Chaos in Gotham, or "Typical Saturday"
Roleplaying Log: Chaos in Gotham, or "Typical Saturday"
IC Details

Pepper Potts meets a CEO over lunch, so of course everyone gets some exercise.

Other Characters Referenced: Iron Man
IC Date: November 16, 2019
IC Location:
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 17 Nov 2019 14:14
Rating & Warnings:
Scene Soundtrack: [* ]
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

* OOC Time: Sat Nov 16 21:21:46 2019 *
(EDITOR'S NOTE: The log is a little messy in terms of narrative, a few of us were pretty tired, but the result was fun so who cares! Enjoy :) — Cassandra)

* * *

It had been an almost worrisome amount of time since Pepper had had a chance to catch up with Barbara. But when the need to have a sit down meeting with a potential new supplier of carbon nanotubes and similar, it was almost too perfect. She scheduled a mid-morning meeting with included lunch, and of course Babs was included, partly to help her book the best location for the meeting and meal, mostly so they could catch up.

The meeting looks to be starting off without a hitch, Pepper already in the private dining/meeting room of the chosen restaurant with her personal bot Turmeric hovering about prodding the tea set and coffee carafe just so. She's of course dressed for the occasion, wearing a deep teal pencil skirt and jacket with an apricot silk blouse. She greets the others as they arrive, inviting them to beverages and light snacks before they take their seats. It's almost like she does this sort of thing frequently. Just, in the Stark Tower conference rooms.

* * *

Colin was… doing his best. Truth be told, he wasn't expecting such an offer but given the size and scope of his company and how big a contract this could be he couldn't exactly turn it down. He spent a moment, fretting about the way his hair was sitting and the way his suit sat across his shoulders in the sun visor mirror of his truck, having been forced to take it along, torn up seat and all, due to yet more car troubles.

Still, he soon arrived on scene, smiling, exchanging pleasantries and generally trying to remember all the things he should be doing in such a negotiation, his eyes occasionally drawn to the hovering bot. "Pleased to finally meet you, great choice of location as well by the way, much better than anything I could have done. Especially on such short notice." He gave a little chuckle, shaking his head. "Probably would have just been my mess of an office and a box of biscuits laid out on the table."

* * *

A teenaged friend of Barbara, brought along for… some reason that is impossible to figure out (at least to said teen) is dressed in passable clothing rather than the ratty articles she had found that no one else wanted, but at least they fit. These more well-maintained and cared for articles are hardly the height of fashion but they don't draw a lot of attention. Everything is sensible. Sensible slacks that could probably stand up to her flinging a high kick or several, sensible sweatshirt with cutesey animal depiction, sensible shoes, and well nothing could be done with that hair. It's a mess. But it's not in her eyes so it's an acceptable mess for its wearer.
Speaking of its wearer, her attention is absolutely everywhere. This entire place is a novelty by the look of her, and given her moderately emaciated face, that's not surprising. She's directed to sit, and only after a direct look at Barbara does she comply with that directive, picking up the silverware, testing the table knife's balance on one finger, vertically speaking, snatching it from the air, realizing this is unacceptable from the looks she is getting, and setting the knife back down again.

* * *

At least Barbara isn't arriving with Cassandra in tow unexpectedly. Framing it as Babs looking after a foreign exchange student, she let Pepper know that her charge would be coming along and promised that she wouldn't interfere with their business meeting. Like a proper mid-generation Millennial, Babs is at the meeting in neat slacks, an airy cotton tunic knotted at one side, and a presentable blazer. She is seated with Cassandra in the dining room, very specifically not making eye contact with Cass, assuming she's following the directives the two laid out before they arrived.

She slips to her feet when Colin comes in, but she lets Pepper do the first introduction and welcome, and hers second with a firm handshake that only a cop's daughter could really achieve, complete with steady eye contact. "Barbara Gordon, thank you for agreeing to meet with us."

* * *

Greeting each arrival — yes, Cassandra included — with a sincerely polite and friendly smile, she waits for everyone to settle before starting the important business part of the meeting. Turmeric quietly and efficiently delivers papers and other tiny sundries to people as the meeting progresses, until it's just about lunch time.

At one point, the little flying bot seems to settle on Pepper's bag for a few minutes, then 'sneaks' up on Cassandra and drops a hairbrush in her lap. Pepper clearly didn't notice this.

"All right. Let's take about an hour to stretch our legs and get lunch. The restaurant is of course catering, but if anyone would like to sample any of the more uniquely Gotham offerings nearby, we'll be starting up again at," she glances at her watch, "one fifteen. Have a good lunch, everyone." She steps over to greet Babs properly as people get up and move around and Turmeric hovers up close to the ceiling out of the way.

"Barbara, I'm so glad you could make it. I hope this isn't too boring."

* * *

Handshake accepted! Colin too had a good, firm, businesslike grip. It was something he had practice a lot to be fair, especially when he started the company. A good handshake was part and parcel to a good first impression! Or, uh, well that line of thinking at least made sense to him. "Good grip you've got there Miss Gordon."

After that though, his attention again diverted to the drone, Colin noting the hairbrush and the way that thing was navigating. He was totally taking some mental notes and trying to figure out just how that thing was "seeing", so to speak, but then he saw the newspaper. One of the stories was about a bank robbery stopped by "Iron Man", yet the picture showed a rather distinct white suit. It took quite a bit of mental effort to not make comment on that one.

"One fifteen-" He said, quickly checking his watch. "Righto."

* * *

Wonder, quiet frustration, confusion, suspicious examination, neutral, these seem to be where Cassandra's expressions remain. Smile isn't one of those things. She does not. She studies. She watches people speak around her, never opening her mouth to provide input, even when someone tries to make small talk. She studies Colin for longer than anyone else, as though trying to figure out the solution to a particularly vexing puzzle. Then hairbrush comes to be on her lap, and she holds it up for a moment to examine it before it ends up on the table, set down and ignored.
Cassandra's eyes shift to Barbara a lot. They really wander everywhere but Barbara is whom she takes the most cues from, and her posture seems to echo. Not match. She isn't copying, but just based on how she moves, one could easily associate her with the commissioner's daughter. Handshakes are ignored. She was given emphatic discouragement regarding hitting anyone. The two are connected far more than one might realize in her case. It comes off as rude, and she comes off like she doesn't care. She does perk right up when food is brought to the forefront of discussion, attentive, ready, a little eager, very hungry.

* * *

Barbara's brow just slightly arches as Pepper's greeting, though there's also a warm smile creeping up the corners of her mouth. "I'm just happy to visit with you, Pepper. Business is just a bonus. Tony looked a bit morose when I told him I was visiting." She then gestures to Cassandra. "Cassandra here is getting her bearings, and I'm glad you let her come along. She's learning English and this is a great exposure for language." That is the language of business.

Then Babs turns to Colin again. "You can call me Barbara." Then she is looking back to Pepper as she slips her hands into the pockets of her slacks, her blazer pushed back to reveal more of her tunic shirt with its cottony textile. She glances toward Cassandra, and only then notices the brush. Almost suspiciously, she looks up at Tumeric with a half-quirk of a smile.

* * *

Pepper gestures to a small table to one side of the room clearly set aside for foodstuffs as waiters arrive with plates for those who chose to stay in. "Did he? Well, he could have come along if he'd wanted to, but I know this kind of meeting would have likely had him disassembling and reassembling Turmeric just to have something to do with his hands."

Perhaps of note to those who are in the habit of observing, the waiters are a strange mix of mostly burly-looking men with a few of the more seemingly normal college age men and women. They set the plates and baskets of rolls and similar down, and as most of them file back out, a few hesitate, then turn and pull pistols from where they'd had them concealed in their clothing.

"HEY," one man barks. "If you all stay calm and quiet, this'll all go smooth. Anyone tries to be a hero, that's when we're gonna have a problem." Then he points to Pepper and Babs. "You two, siddown."

* * *

Screw Gotham.


Screw. Gotham.

Colin had indeed gone to stretch his legs a little, and was just starting to make his way back when he saw all the weapons being drawn. Straining his ears to try to catch the conversation, he ducked behind a large shrubbery. pressing his back up against it and muttering something along the lines of hating this damn city.

His eyes wandered out to the car park, scanning around until he finally spotted his rather scuffed up old work truck. He had tried to park it out of sight, or at least, far enough out so that it didn't look like it was *his* per-say, but the large CarboTek logo emblazoned upon its rather muddy door kind of gave the game away there.

Staying low, he managed to work his way to the side, and jump on into the cab. Suiting up in here was no less awkward than before, though, having done it once before in such close quarters he was at least a fair bit quicker. He first squirmed into the undersuit, making a mental note that perhaps he should simply skip a step and wear it *under* his clothing next time around. Next was the suit itself, though instead of waiting around inside he instead got out and crouched behind the vehicle as he tightened all those bolts and fasteners, the rest of the battlesuit assembling around him *without* eating the other half of the truck's seat.






Colin took a deep breath, the man psyching himself up before flanking around the side of the building aaaand… Punching a hole in it, his big power armoured fists blasting clean through the wall and yanking out the pair holding Pepper and Babs at gunpoint!

* * *

Food! Finally! Cassandra is too busy thinking about it to pay attention to the armed muscle. Sure they are carrying concealed weapons but in her mind that just makes them more normal as part of the scenery than the unarmed versions. She's getting up when the guns are reached for, and time slows down in that instant for her. Heartbeat one: She sees a path from nearest to furthest that will take the guns away from them. Backbeat one: She's on that path, elegantly sweeping her arms past and taking with them the firearms like some weirdly magnetic baseball bat. Heartbeat two: Perfectly aligned, precise strikes begin, nothing more than light taps at just the right spot, and the subjects of her violence lose consciousness an instant after the word 'Siddown' is uttered. It's over for those few present who had the misfortune of drawing guns in the same restaurant as Cassandra. As time moves back in to its regular pace from her perspective, she's reminded immediately that she is not in top form, and moving at that speed is ill advised. She topples over toward Barbara.

* * *

"You know Tony — he says he wants to come while simultaneously making it impossible to get him out of his lab." Of course, Stark is up to his own mischief that Babs isn't tracking quite yet. So, she instead offers a warm smile toward Pepper. "You're probably right." She waggles her fingers up to Tumeric.

But, even while her head is tilted back, that niggling feeling in the back of her mind tells her not all is right with the world. She turns her head slightly, glancing around just as the pistols come to bear. She sighs out a short breath, glancing to Pepper knowingly. "Last time we have a meeting in Gotham?" It's a half-serious question because then Colin is — gone? But even she knows a good disappearing act when she sees it.

"Pepper, where did—"

And then Cassandra is on the move. She curses mentally. Next lesson— the art of being incognito. What should be noted is that Babs is not sitting down, no matter how intimidating that siddown had been.

* * *

Pepper's eyes follow Babs' to look up at Turmeric, just in time to NOT see the goons pull their weapons. But then Thug #1 starts talking and she turns quickly, going pale. She HATES this. Why does this happen so annoyingly often? "Last time."

Two of the thugs are Cass'ed and yanked out of the sudden hole in the wall almost instantly and Cassandra's collapsing, which startles Pepper almost more than being threatened did. Then there's a sudden electronic whine like servos moving faster than they're designed to and Turmeric is divebombing Thug #1's face as fast as her little drone flight capabilities allow.

* * *

(Editor's note: Added this to log after the fact) Outside, loud stompy noises approach where Colin's created a new window for the building. The attack on the restaurant is far from over, and four more who hold very loud-looking automatic weapons make their entrance on the main floor and take aim at the general location where several interferences are clustered. From that distance, they have the two redheads confused and aim at Pepper.

* * *

Stomping on through the new window waaaas… A great big suit of power armour! It was indeed the same one Cass saw at the bank, and was currently charging forwards in front of Pepper to shield her from the incoming fire which was seemingly giving it as little trouble as the wall itself, not even leaving a chip in the still pristine (or at least, pristine save for being covered in brick dust) white-grey paintjob.



It raised its arms, still standing out in the open to act as cover for the more squishy members of the party and still completely undeterred by the incoming fire as four little hatches opened in the suit's fists. From them fired four taser barbs, each one finding its mark on one of the gunmen and dropping them near instantly, even if the launch was perhaps a little messy, the system letting out a shower of sparks before sending them on their way with one of the wires getting caught inside the gauntlet.

* * *

Not unconscious this time! Cassandra is not looking entirely well but at least she's not bleeding and losing consciousness so there is progress. The meals have helped, the proper bedrest with actual undisturbed slumber. She hangs on to Barbara's shoulder to keep herself from going to the floor.
The chaos around Cassandra does not even register. SHe's busily not throwing up, and not just because there's nothing to throw up right now. She's keeping herself in check, looking pale, trembling, head pointed directly at the floor. It's just for a brief moment, and in that moment the gunfire snaps her back to alerted, but then with a taserful launch from the now familiar suit of armour, she's not needing to react again. Hope, she will learn, can cloud focus when it is combined with expected results.
Once more standing upright under her own power. Breadbasket. Raided. Several sticks are now hers. Appetizers in reach suffer similar fate. Decorum isn't even a factor. She's hungry, she feels like she just ran into a truck, and now her face is being stuffed.

* * *

"To be fair, I'm not sure Metropolis would have been much better. Perhaps we can just meet at Allen's place." Barbara's breath is tight in her chest as she slips a knife off the table she's standing beside, tucking it behind her thigh casually. She waits a breath, and then she launches forward at Tumeric's distraction, and she kicks hard into the closest goon's knee, aiming to take him down a notch. This might work well, and wouldn't be suspicious — hello, everyone can Google that Barbara Gordon was in karate competitions in high school. She's obviously kept up.

She turns her head toward the sound of the suit incoming, and she mumbles to Pepper just under her breath, "Stark?" But then she's turning just in time to spot Cassandra. Her lips thin, knowing that she's going to be explaining that one.

* * *

Thug #1 does indeed get distracted by Turmeric's trying to defend Pepper, but one vicious arm swipe sends the little bot squealing and tumbling to one corner of the room. More thugs are entering, not all of them willing to open fire … until Babs takes Thug #1 down. Then they're all firing at the biggest target in the room, Colin's armor.

Pepper gapes at the armor — clearly not a Stark design, far too Halo in appearance — then scrambles to get her bag. "FRIDAY!"

A muffled voice emanates from her bag, faintly Irish sounding female tones, "Authorities have already been notified, Miss Potts."

Pepper reaches into her bag, then stops and looks up as a shadow falls over her from the hole in the wall. "Master Chief?" she says a bit hesitantly. "Please tell me this is a friend of yours."

There's another power armor peering in through the hole. It's completely piecemeal and hideous in comparison to the HALO suit and anything Tony has EVER made, even the Mark 1 armor. And it's reaching a claw in toward Pepper, a bit slow about it due to the lack of room to move without getting hung up on pieces of restaurant wall.

* * *

Colin grumbled under his breath, trying to yank the stuck cable free from the now smoking taser ejection mechanism. Still, the pistol and even rifle caliber rounds were still having absolutely no effect whatsoever on the armour, though the heavier ones were sandpapering away at that nice new matte finish, revealing a strange, and almost completely unmarked black carbon fibre like material underneath the paintwork.

He turned to the remaining goons, weapons sliding out of his suit and whirring to life. From his wrists came two cannons, sliding out of hidden recesses and letting out a positively diabolical sounding electrical whine, while on his back two missile launcher pods folded up and locked into place. Colin's voice then came crackling out of the loudspeakers, sounding almost jovial at first. "Oh would you look at that, I'm out of non lethal munitions." His tone soon darkened. "Word of advice. Run."

Of course, Gotham being the *wonderful* city that it was couldn't leave the man in the suit feeling too good about things…




Colin was not happy about the goon in power armour showing up! So unhappy in fact, that he unloaded everything he had into it, missiles (fortunately of the kinetic and not high explosive variety) and hypersonic depleted uranium gauss rounds flying at the crude suit!

* * *

Chewing. Food. Cassandra finds that the chaos of the happenings around her have not only not subsidded as she expected with that initial felling of gunmen with the meager weapons that just happened to be in reach of herself and thus subject to her considerable skill, but now there are more automatic weapons, more stomping things like the one familiar armour suit that she has no idea what to make of. All the shooting is going after the armor. Perfect. The target of everything is clear to her. The friend of Barbara.
In a motion that looks perplexingly easy despite the timing necessary, Cassandra wheels around, rolling over the table and making a very big mess of things for everyone with spilled liquids and flung food, picking up every table knife in reach and flinging them one after another, blunt end first, into places that the still entering gunners would prefer to have zero knives. The impact is very painful upon the hands, taking the wind out of them when they hit a solar plexus, inducing a mild panic state as there is just enough impact with windpipe to make breathing harder for a moment. This solves Colin's lack of nonlethal munitions problem to some extent at least!
At the end of her journey across the table, Cassandra lands where Pepper is, just before the claw reaches to take hold, and without even asking, picks her up bodily and starts running low to the ground, under table first, then darting past that in an unexpected direction to another table, and starting to play a peculiar game of scurry-with-lady to confound any tracking eyes and grasping claws and any remaining shooty guns that still want her blood for some reason.

* * *

"ALTHENE," Babs breathes under her breath. "Please make sure that the right authorities have been notified." Welcome to Gotham City without a Gordon currently behind the commissioner's desk. She's taking several steps backwards, gauging the situation. Then she is on the move, crossing with swift steps toward the STAFF ONLY door where another pair of goons is joining the fight. Having an angry-looking redhead charging them has them staggering back where they will undoubtedly get their ass kicked by Jim Gordon's daughter.

In her own pocket, a warm and maternal voice reassures, "Detective Bullock has been notified."

And for once in Bullock's career, someone is extremely thankful that he's the primary detective enroute. She calls over her shoulder as she pushes her way through the door, "Cass! Stay on Pepper!" Not with, not near, on. In other words, please don't let someone get the drop on the other redhead.

* * *

The thugs pretty much all scattered when the Halo armor busted out the big guns and Barbara chased off after them, and the initial barrage of ordinance straight the hodge podge power armor knocks back and away several huge, stompy steps. Let's hope that there isn't a CarboTek vehicle in its way.

Pepper had been fully prepared to scramble away from that grasping claw, but getting picked up like a sack of potatoes was completely unexpected and because of her momentary surprise she doesn't immediately protest or struggle. The moment they pause, though, she has to speak up. "Stop, stop!" She's trying to be a bit quiet, at least. "I'll go find cover myself. You seem a lot more capable, maybe you should go help the Master Chief over there." She means Colin in his power armor.

"Here." She offers Cassandra what looks like one of the smaller civilian-grade tasers commonly available. "Tony modified it for me. It's only got enough battery for three zaps, but they're enough to send someone flying like the little kid in Jurassic Park. Go, quick."

Regardless of Cassandra's reaction, Pepper takes a moment to kick off her towering heels. Running barefoot is decidedly preferable at this point.

* * *


Alerts popped up all over Colin's HUD. Blinking text describing overheats, overtaxed systems, and even an ammunition feed jam in his left cannon. Still, seeing that thing stagger back he damn well knew that he had to keep up the momentum, even if another barrage like that could well and truly fry his systems.

Glancing around, he saw the decapitated top half of a table, one that at one point was likely holding all manner of delicious refreshments that were now well and truly scattered all over the place. He darted over to it, armoured boots skidding over the hard flooring that was now well and truly slick with crushed little cakes and snacks and hurled the thing across the ground, hoping to skip it right under the cruder suit's legs!

* * *

It's a good thing Cassandra's lack of following Barbara's directives will go largely unnoticed by the fiery readhead, because she certainly does not do what she was told, even if it's loud enough that she can hear everything clearly. She's focused on Pepper, pausing underneath one table and about to rush off to another but then paused. Cassandra takes a second to orient herself with what operates the device, recognizing it from seeing police with it out and pointed at someone. It's not a gun, and she is fine with it.
She darts again, this time without passenger, but the movement she makes is fast enough that it's hard to tell the difference from her previous undertable adventures. With the target safe by some standards, taser stowed into the front pocket of her slacks, she starts gathering knives, picking up somewhere over twenty-five of them. Colin's armour she has already tested. Solid, very few points of weakness that she could discern. The patchwork job, that one almost certainly has some highly specific and difficult weak spots she can probably exploit with just a little bit of probing. Ten knives are flung form her hands in rapid succession, the blade of them meeting the between plates, a couple of spots where the bullets struck. The information this act gives Cassandra is nothing on its own. The suit's wearer though, he speaks volumes when he checks on a particular spot, to see if it's still intact. That spot becomes very important to Cassandra too. When his armoured hand moves away from it to prepare himself for what Colin is doing, the finging of knives intensifies. Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink-clink-clink-clink-clink in rapid succession, each one hitting the precise spot as the last, an audible crack sound is finally heard as the last knife makes a tiny opening in the armour.
Once all of her knives have been flung, Cassandra goes undertable diving again, darting from one to the next to close the gap between herself and patchwork armour, rushing to slide beneath the flung table to cover her approach, taser in hand, poised to touch the cracked spot and give the wearer inside a taste of what Tony cooked for Pepper.

* * *

As soon as Cassandra moves away, Pepper gets her bearings and then quickly scrambles to place herself under a different table, this one with more fallen over chairs and similar detritus around it making her presence less visible. Hopefully. With her phone still in her bag way over there and Turmeric still laying in the corner where the poor little bot fell, there's not much else she can do besides stay out of the way.

The hodge podge armor recovers enough to stand up straight, get pegged by more than two dozen table knives (kudos to Babs and Pepper for choosing a restaurant with sturdy silverware), then is knocked clean off its feet by the low-frisbee table thrown by Colin. The thing is clearly not top notch construction.

Also, sirens are just ever so faintly audible now in the distance.

* * *

Colin was still putting as much pressure as he could on this much more improvised piece of hardware. He stepped forwards, finding a clear opening and fired his thrusters, sending a quick thumbs up in the direction of Cass and Pepper as his suit took to the air in a flurry of dust, smoke, and purple blue plasma flame which scorched the marble floor underneath him.

Those thrusters weren't exactly subtle and quiet like a repulsor would be, they were deafening things, spooling up with an almighty bellow akin to both a rocket engine and a jet all mashed into one as they kicked Colin rapidly upwards. He didn't stay up there too long though, hovering for just enough time to try and find an opening.



The firing of weapons this time was much more reserved, rather than simply letting them all loose at once, he dodged left and right as he tried to pick away and thouroughly smash the hostile suit's arm and leg actuators, firing off both a couple of gauss rounds at it, and his remaining two missiles.

* * *

Cassandra's undertable approach does not quite go according to what she had in mind. She wasn't hidden enough. When she darts to close in for the zapping introduction, the claw catches her by surprise, shoving her bodily into a concrete support pillar then retracting as the silent girl slumps to the ground, taser flying off twenty feet away. Not that she's really trying to find it. The pain from the impact tells her things, like the limited time before she loses consciousness. It's a particular kind of pain, ebbing and subsiding all at once. It is cold, new pain. She's never been thrust with that much force against something before. She arrives at an undisturbed table, and begins the knife flinging dance again, one final time. The previous salvo was concentrated on the weakest spot she could find on short notice.
This salvo is going after visible interesting spots like visor. It's not meant to do any damage at all, but the consistent clanking of hard silverware against plates and sensors is enough to distract anyone and make them fail to notice Colin's plan in action.
The dance of flying table knives draws to a close as Cassandra succumbs to the shock, now occuping a space on the floor adjacent to the newly knifeless table.

* * *

The shoddy armor struggles to try and stand again, but getting knives to the visor is REALLY distracting. Enough so that the thing is pretty much a stationary target for Colin's final barrage of attacks. And it's down for the count, shuddering and going still and trapping its pilot inside.

The sirens are getting louder and closer, and all other combat-like loud noises have stopped. Pepper peeks out from her hiding place, then hurries across the trashed room to where Cassandra has collapsed. "Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay…. don't die, kid, or Barbara will kill me."

* * *

Colin took a moment to flip the pilot the double bird while still hovering there. Sure, with the smashed visor he might not have even been able to see that, but what the heck right? It wasn't like he could have done much more in that situation anyway, and he hadn't yet noticed the state Cass was in.

He finally cut power to the thrusters, losing his balance slightly on landing and ending up touching down half kneeling and keeping himself from tipping over forwards with one hand. He had hoped to walk on in there all suave and cool, perhaps snag a bottle of champagne from what was left of the restaurant and continue the business talks like nothing had happened save for perhaps a little snippet about the quality of the materials his company had to offer on clear display yet instead he was running back in and skidding to a halt besides the two of them.

"Hokay not good." He said, quickly trying to scan the girl's vitals before flipping up the visor. "Damn it. Uuuh, okay. Right. You see any blood? One of those uh, whoever the hell they are, might have caught her in that god damn mess."

* * *

Naturally, there is blood! Most of it is inside Cassandra, with aome small scrapes on her back providing some nice samples. She is breathing, all of her bones appear to still be more or less in position where she last left them. She seems to have simply misplaced her consciousness, which will hinder her ability to assure anyone of her okayedness.
Of course, checking for evidence of injury, Pepper is witness to something Colin had himself been witness to not that long ago: The scars. Massive, numerous, everywhere. Pull back a sleeve? Massive, numerous. Lift back of shirt? Massive, numerous. They are hideous and malformed. Nothing could have possibly made those scars. At least nothing that hadn't healed over as she grew up.

* * *

Pepper frowns when she sees all of the scarring, but she remembers how Tony handled having extensive scarring, so has no intention of making any sort of fuss about it unless it's to save the kid's life. She glances up from Cassandra to Master Chief when the armor's visor opens, then does a double take. Her eyes quickly take in the now-damaged paint job revealing the carbon nanofiber material underneath.

Well, then. That explains a lot. "Mr. Knight, I think you've earned SI's supply contract. Now, unless you want to explain to the Gotham police department about your armor, maybe you should return it to wherever you had it hidden?"

Those sirens really starting to sound rather close.

* * *

Colin breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the girl didn't have any new holes punched through her. "Vitals seem steady. Can't imagine running around like that though-" He gestured to the older gunshot wound that was still patched and holding firm with his handiwork at the bank. "-no wonder she's not feeling too good right about now."

He straightened up after that, looking around the room at just the sheer amount of carnage the lot of them had caused. "Unconventional pitch right there, but, I'm glad the demonstration worked." His attention then turned to the sirens, Colin turning to glance in the direction the sound was coming from for a moment. "Takes a while to suit down or suit up completely in this. You're right though, they'll ask way too many questions." His visor slowly started to hiss down and finally clicked into place. He back turned to look at Pepper again, her face now reflected against its dark surface. "Good doing business with you."

VRRRR… SCHWOOM! Colin was out of there, blasting vertically upwards through a convenient hole in the ceiling!

* FIN *

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