<strong>Kid Arrow<br/>Veidt Industrial Complex, Tower II<br/>Afternoon</strong><br/><br/>Somewhere, Arrow's mother is saying 'I told you so.'  Sure, she didn't know where he was or that he got hurt, but if she had known, that's exactly what she'd say.  Her lack of support for his masked lifestyle often frustrated him, but he begrudgingly conceded that she might have had a point.  Cristobal was not in any way any more extraordinary than an olympic-level athlete, and in the world of the ubermensch, he posed no competition.  But that was it.  He had not been sidelined squaring off with an extranormal.  No, he had been sidelined by an accident.  An accident during an act deemed by the general populace as insane, but considered mundane in his line of work.<br/><br/>What really chapped Arrow's ass was that this could have been avoided if he hadn't been so negligent with his equipment.  The injuries, though severe, didn't bother him as much as the two blows to his ego.  The first blow was complex on a number of levels:  his mother was right, he was too weak, he couldn't hack it.  The second was equally as intolerable:  Adrian Veidt saved his life.  Now, Arrow didn't actually know what Veidt's status as an extranormal was:  all he knew was that his marketing machine depicted him as the most intelligent individual on the planet.  That was enough for Arrow to resent him.<br/><br/>But Arrow didn't hate Veidt.  No, Veidt deserved to be admired.  He had become a man of great importance, so much so that the Kid wondered what Veidt could possibly want with him.  In between his deals with the most powerful men in the country, good ole' Ozymandias was going to visit some stupid kid in a mask.  This did not compute:  Veidt was, like every other powerful man Arrow had ever encountered, self-serving and shrewd.  There was going to be a point to this meeting.<br/><br/>So Arrow waited, holding his abdomen by pressing his forearms against it.  It felt like someone was stabbing him just to make him vomit.  But he didn't move or say anything, not for want to be mysterious, but because he felt awkward being vocal with normal citizens.  It seemed that he forfeited a great deal of professionalism whenever he spoke because his allusions and "witty verbage" oft revealed his youth.  So, he folded his arms and said nothing.<br/><br/>But... admired the nurse's shapely figure from the corner of his eye, waiting for Mr. Veidt.