Owner Pose
James Barnes It's not early morning; rather, it's mid-afternoon. But that hasn't stopped Bucky Barnes from wanting some coffee. So here he is, in the middle of the Avengers Manor kitchen, staring at the French press coffee maker.

He's staring at it, because it's one of many merchandising items that have been comped to the manor and its residence.

He's staring at it, because it has a very cartoony version of Steve's face on it.

Bucky tilts his head back and lets out a long-suffering sigh, pack of coffee beans in his hand. It wouldn't be so bad if they weren't the STARK blend. It's not that the blend is bad.

He's just hesitant to pour Tony into Steve so he can make coffee.
Wanda Maximoff Wanda's been reading, curled up in her room with a thick tome full of information about the inequities of intergenerational housing. Heavy reading that's nonetheless important in a city like this where lots of people have precious little by way of secure shelter or assurances Superman won't bash through the wall. Important stuff to know there, isn't it?

Reading like that takes something out of a person. It beckons them to find something suitable to eat, notably the prospects of an energy-dense snack. On that front, Wanda pads barefoot through the mansion to the kitchen. She seeks a jar of Manuka honey, the good stuff, premium gold for a premium girl. If Pietro hasn't polished it off, then she has something to feast on.

Except her boyfriend is currently staring at Cap Coffee, and that might be mischief waiting to happen. She hangs on tenterhooks behind Bucky, biting her lip to see his reaction.

"I never much like Stark Industries." Little thing about, oh, those weapons being used on her dad, her people, various atrocities that the twins ended up in. "That coffee machine may spy on us. What do you think?"
James Barnes "Coffee's Stark, machine is..." Bucky leans in. "Oh, no,. also Stark Industries," he admits, even though it's Steve's face on it. "Does Tony not know the value of subsidiary companies? Does his one company just do _everything_?" Bucky frowns. Eventually he just pours the coffee into the coffee maker and then pour water into it, letting it steep.

He takes the time to turn around, slide an arm around Wanda, and bring her in closer. "Hello."
Wanda Maximoff "Billionaires, da? They market themselves. Why did Steve agree? I thought laws said they cannot sell your face without your approval," Wanda says. She circles around the soldier and reaches for the cabinet. The door opened gives a glimpse of various treats and spreads inside, but no honey. Time then to dig while Bucky wraps his arm around her. "Who bought three curry sauces? That is not good for Bruce's digestion when..."

No, don't visualise. She goes on tiptoe to dig past peanut butter, almond butter, basil spaghetti cause, and a jar of old pesto. It's got to be in here. "Yes, he might do everything. Are there Stark high chairs? Stark lawnmowers? What would he avoid... Stark Cosmetics? Not cologne, lipstick. Eyeshadow. You could sell that better than him." Right, Winter Soldier line of eyeshadow and mascara. It bleeds without you trying. 'Dial D for Death' eyeliner. 'Oops, I Killed It Again' red, vampy nail lacquer. Stop thinking about this, Wanda.
James Barnes Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. "It's probably legal under some sort of parody law, because it's a cartoon, or he convinced Steve a percentage of the proceeds would go to some charity or another that Steve likes." Steve is very intelligent; but sometimes a little bit gullible. He does wear the flag like three times over.

Bucky kisses Wanda's cheek and snorts. "I'm sure he makes whatever sells, at this point. Especially since he supposedly cut back on making WMDs." Supposedly. Allegedly. "Selling them, I should say. He still _makes_ them." After all, what are those suits if not that.

He keeps his hand on her hip smiling at her. "Do you want some coffee or should I leave you alone with your ruminations about verdant bowel movements?"
Wanda Maximoff "Is he considered a celebrity?" Wanda shakes her head at the sight of Steve's likeness on the coffee. "Cappuccino America? It has been done somewhere, I bet." The very thought brings out a face; she doesn't like it more than Bucky does. "We can drink something else."

Taking the coffee from him, she turns it around so the front of the package faces a roll of paper towels. White, absorbent, happy paper towels, cleaning up crime or spills. "Did you see the honey? I don't care for coffee this late. Tea would have been nice. Maybe I will have to make that ginger passionfruit iced tea. If any is left."

She swivels in a sharp turn that has airs of a dance step to it, arm held out for Bucky until she has her footing just right. "Verdant? Oh stop. I was worried about the affordability of co-ops and the legal problems with rent caps."
Pietro Maximoff Blurring through the compound, is Pietro. He'd been off and on about - usually taking up patrols or relaying information. More often than not, he was in New York. Today though, his feet carried him here. Zipping through the buildings, he finds himself drawn towards the kitchen. Whether it is Wanda, or food, he finds himself coming to a rest in the well-stocked room.

There's a pause as he catches the tail-end of his sister's dance-esque movement. "It is a good to see you happy today, Wanda." He offers with a wry grin. Bucky gets a look. A definite big brother look. Yep.
James Barnes Bucky's hand is there waiting when Wanda reaches out for him. "I'm just saying. I feel like if Bruce wakes up too groggy and goes to the bathroom he probably wonders how much asparagus he had for dinner until everything clicks again." He's having fun with it. Pietro's blurring arrival doesn't get much of a reaction from the super-soldier, other than a miniscule rise of his neck hairs and a microexpressive tautening of his core muscles. But this isn't because it's Pietro--or the look the speedster gives him--but more because any change in a situation _that_ quick makes someone with Bucky's history, experience, and skillset pay attention. Even if it's subtle.

"Pete." Does Pietro like being called Pete? Let's find out.
Janet van Dyne Janet seems to have caught the gist of the conversation before she breezes into the kitchen. "Do you guys seriously not understand how we pay for this place?" she inquires of Wanda and Bucky. "If it wasn't for merchandising fees we'd have to pump cash directly into the expense account." Janet's in gym clothes; knee-length athletic shorts and a midriff-baring top that matches her daffodil-colored athletic sneakers. "We sell the merchandise to a subsidiary business so we don't lose our non-profit status as a relief group. Or our lobbying and legal team on the 501(c)(4) side," she says, matter of factly. "The residuals are allocated based on your stock investment in the subsidiary. I think the Wasp stuff nets about a million a year," she says, matter-of-factly.

Janet peers into the coffee machine and sniffs the hopper. She reaches for a bag of coffee beans and a hand grinder, shakes them into the grinder, and hands the manually-operated grinder to Pietro.

"Medium-fine. Be a dear?" she says, and beams a smile at the speedster.
Wanda Maximoff The blurry zoom might not be immediately visible as Pietro until he stops, but the speedster is definitely known to all and sundry as their pale lightning. If the radio arbitrarily flips over to Greased Lightning or whatever flavour of Jarv-friday that Tony made opts to play it, totally coincidental. His red twin breaks into a bright smile when she is two steps into completing another mid-kitchen twirl with Bucky. "I knew you would turn up sooner or later. Why wouldn't that make me happy? All the good things in the city, here in this room. Except my Manuka honey."

She glances pointedly back at her taller, brighter self. "Did you eat it?" He might have. He might have charmed a hive of bees to declare war on wasps somewhere. Her expression isn't too tight, admitting no anger, only curiosity. Shuffle step, and turn, and she almost can reach the fridge. Almost, her fingers just about there to the handle if she dips. "Want anything from here? I am hoping for something to drink." Considering Bucky is an excellent counterweight, the danger of falling over unless he lets go is minimal.

She looks back at Janet, and then to Bucky, and shrugs lightly. "<<It's all Greek to me.>>" An easy admission in German, which makes it sound that much more amusing.
Pietro Maximoff Were he a reality-bending mutant, Bucky might have to dodge knives from Pietro's eyes. Thankfully, he does not! "Pietro." He responds, a bit icily. There's that famous Quicksilver charm! A look to Wanda, the man softening a bit. Yes, the music is noted - a shake of his head in response. "At least it is not the Sonic the Hedgehog soundtrack." He says, after a moment. "And no, I did not eat the honey. I've been sampling foods down by the shore, in Genosha, and in Italy." The man explains, even as he takes the grinder from Janet.

A look then, to the fiscally-minded Wasp. "You know they make machines for this, yes?" He says. His hands blur, and the grinder is handed back - the scent of fresh ground coffee all but filling the kitchen. "I thought I'd check in to see how everyone was faring - or if there were any missions that needed attention?"
James Barnes Bucky just seems amused at the correction...s. He smiles at Janet and shrugs. "I've never been very good with money. Steve did my dad's taxes back in the day." Is this true? Or is it just Bucky trying to make everyone picture skinny-weenie Steve Rogers hunched over a big desk with a pair of spectacles, crunching numbers on one of those old calculators with the paper rolls?

No one shall ever know.

He pushes down on his French press because he already mixed the water and coffee and he isn't nearly as picky as _anyone_ else in this room, and holds it down for a few seconds, before he pours it into his... ah yes, WAKANDA mug. "Kind of surprised T'Challa's okay with this one, honestly," he murmurs, shrugging.
Janet van Dyne Janet shrugs one shoulder at Pietro. "Yeah, but everything tastes better with that little extra touch," she tells him, and flashes another beaming smile. It's loaded into the hopper for the espresso machine, and Janet touches the 'cappucino' button.

"I've at least got Steven on some level of fiscal stability finally," Janet tells the kitchen. She levers her hips up onto a counter and crosses her legs at the knee, one hand propping her balance up on the granite countertop. "We've got a whole financial assistance service, y'know," she reminds the others. "I hope you're not all just hiding money under the mattress. I know some really talented hedge fund managers," she offers. "If you can kick a million or two over to the financial managers you can see some pretty rapid ROI. Real estate's always a good bet," she adds.
Wanda Maximoff Like father, like son. Or close enough to count. Wanda lights up, though, at a particular phrase. "Italian food? Did you have it directly from Italy or somewhere local?" If she's fishing for invaluable information from her brother, then she at least has the mercy not to conceal that much from him. "Have you heard about the ravioli pasta they do under a beef Bourguignon sauce? Simple but incredible." Hungry might be on the mind, the smell of coffee in the air and a missing jar of honey to worry about. Danger zone! She still laughs bright and warmly golden, fingers dabbling in the air as she gets the door of the fridge open.

"Oh, there's the ginger and passion fruit tea." She gets the bottle out and prepares to find a glass to pour out the honeyed liquid in.

A few flickers of pulp land into the golden syrup, so adding a lot of hot water will make everything ambrosial. She's committed to the process, and nodding to Bucky. "He is a man of many surprises isn't he?"

She's busy back with using a spoon to mix things up. "I survive. That is enough."
Pietro Maximoff Soon enough, Pietro is looking for a mug of his own. If he's going to grind the beans, he might as well enjoy the fruits of his labor. Of course, he'd happened to select the mug bearing his likeness - easy to sort when you move in a flash. "True enough, Janet." He comments, at least at the comment of how things taste better with a personal touch.

Finding a place to lean against the counter, Pietro thinks. "I went to Rome to celebrate a friend's birthday. It was a nice trip, though I had to run around a storm in the middle of the ocean." A look to Bucky, shaking his head. "I cannot envision that, though. Captain America fussing over taxes."
James Barnes "He's always been a bit of a grandpa," Bucky tells Pietro with a shrug.

When Wanda gets a phone call she _must_ take, he gives her a quick smile and then takes a few long gulps of his very strong, very unadulterated black coffee. He doesn't seem to mind. "I'll see about diversifying my portfolio," he tells Janet, with a smile that implies he may or may not have absolutely zero idea what that term means.

Then again, Bucky is a spy. He probably knows a lot about a lot of things no one would expect him to that he doesn't even think about until it becomes mission-centric.
Janet van Dyne The espresso machine churns and froths and pours Janet a neat cappucino. She rests one elbow on her knee and carefully sips from the broad cup in her free hand. "It's not like we're gonna be doing this superhero thing forever," she reminds the two gentlemen. The coffee is waved vaguely in Wanda's direction as a farewell as the redhead takes her leave. "I mean, at some point I'm gonna have the reins to Nadia. Way, -way- down the road," she clarifies. "But the percentages I get off the merch sales are pretty negligible, it's barely seven figures. I don't think I could survive on less than fifty million a year," she says with total sincerity.

"So y'know, same goes for you guys. Set some money aside, invest a little, save a little, spend a little." Janet slurps more coffee down and shifts on the counter. "'nyway, Pietro--" she says it with a theatrical trill-- "who's the friend in Italy? A friend, or a--" her eyebrows twitch expressively-- "a *friend*?" she adds with deliberate emphasis.
Pietro Maximoff The speedster mms, waiting on his turn for the coffee. "Diversify. I think we have royal accountants for all that." He says, with a shrug. "I tend to keep my nose out of their work, lest I get buried in numbers and figures." Pietro admits. There's a quick wave as Wanda departs. "Always on the run, that one." HAH! Coming from him, that's rich!

"Do they even have merchandise for me? Aside from this mug?" He smirks, shrugging to Janet. "It was with a friend." Nope. He's not falling for that trap.
James Barnes Bucky shrugs and smiles at them. "I think cost of living probably differs a lot." He can't imagine needing 50 million dollars a year. Then again, considering when he comes from and how his memories might affect his perceptions of money. Inflation over eighty years is hard to adjust for.

"I have to go pick up some books," he says, finishing his coffee and rinsing his mug. "Nice seeing you both," he says, starting for the door.