Okay, yeah, Misha should have honestly expected such a violent reaction. Unfortunately for her, she was still running on low and finding it hard to think when placed in the center of attention by an archnemesis who should have wanted nothing but her dead before him. One hand instinctively went to hold at Doom's wrist, while the other reached to reclaim ALFRED once again. More than anything else, ALFRED was her current lifeline to sanity in a universe where she didn't belong and she didn't dare imagine what would happen if ALFRED were corrupted or his base programming was used by Doom for some other nefarious purpose.
He was, after all, just a figment of her imagination made real to keep her company.
She kicked her legs out, glared down at Doom, then closed her eyes and concentrated. It was harder when she was in contact with other things, especially living things, because she needed to form her power around that—through it, really. Her power wasn't something she felt so much as something that she had to acknowledge despite the lack of physical stimuli to accompany it. "I think I'm getting the hell out of here," she said, pulling herself back and free from his grasp before making a dive to grab her computer's core. No way was she going to leave ALFRED in Victor von Doom's hands, fixed or unfixed.
no subject
He was, after all, just a figment of her imagination made real to keep her company.
She kicked her legs out, glared down at Doom, then closed her eyes and concentrated. It was harder when she was in contact with other things, especially living things, because she needed to form her power around that—through it, really. Her power wasn't something she felt so much as something that she had to acknowledge despite the lack of physical stimuli to accompany it. "I think I'm getting the hell out of here," she said, pulling herself back and free from his grasp before making a dive to grab her computer's core. No way was she going to leave ALFRED in Victor von Doom's hands, fixed or unfixed.