Tony went, "Hm," again, lips pursed against a laugh at that choice of words, because there wasn't a whole lot of 'normal' going on here. If there was, Tony was damn well going to build their way out of it--no one should have had to settle for stagnation. On that thought, he pushed the tools he had collected into his lap onto the bench to pick one of the pieces the robot had so helpfully provided them with, twisting and flexing it for Misty to get a good look before he started attaching it to her body. It was an absorbent, matte black, slightly textured and just slightly more pliable, razor thin and handled like it weighed as much as a feather. By the look of the pieces amassed on the floor, it would leave Misty with the polished gold fingers and shoulder cap that Tony had left on her, they rest she had somehow managed to damage hitting the recycling bin. "This is going to take a hit better," he reported confidently as he gestured to take her arm again and start building her into her new casing. "It's flexible, it won't dent, just bounce back, and it's going to absorb energy-- electrical, heat-- these aren't as conductive," with a tap to her gold shoulder, "up to a certain point, you can just keep taking the hit, maybe use it." He had to get up out of his seat to start carefully seaming the two parts together, four tools back in his hands and one in his teeth so that when he spoke again, he mumbled around it, "Don ha a cone askin ee or hell so uch."