The armor's form became visible as its chrome plating darkened and distinguished itself from its surroundings, not unlike a chameleon. Tony emerged from the armor, dusting his matching (and rather humble) black shirt and jeans combo off.

"I'm retired, kid. Also, when I make bets, I don't make it a point to lose." The man eyed Peter as he said that, mouth drawn tightly with visible reluctance. "Speaking of. ... ...I think it's up for debate who won."