[The bow, quiver, the arrows— this combination along with the outfit absolutely remind Tony of a certain archer from his hometown. Skintight pants and long-range murder apparently go together. It's an aesthetic and a way of life.
The sass— that's the clincher, really.]
All right, kiddo.
[Her vision's probably getting splotchy and dark when he steps up to her, having stuck his landing. His armored hands go out, one hooking solidly around her waist, the other steering her arm over his neck. In his HUD, Fridayd notes her vitals are fluctuating, her body badly injured.] I got you, [he says.] Try to stay awake. What's your name? C'mon. [This latter invitation is to the feline on the ground. He nods at her.] Jump up. Keep you on my shoulder. Or meet you at the hospital. Up to you, Whiskers.
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The sass— that's the clincher, really.]
All right, kiddo.
[Her vision's probably getting splotchy and dark when he steps up to her, having stuck his landing. His armored hands go out, one hooking solidly around her waist, the other steering her arm over his neck. In his HUD, Fridayd notes her vitals are fluctuating, her body badly injured.] I got you, [he says.] Try to stay awake. What's your name? C'mon. [This latter invitation is to the feline on the ground. He nods at her.] Jump up. Keep you on my shoulder. Or meet you at the hospital. Up to you, Whiskers.