That wasn't the most polite way to make a point, but it was something Wanda and Tony seemed to have in common: she had a glowing hand thrust in her face, too, in a cool blue to combat her passionate red, all of the combined colours reflecting off of the armor that poured up Tony's arms and disappeared into his sleeves. His other arm wrapped around Raven to bar across her chest and force hers down, away from Wanda and kept from doing any further damage as Tony hauled her back with the unfinished armor pinching into his shoulder.
"Stand down, Wanda," he commanded, keeping a warning glare and repulsor trained on her until he was sure no one was going to be turned into a cat tonight. There as no need for this to be a brawl. If he could keep his hands to himself when he found out the truth, these two should have been shining beacons of understanding. Wanda wasn't the one she was supposed to kill, after all.