#venomolic

we understand how it is, we’ll go ahead and take care of that drop for you. best of luck!

flash thompson has been dropped!

Gwen caught herself staring at the man. She knew in some universes there were Tony Starks that could build him anew, or Reed Richards that could create an entire new body from a shred of skin, but this was no land of heroes. This was a land of ice and rebirth. Maybe there was someone out there to help him, but this wasn’t her friend to help. She figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask the man about his story. She wasn’t sure which world he could be from, but Earthlings seemed to always have a few wars, so she could at least guess.

“Did you serve? Sorry... My dad’s a police detective back home, so I tend to hear a lot of people in your position.” She offers a hand, covered by a winter glove. “I’m Gwen Stacy, what can I do for you?”

HOW THOUGHTFUL. | accepting

    Tony’s never felt much at liberty to talk about it--what with being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and even without that he wouldn’t be able to distance himself from the irony--but if anyone’s believed he’s ever actually enjoyed those tennis matches with Musk and megarich dinner banquets for the sake of having his ass sit beside asses of the other megarich, then they’re believing in the con.

    Good God, he hates the bastards.

    If there was ever something Tony would thank Howard for, it’s for drilling into him that wealth for the sake of wealth is worthless. It either means something, or it wastes away in a bank. What it meant for Stark Industries was a whole lot of weapon cargo and the promise that they wouldn’t hurt the innocent (maybe the most easily broken promise in the history of the military) and what it means now for Stark Resilient are phones, cars, computers and of course, Iron Man.

    But there’s the rub, right? Tony can rename his company, diversify its offerings, finally cut out the military contracts for good, but that doesn’t erase what’s already done. Only way out is through. And yet they still descend on him like a gaggle of harpies--”Tony Stark! Where’s your Rolls-Royce? Tony Stark! Why haven’t you gone golfing? Tony Stark! I got a nose-job so you’d sleep with me!”--and for the sake of the former, he has to grin and bear the latter.

    Even before Afghanistan, Tony didn’t enjoy the lap of luxury. Oh, sure, he put on a real horse and pony show of it, but he didn’t have a choice. He had to live up to being a Stark.

CHARACTER SOLIDIFYING. | accepting

    W-e-e-e-ll...

    Let’s just say that the matter of his siblings is an awfully dense can of worms indeed.

    As far as brothers go, there were three: Balder (ugh), Tyr (hmph), and Thor... who was Thor. The former two not important compared to the latter by an order of magnitude (Balder not even aware he was a son of Odin until after he had experienced death by mistletoe), and what with their sister being long lost as a prisoner of Heven, we’re left with Thor and Loki as the preeminent crown princes of Asgard.

    They could not be more different.

    It was always going to be that way, even in their happiest memories--Thor, headstrong as a bull; Loki, clever as a fox, and for at least a few hundred years, their differences complimented one another. Really, they were inseparable. There was no argument that didn’t end without them becoming closer together.

   And then one did.

   Loki doesn’t remember what it was about. He doubts Thor does either. Specificity in retelling is a rarity with the gods--it’s the ultimate end result that matters for them and for the rest of us. A seemingly unbreakable bond was now buckling under its own weight. Complimentary differences became points of unending contention. Thor was honest. Loki was a liar. It’s a surprise to no-one for which Asgard chose.

    Despite everything, the anger and the envy and the evil and the lying, they still love each other. It’s unknown if their relationship will ever go back to what it was in antiquity. In earnest, neither of them seem to be trying one way or the other. They’ve accepted it for what it is, maybe Loki most of all. And if there is one thing he does truly hate about Thor...

Welcome to Eidolon, traveler. Wishes have brought you far, and we know they will only bring you further.

You will find your residence in Bunkhouse #8.

You find your wheelchair beside you... however, it appears to have been upgraded in order to be used in the snow with ease. There is also a backpack, with your medicine and a strange airtight container... ( Once you look, you will find that your friend cannot do much else than talk with you. )

Search, seek, persist. Take heart in your heart.