While art is subjective, your hate for Stephen Vincent Strange was pure and simple. An arrogant, crude and tasteless man. One of close-minded thinking and a lack of creativity.
This was the type of person any artist like you would despise.
~~~
All...
A large crowd of teenagers stood in the lobby of the tower. Everyone toned their voice down to whispers once three heroes walked out. Within this group, you could spot Peter and his friends, the boy looking nervously at you.
"Ah, Mr Stark, thank you for having us," the teacher approaches Tony first, hand held out.
"Pleasure," he shakes his hand.
"Doctor Strange," Stephen holds his hand out to the teacher next, stepping closer while looking over the students.
"Just call me Y/n," you then took your turn, "Thanks for wanting to tour the tower... mind if I ask what class this is? Stark hasn't given us the full rundown,"
"It's a new class, Global Hero and Villain Studies," the teacher explains, "I'm Ben, by the way,"
"British?" You ask, a smile forming at the small talk.
"Was it the accent?" He jokes lightly, "uhm, shall we?" Ben asks after the kids become evidently impatient.
"We shall," manoeuvring around him, you look at them all, "now, you will all go through those scanners; they will scan you for any unauthorised weapons as well as announce your access level,"
With this, Peter's eyes widen in fear. He had level 7, which meant Avenger-level access. Of course, no one who didn't know his identity was ever at the tower to hear the access level, except lower level SHIELD agents and staff of the tower; he also tended to swing in from the balcony so it was never a worry.
He watches as you demonstrate quickly, "It will just be like this," taking a step through them, a name and level was called out.
"Access level 7, Avenger. Welcome home, Hobby Lobby," Friday announces, making you frown at Stark.
"Oops, guess I forgot to change it," he shrugs as the kids hold back snickers.
"You're so going down for that," you point playfully, though a look of seriousness passed just enough to scare Stark.
Stephen went next, "Access level 7, Avenger. Welcome back, Magic Man," he simply glared at Tony, unamused. The billionaire followed soon after, "Access level 7, Avenger. Welcome back, Tin Can,"
You burst into laughter at your little favour asked of Friday. "Thanks, Fri!" You then gesture to the crowd, "Now go ahead,"
First was Ben, who was nudged out by some students. "Access level 1, visitor. Welcome, Benedict,"
"Just Ben," he mumbles, a tinge of pink on his cheeks when you both share a look of amusement. Soon, the children formed a few lines, one by one passing through with Level 1 access. As lines formed, Peter was pushed to the front, his brow sweating nervously and eyes flickering back to Tony, who was confused about why he was so fearful.
"Come on, Parker," Flash pushes him forward, the boy catching your attention quite a bit. "Prove you're an intern," he chuckles smugly.
"I am an intern," he fiddles with his sleeves before walking through.
"Access level 4, intern. Welcome back, Peter," Friday says with a happy chirp, "you're not scheduled for today; shall I let the team know you're here?" The automated message follows without question.
"No thanks, Friday," he scratches his neck while a few look at him bewildered.
"Need to fix those automations," Tony fiddles with his watch while you hold a thumbs up to Peter.
~~~
"Our main focus is observing procedures," Ben had started to give more details of the excursion, considering Tony had decided against it out of pure laziness. "Such as training and the not-so-exciting aspects of being a hero,"
"There are loads, trust me," your smile widened when he laughed, "Lots of paperwork if I'm going, to be honest,"
"Tedious?" He asks playfully.
Your tone became a tad more dramatised, "atrociously so," the group that had been stuck with you and Ben all eye each other knowingly. "Well, welcome to the training room," you meet up with the other half of the group.
"We have systems implemented to cater for every hero," Tony points towards one room showing Sam's simulator to train his flying skills. Another specific for magic combat is for Wanda and a treadmill room for Pietro; yes, the entire floor moves.
One girl raises her hand. "Will we see anyone train?" Just as the elevator opened to reveal Steve, Bucky, and Sam.
"Oh my god, it's Steve Rogers!" A student gasps.
"Sam Wilson is so much more handsome in real life," another whispered.
"Smash Bucky Barnes, for real," someone else mutters to their friend.
"Same," you fist-pump all three students as Steve rolls his eyes at your comment. "What? I didn't say anything,"
"Mr Rogers? How much were you paid to make those PSA videos for school?" someone raises their hand, making Tony laugh.
"Classified," Steve says simply, "are we going to demonstrate the equipment?" He looks to Tony.
"Yeah, then Picasso and the magician can battle it out. I got a solid bet with Romanoff," he replies.
"Yeah, so do I," Sam then looks at Bucky, pulling out a crisp $20, "wanna join?"
"Bets on Strange kicking ass," he mumbles, causing you to scoff.
"Bets on L/n. I got you," Sam puts his arm over your shoulder, and you both high-fiving.
"Oh, you're so going down," eyes narrow and a smug look plastered; it was enough to get him riled up.
Steve, Bucky and Sam all entered the room. This was more generalised for hand-to-hand combat with holographic robots to act as Hydra agents. Steve took up his shield, Bucky picked out a few knives, and Sam fitted on his wings, nothing the teens hadn't seen in the news before. With the simulation ready to go, it was three beeps before the agents were released, and the fighting began.
The shield, knife, and mini explosives from Sam's wings had set off left and right. Flashes of blue holograms glitched and fuzzed up as weapons hit them in target spots highlighted by red circles. Unsurprisingly, holograms faded within the next few minutes, and the smoke cleared to show the heroes unscathed. Cheers ring out from students in the viewing area, the three soldiers returning to them with proud smiles.
"Shall we?" Stephen then gestures to the magic-resistant and specialised simulation that Stark sets up.
"Here we go," Tony sighs, "try to keep it contained, please,"
"Rules, no portal opening unless it is kept in the room, and no loops," you change into your suit, "whoever taps out first loses,"
"Another rule, none of that ink stuff; I don't want chemicals in my system," he holds his gloved hand out, which you shake.
~~~
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