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Tony Stark Normally, when one gets a text message from a blocked number in today's day and age with sold information and things like health insurance required to sell your soul and phone number, you ignore it. 'Hey, your appointment is today' is odd.

Like a normal person, that first message probably gets ignored.

It's not until the second that it becomes clear: this is no hoax.
It helps that the second message's number simply headers <TONY STARK> and gives an address.
And a floor.
Spider-Man knows the address, as only people of an altered mindstate would possibly forget one of the most recently famous buildings in New York: Avengers Tower.

The instructions add 'don't use the front door', and a winkyface Iron Man helmet emoji.

When he arrives - clearly, either climbing up the building or swinging up, the regular zone defenses that he'd be proximally aware of categorically ignore him, and a door opens up on the balcony allowing entrance. Inside the foyer is a 'tactically geek chic' area, appointed in brushed metal and wood and leather fit for entertaining guests or flopping into a mission just past the security checkpoint. A kitchenette in tile is off to the side, and a pot of coffee brews quietly. Nobody appears to be in the room, though the elevator at the far end of the room is active.

There's stairs down to further lounge areas, a full bar, and other amenities.

The outside sense that he's being watched and then Pointedly Ignored redoubles once Spider-Man steps inside: there's a brooding, intense feeling of being watched from all around, prodded with sensors and diagnostics, and judged, but without the tangible feeling of a source.

It's probably nothing.
Spider-Man Spider-Man @NYCWallCrawler - 4m
you would think blocked numbers would know how to finish the scam

Spider-Man @NYCWallCrawler - 4m
i mean you have one job weird bot-building guy, you make messages

Spider-Man !NYCWallCrawler - 3m
feels like a waste if you dont finish the job

Spider-Man @NYCWallCrawler - 2m
wait

Spider-Man @NYCWallCrawler - 2m
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Spider-Man @NYCWallCrawler - 2m
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

    Spider-Man tries to determine what's a very professional way to climb a building. Acrobatically? That might seem rushed. Slowly? That might seem unskilled. Walking on his feet? That would strain his calf muscles, going up a building that high! Eventually he settles on a sort of graceful hike of sorts. He finds a zone defense measure to fistbump on his way in after he flips over the balcony.

    "Mister Stark?" He calls out. "Hello?" He wanders in, checking the coffee like a forensic investigator. "Huh. Went to the bathroom, maybe." He examines the geek-chic aesthetic. "Nah, coffee spontaneously condenses in places like this." He's probably gonna have some, he's been pretty overworked for a while. He wanders a bit. The weird mess of senses flickers on and off every so often with that sense of being watched. his goggles jitter wide as he instinctively tries to take in as much information as he can when that happens, looking around. Huh.

    He checks all about, and where most would take a seat after viewing each room once, Spider-Man seems just fascinated by the idea of being around Avengers Tower. He treats even this small space as something like a museum of how Avengers might live when they're at the tower, and seems keenly interested in every detail. He'll settle down and take a seat eventually, surely. Mask stays on, though. He hasn't 100% processed the secret identity thing when it comes to Tony, given he knows his phone stuff /in detail/ now instead of just NFC, though he reconciled chunks of it on the way over. Gotta make sure to chat about the May issue at least...
Tony Stark A few quiet moments pass after Spider-Man begins asking after Tony Stark - and his opportunity to reverently check out the Avengers' shared digs - that a cool British voice addresses him. "Mister Spider-Man, would you like some toast? Perhaps a scone? You may avail yourself to coffee while you wait - Mister Stark will be with you shortly."

From a small Nest Thermostat-like button (or HAL-like oculus) above the kitchen, JARVIS' voice addresses the hoodied hero, and the toaster oven dings open with the offered treats.

Across the kitchenette, over the coffee pot, a cabinet opens with identical red cups set upside down for Spider-Man to avail himself, in a strangely odd 'warm welcome'.

It does mean he'd have to pull up his mask, though, which may be awkward, but there doesn't seem to be a huge pressure to do so...?

Once the deep, awful worry about if turning down the foremost AI Personage's toast and coffee would make -- OR BREAK -- the meeting, Tony Stark and Mariah Hill arrive in the elevator with a soft 'ding!'.

"--So as I was saying, I think we need to expand our local disaster relief, and if that means I have to make a dedicated ATC algorithm to make it happen, I'll buy out the contracts myself."
"That won't be necessary, Stark. The Secretary of Defense takes our unique issues very seriously."
"If I hear the word constituents one more time I'm actually going to lose--"

Stark is startled for a few heartbeats, before a smile breaks across his face. "Hey, you made it, Spider-Man. Hope the climb wasn't too bad. This is Mariah Hill: she works for SHIELD, but reports directly to Nick Fury. I said we'd do lunch, but..."

Stark gestures around generically, as the pair step out of the elevator, Mariah Hill stepping off to the side to slip into a conference room just off the elevator, and Stark moving into the main room with Spider-Man. "You want something to drink?"
Spider-Man     "Gaaaaahhhhhi! Wow, Mister Stark, you have a really cool smart-home. Firmware updates must be a nightmare." Spider-Man seems fascinated. "How much stuff around here are you able to move? Yeah, wow, I definitely would love some coffee. Scone sounds great too." He lifts up juuuust the bottom bit of his mask to dig in. Then, when there's a ding, he basically whips his head slightly and the mask immediately falls back below his chin, then he whirls around to Stark.

    "Oh!! Hey, Mister Stark! Wow, no, the climb was great! I, uh, I always thought it'd be weird climbing on Avengers Tower, it's cool!" He surges forward to speak to both. There's a brief moment, just a little too long before he actually shakes Maria Hill's hand. "Oh! Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hill. I'm Spider-Man, I work for superheroism and I don't get to report to anyone." The goggles blink into a cheerful expression.

    "Don't worry, Mister Stark! it's fine if you gotta talk business. I can help out! I've been working a lot on helping with disaster stuff, I've been trying to get word out about FEAST help, stuff like that. You wouldn't believe how much better charity engagement is when masks and costumes add into things." He follows into the main room. "Oh, uh, drink, drink, I could probably use just one more coffee. Man, I'm gonna get so much sleep after this is over, I can't wait."
Tony Stark "Relax, kid." Tony offers with a broad smile, both hands up. "That's not me, either. JARVIS, say hello."

"Of course, sir. Hello, young man - my name is JARVIS. You may be familiar with my current work as the operations director of Stark Industries. I was also a presidential candidate, though knocked out early due to the realities of American government."

Tony laughs, moving to join Spider-Man at the counter. "You probably also know Friday, my personal tactical assistant, and you've 'met' SENTINEL - you were, afraid to say it, part of the dry run of the new defense suite I was installing into the tower."

Mariah Hill laughs lightly at the 'I work for Superheroism' and politely grips Spider-Man's hand. "Must be nice. I followed your twitter, by the way. The city owes you a lot."

Tony nods. "Which is why I want to set you up right, so you can keep on being the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man that didn't just hold together Queens, but most of Downtown. I'm serious!"

Tony's stance shifts, standing up a little straighter, but with an air of... expectancy. "But I've got to know, before all that. What's your deal? What makes a kid from Queens... put on a hoodie and hustle harder than SHIELD? I've looked into you, you know. You don't have to..."

Stark softens. "You don't have to defend what you've done. It's on youtube, I've seen you stop a car. Three thousand pounds, eighty miles an hour - impressive stuff. But why? What makes you give? You could be anything, do anything. And you do..."

A pointed up-and-down look of the Hoodie 'Suit'. "Well, a hell of a job on half a shoestring."
Spider-Man     "My deal? Uh." Spider-Man thinks for a fair bit. "I don't know if I have a deal. I mean, I definitely have a deal, I just..." He's trying and failing to say that he's never put it into words. "Give me a second." He says, seeming to be in need of a moment to gather his words. "Maybe it's better if I tell it like a story. I mean, I don't have a /story/ kind of reason to do it. I know you have the stuff with the Ten Rings, I didn't have something like that exactly. But, well... Okay." He takes a deep breath, and begins.

    "I was at the Stark Expo. During the Hammer Industries attack, I mean. Wow, that was /so/ long ago. And, when I was there, my uncle bought me this mask, it looked sort of like your first red armor's helmet. It was really cool, I still have it, but-- Anyway. The attack started, and everyone around me was screaming and running, and a big Hammerdrone walked up to me. I guess Hammer isn't great at neural networks because I think it thought I was you. But..." He shifts around, awkwardly. "Well. It's weird, because it almost felt like that was okay. Because it was running right at the crowd, and when something like that happens, it's sort of like..."

    Peter laughs a little, and gestures haplessly. "It's kind of kid-logic, but, it seemed so simple. Either I could take the mask off and run away, or I could stay there, be like Iron Man, and try to help. It would keep the drone from stomping through the crowd while it tried to figure me out, right? And when you have anything you can do to save other people... Most people, they don't have a choice put in front of their face that way. But when you can do amazing things that other people can't do, the choice comes up whether you like it or not, and you can't turn away from it. You make the choice to help or not help, and I just..."

    Peter makes a broad gesture, a plaintive half-shrug. "I can't make the choice to /not/. It's hard to think about. I guess I don't really have a deal, I just can't stand not trying to do this sort of thing, Mister Stark. I don't really pick doing this, I just can't really deal with deciding not to. It's kinda embarrassing, but it's kinda like back at the Expo. I just really wanna be like you, you know?" His goggles blink a little, and he looks to Tony with an admiring expression through the mask.
Tony Stark "Take your time." Tony offers, as Spider-Man flounders a bit and asks for a second. "However you need to."

The mention of the Ten Rings gets a wince but not a pained one - merely a flash of memory. He's quiet for the rest of the time, watching Peter explain his own moment when he knew his calling and the matters of the disasterous Stark Expo. The story is compelling, and it clearly shows on his face, and mist crossing his eyes that he masks by slightly fumbling while going for a cup to pour coffee into. His hands shake just a little, the cup rattling softly against the granite countertop as he pours. The bracing first sip of dark liquid causes Tony to--

Spit into the sink. "Lordy that's hot, ah, gheez. Burned my..." He slows. "Sorry. I remember you. Well, that moment. I saw a Hammer Drone trotting along, and some kid in a plastic helmet stared it down. Nearly gave me a heart attack, but... Man. It got me, back then. I was a mess, too, but I've always kind of been a mess. Look at you, though. You did a heck of a thing back then, and didn't stop."

Stark gestures around with his cup. "It wasn't the Rings that made me Iron Man. It was my dad's old partner, Obidaiah Stane. I learned a lot from old Obidaiah. Business. Weapons manufacturing. Industry. How to close out a deal. How to be a real bastard. I had the ego down, though. I think people can change, Spider-Man. For good or ill, people can change: but not much. Captain America - Steve Rogers, worked with my dad. Howard Stark. I thought he was a bastard, too, but he..."

Tony closes his eyes. "He did his best. Had to be hard, with a kid like me. But he told me this story once, about Steve Rogers. He said that, the old doctor - the one behind the superhuman serum? - shared an anecdote, that power only enhances what's inside you, what's core to you. The good and the bad, all get sharper. You're smart, Spider-Man. Sharp. You could have built a blaster, probably tossed together a suit, or salvaged something from Hammer Industries, or AIM. You could have been Iron Man."

"You're not, though. I got the read-out of those web-shooters of yours: tensile strength off the charts, fast acting, biodegradeable. Only way to kill someone with it, though, you've got to try. That's not an Iron Man weapon. JARVIS, what's the loadout on the Mark Forty-Five looking like?"

"The Mark Forty-Five armor is armed with one primary Arc Reactor and seven auxiliary RT devices, each with an enhanced output. Two palm-emitters and one chest-emitter with variable settings, four high-explosive guided rockets in the forearms, two 200-petawatt cutting lasers with upgraded palladium battery-cores for extended use, two shoulder-mounted smartguns with variable munition selection, shoulder and wrist mounted micromissiles and guided munition suites with sixt-"
"That's enough, JARVIS."
"Of course, sir."

Tony taps his chest, where the Arc Reactor would sit. "I wrapped a shell of iron around me, and I did what I knew. I built weapons. Sure, I've got things that can put someone down. Clamps, sonic disruptors, that sort of stuff, but it's not really me. Just because the output can be limited doesn't make it not dangerous. And so I have to hold it tight. Because the last time things with my name on it were sold on the open market, people got hurt. People got killed. It almost killed me - and it killed the man that saved me. That's on my head, Spider-Man. That's my legacy."

"I can't let it be yours. I won't. So I'm not."

The words are said with finality. A surity that he builds up, a crescendo of determination as he speaks, and when he finishes, his hands aren't shaking any more. But his eyes aren't harsh, and a vulnerable smile blooms over his face after a few seconds of waiting. "You need to be yourself, Spider-Man. You need to be Peter Parker. And I'm ready to take you to the next step."
Spider-Man     "Oh. Oh! You mean-- Right. The web-fluid." Peter starts, thinking for a moment, then blinking several times. "Well, I mean, like I said. Doing this kind of thing, it's all the choices that get put in front of you. I wouldn't choose to kill someone, so..." He looks down to the shooters, contemplating. "Well, I probably don't know as much as the guy who made Captain America really strong, but I always thought of it differently. It's not really the power that does it, at least that's how I've felt. It always feels like it's the choices that do it. The power gives you choices, because -- well, what else is power going to do? But, well, it sounds a lot like you didn't really get a lot of choices put in front of you before the Ten Rings thing. But, after that, it really sounds like you had a lot of choices. And then that sharpened the good."

    "You're probably not gonna get me to want to be like you much less, Mister Stark. Mostly because, I mean, you can be different things for different people. I'm sure somewhere out there, there's people who hate you because of back when Stark Industries was all about selling weapons. But, my aunt has this thing she says, it sounds /really/ profound and smart and I'm probably missing some layers of meaning, but, 'when you help someone, you help everyone'. It kind of works from both angles. When you help someone, you're good to them in the whole world. If you hurt them, it's the same thing."

    The shift under his mask and the movement of the goggle-lenses means a smile. "I'm gonna keep trying to be like the Iron Man I know. But, I mean-- You know, if I can be more Spider-Man, that sounds really great. I gotta chase that for sure, Mister Stark." His goggle-lenses furrow slightly. "Though, uh, I'm not sure what you mean by take me to the next step. What's my 'next step'? I don't know which step that one is. I mean, I've been thinking about ankle-webshooters since I saw the jetboots up close, but also that sounds really dumb when I say it out loud just now, /wow/."
Tony Stark Tony looks down at Spider-Man -- at Peter Parker -- and his face expression becomes conflicted. An echo, a twitch, rides the periphery of his eyes and the moments pass in silence as Parker talks. An incredible sadness surfaces, is kept at bay behind clenched teeth and lightly bitten tongue, and melts away. At the end, Tony spins on his heel, walking away from the young hero...

To the kitchenette, and the fridge. "I promised you a lunch, didn't I? Uhhh... Turkey club - it's got avo, is that cool? Reuben? Shwarma? Pepperoni pizza?"

Stark rifles the fridge lightly, the packages of food clearly labelled from today and prepared, though if it was set up for Spider-Man or just a team lunch is unclear.

"Your aunt sounds like a smart lady, Peter. And you're a sharp kid. I spent two weeks putting the best information aggregators and analysts on figuring you out - SHIELD, Friday, JARVIS. You know what I found?"

"Someone inspiring. I've given speeches at MIT, I've seen bright-eyed people, I did a TED Talk, but I'm - no offense - a Stark. I could've gone into finance, left the company to the board and backstroked on an island in the Bahamas. I got given an opportunity to make a choice. Things like destiny... I don't believe in destiny so much any more. There has to be a reason, for..." Tony raises his hand, holding the plastic-wrapped turkey club and spinning it in the air. "All of this. The cave, the aliens..."

He turns back to the fridge. He can't make eye contact. "... Pepper. It all had to be for a reason. Because of the choices I made. The choices put in front of me."

"So I'd like to put a choice in front of you. You've done more for New York than an entire division of the best people in the field, because you made a choice. You - Spider-Man - didn't just save your neighbors, or your city, but people you never met, because you kept making that choice. And you're here because you put on that mask and stood up for people. For what's right."

"I'd be a really poor role model if I didn't try to empower that, wouldn't I?"

When Tony turns back around, chuckling at his mild self-deprication, wrapped around the turkey club are a roll of forms.

On the top is a Commonwealth Paladin application, endorsed by a bakers dozen of names, with Tony Stark's name at the top - pre-stamped. It's a single sheet of paper, with almost all the details already filled in - mostly just missing a signature. Under it, a SHIELD form for requisition of materiel, unfilled. Under that...

It's a very officious looking few sheets of paper outlining an MIT "Stark Grant" that one 'Peter Parker' has been selected to recieve as a "work-study" internship program.

"The next step, Mister Parker. The big time. I've personally endorsed your membership to the Paladins, and as you can see, a bunch of other people have too. As for the rest: The requisition form's pre-approved, and I've got a site picked out for your 'base', but you should pen in anything you think you need to get going. Computers, furniture, lab equipment, all that stuff. And the last one, well..."

"Captain Rogers was lucky - and terrible science. But he had heart. He had a will, to make the same choices you do. You've got abilities, a gift, and you chose to help people with it. I'm just offering you the opportunity to make a lot of choices."

"You know, like pizza, shwarma, or sandwich. Pen?"
Tony's smile blooms to a rakish, confident grin. "Well, if you need one, you've gotta take something off my hands, cuz they're pretty full right now."
Spider-Man     This is when one can practically hear the surging feeling rising inside Spider-Man's soul. He can tell some part of the trajectory that's he's headed before he even gets to look at the forms. He can tell when he's going to get give a choice, and the change in his posture is palpable, immediately going from nervous teen to something that fits the mind a little better when they think 'Spider-Man'. His breath lifts and catches in his throat. His goggles widen about as much as those lenses can go.

    After a bit -- perhaps for no other reason than that he needs to take it off to have that nice turkey club -- he slips that mask off and reveals a terribly wide-eyed expression. This would be the first time Tony has likely had the chance to see it in person. There's so much unsteadiness. Short swallows, eyes that jitter around just a little, and a mind clearly running too fast for his face to entirely keep up when he looks over the forms. He blinks, several times.. He spends a little while staring down at his own mask, as if the goggles are looking back at him.

    "Yeah. Yeah, that's what I mean. I think... Wow, Mister Stark. I think if I followed along on that, I could probably do a lot of good. I don't know for sure, but--" The way his expression shifts through so many contemplative states, it's the kind of thing that all but guarantees that Peter is imagining the potential outcomes of regretting turning this down. He swallows dry, and Tony can see the erratic motions of his fingers sort of sticking and unsticking from the table a few times.

    "Mister Stark. If we do this... Can I make sure my Aunt May doesn't know? She really, really can't deal with this right now, after everything that happened with my uncle. I mean-- I need to help people, and I'm gonna do the best I can, and hopefully that's gonna be better if I pick this. But, if she knows I'm, you know, I'm swinging around fighting bad guys, she'll freak out, and then when she freaks out I freak out. Who knows who's further down the dominoes? Can you promise me she won't know? Unless, I guess, unless something really bad happens and she needs to be told. Really anyone else I know, I'm not as good as you guys are at protecting them."
Spider-Man     He stares down the papers again, like they're about to attack him. "Even.. Hhhh. Even if you did have to tell her, I need to do this." He looks like he's halfway to disbelieving that something so spectacular could be happening to him right now. "I'll... Yeah. I'm gonna do it. I'll join the Paladins." He looks like he's trying to psyche himself up for the signature. Then: "Uh-- right. Right! Yeah. Here." He offers to take the papers, the club, and suchlike from Tony. "Right. Yeah, I actually... need the pen. To sign it." He starts unfolding things and looking them over. Before he loses his nerve, he'll sign almost the instant Tony gives him the pen. It'll take a second or two for him to unstick his hand from it, a subtle sign of the nervousness. "Uh, requisition..."

    "Maybe... There's a couple chemistry supplies I need. I've been taking them out of the school lab, I... probably shouldn't, but it was the best I could do. An electronics workspace so I can fix up some connections on the webshooters while school's out... Jeez, a whole computer Mister Stark? Mine's kind of old, I bet I could move it... Might break if I'm swinging. Honestly might break it if I'm not swinging. Hmmm." As if that 90s-era piece of junk wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. "You know, I did almost figure out a good sort of filter thing to pick up on people Mentioning me better, maybe a bigger display would be good for that if it's not too bad. Oh, and, weird thing, I guess outfit stuff? Like sewing? The spider-suit isn't really great for all-weather stuff, especially if I'm heading out of New York City with the Paladins."

    His written requests will be about as generic as that. "Computer", "electronics workspace", "chemistry lab" defined by only a few specs for handling his web-fluid, "software displays", etc. He's imagining his usual crap from dumpters and school labs as he figures out his own needs.
Tony Stark The first three words out of Tony Stark's mouth aren't anything sappy, or anything heroic.

It's the genuine three words of a mechanic - or an older gentleman, talking to someone going through the exact same awful butterflies thirty years ago.

"Peter, slow down."

With his hands free, Tony guides Peter to the 'dining' table of the Avengers Tower Lounge, and lets him look the papers over, making a light show of patting down his jacket for a pen.

"Read it. This isn't the Avengers - this is the Paladins. Bigger, more worlds, more responsibilities. You won't just be a friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man."

As for Aunt May, Stark's grin returns. "That part's easy. Third packet. The MIT thing is legit - and it just so happens to involve you working directly with a mentor: That'd be me, though Happy Hogan and Maria Hill will be your contacts. An excuse to get out of the house, be Spider-Man, or just pick up some new skills and socialize with the Commonwealth guys... Heck, work with Doctor Strange and those other Earth's wizards."

"But the choice I made, to reveal that I was Iron Man? That was one that I made off the cuff. And it was stupid. Do it when you're ready."

He produces a pen, finally, a nice fountain pen - black body, with gold trim and quill, but holds it tight with his fingers. "Trade you - for your phone. Trust me, even if you decide not to sign, and that is your choice, Peter... You're gona get at least one upgrade before you walk out that door."

"Window."
"Whichever."
Spider-Man     "I'm always gonna be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, Mister Stark. I mean, even if I'm running around other places. This... wow. You really planned this all out, Mister Stark." Peter seems a bit overwhelmed that any of this got planned so far in advance. It's hard for someone as young as him to imagine that anyone /could/. He scratches his face a little, an itch that has gone unresolved since he put the mask on.

    "Going out and doing all that... Mmmh. My gut says it won't be as good because it's not the same home I know, but I know that solving problems out there is still really important. I wanna do that, Mister Stark." He actually sounds a little deflated though. "Guess that means I'm not an Avenger. Haha..." He seems a little relieved that it's not going to /that/ trajectory. Unlike perhaps how it might have been if his introduction to Avengers activities was glamorous battles with handicaps firmly on, having explosive events and disasters be his first in-person experience with the Avengers has given him a bit more of a view of their lifestyle as intimidatingly dangerous to go along with the gloriously heroic.

    "I really appreciate it, Mister Stark, you making all these plans and figuring out all the problems and stuff. Woah, er, the phone? Uh," He digs it out. This is... what /is/ this? It looks like he's voided the waranty on three phones to jam bits of them together. Phones aren't even supposed to be modular in any way, has he been custom-soldering mainboards? Sadly, still got absolutely crap for functionality in this day and age. "Lemme just..." He unjiggles a chunk of it. "Still gotta figure out how to pair it with the goggles." He hands the rest of it off!

    It'll take a moment after he gets the pen. He spends time just kind of staring at it as if it were incredibly fascinating. And he also jitters his fingers around. "Yeah. Yeah." He mutters, anxiously. "You know, it kinda feels weird. After getting so many choices that were kinda not literal choices, now I've got the literal A-or-B choice, and I know what I've gotta do, it's just... wow." Nerves. He takes a few deep breaths, and spends a lot of time swallowing.

    Peter stops, briefly. No, he knows how to break his mind out of this. He does what Spider-Man always has to do in times like this. He turns to Stark and jokes, "So, do I sign 'Peter Parker' or do I sign 'Spider-Man'?" He flashes a brief grin before signing the former with much more confidence.
Tony Stark "I guess that was a little off, wasn't it? You're right." Stark replies to the 'always be a friendly neighborhood spider-man'. "You proved that these last few weeks. Rioting? Zero. Some lunatic bombed New York during the worst blizzard, ever, and some other lunatic drove a stolen tank through the streets, and it wasn't the Avengers that held the people together."

"It's not the Avenger's job to hold the people together."

"You did that, Spider-Man. And if you don't think that was important, well..."

Tony claps Peter on the shoulder, before squeezing once. "Just... Give it a little time to sink in, then. But only a little. The Avengers were never formed to make sure the little guy stayed safe. It was bringing together a 'group of amazing people' to fight the battles nobody else could fight. That even if we couldn't save the world, we'd avenge it. A last ditch. Like I said, Peter. I didn't want you to be me. I wanted you to be better. Now, Natasha and Barton are off doing spy things, Rhodey is training STRIKE in Europe, and Banner is working with Doctor Selvig on exoenergetical wave-forms. You wanna be a spy?"

Tony moves his hand away to cross his arms. "You even got a passport? Look, I'll make you a promise: You keep being Spider-Man - friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man - helping people and doing your best, and the next time something big steps up to the club..."

Tony's vision clears, visibly, as he speaks. "If you're ready, you'll wear the A. I believe in you. But, lordy, this gizmo sure is a chopjob!"

Tony takes the phone, lifting it up to his eyes to inspect.

"You do know that I toyed with getting, like, seven spite doctorates, right?" Stark asks, turning the modulated phone over a few times. "Did you jam Apple parts in here? I think this is an iPod first generation coprocessor - inventive and cheap. Alright, let me set you up."

Using his thumb, Tony pries up a sensitive piece (dangerously close to snapping it) while absently using his other hand to pull out the smartslate-like phone with a rubberized grip-case rim around the outside frame. "Authorization Stark-191694518, decrypt-copy."

Placing the two phones on the desk as the superphone spins up an OS boot and the chinese piece of shit starts visibly rattling from violent overclocking, Peter Parker signs his name away.

"Signal connectivity is going to be the last thing you'll be worrying about. So, Spider-Man."

Tony extends his hand for a formal shake. "I, Tony Stark, hereby formally accept your induction into the Commonwealth's Paladins."

From the kitchenette, two party poppers spray bits of paper across the counter and somewhere, a cork pops.

"Friday, I thought we agreed, no bubbly. He's, like fifteen."
"Sorry, boss. I got excited!"
Spider-Man     Peter looks briefly like he's going to feel more overwhelmed for a moment, but he shakes it off one more time, with yet another joke cracked. "Yeah, I hear I'm alright at holding people together. Helps with the right web-fluid." He sayhs, giving a bright and positive grin. Another joke, another moment of awkwardness resolved. "Alright, if stuff really gets bad, you've got, uh, I guess you've got my number because you're doing that with it." He looks relieved. He was straining that little chinese crap-thing to the max.

    he rises a bit, leaning for the handshake. "Oh, uh." He sort of slaps at his own hand briefly. "C'mon..." Looks like it's briefly stuck on stick-mode for the intensity of the moment. But after a few breaths, he perks up brightly, and takes the handshake directly. "Alright, Mister Stark. I'm glad to be a part, and I'll do my best to help out wherever I can." The wide smile is filled with hope, goodwill, and eagerness, all as much as his handshake.

    He takes a deep, energized breath. Spider-Man grabs up his fresh new phone, and readies up to connect with a whole new world of heroism to take part in. Then several seconds go by. "I'm gonna read this stuff over, but, uh, actually, I just realized I do actually kind of need to eat, so--" He transitions right out of that heartwarming and positive handshake and acknowledgment moment, and into chowing down on the turkey club.
Tony Stark "Yeah."

Stark pumps Parker's hand once, once the awkward sticky-handedness passes with a forgiving smile. "You're alright at that."

"Alright, Parker."

Tony nods firmly, before spinning back around to the fridge. "I'm feeling pizza. Let's do that lunch."

Returning with two chilled slices of New York's finest, Tony slides into a chair across from Peter, on-hand to walk Spider-Man through his new tech gizmo and the wide world of being part of a network with two clients and five bars... everywhere.