[X] To be a Genius is to Suffer : You'll attend personally with Pepper, and you'll just have to deal with the walking ego that is Reed Richards, plus the entourage that he inevitably brings along. At least Henry Pym will be there, a foremost expert on miniaturization that might be very interested in your technology, and perhaps other big names.
[X] Arc Reactor Mk1 - Safe Mode [Energy] : Building in a safety algorithm will ensure that the reactor, either your own or mass-produced ones, won't be easily used as explosives or for other transparently nefarious reasons. Although a false alarm might occur on occasion, it's much better to have a car or two short out than to deal with Afghanistan again. As a relatively simple software upgrade, this should affect all previously built models as soon as they are within range of a Stark-affiliated wireless network, e.g. approximately 80% of the globe.
(Sorry for the delay, I was rather busy. I'll be adding the industrial-scale reactor to the next time you have tinkering time.)
XXXXXXXXXX
"Honestly, I'm the only one who even has these things, why do I bother?" You sighed as you twisted the floating hologram of the arc reactor around, more out of amusement than for any real purpose. On six screens that were arranged side-by-side, Jarvis was adjusting code at speeds that even you could not keep up with. "Safety concerns, right? Pfft."
"I see now there is a reason why the quality control and security departments tend to be less than pleased by your visits," Jarvis remarked coolly.
"God, Jarvis, you're starting to sound like Pepper. And me. Some horrible, horrible combination." You shuddered. "Anyway, I get the reasoning here, but making sure stuff does
not blow up is just untrod territory. Who sees the energies involved here, the sheer power, and then just goes 'let's constrain the hell out of it'?"
"It seems to be the general attitude behind power plants, sir. It is the effective difference between the nuclear power station and atomic bomb."
"And which one of those is more badass?" You glanced up, huffing in annoyance. "Anyway, if people used my stuff correctly, maybe they wouldn't need five different safeguards to make sure it doesn't blow up in their faces. Honestly, I'd hardly be surprised if some unfortunate schmuck decided to take a nibble out of one of my grenades and blew his face off - but that'd be their own stupid fault then, wouldn't it?"
"I would avoid mentioning such things to members of the board, sir. It might jeopardize your position."
You shrugged. "Fair enough, they did seem a little standoffish." You stood, looking over your model of the new arc reactor upgrade with a critical eye. "How's the next pass looking, anyway? I'm not waiting around for perfection here, I don't have the time for that - but a patchwork solution will do for now. Anyone but me tamper with my reactors, and they fuse together into a useless clump of metal. I can get a more hardware-level limit built in when I have some time for that." You nodded, then frowned. "Any idea on what kind of blast you'd get from one of these, anyway?"
"Unknown, though certainly significant. I cannot be certain without a practical test, due to uncertainties in how the final design affects energy distribution."
You nodded. "Hmm, maybe later then. Perhaps we can implement the hardware-level stuff on the big, industrial model, and leave my miniature ones without them? That sounds good." You paced through the Garage, sighing. "For now, I guess I'll just update these ones manually - don't want to risk having an open connection for people to hack, anyway."
"That would seem prudent."
"Hm. If I'm gonna go hardware, though, I honestly need a new factory - I can't think of any that have the specs that would be necessary..." You smiled. "What do you think, bots? Want to try out some new homes, later?"
Dum-E waved its single arm from across the room, jerking fitfully and in dire need of oiling. Butterfingers wasn't in line of sight, but you could hear its servos whirring as well from elsewhere.
"It would be nice to have a new place, sir," Jarvis acknowledged.
"I have been feeling a bit cramped."
"You are the house, Jarvis - how can you feel cramped?" You smiled warmly. "You know, I'll make you a proper mobile platform one of these days," you promised with a raised eyebrow. "Then you can go make the neighborhood unsafe, at least. Not sure if Dum-E or Butterfingers should get one - they're bad enough at controlling what they have now."
The bot whirred in protest.
"You know I'm right, don't you?"
The metal figure's pitiful whine was downright adorable, and you were desperately glad Pepper wasn't around to see that little interaction. It was entirely too cutesy for your image.
"I guess you already know, Jarvis, but I'm going away for a few more days. Vegas - not too far. I kinda wish I hadn't said yes - Pepper's already far too excited for something that's basically a meet-and-greet for blow-hards…" You let the sentence hang as you pack up. "I'll be back for a bit in the morning, but after that - well, you know how to entertain yourselves."
"Certainly. 2001 : A Space Odyssey is due to air tonight."
You rubbed your forehead tiredly. "Ah. Don't let it get to the bots' heads, alright?"
"Of course not, sir."
As you stepped out of the door and up the narrow staircase to ground level, you heard Jarvis' distant voice, crooning out words that were just above hearing range.
"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do…"
XXXXXXXXXX
"Stop fidgeting, Tony!" Pepper muttered as she adjusted her dress - a rather lovely ruby-red one that he swore you'd never seen before, though Pepper's stink-eye when he brought that up would suggest otherwise.
You'd not really thought about wearing anything special to a get-together of nerds, and the neat suit that Pepper had brought felt unfamiliar, constricting. You'd worn these plenty of times - but that was on the job. This was supposed to be
relaxation.
Honestly, most of what had been on your mind was unrelated to this meeting. You were worried about going on a glorified vacation trip so shortly after returning from captivity, but the board had been more than forthcoming on the issue, when you'd requested a few days off. Between the doctor-prescribed rest and the juicy specs you'd left for them to peruse, it was probably a good idea you didn't show your face too much at the company for a bit. Besides, Rhodey was still busy with his research - your departure would give him some more time to work on that. Perhaps it
was a good moment to take a breather.
You had figured out that the trip wouldn't be terribly much fun right around the time the myriad lights of the City of Sin vanished in the rear-view mirror, and you were dropped off at an austere, but altogether forgettable place, which had some vague historical significance that you had not bothered to read up on. The hall looked rather like a baroque church in some respects, though you were sure every nook and cranny were just as much cardboard and feigned history as the rest of the city.
"I'm not fidgeting here, I'm adjusting my arc reactor," you muttered lowly, frowning. "The new one's still a bit itchy - have to get used to it, I suppose. Besides, I'm people-watching..."
"Well, at least you admit to it," Pepper said with a sigh.
You sniffed. "And you
don't. I saw you checking out that tall guy, you know."
"He was
freakishly tall," Pepper protested with a hiss.
"And yet, you seemed preoccupied with parts that were considerably lower down," you said with a smile, even as you took in the latest arrivals. Some of the people you'd met before, or you at least vaguely recognized them. Most were strangers - either because they were tag-alongs for their more famous companions, or because you'd never cared for their fields of study. Admittedly, you were bored quickly.
There were always the oddballs, though, the people you couldn't quite figure out. This time you spotted one of them across the plaza. There, a rather aristocratic-looking gentleman was gazing out over the arrivals in much the same way you were. Despite a tidy suit, you could see a short red cape fluttering on his back, making the man look entirely too much like Dracula for comfort. The gaudy golden amulet that kept the cape together certainly didn't help matters, either.
Not far from him, looking around with an open curiosity that you vaguely recognized from somewhere, a young man was taking photographs of everyone he came across, even the complete unknowns. You'd written him off as Paparazzi if not for the tact he showed, clearly asking each and every person for their permission. There was such a thing as honest media, in this age?
Your attention was finally diverted as you noticed a redheaded woman leaning against the wall, close to the building. She was speaking to a rather stiff-looking figure that wore sunglasses at night - instantly a douche - and she had the most wonderfully voluptuous -
"Stop that!" Pepper said just as the strange woman's eyes found yours, and you quickly drew your attention back to your own companion. Something eerie ran down your back, a strange feeling of
danger.
"...What is it?" you verbalized, and it seemed your companion took it personally.
"You were practically
drooling," Pepper said with undisguised contempt. "Honestly, didn't you see the guy with her? She has a
boyfriend."
"Fantasies don't hurt anyone," you replied with a sigh, distracted. What was causing that eerie sensation, anyway? It felt rather portentous, and you paused for a moment to consider the issue. Then you closed your eyes in defeat as you heard the scuff of boots behind you tap out an all too familiar rhythm. Only one person was that precise about their footfalls.
"Hello, Reed," you said as you turned.
Reed Richards was an asshole. Well, he was more than that, really. You'd first met the guy in your youth, when you'd crossed paths on multiple occasions during your schooling period. Needless to say, you'd never really gotten along much.
All that was exacerbated, of course, by the interviews the man had given, including several big-name ones that mentioned you by name on multiple occasions. Never in a good light, needless to say. You'd given as good as you got, of course, and the media loved it. By the time the two of you were just slinging mud back and forth, you'd just given up and stopped responding.
That was eight years ago - and you hadn't spoken to the man since. Tempers had cooled, but not by much.
"Ah, Stark," Reed said with feigned surprise, glancing momentarily to the blond woman by his side - you distantly recognized her, though you'd neglected to look up her name. "You're still living on blood money, I hear. How is that working out for you?" He looked you over. "I heard it got you in trouble over that."
"What got me in trouble was being too successful," you ground out, narrowing your eyes as familiar anger surged back, and indignation. You could take a lot from people - but a few got under your skin without effort. "What about you, Reed? Last I heard, you were hunting down yet another research grant, since your investors keeps bailing on you. Wonder why that is?" You paused dramatically. "Actually - what
have you accomplished recently?"
"Plenty." Reed rolled his eyes. "Knowing you, you've kept track of every publication I put out anyway. So you're well ware that the first test flight's due in three months -"
"Ah. Is that a test flight for the thrice-cancelled-and-revived spaceplane you were working on in college?" You smiled thinly at his grimace. "My, this time you might actually finish it! Perhaps you'll finally live up to that nickname of yours - what did you go by again?" You glanced to Pepper, who looked rather torn between amusement and horror. "Mister Fantastic, was it? You were rather full of yourself. I doubt that's changed."
"Yes, I was talking about the spaceplane," Reed said simply, his expression thunderous, and you couldn't help feeling a gleeful at that admission of annoyance. "My invention will be on the cover of every magazine - unlike your fancy bombs, Stark. Only the military is enamored with your penchant for horrific violence." He shook his head slowly. "Such a waste of investment…"
"I'm sure that's what the people cured of polio said," you argued, and though you felt Pepper tug on your hand, you couldn't disengage now. Not when Reed was right there, a conveniently punchable face that was very blase about bring up painful topics at the best of times. "Remember, Richards - military funding was what got Stark Industries so close to eradicating that disease."
"You had no hand in that," Richards objected easily - because of course he did. He would not back down, and neither would you. "That's all someone else's work. You just supplied the grant money that you seem to deplore so much."
You snorted. "Do you say that to Bill Gates, too? Anyway, I made that money with my own work. While you have been away resurrecting doomed projects, I've been busy. You've been at this space thing for two years now - and you're still months from launch. Give me free reign over the kind of funding you somehow have control over, and I'd do it in a
week."
"Reed." The blonde at his side grimaced. "Should you really be doing this in -"
"A week, huh?" Reed asked disbelievingly, waving her aside. "I'd like to see you try. Ah, I get it - it'd be a missile, no doubt."
You grinned victoriously at that. "Newsflash, genius - rockets are glorified missiles. Or don't you remember how the Redstone got started? Those crafty Germans..."
"You and your missiles. That explains your enthusiasm at least," Reed said. "And I'm sure you'll pay for that with your blood money too. Kill a few people to save a few people, is that how it goes in your world?" He shook his head. "I guess a lack of conscience must be freeing."
"It's called working
smart, Reed. You should try it."
Reed groaned. "For someone so happy to play up his intelligence, you keep forgetting we have ways to compare such a thing. Remember?" His eyes gleamed with merriment. "What were those IQ results again, Susan?"
You scoffed. "IQ is not an accurate measurement of intelligence - I thought you'd be smarter than that," you stated strongly. "Besides, it was only a few points difference."
He laughed at that. "You say that now, Tony. You weren't so careful before we had the test, were you? 'I swear, I'm smarter than you - and I'll demonstrate it!'
Please."
"Intelligence is nothing if it's not used for practical purposes," you muttered. "And it hardly matters, anyway. Dr. Pym is smarter than either of us."
Reed blinked. "Oh my, Stark! You put yourself somewhere else than number 1? Are you feeling alright?"
"Hardly. I am, after all, in your presence." You shuddered. "I'm surprised nobody's gagging."
There was a tense silence.
"...They really are like a bickering old couple," you heard someone mutter from the side, and something like revulsion flashed across Reed's face, doubtlessly mirrored with your own. "They're so alike…"
"We are not," you said, echoed in the same breath by Reed.
The reporter kid you'd seen before took a picture right then.
Well, you'd walked right into that one.
XXXXXXXXXX
You have enough time before seminars start to speak to a couple people.
(Note: you will get a chance to speak to at least one additional person later on.)
Choose Two
[ ] Reed Richards : Your little verbal sparring attracted some attention, but honestly you'd enjoyed it more than you cared to admit. Reed was an ass - but he was a smart ass. Loathe as you were to admit it, perhaps the feud between you was at least partially your fault. Reed's expertise when it comes to many varied disciplines, plus his more recent forays in spaceflight, might make him a useful resource.
[ ] Henry 'Hank' Pym : You haven't seen him yet, but Henry was the one who gave you an invitation, so it's probably nice to go and have a word in thanks. As an expert in miniaturization, it's pretty likely that Pym's got a lot to offer when it comes to small-scale applications of your technologies, ideal for mobile use.
[ ] The Woman : Yowza, you can't quite get miss good-lookin' off your brain, and you keep trying to find her in the crowd. Whether or not the guy with her was a boyfriend, you were pretty sure you could charm your way into her good graces. Who knows…?
[ ] The Caped Figure : Who wears a little red cape, anyway? Ever? You're intrigued, and since you haven't actually seen the man before, he might have expertise in pretty much anything, even fields so esoteric you haven't even thought of them yet.
[ ] The Reporter : The reporter is still hanging around, and he's probably aiming to ask for permission to use the photo he made of your little fight with Richards - a rookie mistake for someone from the paparazzi. Although you're doubtful the reporter would have much to add as far as technology went, having an in with the media that's not a total shill might be worth a lot.
[ ] Just Mingle : Just wander around, and see who you bump into. Chances are you'll randomly meet any of the above, but you might run into one or two people that you hadn't considered yet, and who might have different things to offer.
[ ] Write-In : Any reasonably relevant character who would have a good chance at showing up, please.
