[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019a79b9-88cc-76dc-b53c-f2a072816244.webp[/img][/center][COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][INDENT][color=#8e7cc3]“Antonio Stark in the flesh,”[/color]

A hand grasped Tony’s, causing him to recoil as he withdrew his right hand from the other man’s before hastily brushing it against the exterior of his jacket, his other hand frantically searching his pockets for any form of sanitizer.

His search was in futility; the sudden realization that sanitizer was an alcohol product reminded Tony that Rhodey had confiscated it from him. Although Tony had been sober for over a year, Rhodes had gone out of his way to remove every temptation from Oregon to New York while the pair travelled together.

[color=#b94642]“Damn his thoroughness,”[/color] Tony muttered under his breath. James had abandoned Tony to go and meet with his own superiors, leaving the former head of Stark Industries alone in a sea of sharks hungry to feed. Beyond the man in front of him, Tony quickly noticed Simon Stagg and Hank Pym both were in attendance.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, his eyes shooting daggers at Pym, particularly towards the gold ring adorning his left hand. The search for the hand sanitizer was forgotten quickly, Tony’s hands balled into fists, clenching and unclenching over and over. 

[color=#8e7cc3]“I beg your pardon?”[/color]  The voice interrupted Tony’s glaring, tearing his eyes away from the other man across the room as Tony gritted his teeth before forcing a smile, turning back to the man who had initially approached him.  

[color=#b94642]“Lionel Luthor, you look… well.”[/color] Tony's wry tone left no room for his greeting to be mistaken as cordial. 

[color=#b94642]“Have you managed to capitalize on any Middle Eastern farmers lately?”[/color]

[color=#8e7cc3]“Come now, Antonio,”[/color] Lionel replied, patting Tony on the back, causing him to wince again as Lionel smiled, feigning obliviousness to Tony’s discomfort.[color=#8e7cc3] “We both know that the Middle East is hardly profitable for agriculture. There’s hardly any fields left due to the effectiveness of Stark Industries’ weapons.”[/color]

Lionel knew how to twist a knife. Tony tried to keep his face neutral, his tone calm. It was conversations like this that made him reluctant to venture outside of his cabin. He was forever cast in a darkness from his father’s shadow. Despite the advances across the entire Western coast towards a net-zero carbon footprint, thanks to the new arc reactors, Stark Industries would always be remembered instead for the likes of the ‘Jericho’ missile and the ‘Goliath’.

He had spent the last five years trying to make amends for his family’s history. The mistakes of the past had led to his divorce, his torture at the hands of the Ten Rings, it had almost cost him his company and not to mention his downward spiral into alcoholism and other forms of self-abuse.

Stark had separated himself from the world to rebuild, to become a better man. He had become sober, rebuilt the company with new products, and put people like Pepper into positions where they were far more effective than he could ever be.

But he still didn’t feel whole. Lionel, within five seconds, had managed to strip him for parts. Reduced him back to the very thing he was fighting so hard to distance himself from, just another heartless Tin Man like his father.

Tony Stark; some assembly required.   

[color=#b94642]“I don’t make weapons; Stark Industries is the face of clean energy.”[/color] Stark retorted, his tone taking a steely edge.

[color=#8e7cc3]“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, Antonio,”[/color] The other billionaire replied dismissively,[color=#8e7cc3] “But the fact of the matter is that Stark is synonymous with destruction,”[/color] Lionel smirked, reiterating the very thing Tony had come to hate about himself. 

[color=#8e7cc3]“Your father was the Da Vinci of Destruction after all, and there was that ‘Iron Man’ incident some years ago. Didn’t the late Obediah have the patent on a new mobile weapon suit?”[/color]

Tony knew Lionel was baiting him. The Luthor patriarch was fishing for something.

[color=#b94642]“I don’t know what to tell you, Lionel, dear old Dad and Obi cooked up some awfully wicked ideas, but I’m pushing ahead with my own legacy. The DaVinci is dead, and I buried him with his weapons. Stark Industries is building a new legacy.”[/color] 

[color=#8e7cc3]“Tsk, tsk, Tony, be careful not to bite the hand that feeds,[/color]” Lionel chided, leaning forward to whisper in Stark’s ear.[color=#8e7cc3] “I know it was you who designed the first suit; Infinity Incorporated has made some surprising headway at refining your designs. Dare I say, even improving upon them.”[/color]

[color=#b94642]“I appreciate you trying to goad my ego,”[/color] Tony deflected, pulling away from Lionel’s grasp. He was going to need a hot shower when this conversation was over. [color=#b94642]“But I haven’t the foggiest what you’re talking about. ‘Sentinel-One’ is cute, though. I like your little toy soldiers playing dress up in Metropolis.”[/color]

[color=#8e7cc3]“Ah, so you did manage to stay current even in your little shack.”[/color]

[color=#b94642]“Intimately, Lionel,” [/color]Tony managed to smile genuinely for the first time,[color=#b94642] “I saw your ‘Paladins’ get wiped across the floor by the first real threat they faced. Don’t tell me you only trained them to go after the teenage superheroes?”[/color]

Stark made no effort to stifle his laughter.

[color=#b94642]“I think the only thing better is that your fraudulent superhero was equally outmatched.”[/color] He taunted, finding his own knife to drive as Lionel’s eyebrows furrowed.[color=#b94642] “How is your registration going in light of the ‘Heroes of New York’. Business with Frost Industries must be a little-”[/color] Tony paused.

[color=#b94642]“What’s the word I’m looking for? It’s right there on the tip of my tongue, oh right, [i]frosty[/i], Your relationship with Frost Industries must be a little frosty if you’re on opposing sides of registration.”[/color] 

[color=#8e7cc3]“Antonio, it’s always a pleasure to engage in a battle of wits with you,”[/color] Lionel patted Tony on the back again. At this point, Tony’s fingernails had drawn blood from the palms of his hands.[color=#8e7cc3] “I especially appreciate you fighting unarmed.”[/color] He smiled again, following Tony’s eyes as they darted every few seconds back towards Pym.

[color=#8e7cc3]“I do hope you’ll perhaps consider stopping by Infinity Inc. some time,”[/color] Lionel added,[color=#8e7cc3] “I’d hate to see your true talents wasted by getting in [i]bed[/i] with the wrong party.”[/color] A dark chuckle followed Lionel’s words as he adjusted Tony’s collar, taking pleasure in the other man tensing up.

[color=#8e7cc3]“When you speak to Pym, give Janet my love.”[/color]

[i][color=#b94642]Bastard.[/color][/i]

Lionel’s words were like a slap to the face followed by a knee to the groin. Tony loosened his tie, patting his brow with a kerchief quickly before finding a secluded corner to regain his breath. Five minutes back into the real world, and he had already had to square off against Lionel Luthor. Facing Pym, let alone Janet, was not next on his list.

How did he let Rhodey talk him into this?

The only thing that could have made this worse is if the consult had been in Gotham. But at least then Tony would have been murdered and not left with an anxiety attack. 

He felt sick to his stomach and, for the first time in a year, desperately wanted a drink. 

Several drinks.

He hadn’t recognized his own designs in the Paladin armour initially. Was he losing his grip? It was so clear now. Of course, it wasn’t truly his design; it was Stane’s from reverse engineering the Mark I into the Iron Monger. The Paladin armour was a bit more streamlined, more riot gear than war machine. It didn’t change the fact that Stark was still responsible for new weapons making their way into the world.

If they had been used successfully by Lionel, who knows how many vigilantes’ blood would be on Stark’s hands. His chest tightened, breath shortened. Falling to one knee, Tony placed his hand on the wall. The hallway was spinning. He needed air, he needed water. 

Where was Rhodey? Where was the closest bar?

[color=#f1c232]“Tony?”[/color] A woman’s voice cut through the narrowing tunnel that was closing in around Stark’s vision.

[color=#f1c232]“You don’t look like you’re doing so well there, Boss Man,”[/color] She added, her hand reaching for his shoulder. Tony felt her touch as she moved to brace him. Then her scent hit his nose, notes of honey and honeysuckle took him back in time. 

Satin sheets, silky legs wrapped around his torso, laughter echoing in his ears. The hissing of a bottle of champagne that was freshly popped. A room covered in rose petals, a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries. A veil hung from the canopy of the four-post bed frame while a wedding dress lay discarded on the floor. The room was dotted with pieces of a tuxedo scattered about from being aggressively removed. 

[color=#b94642]“Jan?”[/color] Tony asked, looking up at the woman who smiled back at him, nodding enthusiastically. 

[i][color=#b94642]Damnit, Janet.[/color][/i]

Tony cursed inwardly, feeling his heart palpitate before suddenly his eyes rolled upwards into his skull. He gasped for air, collapsing on the floor in front of the horrified woman.

[color=#f1c232]“Tony!”[/color]

Tony Stark; [i]a lot[/i] of assembly required.[/indent][/indent][/color]