it was spiders
The probably-a-robot glowered at them, mostly because its eyes were shaped that way. “You tried to kill a kid,” it accused.
Affixed to the wall by some Terminator liquid-metal shit, Blitzø rolled his eyes. “Key word: tried. Target’s still alive –" his eyes flicked over to the scruffy-haired spandex-wearer “– so no big whoop. For you at least, ‘cause we don’t get fuckin’ paid for getting caught.”
Red tin-can man jabbed a finger. “After this question time’s done, you’re getting soap in your mouth – “
“Bold of you to assume that’s not one of my kinks.”
“There is a MINOR present – “
“Mr Stark!” The kid spoke up – he really was a kid, had his voice even broken yet? Had he even hit puberty – “It’s cool, okay, I appreciate you looking out for me – but it’s not like I haven’t heard or seen that kinda talk before…”
“Okay, kid, we’re gonna discuss that later.”
“I’m seventeen!”
Blitzø cackled. “Really, squeaker? Cause ya don’t sound it. Have your balls even dropped?” The spandex infant flushed – he’d hit a sore spot.
“There are many things wrong with what you just said,” Mr Stark growled, pinching its forehead in a very un-robot-like way, “but we are digressing from the point that YOU, Things 1, 2, & 3, almost killed a teenager! Intentionally!”
“Ya say that like there’s a distinction,” Millie drawled goadingly somewhere from Blitzø’s right. “What, ya done any unintentional murder as of late, Mistah Stark?
Stark almost no-selled the barb, but Blitzø immediately noted the pause, how the metal shell stiffened ever-so-slightly. (Takes one messed-up feelings-repressing clown to know another.) “No comment.”
A sigh from the left – oh, fuck Moxxie, don’t get all wimpy-soft-hearted again. “Excuse me, Mr Stark? Uh – we were not informed of the age of our target, and we didn’t know until Millie pulled his mask off.” Blitzø wished he could turn his head, subject Moxxie to a vicious glare. “Had I known from the start I for one would have objected to this mission.”
Stark stared down at Moxxie. “You’re pretentious… but I dislike you a little less now.”
“Keep him if you want,” Blitzø snarked, and ignored Millie’s attempt to kick him in the shin.
“Hey, I appreciate the sentiment,” Spandex responded to Moxxie with the same puke-inducing earnestness. “And it's not the first time someone’s tried to shoot me this year…oh crap.”
The robot had taken its head off. There was a human head underneath – bearded, dark eyes, salt-&-pepper hair. Was he still just a head on a robot body, or was it just a lame old mech armour suit? “Okay, Pete, why am I hearing about this just now?”
“Uh-uh-I didn’t think it was a big deal, y’know, cause I didn’t get hit any of those times and I dealt with it –“
“I thought I programmed KAREN to inform me of those sorts of life-threatening incidents – have you and your friend Ted been hacking the code again?”
“It’s Ned – no. Well, yes – “
“There we go. I am proud of your skillset, kid, but it stings just a bit that you’re trying to hide from me when you get hurt or put in danger."
“Aren’t you supposed to be interrogating those guys, Mr Stark?” Spandex waved a hand in the direction of the imps.
“Don’t change the topic, Underoos.”
“Yeah, Underoos, stay on target,” Blitzø called, bored of being ignored if he was honest (which he wouldn’t be). “Don’t mind us.”
Moxxie hissed. “Sir, do you have to be such an attention-seeking loudmouth?”
“Do you have to be such a pussy anytime we’re asked to take out a literal fetus?”
“Can you please stop making fun of my age and voice?”
“And while ya at it, stop insulin’ mah husband!”
“But it’s funnnn…”
“SIR!”
"BLITZ!"
Stark dragged his hand down his face. “I’m a billionaire, and I am still not paid enough to deal with this.”