14485/One for the money

One for the money
Date of Scene:	24 March 2023
Location:	Hollywood Post-Oscars party
Synopsis:	It's not a party unless bullets fly and Janet sprinkles (not by choice) some angel... er.. pixie dust in the dustup with bad guys.
Cast of Characters:	Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Janet van Dyne

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Pepper Potts has posed:
Parties are parties. Some are better than others, some worse. It takes a professional partier, however, to work out which are the best that suit ones particular needs, wants and desires. No one is more of a professional partier, at least as of a year or so ago, than the great Tony Stark.

The Oscars are a miss, however; no reason to sit and watch Second Gaff get awards. It's those after parties that are so richly coveted, and depending upon who is throwing them and who will be in attendance?

Out in California, then, the tabloid journal shows are heating up the airwaves, and all across the city-scape, the 'beautiful people' are partying it up. Music blares from one in particular, one that has an amazing collection within their swag bags, with most of the A-Listers in attendance, plus a few extras. All sorts of excesses that are never spied by those with cameras are in full view; alcohol, a few doing lines towards the back of the palatial residence, and the swimming pool beyond glass doors that have various and sundry jumping in, splashing.. and was alcohol mentioned? Again.

At this particular party, the 'dynamic duo', that is, Tony and Pepper, are in attendance, having watched most... some... just a few minutes of the Oscars from the less than palatial but still very respectable view of the house in Malibu, overlooking the ocean from cliffside. Pepper is engaged in light conversation, green eyes bright, the easy-on smile formed into a light laugh as she holds her stemware of a white wine. She's dressed in a green backless dress, a Janet VanDyne original (like 99.9% of her clothing), her hair up in a deliberately messy bun with wisps of red hanging down to frame her naturally made up face. Green stones adorn her ears in teardrops, with a matching necklace. Nothing outlandish.. not like some of the other red-carpet affairs.

This particular event? Whispered rumors have it that not all is what it appears...

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha is here on watch duty. WIth this many members of the rich and infamous around, it inevitably turns over a target. Also the eccentric fashiond oes occasinoally pull out the acts of clothes gimmick supervillains, so better to be here and on standby.

Up on the stage, the namesake of the Oscars, up and over in his garbage can, and right by him in an overlooking balcony are two veteran theatre critics that were heirs to old and storied hotel chains.

"They're here tonight to reward the best" "Of the worst!" "But everything here is the worst." "OHOHOHOH"

On the stage, the namesake of the Oscars would throw something out of his can at someone in the crowd, who would duck and wince.

"Wow, that guy is a grouch."

Tony Stark has posed:
Parties. They used to be Tony Stark's life blood. Most people go out and party and come home tired. Tony would go out tired and come back wired, in more ways than one. But as things tend to happen, time changes everything. Age. Responsibility. Love. An artificially powered generator placed over the heart. And so while Tony is certainly game to be a post-Oscar party, it no longer holds the same thrill for him.

That being said, being anywhere with Pepper Potts gives him a certain thrill. "I agree, I think the quality of the cinematography has gone down /considerably/ since the retirement of the Nordic masters," he says, inducing a nod from a gentleman of the press, who then slips away to try to catch candid shots of the latest hot young celebrity thing. Tony leans in towards Pepper and whispers to her, "Who was that guy?" A smile, as his hand briefly grazes down her back, taking full advantage of the gown. He himself is dressed in Armani. Not because he cannot afford a Janet Van Dyne original. But because he hasn't been able to get any new ones since he made the wrong crack at the wrong time about Steve Rogers. And he'll be damned if he wears a suit he /already wore/ to a party before.

Then he raises his champagne glass in salute as he catches a wave from a Hollywood A-lister from across the side of the gathering. He leans in, again to whisper to Pepper. "They keep telling me I look like that guy," he says, shaking his head. "Tell me the truth, Pep - I'm way more handsome than Robert Downey Jr, right?"

Clint Barton has posed:
Under normal circumstances this isn't the sort of thing that Clint Barton would bother with. Oh, California has it's charms. The weather is a whole lot better then back east for one. But if he was planning to attend any sort of party -- a pretty big if these days -- it definitely wouldn't be this sort. Not exactly his scene to put it mildly.

He should probably consider getting a life.

So while the others might have made their way in to mingle, or at least keep an up close view of what's going on, Hawkeye has found a perch towards the back of the property where the rising hills of Hollywood give him a better vantage point to keep an eye on things. From a distance. Just the way that he likes it.

There might not be mingling and the power bar and bottle of water he has to snack on is definitely a step down from the canapes and champagne flutes being served within, but the archer doesn't seem to be complaining.

He really should consider getting a life.

Pepper Potts has posed:
It's a fact; supervillains hate to be left out of the really good parties. They can dress up, but they usually just end up embarrassing themselves, like, drinking champagne from a snifter or somesuch. Talk about faux pas.

The fact that Tony is here even has the starlets a-flutter. As the drinks flow, the young and lovely (and oddly dressed) are coming over, trying to start conversations with the well dressed, handsome multi-billionaire who is still, as far as they're concerned, still on the market. After all, who wouldn't want a movie star on their arm?

Pepper turns her head slightly at the light touch on her back, her expression softening to one of genuine affection, and she takes a step back, just bringing her into his 'bubble' as she lifts her currently cradled drink ever so slightly. Green eyes narrow slightly as she looks over her shoulder at the departing journalist/critic and she shakes her head, "I don't know," is admitted. She //knows// them all, but that one?

Nope.

His next words bring a light laugh to her lips, and she turns her full attention to Tony, her words low, "Even more handsome than Tom Cruise."

As the journalist/film critic walks away, he almost seems to disappear into the crowd, though not quite. Taking up a spot, he's watching, taking pictures here and there, but it doesn't seem to be with an eye to sell pictures. There's something not quite right.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha goes to move about as well. Clint's position is acknowledged, even as Natasha gives a soft gesture to indicate over the photographer that seems off. She's moving on an intercept course towards him. Looping around, using the people in the crowd as cover. Fortunately, teh extravagantly dresesd types make for a lovely way to obfsucate and stay out of view.

If the man is blatant, then he'll be picked up by security. If not.. Natasha's contacts go to take a scan of the man's face and then upload it to SHIELD and Avengers' databases. <<JARVIS, request facial identification tag>> That goes through to the supercomputer as Natasha goes to see if the man is, in fact, a walking hazard that needs taken down fast.

Or just a paparazzi looking about in case that infernal Spider-Man shows up to take pictures for Jameson

Tony Stark has posed:
"I'm /way/ taller that Tom Cruise, that isn't even a question," replies Tony, as he leans in to brush a kiss against her cheek. Is he curling around a bit more with Pepper right as a gaggle of 20-something actresses bubble over towards him? Possibly. But old Tony would have disappeared into that bubble, and only emerged in the morning. Well, earlier Tony, perhaps. Younger Tony. But age has nothing to do with that piece. No, there is something else that does. Something that that has been weighing on his mind for a bit.

He deposits his champagne flute on a passing tray and then slips his free hand into his pocket. A quick check of its contents, perhaps. "And, for the record, you are by /far/ the hottest redhead here, even Nicole Kidman is no comparison." Those are, in fact, bold words. But to Tony's eyes? No one outshines Pepper.

Clint Barton has posed:
At the very least it shouldn't be hard to avoid committing any faux pas' in his perch. Squirrels don't tend to be all that judgemental about that sort of thing afterall. If he proves unwilling to drop a few crumbs of his power bar it might be a completely different story of course. While the big, brightly lit windows certainly provide him a pretty good vantage point of the party within, the archer spends more of his attention scanning the back patio and the crowds gathered there, keeping an eye out for anything unusual there.

So far, so good. While it would be almost a shame to have come all of this way for nothing, he's at least likely to get a decent meal out of it.

When the photographer is highlighted as a person of interest, he does search him out, scanning those big windows until he spots the target as well, and while he checks in on him periodically as he continues that sweep, he leaves the surveillance to Natasha for the most part, given her better vantage point.

Pepper Potts has posed:
Disappointment radiates through those bubbly starlet's eyes, even as one, two of the more bold do make the grand attempt at wrapping an arm around his, in the attempt to gain his attention, a soft cooing rises, just to be sure they're noticed. As Tony sets his glass upon a tray, another rainbow-coiffed young thing is pulling another drink from a tray and approaches from the front closely, the drink handed out for him to take. (Someone hasn't done their homework on how Tony feels about being handed things!)

Pepper has changed over the years somewhat; she used to be annoyed at this sort of attempt, moreso because Tony would disappear for hours into the middle of that bubble, yes, and sometimes not emerge until morning. Not. Anymore. "Oh?" She's ignoring the actresses making their grand attempts for the time being. The smile that she wears is in plain sight, and her head tilts slightly in the kiss. "Whatever it is you've done, I forgive you." Mind, she says 'done', not 'about to do'.. just incase.

<<Checking, Ms Romanoff,>> comes the soft, clipped English accented voice in her ear. There is a pause; not a long one but a pause all the same that gives the man the chance to pull out a pistol, and it's aimed at a target that is now across the room. Doesn't matter if it's a clear shot or not...

*BANG*

Not even silenced.

In the next second, all hell breaks loose within. One of the starlets grunts softly, and a red stain appears on that dress as she slumps to the floor.

*BANG*

And a second.

Outside, from Clint's vantage, are a couple of waiters by poolside that don't really seem to be acting like 'waiters' in this very moment. They're calm, cool, and deliberate as they begin to approach the doors that lead into the expansive living room/party area with a deliberate step.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
She hates being too slow. She hates it. She goes to charge over towards the man that was the shooter, at a full run now. She can reach a sprint over in her heels. And what she does is go to a quick handspring that would launch her through the air, even as she goes to try and snap her legs down mid-twist around the man's neck.

Presuming she could, she would twist her body over, partially rolling it with her legslockeda round the man..

And then go to flip him and slam him down hard to the ground if she could while releasing him before he impacted, hopefully sliding off of him to hit the ground cleanly.. Then drawing out two combat batons thats he clearly could -not- have had under her dress. Or anywhere on her body.

HOpefully uptting the man down on the ground with the classic Widow takedown!

Tony Stark has posed:
There is definitely something off about this evening. Even with most of those days behind him, Tony would usually at least /pay attention/ to the young strumpets vying for his affections, even if they were not going to get them. But tonight? Tony is distracted.

Which is probably why, despite the actress' attempt to hand a glass to him, Tony's hand remains in his pocket.

Probably why, despite the other actress trying to lay herself against him, he remains standing.

Probably why he does not become aware of the gunshots until the actress in front of him has already been hit.

Tony falls back, surprised as he is shaken from whatever reverie he was in, the hand that had been his pocket flying out as his other arm moves around Pepper, pulling her back as he flails a bit in shock. "Pepper, down!" he yells, pulling her back and away. And only then noticing the box he was cradling in his pocket flying off towards the bushes in his swift reaction. Time for that later, he thinks. "Friday, send it!" he says.

The Mark XVI is close, but not close enough to get to him or Pepper before any further fire comes his way. He'll have to put his faith in the Widow and the Hawk.

Which, if you have to, are two of the best to have to put your faith in.

Clint Barton has posed:
"See? This is why we can't go anywhere nice," Clint murmurs under his breath. Both that power bar and bottled water are tucked away in an instant, that customary bow appearing in his hands almost as if by magic. Looks like the squirrels aren't going to be very happy with him afterall.

While Hawkeye certainly takes note of those waiters, they do not yet appear to have pulled weapons so tempting as it might be to put a couple of arrows in them it does seem a little harsh. It's possible they could just be really calm and collected professionals right? Suuuuure. At the very least he can at least do a little to hinder them so when that first arrow is launched from his bow it soars past the suspicious men and instead buries right in the seam of the patio doors, sparks flaring brightly for a moment as the doors are welded together, sealing them. A second later a second arrow does the same to another set of nearby doors, baring the entrances.

"A few other suspicious types out here just started for the party. I've barred the doors so they're gonna have to do some smashy smashy to get in. They're dressed as wait staff so you might want to scope out any of the servers inside as well," Clint warns over the comms in clipped tones.

Leaping from his perch, the blonde archer lands in a crouch before he begins sprinting towards the patio, another arrow already drawn and nocked as he does so. "Don't worry, I'll keep them occupied."

Pepper Potts has posed:
Gunfire?

Gunfire!

Here? At this party? Perhaps that's why the 'hell' that breaks loose is more a disarray and slow-to-react sort of reactive as screams begin to rise into the air. The young actress that was hit has that stupified, disbelieving expression on her face as she looks down in that measured slowness that seems to fall upon any situation of dark violence. Only in those heartbeats does she begin to suspect that something is amiss, that there is a twinge of pain that breaks through that sudden hit of adrenaline. A hand is taken away from that spot that had instinctively and immediately gone to the wound, and there.. it's covered in red.

That second shot goes wild, hitting a bust of some nouveau artiste that has been trying to get a foot in the door to the clientele of the rich and famous for the last 20 years. It explodes into shards, sending little darts all over the room.

It's at the second *bang* that Pepper actually reacts, and before she can do or say anything, Tony's got her in his arms and setting her back and away. She instinctively ducks down, assuming of course that'll make her a smaller target, catching the flying box out of the corner of her eye, watching it land in some vegetation. The shards of that bust manage to miss her, but do hit other revelers who are no longer reveling. (Those doing their lines simply look up and stare... and go back to what they were doing.)

As for Friday? She dutifully sends the suit careening through the air. Anyone looking up might see something that looks vaguely like a comet flying through the night's sky on its path.

Natasha brings down the gunman, hitting the floor with a *whomph* as air escapes his lungs. The gun clatters from his hands, and while he may not be as good at hand to hand as Natasha is, he certainly does give it his best, possibly secure in the knowledge that his backup is coming in from outside.

They're coming, right?

As arrows fly in from who-knows-where, the silent and deadly shafts strike true (of course!) and the short circuits of the door and locks hold the barriers against the backup. Shouts of annoyance, aggrevation are called to the sky even as attempts now are being made to break the windows that lead into the party area.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
The gunman is taken down by Natasha, as she goes to engage him in hand to hand. He's disarmed of his weapon, but he'll have a backup in place. She goes for a series of rapid strikes. She doesn't have the time to play around with him. She doesn't taunt, she doesn't feint, she moves to try and not give him much of a chance.

She goes for quick strikes, attempting to just overwhelm him if possible with speed as she alternates with her batons, going to use them to enhance her range and striking power. She's going to try and break bones if she hits, if not outright cripple the man if she has to.

<<Stark, Barton, Potts, status.>> She would speak over the Avengers comms <<Can you handle the crowd before they panic?>> They didn't want the room to look like a pop art impressionist piece now, did they?

Tony Stark has posed:
There is a problem with this situation. More than one, really. People are getting shot. Tony and Pepper are exposed. Tony has things he needs to attend to. And he really, really does not want to take the time to get into the suit, leaving Pepper exposed. Without knowing how many assailants they are, how close, the few seconds he spends getting into the suit before he can whisk Pepper away could be critical seconds. So, it is time to field test a new 'innovation'.

"Salt protocol," Tony barks out quickly as the Mark XVI bears down on the party. He looks over at Pepper. "Trust me," he says, a moment before he steps back as the armor adjusts, opening up as it has done so many times before. Except this time it passes Tony by, changing size and shape slightly on the fly as it encases Pepper instead. "You got this," he says, before he turns and darts off, going low and zig zagging as bullets and arrows fly.

Into the bushes.

Clint Barton has posed:
As far as Clint is concerned, sealing up the mansion -- or at least the rear entrances -- is more than worth it. FIrst, it makes it pretty plain that those waiters are indeed up to no good. No matter how dedicated to their craft, it's hard to believe the catering staff would bust into a locked building just to try and serve panicked guests appetizers. That would be some serious committment to their minimum wage job.

More importantly however, it buys time and cuts off easy reinforcements. It also has the side benefit of potentially cutting off any potential escape route planned by the attackers as well, leaving only the front as a viable alternative. It also has the advantage of keeping them focused on busting into the building instead of worrying about who's shooting those arrows in the first place. A nice, fringe benefit. It's always nice to be able to do one's job without dodging gunfire. That's definitely a Hawkeye approved and endorsed plan.

"~Taser arrow, Taser arrow," Clint hums as he lets a flurry of arrows go even while on the move, each finding their mark -- one of the men dressed up as waiters trying to break in -- and as they strike home blue arcs of electricity race through each of the men, making them spasm, convulse and finally drop to the ground.

"You know," Clint muses thoughtfully, "As Hollywood parties go, this one isn't half bad. We should do this again next year," Clint notes on the comm, his gaze sweeping over the patio one last time before he starts to round the house, heading out front. "Back patio is clear and sealed up. You'll want to herd people out the front. Heading there now to make sure everything is clear," he reports, falling into a ground-eating stride with practiced ease.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
A gunman trying to take a longer angle on approach gets checked like he just ran headfirst into a glass wall. A moment later his head wrenches in a way that makes everyone over thirty wince, and he's violently thrown onto his side so hard that it breaks his shoulder.

Janet van Dyne appears out of nowhere and slaps the side of his head with a palmful of 110,000 volts of bio electricity. It scatters his brain so badly that the man goes into seizures.

The socialite's shredding out of her custom gown even as her sleek bodysuit expands to wrap around her body. Janet's not much of a modest person and she doesn't waste time looking for cover while her backup clothing twines into place. Instead she takes a step and *keeps* growing, and picks up a huge beer keg with one hand once she's about 15' tall. With an explosive overhead cast she hurls it at the criminals trying to break the door down, and then disappears once gunfire starts turning her way.

She appears inside the perimeter a few moments later, next to the other Avengers, and literally bouncing on her toes. "Oh my god ohmygod ohmygodthis is so fun!" she squeals, and claps her hands like a demented toy monkey. "How many of them are there? Do we know who they are? No one's hurt right? I'm gonna go see where they are," she declares, and before anyone can speak the manic pixie shrinks in size and zips up to peer through one of the upper windows to look for bad guys lurking about.

"I see them!" she shouts a microsecond later.

Pepper Potts has posed:
"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod..." is panic-whispered in rapid succession, no breath or pause taken in the middle of it all. "Whyisthishappening?" Again, Pepper's stream of consciousness in the face of gunfire is pretty much appropriate for the situation. Realizing that Tony's not //quite// by her side, she's spinning around, eyes wide as she's searching wildly for him, to make sure he's safe. Even as she stands up from her protective lean, here comes the suit. There's a hint of relief that echoes in a breathed exhale, but then.. it's headed towards her?

A yelp, the sound very, very surprised exits the redhead, and with those selfsame wide eyes, the computer array comes online, showing her a whole field of data. <<System, online. Hello, Ms Potts. I'm Friday.>> It's a good thing she's wearing it in that moment as a stray bit of flying detritus comes right at her. Instinctively raising her hand, there's a measured blast that comes from it, and again, another yelp as she realizes that //she// was the one that did it.

Next, of course?

"Tony?"

The com in her head now has her attention; Natasha. "I think I can.." is stammered out. "I don't see Tony." Though, knowing that Clint is somewhere, that does make her feel a little bit better.

And then, there's Janet.

Pepper's on the move now, turning around to get the wounded actress out of the line, and away from the potential of being trampled. "Friday?" Yes, she's been listening, even in her terror. "Call 911.."

<<9-1-1 has been accessed 26 times with the current wait time of Emergency Personnel arrival at 13.2 minutes due to traffic.>>

Ohgodohgod..

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Pepper is okay but hyperventilating. THe perimeter is being tended to by Barton and Janet. <<Stark, do you really need to run into the bushes for that? Isn't there enough content of you on the Internet already?>> She would go to sweep around as she goes to drop the attacker that fired the shot in the first place.

Then she's in hunter mode, sweeping through to look for other threats taht might come out. Likely there won't be any with their escape cut off. They've accmplished their murder attempt. No reason to put their own bodies at risk being crippled by the remainder of the team.

Tony Stark has posed:
Tony does not answer the question of why he is in the bushes. That would...well, it would just not be something he wants to go into right now.

Escaping the hail of bullets is easily done, particularly with a number of heroes appearing seemingly out of thin air or otherwise. Tony, meanwhile, is focused on his quest, and fortunately for him, he achieves his goal quickly.

Unfortunately for him, right as he finds it and turns around, preparing to make his way back to his team, he finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Apparently, he was not as subtle as he thought in diving into the bushes.

Clint Barton has posed:
Unless there is a small horde of gunmen hiding out somewhere inside still, it feels like the matter is pretty well in hand by now. With luck, the unfortunate starlet who was shot will live, so Clint's focus at the moment is that no one is acciddentally hurt in the rush to escape, to get away from the gunfire. Which admittedly does seem to have been cut off. But there usually isn't a lot of reason behind the actions of panicked people.

So Clint rounds the mansion as quickly as he can, catching a glimpse of a number of people already starting to emerge out onto the front lawn, spilling over the elaborate garden. Lots of dead flowers by the looks of things, but nothing more serious then that. And what is definitely missing is any sign of a waiting ambush out front. That's a bonus too.

"Front side looks clear. Keep them coming. The garage is open as well so we can start usher them out through there," he adds, one finger pressed to his ear to make sure he can hear any discussion over the comms as the volumn of shrill screams and panicked cries grows with each new party escapee. "Alright, alright! Everyone calm down and move away from the house in an orderly fashion," he instructs, keeping a close eye on the door to make sure no one terribly suspicious looking tries to slip out in the confusion.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet vanishes from her perch and goes buzzing through the property sounding like a particularly large and angry wasp. She's flying *fast*, so fast that she even misses a turn and banks off a wall with a squeaky, near-inaudible "Ow!".

"Ithinkwe'reclearClint!" she says over the vox communicator. "I don't see anything except some really horrendous fashion choices. No wait-! No, never mind, that's just Madigan Spawling." She swoops low and trips him with a well-timed tug on his pants cuff, sending the fellow sprawling. "He's not dangerous, he's just a jerk," she announces with a gleeful self-satisfaction. A few beats later she appears near the Garage door, fifteen feet tall and her voice booming loudly. "This way! Through here!" she tells people, and directs the fleeing celebrities towards safety.

Pepper Potts has posed:
It's true. The redhead is indeed hyperventilating, which brings that tunnel-vision where she doesn't actually //see// anything. Pepper is rapidly turning her head in search of Tony. So much so that it's not she that actually //sees// him first, but Friday. At first, there's a gentle pinging with an arrow that is meant to direct her attention in the direction indicated. When that doesn't happen immediately, the little flashing arrow turns red. And when //that// doesn't seem to work, a soft electronic *ahem* sounds in her ear. (Friday was also programmed by Tony, of course.)

"What?" Pepper almost sounds annoyed until she turns her head, and eyes widen once more. In the tumult, all falls silent around her. She's never moved in one of these 'things' before, heck.. never WORE one of these things before, but movement is worked out, her pace quick even as she raises her hand once more; it had just gone off before so why shouldn't it now? Her eyes close tightly in the action, willing it from afar, and suddenly, there goes that blast once more from her hand. Pepper's eyes open in the force of the blast, only to see the man that //had// been there is no longer, having been blown out of his shoes and away. While not //technically// lethal, EMS will be dealing with some traumatic internal injuries...

The moment its done, however, Pepper lowers her hand and simply stands there, a little stunned. "Tony?" Her voice is quiet, "Are you okay?"

With the tumult moving around them, Pepper can hear that Janet is helping those out, as well as Clint helping organize the escapes. No doubt Natasha is .. cleaning up inside.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Now that the interior is secure, Natasha Romanoff goes to say curtly over teh comms <<Status update. Interior is secured. No further hostiles present. All targets neutralized.>> The way she slips so casually into such a role and terminology is the way her life has been. Going to hunter mode has always been simplest for her whenever dealing with anything.

She doesn't bother to ask for updates on Pepper and Tony. They don't seem to be in the state where they could give any. Natasha keeps her batons out in front of her as she continues tos weep through the crowd.

She might be wrong and she's missed some hostiles inside, or there's something else stashed. So she keeps on her guard and assessing for any furhter threats.

Tony Stark has posed:
There is a moment where Tony wonders if this is how it is all going to end. Well, if that's the case, at least they'll know what his last thoughts are, as he grips the object that sent him into the bushes in the first place tightly in his left hand, narrowing his eyes. And then there is a flash of light, but instead of the muzzle of the hand gun near his face it is gone, as is his attacker.

Tony opens his eyes wider and sees Iron Man standing there, palm outstretched. "Huh. So /that's/ what that feels like."

He scrambles up and dashes over to Iron Man, now that the scene appears to be settled, and throws his arms around the metal neck. "Oh, Iron Man, you're my hero!" Leaning in to plant a kiss on Iron Man's cheek, complete with lifting up his right leg and bending it at a ninety degree angle.

Tony Stark is nothing if not a ham.

Clint Barton has posed:
Out front the chaos of the evacuation is slowly growing a little more controlled. As people stream outside, as no more gunfire cuts through the Hollywood hills, the panicked celebrities and hangers on begin to congregate in their groups, begin to chatter nervously, glancing towards the house that they so recently vacated. The fact that there are actual Avengers on site probably helps a little too and increasingly -- as the situation calms -- Clint finds himself with a strong and overpowering urge to get out of here just about as soon as possible.

Yup, he's pretty much ready to go back and hang with the squirrels again. He really needs that life thing.

"Copy that. Things are calming down out here too. No sign of any other hostiles. I think we're in the clear here," he agrees, echoing Janet's assessment from inside as he begins to melt back into the crowd.

It's always nice to visit the West Coast. Thank god the team doesn't have a permanent presence here though. Whew.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Good, I'm coming back inside," Janet announces. She shrinks and vanishes, and buzzes back into the building. Her redoubtable assistant is right where she left him, looking completely unphased and still holding her clutch.

"No injuries mum?" he inquires, and holds the clutch up and open for her to access..

"No, but I'm dangerously close to sobering up," Janet informs him. The socialite vanishes into her purse and her assistant walks back over to Clint's impromptu command center. A few seconds later Janet reappears in a completely new outfit, a sleeveless gown the color of a tequila sunrise with a bit of cowling around her neck, a plunging back and decolletage, and shoes that match precisely. Clint gets a brief hug (because no one likes being rattled by gunfire) and an appreciative squeeze of the arm. Natasha's got her War Face on so Janet forgoes the hug, but offers the same nonverbal approval to her friend.

"Good job, Clint," she says with real gratitude, and touches her ear to activate the vox transmission. "Pepper, Tony, update? If you're screwing in the hedgerows, just grunt unenthusiastically a couple times," she suggests.

Pepper Potts has posed:
Pepper just stands there, and soon enough, the helmet slides back, revealing one shell-shocked red-head. Tony's moment where he simply pauses before that realization that he, too, is still alive and breathing hangs in the air between them. And then?

Pepper starts to shake, even with Tony's clowning. She laughs, the sound more a staccato relief than humor at the antics. "Tony, it's not funny.." she manages to stammer out. "What.. what even is.. why am I wearing this thing?"

Not even funny!

Finally, the shaking stops, though she's really, really //done// with everything for the night. Totally done.

"I want to go home." It's a whole hearted request, even as she looks around now, finally, at the state everything and everyone else is in. Red and blue lights have appeared in the form of police, fire and ambulances.

"We'll have everyone over." By 'everyone, of course, she means Janet, Natasha and Clint. To the Malibu house, that is. The helicopter isn't far. "Please?" And, on top of it all, she has no idea how the hell to get this suit off?!

It's Janet's comment, however, that has Pepper actually laughing, even with all the stress. "We're okay," she's staring at Tony as she speaks, "And I think this suit ruined my gown." Of course she's wearing one of Janet's gowns to an Oscar party! "Let's go home?"