"Your armor responds to your will, your subconscious," she picked up a pen and stabbed at his hand, golden armor suddenly growing to shield him. "You didn't have time to react, but your senses knew. The armor responded to them. Also, you should have been able to dodge. It was a stylus, Karter."
She made a face about taking off her wings and shook her head. "No." No she couldn't take them off or no they wouldn't come off, she didn't offer. Looking very put upon, she didn't look away from his gaze and spread her wings out wide and large. Then there was funny popping noises, whispering sounds, and her wings began to collapse and fold. Feathers gathered and neatly stacked as the struts shrank. Finally her wings settled over her back, looking like a streamlined backpack against her spine. "They were made by the scientists, then grafted on. I trained to fight and fly, specialized in certain styles."