Rooms

[Bucky B, Steve R, Bruce B, Thor, Sharon C, Jess D]

Who's up for a spar? Right now. None of you actua


[Tony S]

Free tomorrow? At least you're honest about not trusting me

[As anon, for once. After reading a few of Marvel's comics.]

How does one avoid telepaths?

[The Roman sun is hot, beating down on tourists in an unrelenting sort of way as the afternoon carries on. Throngs of people gather around Fontana di Trevi in the Piazza di Trevi, each itching for a chance to throw some change into the water and make a wish, including a certain pair of lovebirds on their honeymoon. Stephanie has never been to Italy, or really spent extensive amounts of time outside of Gotham (yes, that includes the one in Earth-3) aside from the vacation she and Eddie had taken eons ago to Hawaii and the few weeks spent in Bludhaven. And, it shows. She has a wide-eyed sort of wonder about all of the sights, a weightless glee that has forgotten, at least momentarily, any of the sadness beyond this foreign city. Sadness about her wedding, and the lack of enthusiasm, certain absences, and anything else going on with her. She just finds it hard to focus on that when she's surrounded by so much beauty.

And that, of course, includes her new husband.

After spending a few days together sailing through the Mediterranean, they've made their way to the more sightseeing part of Italy. Roma, in particular. Getting their hands on a moped is actually fairly easy, and they take turns driving the mint green Vespa around the city. It's Stephanie's turn now as they drive through the cobbled streets and towards the piazza, and the blonde bat is only a little reckless with her driving, narrowly avoiding pedestrians with shouted apologies colored with a joyful sort of laugh.] You okay back there, babe? [She shouts it over her shoulder before turning back to find a place to park near the fountain. When she finds a spot, she pulls over, decelerating quickly with a little jerk as a prize for the both of them.] Aren't you glad you let me drive? [A bright smile. She's wearing a pretty sundress and sandals with a pair of round sunglasses and her hair pulled up into a ponytail. Her cheeks are just a little red from the heat, and she's got a splash of rouge red on her lips. So very European.]

[Delivered to wherever Mr. and Mrs. Nashton are hanging their hats upon their return]

[The box is small, and it contains two items: A note, and a question mark pendant on a platinum chain. The pendant is comprised of rare purple and green alexandrite, and it's clearly meant for a woman's neck. The note is simple:]

I'm sorry I couldn't make the reception. The service was beautiful.

All the best to you both,
Selina

[Buffeted, shoved, and otherwise jostled along, Steve had a true moment of fear on the stainless steps of Stark Tower—it was strange, but it was true. It crystallized in the tumble of his stomach and dropped away to his feet as they caught on ankles, on legs, on stands. He was overwhelmed and felt suddenly small again, awash in a sea of clicking cameras, lenses, and shouting journalists. HAVE YOU SEEN MR. STARK? IS TONY STARK DEAD, MR. ROGERS? TELL US WHO IS RUNNING STARK INDUSTRIES. DO YOU THINK STARK INDUSTRIES CAN WITHSTAND THE LOSS OF ITS PRODIGAL SON? WHAT HAPPENED TO PEPPER POTTS? WHO WAS THAT MAN, CAP? AT THE FIREWORKS? He felt like he was in an alley and he was too small to fend off the attack, but like he had to try. He didn't want to hurt anyone, however. So it was with head bent against the gales of questions and hands folded tightly into the pockets of his jogging pants that Steve Rogers moved through the landlocked crowd of the Media.

He knew they hadn't been like this—back when he was on stage, there was a perimeter. They called him Mr. Rogers or Captain. They didn't grab at him as he walked past, they didn't push up into his space so far he felt threatened, big man or not.] Excuse me—

[He said it 1,000 times as he tried to swim to the front doors of the building. He couldn't help but wonder if something had happened to make them all descend today, but then he remembered they'd been trickling around for weeks, coming in and out of the plaza that opened before Stark Tower in packs. Maybe the stocks had dropped.

He wished he hadn't gone out for a run just then, as someone ran a rag across his forehead, jarringly, wiping some of the sweat away—for some reason...]

[After the 5th July, notice is handed in at Oscorp, citing personal issues. Given the tenure of the contract and the nature of the corporation, gardening leave is automatically in place - so following the 5th, Pepper just ...isn't at Oscorp. Anyone attempting to enter the New York apartment is met with a sub-letter named Mary, who refuses entry to just about anyone without formal ID.]

[Locked to each individually.]

[There are a handful of pictures of a smiling toddler, dark hair and bright eyes. There's one with a familiar woman as well, a third birthday party with "Happy Birthday Matthew" scrawled on the cake.]

I thought you might like to hear the news.

[PUBLIC.]

Need a job. In Gotham.

[Group Lock to all Alexanders(+Iris) and (in a rare extension of caring) all Donovans too.]

We all in one piece?

It seems Natasha is seeking Banner's aid in restoring her full memories that the Red Room took from her.

[Also included is some information he gained on Ra's and Wayne by popping into a door where they're fictional :D] I am unsure of how much of this is true but it's all I could find thus far sir.

[Locked journal - Claire B]

Hello, Claire. Are you well?

Who: Pepper and Charles
Where: A car on the way from Manhattan to Westchester.
When: 5 July
What: Mutant collection.

( I can't think of one single clever thing to put in a cut tag. So here goes nothing. A duck walks into a pharmacy and buys some lip balm. The pharmacist says 'How do you want to pay for this?' and the duck says 'Put it on my bill.' )