Re: [Facility: Tony Triage]
[And bringing up the rear of this train was Faol. He was silent on the car ride, and silent through the retina scan, undergoing it without question and with the ease of someone who had been through them frequently - even if that was (practically) another life.
Echoes still remained of it - not in his walk (slightly loping, comfortable) but the graphite butterfly knife tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, further hidden by the long line of his t-shirt. Not that he thought he'd need one, but he'd rather have it (or a gun, a gun would have been better) and not need it than need it and not have it. Call it Plan B. He looked even less like a doctor than Bruce did and definitely less than Penny - but he wasn't a doctor, not really, and his knowledge wasn't in diagnosis but in healing - and incidentally, killing. Hopefully more of the former than the latter today.
And where he intended to enter the room and stick to the back, out of the way, where he could be the extra set of hands if they needed them - there wasn't a way to enter surreptitiously. As for the man on the table, he knew Tony Stark by name only, and no particular emotional attachment to his life or death beyond the objective and abstract.
His gaze settled on the monitors for a moment, not that they told him anything he didn't already know, before flicking to and from each of the occupants, head bobbing and mouth crooking when his gaze settled on Selina.] Faol. Hey. [No need for extensive greetings as his gaze turned back to the man on the bed. He might have been able to pull whatever it was out of his veins with enough time and practice, but he'd be exhausted before they started reviving him and he'd be needed more then, if at all.] We ready to go or are we still waiting on people?