4058/Hey you, is this your junk!

Hey you, is this your junk!
Date of Scene:	13 March 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Iron Man, Batman

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Iron Man has posed:
The mall isn't in good shape. There is so much police tape up in the mall, it is a cat's cradle of areas that are out of bounds. The north end is covered in translucent tarps, due to there being a yellow, acidic 'bio contaminant' all over the floor and walls that is slowly being cleaned up. Biohazard signs dot the big sheets of plastic, though they are somewhat loose in arrangement. The south end of the mall is open, but due to strange damage all over the place (the department store had a table flung through a wall, for example, in housewares), it has dots of areas that aren't accessible. The food court and a handful of businesses throughout the mall are the same: blocked off.

Tony was out and about again, on this particular odd case. Detective stuff, BLAH. He was working his way slowly through the department store side. And got really bored and frustrated with the whole thing. So now? Now he is the ONLY person in the food court, except for one of the food fronts that opened up eagerly to serve him a sandwich. Tony Stark gets all kinds of things offered to him just for being himself. He's seated with his high tech tablet, poking through the displays at the new footage he was able to obtain, chewing, while the single worker cleans up and shuts down the sandwich station.

Batman has posed:
    It's an open environment, that's what's important at the moment. It's a place that has taken damage, been a scene of a tragedy, and in part it is under lock down with the police tape proclaiming various areas off limits. But with the damage, done to it, the new possible entry points, it provides potential for a silent ingress and approach. And that suits the Batman for now.
    The engines of the Batwing are mostly silent, a faint whine barely heard and only at the right angle from the ship. But its optic camouflage flickers as it loses altitude and the lower hatch opens. Against the night sky for a moment there's a slight electronic glow, then nothing as a dark silhouette falls, blotting out distant stars and the odd cloud. He lands in a crouch near one of the biohazard signs, his expression sharpening to a glowering frown.
    From within the heads up display a steady readout of the environmental datafeed speaks to what has passed, to the atmospheric integrity. The Dark Knight checks the small LED upon his inner wrist and then steps forth and into the mall proper.
    Tony Stark had last been seen here, investigating, working. He was a lightning rod for press coverage wherever and whatever he was doing. For a small moment the Batman smiles. Slight, then shakes his head as he moves. It doesn't take too long to find the food court, and to see the billionaire playboy philanthropist settled at the table, poking at his tablet. For a moment the Bat is silent, just a dark silhouette behind him. Then he lifts his voice.
    "Tony Stark." It's a rumble of words, and then there's a faint clatter as a small data drive is tossed onto the table beside him. "I think you might want to look at this."

Iron Man has posed:
You know that annoying sound that comes when someone slurps through a straw but doesn't have enough liquid? Tony makes it with his drink, eyes sliding to the little object tossed onto the table next to him, but not pausing in what he is already doing. With his SO EXTREMELY interesting floor footage of the department store. He was getting to a part where people were starting to react or run about, though, so the timing of the intrusive Bat wasn't really the best.

"Uh huh," Tony answers with half, or less, of his attention. At the very least, he wasn't handed something, so there's that. But having things flung near him with the /expectation/ is a really close second to the root of his pet peeve. "If it's a demo of your new band, I'm really picky about my music," Tony says, still tapping away on his own thing, but the question hangs between the lines, the 'what is this about' unsaid question.

Batman has posed:
    There's no nonsense in the man that stands behind him, in the periodic table and chart of personalities assigned to humanity, the Batman is the anti-Tony. The glib response was most likely expected, and for the man who uttered it rather tame. But that first hurdle is past. The voice goes on to elaborate. "The compressed hadron collider that Stockton Technologies in Gotham was working on. It's using a version of your ARC reactor to short cut the power acceleration."
    There's a faint rustle of fabric as the tall man folds his arms over his broad chest, irisless white eyelets resting on Tony Stark's back as he then adds, "I've disabled it. But they might have further equipment hidden." And then the silence returns between them, but his unvoiced question is something else entirely.
    'What are you going to do about it?'

Iron Man has posed:
"Cute. Mimicry is highest form of flattery and all that. Somehow I'm less than flattered," Tony sips his drink again, les noisy this time. "Since it usually explodes and we're back around to it somehow being my responsibility for being inspiring," Tony sighs, in an all-suffering way. He's such an inspiring muse, what a hardship to be Tony Stark. But it's just his usual chatter. He lifts one hand to give a thumbs-up, though he still hasn't turned.

"Thanks for the cliff's notes. I'll check their work, grade it, and let you know if they failed the course," Tony says, flippant. "Which /probably/ will include taking away their toys and some really boring legal issues over copyright, but we'll see. As magical as I am, I'm in the middle of something else." Some more stuff with the videos, and then, he finally turns around.

Batman has posed:
    Turning around he'll see the tall figure, grim and little more than a black silhouette with the long cape hiding his form save for the insignia and the cowl. Those white eyelets meet his own as a nod is given. "I need to get back." He says matter of factly, even as he lifts his gaze to their surroundings, the damage around them, the police demarcation tape.
    Batman's eyes narrow marginally. "If you need help with this, you know how to contact me." And with that said he turns with a step, the cape flaring for a moment like the curve of a wing then settling around him as he begins to walk away.

Iron Man has posed:
"I don't own a bat signal," Tony jokes. "But--Yeah, if you're able to turn up an illusionist ghost-invoker out of thin air, we could really use that magic trick. We've got the other one to interview, and I'm drowning in disgusting vomit samples, yaaaaaay for me, but this..." Tony gestures at all the videos, "looks like absolutely nothing, on camera. And witnesses all saw really different things." He sighs, tapping the stick Batman left behind, and working on the last of his sandwich. "But, sure. I'll pull this apart. Find me while I'm eating again soon -- my treat, I'm sure." He flips the stick once.