I'm too old to throw parties.

[arrogantalloy]

WHO| Tony Stark, the occupants of D12, and anyone else really.
WHAT| Tony's touching base with people
WHEN| Somewhere between the arena finishing but very before Panem Nightly's broadcast.
WHERE| District 12's Floor
WARNINGS| Other than talk about death in a game about murdering, nah, probably not.


With everyone out of the arena, Tony wanted to see how everyone was. It had become habit from the first arena, but after being out of the game so long and being unable to avoid seeing everyone he knew die this time, at least several times due to the apparent replay value of everyone's death. Tony needed to know that everyone was okay.

Even if some of those he knew hadn't come back at all.

A fact that stunk him a lot harder than he'd care to admit. Without expressly saying 'party', 'get together', or anything like that, Tony had let those he knew know that there was going to be drinks and food on his floor. SURE every floor had drinks and food but this was a purposeful open invitation. Purposeful in that he didn't want to look anxious or desperate to make sure everyone was alive and relatively fine mentally.

So he made sure there was more food laid out and ignoring any complaints from the people actually on his floor rearranged furniture to his pleasure, before pouring himself a drink to help ease his own nerves a bit before anyone actually shows up.

So as people filter in, Tony will either be floating around talking to people, behind the bar offering drinks, or occasionally disappearing into his room to try and calm himself down when some people are taking longer to arrive than they should. Hey, PTSD isn't something that just goes away after all. Much to Tony's great irritation.

The party also serves as a good distraction from the fact he's been spending a few chunks of time during the arena out of video range to work on his computer and the A.I being installed on it.

Comments

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Of course Sam is there. He's got a couple of excuses ready on him, the best of which he's settled on as 'hey, you told me you always threw the right kind of parties,' but really, he's just as worried about his friends as Tony is. Tony himself included.

It's not long after he gets there that he spots Tony - and sees him ducking out of the party, disappearing off alone into another room. Sam hesitates for only a second before following after him.

"Hey, man, you better be decent in there or people're really going to talk," he calls through the door, pushing it open to head inside.

[arrogantalloy]

Before Sam gets to the door, Tony's already roughly running a hand through his hair as he drops heavily to sit on his bed, already breathing faster than he'd like.

He swallows awkwardly and looks up at Sam as he comes in with a joke, clenching and releasing his fists as he does, attempting to not look as panicked as he is.

"I'm all for paring the course." He pants, hoping he doesn't look pitiful.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Honestly, Tony does a pretty passing job at not looking too panicked, but Sam is really damn good at recognizing the signs.

He nudges the door shut with his foot, keeping the closing quiet, and pads over to stop a foot or two away from the bed.

“Is it okay if I touch you, or do you need me to stay back here?” He can roll with either one, but he’d rather ask than guess wrong and make things worse.

[arrogantalloy]

He's good at passable because he's had to work at looking passable a hell of a lot over the last few years. Something which more recently has really been put to the test and failed more than he'd like.

He clenches his fists again then shakes his fists out, his skin both wanting to leap off of him and wanting to contract further against him.

Though he manages a weak grin.

"This how you react to all the boys you kiss at parties?"

After all, humour and deflection has always been his best defense as he tries to fight another wave of near crippling panic.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

“Nah, just the ones that make a good impression,” Sam tosses back as he sits down on the bed next to Tony. Of course Tony wouldn’t actually answer the question. He’ll just take it a step at a time, then.

“Quit flirting with me and focus on breathing, man, you think a guy who left the military and hangs out at the VA doesn’t know what a panic attack feels like? If you gotta talk, you can count with me. Breath in on a count of seven, out on a count of eleven. Just keep doing that, breathing and counting.”

[wizardplease]

Before the arena, it hadn't been like Haruto go to looking for fun on other floors, or to go out seeking a party. But this was after.... everything. And he needed distractions, if he was going to keep himself functioning. So he'd heard tell through the Tribute grapevine that Tony Stark (whoever that was) was hosting a something-or-other up on D12, it seemed like a good idea. Like a thing he wanted to do and a place that he should be.

He's picked at any sweets on offer, but having found them mostly lacking, he's made his way to the bar. And it takes him a moment to realize that the guy behind it is Tony. (He'd been trying to avoid watching arena recaps, but sometimes they're there, and sometimes you catch faces labeled with names....) "Uh. What do you recommend?" He's not feeling picky right now, as long as it's sweet.

[arrogantalloy]

When asked about the drink Tony leans back against the counter behind him and folds his arms across his chest contemplatively.

"Well, what do you like. Sweet, sour, bitter, large?"

He makes a vague gesture with his hand.

"Because believe me, I could recommend at least ten in each category that I'd drink, and I didn't even cocktails."

He pauses for a second. "Who are you?" Okay, he probably should have wondered about that sooner, but Tony didn't have that kind of thought process.

[wizardplease]

His answer is immediate. "Sweet." And he's going to own that answer, sort of settling himself back on one of the bar stools and calmly waiting to see what Tony throws together. Real men drink things that make paint peel and throats burn? Pff, to hell with that.

Oh. Oh wait. Maybe he should introduce himself. "Haruto. Ah, Haruto Soma. And you're Tony Stark, right?"

[arrogantalloy]

Tony gives him a nod, then pulls out a bottle of coconut rum, and a bottle each of cranberry and grapefruit juice, and gets to work of mixing, it's a pretty easy drink so it's soon in front of Haruto.

"One Malibu Sea-breeze"

The older man was hardly one to judge someone for how they liked their drink, because Tony was hardly a picky man himself. However considering Haruto didn't look like a grizzled old man, he wasn't really one to think that hard liquor was going to be his go to option.

"Ah, that would be me, yes. Hope you're enjoying the party?"

[silverskymagician]

Kaito didn't know Tony Stark from God, but sure, why not celebrate getting tossed out an airlock with a celebration? It had to be better than moping around feeling sorry for himself.

And because even he knew not to come to a party empty-handed, one of the first things he did was walk up to a small group of people, produce a fragrant bouquet of flowers seemingly from thin air, and handed to the closest young woman he saw. He took a seat at the bar, looking about five years too young to be drinking anything stronger than cough syrup.

"I'd like a double scoop of chocolate ice cream, please."

[arrogantalloy]

Tony just blinks at the kid as he sits at the bar then asks him for ice cream. Then he makes a point to look around the bar.

"I dunno about you, kid. But this isn't really an ice cream bar." He nods over to the fridge. "You'd be wanting that freezer right there. But here. I can give you a soda."

He tilts his head curiously at the kid waiting for his answer.

[silverskymagician]

Logically, of course, there was no reason to expect a bar to serve ice cream. But that certainly didn't stop Kaito from asking, because ice cream was fucking delicious. He glanced over where Tony was indicating, but... somehow, digging stuff to eat out of a freezer during a party kind of defeated the purpose of being at a party. He rested his elbows on the bar and rested his chin on his hands, grinning openly.

"A soda, huh? Can we split the difference and make it a root beer float?" Kaito wasn't even that big on root beer, but he did sort of want to know how Tony operated behind that bar.

[arrogantalloy]

Tony huffs a noise to suggest he's being put out then points sudden;y to an Avox. He hates ordering them around, not because they're humans, or because Tony's not used to having people to order around. He hates ordering them around because without a tongue and their minds addled they can't sass him or react at all to him other than to follow his orders. It's too creepy, but he doesn't really want to leave the bar right now.

"You, scoop of vanilla ice cream." Is all he says before pulling out a glass and starting to load it up with root beer.

"You know, you can have ice cream in soda that isn't root beer, right?" Tony glances at the boy as the Avox approaches, putting the ice cream into the glass after Tony gestures to it. Once it's done Tony put's in a straw and a spoon and pushes it towards him.

slides in here

[cognitived]

Sure, Natasha and Wilson had mentioned that the rest of the team was here, but Tony had died before Clint had made his way into the Arena and they'd missed each other by days. Which means, really, that the first moment he gets, Clint's on his way over to make sure the others had spoke true and Tony Stark was kicking around. And, well, a party really goes miles to confirming that doesn't it?

So Clint steps through the door acting cool as a cucumber, gaze flicking idly about as if he was simply seeing who was there ( he was ), rather than marking exits and escape routes. Tony's over by the bar, and that's exactly where Clint heads.

"So you're moonlighting as a bartender these days, Stark?"

[arrogantalloy]

It took Tony a second to recognise the voice. After all, Tony had been in this world so long that he couldn't pin point the last time he spoke to Clint without J.A.R.V.I.S. That didn't mean though he didn't know Clint had been brought here. He saw him on the screen, saw his and Natasha's final frame.

Though when he looked up at Clint none of the thinking showed, he just shrugged easily and popped a cherry in his mouth.

"I've heard being able to give it away is a good step to recovery. Also I really like Cheers." He offers Clint a lazy grin "How may I poison you tonight?" He leans a little to one side so Clint can get a better look at what was on offer.

[cognitived]

For Clint it's been mere months since last he talked to Tony and the majority of the Avengers. He's seen Stark on TV and in headlines, of course, because there's nothing Tony Stark does that doesn't wind up plastered in the media. But he wouldn't be surprised to realize it takes a bit of effort for Tony to remember the sound of his voice, they'd really only talked a couple times in the span of a few hours while fighting the Chitauri and not so much after. Even now, months later, Clint isn't the most verbose. But he's getting there, back to the familiarity of his own self prior to Loki.

He doesn't like thinkng about that, but the recent week with Loki's blood staining his hands red means there a deep welling satisfaction within the pit of Clint's belly. This doesn't show, really, but there's an ease in his loping gait that Tony might not recognize from the wariness of his weeks in the Arena.For now though, he scrubs fingers through the short spikes of his hair.

At Tony's words, Clint snorts, returning that grin with a slow raking look, mouth curling up in an easy smirk. It's as much a tease and a play as Tony's easy movements are. So Clint leans up against the bar, elbows resting against the countertop as he looks over the drinks on offer.

"Whiskey's fine by me."

[arrogantalloy]

"You know." Tony starts as he pulls out a chilled glass and drops in a few ice cubes. "The fact you didn't ask for a beer makes want to re-evaluate how I thought of you."

Okay, Tony might not have had the strongest opinion of the guy, but really that was because he was only around him maybe a week tops after the Battle of New York and even then Barton had been off dealing with his own thing. That and Tony wouldn't be shocked if Fury liked keeping Tony's distracting influence away from as many of his agents as possible.

He pulls out a bottle of whisky then starts to pour it.

"But at the same time, I'm morally obligated to judge you for picking whisky."

Once he's finished pouring he slides the drink in front of him.

"You're just lucky the whisky here is passable."

[a_minute_younger]

Gary does not know Tony and doesn't hold any special interest in meeting him, right up until he catches wind of a party being held the twelfth floor. Gary never misses a party. He might be a little late and under-dressed when he bursts out of the elevator and enthusiastically greets anyone he recognizes, but he sure as hell is going to make the best of his time here. The best place to start, he decides, is at the bar.

After the initial round of mingling is over with, Gary sidles over to where the drinks are and leans confidently over the counter. He's a bit young for this. This hasn't stopped him before and it certainly isn't going to stop him now.

"You're a cool guy, you know that?" Gary's grin is wide and personable. He usually doesn't make a habit of chatting up the barkeeps, but he recognizes Tony enough to know that he's a Tribute, and therefore might actually be invested in some smalltalk. "Not enough of these suite parties have booze."

[arrogantalloy]

When the kid approaches and leans over the counter, Tony only slightly raises an eyebrow at him.

"It's been brought up a few times."

He replies drolly. After all, you don't grow up with then replicate a British butler without learning a thing or two.

"Well that's probably because those parties weren't hosted by me. It's part of the package deal when it comes to Stark parties." He shifts his weight as he rubs the palms of his hands on his trousers. "You drinking, or do I have to make another root beer float?"

[a_minute_younger]

"I'm drinking," says Gary, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. It helps to be assertive in these sorts of situations. Maybe he would be more assertive if he knew what kinds of drinks to order--which, incidentally, Gary has planned ahead for. He has a list. It's in his lap now and he's running his finger over the entries without looking at them, until he feels that the choice will be sufficiently random.

"Then you need to host more parties!" Gary's other hand comes up to pensively scratch his chin. "...'Stark,' huh? Tony Stark?"

[arrogantalloy]

"That's what everyone keeps telling me."

At least back in his own world a lot of people did make it known that it was so sad that Tony barely even attended parties let alone threw his own any more. He'd moved on from the party scene, and really if becoming a superhero, and making world peace a whole lot easier to obtain wasn't enough of a sign to those people, then why bother actually saying it.

"Well I don't really know any other Stark's around here. So, that would be me."

He pauses deliberately for a moment, when the kid still hasn't given him something to make for him.

"Well?"

[aboveangrybees]

There were other things to take care of first before Steve could go to the get together Tony's unofficially having. The man just doesn't invite just anyone over for food and drinks and have it be nothing. This is something.

Yet, when he shows up late, everyone but the host seems present. In fact, he's nowhere to be seen. Which could be a worry, but Steve doesn't plan to let the missing man stay missing.

He mingles for just a couple minutes before someone tells him Tony has disappeared back towards the rooms. Normally, Steve would give someone space, but they're supposed to be dating, doesn't that mean he should feel free to go to his boyfriend's room anytime? Well, even if it doesn't mean that, he does it anyway, only giving a small knock to announce himself before entering the room.

"Everything alright?"

[arrogantalloy]

This party has proved to Tony that he doesn't have as much of a handle on his panic attacks as he thought. Though he has to admit, crowds of people causing it is new, and potentially problematic if it ends up carrying over when they return him.

For the moment he's taking a break in his room, not panicking right now, so much as giving himself a moment to make sure he doesn't. Choosing to take his current anxiety of crowds to have more to do with his dash on the cornucopia and being stabbed than it is anything permanent, when Steve knocks on the door.

As Steve enter's Tony turns from the window he was standing in front of just enough to get a glance at the man as he enters.

"Uh, just having a moment. Guess parties just aren't as fun when I don't have J.A.R.V.I.S monitoring for party crashers and armed guards." He says as he turns to look back out the window, licking his lips as he finishes his own internal thoughts before properly turning to Steve after taking a steadying breath.

"So, trying for the whole fashionably late deal?"

[aboveangrybees]

Steve takes a long look at Tony, really trying to catch on to how bad this moment might be right now. To figure out where on the panic attack scale this might stand, if it's pre or post or somewhere in between. Tony isn't the easiest person to read, but Steve can see enough to feel that maybe a few more minutes away from the crowd would probably be good.

"Yeah, decided to give a page out of your book a try," he says it as he steps into the room, closing the door behind him as he does. "But don't think it's much my thing," being late never has been, not that he really considered himself late to something with no preassigned start time.

So as to not make Tony feel caged in by standing in front of the door, he moves to the window near the man and looks out it. "Quite the view."

[arrogantalloy]

Steve had come in just as the attack was building, so if nothing else his sudden appearance has altered the flow of how it was going to go, so Tony rubs the back of his neck roughly before focusing on Steve, using him as an excuse to stop his freaking out.

"Makes sense, not all of use can make being late look as good as I can." He's speaking a little faster than normal, so he swallows hard then follows Steve's look out the window.

"It's got nothing on New York." Which, as far as Tony's concerned it's true. His tower was taller than this building and with the rest of New York built up around it, there was no view Tony could get without the help of his suits that could trump the view his living room back home offered.