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Stark Industries is in a state of Construction. The building still stands, but it's sustained fairly heavy interior damage due to an attack from one of their Janitors (who turned out to be some sort of gun-weilding, metal-armed assassin). It's given the CEO, Tony Stark, a chance to really update some of the technology and bring the building into the Future. It means, however, it's a lot more work than just rebuilding the elevator shafts and upper-floor condos.
All business, for the most part, has been moved to the first few floors that are easily reached by stairs and were untouched by the attack. It's a little crowded, a little loud, but still plenty busy. Stark himself has been meeting daily with the Construction crews and has sort of been doing more engineering and electrical work than anything else — that's what Pepper is for!
The Reception desk remains as it is in the front, but there is construction all around her. The poor, pretty girl at the front doesn't seem too pleased as she tries to answer the phones and greet visitors.
*
A meeting is a meeting, and the one Forge had set up a couple weeks prior was never officially canceled. He arrives without pomp or glamour, a sleek black car dropping him off before he strides inside. He does not particularly stand out, and as a scientist with almost zero commercial presence, is mostly jostled and bumped as he pushes his way towards the front desk. He wears a fine blue business suit, hands covered in black gloves. He's more groomed than he would usually bother, absently adjusting the knot of his tie. He waits patiently until the receptionist is between calls and immediate questions to cough loudly, which takes more time than he imagined. "Forge, meeting with Tony Stark?" he states loudly over the din of constant noise.
*
The pretty receptionist looks up and gives the older man a bit of a long-suffering look…and it's only Monday morning. When he says that he has an appointment with Stark, that gets another sigh. "You might be waiting a long time, sir…" but she'll call to see if he's actually willing to take a meeting. Poor girl, whenever Stark chooses to 'forget' about a meeting, it always falls upon her to deal with the irate businessmen. "If you'll take a seat," she gestures to some of the modern furniture that's only a little singed; they're waiting for the lobby to be done before fully redecorating.
She places the call upstairs only to find that Tony isn't in his office. It then sends the many assistants on the wild goose chase to see if they can find him out and about.
It's maybe five or so minutes later that Stark emerges from one of the staircases with one of the contractors, explaining exactly what he wants, "I don't really care if it's not traditional. I'm not a 'traditionalist' and this -will- work. Trust me." The contractor steps away after a friendly clap on the back, leaving Tony to saunter over to the Reception desk. "Violet, right? Can I get you a coffee or something?" Non-traditionalist is right. It doesn't hurt that she's attractive.
*
There's no particular sign of Forge being too put off by things. Sure, there's a hardness to his jaw and a mild exasperation, but he nods his head before proceeding to a number of chairs. He finds the one that's the least singed in key locations before settling into it, and then putting his briefcase in his lap. Popping it open, he pulls out a seemingly inocuous machine and begins deftly working with it. When he hears the familiar voice of Iron Man, it's tucked away quickly and the briefcase clamped shut. With the speed of a man desperate to be out of this situation he approaches Tony from behind. "Mr. Stark!" he calls out, absently extending his left hand. You know, the one hard as steel, cold, completely unfeeling. "Ah, I believe we had an appointment!" Being Forge would probably mean something to Tony. If he had any idea this was Forge. As far as he knows, it's probably just a nameless suit, the only curiosity being his Cheyenne descent. Maybe he's a local charity case. Overcoming racism to prove America is the best?
*
Damn. He's caught! This is what happens when one is famous. Or infamous. He could try to run, but it seems a little late not. It's also probably not going to work if he says he's a robot. Violet is given a withering glance before he looks at the offered -left- hand. Interesting. It's even more interesting when he takes it and…that's not a real hand in there! "We did? Uh, so we did." Even though he has no clue who this guy is. "Remind me again, what were we meeting about? Things have been a little crazy here," he gestures to the state of flux even in the Lobby area.
*
A normal person might not notice it… but every individual finger grips Tony's hand tightly. The shape seems perfect. It's undoubtedly fake, but prosthetics struggle to hold a can of beer these days… that shouldn't be possible. Both hands are gloved, so it's a vague possibility that it was something else? "Ah… it revolved around business." Forge murmurs. "I'm something of a liason for the government at the moment… but if things did not personally affect me, I would definitely tell them to—to leave me alone." More colorful language might have been prepped, there. "My name is Forge. Head of Eagle Plaza. I guess I am technically your #1 government contract competitor, so this might be more awkward than I thought… I knew Howard, though. We had an… arrangement."
*
Tony's curiosity is piqued enough by the hand to actually listen. That is, until he hears 'Government', 'Howard', and 'Arrangement'. His smile fades and he takes on a more serious expression, "I see. We should probably step into…" well, crap. Where can they go that's private. "Let's take a little walk…" up a few flights of stairs to one of the intact conference rooms. He gestures towards one of the stairwells and starts to head towards it. "I wasn't aware that we had any government contracts at the moment. I thought I ripped them up oh, a year ago or so. So I'm not sure that there's competition, but always happy to meet another in the field." Maybe. "Want anything to eat? I can send out for something. You ever have sushi? There's this one place in Chinatown…"
*
Given the way Forge doesn't exactly meet Tony's gaze, it's probably not his favorite topic, either. He walks after at a fair clip, adjusting the grip upon his briefcase. "No, you don't. I meant for the past decades… I guess most would be happy for all the extra work. What few you had expired. Obviously, they have sent plenty of people since, but I bet they never reached your door… I'm in a somewhat worse situation to rebuke them forever, though. Sadly." The latter word seeming very genuine. "Sushi? No… I haven't." Not an expression of interest. Tony can tell immediately, though. Forge is a complete newbie. He has none of the normal presence of a CEO, and is almost meek for someone in his position. A wolf and a cub.
*
Whether or not Tony reads the disinterest in the idea of sushi…or if he cares, is left unknown. He stops someone as they pass, heading towards the conference room on the fifth floor, "Have some sushi picked up for us." He then looks to Forge, "It's fish." That said, he continues up the stairs, "In the past decades, most were my dad." Until he took over, went to Vietnam, and then came back and cancelled all weapons orders. It was quite the news for a little while. "Did they send people? Huh. But you got through…bravo!" because that is apparently some sort of accomplishment. "Do you -like- making weapons?" Not even a 'why are you here?' yet.
*
"I know what sushi is." Forge retorts lamely. Although him getting through is mostly because Violet didn't know his real reason for coming here. Otherwise she'd have made sure he never made it in the door with the endless rescheduling. He's certainly not tenacious enough to bother with that kind of hassle! "Do I like it?" He seems to be asking himself, mostly. Continuing to follow, a bit closer than is probably socially polite. "That's a difficult question to answer. I like the process of creating them, yes. Inventing is like breathing to me. It is natural. It feels right. But I believe your question was more aimed at what they get used for?"
*
Tony hops a few steps ahead, personal bubble and all. "I know what weapons get used for. I can assure you, I'm not the idiot some make me out to be. But no, my question was really 'Do you like making things knowing that they will most likely kill innocent people?' I mean, if we're going to be crystal clear about it." That part's bluntly stated at least. "Do you like making items of destruction? I mean, there are options."
*
Forge hurries after, although it's not too difficult to maintain some elbow room. "I do not believe you are an idiot. Your father certainly wasn't. Given you are not estranged, I imagine you inherited the majority of his principals." Although he is silent for long moments on the following question. "Do I like making items of destruction? That is simple. No. My personal research at the moment is involved in third-world improvements. Agriculture, clean water, medicine. But I have developed a somewhat more broad belief in how the world and politics work, perhaps." He huffs out a breath. "Which actually is much of what I wanted to talk about, honestly. I understand you had an incident in Vietnam, and afterwards left the weapons business?"
*
"My father and I differ greatly on our principles. I have some." They might not be entirely estranged, but they aren't close as evidenced by Tony's statement. "So, you're not here to talk about Government contracts or weapons. Now I'm curious." Finally, in the middle of the stairwell between floors three and four, he pauses and sits on the landing. "What are you here for, Mister…Forge, was it?"
*
There's definitely a surprised lift of the brows at Tony's statement. That makes his discussion rather harder than he had hoped, potentially. "…well, sort of. It's business in two ways." Beginning to walk past Tony, almost bumping him with the briefcase, the sudden stop is obviously disorienting. "Er… huh? Ah. Well. …now that you have declined all future contracts, I'm under severe pressure to accept more contracts. And ones with larger scale, which is personally difficult. Eagle Plaza has two people. Me, and my secretary. Not quite the enterprise you and your father have here." Ugh, that's not the way he wanted to phrase that, but what's done is done. "The other is… because of Iron Man. I'm fascinated by it. I can count on one hand the people in this world who would be able to do such, outside myself. You are the most recent addition, so…"
*
"My father is no longer affiliated with Stark Industries. He has the last name. Nothing else," Tony corrects that from the get-go. He rests his elbows on his knees and listens to the other's conundrum. "You can also say 'no' to the government contracts if you don't want them. I'm not going to create weapons so that they can just barge in there and indiscrimately kill people who may not actually be guilty of anything. I saw that enough." Never again if he can help it. An eyebrow lifts, "So you made an appointment to talk to me about Iron Man?" That strokes his ego just the right way, actually.
*
"Okay, okay. I didn't mean any offense. Sorry, didn't know." This isn't going as well as he had hoped, and his expectations were pretty reserved. "Listen, I…" After a moment, Forge shakes his head. "You know, let's save the other business for after. Yes. Iron Man. I'm a bit tech savvy myself." He then reaches up and pulls off his left glove. A metal hand and forearm is visible. Perfectly segmented, and he rotates it around with fingers splaying to show off the degree of articulation. "This is one of them." He then pats his briefcase. "The other is in here." But he looks somewhat uncomfortable now. "Do you… want me to open it out here, or…"
*
"I knew it!" Tony exclaims as the metal hand and forearm is revealed. Although…"Have to say that all of this mess," he gestures around, "Was from a guy with a metal arm. About your age maybe…" he scrutinizes the other, "But wasn't you. So you're off the hook. Mostly." He might also be joking some. "So what, is this a glove?" He gets up so that he can take the metal hand and look over it, "Is there another body part in the briefcase?"
*
"Yeah, I heard about that… sorry to hear." Forge looks fairly suspicious for someone innocent for some reason, but it's still almost definitely surely maybe not him. "No, it's—" The yank reveals the hand is very much attached. "A prosthetic. My leg is one, too." His right hand knocks on his left leg, making a thunk-thunk-thunk. If Tony still wants to look over his hand while it remains on, he doesn't seem to mind. Pneumatics is likely the first thing that would come to mind, but it's not. "The briefcase has something more… sensitive. But I believe you are working on something similar. The next phase of my prototype energy cell. There's one in my arm and leg, too. They are first generation, but given they only need to run motors, there's not much need to upgrade them. Well… the arm has some tricks, but… I've never had to use them since they were installed…"
*
The hand is looked at for a little longer before his attention goes to the leg, "Why are you not in prosthetics, man? You'd make a fortune! Think of all the woulded vets from World Warr II and the Korean War…do you know what they'd be able to do with prosthetic hands or legs or arms like this?" He then gestures for the other to follow him up the last flight and a half of stairs towards that conference room. "They're your work?" Tony asks of the prosthetics, even looking behind to see how the man is climbing all the stairs with a fake leg. "And I'm working on a lot of things at the moment…"
*
"Because it's not exactly able to be mass produced. It must be tailored to the individual. It'd take days, maybe a few weeks. And it requires invasive surgery." He grips and twists his arm at a key spot, detaching it. Showing a base. where multiple plugs seem to go in from the arm. "It's attached to each tendon, with sensors to detect muscle contraction. Sure, it's as good as the original for doing things, but… it's not as simple as that…" He re-attaches it with a wince and loud click. When he follows, there's absolutely no sign of a limp or any impediment. Although the glove is still pulled back on to cover his metal hand. Less questions if people assume it's real. "My personal work, yes. Mostly miniaturization for the prosthetics. The power core I just started with nuclear fission. I'd not call it safe enough for mundane use, but. Hopefully it can be a starting point for something good."
*
"You might be surprised at what some would be willing to go through to walk again…or hold their kid's hand." Tony's actually serious for a moment but then the prosthetic is removed and he's able to get a better look the innards. What he wouldn't give to take that apart! "Incredible…" and he doesn't use that often.
Once they're inside the conference room, he closes the door behind him and gestures to the table before choosing a seat for himself. "So the prosthetics are powered by nuclear power?" Ok, that could be one reason they're not ready for the public. "Ok, show me what you brought. It's kind of like Christmas!"
*
"I know." Forge states, bitterly. "I know exactly what it would mean. But I found out very fast that I can't help everyone. I could make a difference, a GREAT difference, for individuals… but my gift's larger than that. I can't… be selfish. I want to make a better world." Definitely a miserable expression. Probably not a torment that's exactly settled fully. Settling in a seat, Forge then pops open the suitcase. "Nuclear power, yes. There's a risk of radiation leak if ruptured, but the reaction is too small to really do much else." A wire frame and mounting is taken out first. And then… well. It might be a touch hard to follow. A few dozen intricate components are put together in almost a literal blur, wires plugged in here and there, before at last a golfball-sized metal orb. "Here we go." He flicks it on, and there's a hum. An attached device shows the energy output; it's considerable. It could probably power a vehicle, if not very fast. It's slid over for Tony to investigate. There's a lot going on, though. It couldn't exactly be called /sloppiness/, but Forge has made a number of engineering decisions that are not particularly intuitive, and make it much more complex than it needs to be. It'd probably need to be thoroughly dissected to get to the bottom of it. "I use a circulating power network. That's the part I am proud of. Basically, the reaction is stable when the feedback loop is stable. It only creates more power when power is used. So… maybe like a battery. Instead of putting out a ton of power, not all of which is used. I'm not sure how long it'd last with minimal output, but I imagine quite a damn long time."
*
Tony does most certainly investigate the device that was put together. He notes where it could be streamlined, where it's overly complex, "A personal project as well?" He doesn't exactly poke at it as he's not sure he should with a bare finger, but he does flick it on and off again as if that will help him understand it better. "What happens if it gets unstable? Does that happen? Does it just turn off? What made you think of this? And I'm curious as to if this has something to do with Iron Man?" Dark eyes then look over to the older man, "What sort of weapons are you building?"
*
"If it gets unstable, the fission fails. It needs to be restarted, which is by far the hardest part of the whole ordeal. Once it's sparked, it's mostly fine. It's a very fragile process, which I did on purpose. I have some… experience in… volatile nuclear reactions." He's got a thousand yard look there for quite awhile. "I figured nuclear power was the best manner to power the future. I wanted to start small. It's safer that way. If I get it working the way I want, I can scale it up. …the problem is, it only works because it IS small. It'd take hundreds or thousands of these to power a city… that's just not worth it. I'm afraid it's a dead end. In the application I wanted, anyway." He then lifts his left hand. "Why it made me think of Iron Man… is this."
Suddenly his hand glows with bright energy. And then there's a FLASH. A beam of energy flows through the air. Then hits the opposite wall, exploding fiercely enough to shake the table. About a meter-sized dent is in place.
Forge is very quiet. "…I did not mean to do that." he murmurs, looking over his hand. "I thought I had set a triggerable throttle, so it would only go a few meters at most… but… oh. Huh. It overloaded. …I should have tested this first…" He sits, prim and proper. "…I'll pay for that."
*
"You wanted this…and nuclear power, to power a city?" Interesting. Very interesting. He almost strokes his chin as he considers the little apparatus. That is, until the man's metal hand glows and a blast of energy hits the wall of the conference room. "Never liked that wall anyhow," is murmured before he looks back to Forge. "No side effects from the reaction, huh? Nothing yet? Stay there…" He ducks out of the conference room for a good five minutes or so before returning with a geiger counter. It's set up and turned on quickly so that he can check the radiation of the device, Forge's hand and leg, and then the man himself. "I think I know why it overloaded if you have it set up like your little reactor here," he nods to the device on the table. "It's an easy fix. I think."
*
Forge looks utterly chastened, all the same. He remains obediently, and the geiger counter doesn't seem to be picking up anything out of the ordinary. If rubbed directly on the round orb in the assembled device, it blips enough to confirm that there's some reaction going on. It seems Forge has developed a way to transfer only the energy itself. "This is sort of a brute force approach… this wasn't ever intended to be a weapon. More for personal defense… It can also do this." He flexes his fingers, spreading them. This time the glow assembles a shield of scintillating power. A perfect disc, with a slowly rotating nimbus. If touched, it's uncomfortably hot, but otherwise repels attempts to go through it. He deactivates it after. "Consider them side projects. I suppose they could be used for more vigilante methods, but… I've not got a lot of interest in that. More to keep my stuff out of the wrong hands…" A pause. "Really, I'll pay for that."
*
Tony waves the offer of payment away. It's nothing and they're already re-doing a chunk of the building. What's a little more spackle and paint? "Ok. Next question: Why are you making weapons?" When he's making things like these and hoping for 'larger picture' applications, why do something so defensive? The shield is looked at for a moment, poked at for another before he says simply, "I want that."
*
"Why? Because that's the way this world works, Tony. I can only make small quantities of things. And do you know who will pay out the ass for that? The Government. I'm sure they disassemble and reverse-engineer everything I get them in order to integrate what they can. Or maybe I'm supplying more elite soldiers with items. Long story short, I get paid. Paid enough to try to make it up elsewhere. Because you know what changes in this world if I don't? Nothing. Just like what you're doing. The government's just going to find new people, less REPUTABLE people, and finance them. People who might use that money to fund coups, guerillas, insurgents on the side!"
He leans forward then, expression serious. "You aren't doing anything but making yourself feel better. Ultimately, I trust that most of what I make is helping this nation. There's going to be a war, mark my words. I've seen it. I helped make this damn landscape that we're in with my own hands. If your goal is to make sure no innocent is ever hit with a Stark Industries logo, then you made your choice. But the global bodycount of innocents harmed is sure as hell not going to be lower."
He lets out a sigh at that. "The reason I compete with Stark Industries… competed… is my singular items are higher quality. But they want bulk. Lots of bulk. I can't give it to them, which means they are going elsewhere. People you don't want with generous manufacturing budgets."
*
"Then it's up to us to stop them." It's said as easily as that. Maybe he's an optimist, maybe he's just that confident or maybe he's just that determined. "You didn't see what I saw in Vietnam. I hope no one does. It's more than just not having Stark Industries produce the weapons. I know the Government is going to go to whomever will make it fastest and cheapest. I know that this won't stop them…believe me, I'm still approached by government and international agencies to help. But -I- choose what I make. And yeah, it might be making myself feel better, but I fully believe that in the long run, we can actually make a difference. Why do you think Iron Man does what he does? It's not about protecting the Government's ass, I'll tell you that. Hell, I'd go against them if that's what needed to be done." At least McCarthyism has passed…mostly.
He looks again at the device on the table before tilting his head at Forge, "So…what? You want me to take some of those contracts from you? You want me to hire you? What?"
*
"Don't talk like I don't understand!" Forge states, with sudden emotion. He slams a fist on the table and stands up. "I was in World War 2. The front lines. I was a Sergeant. I lost every man! Every man who trusted me died because of me!!" He slowly exhales and thumps heavily back in his chair. "And I was on the Manhattan Project. I helped drop those nukes on Japan. I've got more blood on my hands than you ever will. Not a one of those people deserved it. But it was the /greater good./ Because even more would have died, far more, if they weren't stopped then and there."
"I want you to stop being damn naive. If you resumed your contracts, you can account for every penny. You can make sure the weapons get where they are supposed to. Used for what they are intended. The only reason I can imagine you are like this is since you really were naive. You didn't know what war was. Well, there's no winners in it. But it's not going away. At least you are in a position to guide it as responsibly as you can, like I am."
He's quiet after that. "And honestly, I'm goddamn jealous. You don't NEED the government to get by, Tony. I do. I've got no public income. No patents. Nothing. If they pull the rug out from under me, then I can't do anything. Impressive gadgets mean shit to people, if you can't make one for every home. That's not what sells, and you know it."
*
Tony Stark is quiet for a long moment after Forge finishes his speech. "You're awfully trusting in the government…that they'll use what you make for the purposes that they tell you. My experience is different. They tell you one thing and turn around and do something else and then -you-, not they, are held accountable. You were on the Manhattan Project. What if they took that and, instead of dropping it on Japan, they dropped it on Germany and Italy as well? That would have taken out half of Europe. Maybe more. Once it's out of our hands, we can't control what they do with it and that's where things go ass-backwards. Hell, even SHIELD has tried to get me to build weapons for them and I have a better reason to trust them over other agencies."
He shakes his head, "Maybe I am a little naive but I know that there's more to focus on than warfare. If this is about money," he pauses before offering, "Come work for me. You'll get to work on your energy project. Hell, you can lead it. Finding a way for clean energy to power more than a lightbulb," he nods to the device on the table. "I can help you streamline it because this is a little bit of a mess, but we can get something going. Something that isn't weapons and there are no rugs to be pulled."
*
"Maybe. We're in different positions. I never left the Military. I've been in R&D my whole adult life. They DO trust me. But you're an outsider. A civilian. Maybe they did mistreat you… I don't know. But if they've betrayed me, they've hidden it well enough I never found out." As for that… "They couldn't. We only made two nukes. And yes, we held our breath. If the first one stopped the war, what about the second nuke? But then the war ended. And they weren't used again. …That might change. The Soviet Union, god help us, might make that change."
Of course, Forge looks a little surprised by the follow-up offer. "I…" He scratches the back of his head. "I did open up Eagle Plaza for… public contracts. If you want to fund my energy project, then we can work out the paperwork…" He disassembles his device and puts it back in his suitcase. "And if your help means I can turn away more government contracts, then I guess I'll have to. I just wouldn't have the time, would I?"
He shakes his head, before extending his right hand this time. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Stark. You are… different then your father. He was like me. Maybe that's my sin. Not changing the status quo." Before he turns to leave, he points at the wall. "And if that's not taken out of my research fund, I'll tear up the contract." Before he marches out the door, likely having to bump through some alarmed people who came to investigate the sound…
*