Novel & Cerita Iron Man Black And Gold Suit

“Is there a problem?” I turn to find a wall of black, black suit, black shirt, black tie, wrapped in an elegant, long black coat. I’m well aware at five foot six I’m not all that tall, but I have to crane my neck to find yellow eyes glowing down at me. Yellow eyes? Gold and amber eyes I’ve seen, but nowhere except the cats I love have I have ever seen yellow as bright as in this man’s eyes.

“Eira of Silvermoon Kingdom versus Ironwall of Blackrock Kingdom!” Gasps erupted instantly among the spectators. Ironwall was an infamous figure feared throughout Blackrock City. He was no ordinary contestant, but the ultimate killing weapon of the Blackrock Royal Guard. Standing two point two meters tall, he was always encased in three-hundred-pound dark golden heavy armor. Most daunting of all was his innate energy immunity. Any elemental primal power would bounce harmlessly off his armor and unique physical constitution. He was an impenetrable fortress built purely for physical combat.

And oh Moon, did he look like royalty incarnate. His suit was a deep obsidian black with silver embroidery curling like ancient runes across his shoulders and sleeves. The fabric shimmered faintly in the light, tailored to perfection against his powerful frame. A high collar accented with lilac silk rose behind his neck, and his crest, the sigil of our pack, gleamed proudly at his chest in polished silver. He looked dangerous. Regal. Untouchable. Mine. “Stop staring,” he teased, adjusting one of his cufflinks. “No,” I shot back, stepping forward. “Let me.”

Is that even a man? He was huge. Not in a fat-way kindof huge but in a I-kill-people-and-eat-their-bones-for-breakfast kinda huge. An unsmiling very handsome face—if her drunken eyes are telling her the truth—muscular like a bodybuilder, black hair and arms like tree trunk. He-aven-ly bra! The only thing screaming I'm 'out-of-place-here!' is the black suit he was wearing—it just doesn't belong. It looks like it's trying to 'tame' him, and failing miserably for that matter. The man put the 'R' in Scary.

Vicoliz said, lifting up the golden metallic glove carved like a hand known as 'The Psalmist hand' from the centre table. "Just wear it like the way Thanos wore the gauntlet in Avengers" "Hmm" Vicoliz traced his fingers on the flawless gold like metal, as he felt lines drawn on it. He gently placed his hands into the glove and golden lightning sparked out, The rest of the team backed away as they waited for the smoke emanated from the golden spark to get cleared. "Oh my gosh!!" they all exclaimed Golden hair, golden eyes, golden tuxedo suit, golden shoes and a golden skin.

The suits were ready in two days. They were this full-body, extremely fitting like-a-second-skin, midnight blue, superhero-like suits. They clung to the bodies of the soldiers like wet polyester and were as tough as metal when struck from the outside. However, they weren't heavy neither did the soldiers feel like they were wearing the toughest and strongest uniform on earth. Impenetrable.

'Yup, Tiles we're that clean. Black pants followed by a shiny Black buttoned-up suit followed by a black mask. He is massive, too big for his good, really, but he’s also handsome-so handsome-with blue drowning eyes that were ruddy. All I saw was his size and it intimidated me. His black locks seemed luscious.

At the moment, Mia’s heart skipped a beat when the flowers in front of her moved, revealing the presence of the man who had been overturning her life for several days. The man appeared to be the same as before. A black suit glued to his body, with an equally black tie, ink-colored hair, and light-colored eyes. The only difference is that his eye-bags seem hanging, which does not hinder his strikingly gorgeous face. Jaxon locked his focus on Mia, his sweet stare full of emotions poised to erupt.

Out of everyone, he had been waiting for this version of me to come back the most. By 8:45 a.m., I was ready. I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror as I walked by. And my outfit gave exactly what I needed it to give; the armor of a boss. I wore a charcoal-grey suit that fit perfectly across my shoulders. Then, I left the top two buttons of my black dress shirt open, revealing the ink crawling up my throat. I strapped my gold Rolex onto my left wrist, the metal catching the light, and adjusted the heavy gold chain on my right. I looked sharp and dangerous. I looked like a Russo.

There was only the mist, the terrifying silence, and the ghost of the man who had built my nightmare. "Look at you," CEO Vane said, his voice cutting through the silver quiet without the aid of a comms-unit. He stepped down from the ramp of the black interceptor, his "Void-Suit" shimmering with a fluid, white-gold lattice that looked like it had been spun from the crust of the cracked moon. "Still clutching that broken piece of iron. Still pretending that a scrapper’s blade can cut through the fabric of reality, #3."