13908/Faster Than The Speed Of -

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Faster Than The Speed Of -
Date of Scene: 20 January 2023
Location: Starrware lobby, New York City
Synopsis: Karen gets take-out, but Terry is left holding the bag. This is after Luke throws people into the wall and Silk totally kills someone. Confused? You won't be after this episode of...
Cast of Characters: Terry O'Neil, Karen Starr, Luke Cage, Cindy Moon




Terry O'Neil has posed:
~You shout out, but
I can't hear a word you say
I'm talking loud, not saying much
I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet
Shoot me down, but I get up
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away~

It's Thursday evening and Terry has put in a full day at the office. He does have the ability to set his own schedule and do his time, as well as work remotely, as long as the product is finished by the deadline. He's pretty good at that, with the only noticeable lapse in productivity being those two rather awkward weeks when he had to take a leave of absence in order to keep an entire reality from collapsing by dreaming about it. But he has been coming to the physical office more frequently as of late, after being fired from the Planet. It's one of the thigs that helps him from feeling aimless in his civilian life.

The elevator opens with a ding and Terry steps in, not really looking at who all is in there, busy as he is typing a message on his phone to Harley. The Sia version of the song blasts from one of his earbuds, but only one- he leaves one ear free in case anyone wants to hail him.

~Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away~

Damn it, the song was catchy. He might be resisting the urge to sway just a bit.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen employs many people doing many things. Rarely, does she employ someone who can work remotely- and even rarer still, does she employ someone who can work at both the Starrware headquarters in Metropolis, and the satellite office in New York.

    The latter is mostly R&D, and free space for laboratory work for any that want to use it as such. Karen, for her part, can often be found at either. Enigmatically, Terry can often be found at either.

    When Terry steps in, the zaftig form of the Starrware namesake, owner, and CEO, is standing in the elevator. Hard to miss in a salmon pink, unflatteringly tailored pantsuit, and holding a bundle of takeout that seems to smell divine. The box is devoid of markings.

    She's sort of smiling vacantly- after all, she'd just flown to Italy and back to acquire an extraordinarily genuine Carbonara, and she's anticipating making this small appearance at the satellite to end the day before she devours what will be quite an incredible meal.

Luke Cage has posed:
    Thursday evenings are generally busy nights at the bar, which means enough staff working there that Luke can be freed up to do what he wants. Or what he needs to do. This particular evening, it is playing courier. Sure, it is a special kind of courier - the sort that Heroes for Hire would conduct, papers of great security to an office building that anticipates any sort of disruption. He does not ask, he just accepts the check and the warning of what type of foe might try to intervene.

    And it is successful enough. As near as Luke can tell, no one saw fit to bother him. There did seem to be a somewhat unsavory crew about halfway through, but they got one look at him and bugged out, so perhaps he was money well spent. In either case, the package had been delivered, leaving Luke with the rest of the evening free and in a part of town that he did not often find himself in. And so he walks slowly along the sidewalk, glancing over storefronts and restaurant windows for something that might catch his attention.

Cindy Moon has posed:
Thursday nights aren't really Cindy's favorite. It's close enough to the weekend that people start getting funny ideas about how they intend to spend it, but still have to get up in the morning. So it's a really busy first half of the night, muggings and car thefts, but the latter half is kind of boring. Not necessarily because burglars have to plan for their day job, though. No, it's just really damn hard to rob 'nobody'.

City that never sleeps.

Hah.

"More like the city with C-Pap, snoring it's ass off annoying the person laying next to them." The grumpy spider is sitting on the awning over a chinese restaurant, bathed in shadowy darkness to keep her face mostly obscure while eating noodles from a carton container. She doesn't have a fancy pull over her face mask, oh no, she's gotta be unique. With her stupid little bandana. "I need to get a mask, this is bullshit."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The first thing that catches the redhead's attention is the smell.

It is delicious.

His stomach growls as he looks up. He's in his human form, as is customary for work days- one does /not/ want to shed in a tech company, especially the R&D branch. "Miss Starr!" he exclaims, plucking the earbud from his ear and giving his boss a genuine grin. He wonders how he could have possibly not noticed her, with her outfit. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I'm picking up takeout for movie night! That smells amazing!" he nods towards her own take-out.

As the elevator *dings* at the ground floor, the redhead steps out, expecting his boss to follow. He rather likes coming to this branch, the 'vibe' is different, and being in New York gives him an excuse to stop by April and Harley's. As they step out into the lobby, everything seems peaceful enough.

Out on the street, three quite large vehicles roll up to the front of the building. They are too large for civilian issue, but still too sleek for military issue. Black SUV-like vehicles with tinted windows. Not suspicious at all. Two of them roll up to the sidewalk, but the third one? The third one doesn't slow down. The third one barrels up to the entrance and shatters the plate glass doors and a good chunk of the glass wall of the lobby.

Terry gasps as the car comes to a stop in the middle of the lobby. Luckily, no-one is run over. The staff behind the reception desk scream. "Miss Starr, go-" Terry looks.

The elevator doors have closed behind them, and the screen shows that it's already on its way up. "-crap! Take cover behind me!" he shouts, as he drops his phone (anther crack on the screen) and fumbles for something.

The car doors begin to open.

Outside, the two cars that had parked on the street show no activity for a few seconds, and then the doors start opening. About a dozen men in body armor and assault rifles start pouring out.

Karen Starr has posed:
    For those who are unaware, it is difficult to get good Carbonara in the United States. Depressingly difficult, in fact. Guanciale is hard to procure and not a popular cut of meat; Most people use bacon or another substitute. It's good, of course- but it's not the /same/ as guanciale.

    That would be some signifer that what Karen has in her hands is some stupidly expensive takeout, yet it's actually quite inexpensive. It is all she is thinking about as Terry finally regards her presence. "Oh no worries! You can freely disregard me when I'm around, no need to make anything out of it!"

    It is at that moment that Karen realizes that she needs to recommend where she got her food from, because that's what you'd do in this section of the conversation, but she can't tell Terry to go to Italy. That'd blow her cover.

    "There's this small italian place a few blocks away. Great pizza. To /die/ for." Effectively, that's the same as saying 'there is a restaurant near this building,' but it will work. It must work.

    Then, she looks up. Outside of the door, there are a number of things happening. Men getting out of cars. A car barreling through the front door.

    Time slows down. Karen drops the food and it hangs in midair, and she employs a rarely seen Kryptonian superpower: Math.

    Nobody is in the path of the vehicle, but its momentum in combination with the plate glass creates shards, flying violently. If anyone here had super-speed, they'd see the pink blur moving around the lobby, tapping a few pieces of glass in midair, before returning to where she was standing- exactly- and placing her hands under the bundle of Italian. It had not moved.

    "Shit." Karen states, and begins the long deliberation between seconds whether she needs to be the brave sort of indignant, or whether she should panic and hide behind Terry, who isn't bulletproof.

    With a roll of her eyes, that will never be seen, she allows time to move to her as it does for other people.

    The shrill scream she lets out is utterly ear-piercing, the kind of horrid, high-pitched thing that definitely could not have come from someone stoic and heroic, you know, like Power Girl. Immediately she cringes in Terry's direction, even as nobody is harmed by the vehicle charging into the lobby.

Luke Cage has posed:
    The screech of tires is not a sound unknown to Luke Cage. Nor are the large vehicles. He can see what is happening almost before the third one turns towards the building itself. "Shit," he says, knowing that his free evening is about to be decidedly unfree.

    While he cannot move in a blur, Luke does have a certain advantage in this situation. While Karen may need to hide behind the decidedly not bulletproof Terry to protect her identity, Luke is decidedly bulletproof and has no such needs to protect himself. Yes, he knows there are cars outside that are about to open up, but the target is clearly inside, and so runs into the building, arcing to put himself as much as possible between the attackers and their apparent victim.
    "Down, everyone get down!" He may be bulletproof, but he is still not more than a large man. There are only so many he can protect if the others don't go to cover.
    And he did really like this particular shirt, too.

Cindy Moon has posed:
With her cellphone sitting on the awning beside her while she eats, Cindy is listening to police bands through the cord running up to her left ear. Chopsticking noodles into her mouth with a practice, neigh lazy, ease. This is the relaxing part of the night when most crimes are those of passion and rarely require much intervention by a spider-themed vigilante. Her black clad ankles are cross and swinging slowly.

<<Silent alarms at Starrware building. Police in route.>>

"Oh, nice." She twirls her chopsticks and shoves the large mouthful of noodles into her mouth before pulling her bandana into place across the lower portion of her face. "Mr Kim, I'll be back, can you keep these heated for me?" One hand grips the side of the awning and she swings down to dangle from her fingertips with the take-away held out to the elderly Asian man working the front door. He smiles, accepts it and then Silk is off!

One webline after another quickly bringing her to the building only a few blocks away.

Landing against one of the concrete pillars outside, above one of the pair of SUV outside spilling out armored and armed assailants. "You realize black SUVs are very cliche and played out as an 'armed robbery' delivery method, right? I'm serious, you look like soccer moms who are really pissed off their kid is getting benched at half-time."

Part of the Spider forumla is to draw attention upwards. "Hey guys." She waves one black/red fingered glove down at them from up above. She's putting a lot of faith into her Silk Senses, but they haven't failed her yet this week, so...

"Seriously, I'd listen to him..." She points down at Luke standing betwixt the outside attackers and the inside civilians. "He doesn't look like the joking around type." But guys like these never listen, it's not in their nature. They probably start pointing guns at them, which won't do them a whole smack of good unless they get pretty dang'on lucky. "My therapist said I should use my words more. Don't make me hit you, that's seventy five dollars an hour I can't get back."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Armed assailants pour out of the car in the lobby just as the one and only Luke Cage makes his way inside. Terry's identity as one of the Titans is no secret- but unlike Luke, his own human form is pretty unremarkable, looking like your standard boy-next-door in contrast with his feline form, which gets all of the public scrutiny (cats and the internet, man).

He has, actually, been mistaken for Jimmy Olsen more than a few times in his human guise. Kid you not.

But there's no mistaking Luke Cage. "It's ok Miss Starr, we've got this!" the redhead says, trying to soothe his boss as she lets out that impressive scream. His hand has already started to move by reflex, the shining mirror bracelet on its way to eye level, in order to trigger his transformation. "We're All Mad H-AAAH!"

The lobby goons did, indeed, open fire. Their bullets bounce off Luke without any issue, sparing Terry from becoming swiss cheese in his attempt to protect Karen.

However, one of the ricochets pings off one of the light fixtures near the elevator, causing debris to fly. One such piece happens to strike Terry's wrist mid-incantation and elicits a 'crack' as the mirror embedded on it cracks, sending pieces everywhere. Some of them cause scratches along Terry's cheeks, but spare his eyes. It does leave him, however, without the ability to transform immediately except for-

The elevator. The elevator has a mirror inside. If only it were down here, goddamnit! "Change of plans!" he shouts, "I can't transform- quick, behind the desk!" he reaches for his boss' pink sleeve and tugs, guiding her to duck and run in order to seek cover. The Lobby goons, seeing how Luke is an obstacle, try to divide their efforts by fanning out- three to Luke's left and three to the right, in order to try to cover a wider area and attempt to get their target, which is obviously Karen Starr.

Outside, the group that Cindy engages is completely silent as she speaks. There is something eerie about how all of them interact, not moving as she speaks, their faces hidden behind pale masks. Then, as she finishes her banter, the assault rifles are aimed at her with eerie synchronization, and they fire as one. Nothing a Spider can't handle, of course, but it's decidedly /annoying/ of them.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Oh good, there happened to be others nearby. She was genuinely worried this was going to get very strange, very quickly. The math of remaining visible in place while not actually being there varies depending on the visual acuity of the person- but suffice to say she'd be making a lot of return visits if she wanted to handle this alone with her identity intact.

    Karen does, however, know quite a bit about those present. Luke is bulletproof. Strong enough to handle these men on his own, and if they weren't so numerous, without casualties. Cindy is a new face- but she's like Spider-Man. That's more than welcome, and definitely, more than overwhelming.

    Yet still, despite that the assaulting men should surrender, they open fire. Bullets fly at speeds faster than the speed of sound, and yet, while their aim is not the best, one of them happens to have enough marksmanship to put Terry at risk.

    Awkwardly, Karen reaches over him in the space between moments, taking one finger and just -sliiiightly- edging the bullet down towards where she knows he is armored. Like a certain amazon, as it were, that armor. She knows what it can do, so she feels he'll be safe.

    What she /doesn't/ know, because she's not a Titan, is that he needs a mirror to transform. So, that's bad.

    Pulling her along is difficult for half a moment, easily attributed to the weight that Karen Starr clearly has, and not because Terry is attempting to move a person that can move the /planet/, no siree. Either way, she moves along with him, pushing behind the desk and never for a moment forgetting her food.

    "What do you /mean/ you can't /transform?/"

    The voice is this whine of someone who has been both threatened, and grievously inconvenienced.

Luke Cage has posed:
    There is clearly a LOT going on here right now, and Luke Cage has pretty much just strode right into the middle of it without any sense of it all. But that is what the Hero of Harlem has to do sometimes, and so that is what he does.
    Watching as some of the folks get down and some do not, Luke sighs, his attention remaining on the ones firing at him. He feels the bullets, and can tell that this shirt is DEFINITELY done for. Their aim is not bad, and he does represent a fairly large target. If he thought that would work, he would stand there all day, but as he sees them continue to train on their clear target, he moves over to continue to try to put himself between Karen and the attackers. And Terry, too, by virtue of association.
    "You sure pissed someone off, miss," he says over his shoulder towards Karen. For the moment, he stays on defense, as he watches Silk contend with the folks outside. For the moment, that seems the best approach. There are too many for him to take out inside without risking one of them getting around him. And somehow he doubts that Ms. Starr would handle bullets very well!

Cindy Moon has posed:
So damn annoying.

"Zero of ten, guys, seriously." Cindy chides them as the guns all snap up to point at her, but she was already moving before their fingers even touch the trigger. Such is the potency of her very potent Silk Sense! So much better than her male counter-parts in every way, it is. Ask anyone. The bullets absolutely destroy the column where she was perched, but now Silk is down in the middle of all them synchronized pale-masked men. "Sal'right, you're all the strong silent type, with weird 'panel van' white masks."

A web splats one in the eyes, rendering him, at least temporarily, blind. Then another two webs, one from each wrist which she's crossed over her chest, hit a armored goon in the chest to either side of her. When she straightens her arms, it is such that she hopes it'll pull them off balance. "Seriously, you guys look like extra in Vanilla Sky. Was it weird working that closely in a big budget BDSM flick with Tom Cruise or...?"

She's not as strong as Spider-Man, but she's so much faster.

Quip from one side and then she slides between someones legs and kicks the open door of an SUV closed against the barrel of an assault rifle to pin it against the back seat. Quip from another side with a cresant kick aimmed at another goons wrist.

But there's a lot of them and only the one of her.

Fast is great, quips are fun, but this is quickly getting out of hand!

"Alright, whoa, hold on!" She says from up high again, zipping along a webline to an elevated corner near where column becomes ceiling outside the lobby. A few of them may be webbed up, nursing wounds on the ground, or pulling at webbing covering their faces, but there's just so many of them! "I have to know: Who does your choreography? You're all Beyonce's backup dancers aren't you... I'm calling it now, this is Queen Bee -ish."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
It's a standoff, alright. As Terry ducks behind the desk he gets a good eyeful of the situation. Not good. Shots ping over the desk, but give the interior decorator a gold star for going with the black marble and chrome look for the reception desk- it at least manages to stop the bullets going through and hitting the people taking cover. The receptionist, a redhead with a short bob, scoots over to Karen and Terry, looking like a nervous wreck.

Luke's remark doesn't go unnoticed, and Terry has to really wonder /who/ would want to hurt Karen Starr? She could be quirky, and she was a shrewd businesswoman, but she wasn't an asshole. Someone out to get her didn't quite gel for him. Tony Stark, on the other hand? Yeah, he could see that. Aside from the fact that he was an Avenger and pissed off a lot of criminals in the first place, he was kind of... y'know. /Spiky/.

Bullets fly, and the men are trying to get past Luke to get to the desk- but they are aware of the man's reputation and powers, and they only try so much before backing away again, knowing that Cage would grab the nearest one and- well, it wouldn't be pretty. So they go on wasting bullets. And god, how much ammo do those things /have/?

"I need a mirror to transform!" Terry explains as Karen shouts, "And mine just got destroyed!" he shows the decimated bracelet.

And then, a compact is shoved almost into his face by the receptionist after a furious rummaging of her purse. Terry pauses for a second and grins. "Jeanine, you are beautiful!" He takes the compact and opens it.

Outside, Cindy has managed to do quite a number on the men. Her speed and agility, and her webs, are clearly an advantage. There is also the fact that the men may move in almost perfect synchronization, but the quality of their movements is stiff and awkward. And, interestingly enough, the more Cindy puts out of commission, the more their synchronization seems to suffer. At this point she will notice that the remaining men seem to be sluggish in being able to follow her with their guns, so much so that her spider sense might not even register some of their attempts as imminent danger, since they go quite wild and often miss the mark.

Inside, there is a momentary burst of blinding, colorful light that erupts from behind the desk. A second later, the Cheshire Cat jumps out and onto the desk itself, hands on his hips and a grin on his face.

"What are you waiting for!" he taunts the men. Suddenly, fire is concentrated on him- and plinks off the glowing construct bubble that suddenly encases the desk.

"Luke!" Vorpal shouts, "Pummel away!" letting the strong man know that he no longer needs to be a shield, and is free to go into bulldozer mode.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Every now and then, Karen looks around, as if panicked. She is tall enough that by arching her body, she can look above the desk, her eyes flitting around the room as the gunfire goes off.

    There's a twist, then, as she looks at Terry. One, long moment, as Jeanine takes the initiative, all Karen can respond with is, "Don't look at me! I have a /stylist!/" Ah, the pleasures of being fabulously, disgustingly wealthy. All that said however, Karen really doesn't even know who these people are.

    They could be League assassins, they could be some rival business- but really that's only Stark, Wayne, and Luthor, none of whom do this sort of thing.

    Well. One of whom does this sort of thing but he's President now, so the /paperwork/ involved.

    "Yeah!" Karen calls, suddenly full of vitality and courage, now that Terry has transformed, and the barrier is up. "Get 'em Lukie! Smash 'em to bits! I can rebuild a lobby!"

Luke Cage has posed:
There is a brief moment where Luke releases another sigh of resignation. "I don't just..." Then he hangs his head, right as another bullet goes off his temple. "Fine. Luke SMASH." His heart is not exactly in the borrowed catch phrase, but the vigor with which he unleashes an assault on the attackers reflects a very different attitude.

Taking the attack to them, he starts to plow through them, using one against the other as he starts hurling bodies.

A brief pause to call outside. "Yo, Spider-girl, you ok out there?" And perhaps one of the bodies is hurled out the door to try to help her with her group of assailants, even though she seems to be doing just ine on her own.

Cindy Moon has posed:
That's certainly an interesting observation... Silk tracks the newly sluggish goons as they attempt to track her constant, erratic, and very quick movements. Often shooting at places she was seconds before and not hitting the mark even if she'd still been there. "Was the jokes that bad?" She knows that isn't it, but you can't stop a spider from quipping. Especially not one dosing themself up on courage when they dive into the close-quarters fray again.

Pushing weapons aside with a slap of her wrist, firing a web-ball at that same weapon to pin it against the side of the SUV. She's using it like a gymnast uses a light bar. "... Spider-Girl? Really?" She twists her body into the open window and spring out the passanger side, then manipulate her back at a weird angle to fire webbing that catches her momentum and swings her up on the roof on a sweeping leg pirouette that smacks a pair or three armored do-badders across the temple.

Follwing this is a cartwheel into a hand-spring double kick that sends one flying towards a pillar where he finds himself sumarily captured under a quick burst of silk thread from her wrist. "We're a little deep into twenty twenty three to just put a gender at the end of a theme and call it a hero name, aren't we?" Even with their slow motions barely registering her Silk Senses, her spider senses keep her from getting pummeled too brutally. "I'm totally okay, Punch-Man... Tough Man..."

Like, anyone who's ever played Insomniacs Spider-Man knows that no matter how good you are, you can't dodge everything.

"No Costume Guy.." There's a couple hits that knock her back, but rather than get rocked, she holds onto the offending punch or kick. Wrapping her arm around an elbow or knee and pivoting her body into a taekwondo takedown with her foot ax-handling into some jibblets. That's the PG-13 version. She totally kicked that dude in his nuts.

Silly robot man with his silly not appreciating her very witty remarks. "Yeah, No Costume Guy. That'll do." It's 3 in the morning, they can't all be sharp witted.

She's cutting through them steadily. Wittling the numbers to something a little more managable, which makes wittling it further all the more easy by comparison. Less things to keep track of, less coordination... this feels too easy. It almost feels wrong. "Something very strange is afoot here."

"And we're not even at the Circle K."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
As Luke tears through the marksmen, he will also see that the ones remaining are decidedly less sharp in their movements as the numbers dwindle. One unfortunate body ends up slamming against a wall and-

Crack.

The mask comes off, and what falls to the ground isn't human. It isn't even organic. A synthetic creation- now, a broken machine. There's a moment where both heroes seem to reach a certain critical mass point, and the remaining attackers simply /drop/ to the ground, deactivated. In the sudden silence that follows, Vorpal says "Well... that was eerily anti-climactic..."

Outside, though? Both cars suddenly come alive and, without anyone to pilot them, take off in opposite directions down the street, at full speed.

"Is... everyone okay?" Vorpal calls out as the bubble disappears. He gingerly steps off the desk and onto the floor, and immediately yelps, stepping on broken glass. He hops back up to the desk for the moment and glances over the edge of the desk. "Miss Starr? Jeanine?"

And over at the Lobby. "Mister Cage? Uh... Spider-Person?"

Wait. What was he thinking? In this form, he is still wearing the contact Spider-man gave him. He quickly brings up the interface and sends a general message, in the hopes that maybe this Spider is in the system:

<<Thanks for the assist!>>

It has been a /while/ since he's connected to the system, because of all the Wonderland nonsense. And, he hasn't been in New York since October due to that, so...

Sirens. The police was, indeed, on the way, and now they are almost here.

Karen Starr has posed:
    There is a moment for Karen as well. Two, in fact. Seeing the mechanical underlying of the men that attachked the lobby, Karen starts formulating ideas on who is responsible. Of course, the blonde herself is utterly clueless in appearance- but behind those eyes, thoughts have begun brewing.

    "I'm fine!" she declares, finally standing proudly. She sets her food down on the desk and moves around the side of it, one arm looking to usher Vorpal out the front of the building, towards the oncoming police. Jeanine, too. The others in the lobby seem to get the message, the violence is over and now it's time to take statements and whatnot.

    Eventually, once all the pageantry is over, and the heroes are dealing with the police, and Karen is the only one that remains in the lobby, she pauses, and intakes a breath. "Ugh," she states to herself. "Why on a /Thursday?/"

    Idly, her hands pull out of each of her pockets, first those on her suit's jacket, then the pair on her pants. Each time they do, she drops a smattering of crushed rifle rounds.

    Picking up her food, she prepares to rush out of the front of the building, as if half-panicked still. "Oh it was DREADFUL!"

    Woe be unto the first officer she sees. Their night /will/ be ruined.

Luke Cage has posed:
    Luke briefly considers pointing out to Silk that yes, he was known as Power Man at some time, but decides that that is likely to not help his point. Instead, he braces himself to try to cast some more aid her way when he sees that resistance is suddenly futile. "Huh."

He watches as they all drop, and then back tracks a bit towards Karen, making a quick look around to ensure that she, and everyone else, are fine.

"That's my cue to get outta here," a finger to the air and spinning in time to the WHUP WHUP of the on-coming police cars. He tosses a finger in salute to Silk. "If you tell me what you want me to call you, you got it," he calls over to her. And then he does his best to see how he can melt into the crowd before the police come.

If his size made it a challenge, the holes in his shirt mayde it seem downright impossible.

Cindy Moon has posed:
Silk was about to lay one last big ol clobbering fist down upon one of the remaining goons when he just... stops. Fidgets a few times like someone with end stage Parkinsons... then goes to the ground. She stumble skids to keep from punching someone to, at least visual observation, is better suited for a handicap parking spot than a knuckle sandwich. She turns a small circle where she's standing in a half crouch, peering at all the armored thugs laying around her, then over at Luke.. "Silk. My name is Silk." During the fighting, her bandana has come off her face, so her whole 'mask theory' really is true. Wearing a scarf to disguise your identity is dumb. Want proof?

Here's your proof. She pulls it back up, of course, but the damage is done! SILK IS A GIRL! Everyone knows. The cat can't be put back in the bag.

She has a few cuts on her face where this punch or that kick landed, maybe there's some blood, but generally she looks more winded than injured.

That was a lot of fighting.

There is also sweating.

Hair matted to the sides of her face, which shows a clear confusion for what happened until the message comes across the Spider-Web.

<<No problem.. these guys look dead are they dead, I don't do well with dead.>>

The message sent while nudging one with her toe. "Wake up, this isn't funny... uh... Just lay there and don't move if you're still alive." She snap points down at him, "Good, you're fine. Love to see it, love to see it... oh man therapy is going to be interesting tomorrow..."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Paperwork and statements. So much of it looming over him for the next few hours. Vorpal has done this before. He gives Luke a thumbs up as the man makes a run for it- one that Vorpal would love to join, but alas, Karen is ushering him, and he wouldn't want to ditch his duty in front of his boss. Even if he hasn't eaten all day and Karen's pasta smells AMAZING and he was supposed to get take-out to have with Harl and April and-

He sighs. He has a duty.

He also will totally remember to tell Silk that these guys aren't dead, they are totally robots. So she doesn't agonize over it. Surely he will remember to mention it after spending three hours filling paperwork and getting so hungry that the /paper/ looks appetizing and he is half delirious from hunger and he'd be capable of trading his boyfriends in for just /one/ bit from a sandwich...

He will totally remember.