Oh, fantastic. This place again. Thrilling. So happy to see you all again. JARVIS, daddy's home.

Text; filter to Tali:
[ because. uhm. who are you you're in his room. ]

hope you haven't broken anything in the apartment yet. watch out for the blender btw

It's time we get organized.

If in your universe you had any dealings with SHIELD or its affliliates. Please contact me.

That last mission was a cluster. If we're going to survive here, we should stick together.

I look foreward to your responses.

Stark that means you.

(OOC: So, basically, Phil's tired of the crap and is trying to get the Marvel peeps together. All of them not just MCU so. Lets do this!)

[Nick is sitting at a table in his favorite bar, a glass of beer sitting on the table and a silver-plated lighter in his hand. He’s turning the lighter over and over, tapping it against the table occasionally.

His usual pissed-off look has been replaced with one that’s more somber.]

Y’know, I’ve never actually killed a person before. I’ve killed hundreds of zombies, and my dad took me hunting when I was younger – deer and elk, mostly. But I’ve never killed an actual person until that mission we went on.

It felt… different… than I thought it would.

[He taps a sealed package of cigarettes lying next to the beer.]

I gave up smoking about ten years ago… I’m starting to wonder why.

[The pissed-off look is back as he shakes his head irritably.]

Fuck this shit. We went back in time, right? By our standards, those fuckers had been dead for thousands of years. We were just… reenacting history. Nothing to feel guilty about.

[The video feed is live, but the visibility is terrible. The tablet's owner sits in the near-dark, three stripes of red light where his face should be. Diego's spent much of his initial week in as much solitude as the circumstances allowed, an ear tuned to the chatter streaming over the network.

Best to test the temperature lest you burn your tongue on the first sip. That's what he always says.

But there's a matter that needs to be addressed, and urgently.

When he speaks, his voice is gruff, drawling:]

This world seems determined to serve up one cup of bitterness after another: monsters, mayhem, missions to the past.

[The red light flashes when it's briefly obscured by his knuckles and the handle of a mug as Diego puts it to his lips. The contents are choked down with a scowl that's barely readable in the low light. ]

I was happy to swallow every drop until I tasted this sewer water. They call it "coffee", I call it an abomination.

If there's a single tolerable bean in this city, I want it. Name your price.

[Alright, so Hawkeye may, in fact, have spent some time going through the device and getting familiar with it, and he may have read up on the situation at hand, but he's not one to run in without a plan. Well, not into all-out war, anyway. He may also have noticed some familiar people in the archives.

Unobtrusive, he stands in a corner of the banquet hall, sending out a short message:]

I heard there's some things that need shooting. My kind of welcome.