kept his eyes forward as Mrs. Spice led him to the limo once again. Buckling up, he had only one more thing to say.
"Now, can I please just go home?"
Fancy breathed in deeply as the lights to his mansion lit up- home. His own couch. His own bed and television. Downstairs, his own workshop. It truly felt good to be back.
"This is an absolute press disaster, I hope you know," Mrs. Spice said. Fancy nodded.
"I am well aware, Mrs. Spice."
"Then I guess that means you did lose your mind out there," she retorted, flicking through a few files, before placing them on the coffee table, "I have some reports you'll need to go over, now that you're back. Hopefully you don't decide to shut down any more of our most lucrative sectors."
"Ginger," Fancy started, looking towards his assistant, "Do you think I did the right thing?"
Ginger Spice stopped, the professional mask of sarcasm fading for a moment, "... I want to hope that you did. Only time will tell, Fancy."
Fancy nodded, "I suppose that's fair. Now- I'll take care of all this, don't you have a son to go home to?"
Mrs. Spice nodded, "I'm sure Snails is used to my late nights, sir."
"Still not a reason to stick around," He replied, nodding towards the door, "Go on- far be it from me to keep a family apart."
"Thanks, Fancy," Mrs. Spice headed towards the door, pausing for a moment, "Get some rest, okay? You look like death, old man."
Fancy chuckled as the door shut, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck. As the engines of Mrs. Spice's car faded away, Fancy strolled through the foyer and towards the triple-locked door to the basement workshop. Scanning his hand and inputting a few codes, the door opened with a hydraulic woosh.
Lights lit themselves as he descended, walking towards the work table. He pulled out the roughed up papers hidden in his coat pocket- blueprints of the original suit and the micro thaum reactor that now lay nestled under the bandages on his forehead. The table whirred as the systems automatically scanned and interpreted the designs, a magical holograph building itself in real time as it worked. Fancy smiled lightly as he looked over the designs, already forming ideas of how to improve it.
"Time to get to work."
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So, if Fancy Pants is the Iron Man analog, does that me Fleur will be JARVIS?
7669537
Proooobably not, seeing as how she's kind of a high schooler at Crystal Prep too
Fancy Pants is going to have severe issues patenting the term Magitek. It's been floating around the culture for so long, it would be like trying to patent the word teleporter, or FTL.
Shrapnel to the heart or a chisel to the skull? Either way, you're in for a bad time... up until it's your captors' turn.
And no one said every tech genius had to be an earth aspect. The raw materials may not intrinsically like Fancy Pants, but the man is practically made of charisma. Still, the thaum reactor embedded in his forehead is probably going to draw some stares.
Poor Chysalis...she wanted to take down Tirek..
7670654
What makes you think she didn't?
7669984 The word wouldn't be patented (successfully or not); it would be trademarked. Though it's not clear from Fancy's dialogue that the author knows which of these verbs applies to what noun.
Huzzah for the Iron Man tribute! A few years ago, when the first movie was a recent thing and I was going to hand out treats on Halloween, I bought a round, black, hocky-puck-shaped multi-LED light with a little hook on the back for hanging it on things. I hung it on one of the button fastenings on the middle of my chest... It really did look something like Stark's implanted device.
Cheap fun is best fun.
8143517
It's called an arc reactor.