revivalproject

Entry tags:

Peel

WHO: Tony and open!
WHERE: ~~The university~~ The Brand New Avengers Mansion!
WHAT: Tony's finally putting a space together to house a team.
WHEN: Early-mid June
WARNINGS: Nothing yet, stay on your toes.

a. the foyer
Without a reliable local florist or catering company, or a very loyal butler besides, it was up to Tony to ensure the space was a welcoming one. If everyone was sufficiently distracted with a canape, then maybe they wouldn't notice the gaps in the armor, and would see this place as Tony envisioned it; a fortress, a home, and everything that Tony had to offer. For now, the door stood open to welcome anyone curious inside, and the bouquets of heavy summer flowers (maybe weeds) that Tony had stuffed into mugs and beakers on either side of it might have concealed the bolts and darkened panels that flanked it. The entrance to the university building, a long neglected structure mostly given to mothcat nests and spiders, had finally been properly cleaned, even the windows shining clear where the glass had survived, or sealed over to leave no more gaps to the elements. The space was sprawling, and the salvaged table dragged to the centre of it mostly served to make it look emptier still, propping up a lone carafe of coffee and a few plates of hastily assembled snacks. The cut fruit was probably more trustworthy. Whatever was on the other plate looked like it had been cooked too long. Tony stood beside it, frowning as he struggled to compose a text that was equally enticing and casual enough to not put absolutely everyone it was meant for on edge. Now that he had gotten this far, he was struggling to see why an Avenger would trust his invitation. He certainly wouldn't. Maybe a flirty 'u up?' was a disarming enough tactic, even with the sun streaming across the polished floor. It could hardly fill the space, barely creeping into the open doorways spilling off of the foyer, leaving the darkness a curious beckoning. "Hey, uh, hypothetically," he said at the first shadow that fell across the floor, "if you couldn't trust a word I said, I know, try to keep up, how could I convince you to stay the night?"

b. the gym
The tiered room must have once been an ampitheatre style lecture hall, big enough to host a full cohort, the awkwardly tall steps making each level of seating a sheer drop to the next. Now, it was a training room for all manner of superpowered muscles. There were targets to test aim, and punching bags to take a hit, braced around the carefully arranged mats at the cleared centre of the hall. The multi-armed A.G.R.I.I. robot waited at the corner of this sparring area, tucked imperfectly into a striped sweater that could have been evocative of a referee. Mostly, it appeared inert, like the dark cameras hidden in most corners, or flat, reflective screens staggered throughout the observation levels. There were no windows, the room entirely contained with only the entrance door from the hall, and a single break in the wall for another doorway that was at this point painted over with a large X and warning 'UNDER CONSTRUCTION'. The distinct drip of constant water could be heard beyond it. Tony had his priorities, and dressing the robot was well above finishing a functional locker room. This wasn't the kind of place for conventional work out amenities, anyway. It looked a lot more like it was prepared for a show. Tony draped himself on one of the steps, arms spread out behind him and legs stretched out to fold at the ankle, where he dipped his chin to peer down at the sparring arena over the frame of his dark glasses. "Floor's all yours," he invited. The wiggle of his fingers was subtle, and one of the flat panels nearby lit up on alert, awaiting instructions. He wasn't dressed for such a demonstration, after all; this suit's tailoring was too precise to start risking the seams, and he wasn't the one who had to earn a room in the new mansion.

c. the bedrooms
None of the demolition, wiring, or security systems were as challenging as developing the bedrooms. They were obviously the last spaces to be finished, and only a pair of them even had any furniture in them, waiting to be customized. Light fixtures still hung exposed, and if there were any soft comforts prepared they must have been protected under that lumpy tarp against the wall. The rooms were spacious, though; what must have been classrooms, flanking a bathroom that had been repurposed and divided into more private en suite spaces with the raw edges of unfinished doorways opening into the echoing tiles. These new bathrooms had to have been where all of Tony's plumbing energy had been spent. They were even fitted with massive tubs, thanks to a month spent underwater that provided a convenient collection of Hulk-sized clam shells, for the luxurious decompression that a long day of Avenging deserved. At least, Tony hoped that was a convincing selling point, because he didn't otherwise have the confidence to personalize any of the rooms, or finish anything too securely, abandoning each project before completion with the hollow awareness that it wasn't going to be good enough to work. It was all too little, too late.

Tony had to push the windows open to carry out the smell of paint and sawdust, and ease in the summer breeze from the richly green garden. At this vantage point, a floor above the ground, the imprint of what had been the hedge maze was still clear in how the grass grew, and there were distinct circles where the foliage had been scorched by rocks belched out by the volcano, flourishing now in the rich ash left behind. A mothcat that had been wrestling in the grass came flitting up curiously at the movement, landing gracefully on the windowsill. At least they appreciated the effort, and earned a scratch between the ears while they yawned. Maybe they had some nest-building advice to finish crafting the perfect bedroom with these tools and materials laying around.

d. housecalls [for Tommy and Jon]
[There's a knock at the door. Who could it be?]

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"Mmm, well- you never had trouble with that before," the owner of the shadow teased, and Jan moved through the place with excited eyes, trying to take it all in.

"This is amazing, Tony," she congratulated with a kiss to his cheek, "Whose gone and bruised that confidence enough to make you think anyone wouldn't trust a word you said? Who do I have to hit?" She mimed a few good hit, ready to go to bat for whoever's got Tony doubting himself.

That voice was a relief, instantly easing Tony's tension and letting him lean one hand on the table as he watched her approach through his lashes with a slow smile. He accepted the kiss gratefully with his free hand on her elbow, where it lingered to keep her from flitting away too quickly as he explained, "I've made a few mistakes," so she knew where to direct those punches. His voice was easy, though, not expecting immediate retribution, and instead he was ready to follow it with, "So, you'll stay?" She did look thrilled already and she had hardly seen anything yet, but Tony still had to quickly glance around before he looked too hopeful, flicking an illustrative finger as he said, "I thought we could do a, you know, team base kind of thing. I've run the numbers, seems to work out."

"Who hasn't?" she dismissed easily, but there was a look of understanding with those words. She smiled then and looked around, nodding her head.

"This isn't all 'cause of what I said, is it?" she asked, "About missing...this?" She'd barely gotten to see it, and it needed some more people and chaos to make it really feel like home still, but the idea that this place could be something like their collective past made her heart yearn. "Of course I'll stay. You need designer's touch. Tell me about these numbers. Who else are you counting on?"

If it was only Jan's nostalgia, there was a chance Tony wouldn't have been working as fast. He still straightened and cupped her face in both hands to declare very seriously, "Jan Van, I would move a mountain if it was blocking your view." His eyes glittered with a familiar electricity, but that might have been more true than he realized before he said it, and then it felt much too serious so Tony had to quickly drop it with a pinch to her chin and roll of his eyes up to the ceiling like he even had to think about who he'd had in mind. He'd only been thinking about it for months.

"Door's open to anyone who's had the title," he said. "Once an Avenger, always an Avenger, right? And I was thinking..." He looked less confident that she would accept this one, hand up to weight in the air like he could have possibly been open to negotiation and wouldn't be completely stubborn about it as he made his case, "When we moved into the Tower, there were a few people--it makes sense that they can bring their spouses, right? Peter had MJ and May with us, and Jessica's about eight years pregnant, we're not kicking her out when she pops, of course she'll stay there with Luke."

People made a lot of heart felt declarations to Janet Van Dyne. But she never quite believed them like she did when they were delivered by Tony. Guy would give his kidney to a stranger if he thought it would help. There were few (if any) limits he wouldn't go to for his loved ones.

"Really? 'Cause there's this one building-" she teased lightly, an attempt to distract from the painful tug at her heartstrings.

"Spouses, right- who- mm- heh, no, yeah. Of course," she agreed, stumbling a bit over the finish line, but she got there.

a. the foyer

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the gym

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c-ish

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A;

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