Act II - 08 - The Red Eye Home
Act II:
“Who Are You”
Chapter Eight:
“Red Eye Flight Home”
Rarity held Kili’s dead body in her arms, gently rocking it back and forth, her tears having long gone dry. She simply didn’t have the will to express her grief in another other way than a blank stare across the room at the rough cave walls. The world just no longer registered to her. Reality was simply too unreal. It was as if something inside of her had shattered, destroying any hope or sign of salvation that she might have had. Her only friend in this hellish place was now dead, and she was now completely and utterly alone. She was still in this shell-shocked state when she felt a paw roughly prod her.
“Get up!”
Rarity said nothing, instead simply looking up at the large diamond dog with a blank expression. The diamond dog simply poked her again, this time with a balled fist, sending her crumpling to the floor like a house of cards. Next thing she knew, she was being pulled to her hooves and dragged out of the room, still in a shell-shocked daze. She was just cognizant enough to notice that they were leaving Kili’s body behind, seemingly paying no heed to it. She weakly attempted to reach a hoof out towards it, only for it to be violently pulled back to her body by the diamond dog.
Any will to struggle was soon squashed as soon as the burlap bag came over her head, cutting off all light and muffling all the sounds around her. All she knew was that she was being dragged somewhere, but where it was she could not be sure. A part of her feared that she might be on the way to another brutal torture session, with her captors duty-bound to see her suffer in every possible way. But she did nothing to fight it. It honestly didn’t really matter to her anymore. They could do anything they wanted to her. The only thing that had honestly kept her from plunging into a bottomless pit of depression had been butchered in front of her for no other reason then just to see her suffer. What was the point of fighting? They had won.
She felt herself being thrown into another room, the door slamming just as her body hit the ground roughly. She rolled onto her back, noticing that the bag was still on her head. Noticing that her hooves were untied, she weakly pulled the sack off her head, tossing it asides.
This time, she was in a much smaller cave, apparently only large enough for herself and a cot, which was noticeably absent. With no bed to lie on, she quietly huddled in a corner, still completely silent.
///////////////////////////////////////////
Rarity didn’t know how long she huddled in that dank, wet corner of the cave. Time just seemed to slither along, minutes oozing into hours, hours sliding into days. Her mind was completely encompassed by an incredible sadness that she could barely believe was possible. Her chest felt hollow and her mind a blank. The only light for the room came from a small window at least ten feet above her. It served as the only indicator for the passage of time, and often, Rarity would simply watch as the light from the window slowly marched it’s way across the wall. This went on for at least four weeks, without a single wink of sleep. Any brief dozing off would result in her being assaulted by hundreds of demonic, glowing turquoise eyes and a voice cackling madly in her mind. After several such nightmares, Rarity resigned herself to simply staring at the wall across from her.
One day, the silence was interrupted by the rusty door opening to reveal a pair of large diamond dogs. Rarity tensed up slightly, fearing what they might do to her now. However, they simply placed another bag over her head. She felt herself being dragged through the caves again. After what seemed like an eternity of being dragged through tunnels and passageways, she felt a comforting warmth spread over her entire body, and a bright light could be seen poking through the bag’s loose stitching. The ambient noise sounded as if it were distributed over a larger area than normal, and the occasional cool breeze blowing over her coat told her that she was most likely outdoors. She felt herself being hefted up and dropped unceremoniously into a metal container, with a door slamming shut.
The loud sputtering growl of an engine caught her ears and she felt herself lurch forward slightly as whatever vehicle she was in began to trundle along, bumping violently every time it hit an obstacle of some kind. The drive lasted a good hour and a half, before it came to a stop, with Rarity completely at a loss as to where they were.
She heard orders being barked in a wide variety of foreign languages, before someone pulled her out of the vehicle, forcing her onto her hooves. She felt herself continually forced back onto her wobbly and weak legs, which only now she realized, hadn’t really been used in almost five weeks. An explosion of light hit her eyes as the sack was pulled off her head and she blinked rapidly, her eyes unadjusted to the sudden bright sunlight.
As everything slowly drifted into focus, she realized she was standing out in the middle of an open salt flat. Next to her, there stood a large diamond dog, apparently there to guard her. She looked around. Besides the one or two large trucks that stood around them, which Rarity assumed were the trucks that had taken her here in the first place, there was nothing but an empty, flat, seemingly endless expanse of salt.
Am I going to die now? she thought worryingly, wondering if this was going to be the place where they would finally end her life with a bullet to her skull, leaving her body for the buzzards or whatever scavengers wandered about this Celestia-forsaken frying pan.
However, as her mind ran through dozens of the various ways they would most likely end her life, Rarity’s ears caught the distinct droning of a zeppelin’s engine and she looked skyward, squinting slightly as her eyes caught sight of a silvery, cigar shaped zeppelin coming steadily.
The zeppelin slowly and gently came to a landing a good five hundred feet away, still managing to kick up quite a bit of dust and salt, causing Rarity to hack and cough furiously. As the drone of the engines died away, she saw a small clutch of ponies stepping out of the zeppelin and walking towards her. It was somewhat comforting that the tail fins of the zeppelin were emblazoned with the bold red and gold of the Equestrian military, but Rarity still had no honest idea what was going on.
It was only when the group of ponies, all dressed in military kakis, came to a stop a good two dozen feet away, that Rarity could see a gruff looking diamond dog standing among them, his paws cuffed. A certain yellow mare with an orange mane came walking up, facing Rarity directly, her eyes hidden by her aviator sunglasses.
“Ms. Belle, I’m Major Carrot Top of the Equestrian Air Force. You alright?” she asked.
Rarity blinked. It was the first time she’d heard anyone speak to her without an accent in almost two months. She simply nodded, unable to find the right words. The yellow earth pony smiled slightly, nodding before turning to face one of the diamond dogs.
“You can have your guy now. We’ll be taking Ms. Belle off your paws,” she said, before glancing back towards her own fellow ponies and giving them a curt nod. One of the other soldiers nodded and they began to steadily walk the diamond dog prisoner towards his compatriots, while Carrot Top gently took Rarity and began to walk her to the zeppelin.
“Wh-what’s going? Wh-where are you taking me?” Rarity asked, her voice frail and thin.
“Taking you home Ms. Belle. Taking you home,” Carrot Top answered plainly, and Rarity simply stared, unable to believe that her ordeal was finally over.
///////////////////////////////////////////
Light Bright shifted in his chair slightly, trying his best not to let his omnipresent anxiety evident as the monocle touting unicorn behind the oakwood desk carefully studied Light Bright’s blueprints and sketches.
“So what does this machine do exactly?” Fancy Pants asked, still studying the blueprints closely.
“Um, well sir, it’s basically a magical enhancement helmet. It takes the ambient magic in the air, channels it through a centralized crystal, and then combines it with the wearer's natural mana reserves and then the user can channel it to do whatever they please.” Light Bright said, motioning to the dozens of complicated calculations and formulas that covered the blueprint for the helmet.
Fancy Pants raised an eyebrow slightly. “That is certainly interesting….any possible military applications? After all, my company is rather, well, militaristic.”
Light Bright reflectively ran a hoof through his mane. “I assume so, yes,” he replied meekly. Fancy Pants seemed pleased by this little detail, as his eyebrows relaxed and he smiled slightly.
“That’s what I like to hear my good stallion,” he said, reaching into a drawer on his desk to pull out a cigar. “Now, before we go any further with this, Mr. Bright, I must ask you...how much might will this all cost me?” he asked around his cigar, puffing it and raising an eyebrow inquisitively, “I trust it shall be cost effective?”
Light Bright shifted in his chair again, taking a breath and reflexively adjusting his tie. He had been dreading this moment since he had been invited. He knew full well that his design would likely run in the pricy range, but he still hoped that maybe, just maybe, Fancy Pants would be different, and be willing to take a gamble.
“Um, well, Mr. Pants, by my calculations, it should cost approximately twenty million bits to fund,” he said, and Light Bright could immediately tell that those were the last words Fancy Pants wanted to hear. Fancy Pants let out a sigh, and steepling his hooves, leaned forwards slightly, cigar still in mouth. He exhaled through his nose, the ensuing billow of smoke giving him the aura of a displeased dragon.
“Mr. Bright, the reason I even considered hiring you is because, due to the rather strenuous state of things in the wake of Rarity’s...disappearance, you seemed like the best, and, might I remind you, least expensive option. If I wanted to spend a million bits on something I could get for a thousand, I would have gone to Dr. Time Turner. Understand?”
Light Bright slouched slightly. He hoped that this job opportunity would give him a chance. His whole life he’d been stepped on and poked fun of, be it for his name or his ideas, which no one ever took seriously. Now, it finally seemed that someone was taking him seriously, giving him a chance, only to perform a complete face-heel turn in the sight of the amount it would cost them.
“Y-yes Mr. Pants...I understand,” he finally said. There was a long pause between the two as neither really said anything, Fancy Pants puffing away and Light Bright sulking in the chair. The silence was broken by the sudden ringing of the desktop phone, with Fancy glancing down at it before looking at Light Bright.
“Pardon me a moment,” Fancy Pants said, clicking a blinking white button on the phone. “Yes Keystroke?” he asked, awaiting the response from the secretary on the other end.
“Mister Fancy Pants, there’s a call for you on Line 29. Says it’s urgent.”
Fancy Pants furrowed his brow slightly, “Alright then. Put it through.” He released the button and faced Light Bright again.
“Dr. Bright, It has been nice speaking with you, but I am sorry, but I must take this long distance call. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Um, no, no I don’t” Light Bright said glumly, taking the blueprints from Fancy Pants and stuffing them back in the overstuffed briefcase from which they came. He slowly walked out, not saying a word.
“Dr. Bright!” Fancy called out, and Light Bright paused, his hoof already out the door.
“Yes Mr. Pants?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Let it be known that I didn’t explicitly say that you aren’t being considered for the job in R&D. I’m still considering it. Understand?”
Light Bright nodded slightly, Fancy Pants’ words almost managing to bring him out of the dumps. “I understand sir. Goodbye.”
“Farewell,” Fancy Pants answered, just as Light Bright stepped out the door. As soon as the door closed, Fancy Pants picked up the phone, clearing his throat.
“Hello, this is Fancy Pants. What is it?” he asked, furrowing his brow slightly. Line 29 was almost exclusively used for vitally important or emergency information.
“Turn on the television,” came the voice of one of his half-dozen secretaries. Fancy Pants sighed and levitated a remote control out of his desk drawer and turned on the television. “What channel?” he asked, unamused.
“Any news channel! Trust me it’s very important,” the secretary said, and Fancy Pants rapidly clicked over to the news channel that his secretary had mentioned. He was greeted by a sight he honestly hadn’t expected at all.
“And in a shocking development, famed inventor and military weapons designer Rarity Belle has finally been returned after almost eight weeks in captivity. Authorities have not yet revealed the exact method of her rescue, but sources inside BelleCorp hint towards a possible ransom payment as the cause for her sudden release. When asked to confirm the rumors, the Equestrian Government has opted remained silent.”
Fancy Pants’ jaw tightened slightly, and he narrowed his eyes.
This won’t do at all, he thought, only to be reminded that he still had the phone up against his ear by the scratchy voice of the secretary.
“Well, did you see that?! She’s back!” the secretary said, his voice ecstatic. Fancy Pants merely let his eyebrows drop.
“Yes...I see it,” he replied, his tone completely level. He then hung up the phone rather tersely, paying no heed to the secretary’s confused response. He let out a sigh, simply gazing at the archive photo the news program had chosen for Rarity. It was one Fancy Pants knew well, with her smiling smugly, adorned in a bright red dress with a plunging neckline and a snow white mink scarf, eying the camera seductively from underneath her bang. Fancy Pants had always disliked the photo, as it highlighted every single aspect of Rarity that he hated. Her vanity, her haughtiness, her arrogance. It was all there, in brilliant color, and broadcast for the world to see.
Letting out a quiet snort, Fancy Pants flicked off the television, putting the remote back in it’s respective drawer and closing it quietly. He quietly snuffed out his cigar, tossing it into the wastebasket and making his way towards the door, turning off any computers or lights as he did so. As he left his office, his gait increased and he made his way brusquely down stairs.
“Did you hear about Ms. Belle?” came the voice of Ms. Keystroke as he passed. “And why are you leaving so early Mr. Pants? It’s only 2:30,” she added, her eyebrow raised in confusion.
“Sorry Keystroke, but I’ve very important business to attend to in regards to Ms. Belle’s return," he answered curtly as he stepped into the elevator, sharply hitting the down button.
///////////////////////////////////////////
Fancy Pants spent the ride home in the back of his limo, brooding. As soon as he had arrived home, he had ordered the staff to take the day off. Several of the staff had noticed how early he had come home and had enquired, but were soon silenced with the threat of unemployment. Once the house had been cleared, and he knew he was alone, he walked into the kitchen, tersely pulling out a bottle of 1942 Andalusian wine and pouring himself a glass.
He then opened a draw in the countertop, pulling out a small, black cell phone. Technically, the phone didn't even exist. That was because the phone was for one express purpose. Contacting a certain 'business' partner that was, to most ponies, an artifact of various overly paranoid imaginations. Fancy Pants quickly dialed a number, putting the phone to his ear and tapping a hoof impatiently.
"Hello Fancy Pants. I was expecting this call," came the deep voice from the other end, and Fancy Pants nodded tersely.
"Yes, I assume you would be, Lord Ahuizotl?" he replied, doing his best to remain cordial despite his frustrations. "What happened to the plan we had discussed?"
Fancy Pants could have sworn that he heard a sarcastic sigh from the other end. "Which plan my friend? You must be more specific," Ahuizotl replied, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
Fancy Pants gritted his teeth slightly and stifled a groan of frustration. "The plan that I would give you Rarity, she'd be your golden goose for awhile, and then they find her corpse in a ditch or something after a year. That plan!"
"Ah yes, that plan. Well, you see, Fancy, you must understand something. First off, I can’t just kill her. If I were to just kill her, I would have attracted quite a bit of unwanted attention. She’s not just some random mare I picked up off the street. She’s rather popular back on your side of the world, and therefore, I’d be bringing quite a bit of wrath on my head.” Ahuizotl said calmly. “And further more, money is a prime motivator for me as well.”
“What do you mean ‘money’? I was going to pay you after you offed her.” Fancy Pants said, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, it seems someone got to me first,” Ahuizotl replied.
“Well how much did they pay you?” Fancy Pants asked again, blinking in confusion.
“Oh...somewhere around fifty million bits or there abouts. Fine money. It also seems that Ms. Belle made a friend while in the caves.”
“Friend? What do you mean friends? Rarity doesn’t make friends,” Fancy Pants replied, furrowing his brow slightly, both at the news of Rarity making a friend and the fact that he had been outbidded by someone.
“Well, apparently she made one this time,” Ahuizotl replied. “Sadly, the friendship had to be terminated by yours truly. Diamond dogs do tend to bleed easily,” he added nonchalantly.
“Diamond dog? What are you talking about?”
“One of my other prisoners. He spoke out of turn and suffered the consequences. Apparently it was too much for our mutual acquaintance, and she’s spent the past five weeks staring at a wall.”
Fancy Pants stomped a hoof. “Please tell me we were able to acquire something from her before her mind decided to clock out?” he asked in frustration, hoping that, at the very least, he could squeeze some sort of prize out of Rarity’s suffering.
“When you told me that she was incredibly skilled, I honestly didn’t believe you, but my, my, she has been able to craft not only a mana reactor that was able to fit inside of her chest, but also made good headway on some form of power armor.”
“What?! How was she able to do that? I thought you only provided her with the most basic of tools?!” Fancy Pants said, shaking his head in both confusion and frustration.
“Well, apparently, a box of scraps is a gold mine to her,” Ahuizotl answered, apparently bemused by the sound of frustration in Fancy Pants’ voice. Fancy Pants rolled his eyes in frustration, letting out a long sigh.
“I should have seen this coming,” he grumbled, rubbing his temples with both his hooves while he held the phone aloft in his magic for a moment. “Did she leave anything else?” he asked.
“Just some sketches. And before you start begging and pleading for them like a helpless child, yes, I will be sending them to you as soon as possible. I do honor my agreements you know. Expect them from the ghost server as is the norm. Good night,” Ahuizotl answered, hanging up with a beep, leaving Fancy Pants standing alone in the kitchen.
Fancy let out a sigh. He had honestly hoped that this gambit he had so doggedly pursued would finally rid himself of that horribly vain, wasteful, and self absorbed mare. But alas, it seemed the universe was dead set on keeping her around, always the thorn in his side. But even he had to admit that, disregarding her constant misappropriation of funds to stock up her liquor cabinet or purchase a new car or a new yacht, Rarity was Fancy’s golden goose. Without her, Fancy would have probably been half as wealthy as he was now. So even if his bet on her demise hadn’t quite managed to go over like he had planned, he had managed to put her out of the game for awhile. If Ahuizotl was right in saying that she was in a semi-catatonic state, that would grant Fancy ample time to go ahead with his initial plan to the board and discreetly suggest that he step into her role as head of the company. Simple as that.
And if Ahuizotl was correct, and Rarity had in fact been able to craft something as complicated as a chest sized mana reactor that actually worked and had apparently been able to avoid any catastrophic failure (unlike the last few attempts), then, indeed, it seemed that Rarity had given Fancy one last golden egg.
With that attempt at self-comfort on his mind, Fancy Pants left the kitchen, already preparing himself for the next day. If it was going to be anything, it would most certainly be a busy day.
///////////////////////////////////////////
Written Script paced back and forth on the airstrip, occasionally looking skyward in hopes that the zeppelin would soon arrive.
Standing close by, dressed in her pastel blue sundress and sunhat, and watching him with concern, was Sweetie Belle. The reason for her being here and not with her parents, was because Magnum and Pearl were otherwise occupied with one of Pearl’s prestigious fashion shows. When Written had informed them of Rarity’s return, Pearl was quick to say she would, quote: “Not indulge in her attempts to garner my attention.”
Written Script had never been a fan of Pearl, always finding her a cold and alienating mare who only seemed to care about something if she could somehow save money while doing it, or if it had something to do with fashion. Her constant habit of belittling her children did her no favors in his eyes either. Written Script had no idea what Magnum saw in Pearl, but whatever it was, it was only seen by Magnum.
“Um, Mr. Script, do you think Rarity is okay?” came Sweetie Belle’s voice, bringing him back to reality and away from his tangent on Pearl Belle.
“I hope so Sweetie Belle,” he replied, finally noticing how she was staring at him. He let out a sigh and sat down next to her. “I mean, she’s been held captive for two months…” he said, trailing off as he felt it might not be prudent to burden Sweetie Belle with any additional worries. The past two months had been stressful enough for her, what with her older sister being kidnapped by terrorists. To dump all his worries onto her would just be mean.
“Why did they ponynap her?” Sweetie Belle asked suddenly, and Written Script shifted his weight slightly, nibbling his lip.
“I don’t really know Sweetie, I don’t really know. I guess they’re just bullies.” He twiddled his thumbs idly.
“I don’t like bullies,” Sweetie Belle replied, leaning against Written Script slightly. Written Script nodded.
“Me neither Sweetie, me neither.”
They sat there for a few more minutes, neither speaking as the zeppelin finally came into view, coming to a landing and kicking up a fair share of dust off the tarmac. Written Script braced himself, hoping that whatever damage Rarity had suffered was only minor, if only for Sweetie Belle’s sake.
The door to the zeppelin opened, letting out a long ramp and, seated in a wheelchair at the top, was a white unicorn mare, whose coat had noticeably faded, her eyes sunken in and darkened as if she hadn’t had a single nights rest in weeks. Her mane, which previously shimmered a brilliant purple, now sagged in front of her face, a veritable nest of split ends and dark with dirt. It didn’t help that she looked as if she had lost a good twenty pounds, and her legs looked rather gaunt, which stood out in wild contrast to the brand spanking new dress she was wearing, one that had obviously been given to her by someone else, if the mismatched cutie mark print were any indication.
A small spark could be seen forming in Rarity's otherwise vacant eyes when she looked at them, and a thin smile spread across her face. She was gently wheeled over to them, with neither Sweetie Belle or Written Script saying anything, as they took in the surprising sight. Rarity came to a stop in front of them, looking up at Written Script.
“Hello Script. How you doing?” she said, her voice thin and stale. Written Script suddenly spread his arms and pulled her into a hug.
“Oh thank Celestia you’re safe!” he said, and Rarity simply looked around rather awkwardly, before gently nudging him out of the hug.
“Th-that’s okay Script, I’m fine. Just a little tired,” she said, brushing herself off slightly as Written Script nodded. Rarity looked up at him, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“Written Script, are you crying?” both her and Sweetie Belle asked simultaneously. Rarity cast Sweetie Belle a brief cold glance before looking back at Written Script.
“Well? Are you?” Rarity pressed. "Because those look an awful lot like tears dear.”
“No.” Written Script was quick to reply, nodding his head slightly. “It’s just tears of joy. Have you spend two months looking for a job in a town where everypony has eight secretaries.”
Rarity chuckled slightly, a wistful smile on her face. “I understand Written Script, no need to worry,” she let out a heavy sigh, already feeling a little drowsy. “By Celestia, I need coffee. Want to get some coffee Script?” she asked, as Written Script walked around and gently began to push her wheelchair.
“Yeah, I guess coffee’s good. Where do you want to get it?” he asked, already pointing them towards the limo sitting aways away. A familiar grey earth pony tipped his cap and opened the door for them, helping to gently lift Rarity inside the limo.
“Thank you very much Hobbes,” she sighed, allowing herself to relax and settle in the chair slightly. Written Script led Sweetie Belle around the other side and the pair stepped inside, with Sweetie Belle taking her seat next to Rarity and giving her a quick hug.
“I’m so happy you’re safe sis!” she said, snuggling against Rarity. Rarity tried to nudge Sweetie Belle away, but apparently, the filly would not be deterred. Rarity let out the quietest of grunts as Sweetie Belle continued to hug her, and she looked at Written Script expectantly. Written Script nodded slightly and reached over to pry Sweetie Belle off of Rarity as gently as possible.
“Let Rarity have some rest Sweetie, she’s been through a lot,” he said, and Sweetie Belle blinked.
“Oh...yeah...sorry Rarity,” she said, scooting to the opposite end of the limo. Rarity nodded slightly, turning to look out the window as it began to drive along. There was a long silence between the three as the limo drove along.
“Where are we going Script?” Rarity asked, glancing towards him from her window seat.
“The hospital. I mean, not to be rude, you look like you've been though a lot,” he replied, and Rarity nodding slightly.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” she said, once more looking out the window. Written Script raised a concerned eyebrow.
“You sure?” he asked and Rarity nodded.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve already been checked by several doctors on the way over, and they all said the same thing. That I should just get some rest,” she said somberly, letting out a sigh and shifting her weight slightly. “And honestly Script, there’s nothing I would like better than to just go home and fall asleep. Wouldn’t you say so?” she asked, turning to look at him with tired eyes.
Written Script paused, simply looking at the sheer exhaustion that Rarity seemed to be enveloped in. Never in his entire life had he ever seen her look so tired. There was also a sadness in her eyes that Written Script couldn’t quite explain. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh, turning to tap on the window behind him.
“Hobbes, change of plans. We’re going home, okay?” he said, and Hobbes nodded.
“Of course sir,” Hobbes answered and the window closed again. Written Script looked back at Rarity to see her smiling slightly.
“That better?” he asked sincerely, and Rarity nodded, closing her eyes and already seemingly beginning to drift off to sleep..
“Much better,” she sighed, and within moments, Written Script was greeted by her quiet snores, as she slept with a smile on her face.
Rarity’s long nightmare was over, and she was finally, at long last, at home.
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Fancy Pants as The Iron Monger... didn't see that coming not bad my friend.
There's only one problem that I can see with this, and it's that the next chapter is missing. I hope you post it soon, or this innocent muffin will be sent to the Colosseum to fight a grey pegasus with misaligned eyes.
Yay!
Iron Mare updated, now to continue reading the... wonder... ful...
Oh.
I remember where we left of...
Take your time; it's your story, and you should do what you think is best.
That being said, I still think Fancy Pants saying he's got a long distance call is needlessly wordy
NEXT CHAPTER! NAAAAOOOOOWWWWW!!!
Seriously though, I'm liking the build-up until the suit is built (build-up, built
).
So...
...another good chapter that I liked reading.
For a moment, I was beginning to wonder why she hadn't finished building the suit. After I read your author's note, however, I understood why you didn't have her do it. Tony Stark and Rarity are two completely different individuals, and therefore, would handle situations differently. If Tony Stark loses someone close to him, then he goes into 'kill them all' mode. With Rarity, if she loses someone that's close to her, then she goes into a sort of denial/catatonic state. On that note, I have actually seen Rarity in this type of mode before in a couple of other stories. So I think you did a pretty fine job.
With Fancy Pants being 'The Iron Monger', I kind of saw that one coming ever since you introduced him to us as Rarity's business partner. Still doesn't eliminate the amount of shock value that I still have with him playing that role in the Ponified Marvel universe though.
Also, I noticed that Rarity is still acting coldly towards Sweetie Belle. I hope to Celestia that you have Rarity begin to change her attitude towards her sister soon because if she doesn't change her attitude towards her, then I'm going to get pretty darn mad at her. Please note, that this is just me ranting, but I want to explain a couple of reasons why I would be mad at her.
1. The concept of family is really important to me and I would hate to see Rarity continue to disregard Sweetie.
2. Sweetie Belle is an innocent, young filly and deserves to be treated with the kindness that she deserves.
3. To put it bluntly, my third and final reason is that Sweetie Belle is my favorite out of the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
Anyway it's good to see an update from this story again. Good chapter and I look forward to the next one.
~ Super-Brony12
3394938 Dude thank you so much for understanding my idea!
And yeah, don't worry, Rarity and Sweetie Belle will patch things up.
Mar-Vell? The Kree?
Meh, they're nowhere near as cool as Billy Batson and the Magic of Shazam.
3395473 Don't worry I'm having him too. But that's not until Phase Three or somewhere thereabouts.
Well, I must admit, despite the change in direction, I like this a lot. I think Rarity will get furious eventually, probably when she finds out Fancy betrayed her, looking forward to that.
Also this part:
When Written had informed them of Rarity’s return, Pearl was quick to say she would, quote: “Not indulge in her attempts to garner my attention.”
That was cold, like dead cold.
I think that explains why Rarity is still acting cold toward Sweetie even though Sweetie is clearly trying to show her how much she missed Rarity. It's because Rarity has always seen Sweetie as a little Pearl. It'll take a bit more than showing up at her return to change that, that however puts Sweetie way above Pearl.
Why the he'll did they let her go? Makes no fucking sense.
and who will eventually fill the war machine/iron patriot armor?
3403177 Sweetie Belle.
Haven't quite figured out the mechanics of it all, but I know it's happening eventually. Not in this story though that I can assure you. Hopefully Iron Mare 2...
You should add a comedy tag. I mean. Its an Iron Man crossover. Meaning shenanigans wille ensue.
3408426 Well I think 'comedy' would be unjust. the story isn't comedic, but rather a drama that might have a comedic scene here or there.
3408461 true, true.
Warning: Don't drag the suit thing on to long. You'll lose your readers attention very quickly if you do
3411007 Oh trust me I won't.
Even though my main goal is to write a good character driven story. Action comes second to character no matter what.
Please tell me you have Jarvis in this version or atleast pony version of him I liked him. A lot.
3431052 Don't worry he'll be here
Won't be named JARVIS though. But TOM
3477590 oh damn it your right!
Yeah I'll go fix that reference
3477590>>3478517 ct.fra.bz/ol/fz/sw/i54/5/6/21/frabz-YEP-THATS-MY-BRO-f12d1c.jpg
3500239 yes to both those things mate!
3500265 Awesome! Considering Turner came to the conference with "a gray blonde pegasus,"I'd guess that Derpy gets to be the Invisible Woman.
Mare. Whatever. THAT should be interesting. 
Ponies don't have arms
Ponies don't have thumbs, either.
You seem to be confused about what characters have arms and hands and which ones don't. Written Script is a unicorn and has neither arms nor hands. I've noticed this for quite a few chapters, actually...