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stark_spangled]
Dec. 3rd, 2015 12:21 pm[The reason why lawyers are sometimes called sharks is because they almost always go into a feeding frenzy when they smell blood. In most cases, the blood is just a metaphor for opportunity, but sometimes, the blood is real blood — and plenty of real blood was spilled during the Incident: billions in property damage, hundreds dead, thousands traumatized. Homes lost, businesses lost.
But it was just an incident. Saul rolled his eyes every time he heard the term thrown around on the news and in the streets; it's not like New Yorkers to downplay something like that, not like them to shrug off a tragedy of that magnitude and go on living their lives without demanding something be done beyond the half-assed press conference given by the Mayor about a national day of mourning and the planned building of a memorial. Saul knew something had to be going on behind the scenes, and he knew money had to be involved — people were either being paid off or threatened, or both. And he wanted in on the money side of things.
It didn't take long for his commercials to hit the airwaves, with words like "catastrophe" and "unfair" and "suffering" and "compensation" and "class action lawsuit" coming out of his mouth. It took even less time for Nick Fury to contact him, and it took even less time for the two of them to come to an agreement.
Fury had said something about Saul being Tony Stark's kind of guy, and that they could use someone like him. "I've seen those late-night commercials of yours. You and Stark speak the same language."
Saul looked him dead in his one good eye and laughed. "Stark and I have jack shit in common. Don't go telling me I can relate to a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist with a super suit, Mr. Fury. Emphasis on the billionaire. I'm just a regular guy trying to make a living, here. Tryin' to run my business, just like thousands of others in this fine city."
All Fury had to do was present Saul with a number. After he picked his jaw up off the table, they shook on it, and that was that. A pile of paperwork and numerous briefings and security screenings later, Saul found himself sitting opposite Tony and his assistant in an echo chamber of a meeting room, hammering out the details of what they'd do if x, y, and z were to occur. He felt like more of a legal consultant for Stark Industries than a lawyer, but hey — so long as he was getting paid, he literally could not find it in himself to complain.
And that's what brings him to Avengers Tower today: another meeting.
He's dressed in his usual garb, a light gray suit with a seafoam green shirt and somewhat matching striped tie underneath, shoes black and shiny, suitcase clasped firmly in hand. JARVIS greets him as he enters, informs him that Mr. Stark had to leave to take care of something but will be back shortly, and that he's been instructed to "keep an eye on" Saul while Tony is away.
"So basically, what I'm hearing is that you'll be babysitting me, and an alarm will probably go off if I touch anything."
"Precisely, sir. However, Mr. Stark would like you to help yourself to a drink."
Saul spins on his heel, thirsty gaze immediately falling on the bar. "Any drink?"
"Yes, sir."
Any drink.
That sounds an awful lot like an invitation to find the most expensive alcohol Tony owns, so that's what Saul's gonna do, and no one except the robot-filled security team Tony built can stop him.]
But it was just an incident. Saul rolled his eyes every time he heard the term thrown around on the news and in the streets; it's not like New Yorkers to downplay something like that, not like them to shrug off a tragedy of that magnitude and go on living their lives without demanding something be done beyond the half-assed press conference given by the Mayor about a national day of mourning and the planned building of a memorial. Saul knew something had to be going on behind the scenes, and he knew money had to be involved — people were either being paid off or threatened, or both. And he wanted in on the money side of things.
It didn't take long for his commercials to hit the airwaves, with words like "catastrophe" and "unfair" and "suffering" and "compensation" and "class action lawsuit" coming out of his mouth. It took even less time for Nick Fury to contact him, and it took even less time for the two of them to come to an agreement.
Fury had said something about Saul being Tony Stark's kind of guy, and that they could use someone like him. "I've seen those late-night commercials of yours. You and Stark speak the same language."
Saul looked him dead in his one good eye and laughed. "Stark and I have jack shit in common. Don't go telling me I can relate to a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist with a super suit, Mr. Fury. Emphasis on the billionaire. I'm just a regular guy trying to make a living, here. Tryin' to run my business, just like thousands of others in this fine city."
All Fury had to do was present Saul with a number. After he picked his jaw up off the table, they shook on it, and that was that. A pile of paperwork and numerous briefings and security screenings later, Saul found himself sitting opposite Tony and his assistant in an echo chamber of a meeting room, hammering out the details of what they'd do if x, y, and z were to occur. He felt like more of a legal consultant for Stark Industries than a lawyer, but hey — so long as he was getting paid, he literally could not find it in himself to complain.
And that's what brings him to Avengers Tower today: another meeting.
He's dressed in his usual garb, a light gray suit with a seafoam green shirt and somewhat matching striped tie underneath, shoes black and shiny, suitcase clasped firmly in hand. JARVIS greets him as he enters, informs him that Mr. Stark had to leave to take care of something but will be back shortly, and that he's been instructed to "keep an eye on" Saul while Tony is away.
"So basically, what I'm hearing is that you'll be babysitting me, and an alarm will probably go off if I touch anything."
"Precisely, sir. However, Mr. Stark would like you to help yourself to a drink."
Saul spins on his heel, thirsty gaze immediately falling on the bar. "Any drink?"
"Yes, sir."
Any drink.
That sounds an awful lot like an invitation to find the most expensive alcohol Tony owns, so that's what Saul's gonna do, and no one except the robot-filled security team Tony built can stop him.]
