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Lilian Rook     As per Tony's suggestion, the 'consultation' takes place somewhere that one could get coffee. Not some random Starbucks, as overwhelmingly common as they seem to be in most places, since that's for students and people who use Apple computers. Somewhere pretty upscale. Too upscale by far to call a diner, despite serving a pretty reasonable variety of food. Something like a 'morning restaurant', for people too rich and uninterested in cooking to eat breakfast at home, or who consider themselves 'on the go'. Sort of like a hotel restaurant but not mediocre.

    The pristine street outside is surprisingly lively. There's a pleasant micro-park between a three way intersection, in the famous English style of 'roundabout', though very few cars. None of the ubiquitous social security cameras actually point through the windows, and the shop itself has none inside either, apparently feeling no need, but that in of itself being a selling point. It's less busy inside, with a lot of empty tables and booths, though it's late enough into the morning that most people have already moved on, and the few around are groups of friends having an exceptionally casual time, or indeed realtors, financial advisors, and others of the stripe wrapping up meetings with clients.

    The era of kale and avocado is over. It's all actually pretty traditional, harkening back to an era where 'heart disease' was associated with lead poisoning rather than cholesterol. It makes for a nicely readable menu, despite the new wave of inscrutable fad imports from southeastern Europe and China. The tables also have neat little smart devices in the middle to poke at and bring up projections of news media to cycle through, finance data, various articles and talk pieces, pop science, and some basic 'plug a drive in and display the contents' tactile functionality, like the entry level Apple laptop version of what Tony works with.

    Lilian has a bag, which is rare. In of itself, more like a small messenger bag with a strap rather than a purse of any kind, apparently fallen out of fashion. She's used it to carry a stack of papers, a thumb drive, a cigar box-sized hard case with a polymer seal between the flip locks that indicates it's airtight. She also has coffee.
Tony Stark Tony Stark is a man that can arrive in any fashion he pleases, and in fact arrives exactly in the way that will either be most convenient or most annoying for others. Generally this works out to be 'getting doughnuts or diner food in a trillion dollar piece of hardware'. Today appears to be an exception to that rule, a local town car rolling up with the tinted back windows hiding the occupant until he strides out once the car has slowed to a smooth stop.

To the casual onlooker, Tony looks like he's dressed to the nines - designer sunglasses, dark blue suit with silver vertical striping with matching slacks, gunmetal tie with silver tie-clip that glows near the center of his chest, white shirt, black socks and black 'neat' oxfords.

To anyone of society, it is a statement somewhere in the region of 'respectfully dressed casual for meeting someone Equally Of Means in a public place'. An outfit to be Seen In, while being seen.

The twinkle of the door chime is his only entrance greeting. That, and a smirking quirk of the brow.

Sliding into the chair opposite of Lilian, Tony reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, placing a smartslate - a rubber 'grip' around a pane of glass covered in colors and lights - atop the table, "face" down.

"Please tell me they do decent steak and eggs here. Bacon? Eggs benedict? Potato pancakes? I can't place the ethnicity I should be going for, so just order a pile of whatever's good."

His smirk becomes a smile. "You seem ready, Rook. It's not like you're presenting before the Board."

His phone warbles. "Actually, Sir, she is. You made me the CEO of Stark Enterprises, unless you've forgotten." Jarvis chimes in, the picture of a british gentleman seneschal.

"Don't sass the woman, Jarvis."
"Of course sir. Miss Rook - a pleasure."
Lilian Rook     Tony not arriving in the most dramatic and difficult to deal with, or contrarily, underwhelming and embarrassing, is not lost on Lilian. Even Doctor Strange had picked up a hint of that annoying habit, making 'taking him anywhere' a rough proposition. It's not *actually* a business dinner, but that'd been the idea, and one to which Lilian paid a far amount of heed, so it's reassuring that she isn't receiving company in a tracksuit. She lets him have an airy little wave upon entering, immediately flagging down her booth, and gesturing towards the open seating. "Steak and eggs it is." she says.

    She doesn't have nearly the same level of corporate chic going on, but easily enough class that she looks like the client to a Stark consultation here. She glances to his phone with a hint of surprise when Jarvis briefly takes iniative, though she doesn't let it stop her. "Charmed. I don't think 'we've' really spoken before, have we?" She doesn't stay on that point for long though. "Believe my, I'm very much appreciative of having neither a board nor shareholders to answer to."

    "I understand that both are typically morons who expect to be showered in profits while you also take no risks or do anything new. Such is the typical nature of people who throw money at an enterprise they aren't in themselves, and expect to be paid back."

    She flags down the help to place an order, and then when he leaves, claps her hands quietly together. "There's no point in leaving the materials at home, right? Anything I tell you, you'd look up for yourself regardless. Anything I'd have you find, you'd try to synthesize yourself. Am I wrong? Why not save the effort?"
Tony Stark Jarvis is asked a question by the pretty lady. With a chipper deference, he responds. "We have not. The pleasure is mine, miss Rook. Mister Stark's normal ride-along is my 'sister', Friday. In matters of personal health and wellness, however, Mister Stark looks to me."

Tony has a just-a-hair-past-smug 'well there it is' look on his face as he crosses his arms. "Friday is built for data aggregation, tactical analysis, medical triage, and energy optimization. Too many features and subprocesses, you lose height for width."

The comment on boards and directors draws an amused chuckle. "You're not wrong. I had to buy back a lot of airtime before I could let Jarvis run the show, but it was worth it. Which brings me to my first question."

The server is pestered for 'like a whole pot of coffee and a big ol' hash brown' extra, and he gestures across the table at Lilian's bag shortly after. "What do you expect to get, Lilian? Being the angel investor and all. But you're entirely right - I'd try."
Lilian Rook     "I have to congratulate you, Mister Stark, for being the first person to ever give me a good reason to engage in stock buybacks." Lilian replies in a way that is simultaneously coy and dry, leaving that delicate intonation to vie with eyes full of almost-sarcasm. "Needless to say, there are plenty of reasons I don't invest my money in the venture capital model; granted, I have the option not to, so I can't blame you for exploiting what was right there on the table." She then takes her time with her coffee, just enough to pass on the breakfast order to a waitress, without it being rude. The smell is a little unfamiliar, vaguely spiced with something that's neither seasonal nor based on high fructose corn syrup.

    "Would you be satisfied if I said my return is a close working relationship with an esteemed colleague who specializes in all sorts of things that are much more difficult to find than glorified police officers, mercenaries, and or petty magicians?" she says after a moment of quiet. This time it's purely facetious, just short of laughing, albeit seemingly not insincere. "Well, besides that, I have my own 'investments' in the Human Template Origin model, as a bleeding edge theory with recent, considerable interest in high circles. As you may be aware, one side of my family is a spearhead contributor in the field. Avant garde stuff. I wouldn't make her ego too big by saying 'a genius', but still. Convincing people who could hold up to high critical standing, but who have low 'mystical status', to adopt the foundation's proprietary iteration on the traditional 'casual entry product', and then show big results, would be a sharp, immediate boost in speculative patronage. Tangible and intangible."

    "Of course I don't mean *experimental*." she quickly adds. "I couldn't convince you to be a guinea pig if I tried. I do, however, mean not available at market, in the broadest sense. I know you're a man with little to no patience for traditional methods that take hours out of your day, every day for years, to see a payoff, or the tried and true accelerated options with unreliable and turbulent results. I think you, a one of a kind genius and visionary, top of his entire planet, but an undeniable product of the twenty first century businessman origin with not even the slightest mystical refinement to speak of, would make huge waves for attaining the White Jewel in a period of maybe months. The research isn't all that valuable, even when it's finished and refined, if all you can show for it is taking an uninteresting person and making them a talentless technically-Enlightened."
Tony Stark "Stock buybacks are a sword against the investor class getting uppity. They serve on the board at my blessing. When they voted unanimously to not have JARVIS as the CEO of my company, they unanimously lost that blessing."

Tony's words come easily, the epitome of a showman's tone and a salesman's spirit - but the hard edge that he grinds against the topic is like a blade against leather.

"The stock price took a hit for my peace of mind. It's just a number." He shrugs, like his apparent reaction to the no doubt vast fortunes blown on proving a point to the world.

He is, after all, Anthony 'Iron Man' Stark.

The pitch is solid, and Tony sits back to listen. He nods at the right parts, leans forward to sip at his coffee at others, and there's a distant hungry interest that encourages the words to flow. The left corner of his mouth twigs up here and there, a 'secret smile' that Lilian is free to catch - to read into. It's an encouragement too, and not one entirely put on for show.

"Were you interviewing for a job, and not pitching me a product, I would say that you could have skipped some of the windup. But you've called your pocket and shot, and all the logic checks out. Still."

Tony looks at the pair of droplets chasing each other around the bottom rim of his cup, and goes to pour a refill. "You make it sound like you're selling supplements, Rook. Supplements."

The repetition gives him a chance to have JARVIS pull up a series of displays, feeding them into the media display.

"Mister Stark's personal fitness regimen has, as you've surmised, been worked into other activities. To summarize your objective points: You would like to work with Mister Stark to prove a method of enlightenment works by-"

Tony laughs, anticipating his AI's words and cutting them off. "Breaking the holy triad. You want it cheap, fast, and good. I kind of love it. But there's one thing I don't buy."

JARVIS displays the progression of the tiers from Lilian's world, with Jewel being pointedly small at one end and Tower being the largest at the other. Stark points at Jewel. "That's good for a few months. But neither of us work for kudos and exposure. Let's try to get..."

Stark's finger pans to Blade. "Here, in a year. Then you'll have something to really shut up everyone for years. I've a few ideas to help out with the problem you were having on the radio, as well - something you may be able to help out with."

The display disappears. "Or is that too much to bite off, for now?"
Lilian Rook     Lilian does the closest approximate ladylike thing to a snort at the words 'investor class', with only a thin veneer of it being accidental. Even then, though, she practically glows at Tony's immediate interest. Most of it is the self-evident satisfaction of having pegged and nailed her excessively thought-through approach, but a tiny bit of it really seems like she's happy to receive the approval in of itself.

    "Mmm, I have mixed feelings about the word 'supplements'." She does come down enough to hemm-haww that one on the knife's edge between unconcerned and insistent. "It sounds a little chintzy? Or rather, unambitious. Obviously the intent is to impact your existing busy schedule as little as possible while still obtaining results, but . . ."

    "I suppose the pretentiously correct thing to call it is medicine. Healing the flawed flesh we all get at birth. That's how she puts it."

    Lilian's eyebrows unguardedly raise at the target Tony sets straight away. "I'm impressed, no, excited, by your ambition, but that's a *hefty* target. I myself am at the Crimson station of the Blade. But if you're looking to do more than simply cross the line over into 'the other side', then I'd be more than happy --she'd be more than happy too, I'm sure-- to support you to the fullest. I'd had my concerns that this might be too out of your wheelhouse to be more than a curiosity to put up with to prove a point, but I see you prefer going big as well~"

    She leans her cheek against her fist and recites off "Eighth Code. Thou shalt use the fullest of thy competence at all times, and thou shalt demand the fullest. Thou shalt not accept substitutes, imitations, or shortcuts, from thyself or any other." Just before Tony's food arrives. As expected of anywhere Lilian would invite anyone, despite the simple order, this is the type of place that takes great pride in providing an 'authentic experience' of when this was considered simple food.
Tony Stark "Well if that's not 'retrospective eugenicts, a summary' as a sentence, I don't know what is. However: I did some research on your 'Human Origin' theory, and there does seem to be some merit to the overall theory. Just like there is a broad 'standard for beauty' that there are correct things to do, that we understand instinctively as correct."

JARVIS begins throwing up floating images - the Vitruvian Man, texts about chakras labelled in Sanskrit, diagrams of the body in some germanic text. "Consistencies, in the model. I've been interested in the field myself for personally selfish reasons - living forever would be nice, and all that. It helps that understanding the way nerves function gave me some ideas for data structuring and AI neural networks."

With a clap of his hands, Stark leans back to accept food, and conversation ceases as Tony digs in with singular abandon. Business is not talked during the food.

JARVIS cues some local news to peruse, interspersed liberally with crisis reports and cutting-edge mechanical engineering theory, all floating before Stark's eyes as he stuffs himself like an American on a business trip: like a hungry power-tourist. Even the time he spends eating is augmented, it seems.

Or, it's entirely a show. This becomes more likely as he clinks his silverware back on his plate. "Alright. JARVIS, tech demo please."
"Of course sir. Shall I secure the area?"
"Bells and whistles, please."

The booth area around the pair clinks and clicks as a shimmering bubble rapidly builds itself around them, chrome and hexagonal as it closes around them, before they pulse and ripple, the 'real world' around them being revealed anew, as if through glass.

"A security precaution." Stark offers with a smirk. Bringing up his watch, he taps a few buttons, as metal plates form a 'glove' around his hand. Then, and only then, he pull out a small cylinder about as wide around as his arm from a case at his feet - which he certainly didn't look like be brought in with him. Inside, a crystal structure akin to a bismuth rock candy with opaque oilslick rainbow texture with an inner blue glow.

"This is vibranium. There was about a pallet lot of this stuff found in nothing african nation from a meteor that fell to earth, and stolen by Ulysses Klaue - a murderous gunrunning lunatic warlord."

"It is the most valuable metal on the planet with applications from textiles to ballistics. Vibranium is worth over three hundred times platinum, market, and that's in flasks of dust or shavings or incredibly unrich ore."

He taps the case. "I've discovered a process to create it in my garage. It's the bait I hooked Teledji Adeleji on, and it represents the next word in... Basically everything."

"Just to put this on the table: Cap's shield is made out of an alloy which even I can't crack. A complete failure, scientifically, but it's known as 'adamantium', and that's just *one* alloy."

He leans forward, hand on the top of the container. "So, yes. I think we can go hard, Lilian. If all you wanted was fame and prestige, you'd have picked someone else. You want to make a statement."
Lilian Rook     "Of course there's *merit*." Lilian first says, by way of slightly offended pride that it even has to be said. "I won't be aggrieved that you felt the need to 'read before you buy', so to speak. You are that type, after all. Though, I must say that immortality is such a fundamentally appealing desire that it's hard to call it selfish. The need to persist in the face of crippling entropy and an uncertain and abrupt disappearance is an essential human urge, and recognition of the basic absurdity of the universe in front of us. If it accidentally teaches you to make slinkies in the process, that's fine too." That one's an *obscure* reference.

    Indeed food time is not necessarily talk time, largely for the difficulty of doing both at once. "You know, I can never tell which thing hexagons mean." Lilian says after, though. "Is that an 'unfortuitously overheard' thing? Or a 'crazy rushes out of the crowd and tries to steal the plutonium' thing?" It's probably a little attention-getting, but this is an environment on the opposite end of the gradient from people losing their shit. The real opposite end. The end where people keep their heads emphatically down.

    There's no hiding --and no real attempt made-- the way Lilian receives the explanation of the vibranium, putting her elbows up on the table, lacing her fingers together, leaning forwad, ceasing to blink for ten solid seconds, and making coyly thoughtful noises in conversational pauses. "And how many people know you where you make it? Or that you *make* it at all? That seems a *considerable* edge." she asks. Though there's a naked, fiery glow to her eyes, that same light obscures the configuration of gears behind them. It is, at the very least, very different than the transparent desires of Teledji.

    "Making a statement is what I do." Lilian finally says, in a proudly matter of fact way. "So allow me to brief you on the broad principle." She gesticulates in the direction of the chakras, and the associated writings surrounding it. "The shared DNA of the eastern tradition revolves around the separation of heaven and earth as tiered and gated existences, with steps between. Certain beings are endemic to certain spheres, structured from the top down. As these environments are inhospitable, inaccessible, or outright invisible to human beings, at the lowest orbit of the cosmos, the idea of attaining heavenly knowledge and form, and the associated powers and privileges of a higher being, is oriented towards a principled and ordered cultivation of the self."

    "These practises focus on gradually purifying, strengthening, and transforming the body and mind, using the natural tools available to them. Theories of Wu Xing, Feng Shui, Sutras, Koans, Chakra and Qi alignment, come from principles of accelerating the process through alignment with the natural world, incorporating its existing energies, truths, and cosmic principles in methods harmonious to human growth. It is, after all, a comparatively slow process, emphasizing the paramount importance of discipline, consistency, mindfulness, traditional knowledge and relationships, as well as trial and tribulation, to help the practitioner stick to the path. Otherwise, they'll quickly grow too old and feeble to keep up with it."

    "Life extension especially was a holy grail sought after by endless cavalcades of political figures, chased by ancient sorcerers, and the subject of many otherworldly bargains, though ultimately most often available only to hermits, monks, half-bloods, and extremely powerful priests, astrologers, and sorcerers. It is, however, ultimately a path that anyone can undertake. The younger the better. The more potential the better. But anyone can push their lifespan ahead of their growth speed for a while."
Lilian Rook     "Even then, though, the sway of medicines, elixirs, treasures, and special places, aiding in this process was always undeniably obvious. Though often treading the line of materialistic and unvirtuous, the reality is that few people ever experience the full benefits of that egalitarian promise. Life isn't simple. Unless you retreat to the mountains and become an ascetic for the exclusive purpose of enlightenment, complications will eventually come your way. Disease. War. Dynastic change. Natural disasters. Shifts and schisms in creed and code. Revolution. Finding love."

    "The western take is, comparatively, one of the comprehension and utilization of universal principles in nature, rather than the alignment of emulation of it. Something closer to a science, but most often jealously guarded by the individual, kept apart in fragmentary revelations, moving in irregular leaps and bounds, rather than an iterative and collaborative process. It is, by comparison, not even slightly fair. Information, wealth, access to materials and skilled specialists, upbringing, location, health, means of acquiring those scarce things of dubious existence that so many others want at the same time, and even intrinsic luck. But I'm sure you've heard of, for instance, the philosopher's stone. You don't need any special qualities to make use of it. Nor was King Arthur chosen for some special qualities of his diligence and piety and humble wisdom, but for being the right man in the right place with the right ideas."

    "The ideas of heavenly and earthly separation are similar, but the idea of the 'base substances' of the 'material sphere' being echoes, admixtures, or muddied aftereffects of the higher circles, rather than each thing being created in its proper place, is a point of divergence. The traditional genes follow a similar guiding thread of ascendency through reduction, purification, coalescence, and translation into a more 'true' version of itself, but through the lens of cyclically dissolving the original, identifying its most essential components, and reassembling it with base defects and pollutants, then examining its true nature further through this new perspective. Not 'earning' one's way to each karmic station, and taking on its duties and shedding old vices, like a model cosmic citizen. It's a pursuit of essential truth in knowledge."

    "Our leading theories, like most great ones, combine the essential, successful elements of each, but you should easily be able to guess which one is dominant in where I'm about to take you. A mirror of the Magnum Opus. The idea of transubstantiating the human animal, with all of its parts and tissues and virtues and urges and balances, into something built of progressively more celestial substances, as opposed to taking such balances of chemical components through the twelve stages."

    "This works in alignment with the cyclical idea of the Stations, and the thematic nature of progressing through each one with its own particular needs and focuses, rather than steady, diligent work, the same day to day. You'll primarily be using a large number of proprietary blends and applications of things we've so happened to carefully cultivate our own supply of, through a system of careful monitoring and measurement, and changing routines frequently as dictated by the stages. This will be supplemented by physical and meditative exercises known to enhance the particular effects of these items, and expand your awareness of them and what it is you're essentially trying to grasp. Accelerating from a completely . . . earthly, ground state, may involve some disruption and discomfort, but I trust you and your ingenuity more than up to the task of avoiding danger, if not perhaps even further accelerate the process with agents of your own design."
Tony Stark As Lilian leans forward, hungry for the information about Vibranium, Stark pushes the cylinder forward with a finger, the container rolling across the table. "As far as my world is aware, Stark Enterprises spun off a new branch, Stark Unlimited, with a major interest in space exploration and manned orbital stations. The Iron Legion Program, under Bastion, conveniently got slotted under it. I needed some engineers, so I made some better offers to a few team leads at Lockheed and Boeing--" Tony speaks the names like dirty words. "And made a sizeable grant to NASA to keep the government fat and happy. High power orbital telescopes, manned stations, reusable ground-launch craft. I say it's for resourcing to the media, and it's true, but I don't need a space program to find more vibranium asteroids."

He smirks, a broad shrug. "As far as people know I keep finding the stuff. How lucky. It won't last forever, but when I conveniently find a way to synthesize it before everyone else people will probably shake their fists full, curse my name, and then try to see if I'm peddling the wondermetal. If it didn't make the world's strongest weapons and armor, have almost strictly beneficial mutagenic properties, a host of unique features that I've barely scratched the surface of... I'd probably give it away."

His eyes drop from Lilian's to the cylinder, and do not rise for a few moments. "It'd be the right thing to do. Steve would probably do it."

The glimmering inner light of the rock silently thrums in the shielded cylinder, Lilian's senses pricking even still - the unrefined ore sings even in a silenced chamber.

"I'm a realist. I've seen what ironmongering does to the world. Even if I keep making suits: There's only one Iron Man. I save who I can. And I can't say it's saving people to hand every lunatic Origin-chaser the reins on a god-even-knows supermetal."

But this really isn't a conversation about Vibranium. Tony makes no motions to take the cylinder back from where it comes to wrest against Lilian's leaned-in forearm.

The explanation is... Long, and Tony sits back to appreciate it more. At times, he nods, and others his eyes tighten in thought. One time - just one - he reacts as if a stone-faced monk struck fully across the face.

'Find love'.

Still, he doesn't interrupt the explanation - though like an interviewer, he checks his watch now and then, though the display certainly isn't keeping the time.

While Lilian speaks of various traditions, Jarvis makes soft tweedle-bweeps and holographically projects visual aids, though he doesn't have any for Lilian's own home-grown explanations at the end for the Stations.

"That magic sensor test and your certification exams, then, are the gauge of that process in a unified fashion. You have one exam for both traditions."

"Changes in pressure cause disorientation. I had to design it out of my suits for obvious reasons. Because we're working together on this, I can flip over the rest of the cards I have on my side of the table:"

Tony raises his left watched hand, and snaps his fingers. The halo of projected screens shift to flank him. Pictures are displayed: The Model Prime armor at rest in a machine-cradle. A satellite shot of Lilian's world.

Caeloton.
Tony Stark "I'd like you to help me design the uplift system into my armor itself. I've built versions I can wear all day in various forms, and push comes to shove, the whole thing can be rendered functionally invisible. Anything that can't go in - testing, meditation - can be handled without it, but if it makes me 'not Iron Man', then I can't do it."

"I've been to your world quite a bit, Rook. I've taken a bit of a shine to it... And I think the weapon you need to finally start fighting back is Vibranium. The areas around Wakanda - where the meteor was found - is incredibly lush, but I'm not a biologist or an alchemist. Teledji was my first shot at seeing if the goldfingered Ul'dahn would spin wheat into gold. It was..."

He sighs. This is a Stark few, if any, get to see. "A dead end. Pie-eyed by profits. I don't need profits. If I supply you with Vibranium-"

He gestures at the fourth screen, a replay of the slides prior - Eastern chakra diagrams, the Vitruvian man, etc. - "I really want to see how far it goes. For humanity. For everyone. Turning the tide doesn't take one man, Iron or not. It takes a team."

Tony extends a hand across the table, out, in the classic expectation. "I'd like to avenge your world, Lilian Rook. Care to work together formally?"
Lilian Rook     Even if the reason the pair had gathered here wasn't to discuss vibranium, there is no missing that look in Tony when he bends and contemplates that gleaming, uncanny chunk of rock. Not for Lilian. Not someone who is such dear, intimate frenemies with those thoughts and feelings, forced as they may more often be for her.

    "You know, the first code goes thus: 'Thou art responsible to thy blood first above all else, both the blood of thy line, and the blood shed for thee.' There are a lot of particular meanings behind it. But it comes even before the codes of representing yourself with consistency and authority, treating others with value, and honouring laws in good faith. The fact is, once you've become a certain level of . . . once there are things that only you can do, you have another prime obligation. You take care of yourself. You take care of the people who made you that way. You take care of the people who will pass it down. And you take care of the people whose backs have been the stairs to raise you up."

    "Think of it how you will. A kind of 'secure your mask before aiding others', perhaps. The onus upon oneself to preserve resources for future generations. Conservatorship of what will safeguard and push the species forward. A responsibility to carry forward lessons into the future. The burden of so much trust and faith, blood and sweat, poured together into something greater, which you now carry forward. But the thing is that, for instance, this work that Alison is doing here, supersedes her obligation to be forthright, to be kind, and to pay her metaphorical taxes, where all three of those things concern this work strictly. Everyone knows that."

    "So when you're Tony Stark, you take care of Tony Stark, because where would everyone be without him? Then you take care of the Avengers, because being part of that whole brought him to where he is. Then you take care of Tony Stark's employees, because they've entrusted their futures to him. Only once those responsibilities are fulfilled, does Tony Stark begin thinking about his civil duty to the government, the market, and the 'average joe', as Americans are fond of saying. At least that's what I think."

    On the subject of making into the suit, Lilian is, as far as mages Tony has likely experienced, refreshingly fully in on this kind of unconventional utilization of the technology alongside it, rather than the more typical, mild disgust reaction to 'sullying' the one with the other. "I rather appreciate that idea." she says. "I imagine your machines and digital personalities will inevitably be better at monitoring and micromanaging your state and schedule than you would be; such is the divide between computers and humans." She thinks about it for a second. "There may be other benefits, depending on your medical and processing suites."

    Counting off on her fingers, she continues. "The process works by the twelve stages of the magnum opus. Each non-negotiably takes a week to get through, according to the cyclical significance of the days and their alignments in hermeticism and alchemy. Thus, it isn't so simple as taking two pills before bed, but a rather complex battery of things to constantly change between. As a general rule, your body will be rapidly cycling through its cellular replacement process at a rather extreme rate. This means it'll consume a great deal of calories and fluids, persistently increased core temperature, and likely frequent soreness and fatigue equivalent to exercise or wound healing."
Lilian Rook     "Additionally, consumptive, sensory, and cognitive organs experience periods of heightened sensitivity, depending on the stage. Most of this is common sense; don't overload your stomach with acidic or difficult to digest contents while it's under heavy renovation, abstain for alcohol during liver week, et cetera. You might experience occasional phantom sensations whilst sensory organs are affected. A tap on the shoulder, someone calling your name, vaguely glimpsing a book on a shelf that wasn't there. When the brain is affected last, the typical effect is extremely intense dreams, sudden flashes of recollection, a heightened sense of intuition, and temporary forgetfulness of minor details."

    "You won't grow two inches or change eye colours or anything, but you'll see universal variation in the placement and vectoring of blood vessels and nerves, replenished bone cartilage and skeletal realignment, homogenization of respective muscle and bone tissue away from previous irregularities, asymmetries, or damages, some increased heart and lung tissue density and activity, thickened myelin sheaths, and the pleasing part, increased hair growth, skin elasticity, and repair of oral tissues, including enamel. There may be slightly unpredictable variations in blood pressure and cell count, heart rate, oxygen intake, and digestive capabilities, at first."

    "Having equipment designed to constantly monitor and adjust based on these states might be a considerable benefit. Oh, and if you've previously been a smoker or caught any of the benign, indefinite viral infections a majority people have, gradual dissolving of scar tissue may result in occasionally ejecting up viral matter, so strong antiviral treatment, especially to the lungs, might help." Continuing at a more casual, yet distinctly more meaningful tone, Lilian says "Temporally, a full rotation thus takes three months. The currently expected 'market rate' is three cycles for the average person to build up a core foundation capable of collecting and regenerating magical energy. I'd like to see you do it in one. Once that foundation is built, these side effects should become less significant over time, higher dosages can be used, and more emphasis can be placed on exercises. Don't worry about acquiring more advanced doses; I'm sponsoring you all the way up to the Blade, after all"

    And then the bird's eye view of Caelton has her rapt attention.

    "You're fortunate --no, canny, to be speaking to a highly qualified alchemist, you know? Especially with the family Atrium, the Reliquary, and, between you and me, a number of holes into the Otherside within the ancestral territory. The opportunities to study that metal's effects --if they're so pronounced as you claim-- on a million other things . . . well, it'll certainly be something to see. Certainly as far as weapons and armour go, the G.D.F, and even the Immunes, will take every edge there is. You've yet to really see them in action, especially the former, so I'll make time to rectify that."
Lilian Rook     Yet besides that, the subtly 'different' quality that hangs over the discussion, primarily Lilian's side, manifests more specifically. That professionally unreadable facade allowing a certain stormcloud of passion to hang over it. She may be talking about opportunities and connections and study, but the swell beneath it bleeds out all the same. An edge of heated conviction. A kind of thinly veiled thirst for action, growing with her expectations. That unmistakable convection of certainty and charisma that comes from someone with ambition greater than money.

    It's a far cry from the noble optimism and assurance that might come from Steve Rogers, or Gawain in the matter of Caelton, but the subtle vibration of a goal suddenly becoming much closer to being within grasp, and its tint of anxious, youthful 'bloodlust', might be even more trustworthy in some ways. Certainly more predictable. More than she wants to be the vibranium goddess in this situation, at least slightly so, Lilian wants revenge for people she couldn't have met. Lilian wants to kill monsters.

    "I'm glad you asked~" Lilian purrs, extending her hand across the table to shake.
Tony Stark Tony and Lilian clap hands, Tony pumping once. The explanations had brought a grim smile to his face, the determined, 'let's get this done' affectation of not just an Experienced Hero, but a veteran one.

Someone who knew what he was getting into, a man who did not want to achieve -- but excel.

The bloodlust is understood - he's seen it before. The hunger to prove and conquer and excel of a different stripe.

"I'll take canny. Among your skills, Lilian, the one I knew I could place the most trust in was your ability to find the people who are worth trusting. If you didn't have an alchemist, you'd find one."

His hand is pulled back as the screens and digital aides collapse into the projector on his watch.

"For every destined hero and genius there's ten thousand people with dreams but no means. Three months of training, systems handling, and drills. Personal companion VI's to maximize each trainee's growth. Mission packages and on-site refitting - I've already got the microfoundries for my Prime armors. Solved tech."

"I'd like to put the first set in the hands of the Pendragons by the end of the year."

His finger hovers over a digitally displayed red haptic button over his watch-face. Lilian would know it on sight as the 'turn off the cone of silence system' button.

"Unless you have a better suggestion, Miss Rook? As my partner in this, it's your world. Who would you like to hand the power of mankind to... first?"
Lilian Rook     "My my, you're already thinking not just of yourself, but of whom you're going to bestow such a gift upon next?" Lilian says, gently releasing the handshake, one brow inching up. "Though I suppose that's just part of what sets you apart and above of the usual. There isn't a tremendous shortage of brilliant scientists who make wild inventions in the Multiverse. There are a number of them here, in fact."

    "But too many who cling to their 'one thing', making how they created it, and only they own it, part of their identity. There are excruciatingly few who will then make it for something for everyone, and move on to the next thing. The 'armour around the world' ideal."

    Somehow, she barely needs to consider the question. To the point that it is genuinely surprising. "The Pendragons have good ideas. More pure ambitions than most. Less internacine issues than many. But they aren't the ones by far who are most in need of that kind of thing." she says. "In fact, I'd rather not put so many in any particulay group's hands all at once. A sampler. The first hit is free. A few out to the Pendragon houses, the Ulster branches, and the Solstice knighthoods, that we want on our side. None to the ones we don't. A clear demarcation of expected behaviour. And, let's say a couple to a particular small faction I have a vested interest in Japan."

    "Then, I trust Gerart more than anyone to place the bulk with those unsung heroes of the corps who could do a lot more good if they could break into the first Station, and his chosen up-and-comers. He has his finger on the pulse more than anyone. He has experience. Strategic acumen. Long-term vision. And he thought I was worth the effort. If the Iron Man's outreach elevates, more than anyone else, those who've already put their lives on the line without any powers of their own, doesn't that send quite the message?"