<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/XfHbD.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>  Name:</strong>Khutulan Karpitskaya<br/>  <strong>Title:</strong> Crimson Dynamo<br/>  <strong>Affiliation:</strong>  Resistance<br/>  <strong>Location:</strong>   Moscow<br/>  <strong>Tags:</strong>Dr. Doom, that fell Chinese Mutant, Black Widow<br/></span></span><hr/><br/>It was certainly unexpected as Khutulan suddenly found the MIRV style mines all being drawn to the armored carapace of her suit of power armor and immediately she started to swat away at the exotic explosives, as if expecting them to blast her apart. The look of the massive arms of her suit of armor swatting off a couple of mines sticking to her armor was almost comical as various alarms started to sound off in her heads up display of proximity alarms when suddenly a soundless detonation anticlimactically rippled through the room and the mines, still physically intact, simply fell off of the suddenly unmoving suit of armor.<br/><br/>An almost peculiar sense of peace and calm came over the chamber, while within the suit itself,  audible alarms and flashing warning lights started to turn into static and white noise, the warning displays becoming jumbled and flickering as a voice over it all droned how one system after another was offline. Cursing aloud to the point of screaming, Khutulans field of vision suddenly went black as it seemed even the main systems were taken offline by some sort of electrical interference let off by the lamprey mines. The red lights of the helmet even dimmed to darkness as the limbs of the once flailing suit of armor simply fell to their sides, like it had simply been switched off.<br/><br/>“No! No! No! No!” Khutulan cursed underbreath, her fingers blindly fumbling about in the complete darkness of the suits interior. Dr. Anton Vanko was a genius of electrical engineering. Surely he had some sort of countermeasure to this line of attack. It was a hope, but not a blind one. She noticed that the pulse had taken offline her more advanced and modern systems first, before shutting down the main system as well including her suits motor and ambulatory functions. The very core of the suit of armor. The part of it that was designed by Vanko himself before everything turned into electronics and exotic technology and circuitry.<br/><br/>If she could bring the powerplant back online, the mechanics of the suit itself should be in working condition, even if everything else didn’t work.<br/><br/>Her fingers probed a panel behind her, as she felt herself practically wrenching her shoulder almost out of place as she slid back a panel and restarted the suits powerplant and suddenly the upper interior of the suit was bathed in a soft, dim red light and her helmet started to glow again. With the neural link down, she’d have to manually operate the suit, like it was designed originally. Sliding her arm back into place, she slid back the panels and gripped the butterfly levers, feeling the caked dust on them as she wrapped her fingers tightly around the manual controls. Then with a simply slamming of her head against a button on the interior of the helmet, an armored panel slid back, giving her an outside view of the world through a narrow, horizontal panel in the helmet that was transparent and lightly armored, but still shaded her vision red. Not enough of a field of vision as before, but enough for her to spot Dr. Doom.<br/><br/>She tightened her grip on the hand levers, the fists of the armored suit responding immediately by clenching tightly. Then, without further ado, she broke into a literal run, and her suit responded in kind, sprinting forward at human speed. Every system it seemed was offline except the powerplant and the mechanical operations that allowed her to move about. But it’d be enough she felt. With one ton of powered armor behind her, she’d crumple Dr. Doom and his suit like a tin can.<br/><br/>Or so she willfully deluded herself into thinking.<br/><br/>The floor of the chamber itself was thudding from the pounding footfalls of the one ton plus armor stomping into a sprint towards the Latverian dictator as Khutulan suddenly felt thankful for the Russian militaries emphasis on martial arts training. Not that she was an expert by any means, but her suit still had its super strength and for one thing, Khutulan definitely knew how to throw a boxing combination.<br/><br/>Closing in on Doom in a matter of seconds, she jumped off the floor, pulling her fist back like she was imitating Superman but at the last second, lifted her leg, bending it at the knee. The punch was a feint, the armored knee joint of the power armor being the actual attack. The two armored adversaries clashed together, as Khutulan let out her own war cry, not that anyone could hear it from within her armor. She’d smash this tincan Dictator with her bare (carborundum armored) fists if she had to, clearly overlooking the fact that she wasn’t the first foe of Doom to resort to try smashing him to a pulp with superior size and strength.<br/><br/>After all, he compared her to Iron Man.<br/><br/>IRON MAN!<br/><br/>The pathetic capitalist playboy who was even more odious then the crop of Russian oligarchs that leeched off post-Soviet Russia.