|Tony Stark (in_extremis) wrote in oh_marvelous,|
@ 2012-07-12 18:38:00
|Entry tags:||z: om1: !complete, z: om1: affiliation: avengers, z: om1: character: janet van dyne, z: om1: character: jessica drew, z: om1: character: pietro lehnsherr, z: om1: character: steve rogers, z: om1: character: tony stark, z: om1: character: wanda maximoff, z: om1: location: new york, z: om1: location: shield headquarters, z: om1: past character: clint barton, z: om1: past character: peter parker|
Characters: Avengers! S.H.I.E.L.D. dudes if you knock, idk. Open.
Setting: S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, midday
Summary: The Avengers have to regroup and sort some stuff out if they're going to work together.
The last time the Avengers had gathered in this room, it was for Nick Fury to give them an order to kill the Hulk. That had gone well. After that day, Tony had intended never to come back here in his capacity as an Avenger, manipulated his exit and kept his distance, but with the Tower at their feet there were few options available this central and and this well equipped; there was a lot of work to do, and Tony wanted this to go as efficiently as possible to get back to it. Together, and better and more prepared, was the idea. In the morning, he asked Cap (if not more sympathetic, more likely to instill respect; as a caution) to put out the call to give the rest of the team some time to think it over and manage their time before they took a break during the hottest part of the day to enjoy the chilled halls of S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ and gathered in this unremarkable conference room. Long white table, row of six chairs on either side and flatscreen at the head of the room where Iron Man stood in a rare display of punctuality. He hadn't seen most of this team for days and was glad to nod a welcome as each filed in, but kept to himself on his feet, rigid and anxious and occupied with reams of plans, tactics, drafts and schedules all running at once. All of that still easier to navigate than his own and any other lingering tensions yet resolved since their time in the prison.
Only when the were seated and settled did he approach, placing his helmet on the table in humbled recognition of its unwelcome detachment but remained standing with his hand anchored on it's cool dome. "If you'll bear with me for a sec, I'll keep this short," he promised before anyone could form their protestations, other hand up then on his heart in sincerity. Whatever he had to say, though, he struggled to formulate, caught in his throat and making him grimace in frustration. Maybe it wouldn't be so short. "I, um-- was there on day one," he eventually got out, opening his hand and a brief smile to Janet then dropping his gaze to his glove again, "to see this team come together and since then I have been part of something that has achieved the most incredible triumphs of man- (--and mutant--)kind and the most desperate losses of spirit, and hope, and friends and-- light that no one else could ever understand-- only you, here, and the powerful family of extraordinary people I have had the honour of fighting alongside. I have never been-- and never will be more proud of anything else in my life, I know that in my heart. And I know-- I want you to know only those high points, and I know, (sometimes) that that takes--" Sacrifice, he could have said, if it didn't sound so self-important and pitiful; likewise selflessness, like he was doing anyone a favour that deserved their recognition. Trust, too, if it didn't already sound accusatory and the opposite of its intent. Tony swallowed to wet his throat and push the failed statement away, choosing instead, "Good luck," just as true to finish his last sentence and to stand on its own. He pulled his helmet from the table, dropping his identicard in its place, still not making eye contact as he smiled again, just for a second, long enough for a breath and the slightest shift of his weight toward Cap in apology, then left them for the busy halls and the heat outside. Maybe, for once, he had kind of kept a promise.