415/Avengers: Some Assembly Required

Avengers: Some Assembly Required
Date of Scene:	10 March 2020
Location:	Avengers Mansion - Meeting Room
Synopsis:	Tony unveils brand new Avengers merchandise to his fellow Avengers!
Cast of Characters:	Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sif, Janet van Dyne, Hank Pym

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Tony Stark has posed:
The Meeting Room has been set up for a demonstration of some kind, at least that's what JARVIS tells the other Avengers. He only lets on that it is 'something Mister Stark has been working on' and relates to the 'intellectual property contracts' they were consulted on several months earlier. Upon entering the room, however, they will see several cardboard boxes neatly stacked at one end of the table. The boxes themselves are marked with the Avengers 'A' symbol, along with differently-styled versions of the various Avenger aliases.

Tony himself sits at the head of the table, feet up on it and phone in his hand. He wears a dark blazer and jeans over a t-shirt that bears a stylized picture of Hawkeye's face and 'HAWKEYE' in bold print beneath it. He idly taps through the phone's holographic icons projected into the air before him, swiping through a number of news articles before landing on YouTube footage of himself giving a speech in his Iron Man armor (sans helmet) in some rural-looking town.

"HOMER, make a note to trial a red, white, and blue color scheme for the Mark Forty-Nine. Maybe."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha's reaction to the call for a demonstration was something like: "Oh?"
    Her reaction to it being from Tony was something like: "... Oh."
    Regardless, Natasha arrives, still dressed just for around the house in a black sweater and tights, bemusedly chiming in, "You do that you might have to switch names to the Iron Patriot." as she enters the room, adding, "And yes, you do have to pay me for that..." Natasha trails off as she spots Clint's likeness on Tony's shirt, "... one?" Color her perplexed.

Sif has posed:
"...suit's apparently just about done. He gave me a call 'nd let me know to come in for the final fitting. Guess it's more of a thing of traditional than need," says Steve as he walks down the hallway. Whomever he's talking to must be in the know about the topic at hand. "Man's been at his work for decades. Trust him to fit correctly as he always does."

La voila: Captain Rogers appears at the doorway to the meeting room in what appears to be a comfortable forest-green sweater and jeans over mocassins, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "Ah, hey Nat." Stepping to one side, Steve holds the door open for none other than Janet. After she's entered, he closes it behind them both and then pauses by the door at the sight of the piled boxes.

"Calling dibs on clever sayings?" he asks of Natasha in particular before he walks over to the empty end of the table, still looking down at Tony and the goods in open curiosity. "This all what I think it is?" The question is aimed at the genius-inventor now and accompanied by a small bemused smile.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Oh yay," Janet chimes in with a feigned dismay for the piles of campaign materials scattered around. "This is fun. I love campaign season. Nothing like fifty phone calls a day asking me to donate to various senators and commissioners and now a Presidential candidate. Tony, the CIA is /not/ allowed in here, I don't trust those sunglass-wearing douchebags to keep their spy devices away from me," Janet says with a sniff.

Janet drifts over to Steve and hugs his arm a little reflexively, though her attention's on the pile of merchandise scattered around. Everyone else is dressed down; Janet's sheathed in a sleeveless black dress, a little loose and flowing around her midsection. The motion of her hips is demarcated by a gold-link belt settled below her waistline, matching the pendant and earrings she's wearing.

"Tony, I really hope you're not going with something as garish as /that/ for the campaign trail. You'd be better off dressing Steve up as Uncle Sam," she says, a bit snootily.

Hank Pym has posed:
Dr. Hank Pym is not, in fact, on current Avenger roster. That has not stopped him from doing several things: taking over one of the upstairs rooms, leaving a sandwich in the fridge clearly marked 'HANK'S FOOD, TOUCH UPON PENALTY OF BIOHAZARD RISK', and the enormous /lab/ that is now eating up a massive space in the back yard, adjacent to where Thor has burned big circles in the lawn.

It has also not stopped him from entering the room with a stack of the posters that were stuck up onto his lab by /someone/, to dump them onto the table near Tony with a prickly stare.

Hank looks good, considering that the man has been struggling recently. His gaze is sharp, and the click of tongue to his teeth conveys all of the annoyance from the posters that needs to be said. Maybe.

Pym's eyes drift to Janet and her posture on top of Steve's bicep with minimal reaction; he does little more than straighten up, and quickly diverts his gaze to someone else: Natasha it is. "What?" He follows her gaze to Tony's shirt. "Ah." Enough said.

Tony Stark has posed:
"What about Iron President?" Tony asks Nat with a raise of his eyebrows, the sunglasses resting atop his head slipping down to cover his eyes as he grins broadly at her, "Iron Patriot President?"

He's about to say more when Steve arrives, and the grin on his face grows wider.

"You bet your star-spangled ass it is," Stark says with no small amount of pride, rising languidly from his seat once his fellow Avengers have arrived, "Months in the making but finally the day of days is here. Forget presidential campaign announcements those are (still very important) things of the past! Allow me to introduce all of you to what's going to be funding our little dog and pony show for the foreseeable."

That said, Tony tears open one of the boxes with a nearby box-cutter and reaches inside. He plucks a smaller box from within with a clear plastic front, placing it on the table and sliding it across towards Steve and Janet. Inside is a small plastic action figure that looks like a miniature Captain America. A photograph of Steve in his uniform is printed on the backing cardboard, and a little warning alerts purchasers that it is appropriate only for 'ages 7 and up'.

"Lawyers said the shields a choking hazard," Tony sighs, "I told them I've never seen anybody choke on the real thing in all the time I've known you, but they said that didn't matter." Then, a quick glance to Hank, "Hey, Hank. You need to sign some paperwork before we get you sorted here, but that shouldn't stop us from getting you kitted out. What size are you? Besides variable, I mean."

As he asks, he draws a sandwich marked 'HANK'S FOOD, TOUCH UPON PENALTY OF BIOHAZARD' from a place on the table behind one of the boxes and takes a bite out of it.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha is successfully thrown off her game, still by Stark's shirt even as her brain briefly tries to operate with less bandwidth. "I- you- we- you... *why*."
    The other arrivals are a relief, really. "Hello, Captain. Janet." She says mid sigh, "I don't know if I'd say 'clever'." She adds, and glances at Janet, the only human alive who can make her feel underdressed. Hrm. She crosses her arms.
    Hank Pym storms in, and she meets his gaze with raised eyebrows, before gesturing her head towards Tony's shirt guidingly. "Doctor. Make yourself at home." She says, not without irony given the way he tends to carry on at times.
    Finally, Natasha looks to Tony, her gentle even voice betraying a hint of incredulesness. "... It wasn't just Thor? You made toys of us?" A moment passes and she adds a slightly more worried. "*All* of us?"

Sif has posed:
Steve's about to shoot back some clever retort about his spangly ass when Hank arrives. He falls silent to watch the man and the contents of his arms as well as where they end up on the table. Ah-hah. When the Captain sees Hank look their way, he nods politely, not wishing to cause any further fluster in the meeting room already brimming with personalities.

The box slides down the table and Steve stops it with his palm. A soft laugh leaves him and he gives Janet a significant glance while his ears pink. "'s'true, nobody's choked on the real thing, but I'd feel terrible if somebody's toddler ended up in the E.R. because the thing's the size of a Nilla-Wafer." Still, he has this puckish little smile that twists up his nose, like he's not entirely certain he should feel this little bit of giddy rue about seeing the action figure.

"Also, Tony, 'm not dressing up as Uncle Sam at any of your rallies. Need that known right now," he notes firmly.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet flashes a smile at Natasha. Is she trying to be reassuring? Or is she blindly unaware of the flickering insecurity coming from the spy? It's hard to say, but at least she's trying to be civil. Maybe.

Which is quite unlike the status quo when Hank comes in. One can perceptibly feel the temperature of the room cooling by a few degrees-- anyone caught in the crossfire between The Look Janet flickers at Hank might be at risk of taking 10d6 cold damage. She clings to Steve's arm a bit more pointedly, and remains in that proximity with a hand resting on America's Abs when Steve momentarily disengages to examine the action figures.

Not that anyone's accused Janet of being petty, ever.

When the little action figure comes out, Janet /squeals/ like a teenager. "Aiee! Oh my god it's -adorable-!" she proclaims, and makes grabby hands for the model in Steve's fingers without asking permission. The boxed package is examined front and back, eyes scanning, and a delighted grin crosses her face. "It's a little Caaaaap~" she sings, and wiggles the model demonstratively at Steve. She holds it up in front of her face so he can look right at it, then peeks over the cardboard top at him with a brilliant grin. "I need one of these for my office desk. That way you can always keep me company, even when you're off doing work stuff," she tells Steve with giggling approval. "Tony, I have dibs on the first serial number in the line," she informs the industrialist.

"Wait, where's mine? I mean, me?" she inquires, and tries to rise the last-half inch not afforded by her designer heels to peek into the box.

Hank Pym has posed:
"What's stopping you from just gluing the shield to his arm?" Hank wonders of the toy choking hazard question. "Aside from it being zero fun, I guess." Hank wouldn't really know, he's very far from any semblance of someone that remembers being a child at all. Pragmatic solve to the problem of the object being too easily choked on.

Hank looks over other items on the table, and... then the bag makes an appearance. Hank observes the arrival of the bag, and the contents. And Tony eating it. All just in a steady stare of Hank's flinty light blue eyes.

"That is not a sandwich for humans," Hank comments, entirely deadpan. And then some amusement comes in: of a sort of private self-satisfied amusement. "Though I'm curious what it tastes like."

"And I do not need, nor want, a shirt." Looks like that 10d6 of cold damage has ruffled Hank up. He's clearly affected by Janet's onslaught of squealing and happiness, far more than Tony's pokes at him, and seems to have decided to be a grumpy cactus adjacent to Natasha. He is, however, keeping a lid on things so far. ...He must be a /far/ improved.

Tony Stark has posed:
"Good pronouns," Tony tells Nat with an encouraging thumbs up, "Try throwing in some more nouns and verbs." He reaches into another of the boxes, producing a shirt that bears the words 'BLACK WIDOW' but rather than an image of the woman itself, it shows a stylized image of her spidery namesake. He tosses it in Natasha's direction, "I figured spies don't like their faces plastered all over the place."

A furtive glance down at his own Hawkeye shirt, and he clears his throat: "Some exceptions made, of course."

"Dressing up as Captain America will be just fine," Stark tells Steve with a shake of his head, reaching in to produce a 'WASP' and 'CAPTAIN AMERICA' respectively - tossing the Wasp one to Cap, and the Cap one to the Wasp, "And believe me, I'm not planning to ask you to shill for me all that much. Even I can appreciate that Captain America has to at least look bipartisan."

"Speaking of the campaign," he continues, with a quick look around, "My federally-appointed minders have agreed that when I'm in the company of the Avengers they don't need to be looking after me. So, they're going to stay clear of the Mansion - though you might find them posting up outside."

Something like a mischievous grin crosses Tony's face when Janet asks her question, moving to reach under the table and produce another box. Unlike the others it isn't packed with the rest of them, instead he seems to have been keeping it separate. He slides it across the table to her, and it's immediately apparent why. The costume itself is all wrong in terms of color and design, the likeness is miles off, the hair style is out of date, and her name is written as 'Jaunet' like that's an actual name that people have.

The smile quickly fades at Hank's words, and Tony looks down at the bag. He pauses in his chewing for the moment, glances at the sandwich, and then shrugs. When he speaks, it's threw a mouthful of the stuff: "Tangy."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha catches the shirt and unfolds it quizically. Unseen behind the veil of black cotton, Natasha's face drops. "... No. Not especially." She says very flatly.
    It turns out they also don't like it when their old murderous code name from Russia gets plastered on merchandise that children might wear, which is somehow the first place her mind goes. There's a pile of thoughts underneath it.
    It's a pretty bad ass shirt, though.
    She folds it back up and just says, "It's nice." Without much expression.
    The sandwich does get a lingering look, though. She might have to call in SHIELD for another radiation reading. She'll owe them dinner, at this rate.

Sif has posed:
Even as Janet's dancing about like a child having opened the first Christmas present of the morning, Steve does gesture towards Hank's wondering. In the Captain's mind, glueing the little plastic shield to the arm makes perfect and safe sense. The t-shirt tossed to him emblazoned with his gal's name has Steve unfurling it before himself. He makes a thoughtful sound before leaning over to see how his own shirt looks. It appears cleanly printed, patriotically colored, and will fit Janet rather nicely.

"Mine seems a bit small," he notes half under his breath of the men's t-shirt printed with WASP. A glance up at Tony is more flat. "Probably make a better point for your campaign if I showed up civilian like I did before, Tony."

That grin on the genius-inventor's face doesn't bode well. Or does it? Steve looks down at the action figure offered at Janet's behest and looks over at Natasha with open surprise on his face.

"Well, it's just the first round of the design, 'm sure the team you hired can come up with something better, right? Right, Tony?" Oh, how Steve tries, even as he winces about the corners of his eyes at 'Jaunet'. Eye contact with Hank is studiously avoided.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet makes eye contact with Nat and mouths 'we'll figure it out'. A little heart is drawn in the air with her fingers and she points it at the redhead. Small consolation, but at least there's some solidarity from the socialite.

Steve protests the cut of his shirt, attracting Janet's focus again. "Nonsense, you're an American treasure," Janet reassures Steve. "If it runs a little small, that's fine. Feels like a good nylon blend. See? Stretchie," she informs him, and tugs the fabric between her fingers experimentally. "You'll look /great/. It'll really bring out your muscles," she says, simpering. Just a bit.

Then Tony slides over the 'Jaunet' action figure and the Wasp looks at it. It derails her train of thought (the dual process of flirting with Steve/antagonizing Hank) while she processes the 'akshun figgure'.

Green eyes go flat and lift from the toy to Tony's shit-eating grin, and her immaculate eyebrows settle into dangerous lines. The box is lifted with a disdainful expression. Examined front and back, then turned to the industrialist.

"Tony, what's this?" she inquires sweetly. Too sweetly. Saccharine would be a good word. Someone more versed in biology would like it to a sudden appearance of, say, a stinging insect. Or a poison dart frog innocently contemplating a leap into someone's bare hands.

Hank Pym has posed:
"If you begin to exhibit a maculopapular rash, particularly one with very distinct papules, let me know," Hank says simply, after a thoughtful and interested nod about the verdict of 'Tangy'. "Tangy. Interesting." Science is 'interesting'. "That's the high acid content." In case Tony was curious. Hank doesn't seem concerned, though.

The arrival of Janet's toy causes Hank to step to one side just /so/, as if he knew where the 'splash' zone was going to be of the overreaction, and he sits back to observe the show. "It's unusual to not be directed at /me/," Hank comments sideways to Natasha under his breath. He sounds like a mixed of satisfied and amused. Sorry Natasha, you got Hank's commentary, seeing as the others either ate his pet's sandwich or are affiliated directly with Janet!

Tony Stark has posed:
"The action figures a little different, too," Tony tells Natasha, still through a mouthful of biohazard, "Again, we stayed clear of the likeness. But when you give creatives a little poetic license, they tend to make sure they get enough to hang themselves with."

The next figure slid across the table, this time towards Natasha, also doesn't look like here. The costume is roughly the same, but the face and hairstyle are different - not necessarily bad, just not the same. It also has a sword, which Tony just sort of shrugs at. The real name section has also been carefully omitted from the box art.

"Be cool, be cool," Stark says to Janet with both palms raised flat before him, easily reading the Bret Easton Ellis vibe emanating from her, "It's just a joke. Here." He reaches into the box now, sliding another, different looking figure that looks much more like the Wasp everybody knows and loves with her name spelled correctly to boot.

"Jaunet was the design team's first go and I liked it too much not to keep it. That's the real thing, there. No real shrinking action, though. Unless Hank lends us some of his particles?" he adds, looking hopefully towards the good doctor. Though the mention of a rash causes his nose to curl and he makes a point of putting the sandwich down again.

He also makes a mental note to put many more posters on the front of the mobile lab in the backyard.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha sees Janet's gesture and smiles a little despite herself. Though that look wanders in the opposite direction with an 'ooohhh dear' look of raised eyebrows and slightly pursed lips as she averts her eyes for a moment. This might be all day.
    She regards Hank thoughtfully and says, "Is it? We hardly ever see it these days." very evenly. So it's not just a Thing that happens, like Hank might think.
    Natasha picks up the box with her action figure. "It's..." Natasha smirks a little bit, "... perfect, Tony. Appreciated." So it's a step up from the murder shirt. The revelation of the 'Jaunet' figure draws a thoughtful, "Ooohhhh, that's gonna be a collector's item, then. Right? Is that how that works over here?"


    It's nice that Natasha feels comfortable enough around you guys to expose gaps in her america knowledge/cover.

Sif has posed:
Uh oh. That tone from the Wasp. Steve has labeled that particular pitch of voice as 'the antifreeze voice', sweet and dangerous and to be avoided at all costs. He manages to still grimace at Hank's side commentary about the sandwich even as he's collecting up his t-shirt against himself. A reach gathers up the Captain American action figure's box as well.

The sigh of relief at the reveal of the //actual// proposed Wasp figurine is an obvious one. Tilting his head, Steve looks over the design and nods to himself. Janet gets a grin. "Not half bad, I think?" He then side-steps to look at Natasha's figurine at an angle. "That's not half-bad either. I like the anonymity in the design," he comments, giving the Widow too a little grin.

"But if these things're collectables now, dibs on the 'Jaunet' one, because that's a one-time only kind of deal." Tony gets a point off the Captain America box and a lift of eyebrows that means business: Captain Rogers has dibs on that absolutely atrocious design.

"In the meantime, 'm gonna go see how many times I can ricochet this little shield with the action-throwing arm," comments the super-soldier as he makes his way to the door, trying not to beam.

Is Steve actually going to do this?

...odds are good.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Mollified! Janet admires the action figure with a critical eye; finding no fault worth protesting, she nods firmly and hugs it to her chest. "If the /Jaunet/ figure sees a single shelf-- if I find one on eBay-- you and me, Stark," Janet tells Tony with a grim tone.

Steve turns to scoot off, and Janet makes a protesting noise. "Hey! That's mine!" she says, raising her voice as he absconds with the action figurine. "You better not break that! I'm not settling for #0002 on my work desk!"

Janet scoops up her armfuls of swag and scurries in Steve's wake, trying to catch up to the supersoldier's quick departure.

Hank Pym has posed:
"My particles being involved /might/ alter your price point for sale," Hank observes dryly, still watching Tony with the sandwich. He's too interested in watching, perhaps, for comfort.

Hank gives Natasha a curious little side-look. He's smart enough, absolutely, to catch her meaning. He does't retort, he seems to accept that with reasonable grace. At least for now.

"When you're done with the toys, Tony, let me know; we need to talk Avenger equipment," Hank says. That's Hank-talk for 'Science-Bro-meeting-yes?': not necessarily a bad thing, as those talks are often interesting challenges for the big brain boys - and a goodbye for the moment. He scans the room and heads to the opposite door. He's not interested in following the Steve-Janet pair today. Grump grump.

Tony Stark has posed:
"We can talk," Tony promises, pointing at Hank, "But you need to fix this pending rash! And you need to sign an agreement. If you're back Avenging, I want Giant-Man or Ant-Man or Varying-Size-Man merch on the shelves. You're the most prominent Avenger since everyone, you know, looks at you first. Because you're big. Sometimes."

As Steve and Janet depart, followed by Hank out the other door, Tony just watches them go. He absent-mindedly scratches at his stomach through the t-shirt he wears, glancing over towards Natasha and the little merchandise bundle she's gathered from the meeting.

"I'm glad you like them," he tells her, "Market testing said there are a lot of people out there who idolize you. That's gonna be one of our hottest items."

He nods at the figure, smiling for a moment before the scratching through his shirt becomes more intense. The smile fades, replaced by a frown. He glances towards Natasha, offers a 'sorry' and then takes off at a rather urgent walking pace through the door Hank left through.

"PYM!"