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[buildsomething]

You have not reached Tony Stark. Clearly. Leave a message and I'll get back to you if I feel like it.

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Comments

text;

[wingedman]

Pizza and movies tonight, my place.

Unless you had other plans, that is.

1/2

[buildsomething]

I think I can make time for you. Something up?

2/2

[buildsomething]

Oh, huh. 29th already?

[wingedman]

Hey, you actually checked the calendar, good for you.

Steve's coming over for a bit, but I figure we can have a private sleepover after he leaves.


[famous last words]

Voicemail Left by (1) Peter Parker for you

[madeupnames]

Hey, Mr. Stark! I know you're probably super busy and all, but if you have any time set aside Iiiii — Kinda burned my suit a little bit and might need some... repairs...? I mean, I'd totally do it all on my own, but this thing is like worth a bajillion dollars, and I'm fifteen. So it's kind of a little out of my comfort zone. It's nothing super bad, just on the arm! And one leg. And a little on the mask. But nothing super serious. Yeah. Um. This is Peter, by the... You already know that, but just in case you have, like, middle-men here, too. I don't know. Thanks!

text

[buildsomething]

Burned how?

[That is not a good lead-in, Peter.]

text

[madeupnames]

[No it’s a great lead-in, whatever do you mean....!]

Oh you know, alien acid. I was super spooked for a minute but it’s a lot more realistic and not face-melty.

But now I can’t put my suit back on until I get it out, bleh.

Voice (probably actually around 7/20/18 or some such :'))

[madeupnames]

Umm. Mr. Stark?

[It's admittedly not very confident, but he figures he'd been sitting on this long enough. He told Big Pete he'd talk to Tony about it weeks ago, and even if he's unsettled by what he's heard so far... He needs to listen and actually get it over with.]

If you have a sec... Whenever you do...

What exactly do you know about a, uh — a Thanos?

[He just gets it out there. No room for cold feet now.]

[buildsomething]

[...oh god. Tony closes his eyes for a moment before he can make himself respond.]

You should probably come over.

[This is not a discussion to have over the phone.]

[madeupnames]

[He breathes in, breathes out, and suddenly he feels like his stomach is dropping through the moon and into outer space. Not being able to talk about it like this is a bad sign. But he knew it'd probably be bad.]

Y—

Yeah. Yeah, I'll be over in a few minutes. I'll be there.

[He's got his hero costume on under his clothes, so the transition is easy on the communal housing rooftops — and he can get over there in 1/8th the time, instead of having to take any long ways as Peter Parker, Normal Kid. Soon a spiderling is swinging over and landing in a window sill he frequents, knocking hesitantly.]

text;

[athiefalways]

Mister Stark, I heard you were around and you might be willing to take a look at a bit of tech I confiscated for me.

text;

[buildsomething]

Probably. Who are you and what kind of tech are we talking?

text;

[athiefalways]

The name's Remy, and I might have gotten my hands on one of the power dampeners the cultists were using.

text;

[backwaterbelle]

Hey Tony. Can we catch up?

=

[buildsomething]

Sure. Something up?

[backwaterbelle]

Trying to crawl out of my sad cave.

Drinking with friends is a step up from drinking alone, right?

Correction. With cats.

After this fun...! https://riverviewlogs.dreamwidth.org/192175.html?thread=32024751#cmt32024751

[madeupnames]

[Man, Peter feels a little bad for this. He'd been bad at keeping in touch as much as usual with just about everyone, but now he's kind of wanting to fix himself up and has nowhere particularly enjoyable to do it. He would've poked at Quill for his medical kit, maybe, but... anyways. Mr. Stark's always been there to help. So he heads for his place, huffing at the discomfort in his temple.]

Mr. Stark, can I drop by? I need ur med kit.

It's nothing bad just a lil concussion. Karen said so, it's mild.

[.......... His faith is unshaken that Mr. Stark'll let him stop by; he's just hovering around the outside of Tony's place in his Spider-Man suit, fidgeting with his phone where he sits sticking to the outside wall. It's really not a bad injury, not really, but you don't mess with head wounds. Even as a Spider-Man.

He's still wafting on if he should mention who he faced. Mr. Barnes had been looking for something and breaking the law to do it, after all. But... He doesn't wanna mess anything up, and Mr. Barnes at least seems to mostly keep to himself...]

[buildsomething]

Jesus, I am going to build you a helmet.

[ Again. Tony's fingers hesitate briefly before he continues typing. ]

Yes, get over here. Do I want to know how you managed this?

[ Weirdly, he's not all that worried. Peter gets into a lot of shit, he's impressively resilient, and Tony's done worse to himself testing out new armors. The fact that he's looking for help instead of trying to ride it out himself probably makes Peter more self aware than half the people Tony knows. ]

[madeupnames]

[He knocks on the door, probably startling poor Tony. Again. He waits until he can hear Tony closing in with his stupidly good hearing, too, and the voice behind the door is muffled but audible:]

Just got into a fistfight with someone!

Please don't build me a helmet, everyone'll laugh at me.

[Opening the door will reveal a relatively fine kid; not a scrape on him, save for the large rose-shaped bloodstain on his mask that started over his eye and has rapidly evolved into something grosser. It's really not as bad as it looks; it's just one of those bleeders you get in a MMA fight or whatever.

He still kinda feels pukey though.]

Hey man.

voice; backdate to 8/30 or so!

[nostalgiabomb]

[ It’s late, and Peter is drained. It’s nearing the end of a long, long week, and— he’s been holding it together pretty well. He’s been maintaining, with a handful of slip-ups, here and there. But that’s to be expected, right? That’s to be expected, because he literally died, and surely he can be forgiven for a few hiccups.

It’s late. It's seriously late, in that weird hour where night meets morning, and Peter is exhausted. A week, and— he’s not sure if he’s just numb or if he’s getting over it. But—

It's late. And Peter's had a pretty strong drink, and he's been sitting at the crossroads of putting this off and wanting to do this ever since the kid spilled the beans. Apparently, insomnia and a bit of liquid courage have tipped the scales.

So, here comes a voice message to your inbox in the middle of the night, Tony.

In a low, ragged voice: ]

Why the hell didn’t you say anything?

[buildsomething]

[ So Quill is back, huh. That's...something Tony doesn't not how to process, honestly. He's glad for it, sure, but this isn't something Tony is equipped for. Not like Sam, who's dealing with the same thing. Tony doesn't have to work through the idea of being dead.

But he does owe the guy something. So despite his finger hovering over the delete button, Tony finds himself writing a text instead. If they're doing this, he needs at least some distance. ]

What was I supposed to say? 'Hey, by the way you're going to die'? Would you have believed me?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter, in the meanwhile, isn't thinking entirely straight. Texting isn't really in the cards, not with the way his hands shake, and he needs to just— do this. Needs to get it out. He's venting, and he's taking it out on Stark, because who else is there?

Not Mantis. Definitely not Groot. And not Parker, who's already dealing with enough grief and guilt as it is.

Obviously, wrecking Thanos' shit would be the ideal here, caving-in his face, over and over and over until his head is unrecognizable mush, but the bastard isn't here, thank every star in the sky.

He pulls a hand through his hair, tries to keep his voice low in deference to the others sleeping nearby. ]

You could've warned me. You could've said literally anything. Even a, "Hey, it doesn't go so good, so maybe you should think twice about redeeming that ticket home."

You— you could've said— you could've told me—

[ —that Gamora is dead, but his voice catches on the words. He hasn't been able to say them aloud, refuses to admit it, because then it's real. ]

text...ish

[wingedman]

[except the only content is a video of peter taking a drink and sam cackling in the background like the responsible adult he is]

uh huh

[buildsomething]

[why.jpg]

[wingedman]

Because you definitely weren't doing anything like that when you were his age.


[YES HE KNOWS TEENAGE TONY IS THE WORST ROLE MODEL YOU DON'T NEED TO POINT IT OUT]