1965-05-08 - Avengers Social
Summary: Plus an alien.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
tony noh-varr chris peter-parker 

Swinging through the sky from building to building, Spider-Man makes his way towards Avengers Manor. He lands against a side wall, and crawls up a floor to a side window. Laying hands on the window he pushes it up, then crawls in. There's eight Buckies in the attic so he has been advised to avoid his usual roof entrance, you see. He comes striding down to the foyer of the mansion, and looks around for a moment; not seeing any strangers, he pulls off his mask and gives a little sigh.

Chris is in the conference room doodling on the chalkboard. He's managed to sketch out a rough skyline and one particular building at a nearer perspective and seems to be adding little windows, each one with something in them. In one, there's a plant, in another, a cat. In a third, there are just curtains that are drawn closed. He's been at it for a while given that he's filled the lower left side of the chalkboard at this point. He stands back for a moment, considering the next open window, as though not sure what to put in that one. His back is to Peter and so he doesn't see him. He's dressed in a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt, and his leather jacket is tossed on one of the conference room chairs.

As Peter sort of wanders, he comes to the conference room and freezes; not recognizing the figure, he quickly puts his mask back on. "Hey." he greets in a chipper voice, "Uhh, please tell me you're an Avenger?" He walks around to get a look at the chalkboard, "… Whoa hey, you're talented." The smile can be heard on his voice, even though he's masked at the moment.

The sound of the voice behind him seems to shake Chris out of his reverie and he turns, glancing back to see Spider-Man. There's that moment or two where he questions whether it's really Spider-Man or not, and then he remembers where he is. Of course, it is. This all seems to cross his expression while Peter looks at his doodles on the chalkboard, "In training," he says, qualifying his status as an almost-Avenger. "I'm Chris," he offers a hand and then grins at the drawing on the board. "It was just sitting here, all blank and I figured.. probably don't want secret mission plans just sitting up on a board — but it needed something. Now it has a doodle."

Peter lifts his hand up to pull off his mask again, which leaves his hair a little adorably ruffled. He might look a little surprisingly young, especially since Spider-Man has been superheroing for five years now— he would have been just a kid when he started. But he takes Chris' hand and grins, "It has a doodle indeed!" He laughs, "And a nice doodle at that. I'm not particularly artistic myself— except for photography, which I suppose counts— more into science in general, but I can respect a good doodle. I'm Peter. Welcome to the team."

"Well it's not high art or anything," Chris says with a bit of a laugh, "But it's what I've got." It's not bad. It's not going to win any awards. It's definitely cartoonish in nature, the proportions, the level of detail or lack thereof, but as doodles go — it's pretty good. He studies it for a moment, and then he turns back to shake Peter's hand, seeming perhaps for a moment a little surprised indeed that the boy looking back at him doesn't look any older than he does. But then, he wasn't much older when he found the amulet. There's a grin that stretches across his features as he says, "Photography is very cool. Knowing how to take a great photograph is a talent, too." He looks around the conference room for a moment and then nods, "It's.. good to have a team, I think. Still getting used to the idea."

"I need coffee. Want coffee?" Peter turns, gesturing an invitation before he heads for the kitchen, "Hey, I like it." He laughs, "You can doodle for me anytime you want." He glances curiously at Chris, "So, you're a little young to be a battle-hardened soldier like Cap or a super-soldier, so I assume you're powered. Mind if I ask what you can do? I'm, well, obviously, the Spider-Man." He grins.

"Coffee sounds good," Chris says with a nod and waits for Peter to lead the way, following along behind him toward the kitchen. He says, "Maybe I will," in regard to the doodling. He laughs a little wryly then and says, "Yeah I'm not.. either of those things. I'm the Darkhawk. I can show you, if you want to see." I mean, they're all Avengers here, right? He's not making any attempt to hide his identity from the Spider-Man.

Peter goes over to the coffee machine, and goes about making the coffee. He sets his mask on the counter, then turns and leans nonchalantly against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. He smiles, an easy and warm smile, "Oh yeah, that'd be cool." He nods eagerly, "I'm not immediately remembering, but it sounds familiar, just not placing you. Cool name, though!" He offers a thumbs up.

Chris grins a little bit at the thumbs-up over the name, "Thanks. You'll see why in a sec." He then places his hand over his chest, which only somewhat concealed a kind of violet glow beneath, and then there's a sort of phasing out of the boy, and a phasing in over what looks to be a several inches taller, more muscular man in a black suit from head to toe with silver amor pieces, and a set of very large retractable wings, which he opens out carefully so as not to knock everything in the kitchen over in the process. In the center of the chestpiece glows a deep violet gem that matches the shadowlight within the avian looking visor.

This version: http://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/darkhawk.jpg

Peter gapes, mouth falling open, "…whoa, that is so cool." he breathes, reaching out to touch the suit thoughtfully, "Is this like a suit? Like Mr. Stark's? Well the proportions are off but that could be augments… and… like." He blinks a moment and just laughs, "So cool."

When Chris speaks, the voice that comes out of the suit is alien, and seems suited more to the avian looking man than the boy who had been standing in the kitchen a moment before. "Not quite the same. Different. But I'm in control of it." He retracts the wings to avoid any undue accidents that large metal wings in an enclosed space can lead to, and then with a twist of his hand he produces a sharp blade of similar material to the suit, like a punch dagger, and with the other hand he twists and a blaster appears in the other hand. With a twist the other way, they vanish as quickly as they were summoned up. He doesn't stay that way for very long though, phasing back in, and letting the suit return from whence it was summoned. He squints and puts one hand to his head, reaching out to balance against the counter for a moment, before he straightens up a bit.

The weapons— especially the blaster— makes Peter's eyebrows try to climb up off his face. "I wanna take it apart and see how it works." He grins, "Don't worry, I won't, but… so cool." He laughs softly, "And I have the same feeling about Mr. Stark's suit. I thought with my internship that I'd get a closer look at its inner workings, but so far it hasn't happened." he sighs wistfully, "I'm a science nerd, okay? Don't make me stick you to a wall if you feel like teasing me about it." He offers another grin at that.

"You can't take it apart," Chris snaps suddenly, looking up from where he'd slumped against the counter a bit, and then immediately looks contrite, "Sorry it.. it messes with my head.. a bit." He takes a few slow deep breaths and then he turns to lean against the counter. "I get it, though, wanting to figure out how it works. I'd be interested to know how the Iron Man suit works, too." He smiles a little lopsidedly then and shakes his head, "I'm not going to tease you about it. I like learning stuff just for the sake of learning it. Though I guess then I could say I got stuck to a wall by Spider-Man.. and not everyone can say that." He does laugh a little at that.

The snapping makes Peter blink a moment, for just a second the tingle in the back of his head flared at the aggression. "Yeah, Mr. Stark has some miniaturization going on that is at least a generation ahead of what everyone else has, as far as I can tell." He then has to laugh softly in return, "To be fair, its increasingly common, sticking people to walls is how I end most fights. People are packaged up for the cops to come pick up then. You'd be the first *nice* guy I did it too though, so maybe you meant it differently." He flushes slightly.

"No I.. meant it .." Chris starts to say and then stops abruptly. Then he laughs just a little bit. He and Peter are standing in the kitchen next to the coffee maker while it brews, leaning against the counter and talking. In the conference room, if one passed by it and noticed, the chalkboard has an extensive skyline doodle drawn on it that seems to have been abandoned for the time being.

Avengers Mansion's doorbell doesn't ding so much as it tolls. A ding just wouldn't be fitting. It's then followed by knocking, somewhat impatient in nature.

"Meant what?" There's a blink, and so Peter grabs his mask and slides it back on; he hasn't changed out of his suit yet so answering with his face hanging out would be counter-productive to the whole secret identity thing. He grins right before the mask is completely down, then heads through to the door, tugging it open, "Calmness— oh its you. Hi."

Chris follows Peter on out of the kitchen as he goes to answer the door. He hangs back a bit, hands in his pockets, leaning a little bit against the wall. When Peter seems to recognize whoever is on the other side of the door, some of the tension that had started to build in his shoulders eases a little.

Noh-Varr blinks once when he sees the costumed Peter. "What are you doing here?" he asks. He knows he's in the right place so the other must not be. "Well, doesn't matter. I'm here to see Captain Marvel." The figure behind Peter isn't him so he looks back to the one who answered the door. Pause. "Hi."

"I'm an Avenger. I…'work' here. Well, I recooperate from working, here." Spider-Man says with a slightly defensive tone, "And who? Do you mean a Captain America? There's no other Captains on the team. There's me, Mr. Stark, Thor…" He doesn't list them all, but gives a shrug, "Well, I'm sorta new, a little, and don't do things with the others all the time, so maybe I don't know them." He glances back at Chris, then steps aside to let Noh-Varr in if he wants to enter.

Chris looks at Noh-Varr with both brows raised a little bit at the announcement. He then looks over at Peter as though to confirm whether there is a Captain Marvel in residence. If there is, he doesn't seem to recognize him. But he doesn't have a better answer to the question so he just watches the conversation for a moment or two.

"Captain Marvel." Noh-Varr repeats, stepping inside. "He's a Kree warrior. I thought he was dead." At least he was in his own reality and the one he spent some time in before this one. "He's considered a traitor actually, as he chose Earth over his own people." Glancing around the interior, he then looks back to the others. "I suppose Stark is a member here?"

Once the door is closed, Peter hesitates, then cocks his head, "I need coffee. You want some?" This is asked of Noh-Varr, but as he says it, he lifts his hand up and pulls off his mask. He grins, and explains to Chris, "There were evil dwarf robots, it was a thing, he helped, so he's not really a civilian." He looks back to Noh-Varr, "I'm Peter, this is Chris. But no, I don't know any Kree warriors. Well there was that guy who showed up at the UN, but I was only there outside loooking in through the glass in case something went sideways and he needed to get his butt kicked." Assuming they follow him into the kitchen, he tosses his mask, grabs a few mugs, and starts pouring coffee.

Chris, standing near the kitchen door, turns to head back in when Peter leads them back toward the coffee. His head is still aching a little and he goes in the direction of the caffeine. He explains, "I'm new." He leans back against the counter to wait for the gift of coffee, and says to Noh-Varr, "I don't know any Kree at all, for that matter. So.. are you sure that you're in the right place?"

"Civilian? No. I'm Captain Noh-Varr of the 18th Kree Diplomatic Gestalt." Looking from Peter to Chris and back, he asks "You don't know Billy do you? He collects pretty boys." Coffee would be fine so he follows Peter into the kitchen. "Do you have cream? I like cream in my coffee. And I'm sure. I heard Captain Marvel was a member of the Avengers. The name might be coincidence." he admits. "But it's worth investigating."

Peter pauses, and gives Noh-Varr a long look, then shakes his head to clear it. He fetches cream from the fridge, and sugar from a cabinet; he adds cream himself then sets it down for others to serve themselves. FOr his part he adds a lot of sugar. "A 'diplomatic gestalt' sounds a little painful." he admits, "And you make it sound like this Billy guy is some old perv with a harem, I don't know a Billy that has a … collection of pretty boys." He's flushing a bit now. "I don't know any Captain Marvel, but you can stick around until Mr. Stark or Captain Rogers stops by to see if they do."

"I know a few folks named Billy, Will, William, or variants on a theme, but uh.. probably not the one that you're talking about," Chris says, still eyeing Noh-Varr curiously. Then he looks over at Peter and there's a flicker of surprise and then a slight cough from him before he goes over to take a bit of sugar and a bit of cream and add them into his coffee. "There could be," he says with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Then he nods in agreement with Peter. "Maybe they'll turn up." He lifts his mug, glancing between the two of them, and then takes a long swallow.

"No, every member of the crew was a diplomat in some way. It's what made us successful." Noh-Varr explains. "We had just put an end to the Kree-Skrull war." He only adds some cream to his coffee before taking a sip. "No, Billy is also young and pretty. And every one of his… friends I've met is too." He glances at them both and says "I'm told your culture doesn't like talk of such things. Apologies if I've made you uncomfortable."

"Guys aren't… pretty." Peter shakes his head slowly, "Guys are handsome. Possibly hot. Its not that you make me uncomfortable— I don't mind people doing whatever they they want together, its none of my business— its that you sound _super_weird_ and a little bit creepy coming up and talking to people you just met about being pretty." But he shrugs, "Must be a Kree thing." At that he grins and sips his coffee, "I'll forgive you for helping with the dwarfbots." He glances sidelong at Chris, "There was also a giant-ape that turned into a talking bird and a Young Hulk."

Chris is judiciously staying out of the entire conversation. He continues to drink from his mug of coffee as he glances back and forth between the two of them. "You do sound kind of super weird," he has to agree with Peter on that one. "But if you're some kind of alien, then I guess that makes sense." He then looks over at Peter and says, "There was an .. ape that turned into a talking bird.. wait.. a young Hulk? From like another dimenson or a time traveler or something?"

Noh-Varr shrugs. It's the humans who are weird but he'll just let them think they're the normal ones. "I'm still not certain that wasn't a Skrull. The green one isn't the Hulk, he just uses a similar name. He's a shapeshifter." Pause. "Who I'm not certain isn't a Skrull."

Peter shrugs slightly, "He was a blond kid who got big and green, Hulkling? Something like that." He can't help but laugh at Chris' confusion, "From the gist of what I got, there were two shapeshifters. Hulk, and a guy who could turn into animalss… but lost his clothes in doing so, as giant apes are…big. However surprisingly effective against robots." He looks blankly over at Noh-Varr, "I'm not clear _what_ a Skrull is except that they were having some conflict with the Kree. The Avengers had to get involved somewhat but that was before my time with them."

"I just hurd about it on TV," Chris admits, "I was out on the west coast when it happened and didn't get back until not too long ago." He seems to be following the two separate shapeshifter parts, but it's the clarification on who Hulkling might be that finally seems to straighten it out for him. "So they just.. oddly have similar names. Got it."

"The Skrulls are a race of shapeshifting aliens who have one of the larger empires in the local galactic cluster." Noh-Varr explains. "The Kree and Shi'ar are the others. And if the bird-ape truly couldn't make clothes, then he's not a Skrull. They can shapeshift any clothing they want. They're perfect impostors."

"Also they both get big and green." explains Peter with a quick grin, sipping his coffee, but he nods slowly over to Noh-Varr, "Well I suppose he could have been faking the clothes thing, but I don't see the Skrulls wandering in and helping save people from the dwarfbots."

"..admittedly, I'm surprised a Kree did, too. You guys haven't been known to be super helpful."

"Mostly vaguely threatening, from what I can tell," Chris says with a glance over to Peter and then toward Noh-Varr. "So what are you doing on Earth? I mean, aside from apparently helping out with dwarfbots and looking for Captain Marvel? Unless that's why you're hear.. looking for Captain Marvel.."

Noh-Varr says, "@emit "I'm not from this reality." Noh-Varr answers. "I have no desire to conquer your planet in the name of the Kree Empire." Any more. "No, I didn't come here looking for him or anyone. My ship was damaged. It'll take some effort to get fixed. I should probably talk to Stark about it. Between him and Reed Richards, it might be possible.""

Peter hesitates, tilts his head to the side, "I'm an intern at Stark Industries, I can put you in touch. I'm also basically… uh." Peter coughs softly, gives a little shrug, "…really kinda smart. I can help Mr. Stark if you want to, I'd love to get a look at some alien tech." He flushes slightly at what amounts to almost a brag. He does nod over in agreement with Chris, "Yeah that was my impression too."

"Oh," Chris says, "Well, that's a relief." Because he hadn't even considered that as a possibility until just that moment, and he doesn't look entirely reassured until Noh-Varr goes on to explain about his broken ship. Then he nods slowly and says, "Pretty sure with some of the brains that are gathered around here, you'll be back in business before you know it. Please continue to not want to conquer our planet after that happens."

Noh-Varr studies Peter a moment. "I could show it to you but I'm selling some of the technology to the Future Foundation. So you could look at the ship but not in any detail." FInishing his coffee, he sets the cup down. "It's not that simple. I could repair the ship myself if that was the only problem. The major issue is that it's fused with the rock underground. I'll need to remove as much as possible, piece by piece, and build a completely new but smaller ship. That'll take a while. After which I'll still not want to conquer your planet." he assures Chris. "The Kree of this reality probably still do however."

"How exactly are you going to get help from Mr. Stark without him being able to look at the ship in detail?" wonders Peter with a furrowed brow, still sipping his own coffee.He shrugs though, "Yeah, well, good luck to them. I'm our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and I say No to Conquering. Plus…" He cocks a thumb at Chris, "He's got this seriously badass suit-…thing."

"Okay, well, as long as we're clear on the whole not conquering part," Chris says. "Preventing world domination, one Kree at a time." When Peter points out his bad-ass suit-thing he shoots him a briefly annoyed look almost snapping again but he manages to reign it in quickly and says, "So if you're selling the tech to the competition, yeah, how do you expect folks here to help at all?" He squints a little over at Noh-Varr.

"I meant you." Noh-Varr tells Peter. "How much I'm willing to show Stark will depend on what arrangements I can come to with him. Since your world uses hard currency, business is business, as you say. And I can sell them each different things so there's no overlap. Do you have a version of Stark's suit?" he asks Chris.

Peter shrugs, finishing his coffee and going to put it in the dishwasher, "Your loss. I can't help if I don't look closely at the tech. Mr. Richards and Mr. Stark aren't the only smart people on the planet, nor the only inventors." He tosses an apologetic look over to Chris, wincing slightly. He then goes over to hop up and sit on the edge of the counter.

"No," Chris says to Noh-Varr when asked if he has a version of Stark's suit. "It's different." Then after another moment's pause he says, "It's alien. It's not from this world." Then he glances back over to Peter and shrugs his shoulders, a faint smile reappearing. Then he takes another sip from his mug, finishing off the remainder of his coffee.

"I don't need smart. I've got that covered. I need money." Noh-Varr tells Peter. "Once that's taken care of, then we'll see. But like I said, you can have a tour but no taking anything apart." Considering what Chris said, he asks "What race is it from?"

"Eh, tour." Peter doesn't seem especially interested in just seeing alien tech. "Anyone want a sandwich? I'm going to make a cold cuts sandwich." He heads to the refridgerator to start pulling out supplies, though he has a curious glance over at Chris at the question.

In the kitchen of the Avengers Mansion, coffee is being had. In fact, Chris refills his cup and liberally adds sugar and cream to it before he takes up his spot leaning against the counter not too far from Peter, who sits on the counter as they talk with Noh-Varr. When Noh-Varr asks about what race he pauses for a moment, and then admits, "I don't know." Though the topic of a sandwich as Peter goes to head toward the fridge seems to summon the growl up from his stomach and he says, "Yeah that'd be cool." He then gets down some plates and asks Noh-Varr, "Want a sandwich?" No reason not to be hospitable.

Noh-Varr shakes his head. "No, I should be going. I'm expected elsewhere and since Captain Marvel is not here, I shouldn't stay. But I'll be back. Tell him I'm looking for him and not to kill him."

"See ya. Nice to meet you, Captain." Peter goes about making some cold cut sandwiches, with ham, salami, provolone, tomato, olive oil and vinegar, oregano. He's presently in his Spider-Man suit, but since he's in the mansion with ostensibly only Avengers who all know his name, he doesn't have the mask on. He pours himself some juice, but looks to Chris questioningly and lifts the juice to make an offer, "How you feeling, Chris? How long does that…last?"

Tony comes in from upstairs, his footfalls heavy on the steps, and he trundles into the kitchen. He's scowling, but it's a mild scowl, more irritated than angry. He pauses, looking around at the trio gathered there. "Did I take a wrong turn and end up in a high school cafeteria?" he says. Then he goes to the cupboard for a coffee cup. "Parker," he says by way of greeting. He glances at the other two. "Blond kid, brown-haired kid."

"Starting to feel a bit better," Chris says to Peter and then nods as the juice is offered, accepting a glass. "Nice to meet you," he says to Noh-Varr and then says, "If I see him, I'll let him know." But then Tony is coming down into the kitchen. Greeted by his hair color, the brown-haired kid nods to Tony in greeting and moves out of the way so there's room for coffee getting. He still has his own mug in his hands, which he returns to drinking from. He refrains from pointing out he's already graduated high school.

Noh-Varr starts for the door but then pauses and turns. A moment later, Tony's steps can be heard and he wanders in. "Tony Stark." he says. "I am Captain Noh-Varr of the 18th Kree Diplomatic Gestalt. We'll talk. Later." Giving the man a nod, he's out the door.

"Mr. Stark. Want a sandwich?" He nods after Noh-Varr, "He's going to try to sell you some alien tech. He _won't_ let _me_ look at it." Peter's a little put off about that. "Mr. Stark, this is Chris, Darkhawk. He's an Avengers trainee. I can help him out if you think it'd be a good idea. Hey, that 3,4methyldichromide worked out great, by the way. Its serving as the perfect catalyst for the hydrocarbon chain to tighten the bonds when the webbing changes into state three and hardens. Doubles the tensile strength. Thanks. I owe you, that stuff is hard to get."

Tony waves a hand at the offer of a sandwich, pauses, then says, "Sure, why not." He looks in the upper cupboards, frowning. Finally he asks, "Have either of you seen a bottle of scotch?" It's just a passing question though, and Tony's attention becomes much sharper when alien tech is mentioned. "Gosh, I mean, if he's gotta." There's a gleam in his eyes, though. After a drink of coffee, he tells Peter, "Good. Good, that's great to hear." He glances at Chris, giving him a once-over. "Yeah, train him up. You know the drill."

"In the sideboard in the conference room," Chris says to Tony. Why does Chris know where the bottle of scotch is hiding? He doesn't even bat an eyelash. Then he glances between Tony and Peter briefly at the mention of alien tech. There's a slight tension there, and then he says, "Right, training. Definitely working on that." He moves to grab another plate for Tony to add to the two for the both of them.

In short order, there are sandwiches on three plates, one handed over to Tony, "Is there anything in particular you want me to work on with the internship, Mr. Stark?" he asks, his tone just slightly shy of hero-worship for the science-y-ist of the Avengers. He looks over to Chris, "We can practice sparring. I'm super hard to hurt, especially with punches, so we can fight full out solidly. Though not in here, not without breaking the mansion. Just… no weapons."

Tony takes the offered sandwich, but then he puts it down on the counter. Holding up a finger to Peter, he says, "Hold that thought." He heads swiftly to the conference room, returning with a scotch bottle that has about a third of its contents left. "I swear to god, Santa's Helper," Tony mutters under his breath. He puts the bottle in a cupboard, then takes up his sandwich again. "Thanks, kid," he tells Chris. Then he focuses on Peter. "I'm working on building realistic synthetic skin. I want you on that project. Could use as many brains as we can get on this one."

"Sure, we can do that," Chris says to Peter, seeming to find that agreeable, "Though I mean in this .. like this.. I don't really do a whole lot of damage. I'm pretty sure it'd feel like I was tickling you." He grins a little lopsidedly. Then he accepts the sandwich and grins at Tony, "Sure." He then quiets again while the sciency folks talk science things at one another, sitting down at the table and eating his sandwich.

"Perfect." Peter nods his head quickly, grinning, "Biochemistry and chemistry are some of my favorite fields." Not that he's met a science field he didn't like, "The enhanced covalent bonds of state 2 mark 4 webbing might actually be applicable; its almost entirely a carbon polymer but is flexible and stretchy, as skin needs to be. I look forwward to it. Is its intended application burn victims, or something more exotic?" He looks over to Chris, "No, I mean you powered up. We'll go out of town, find a nice big field."

"That's what I was thinking," Tony says with an upnod of approval to Peter. The kid's smart, no need to deny it or, god forbid, stifle it. "I've got a prototype, but it doesn't move quite like skin moves. The original project is getting a sleeve to put on Barnes' arm so he can go out in public and not get recognized. Since I'm studying his arm for a new line of prosthetics for our boys coming home not-in-one-piece, the skin could be useful there, and sure, burn victims." He asides to Chris, "So what's your deal, kid? What do you do?"

Chris doesn't follow any of it. He's smart, but he just doesn't have the book learning to follow at the moment, and so his entire attention shifts to his sandwich as he makes his way through it, aware that they're having a conversation but not really paying attention to it. When Tony addresses him directly, he stops eating mid-chew and looks at him for a second, as though not sure if he meant him. Then he finishes swallowing and says, "I.. ah.. I have this armor, and I use it to fight, and fly." Now that Noh-Varr isn't there, he seems okay with talking about it.

"We'll want something to simulate the texture of muscle too, then, but that's a lot easier because no one sees or touches it for real." Peter muses to Tony, nodding, "I'll be in tomorrow morning first thing to look at the prototype and current state of research." He nods over to Chris, encouragingly, "It messes with his mood when he takes it off so he might not want to demonstrate now, maybe you can watch us spar?" He says, trying to help his new friend out.

"It's a rough prototype," Tony says, "Very rough. I've been playing around with polymers. Barnes is already impressed, but we'll show him what we can do when we mean business." He munches on his sandwich as he listens to Chris. Then he swallows and says, "Do you have your armor with you? I want to take a look at it."

Chris looks over at Peter and nods about the mood thing. "It.. there's a lot going on in my head when I'm in it, and it really boosts my adrenaline.. and aggression, and so I have.. side-effects after," he explains. When Tony wants to take a look at it, he hesitates, looks over at Peter, then back at Tony. "You can't take it apart. It's not like that. It's alive."

Peter gives Tony an enthusiastic thumbs up; the kid's a genius who likes projects, a lot. He looks at Chris, "You can trust Mr. Stark." he says gently, then adds, "It kinda has this bird alien vibe, Mr. Stark. Seamless, big. I'm still not clear what happens when he's in it, he doesn't seem to be in it quite, the proportions are wrong. And the side-effects when he comes out is why I thought you could come witness our sparring."

There's a glint of disappointment in Tony's eyes as he's told he can't take the armor apart, but hey, if it's alive, technically that would be murder. And a study in biology. Tony purses his lips. Biology isn't his favorite. "Alive, huh?" Tony says. "Where do you find living armor?" Peter gets a nod, and he says, "Yeah, I want to see this. You had me at 'alien vibe.'"

There's a look between Peter and Stark, then back to Peter. There's something about Peter's reassurance that seems to give Chris the confidence it takes to trust Tony. He reaches into his shirt and he pulls out an amulet that he wears around his neck. It's roughly diamond shaped, and glows an eerie violet. "When I focus on the amulet, it summons the suit.. and I'm there and not there in the suit. I possess it. And I can hear it in my head, but I can't make sense of most of it. But I can fight in it, and fly, and it's strong and fast, and then when I want to shift back, I just concentrate on the amulet again and it brings me back."

"It's kind of wild to say." Peter nods his head quickly to Tony, "How's tomorrow? We'll head out of town where there's no buildings giving me advantages and where its okay if we bowl down a tree. Just be careful with the weapons it lets you pull out— I'd survive a train trying to run me over but a super strong person stabbing me might hurt. I'd still heal, but ow. Plus you'd mess up the suit." This last bit is plaintive. He gestures down. THE SUIT.

"Sure, I can clear tomorrow," Tony says. He comes closer to Chris so he can take a good look at the amulet, holding out a hand but not quite touching. Oh, but he wants to. "Interesting. What does the entity get from you by letting you possess it?" Then Peter gestures to The Suit, and he say, "That reminds me. I'm working on body armor. Barnes is my test subject. There's this scientist in Poland, Kwolek or whatever her name is, who has been working with para-aramid synthetic fiber. I've been studying her work, and I think I could tighten it up a bit and create something lightweight, bulletproof, and if we add a few bells and whistles, maybe put something in it that absorbs radiation and lasers."

"I'm not going to hit you with the weapons," Chris says with a shake of his head. "I was just showing you that I could have weapons if I needed them." He seems to relax a little bit more. When Tony reaches out to touch the amulet, Chris draws it back a little and he puts it back around his neck. He shrugs his shoulders and says, "I don't know. I can't talk to it. I just control it. I can feel it though."

Peter perks up: he's not done any tech in his suit yes, not that he has no ideas for how to tech it up a bit, but he's thus far lacked any resources. He's lucky its pretty. "That'd be great! I can almost always dodge out of the way of a bullet, except when there's a lot of them. The Spidey-Sense has me out of the way before the bullet's nearby. But its not perfect, and not dying? Huge personal goal of mine. Radiation and lasers are harder to dodge even with precognition, so bonus points." He looks to Chris, and grins, "Hey, you'll find me surprisingly hard to hit." There's a certain challenge in his tone.

Tony lets his hand drop. No touchie, okay, he can work with that. He goes to collect his coffee and takes a drink. He wags a finger at Peter and says, "This won't be light, tight, or elegant. Not at first. It'll be a rush job becuase Barnes needs it yesterday, but if it performs well in the field, we can see about thinning it down some." He considers Peter's suit. "If we can hammer out a thin matrix of radio-absorbing material, maybe a sure way to ground it, we could work that into what you've got. We'll see how they work on Barnes." He asides to Chris, gesturing at the amulet, "That's cool, and I want you to tell me all about it."

"I'm sure I will.. find you hard to hit, that is. But still, just saying. I wouldn't purposefully shoot at you," Chris says. "Wouldn't want to ruin the suit." The suit! He then nods to Tony and says, "I'll tell you everything that you want to know.. and you can see it when I get back into it. And you can examine it all you want as long as you want then."

"Barnes can be the test case for developing the technology, we can work on refining it into something that'd work for me later." Peter says agreeably, "I just like the idea of working on something that might be useful for me later. But yes, I can't accept much reduction in reaction or agility, because 90% of my survival strategy is based on relying on instincts and moving fast and with dexterity. Almost no one can hurt me mostly because almost no one can *get* to me." He's confident in his abilities, at least. Perhaps overconfident? Then again no one entirley understands how his Spidey-Sense works. He casts a look over to Chris and laughs, "I appreciate the appreciation of the suit. You should have seen mark 1. It was sorta blue sweatpants, a red hoodie, and this goofy mask.. thing."

Tony tells Peter, "People say pride cometh before the fall. But they're wrong. Way to believe in youself, kid." Chris gets a thumbs up. Tony doesn't want to wait, but he can. He pretends to be patient all the time with varying levels of success. He finally polishes off his sandwich, and he refills is coffee cup. "Your mark 3 is going to make that one looks like it makes the mark 1 look," Tony says.

Chris grins over at Peter when he describes the original suit, seeming much more at ease the longer that they all talk, enough so that he stops clutching the pendant around his neck in an unconscious death-grip. He then grins a little bit at the mention of the improvements to be made to the suit and he says, "Can't wait to get to see the stuff that you guys come up with."

"I'm not _proud_, I have a gift I've been using since I was 14, I just know what I can do." protests Peter, his upbringing not encouraging 'pride' as positive— though it didn't encourage shame either. Humility, though, comes naturally to him. Except in this case. He smiles at Chris' grin, nodding encouragingly, "We're a team around here, Chris. We have eachothers back. You really can trust us." He sees Chris is relaxing, but he offers encouragement despite that. Then he grins back to Tony, finally finishing his sandwich, "I've got some ideas, but I'd like to see the formula for this materil you're talking about."

Humility. What's that again? Tony claps Peter on the shoulder, briefly, and tells him, "It's okay to toot your own horn once in awhile." Here he is, being a great influence on today's youth. He goes over to the drawer of random kitchen stuff and finds an old reciept and a pen. As he jots down the formula, he says to Chris, "It's like he said. We're a team. I fly the suit and invent things to keep you guys affective and safe. When you succeed, I look good."

"Yeah, I'm.. still getting used to that," Chris admits. He's been on his own for the better part of three years, and having a team is still very, very new to him. But he smiles a bit at the encouragement, and then nods to Tony. "And I'm .. still a little overwhelmed seeing all you guys just.. around.. rather than on TV." A little starstruck? Maybe.

Peter reaches over to squeeze Chris' arm reassuringly, "Hey, you want to know a secret?" He offers, "Almost all those pictures of me in the BUgle… were staged and taken _by_ me." He laughs, "I did my own publicity, mostly because I was broke and they paid well for them. I'm just a guy, a guy.." He looks to Tony, "..who got some amazing powers and decided he had an obligation to use them for good." He is so ernest, this Peter. "So I do. Is that any really different then you, Chris?" He looks to Tony, "Or you, Mr. Stark? YOu could still be making weapons and profiting off of war."

Tony arches an eyebrow. "I'm in it for the chicks," he says, and he offers the formula over to Peter. "I do still make weapons, but I'm more intrested now in body armor, prosthetics, that sort of thing. The US government has proven it can find new and interesting ways to kill people without my help." He smiles crookedly at Peter. "I should've known you were taking your own shots. You're that kind of resourceful." Then he flashes a smile at Chris. Yeah, he knows he's famous.

"I ah, just want to be the guy that I thought my father was and do some good with what I've got. So no, guess we're not all that different," Chris says as he looks over to Peter, taking that reassurance. Then he looks over toward Tony and grins a little in return. Before he suddenly says, "Wait, how did you manage to take your own shots while fighting crime?"

"Carefully positioned cameras with remote triggers I invented." Peter grins, reaching to the back of his utility belt and pulling out a small bronze tab, "This for example, is a Spider-Tracker. I place it on you, I can follow you anywhere, nothing can block it, and nothing can detect it. The signal it uses is detectable only with my Spidey-Sense. Chris, man, my super power isn't strength or speed, its up here…" He taps at his head, "Not unlike Mr. Stark." His hero! His voice says slightly. "I invent stuff." He turns a grin to Tony, "Yeah I'm surprised no one called me on it, but I was always careful. But." More serious, "I like the idea of working on prosthetics. Helping our guys in the war."

"After I got a look inside Barnes' arm, it got me thinking," Tony says. "No one's looking into how we take care of our boys after they come home. It's all about getting them over there and getting them killed." He shakes his head, frowning. "When Dad sold weapons, we were fighting the good fight. Now?" His expression darkens. Now, not so much. Then he snaps out of it and says lightly, "Anyway, prosthetics is an untapped field. We'll be top of the line."

There's a considering look as Peter describes the tracker and what it can do, as though mulling over something in his head. He doesn't share it though, at least not yet. Instead, he glances over toward Tony and then back to Peter, as they talk about prosthetics and the invention of things.

"I'm all in, Mr. Stark." Peter is downright eager, "Yeah, I get it though. Nazi's or the War To End All Wars verses whatever the heck we're doing in Vietnam, I don't even know. Things are brutal now, too." He gives a curious look over at Peters look, but doesn't pry into what's not shared. Instead he looks back to Tony, "Still these guys are heros and deserve the best we can give them."

Chris gets up from the table then and gathers the empty sandwich plates. He washes them all off along with the cups of juice that are done and the coffee mugs before putting them away while the others talk. When he's done with that he turns and says, "I think I gotta go get some rest now.. especially if I want to spar tomorrow." He then says, "It was nice to meet you, Peter.. Mr. Stark." Then he slips out of the room.

"It's the US and the Ruskies having a pissing contest," Tony says. He gives Chris and upnod and says, "Yeah, see you around… Chris. Going to have to work on a nickname for you." He gestures to Peter with his mug. "Took the words right out of my mouth. If no one else will take care of them, we will."

"Darkhawk." Peter provides the nickname to Tony easily, rising and heading over to the coffee with a mug to pour himself a cup. Cream, sugar. He goes to settle again at the table, "It's the right thing to do, Mr. Stark." And for Peter, that's all that really matters. "But considering all the things going around, this war is really annoying to me. There's just… things… its like…" Frustration fills Peters voice, "There's _more_important_stuff_ then this."

"Darkhawk. I can work with that." He'll find his riff, no one gets called by their own name unless it's their surname. He too pours himself more coffee, taking it black. "Yes, and no," Tony says. "This war is a stupid flexing of muscles that's getting young men killed for no damn reason, but we can't afford to just let the Ruskies 'win.' They have to be stopped. I just don't know that throwing life after life at them will accomplish it."

"Should the Avengers get involved?" Peter asks with an uncertain tone, sipping at his coffee, thoughtful, "There would be geopolitical difficulties at that. We'd be forever seen as aligned with the western powers, but I don't know for sure that we aren't now. This isn't like ACT-F, but any one of us is equal to a … okay I don't know, a batallion, a company, some organizational unit of the military. I'm not saying I *want* to go to war, but the kid who can sense a bullet going at him before the person firing it has fully decided to shoot, is better on the front line then a conscript kid who has just been through basic training."

Tony looks at Peter. Just looks at him for a moment. Then he says, "The head of our team is Captain America. I'm pretty sure the world ha already taken a guess where we're aligned." He blows out his cheeks as he exhales. "If we get involved, they drudge up their guys, and believe that they have them, and it escalates quickly. "Right now, it's not ideal, but it's still normal boys taking shots at normal boys. No super-powered baddie laying waste to entire battlefields."

"Is that better? The normal boys dying so we don't fight?" There's a hint of guilt in Peter's voice, "When I first got my powers, I was 14. I didn't think it was my responsibility to fight crime, to do things. There was a thief. I let him escape: its not my responsibility. That thief killed my Uncle, and when I found him dying, he said: with great power comes great responsibility. That's how I live now, its better I'm in harms way then anyone elses." The tone of voice has shifted down to darkness, to haunted. This is the core of what drives everything about who Peter is.

Tony nods slowly. "Sure, sure, with great power comes great responsibility, but with that comes the responsibility for great wisdom. To see the bigger picture. It's hard, kid. Cap, he's got a narrow focus, and that's great for him, but that means some of us have to stand back and take a look at the bigger picture. Let's say we go over there, and sure, we might take out their bad guys, but think about the collateral damage. Let's say we win the conflict. Out come the nukes. This is a sick game of chess, but that's why we have to consider every move carefully."

The mention of nukes makes Peter wince visibly; he's confidnet against almost any foe, but you can't dodge a nuke, even with precognition. "So what do we do, Mr. Stark?" he asks, "Just focus on the work on prosthetics? If that's what we can best do, I'll do it. I know I'm smart." There's a pause and a rare moment of introspection, "I know I'm smarter then anyone else besides maybe you." He half-shrugs, "But I lack experience for the great wisdom thing. I've been winging it since I was a kid. My Uncle was wise. I think I'd even have told him about what I can do if he had survived, though I won't tell my Aunt. I'm not sure I see this bigger picture. What should I do?"

Tony says, "Yeah, wisdom comes with age and only after you make the kind of mistakes you regret all your life." He mulls over his coffee cup. "Follow my lead. If you've got questions, ask them. Then do every bit of good you can in the world. Be a friendly neighborhood Spiderman, and when something comes up that we can fight, be ready to suit up." He gestures with his mug. "And work on prosthetics, maybe field gear that can help prevent death and injury. We do what good we can."

There's just a moment of thought, and Peter nods. The kid is stupid smart so processes information quick, so deciding through all of that is easy. "Right, gotcha." He tilts back his coffee and finishes it off as he rises, "First, Project Skin. For Bucky, but also for burn victims. Then the muscle scaffolding. Then armor: I really think I could be helpful in this armor project, as its all about the chemical bonds. Then, let me get a look at Bucky's prosthetic. I know mechanical isn't my first-choice field, but it is a field I'm interested in." Name a science he isn't. "I can help, Mr. Stark. I can help keep people safe."

"Stay mad about it, though," Tony says in a low tone. Peter does manage to bring a smile to Tony's face, though. "The body armor's on a time table," he says. "Super secret mission. Other than that, I'm right with you." He nods toward the receipt where the formula is written. "Look that over, work your mojo." Chemistry isn't his forte. He still knows more about it than most people ever will, but it's not exactly his gig. "Let me know what you come up with."

"Oh okay, I'll tag in on the armor first, time-sensitive." Peter lifts up the formula, his mind twisting around the chemical properties and its implications. As chemistry IS his forte, even though he's only got a limited college education with it, his natural genius has several initial thoughts in the process. "I'm actually going to go work late on this. I might go home early from my usual schedule being in tomorrow." Peter rises with that. Then again, Peter saying that likely means he'll not only work late but work all day tomorrow on it. To say the kid has a work ethic when it comes to science is an understatement, "I'll send you a note when I have some breakthrough."

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