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₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

Stark Tower II: "The garage"
Characters: Banner/Stark


Petre swallowed a huge lump in her throat, He’s doing this to me on purpose, oh have fun with your little meeting with Banner’s kid, hope she doesn’t go Hulk on your a**, try not to… bah, Papa!

She had decided to have her first one-on-one meeting with Celaeno, Pete had spent five minutes in front of the mirror saying the other girls name to make sure she got the pronunciation of it down. Nothing irks someone like saying their damn first name wrong… “the garage” of Stark Tower II was not actually a garage but, like her father, Pete had taken up calling any area that they worked “the garage” despite what it actually was. This garage was a state of the art lab, one that Pete used more than her father did. A robot that was nothing but four arms on a pole rolled around in the back, it appeared, trying to organize random parts left laying around by the disorganized young inventor. Pete rolled back across the floor until the chair bumped into one of the desks, she had her main work area shaped as a circle with computer screens and projectors lining the entire circle as well as a large main projector in the center. HUD screens were left open, which she walked through as if they were nothing, reaching through them to get to something else. About… three days until the mainframe finishes my calculations, tells me if I’m right, I know I’m right but this will help to gain the publics trust, Pete noticed a huge pile of peanut butter power bar wrappers left at the area she preferred to work at the most. “Dammit…” She muttered and grabbed a handful of them, tossing them towards the small waste basket off to the side, that had a huge dent in it from when she’d kicked it after tripping over it for several months. The wrappers scattered around the can and the girl frowned more. “Dammit, hey one of you,” Pete called, snapping her fingers. “HWT, you, over here, clean this up!” The many handed robot began to wheel over. “There, right there, see?” She kept pointing. “I don’t wanna see all these wrappers, okay? Clean ‘em up.”

Petre waited for the other girl to show, already having informed various A.I. around the house to direct her from the entrance of Stark Tower II to the garage.

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

Petre had learned one thing about hired help, it was always incompetent. The same thing seemed to apply to the robots that she (and her father) had created over the years. As if transcending the space between the mechanical and the biological on their own, their “help” proved to be incompetent.

The robot that had been ordered to stay vigilant but discreet, clearly had missed the discreet part.

God. Damn. It. Pete thought slowly. When Celaeno rushed up to her, she jerked back, tripping over the waste basket (god dammit) and falling into her chair, which rolled about two feet and then stopped. Pete looked like her father only missing most of his height, muscle mass, and thickness but was in a loose gray wife-beater tucked into a pair of jeans that were held on her hips by a belt pulled to the very last loop. It had a thick belt buckle on the front in the shape of Iron Man’s mask and it seemed worn, as if she had it since she was a child. The red and gold paint had begun to chip away in places. The amusing thing about Pete looking like Tony was that even the odd half-pouting, half-anxious look was his and the Starks normally didn’t show emotion that they were not in control of. Being startled brought out a frown but Pete looked blank, as if she just couldn’t believe one bit of what had just happened. Blue eyes stared at Celaeno and her slumped shoulders didn’t move, nothing moved, she just let out a huge exhale. “Would you believe me if I said I don’t know how that robot got that syringe?” She asked dully. Her stark humor never went far and she could hear her father chastising her in the back of her mind for even trying, you trying to be funny smartass?

The robot wheeled closer to Pete and she reached up slowly with her cybernetic arm and plucked the syringe out, “It wouldn’t work anyway…” Pete knew. “It’s an old serum, it took your father 4.678 seconds to adapt to it and make it obsolete, it took my father about three days to invent it with yours offering his cooperation…” Pete drifted back into fact and science, a realm she was perfectly comfortable with. Before Celaeno had come here, she had received a call from her father on a pay phone from somewhere in New Mexcio where he was wandering. He had been wandering for almost 14 months now after a Hulk episode in Chicago that had killed three hundred people and cost a lot more in damage. Papa said Bruce Banner was nothing but a bag of neurosis and intestinal gasses, not a flattering picture, I think I’ll keep that to myself, she thought.

((I’d play Bruce for ya if he comes up in the rp, if that’s ok?))

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

Petre didn’t get up, “Hnn, noted for… further attempts at sedating you,” The girl said emotionlessly though with the slightest of smirks that hinted she wasn’t serious and, if she was, she knew it wouldn’t work and furthermore… doing Hulk research was the last thing on her list.

“I prize myself as someone who does very little without good reason and when it comes to social interactions, I always have good reasons, because I’d quite frankly rather be left alone,” Really need to redesign the rockets on Mark4... She stood up and slapped the table, which brought up another screen and the outline of a custom keyboard appeared on the surface of the desk where, before, it had been a hard surface of no specialty. Reaction speed seems down, need to run system overhaul… don’t wanna but gotta, She paused. Next July, rockets. “I am aware, on some level, of your fathers hardships and while what I am about to say is going to sound like I am blackmailing you, I am not, here it is:” c0, “We can pull some strings in Washington and get them to back off your father, bring him here, and try to help him again… this time… without causing him to go Hulk so we can contain the situation. Or he can just be here, a roof over his head, and food instead of being a vagabond… unless he actually likes doing that,” dB SPL, “If you agree to joining the Avengers team for a trial period,” 0 -140 dB SPL. Convenient. “If you choose to go or stay, we’ll still honor our arrangement and help your father though it is a possibility that he is beyond help. I don’t actually have a degree in biology or genetics…” Reference pressure 2x10-5Pa, this is easy, she was typing at the computer the entire time she spoke, never looking at the other person but instead her eyes stayed up at the screen following a huge non-stop stream of what looked like Physics and mathematics and a twist of computer programming. 48 hours left… calculations will be out, then I’m going bye-bye for awhile. Just awhile. Pete turned her chair around, she looked razzed by something, her blue eyes a bit glazed as if trapped somewhere else, though she was thinking about her calculations for her dimensional theory.

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

Pete blinked, “Oh sorry…” The eccentric genius. “I was thinking.” Her awkward and obvious statement almost sounded funny. “Okay. Okay? Oh, you said yes didn’t you? Right-” She turned back around in her chair but her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. 10-6 m2s-1. “And as for you wanting to be part of the Avengers, I would expect nothing less of Banner.” Pete cast a smirk over her thin shoulder at the other woman. “I’m going to have to drop off the face of the earth for a little while to finish up something I was hoping that other people might trickle in and have a chance to,” 1 in2s-1 fine. “Get acquainted with the mansion and the city, I mean, this is the big apple for gods sake…”

Pete pulled up two HUD screens and flicked one towards Celaeno, “I think your father is somewhere around that area of New Mexico,” A map pinpointed three different stars, but in the same general space. “I actually think, through… satellite,” She typed and it began to zoom-in, and in, and in, and in until it was locked down on a space that had a tattered tan tarp with a hole flapping in the wind on one side. A metal can out front and a ragged looking man, appearing completely homeless, fiddling with a label-less can under the shade of the little makeshift tent. “Uh,” Pete narrowed her eyes. “That’s gotta be him.”

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

Petre paused and looked at the other woman, raising a black eyebrow. “I know I’m smart and everything but…” Q(z)=P(z)-z. “how the hell should I know?” Her fingers pattered on the glass. She rotated and zoomed in on the woman’s face, taking a snapshot. Julia set. “I’ll run it through the system and see if it finds any possible matches,” an = 0 a. Pete left it to do that on another display. “Hasn’t your father always been a vagabond, though? This isn’t the first time he’s gone into exile, hiding, whatever you want to call it…” She trailed, fearing she might offend Lane and get her face smashed against the table. “Do you really have control over your, uh,” d w1 z1 + c w1 + b z1 + a . “problem? Is it a problem… I mean, is that what I’m suppose to call it? Pretty sure, when your father enters the equation it’s a problem but if you have it under control it’s a…” zero maps into z1/z3, and infinity to unity. She trailed and her tiny shoulders dropped. “I’m retarded. Sorry.” …resolve the ambiguity, its 1.

Pete held up her hands slowly, “I probably should tell you something that’s going to happen but I’m not sure if I’ll get in trouble or not,” The adult couldn’t have sounded more like a little kid. Her phone started to ring. “Uh, I gotta take th-that its Papa…” Pete fumbled a few yards away and answered the phone.

Pete. It’s go time, darlin’.
“No. We still need a good seven hours…” She tried to keep her voice down.
I’m wrapping my business up with Hill right now, forty five minutes. Be on the roof of Tower I. Everything is fine. Why are you talking all clench jawed at me?
“Banner.”
Bruce?
“No… the other one.”
Oh. Right. Is there, right now?
“Affirmative.”
Don’t say affirmative, you’re already socially awkward.
Pete exhaled against the phone, something she knew bothered him.
Knock it off.
“I need an hour, please?”
45. It’s already in motion, sorry darlin’. Seeya soon.
“Seeya…” Pete slide the phone back in her pocket and turned slowly back towards Lane. “Hey, uh, Banner…” …quadratic? Oh shut up, brain. “I uh, gotta go… in like, fifteen minutes…” It was painfully obvious to someone watching this on the outside to see Pete was dominated by her father, maybe that worked, maybe that was the way it had to be but for most twenty year olds it would be infuriating though Pete seemed to submit to it without much resistance.

₪ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘 𝖔 𝖗 𝖗 ¥ 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 ₮0 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉•.•• ••.••.•• ••.•╭♥

“What?” Pete asked dully. At first she didn’t even seem to process what Lane was saying and then, after a slow glance at the screen her words seemed to link. “Oh, oh,” (ac-bd,ad+bc). She pushed her index finger up the center of her forehead trying to rub away the tension settled there. “That’s… uh, bad or good…?” (z-1)/(z6-1)…

Pete didn’t know Lane personally, at least nothing that went as far as knowing how she felt about her parents or her general life. The Stark child fumbled over these emotional things, trying to inquire how she felt or if she was alright but without having the social grace to know how to ask so it bumbled out as a lot of quick, but meaningless, attempts to inquire. “You can forcibly call their cell phones by marking that area and doing general cell connect, if either of them have a cell phone, it will start to ring and you’ll be able to see it…” She motioned to the satellite picture. “There, uh,” That was her attempt to help. “I gotta go.”