#rebuildtask5

[the-m3chanic]

“ Turns out rock bottom has a BASEMENT. ”

Tony has been through the war this season, literally AND metaphorically. Things have been spiralling out of control for him ever since Ultron, leading to the deterioration of his relationship with Pepper, his increasing reliance on alcohol and paranoia that renders sleep a pipe-dream.

When Novi Grad fell into the water, Tony shifted his attention from focusing on more cosmic threats to protecting his team – his FAMILY – from a much more prevalent danger: himself. Pushing everyone away, appearing cold and distant even as he built them more and more sophisticated means of defence, was the best option to keep them safe. Unfortunately, that meant that when the Accords were brought to his desk, he didn’t even TALK to the team before signing on the dotted line.

Since 2008, Tony’s main goal was accountability, and the Accords provided that. Added to that was the fact that Tony just didn’t TRUST himself anymore. He looked at the man in the mirror and hated what he saw, even as the world around him called him a hero, painted his image on brick walls around the city, screamed in delight when he flew past. When the other Avengers disagreed with him, it wasn’t just POLITICS. It was personal. Maybe that was why he lashed out so much, why he took the Accords and pressed them so tightly to his heart. Maybe that was why when Steve and the others went into hiding, he told himself he had never cared at all.

Then the Syndicate arrived, and the Strike Force’s corruption became all the more evident. Tony wouldn’t go so far as to say he felt BETRAYED, but it was damn close to that. Once again he had entered into a system that screamed for accountability yet dealt under the table to keep their own asses clean. It was too late, though. He had signed. He had given himself to the Panel. He believed in the Accords – he still does, almost overwhelmingly – but the way they were being implemented added yet more stress and distrust into his life.

Rhodey FELL from the sky. Pepper left the city, trying to get some peace in her life again after he destroyed what they had. Peter got de-masked, rendering the kid he had finally allowed himself to love in a state where the future was uncertain and a TARGET was placed on his forehead. Sharon went undercover into one of the most DANGEROUS cults Tony had seen. Tony’s heart got worse and worse. The arc reactor had to be re-implanted, and with his recent investigations into Extremis, he shot himself up in order to keep his heart beating (although that part he would leave out if any doctor questioned his brief periods of respite). Whiskey got him through the day, and when he ran out of that, he drank anything that was going. The unfortunate side effect of this was that Xanax and other medications for his anxiety were off the table. Tony found himself having panic attacks on an almost daily basis – and finding it much harder to hide from those around him.

There was a time when things seemed as if they were looking up. The Avengers came back into his life, and they retained a friendship despite the politics surrounding them. Tony undermined the Panel from the inside, refusing to arrest his friends, the heroes of the city. Peter and Cassie were kids that kept him going. Rhodey and Pepper returned into his life, providing him that safe base (even if him and Pepper were a lot more COMPLICATED than they’d ever been). He found himself getting close to someone again, even though the idea of it terrified him, and found a kindred spirit in Jessica, someone who UNDERSTOOD him more than anyone had in years.

It wasn’t enough. The good didn’t outweigh the bad. The Syndicate swarmed the streets. Orse declared WAR. When Tony tried to make things better – when he stormed Attilan – he was stabbed in the chest for his attempts. He has been searching desperately for months for a way to bring Rhodey back into the fight, a way to gift his best friend his mobility back, but he has hit a WALL. Extremis was the only option – and so he implanted it in a suit which he called the SUPERIOR. The unfortunate side effect was that the suit maximised all of Tony’s worst qualities. After that, Tony was made more than aware of his own issues, and things got even worse. He shelved the suit, promising himself he’d never go down that road - but in the future, any promise may be broken.

He thought he’d hit rock bottom MONTHS ago, but it turns out rock bottom has a BASEMENT. There are so many problems Tony has to fix, so many people he could help, but the Syndicate are occupying almost all of his time. They broke into his Tower, his church, and their involvement with the Panel was made clear. Corruption is all around him, and once again Tony feels POWERLESS to help.

People are relying on him, but Tony can’t see why. Alcoholism, anger, anxiety, depression, helplessness, self loathing … they all swirl in his mind on a daily basis, and if he doesn’t do something soon, he’ll drown in them.

NEXT SEASON will start with Tony at the lowest he has ever been, even after the end of his engagement to Rumiko. It will start with Tony frustrated and disillusioned, still a FUTURIST, but someone who considers that future as one without HIM. He will have so many questions and not enough answers, so many fights and not enough firepower.

The good news, though, is this:

Tony didn’t die in a cave in Afghanistan. He stayed alive because HE KNEW HE HAD THINGS TO DO. If he could build himself a suit and fly out of that little slice of hell on earth … he can work his way out of this.

After all, if there is one thing Tony Stark knows how to do, it’s REBUILD.

[rebuildhq]

              “I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it.”

For our fifth task, and our final one of this season, we’ll be discussing how your character has evolved over the past couple of months, or if you’re new, discussing how you’d like to develop your character as Rebuild enters its second season!

This task is open to honestly open to interpretation. If you’d like to write meta about how your character has struggled and flourished, you may do that. If you’d prefer to write a drabble with them reflecting on the war, the Syndicate, the losses, the triumphs, you may do that as well. We’d simply like to see how your character has evolved from the beginning.

Your prompt is, “How has your character changed from when you first entered the roleplay, and where would you like to see them go?” There is no wrong answer to this! We, as admins, adore you all and can’t wait for the next season to begin (on Monday!)

Get writing, everyone, we’re so excited to see where you go with this task. Remember to tag all of the posts ‘rebuildtask5.’ 

[gcttagofcst]

“ Sometimes I feel like I’m racing my own SHADOW. The shadow of every mistake I have ever made. There are some things even I can never OUTRUN. ”

In the midst of war, there were always pockets of peace. Pietro spent years connecting the threads of violence, trying to pinpoint when his country would once again lapse into a period of quiet. He had found that war, although it followed similar patterns every time it reared its ugly head, was unique. New York’s streets had seen aliens, ninjas, vigilantes leaping between the rooves. It had seen mind control and unbreakable skin and a man in a metal suit. It had seen a giant green guy leaping from the pavement and smashing through its office space, a demi-god appearing from space and legend, and a super-soldier risen from apparent death. The Syndicate were a different fight entirely.

The Panel claimed they had been intending to keep the peace, but Pietro knew better. He knew better than to rely on governments for anything. They were all governed by their own personal agendas and nothing else. They were selfish, taking everything for themselves and leaving the poorest people to beg for scraps. He had seen it before. He had lived it for years. Signing had never been an option, even when enhanced people began dropping like flies.

Trish Walker had been murdered, and she was on the registered side. They had promised her protection and yet she had been brutally murdered on live radio. Pietro had sat at home with his sister, listening, bile rising in his throat at the horror that littered New York’s streets. America was supposed to be better – it was supposed to be the definition of the Western world, strong and rich and powerful and safe. Pietro was seeing none of that now.

When he arrived in New York – when things were calmer, barely contained, when the war was only a whispered possibility rather than a bitter reality – Pietro had been reeling from his recovery. He had been jaded and taken down a notch by his near death, and he had been trying to prove himself to the Avengers, to himself, to everyone who had doubted him. Before Sokovia, he thought himself unbeatable. The fastest man in the world, a man who could dodge anything that was thrown at him. Now he knew different. Now, he realised how fragile life could be.

As the months drew on, Pietro found himself settling into New York more than he ever thought he would. Memories flashed into his mind if he allowed himself to dwell. Him and Cassie walking the streets, chomping down on churros, comparing complaints of tourists. Challenging Shelly at the bar and feeling himself laugh at her words and teasing. MJ’s fire in the midst of a protest, that blinding care and optimism for a better world that Pietro shared in abundance. Trading snarky comments with Lorna. Fighting the Syndicate, keeping other people safe, making a difference. Growing close to all of these people wasn’t something Pietro was expecting, but he had friends now, people who actually cared, something he hadn’t expected.

Kitty was another person that Pietro didn’t think he’d end up worrying about, fighting beside, training with, but she was a part of his life now. During his childhood Pietro had been popular, but he had never cared about anyone outside of his family. Caring only opened up the potential for hurt, and he had a taste of that when Kitty got injured. He would rather be shot a million and one times himself than see tears stain her cheeks again, and he’s just waiting for the inevitable heartbreak that will come, but maybe he’ll be able to push himself to make a change, to open himself up to the potential for something more.

The Syndicate are an ever-present threat, but Pietro is confident that the heroes around him – certainly the people more heroic than him – will find a solution soon enough. As the months draw on and the war grows hotter, Pietro’s anger and frustration at the treatment of mutants has already grown. He has answers about who he is now – the latent mutant gene that has always been there, triggered by the experiments – and he finally feels as if he belongs. He will die to protect that; after all, he’s almost done it before.

Destroying the Syndicate. Opening himself up to friendships. Protecting his fellow mutants. Training to get stronger. Finally finding the way to tell Kitty what he actually feels. Looking into his past. All of these objectives, these missions, swirl around in Pietro’s mind. Luckily, he has the strength and speed to complete them all in the near future.

[akagoddammit]

AKA Some Things Never Change (And Some Things Do)

summary: jessica wakes up from a nightmare and reflects on life, like ya do trigger warning: alcoholism mentions of death, implied rape/suicidal ideation

An old nightmare jolted her awake. Hotel rooms. Laying in the bed, unable to move, unable to do anything but stare at the clock, which grew teeth and taunted her, before shadowy, hooded figures slipped in through the window. They didn’t kill her, they just laughed, laughed at how pathetic she was.

So an old nightmare with a new twist. But the real twist was waking up next to him. Tony was awake beside her, not touching her, not yet. He’d learned not to right away, so for right now, he just watched her, let her catch her breath, tablet held loosely in one hand and the arc reactor on his chest casting a glow through the room. 

“New project?” she asked, swallowing down the bile in her throat. Tony shrugged, and ran a hand gently along her back, moving in slow circles. He answered her, but she couldn’t quite make out the words through the sound of her pulse pounding in her ears. But she heard the gentle rhythm of his voice, the deep cadence. A sound she’d come to associate with safety, irritation, and affection all at goddamn once.

He set the tablet aside, and without saying a word, wrapped her in his arms. She let her head fall to his chest. It was so familiar now, this feeling. Being held. Being touched without flinching, without fearing the worst, without anything but acceptance. 

She focused on the dull thud of his heart in his chest. The whir of the arc reactor. When she closed her eyes, she saw the past few months, the past year go by. She’d never been able to imagine a future like this.

She was sober. She went out and played hero, by her own goddamn choice. Sometimes she even made a difference. She’d almost died countless times, but she didn’t want to die anymore. Everything was different. Now when she woke up from nightmares, she didn’t tip over chairs and murmur street names. Now she had someone to wake up to. Someone to keep waking up for. 

But there was a dark side to change, too. Trish was gone. Her neighborhood was under constant attack, her city was burning. Even the Tower hadn’t been safe in the end, and she’d always known that deep down -- that nowhere was. That hadn’t changed. 

There were still nightmares. Still days where she’d rather drown in a bottle of whiskey instead of stepping outside. She just didn’t let herself anymore. Her edges were as rough and sharp as ever, and a lot of times she wasn’t sure how she could love anyone with insides as empty as hers. A lot of times, she still hated herself. But sometimes, when she was helping someone, when Tony smiled at her and said stupid shit that wasn’t goddamn true, the self-loathing felt smaller. 

She thought about the woman who had waltzed into a bar with her married friend, and forced a kiss onto her lips. She thought about listening to her sister gasping for breath on live radio. She thought about taking her friend’s leg and snapping it in two, just to avoid getting arrested. Maybe nothing had really changed, maybe she was still selfish, still hopelessly outmatched, still desperately clinging to control in every goddamn way she could. 

But she also thought about letting herself say those three words. About meaning them. She thought about walking past bars, leaving the liquor bottles lying around the Tower untouched. She thought about putting herself through detox twice. About standing there waiting for the Syndicate to attack, and letting Tony make the decision. She thought about how she’d gone to him when she relapsed, instead of running away.

There were all these pamphlets about sobriety. With testimonials from people who said that when they got sober, it felt like they’d been re-born. Jessica didn’t quite feel that way, but sometimes, her skin didn’t feel as wrong on her bones. Sometimes, her mind didn’t feel like it was made up of pieces too broken to fit together. Sometimes she felt sane, even stable. Sometimes she could let go.

Before all this, she wouldn’t have believed this future was possible. That she was even capable of it. But after... 

Impossibly, she felt sleep overtake her for the second time that night. That was a change, too. Sleep still wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t a stranger either. Jessica tilted her head up, as her eyelids grew too heavy to hold open. “Remember that quote from The Matrix?” she murmured. “Some things never change. But luckily, some things do.” She pressed her lips to his chest, and that was all she had. 

But that was more than she’d ever been able to give before. That had to count for something.