insurgents | OPEN POST.

[ The reaction makes him want to do that again, to slide his thumbs farther underneath her bra and tease her nipples until they're hard against the pads, and she's panting more than squeaking or gasping. But he doesn't, at least not just yet. It also feels like it might be too much somehow, and Bruce isn't really sure where that line lies yet, how far she wants to go with this fooling around. ]

Right. [ Precautions are thrown into the wind, along with what he considers the words that wrap up that topic. He kisses her, slow, tasting, breaking the contact when she speaks up again.

He's not really feeling very much like letting go of her, but this time they're not talking about locking doors. This time she's talking about less clothes, and Bruce is a little more driven by that thought. Dropping his hands from her is a special kind of torture, but he does so anyway, shrugging off his jacket as quickly as possible and letting it drop to the floor, hands soon returning to her sides again, sliding down the small of her back and cupping her ass with a firm squeeze. ]

[She takes advantage of the extra elbow room to drag her hands back down to his waist and then back up along his spine, groaning a little when he touches her, when his fingers dig in and she's pressed to him. She's just beginning to mouth his other ear when there's an interruption.

Muffled through the wood of the door, there's some sort of echoing bang like a nearby desk falling over, or a more distant metal structure slamming into pavement, and the suddenness of the sound makes her jump and then freeze. She can't be sure - did the ground shake? Or did she imagine it? But then there's nothing.]

Bruce? [Her voice is small, and the room is dim, nearly dark now. The quiet from earlier is deafening, and the unidentified buzzing sound from earlier - she realizes that it's stopped.

Some kind of... electrical failure, maybe? She tugs him towards her; she doesn't want him against the door anymore.]

Edited (idk how that happened) 2016-03-23 18:18 (UTC)

[ Betty's very distracting. Her hands on him, her mouth, finding just the spots most sensitive in him and exploiting them the best she can in their current situation. And Bruce is just that willing to let himself be distracted like this, if only he gets to keep her this close.

Still, it's not difficult to get him to snap out of that state. He has too many mechanisms, too many internalized defenses and reactions that he's cultivated, trained into himself until they've become second nature to him. The sound coming from the distance does just that, and one moment he's all but ready to sink into her, the next he's tense again, breath deep, hands moving up to settle on her shoulders instead as he lifts his head.

The ground shakes. It's very faint, but it does, and he feels the vibration beneath his feet. He's already on high alert even before they know that's happening, already feels like whatever this is, it's dangerous. And if it's dangerous, he definitely shouldn't be here. ]

Something's going on. [ He doesn't bother fixing up his shirt as he turns around, pulling away from her now so he can cautiously open the door and peek outside. ] We should get out of here.

[She doesn't question him, just nods, realizes he can't see it, and lets it go. The first thing she does is check her phone hoping for some sort of alert or to use it as a light if nothing else - but it's completely bricked. So... not just an electrical failure. She keeps her voice low, automatically responding to his alertness with her own.] Whatever it was, there was an EMP; my phone's out.

[It takes a second to straighten out her own clothes, and then she does his automatically when she joins him at the door. The hallway is dark. Evening is fully setting in, and every electronic thing in the area must have taken the hit. But there's still some kind of energy out there, some sort of whine at a pitch she can barely feel and it sets her teeth on edge enough that she doesn't try to push ahead of him out the door and start investigating on her own.

She trusts his instincts in these things, but... ] The assembly room. We're not that far but I don't hear anything. Anyone. [Except that whining hum, but she can't be sure she's not imagining that. She pulls off her shoes and tuck them into her bag. The not-silence is eerie enough without clicking with every step. Are we gonna be Nancy Drew now, or what?]

[ He nods, a brief glance over his shoulder, but doesn't need to check his phone. The whole building is dark now— he hadn't noticed it inside the classroom when it was already mostly dipped in darkness before, but now it's definitely more obvious. He's careful, hesitant, but once she fixes their clothes and takes off her shoes, he steps outside, a hand reaching for her arm almost on instinct, like he's both trying to keep her safe and keep himself anchored to the here and now.

She knows him, and she knows his worries are well founded; he doesn't need to tell her what he's scared of right now. ]

No, but I can hear... something. Can you hear it? [ His voice is quiet, followed again by silence as he turns his attention back to the constant hum that's drilling straight into his ears. Long enough having to hear it and it would have his head throbbing in pain. He keeps close to the wall of the hallway, one careful step after the next, eyes focused on the dark that extends ahead of them as he slowly makes his way towards the assembly room.

He's not sure what's going on, but everyone has to be there still, right? Maybe going there first will answer some of the questions, clarify what's going on here, even if he's still very much reticent to get too close to wherever this buzzing sound is coming from. ]

I... maybe? Barely, and it's really... annoying.

[Purely from a day-to-day perspective, Betty lives an ordinary life; by her book, this is all pretty freaky and having to think things through before reacting isn't helping. She's grateful to have Bruce with her, but at the same time, there's a part of her that wishes she only had herself to risk, that his presence wasn't forcing her to think this through. Having the time to grow afraid isn't really something she's interested in, when, in the end, there's no way she isn't going to snoop. It just makes her antsy. (She may be holding on to Bruce's hand a little more tightly than she'll later admit.)

They don't meet anyone along the way, but that would have been expected a few minutes ago. A few minutes ago, they had been counting on it. What if, Betty's lizard brain offers up, someone else had been counting on it too? because it's too quiet - for a given value of quiet - for a blackout when someone should be panicking, and, when they reach the double doors, there's a warm yellowish glow coming through the cracks.]

... Ominous. Ten bucks, we missed the Rapture, and twenty on alien abduction in progress.

[She somehow gets her hands on the door handle first, but she looks to him instead of cracking it open, seeking his eyes in the dark. Better stop her now if ever, Banner.]

[ Bruce nods. That's definitely how it feels like to him, and he's glad to hear a confirmation. Even if he knows how different people can pick up on different sounds, and his own tends to be a little more sensitive now, it's good that he's not just imagining it. On the other hand, it's... a problem. Potentially. He knows just how much the other guy hates certain noises, and he has a feeling this constant low thrumming will be the kind that would drill into the beast's head and anger him even more.

The quiet is almost eerie. The closer they get to the room the more concerned he gets, when he can hear no one from inside, no one trying to get out or even calling for help. His eyes spot the yellow glow, his own voice distracted as he answers her words, not tearing his gaze away from the crack near the floor. ]

Those are some rosy predictions... Wait— [ He startles and all but jumps forward, reaching for her wrist and wrapping his hand around it before she can even touch the handle. ] It's a repelling energy field. [ If it isn't, it looks eerily close to one, to the same kind he's seen Tony working on, even. He has to wonder who, if anyone, could even get their hands on that kind of technology, or if this really is just some freaky coincidence, and someone unknowingly developed some kind of project similar enough to Tony's.

Or Bruce could be overreacting and that's just a yellow light, but he doubts it. The constant buzzing sound, the blackout, the complete silence... all those are telltale signs that something's very wrong, and he'd very much rather err on the side of caution, rather than have Betty thrown across the hallway. ]

[Betty doesn't resist when his hand pulls hers away, startled but already on high-alert.] A repelling energy field. [What on earth are you doing these days, Bruce? It's still his area, or at least she knows when he knows what he's talking about, so she doesn't doubt his assessment for a minute.] Jesus. That sounds unsafe.

Do you know how to disable it? This [gestures around, maybe he can tell] clearly wasn't supposed to happen. It was probably a freak accident. There isn't anyone at this conference who-

[Another cold shock of fear, and even with both her hands in his, she's moving, unconsciously angling her body like a shield between him and the eerily-lit darkness. This suddenly got much less fun. Because of course there is someone here with a profile high enough to be a target. Someone for whom whipping up something as implausibly energy-draining and sci-fi as an offensive force field might be worth it. They'd been safe for so long, she'd stopped worrying, and it could just be a terrible hunch... And he probably already thought of it.

She quietly curses at the nearsightedness which had caused her not to jump at first out he'd offered, at her concern and curiosity that had led them closer instead. Rerouting priorities,] You were right. Let's go. Let's go get help. [Their car isn't going to work after that pulse...] We can walk back down to town. Someone there might know what to do. We can call someone who knows what's going on. Please, Bruce. [Maybe I'm wrong, but I can't risk you.]

[ Look, Tony likes to come up with weird stuff, alright? Not all of it necessarily has practical applications— in fact, a good portion of his projects never leave the paper. Kind of reminds him of Da Vinci sometimes, if not for the inventions he does see through to their end, and rather successfully he might add.

Where her mind's going, Bruce's own is already there, a knowing look as he glances from the light and to Betty, watching her reach that same conclusion. But unlike her, he's not as quick to turn and get out of here; he hesitates, turning his attention to the door again, biting his lips in thought. ]

What about everyone in there? [ They're probably all locked up, and very likely getting threatened or even hurt. This, it's the kind of thing an Avenger deals with; he can't just walk away. And how long would it take them to get downtown? Besides, they might just get there to find the whole city's down, not just this area. Even if they could find a phone, the lines would be jammed, it'd be impossible to get in touch with the others, and panic would've likely settled in by the time they get there. ]

We should do something. [ A pause, the hesitance more for her sake than his own. ] I have to do something.

[ His tone probably makes it clear what kind of 'something' he's talking about. He doesn't like turning when he's on his own, but he doesn't have much of a choice right now. He can only hope that the rest of the team got pinged about what's happening (Tony must've picked up on the energy readings too, enough to know that there's a threat here), and that they're on their way. ]

["Please don't," dies on her lips. It didn't make a difference the last time. She knows he's right and she hates it; for a flickering hot second, she hates all of them, the people who did this, people who need him, her stupid superhero boyfriend, and herself because she's just going to let him go through with this. Because he is right. She knows being an Avenger is a part of his life now, and most of the time she's only proud of him for it, but she'd hoped this weekend was going to be a lot slower than it's turning out to be.]

We don't know if- But if they're targeting you, you don't know what else might be involved. [And he knows that too. And it doesn't matter. So it has to not matter to her too. She forces herself to pull away, to stand on her own and away instead of dragging him bodily from the building.]

The generator [are there generators?! why is this your life?] I don't think they'll be inside the room if they, if they thought you would be. We should find it. Them. [A hopeless gesture in the dark.] I wish we had a flashlight. Do you think you can listen for something like that?

[ It's fine, he's going to be fine. This is hardly the first time someone tries to set up a trap for him— and for once, he's actually one step ahead, for the simple fact that he's not stuck in there, a rampaging Hulk set loose on a sea of innocent people. The mere thought has his stomach twisting; that's probably what they were aiming for too, he realizes bitterly, some attempt to shine a bad light on the Avengers. He'll have to tell the others about this later, any details he can remember, so they can figure out who's trying to get to them. (And of course they'd go after the one of the group that can most easily lose control. Of course.)

But he also knows that this weekend was supposed to be theirs, no hiccups, no unpleasant surprises. They were literally just making out like a pair of teenagers, and he was already looking forward to a brief dinner and then spending the whole night locked away in their hotel bedroom. This kind of ruins those plans a little. But it's not as if ignoring this and leaving will allow them to just go back to those plans as if nothing were happening at all.

Still, he smiles apologetically at her, stepping closer again when she moves away. ] I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. [ Some other weekend, for sure; he'll find a nice place, where people can't find them, and where they can have the peaceful break they deserve.

At the mention of generators, he straightens up again, glancing around in the dark. ] He probably could. [ The Hulk, he means— but turning now would draw too much attention to the both of them, when they're trying to keep their advantage by keeping quiet and disabling the generators before those at fault for this realize they're aware of what's happening. ] But I can try. Hold on—

[ Before anything else, he gets to his knees on the floor, then his hands, leaning forward and pressing his ear to the floor. He closes his eyes, feels a soft constant thrum beneath his palms, a buzz vibrating just barely through his ears. He gets up again, murmurs at her. ] Let's try downstairs first.

[That would not make her feel any better! He's told her often enough that he's indestructible - when she worries, when she threatens him, when it comes up organically in other conversation - but that only means he can survive his scars, that he has to. She's terrified of a future where it comes down to the latter, wouldn't risk him like this if she could think of anything else.

He's moving around in the dark. He's somewhere by the ground, and at first she thinks he's trying to look under the crack beneath the door, but then she figures out that he's listening, divining.

When he gets back up, she takes his hand again.] Emergency stairs are around the side. [He knows. He always notices these things.] If they're still down there, I'll get out of your way.

[There's enough ambient light - bless light pollution and occasional glowing exit sign whose emergency mode had initiated after the pulse - to get to said stairs and down them, but the basement should be pitch black.]

[ His fingers wrap around her hand like a lifeline, and he lets her take the lead at first, steps cautious as they walk down the hallway. The yellow light doesn't seem to expand any farther than the conference room, and he feels a little surer as they reach those stairs, even if it gets so dark that even any ability to see better in the dark wouldn't help him right now. ]

Don't. If they're still down there, stay close to me. I'll— he'll keep you safe.

[ In the dark, where he can't see her, where the Hulk wouldn't know where she is, he needs her to be as close to him as she can manage without getting hurt on accident. He's too terrified of what they could do if they managed to get to her, grab her or drag her off somewhere (whomever 'they' are). In that scenario, he trusts the Hulk far more.

Slowly, he starts down the stairs, the low buzz becoming louder as they reach the basement, loud enough that even she should be able to hear it, the darkness gradually enveloping them the farther down they step. Unconsciously, he shifts closer to her as they walk, as if the mere proximity between them offers him courage and certainty. ]

It's not me they're interested in.

[More to remind or reassure him (although it isn't really reassuring); she'll do what he wants, or at least plans to. She always plans to.

There's a fire door at the bottom of the stair well, about where you would expect it to be, and it opens out into an alcove across from the service elevator. The noise is unavoidable now but there's nothing overlaid - no voices, no rustling. There must be other people at this conference but a lot of the staff will have gone home, small mercies, or will be suffering the effects of the blackout in the attached hotel-like space.

The building is partially embedded in the schist rock of the mountain the center is built on, so that the nominal first floor is one part entrance hall and open to the air and one part underground storage space. It's this space the stairs open up to, and it's not quite as dark as it ought to be; there's a paler version of the yellow glow leaking from the open area that would correspond with the assembly hall above, emitting from hastily insulated tubes and piping that disappear around multiple corners. By its light, they should be able to make out the silhouettes of miscellaneous items stacked and on shelves, and the disorganized dimensions of the room itself, like a simple labyrinth. There won't appear to be any people.

But there also isn't anything immediately on hand that shouts Evil Generator, either. That would have been way too easy.]

[ He doesn't answer that with what he's thinking. No, she's not the one they're interested in, but they could very easily use her to get him to do whatever they wanted. And the thing is, it would work.

Bruce doesn't care what might happen to him; he cares mainly about keeping her safe right now. To him, that's a concern even more immediate than the people trapped in that room.

Bruce is quiet for a long while, almost not daring to breathe just so he can focus on listening. There's the constant buzz, the patterns in the energy pulse, start and stop and pick back up in a constant, then there's his footsteps, his breathing, his heartbeat, and there's Betty's feet too, her breaths. He subtracts each part and turns his attention to each at a time, making sure there are no other sounds in this space right now. No other sounds mean no other people, at least he hopes so.

He takes a deeper breath, daring to relax just a hint. Whoever did this clearly didn't want to be too close— now he's thinking about it, it actually makes sense that they're not even in the building to begin with. Wanting to avoid getting caught red-handed possibly, or just not wanting to be near a rampaging Hulk, in case the energy field wasn't enough to hold him. (It probably wouldn't be; he remembers talking to Tony about that possibility.)

A brief look around the room, he steps a little closer to the glow, turning slightly so he's talking to where he knows Betty is. ]

I could always turn now and kick my way through to where the generator is...

[ He's kind of throwing that idea into the air, unsure if it'd work all that well. A little too much violence and he could actually make the ceiling above them collapse, bringing down the hundreds of people in the room right upstairs. That would be just as bad as having the beast trapped in there. ]

[Then one good thing about being Betty Ross is that if they're remotely military-affiliated or sanctioned, they'll still, even now, at least try and leave her out of it. Unfortunately the signs don't look really good for that in this scenario. She doesn't speak until he does, and she'd trust him to know if they were alone. He'd always had a sixth sense for these things (...bad choice of phrasing) and as far as she could tell, it had only gotten sharper.]

You found it? Oh no, it's in one of the rooms?

[She's a little impressed he could tell, since she knows his senses are heightened but she really wasn't getting anything out of the place except 'like a setting out of a police procedural show or low budget horror movie' and 'where is it?']

We could try and find the right passage and door... [She trails off, unhopeful. The place would have been hard enough to navigate during the day and everything is likely really enforced down here. She shakes her head in the dark. So no, probably not if they want to make any kind of time. Kicking his way through didn't sound good, but it's not like there were a lot of options.]

Or no. Okay. Let's try and get closer, but I think you can do it. [She pats around until she find his shoulders in the dark and squeezes them like she can impart her confidence by touch.] It'll be faster this way. Could he- I can help point out to him which sections are load-bearing if he doesn't remember. [Based on what she remembers of upstairs, mostly. It's not perfect, but nothing else comes to mind. At least they're not likely to be directly beneath everyone.]

[ He would know if there were someone else here, he thinks. But both reason and his senses tell him that they're on their own, and if that's not true then whoever's here is already hiding somewhere, keeping purposefully quiet and fully prepared for them to show up out of nowhere. So it's not as if being silent will make much of a difference to them, and at least the silence and the buzzing of the generator aren't quite as eerie. ]

Not yet, no. But it's got to be down here somewhere, and I doubt they bothered locking it away all that well.

[ Besides, the Hulk would make quicker work of finding it, which they really need right now. Whoever did this likely has already realized that things didn't go according to their plan, and he wouldn't be surprised if they were already working on an alternative. ]

He can. He's not— he's not completely clueless. And you calm him down. You could probably guide him, besides I'll still be in control. We just need to keep him reined in enough that he won't bring the whole place down.

[ It's still a risk, but then all transformations are. He still believes it's better than doing nothing at all, or leaving for that matter. ]

Let's... try that?

Okay. [Again, a little firmer.] Okay. I'll stay close.

[Just to show she remembers. It would be a little strange to say she'll miss him, so she doesn't say it. But she will. The Hulk probably wouldn't have recognized a repelling energy field and won't be able to strategize with her if something new comes up. But Bruce will be safer as the Hulk - everyone, including her, will be safer with the Hulk and this... this is what he does now. She does think it's worth it.

More to cover her nervousness and very much to herself,] I was hoping when you got naked tonight, the lighting would be better. Less evil.

[They've been moving further into the space as they spoke, and when Bruce stops, she gives him back his hand and suddenly loses her primary reference point for him, for the room, for each heartbeat that marks time, although she can tell he's moving nearby.]

[ He knows she'll stay close, he knows that. She always has, and she's never been afraid of the monster, not like other people are. He also knows that the Hulk cares about her in some way, likely a transference of his own deep feelings for her, and while during an unwilling transformation he still wouldn't want her anywhere near him, this time he's confident that it'll be alright.

There's a soft chuckle at her last remark, quiet and lost to the dark of the basement. ]

I'm sorry. [ Genuinely so, even if it might not be his fault. Not directly, anyway. ] I'll make it up to you, I promise.

[ Even in the dark, she can likely catch a faint glimpse of what happens next. Even if not, she can definitely hear it, hear the tearing of fabric as Bruce's figure grows taller and larger, and in a matter of seconds, the breaths that come from him are deeper, heavier, a grave hum leaving the monster's mouth as he takes half a step, looks around as if he's processing the information Bruce is trying to filter through to him from the inside.

His head turns, and his eyes find Betty, trying to figure out if she can see him at all. ]

Bruce?

[There's barely enough light to tell anything so it's just unreal shapes and noises in the dark, and as unafraid as she is of the Hulk specifically, that still taps into something primal. She has to remind herself it's Bruce and not to step... closer. Or back. At least his transformations don't leave him screaming in agony anymore.

It's not really practical to hold his hand now, but she reaches out through the dark searching at least for contact, a little concerned that she'll lose him at this point, or that in spite of Bruce's assurances, he's just as lost as she is. It's a creepy place to wake up in and she wouldn't be happy about it.]

[ The Hulk grunts at the name. Even with Bruce in control, he never likes hearing people talking to the puny man through him. But then he knows, at least to a degree, that Betty's different in that aspect. That she's talking to him as much as she is the man trapped inside, and he lowers his shoulders just so, eyes fixed on her figure in the dark.

She can barely see him, but he can see her. When she reaches out, a soft touch grazing the back of a huge hand, he turns it around just so, slim fingers tracing across his palm instead.

But they're not here for sweet gestures, it's just a waste of time. Bruce allows the moment for just a few seconds, enough for Betty to feel a little surer and safer, then he sets the Hulk into action, getting him to turn around and start walking down the area, eyes and ears peeled for anything unusual, or for word from Betty telling him where to go. ]

[It's a rush, following the Hulk through the dark and trying to map their progress against an incomplete mental map. Time faces quickly and slowly. This piece of his life isn't hers except when circumstance dictates, but she doesn't feel lost or superfluous so much as... angry. Every scrap of fear is an adrenaline kick. She can't help looking left and right at the undefined shapes looming on either side, but he's moves forward with such purpose that there can't be anything there.

The open space narrows like a corridor that she can picture even less, but she has barely said anything before they reach without incident an expanse of wall that vibrates strongly enough that even she can feel-here the frequency as a grind of delicate ear bones.

By her estimation, they're barely beneath a corner of the auditorium, if they are still beneath at all. Maybe under the backwings of the stage, she reports out loud, more to interrupt the buzzing with her own voice than any other purpose. When she feels along the wall for a doorway, she finds nothing,] but there's definitely still space there.

[ For what it's worth, the Hulk is as aware of her presence as he is of the soft buzzing that seems to vibrate through the walls and floor. The thrumming of her heart is a pace for him to keep up with, a ticking clock marking the time, and more than anything else right now, he finds it soothing, calming. Which is a good thing, because a particularly angered Hulk wouldn't help with anything.

Not that it makes much of a difference when the area narrows and the vibrations increase, and he feels the persistent buzzing drilling into his head in a way that makes him want to crush things. He grits his teeth, though, and holds back; she speaks and he tries to catch what she's saying, grunting at the end just so she knows he heard her.

Doors, though, who needs those? Was she really planning on using a door? Because even if she did, the Hulk would still smash his way through the wall to see what's on the other side. Which is what he does right now, all too quickly especially when he's starting to feel encroached in the narrower corridor.

The buzzing doesn't stop, and yellow light bleeds out from the gaping hole in the wall, but at least the area's more open, and he doesn't feel so trapped anymore. He steps inside, looks around to make sure it's safe, then turns around and waits for her to follow him inside. ]

[It's not like the Hulk could have fit through a door but it would have saved... yep, okay, right, okay. That was clearly a superfluous wall anyway, no one is going to miss it. When she follows after him, she sees the generator for the first time.

Branching veins of shielded yellow, like deadly neon lights welded to the ceiling, form a complicated system moving away from the center of the room where all the electricity they haven't been getting back is being visibly fed into an incongruously basic inertial confinement fusion device, which Betty mostly recognizes from their work decades ago.

Like someone who is not very good at self-preservation, she goes around the Hulk and right up to the apparatus, trying to make sense of the design. She could really use her expert partner on this one, but he's a little busy being the reason they made it here in the first place, and also the only reason she's not flipping out.]

Hold on, don't- Don't smash it yet.

[The sound they've been hearing is very audible and probably coming from the reactor chamber as a laser ionizes the gaseous fuel. The whole thing is smaller than you'd expect for something meant to cover a space the size of the assembly room, but the twists and turns in makeshift piping leading away artificially extend the field's range by physically guiding ionized gas to multiple points along a guiding energy mesh. One story above them, the additional energy fully transitions the raw materials into the plasma state of the repelling energy field. Not that Betty can do more than guess at that part - they only have the ICF portion in the room.

The generator itself is safe enough if no one tries to taze the chamber or something, although you probably don't want to hang around it too long anyway. The thing in the room is one solid dose of energy short of a bomb, purely as a side effect of generating the energy field upstairs. Whoever set this up was a moron and a genius and probably took over a month just sneaking in tubing.]

Give me a minute, okay?

[Maybe they can just... unplug it? Turn off the gas source? It's a beautiful machine, and also there is the very small chance it could explode.]

[ It's probably a good thing that Betty speaks up, because it's an additional voice stopping the Hulk from just crushing the whole thing. Bruce's already trying to do that, reining in the urge the Hulk feels to to destroy the generator, but it's difficult to manage when the persistent sound is even louder now, and makes his head throb painfully.

Not that the Hulk often feels pain, if ever— but this comes close enough to it.

He stops, gritting his teeth as he looks at her, then grunts in a mix of frustration and resignation. His head drops in what's almost a nod, and his eyes narrow on the generator again. He might not know the first thing about how it works, but the light beams it gives off, the energy pulse emanating from it, that pretty much gives away that it's likely a dangerous thing. That, of course, means it's more dangerous for her than it is for him, so he pays special attention not to let Betty step too near it. She would, if she thought that would help turn it off, and she'd likely ignore the danger she'd be putting herself in. So he'll stop her if he must. ]

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