10387/Distractions and Trips

Distractions and Trips
Date of Scene:	10 December 2019
Location:	Second Floor, Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	Steve finds a Tony, and they chat about distractions.
Cast of Characters:	Iron Man, Captain America

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Iron Man has posed:
There's an unusual hallway occupant. Not unusual in that it's Tony - Tony's around the mansion a decent amount - it's unusual in position. He is seated next to one of the empty room doors with his back against the wall, one hand lifted to press two fingers firmly into either side of his nose bridge next to his eyes.

This is, in fact, a posture that's been taken before, in times of extremes: deep thought (in which he is often standing), or deep inebriation (of which seated).

That Tony is seated makes the direction fairly obvious. He's dressed very casually, likely from lab work: black jeans, sneakers, an unzipped sporty athletic jacket with neon orange stripes and silver color blocks over one of his comfy band t-shirts.

Captain America has posed:
"Yes, it's next Tuesday -- three in the afternoon, right. Same place as last year?" Patience slightly strained laces Steve's voice that procedes him up the main staircase of the mansion. He's got a plastic grocery bag in one hand and his phone to ear in the other. Boots tap out a solid tattoo on the way up; jeans and a long-sleeved thermal shirt beneath his motorcycle jacket proved him out on a quick errand, more than likely to refill the small fridge kept in his room. It's the little staples, like protein powder for shakes, some milk, and some random assortment of beers in case of sudden, unexpected visitors.

Looking at you, Wade.

"Last time I spoke with Lofgren about security -- oh, it's Gains this year. Alright, thank you, Francesca, I'll..." Spotting the figure in the hallway, the Captain's voice fades out as his walk becomes briefly uncertain.

Uh oh.

"I'll give you a call back tomorrow morning." A fake little laugh. "Yes, Avengers business, sorry to have to cut this short. Sure, eight in the morning -- yes, at this nunber. You have a good night too."

Sliding the call ended, he slips the phone into his pocket and walks over. Items in the plastic bag and the bag itself rustle as he sets it down and then takes one knee at an angle to the genius-inventor. "C'mon, Tony, let's talk in my room." His suggestion is gentle but firm.

Iron Man has posed:
Tony didn't ignore the arrival, he opened his eyes a little bit, though he didn't move otherwise, at Steve's chatty conversation that's being had in the hallway. When Steve comes over fully, though, Tony drops both hands to his lap, weaving his fingers, and extends one leg out, then the other, to cross at the ankle. His posture turns rapidly into one of comfort and intention: as if he fully chose to seat himself right there in the hallway. Was it on purpose? His body language says it was.

"Something private on your mind?" Tony asks, with a lift of eyebrow. There's a lot of high functionality happening now: either he's not extremely drunk, or he's masking it very admirably. "You may need to bribe me, I'm pretty comfortable here."

Captain America has posed:
Inevitably, one wheat-gold brow arcs up dubiously.

"You wanna have a conversation about your state out here in the hallway right now?" Steve does take a moment to turn in place, his palm rested on his bent knee, to look back towards the staircase and then beyond into the hallway leading to the other wing of bedrooms.

"Not everyone's home, but anyone is gonna ask you what you're doing here sitting in the hallway," he continues as he looks back to Tony. "'nd frankly, Tony, I can smell it on you -- 'nd it's not the super-senses," he clarifies quietly.

Iron Man has posed:
"You could be interrupting a thought process which could lead to world peace," Tony informs Steve. He leaves his fingers woven, but moves both his thumbs and shoulders in a smooth little shrug. Such things, of course, are not beyond Tony Stark's reckoning.

"No hallway is safe from sudden inspiration," Tony adds serenely. A little robot has trundled out, scouring for lint, and has to adjust path around the two of them. Tony watches it for a long moment, but then drops his hands to use them to leverage up, partially using the wall. "I did have some. But I am not drunk," Tony informs Steve. "Although solving world hunger might take a few extra minutes right now," he continues. Still, he has gotten up, and shot a semi-challenging look at Steve. "And, /fine/, I am actually thinking of a new design for my boot array removal," he shares, tone amused and self-satisfied.

Captain America has posed:
When Tony rises, so does Steve at a matching speed. He briefly stoops once more to gather up the little grocery bag and then turns to continue walking to his room.

"It'll be more comfortable considering over world hunger 'nd your boot array removal in one of the chairs," he notes wryly. The bedroom door opens after recognizing his thumbprint and he leaves it open after entering. On the small table tucked near to the fridge, the plastic bag is set. Steve then sits and goes about unlacing his boots, glancing up towards Tony again.

"What conclusions have you come to so far?"

Iron Man has posed:
"That I am probably not going to be given a proper bribe tonight," Tony snarks evenly and serenely, as if he were quite put-upon but was being the bigger man about it all. He stops the door from closing with a palm, entering Steve's room.

The room is interesting, distracting; he can't remember the last time he was inside. He looks around at the various furnishings, wanders towards the desk to attempt to tip a finger into the cover of a sketchbook. He's a little bit more casually nosy than he would have been if he hadn't had some drinks in him.

"I expect you're going to offer me water, so we can go ahead and start with that," Tony adds perceptively, lifting a hand in a 'yadda yadda' motion, as if to leap ahead to later in the discussion.

Captain America has posed:
"You're a quick learn," the Captain drily notes in regards to the water as he slips his other boot off. First, these are brought back over to the small mat by the door. He then pads over to the fridge before grabbing up what appears to be a sparkling water, some fruit flavor by the brightly-colored label. This is placed on the desk beside Tony and the sketch book.

It's an older book by the gentle wearing at its cover's corners and the indent here and there along the metal spiraled backing. Its pages, at a glance with the cover closed, are more weathered and spotted here and there with light stains; water and coffee both show.

"What's really on your mind, Tony?" Steve lifts up a hand, the other rested on his waist. He's shucked his coat over one of the table-chairs given the temperature of the room, leaving him in the long-sleeved thermal, casual in his own regard. "'nd don't gimme anything about technology because I know -- I know," he repeats more gently, " -- that your brain works like that. But what else is rattling around in there?"

Iron Man has posed:
"The quickest. I'm Tony Stark," Tony says unnecessarily. He's picked up the sketchbook since he wasn't yelled at about it, and slides to sit in the desk chair, looking through it a little bit. Tony, even clearly with multiple drinks in him. He isn't drunk off his ass by any means: though the reality may be that Steve is the very real reason that he hasn't continued to head to wherever he had been going in order to drink to that state.

"What else? Hmmm. Hell, why not, maybe you have input. I'm stumped on Pepper's gift for Christmas," Tony says. "Normally she buys herself something from me. I don't think that's going to fly this year. She'll probably do it anyway, which will then gain her /two/ total things from me, which I hardly see as a problem."

Tony flips through the sketches as he chatters. "Met a bunch of her old friends at a Friendsgiving at her place. Went great, of course; everyone loves me. So, not going to mess it up yet. At least, not on purpose."

Captain America has posed:
"Could've fooled me," the blond mutters good-naturedly to himself as he returns to the fridge to put away the groceries. Away goes the milk and the beers, the last with a surreptitious glance over at Tony, hoping in the sketchbook to provide distraction.

Within the sketchbook are aged charcoal and pencil drawings. A page or two is missing, indicative of possibly either cherished or more private material, but there is a span of topics at hand: landscapes and cityspaces within New York itself, faces of neighbors long-dead -- it shifts then to places in Europe, fields and then a vertical window's-view of the Eiffel Tower in France -- nonsensical other images show here and there in silhouettes, cartoons of animals or humans or both, and at the end, some blank pages either left alone out of respect or memory. It must have existed since World War II itself.

Returning to the table, Steve pulls out one of the chairs and brings it over to the desk. He seats it like a horse, back of the chair to rest his folded forearms upon, and patiently listens to what else is on Tony's mind.

A hum from him, thoughtful. "What do you get someone who has money or access to it?" It seems a semi-rhetorical question as he shrugs. "An experience. Money can't buy something like...time spent away from the buzz of the city. Take her someplace she's never been. Or take her to someplace she likes more'n anything else. Can't mess it up that way," he opines.

Iron Man has posed:
"Yeah. Trips are always a hit," Tony agrees, snapping his fingers, and flipping the sketchbook closed. He isn't rough with the sketchbook at all, he's good at handling delicate objects: but there's a self-assured way he does things that makes it FEEL too casual or that he might just drop it on the floor. He doesn't, he puts it down on the desk with simple ease, and changes to the sparkling water. If he noticed Steve didn't hand him the things directly he doesn't remark on it. Mostly he didn't notice that his friend knew full well to avoid the odd peeve.

In reward, Tony's just pleasant, and the snark doesn't intensify to nuclear levels. "She likes private, relaxed trips, I think. Less of the zip-line through the trees type of thing," Tony says, as if that were a category of trip in his mind. "Mmmhhh. I'll think about it. Good call on the trips, though. That work on Janet?" Tony asks, curious.

Captain America has posed:
Admittedly, the Captain does watch how the sketchbook is handled. He wouldn't call it a piece of history to anyone's face, but it is a piece of his own holding more than a few hours of precious spare time. A tiny sigh of relief leaves him at its placement back on the desk before his regard slips back to Tony.

"Works well enough. We haven't done anything like...zip-lines, but she's wanted to go spend some time in southern California for a while -- might do that after the holidays close out. She's also..." Tilting his head left and right, Steve muses over how to explain; his eyes wander elsewhere in the room without really taking anything in. "Janet's big on the little things too, even if she doesn't seem like it. I think...maybe she's not used to paying attention to 'em with how busy she is. For example, 'm thinking about taking her ice skating at Rockefeller Center 'nd then hot cocoa afterwards. Simple stuff. I can do a grand gesture for New Year's Eve, I figure." Tony is given a small smile. "'nd no, not anything dramatic. No name in fireworks or anything like that."

Iron Man has posed:
"I've noticed Pepper likes it without a lot of people around. That privacy thing," Tony shrugs. He pats his hands on his knees, squinting, and drinking his water. He manages not to make a totally repelled expression when it tastes... like it tastes. He bears with it valiantly, like he's slaying a dragon of drinks.

"But that's a decent track. Get a private cabin, maybe ski. Could bring you two with us, if you like. I think that's not 'a lot of people,'" Tony chuckles. "I think it's just the Vegas trips she can't really stand. Which is terrible, those are the best." With a deep sigh, Tony leans back in the chair, fighting with his drink-dragon for another swig.

Captain America has posed:
If there's any amusement to be found with how Tony valiantly struggles with the sparkling water, it remains well-hidden. His friend simply smiles again to himself, the expression subdued in the long run.

Beneath him, the chair creaks as Steve shifts in place, resettling his feet. His forearms remain folded across the chair's back yet. "Offer first to Pepper about going just you 'nd her. If she seems open to the idea, consider adding us into the affair -- after the holidays in our case," the Captain reminds Tony of the timeline he's apparently going to stick to. "Make it one without any distractions."

By the prompting lift of eyebrows, the 'distractions' include alcohol.

Iron Man has posed:
"Oh, entirely after the holidays. I have three holiday parties in the works this year," Tony says, suddenly switching tack. "And they will be loaded with beautiful distractions." A grin flashes, quick like a firework.

"I never miss throwing a New Year's party. The ones leading up to it, well. That's just because I //can//." Tony looks at his water, considers it, but then gets to his feet, stretching. "Anyway, I want to finish that boot redesign. See you 'round, Steve," Tony bids, heading towards the door. He's not swaying, he's doing all right. If he makes it to the lab and his project, he'll /be/ all right, too. The liquor doesn't usually flow while a project does.

It's one passion or a filler for passion.