Owner	Pose
Bruce Banner	Somewhere in a diner outside of St. George, Utah, Bruce Banner sits at a lonely corner both in an oversized Metallica t-shirt that looks like it came out of a bin at a thrift store. He has a dirty brown ballcap with 'Women love me, fish fear me' pulled down just low enough over his eyes that it's hard to get a look at his face unless he turns his head a certain way. The waitress keeps stopping by to refill his decaf coffee, her frustration only eased by a growing stack of bills tucked under the fingerprint riddled metal of the napkin dispenser, one of side of which looks a little emaciated. "Oh, sorry. Eggs and toast. Oh, uh, scrambled, please. Thank you, ma'am." He pauses. "I'll let her order when she gets here." There's barely anyone here at this time of night. The occasional flash of headlights from an interstate trucker or a roadtripper shines against the yellowed file of the back wall and the retro aluminum of the counter/bar.
Jennifer Walters	"We need to get you to a real store." There are warnings: an increasingly elongated shadow falling across the table; soft tremors underfoot. "Find you real clothes." A booth creaking in protest. "Clothes that won't make me glad I'm meeting you in a little diner in Utah." The waitress does an immediate aboutface, because there's no way she could've missed the other half of Bruce's party arriving. "It's the ''hat'', Bruce," Jennifer stage whispers with a cupped hand and a smile before reaching across the table to take his hands into hers. "You are far too smart to be putting that hat on that brain-- hold on--" Six eggs over easy, a side of bacon, another of sausage, and toast later-- "-- what kind of trouble are you in this time?" she wonders, soft and sympathetic.
Bruce Banner	"You don't like the hat?" It's hard to tell if Bruce is being genuine or if he's being coy. It's equally hard to tell whether that ambiguity of tone is intentional or not. Either way, he reaches up, taking the bill between fingers, and taking it off. "I don't think I've got too much to worry about, now, and I'm kind of hoping I'm tipping well enough to not have them call someone I'd rather they not." Bruce runs a hand through his hair, messily. "Well, Jen, it's --" Bruce inhales, holds it, then exhales. "So after the whole ordeal with Sterns -- The Leader as he calls himself now -- I started getting concerned. You know, about him, about the gamma hounds." He pauses. "And when I get concerned, I start working on things."
Jennifer Walters	Jen slides the hat as far from the two of them as it'll go without hitting the floor as soon as it's set down. '''Much''' better. "... oh," she soon exhales, a light smile vanished in favor of a taut and knowing frown. "Bruce..." "... what did you '''build''', Bruce?" she softly, warily wonders.
Bruce Banner	"Well," Bruce says, looking out the window and into the long dark. He rubs the back of his neck, opens his mouth, and gets ready to say something. He pauses, then tries again. "I -- we need, something in place in case Sterns was successful with something like what he planned. A whole town almost got blasted with hard gamma, Jen." Bruce inhales, then rubs his face. "I needed something to treat them if something like that succeeded. If not Sterns, who next?"
Jennifer Walters	"Yeah, but Bruce..." She, too, hesitates, because she doesn't really want to say what she's going to say next. What she HAS to say next. What they both know must be coming next, surely. Her hands tighten powerfully around his while she wrestles with it, jaw grinding uncomfortably. "... ... what happens when 'something in place' becomes 'something in some asshole's back pocket'?" she finally whispers, leaning closer. "I understand-- I get that you feel obligated; '''GUILTY'''... but you know how things ARE out here, Bruce, I-- just the other day, I almost got stranded on some microscopic barbarian world because the baby AIM goon I was representing panicked and tried to use his bootleg Pym generator to get out of court. Things have a way of getting ''out'' there."
Bruce Banner	"I know, I know, Jen, that's what was bothering me. That's why I started doing this alone someplace. I guess I was trying to delay the inevitable." Bruce starts to squirm, somewhat, in Jen's grip. He takes another deep breath. "They sent the Juggernaut, Jen. I don't know how they got wind of it, but they did. I know he was there, but I'm...not sure who sent him. Someone took it, while he kept the Hulk busy, and it's all...fuzzy." "It's...strange. Like I'm kept out of knowing what happened." Bruce stares into Jen's eyes for a moment, with new resolve. "The Hulk isn't very good at keeping things from me, but ... here we are."