#starkageddon

*Bruce leans back from a long while staring through the microscope, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with the back of his palm. Without looking he reaches out to grab his mug, and attempts to take a sip before realizing it's empty.*

*People are often thudded unceremoniously onto one of Doc Banner's tables, the saloon nearby is popular and arguments are frequent, and he wonders at what point he will stop flinching at the sudden arrivals.*

*he looks down at the newest arrival, adjusting his small wire rimmed glasses; the young man's not local, and neither is the woman with him. He nods to the woman.*

*There is a rustling in the doorway of Tony's workshop, a large brightly colored poster of Iron Man and Hulk with the phrase "Victory through Science!" printed across in bold letters, waving back and forth. Bruce's head pops up behind the poster a second later, with an expression approaching D:.*

*This particular lab is large, with reinforced walls, and only equipment essential to this procedure. If successful, the place won't be too small for Hulk to stand around in. If not...medical equipment is at the ready.*

*Bruce looks it all over, nodding a little as he bites his lip*

*Logan's late to the party, but when the party's a rescue-mission into a creepy-weird dimension filled with demon spiders, well, late's the best thing you can be*

*Kitted up, he's standing half in the portal and fiddling awkwardly with his phone. Natasha said to call Banner, but he's not answering - so he figures his next best bet would be Stark*

*In the lab, Bruce stares thoughtfully at the container full of--for lack of a better term--alien goo, what they had found in the box instead of the corpse of the Latverian farmer.*

*rubs his face, letting out a little sigh*

*taking a break from staring at his computer screen, Peter sits in the intern office, leaning back in his chair.  His eyes are on the ceiling and he, with great focus, is tossing a pencil up and catching it as it falls back down.

His aim is to not get it to hit the ceiling.

*Pepper sits at her desk, tapping her pen on the desk as she listens on the phone*

Mmhmm--no, that's next week--uh huh--Wednesday. Yes--yes.