I am not a natural, he was a self-righting kid. He'd just bump into something, back up, and get on his merry way. Like a Roomba. [He grimaces at the kid Tony's wrangling.] They're so sticky. Why are they all so sticky? Where's it coming from?

["Ezran brought in jelly tarts," a little girl says cheerfully. A little boy with dreadlocks holds some up towards Peter and Tony in his little jammy hands, offering to share.]

Uh, thanks, kid, but pass. [The kid suddenly looks like he's going to burst into tears so Peter looks skyward, decides his enhanced immune system can take the child germs, and amends his answer.] Okay, one.

[The child walks over and hands him one. He takes it, pops it into his mouth and chews, giving a very fake smile. The kid then proceeds to notice something colorful under his sleeve and tugs at it with sticky hands. "What's that?"]

Buddy, that's not a toy.

[It's red wristband, one that might have looked like an otherwise innocuous chunky bracelet or watch if not for the metal prong extending into Peter's palm. A trigger of some kind. "Pretty!" goes a little girl.]

[Peter shakes his hand away from the boy, and speaks to Tony around a mouth full of tart as he tries to mop sticky jam off this child's hands with a tissue as well.]

I don't think I caught your name, by the way.