3805/What's up with your face

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What's up with your face
Date of Scene: 05 February 2018
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Iron Man, Batman, Beast




Iron Man has posed:
It's afternoon. Most of Tony's odd behavior lately has been contained to the Avenger's Mansion (or the yard...).

But not all of it. Today, outside of the mansion, Iron Man is relaxing -- sort of. He is almost fully suited up in armor, but is actually seated well off the ground, on part of a second floor landing of the Avenger's mansion near the front gate, overlooking it. It isn't, say, a landing to just chill on, though: he clearly flew up there and sat down, legs dangling. He lacks the helmet (well, it's beside him, sunglasses are on), and has a deli-wrapped sandwich in hand (and mouth).

Tony kicks his legs a little bit, eating his sandwich. He isn't exactly subtle: passerby are looking at it, and occasionally Tony will wave back at them. Besides, it isn't like this is wildly out of character anyway.

Batman has posed:
    The sunglasses are important, part of the ubiquitous eye wear that is needed for the celebrity look when they're out and about, even when they're not trying to be incognito. So while Tony isn't exactly trying to be secretive about his presence and his activity, the other man who wanders onto the scene might well trying to be so. Not that he's in disguise, more that he's just not entirely keen on drawing the eyes of the occasional passerby.
    At first, Tony might well take him as just another tourist. But when the hand lifts along with the voice he'll hear, "Hey Tony." In that easy-going mild voice of the man below.
    The blue yankees baseball cap might be a betrayal of a sort, not being the Gotham Giants after all. He's wearing just jeans and a t-shirt with a brown leather jacket over top of it. Is that? Yes, especially when he removes the shades, Bruce Wayne of all people paying a courtesy call apparently.

Iron Man has posed:
"No autographs today," Tony loudly singsongs back down automatically, but then, once the shades are moved from Bruce's face, suspicions get more confirmed.

"But for you I'll make an exception!" Tony calls grandly, surprised, and pleased to see his friend. Tony needs a minute: he shoves the sandwich back into the long airsickness-style bag it came in (well, after first getting a big bite for the 'road'), scoops up the helmet with his other hand, and hops off the roof, with only a brief little flare of thrusters to land nicely. He partially clips a bush on the way down, landing with a 'I meant to do that' look that doesn't quite sell fully, he's not operating on full cylinders.

Even so, Tony strides over. And holds up a finger in a 'one second' gesture. Swallows. "I hope you're not here for a tour, though; I give terrible tours."

Iron Man has posed:
A lot of Tony's body is covered by the Iron Man armor, including a chunk of neck, but not all of it. He's a lot worse than he was at the party: he's really pretty pale, but has a splotchy redness around jaw and left ear, and a sort of strained quality of someone that should be laying down but is functioning on perhaps willpower alone to stay standing. Even with the sunglasses still on, the tells of some illness are there, big time.

Batman has posed:
    A small smile, a brief laugh slips from him as he shakes his head. "That's amazing," The armor of course, and the creation of it assuredly. But he shakes his head as he holds up a hand, "Afraid I didn't bring a pen, but I was thinking we could sit somewhere and shoot the breeze." He uncurls a hand towards the gate, asking silent permission to enter the grounds and waits for the all clear from the other man.
    If it's given he'll step on in and move up close enough to shake the other man's armored gauntlet in greeting. "What kind of sandwich was that?" He asks, important things first. "Looked good." But once that's out of the way he'll start to walk with the other fellow.
    "Figured I'd just stop by, check in. Thank you for coming by the other day to the WinterFest." He stuffs his hands into his pockets and smiles easily in that casually sincere way. "See how you're doing."

Iron Man has posed:
Handshake? Assuredly. "OOps, sorry. Cheese there," Tony says. Yep, he got some melted cheese on Bruce, whoops. He absently wipes the gauntlet on a napkin stuffed near the surface of the bag.

Inside --Tony nods simply, with an immediate smile. "Shit, yeah. Come on in," Tony says, in his relaxed, offhanded way, gesturing to the mansion. It is an odd combination to some, that Tony lacks a 'superhero mode' as Iron Man.

"THAT... was an overstuffed philly cheesesteak. Not the best I've had. But I like to try new places, support the little guys. WinderFest? Sure. Glad to come; sad to not have stayed long, though. Too much to do," Tony says with a long-suffering sigh, but his smile remains.

Obviously, nobody bothers them on the way into the Mansion. Tony though, does a little bit of a 'show' -- beckons at a little flying droid inside the entryway and tosses the helmet at it. The droid moves immediately to grab it with a chirp, and glides off: no doubt to put it away.

"Everyone's asking how I'm doing lately. I must look a lot worse than I think I do," Tony comments in amusement.

Batman has posed:
    Unself-consciously wiping the cheese on his jeans, Bruce smirks a bit at the admission and waves it off, "S'alright. Had worse." He steps along with the other man, walking along the grounds and then into the foyer of the place as Tony gets his helmet tended to by the flying robot.
    Sidelong, Bruce give him a nod. "Was good to see you there, after you left we got a wave of socialites who must have heard you had made an appearance, so donations went up. Sorry Ollie was a bit of a jerk to you. He's, in a lot of ways, a man out of time. Sometimes I think he belongs in the sixties."
    That having been said he pauses at the last, turning to look at Tony as he mentions how everyone is asking how he's doing. "Oh? That so?" He gives a nod and follows along after the man. "To be fair, Tony. That was sort of what spurred me to drop in. I was just checking in on a few things and was in the area. Thought I'd stop in."
    He'll wait until they're at a decent place where they can converse, reasonably free from passing eyes, somewhere they can chat reasonably privately. It's then when he'll broach the topic fully. "If I'm over-stepping my bounds, feel free to tell me to get lost. But maybe it's just that we only see each other every few months or so."
    Bruce tilts his head to the side, brow furrowing as he focuses on Tony fully. "With that amount of time between seeing each other day to day, maybe I can get a better feel for the change of vibe or whatever it is. But are you feeling alright? You seem..." He seems to fail at finding the right word until he settles on, "So damn tired."

Iron Man has posed:
    "Was... somebody a jerk?" Tony asks, honestly surprised. He really does seem to give it a good long few moments of thought, or trying to remember, absently lifting a hand to pull the sunglasses up to rest in his hair instead. The eyes revealed doesn't help with concealing the illness. The candle has no wick anymore. He really doesn't look like he ought to be out of bed, let alone in a superhero attire that is no doubt restrictive and uncomfortable compared to jeans.

"Honestly, I really don't recall. So it must have been fine," Tony says, brightly, spreading both hands and beaming one of his charismatic smiles. Certainly no harm or foul.

It will be the kitchen that Bruce is led to for 'private chat', because Tony flips open one of the long high tech refridgerators and stows the last of his sandwich in there before turning back to the conversation. The armor means he lacks some finesse with the motions, but does fine, considering.

"I'll be fine," Tony says with his usual playful tone and a shrug. "I'm pretty sure I'm unkillable, I've yet to be proven wrong on it, at any rate. An important feature in the hero trade."

Batman has posed:
    Drawing forth one of the stools from a likely breakfast nook, Bruce will take up a seat and rest his hands on his thighs as he watches Tony go about securing the sandwich properly in the fridge before he gives a nod and replies, "I know I may come across as a bit of a goofball, Tony. And some days I'm lucky to remember which one it is." His own smile mirrors Tony's in a way, the playboy who is so comfortable behaving badly.
    "But I'm not entirely lost at all hours of the day, just most of them." He smiles and lifts a hand, fingers flaring slightly as if forestalling any objection. "I figure you likely have any number of people close to you who have already run down the list of what needs to be figured out or done. Probably have a personal doctor and all. But you know how it is..."
    He looks to the side for a moment, then back with that easy-going way of his, "You see something you think might be happening to someone, and you know chances are they have everything together and it's all going to be alright. But if you don't say something and something does happen... then wow, you're a big jerk."
    After he says that he then gives a nod, "So along line of thought, if something is messing with you, then I know we probably both cross a lot of the same territory in the circles we run in. But I may have some contacts you don't and vice versa. Maybe I can help you out."
    He grins and spreads his hands, "Or you can just tell me I'm worrying about nothing. Which, hey, probably right."

Iron Man has posed:
Tony isn't terribly comfortable, but manages to mostly just make some kind of amusing faces as he stops himself from interrupting about eight diffrent times. His attention is all over the place, and he coughs some into a gauntlet. Yep, uncomfortable. Which means he's going to divert a little and ramble.

"You know what, I feel drastically overdressed. So -- please don't take this as me stripping in front of you," Tony declares.

He disengages the armor, which causes a swarm of the little droids to come rushing in, in a panic, as if there was a mess to clean up and if they didn't get every bit of it they'd be sold off for parts. Tony is too tired, it appears, to bother with even being remotely showman about it, he kind of just does the bare minimum to get out of it, and then slides to scoot into one of the chairs at the spot Bruce chose. All of that, though, while Tony was talking, as if being partially stripped by little bots was really normal.

"Ehhhh, the issue was more about the /specialists/ and, you know, the skill-set that also isn't a supervillain that would prefer me to actually be dead -- the usual," Tony describes. His neck is a rash of horror of bright red irritated veins spidering down into his thick layered shirts. "I /am/ gonna tell you not to worry though. Worrying is like suffering an extra time," Tony says, with a shrug, seemingly relaxed. "Don't worry about being a big jerk. I've got that title on lockdown."

Batman has posed:
    Bruce's attention is steadily on Tony and he doesn't seem to find the armor process 'too' distracting, though he'll take a moment to eye one of the small drones and smiles a little for some reason. He looks back as the genius settles in on one of the other stools and gives the other man a nod. "Well, telling someone not to worry and them acting on that advice... there's some distance between those points and all."
    Bruce turns to the side, leaning forwards but looking sidelong at Tony. He tries not to look directly at the red of infection or irritation in his veins and along his neck. He shakes his head with a small frown, brow furrowed as he looks away then back. "You probably have more connections in the needed fields. But I have access to a few big brains that don't always make themselves too prominently known. Anything you can tell me about..." He gestures slightly with one hand, indicating the whole of the problem but motioning towards the rash and the like.
    "Or is it some sort of Apokolips bug or something?"

Iron Man has posed:
Tony seems to lose some of his energy out of the suit. As if that might have been connected to his more upbeat energy level. He rests both elbows on the table, then more of one arm, leaning. "Generally I've worked on this myself," Tony says, casually, coughing twice heavily. "Made my own repairs. But, as stellar as I am, working on myself while I will be unconscious is outside of my ability," Tony jokes. "The list of people who know both the engineering level and medicine that I'd even allow to get near me is ... perhaps two people?" Tony grins a little. "And one of them is me. Although I keep getting reminded that I'm no doctor."

One of the little drones veers up, without any armor pieces, pesky, flashing a red bar on the top of the screen. It is a somewhat bulky drone, with touch-screen panels. Tony tiredly scowls at it, and extends a hand to tap the screens.

"Sir, as determined in 809-A, severity of condition is such that Doctor McCoy is being contacted, emergency status. Confirm?" comes a voice from the robot.

"Well, that could be better," Tony observes to Bruce, sighing at the drone.

Batman has posed:
    Straightening up, Bruce frowns and it's clear he's suddenly on edge. He extends a hand as if to steady Tony, resting on his shoulder as he says quickly. "What's going on, Tony?" There's a subtle change to his voice, more strong or severe but still maintaining the slight lilt to it. He looks towards the drone and then back, then perhaps addresses them both.
    "Tony, I understand you most likely have protocols established, but there are people I know that I trust and I'll vouch for." He says that as if it might carry more weight than it does, but ultimately it is for Tony to say. "Dr. Richards is also an excellent person to consult if you have the chance. I can arrange an introduction. Also there are other..."
    But then he withdraws a phone from his back pocket, "Let me make a few calls."

Iron Man has posed:
"Richards is very busy with not responding to messages," Tony clarifies, shrugging. That contact evidently went nowhere, or is at least gestured aside by Tony with a flick of hand. "This probably isn't a big deal, I get warnings flashed at me all the time. It's like a regular Thursday," Tony chuckles. But has a hard time orienting on the droid, using his fingers to scroll through some of the readings. His smile doesn't fade but he does seem to grow very focused.

"Confirm?" bothers the droid. Tony seems to deteriorate, he coughs a bunch and slides down in the chair, fortunately caught by the steadying hand of Bruce.

"Time of response delay reached. Call confirmed!" Parrots the droid in a tone that's way too happy for the situation. The emergency call is placed to Dr. McCoy immediately. Patient unresponsive after Iron Man suit use. Location: Avengers Mansion.

Batman has posed:
    The drone may take a moment to have to accept the declaration. Bruce, on the other hand, does not. As soon as Tony seems to start to droop he'll try and catch and stabilize him, sliding out of his own stool to slip a shoulder under the other billionaire's arm and bracing him with a hand at the small of his back.
    "Tony, c'mon, walk with me if you can." He says as he starts to try and move him out of the kitchen and towards one of those comfortable couches in one of the other rooms even as he swipes a thumb across his phone's face and triggers his own emergency dial.
    "Gold support, an emergency event at the Avenger's Mansion. Be ready for an evac on my word." He turns away as he tries to guide Tony towards the other room, "Tony, is there anything that might stop emergency personnel from coming in?"

Beast has posed:
The Droid almost immediately PINGS as a connection is made and the melodious baritone of the (in)famous Doctor Henry 'Hank' McCoy can be heard. "Tony? Can you hear me?.. /Anthony/? Can /anyone/ hear me..?"

Iron Man has posed:
Tony seems surprised to find Bruce right there or touching him. He missed a few seconds somewhere along that line, but is now fighting to wake back up again. Enough to cause trouble, at any rate. "Hey, Hank, sorry if I caught you in the shower or something -- butt dial by a robot, just some warnings from using a suit --" Tony answers, cheerful, but probably really unconvincingly. Particularly since he had no business being in a suit in the first place.

"There are lots of things that would prevent that," Tony answers Bruce's question. He fights to sit up, and pulls what looks close to a phone -- but probably is not a phone, from his pocket, and pokes at it. Only to lose out again, and actually slump back, dropping the object loosely on his upper chest, where it makes a hollow sound against surface of the arc reactor.

Batman has posed:
    Bruce, for his part, doesn't entirely let that pass. "Dr. McCoy, Tony seems out of sorts and ill. If you're his physician I'd appreciate advice or some help." A beat, then he adds, "This is Bruce Wayne. We're both in the Avenger's Mansion."
    Then Tony partially answers him and his worried gaze is brought back towards the man. When Stark loses it again he steps in and takes up the small object as he can, "He's in and out of consciousness. I have a team ready but there might be complications and they're at least 5 minutes out."

Beast has posed:
Hank curses and the sound of high powered engines can be heard in the background. "Damnit, Tony.. You were in a suit?!? Wait.. Were you /spoofing/ the medical telemetry? I never saw /any/ of these indicators and suddenly they show up as red from /nowhere!/ You /promised/ me you would.. " There is a loud THUMP sound.. "Gah! Stupid seagulls.. Right right.. Don't read medical logs and fly an experimental jet at supersonic speeds at the same time while trying to talk sense to the worlds most retarded genius.. Focus, McCoy.."

A few deep breaths over the communication, then. "Wait, did he pass out again? Who is this? Bruce Wayne? Who are you? Wait.. /The/ Bruce Wayne?" there is silence for a moment. "Well of course you are. Why the heck not. Look, I am enroute to the mansion right now. I am about five minutes out *ACK* CRANE!" There is a WHOOSH sound.. "Who the hell thought that building needed to be TALLER?!?" he rants to no one else, "I am going to write a /stern/ letter to the city planning commission and give them a piece of my mind.. Sorry.. Five minutes out from The Mansion. You need to haul Tony's sorry medical-advice-warning-ignoring ass to the medical bay /right/ now. I had my surgical unit shipped there a few days ago and I am bringing the rest of my gear as we speak. The unit should auto stabelize him until I get there. It's the one that looks like an iron-lung, but much cooler."

Iron Man has posed:
A quick look at the object Tony was fiddling with shows he was looking at the Mansion security systems. So, despite his easygoing talking, he WAS allowing emergency personnel to have entrance. Specifically also McCoy. But some of that was already in place: he was just triggering it off as a go. Well, mostly, before he went unconscious. He's breathing (badly), but still seems alive, if not as chatty as his normal self, slumped on the couch.

No, wait. "My building is taller," Tony points out, and tries to start to roll off the couch sideways, with an intent to stand up.

Batman has posed:
    "Right, medical bay. Iron lung." A brief glance is given to the security device, but luckily Tony made what changes needed to be done. Hopefully. Bruce starts to lift Tony's prone form up with surprising ease, shouldering the man and starting to move down the hall. He tells Stark or McCoy as he speaks, "Hopefully whatever security is tuned to Tony's biometrics, I've never been here before." But then again a touch surprising that he might very well know the route he needs to take to get towards the elevator there.
    With hurried footsteps he half carries and half helps Stark in the needed direction and will try and support him as he attempts to key the elevator to life, "Hopefully nothing of yours zaps me in the face, Tony."

Iron Man has posed:
"This thing feels like a unit out of a sci-fi movie where I will emerge as a pod-person version," Tony observes in his distant way as he's brought into the medical lab, but doesn't fight getting put onto the strange apparatus that Hank had placed there. It is a curious long surgical table with high tech sections of it that arc over and analyze the patient.

The little robot that has been keeping them connected to Dr. McCoy is still along with them, maintaining all communication, and also supplying any of the readouts Hank desires to access, from Tony's recent excursion in the suit.

Tony seems at least aware enough again to sit up a little and start to pull his exterior shirt off: no sense injuring the 'Hungry like the wolf' tee he was wearing, and the long sleeve shirt under it.

All of that now makes the glowing arc reactor imbedded in his chest fully visible, as does the extreme damage all around it: red, purple angry vein structures standing out in hard relief in spidering webs around the metallic casing of the object, irritated skin inflamed and painful in appearance all over torso, down to mid abdomen, and up into neck and throat.

"I think this day might get messy and possibly pretty gross, Bruce. Sorry about the shitty tour...."

Beast has posed:
If the mansion wasn't as structurally sound as it is, one might have heard the *whumph* of a medium sized hypersonic air traffic conveyance with vertol capability landing on the roof. Not that anyone would have /seen/ it, thanks to state of the cloaking technology. Less than two minutes later the doors to the medical bay slide open and a blue furry beast-man bounds into the room. Bounds. Like a cross between an ape and a cat. Dressed in what appears to be a form-fitting black leather or rubber half-wetsuit like uniform with a large yellow X across the lower torso. He also wears small half-moon spectacles. "Three! I almost hit /three/ flying people on the way here! I swear, don't superheroes file freaking /flight-plans/. Oh sure, they think they are soooo entitled because they can defy the laws of gravity, but that doesn't mean they should get to defy F.A.A. regulations as well." he gripes.

He notes that Tony is already laying down in the unit and actually looks relieved, and then spots the other guy, whom hank recognizes from television and magazines. "You really /are/ Bruce Wayne. I admit I was sort of skeptical but.." he says as he walks over to the table and looks down at Tony. "I mean, considering some of the things people write about you, well.. I would have expected you to take Tony to a strip club /before/ getting him here." he does say this with a grin, though.

Batman has posed:
    Having withdrawn from the immediate vicinity once Tony gets settled in the medical device, Bruce folds his arms over his chest and looks on pensively even as the drone and the equipment begin their work. His brow furrows as he watches, filled with that subtle consternation that accompanies the feeling of helplessness which comes when someone is in danger and you can do very little about it.
    "It's alright Tony, I just wanted to make sure Wayne Manor's kitchen was nicer. Better counter-tops." He offers in that calm tone of his even as he worries at the corner of his mouth somewhat.
    When Hank enters, however, Bruce turns towards him and gives a nod. "That I am," He extends a hand to offer a shake even as his body language seems to guide him towards the patient. "I'm not going to say that a strip club wasn't entirely off the agenda."
    Once they're close enough he'll withdraw again and ask, "What's going on, Doctor?"

Iron Man has posed:
"....I was unconscious for a strip club?" Tony asks in disoriented horror from the bed, clearly in and out of consciousness. He was laying back, but how much he's truly directly aware of? Well. "If so, I must be truly dying after all," Tony says in fake heavy depression.

"I added a new panel over here," Tony volunteers, starting to roll over and sit up again, proving that he's going to be an active, possibly obnoxious patient. Much like he is in general. And of COURSE he messed with the tech. "...Yesterday," he continues.

"So that I can assist." Yes, really.

Beast has posed:
Hank smirks a bit more at Wayne and shrugs. "Truth be told, if the situation was less dire, then I would have probably joined you..." He says, which to Tony may seem a BIT odd since as humorous as Hank is, he was always been a bit embarrassed of topics of a more carnal nature. At least as long a Tony has known him.

Before he can answer Bruce's question, however, the doors swoosh open again and a number of metallic crates of various sizes, upto the size of a large filing cabinet, with rounded edges roll into the bay. They have small motorized ball-wheels that let them move in any direction with ease and seem self-powered.

Hank shoots Tony a look. "You are /not/ assisting in your own surgery, Tony, beyond gtelling me where your new reactor is. I /brought/ assistance." he huffs. Then he looks between the two billionaires. "How much do you want him to know, Tony?" he asks as he motions to one of the cabinets to open up, which it does.

Batman has posed:
    Another step back takes Bruce further out of the way, he shakes his head and he tells Hank sidelong in a voice that's more level and less jovial. "I was just stopping by because I was concerned about him, I had no idea that this..." He gestures slightly in the direction of the Man of Iron. But he frowns as he watches the procession of equipment and the readying for surgery.
    His expression turns more severe as he says, "I probably shouldn't distract you both as you..." He shakes his head and then looks at them both, "You don't owe me an explanation, Tony." Since, in truth, they have only spoken a few times albeit good times.

Iron Man has posed:
"I.... have a bionic super-heart," Tony describes in an arrogant, cheeky tone, clearly expecting to put this in terms for playboy Bruce Wayne that are not technically complicated. Or perhaps just to mask the real issues. Because yes, friends, but this is superhero stuff!

"Just needs a tune-up; I'm leaking oil, and my radio stations just aren't coming in like they used to," Tony describes. "Thanks for the lift down here," Tony adds. But then, what, he isn't assisting? "What, are you going to send me out of the room?" Tony teases Hank. "Pretty sure I get to be present," Tony considers. "We can just use the same reactor, since it isn't the problem. I'll swap it out after," Tony answers. "It's at the tower."

Beast has posed:
Hank rolls his eyes at Tony's response and shakes his head. "Oh my stars and garter's Tony.. Hippocratic oath or not, even I am not going to condone /that/ lie. Bionic super-heart indeed..." he murmurs as Metal cabinets roll around the operating table of their own accord and once they are positioned (by whatever paramaters were fulfilled) their paneling unfolds outwards, their interiors expanding on telescoping frames. Screens, sensors, waldos and other roboticized attachments unfurl and slither outwards as a geodesic dome framework forms over the theater, like some cybernetic origami flower.

Three larger screens hang above Hank, all facing him from the other cardinal points, and the smaller screens already showing datum from the sensors on the framework and from the advanced operating table itself. The larger screens flicker, the words 'Connecting...." scrolling across their screens and then each shows the face of a different person looking down at both doctor and patient.

"You will have to forgive me, Tony.." Hank says as he is slipping into his customized surgeons gown and gloves, both designed for his bestial frame. "But there was not enough time to fly in associates I would trust." he motions to each of the sthree screns. The first is an asian man of middle age. "Doctor Yao Wu, of the Shanghai Institute of Biotechnology." He motions to the next screen, a younger Sri lankan woman. "Doctor Amara Perera, of Cambridge. Both of them. And MIT, of course." He then motions to the third screen, which shows the nervous face of a seemingly even younger male with skin as grey as a pencil lead and eyes solid black. "My protegee, Doctor Dyson Lonsdale, Recently graduated of the University of British Columbia."

Hank then steps up to the side of the operating table, as it's clamshell like cover slide over Tony's body. "They will be assisting me in this operation, thanks to the miracle of modern (and not yet patented) technology. Doctor Wu will be moitoring and reparining cellular damage with the assistance of Decentralized Medical Nanomachines, or his little DMNs as he likes to call them. Doctor Perera will be conducting macroscopic arterial repairs. Doctor Lonsdale will be conducting the flushing and replacement of your blood.. All of it, but do not worry.."

He motions to what for all intents and purposes looks like one of those old office coffee urns.. A meta cylynder with a bunch of gizmos that might have been soldered to it. "It may not /look/ pretty but it is the worlds first fully functional Blood Synthesis reactor... Of course this the first real field test but..." he shrugs.. "Not like you haven't been a guinea pig before, right? Besides, the new sheath for the reactor he designed is much prettier.. nt that anyone will /see/ that" The young grey-skinned face looks even more nervous now.

The other two, more mature doctors smirk slightly.

Hank looks over his shoulder at Bruce. "You staying for this? I mean, I am not adverse to an audience but it is Tony's call.. and yours of course if you don't think you can stomach it.

Batman has posed:
    For a moment it seems like Bruce is going to nod, his eyes flitting to each element of technology and the people represented by their images, but then he meets Hank's gaze and shakes his head. "No, I should..." He looks back towards Tony and smiles a little sadly.
    "We'll talk again soon, Tony. I'll go see who I can get in touch with that might be able to help you." He looks back towards Hank and then says, "But I think you're in capable hands." As he says that he backs away, moving towards the door and pausing for a moment. He lifts his voice again, though perhaps quieter so Tony might not be entirely privy to the words, "Let me know if he needs anything, Doctor."
    He steps through the door and he calls, "See you soon, Stark." Though the words fade faintly as the doors close.

Iron Man has posed:
"I never could resist an audience, welcome everyone," Tony says wryly, too tired to put up any real fight about Hank's assistant group. "But I didn't have a half-time show prepared," Tony laments. He is, actually, pulling that panel up towards him some, though his use of it is labored, slow. He won't actually be doing much, it appears, despite his best efforts to help.

"Hey Bruce," Tony calls just before Bruce is gone. "See you at the next party!" He calls after him, confident. Or is it confident? The door closes, and that's that.