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Tony Stark Avengers Tower - which was once Stark Tower - Sat dominating the New York skyline, the half-cylinder, half swooping semi-cone with the landing pad at thetop on a balcony.

Inside, on the lower floor, there's a walk-in open to the public interactive quasi-exhibit and help request area handled by Stark employees and a few SHIELD agents. The middle of the tower is largely offices and labs for the Stark-SHIELD partnership and technical assistance. Much of the business of the hero-based programs in the city go through Avengers Tower somehow.

At the top there's a reception/suite just off the landing pad, and a sort of expanded penthouse floor with a kitchen, 'standing lab', casual sitting area, and some various table games.

It's very classy.

Inside, Tony Stark moves through the upper area, trying aggressively to not take a folder from Mariah Hill, before getting it shoved into his arms and the female agent to make her way out with a smirk. Faux-hurt, Tony blends himself a green drink health shake, before settling in at the lab area and flicking files from his phone onto the project servers of the tower. Taking regular sips of his awful fitness concoction, Stark begins tossing videos to an automatic indexer, before bringing up the designs for an Iron Man suit, tinkering with the blow-out.

Pretty standard day for Tony Stark, all told.
Doctor Strange      Within the penthouse, above and behind Stark's desk, hovering like an annoying co-worker in an office, is a burning sigil in the shape of a stylized eye. It's definitely not office decor, and it's probably visible on camera, if Stark has people checking for that. And if he does, what happens next will probably have the anthill /all/ in a tizzy. A ring of glowing sparks just invites itself into the air.

     Very rudely carved into reality, the center of this ring creates a very tacky contrast--the hip and modern decor of Tony's penthouse is suddenly at odds with a circular portrait of, first and foremost, a wizard in a blue tunic and red cloak, and second, his vaguely old-world mansion. Doctor Stephen Strange steps through the portal, which closes behind him. He does this in full view of Stark.

     After violating the man's privacy in so sudden a fashion, the first thing Strange does when his black Converses hit the floor is dismiss the sigil hovering above Stark. Tony can tell something was done because there's a vague sound kinda like a chime that sounds along with his sweeping hand gesture. The second thing Strange does is criticize.

     "That drink looks /gross./ What's in it? Spinach and baby food?"
Tony Stark You know, it's funny, but the floating BURNING SIGIL isn't picked up on the initial defense alert. It's not even noticed by Tony Stark, because Stark is a firm believer in holographic interfaces and they don't reflect light.

The sound of the sling ring's portal, though, gets Tony glancing at the WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE SOMEONE IS BUZZSAWING THE AIR?

As the circle burns and resolves, Stark throws out a hand with lifted palm and a two finger 'conducting' gesture, parts of the Mark XLIII flying to enclose themselves around him, right arm first.

By the time Strange steps through the portal from his Sanctum into Avengers Tower and dismisses the scrying sensor, Stark has his entire right side and his chest partially encased in an armor, a palm repulsor whinding up. His left hand still holds his recovery drink.

The criticism gets a quirked brow -- and a look of recognition. "Doctor Stephen Strange. You... Know how to make an entrance. Most people, you know, buzz themselves up? Go through all those smiling men and women in suits?"

"Friday, step down silent alarm."
"Of course, boss. Sorry I didn't catch it. There was no physical presence until..."

Tony sighs, closing his fist. The parts of the 43 hover around where they were flying from, dropping into a standby mode, before moving to finish suiting up Tony at a slower, more sedated pace.

"And it's good, you should try some! I cut the chlorophyll after I didn't need to kick palladium poisoning any more. It's got..."

Tony puts the drink on a counter, before sweeping up his hand to gesture-summon the rest of his suit, catching the faceplate -- before stepping forwards out of the suit, having it open up in the chest to release him. "Apple, kale, coconut water, pineapple juice, tonic water, a little ginger, and some protein powder for binding. I'm sure Steve likes it, and he's incapable of lying."

He sweeps his arms out, gesticulating with a broad shrug. "Or he's too Catholic boyscout to turn down food, ever. What can I do for you, Master of the Mystic Arts?"

Lifting the glass back to his lips, he adds. "Bet a guy like you wouldn't risk getting blasted for a gag."
Doctor Strange      Strange watches the armor do its thing. He's a little concerned, until the recognition sets in. He nods, perfectly taking Stark's point. "Yeah, I know." It's fairly evident that when a guy in a magic cloak is in your office, he's not Most People. "But hey--bet you'll mark my emails as important if you didn't before."

     Selling the green drink is actually kind of easy when the guy you're selling it to is both a doctor and a martial artist. Upon hearing the list of ingredients, Strange gives Tony an impressed frown. "Yeah, sure, why not." As if he hadn't already violated Guest Culture a thousand times over, he simply Has a glass in his hand now, and it's definitely not one of Stark's. It's also full of green drink, yet Stark's supply is untouched.

     The Sorcerer Supreme finds an unoccupied seat and takes it, sipping chastely at his approximation of Stark's recipe. "You'd be surprised what I'd do for a gag, but in this case, you're right." He gives Stark a curt nod. "This is part business, part social call. Let's get the business out of the way first, shall we?"

     "Your... ward and I each took some of that drug for analysis. It's exactly what I was afraid of." He removes one hand from his glass to make an elaborate one-handed mudra of some sort. In the wake of his waggling fingers shimmers an image of Loki's Sceptre.

     "Someone has the Sceptre's stone and they're synthesizing a designer drug from it."
Tony Stark "Oh I'm sure Friday is already shamefully elevating you to Person of Interest status and building the database and cross-reference already." Tony asides to the general violation of Hospitality. Unfortunately, as a playboy philanthropist superhero -- Tony was no better in terms of busting in when he was unwanted. Plus...

Frankly, Tony didn't really wanna piss off or blow away Doctor Stephen Strange, Fellow Paladin, and Sorcerer Supreme. People didn't just Call themselves that (and then teleport into your extremely secure tower).

"The sceptre... That caused some issues, right? There was some talk about fundamental forces, and you being about half a Gandalf the Grey in terms of Wizarding Half-Answers earlier. So, presuming you're the magic expert - why is this even possible? The sceptre just... Made people creepily glassy-eyed and follow Loki for some reason."

Then comes the other question. "And why would HYDRA be making a designer drug? Unless HYDRA lost the Sceptre... Friday, bring up all the data on HYDRA bases and cross reference any sighting of the Sceptre, all the way back since when Thor left with the Tesseract onward."

"On it."
"Great. While we wait... My ward?"
Doctor Strange      Strange nods at the mention of the sceptre, as if to say 'the very one.' "There's a reason, alright," he says, giving another characteristic half-answer. His index, middle finger and thumb make a motion like a zipper closing as he waves his hand. The image of the scepter disappears. "See, it's not the sceptre, it's the little stone inside it. It made those people follow him because that's what he wanted it to do. Maybe he even thought that's all it could do. But it isn't. Not by a long shot."

     The mention of HYDRA does see him raise an eyebrow. "Assuming it's them... I can think of a reason. The guy we found was a bum. Someone who wouldn't be missed. Prime 'test subject' material for an... evil... super-spy... cult... thing." He slowly and vaguely gestures a trembling hand in circles while he searches for adjectives to describe them.

     "It's like... liquid information. Activates certain parts of the brain, implants fake memories. Did I tell you this guy was literally casting stuff out of a Dungeons and Dragons book?" He angles his head towards Stark inquisitively. "Didn't pick up on it until he shouted 'Magic Missile.'" Strange scoffs.

     "Sure enough, once me and the kid talked him down, he told us some guy in a red mask handed him the drug and a rulebook for the game." That must be what he means by Stark's 'ward.' Spider-Man. "If I had to guess... I'd say culturally relevant stuff is easier for the drug to 'activate.' To... fool people into thinking they have powers."

     "So," Strange concludes. "That's what they want the drug for. Powers in a bottle."
Tony Stark Tony waits for an answer to the first Wizardism.

There isn't one.

As if there was a cosmic audience, Tony makes a little nod to the middle distance and a little 'yep, that's about expected' exhalation, before Strange continues - by following and tugging on the HYDRA thread, connected with the Sceptre.

"So, the jewel is some sort of... deterministic power source? It's whatever you want it to be? No. Liquid information..."

Tony raises his health drink to his lips, pausing there as a single finger taps against the side of the glass, extending and retracting with a regular 'tink tink tink' of fingernail on glass.

"No, no, this makes sense. Now, I'm remembering something. You said that your magic - Sorcery itself, actually - was a learned art. Formulas, and the like. Would it be possible this 'Liquid Information' could be literally liquid knowledge of magic? It doesn't matter if HYDRA or Hersheys has that kind of power - whoever has it needs to not, if they're just passing it out to derelicts on the street. As for a red mask..."

Tony makes a face. "Gonna lose that bet with Rogers, aren't I?"

As for powers in a bottle, Stark nods firmly. "Can't let that happen. Even if I believe in a 'power to the people' mentality, randomly giving people sketchy drugs to give them magic superpowers... Lot of people would take that deal. Worse, if there becomes even more of a superpowers black market, it'd encourage a 'cottage industry' of shady back-alley superpowers. Hunting down Klaue's vibranium and the bevy of Chitauri-tech gunrunners around here is a full time job for a whole division of SHIELD, and their budget is not a small amount. Add some entirely new player to the game..."

Tony nods. "Alright, Doctor. You've earned your email flag. What do you need? You don't seem to be the private stealth jet sort - discretionary budget? Staff?"

Tony's all business, right up until he finds a lounge chair cattycorner to Strange and flops into it. "What's your pitch, doc, why are you in our house?"
Doctor Strange      "That's just it," says Strange in response to Tony. He rises from his chair. "Sorcery is pretty heavily martial." To demonstrate, he extends both scarred hands and engages in a brief, standing kata before Stark. His hands make conjoined half-circles, tracing a brilliantly glowing orange circle in their path. Then, two opposing half-circles, then two more, until the circle begins to look like a mandala. Strange centers his stance, pulls both hands to his hips and forces them outwards, burning intricate interwoven patterns into the square at the center. The whole glyph whooshes outwards in individual parts, then vanishes. Strange dusts his hands off and shrugs.

     "See? The guy out there--he was literally just shouting spell names. None of /this./" He literally makes Jazz Hands at Tony, then eases himself back into his seat. Ahem. "But we can agree--sorcery or not, it's not a button we want any fingers near." He watches as the inventor circles around and takes a seat. Finally, he takes another sip of his approximation of Stark's brew. Rather than give his answer right away, he opines on the concoction. "Not bad," he notes. "Maybe add some other tropical fruit. Offset the 'water' in 'coconut water.'"

     The glass trembles slightly in his hand. "That was the pitch," he admits. "Just bringing you up to speed, getting that little yellow... chevron to get my long-awaited validation." He pauses. "...you seem like a G-Mail guy." Ssssip. He watches Stark over the rim of the glass.

     "This would be the 'social call' part," he awkwardly muses in his somewhat gravelly voice.
Tony Stark Stark watches, with some restrained interest, at the lightshow. There's a world where Stark runs up an elaborate 'it's a trick!' gimmick, involving spectrometers and delicate energy readings and having to run back 'oh well I guess it COULD be magic'.
    That Tony Stark doesn't exist in the Multiverse. This Tony Stark does. This Tony Stark has a surprise-analysis-muted appreciation reaction, in that order.

"Stance, form, foucs, function. Do you hold the formula in your mind, or are you tracing it in the air? That's... fascinating. Does it make you tired, or is there an energy source you tap into?"

Stark opens his mouth again, raising a finger on his glass-holding hand to forstall and give him time for another question. Then, his face flashes with an 'I'm coming on too strong' realization, and Tony sits back more contemplatively.

"Could up the pineapple juice. I'll try that. Honestly, I don't think too much about the taste, it's sort of planty-neutral? Kale doesn't mix - it's like tomatoes in drinks. And I do mean to hate on the noble bloody mary, Worcestershire sauce is for stews - and I didn't order a stew, I ordered a drink."

'Getting the chevron'. Stark laughs, a bubbling mirth. "Oh, I couldn't use gmail for internal things. I've got a Stark Systems proprietary client, but you've earned your own legally distinct yellow sticky note, Doctor."

He nods, jovially. "But yeah, it's basically Gmail. I can't buy Google, the Sherman Antitrust act forbids me from owning that much of everyone's collective soul."

"You want to order a pizza or something? Drink?"

"Something for your hands?" He asks, a concerned note entering his voice. It's a 'you want an ibuprofin?' tone.
Doctor Strange      "Yeah." That's the only word he says, the only time it's uttered, and it's all Stark gets for his line of questioning. It might not even be the answer to those questions--it might just be 'yeah, you're coming on too strong.' Who can say, but Strange himself?

     He nods, and... wow, he really doesn't smile much even when he's in a good mood. "Pizza sounds great," he says. There's a pause, then... "Surprise me."

     Tony finds a kindred spirit in tomato hate. "Hate all you want," says the sorcerer with an unconcerned shrug. "V8's the best the tomato can do, if we're not talking ketchup. Never understood the appeal of a... salty drink." Strange frowns, shaking his head and squinting slightly. He takes another sip of his drink, evidently able to tolerate kale much more than tomato. His hand is still slightly trembling.

     "Looks worse than it is," admits the doctor. "Took a... Lamborghini Huracan over a guardrail... and the New York countryside." He lifts his free hand up and wobbles it slightly. It's a patchwork of scars, both jagged and surgical, much like the other. "Ever had an instrument panel crash through your hands at eighty miles an hour?" He inclines his head towards Tony, brows raised, an informal, inquisitive frown on his face.

     His emerald eyes fall upon the patchwork of scars that are his hands. "I leave 'em this way on purpose. Reminds me of the /giant/ douche I was." He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs, the laces of his high top sneakers rather at odds with the whole Wizard Tunic aesthetic he's got going on. Strange finishes his glass and then it's just gone. Not even a poof.

     Taking a look around the penthouse, his eyes fall upon a keepsake of Tony's. He gives the inventor an inquisitive look. 'What's that?' that look asks.
Tony Stark Tony gets a 'yeah'.
He waits.
His look progresses from 'Go On' to 'Really guy?' before returning to a jovial 'Right, ok'.

"Room service!" Tony calls to the room, raising his hands for a 'clap-clap' in the air.
Friday laughs. "I'll order something then, Boss."

"You know they do those V8 brand fruit drinks that are pretty good. Sorta juice-good stuff blends, but packaged for people who are buying them next to the twinkies and stuff. Picked one up at a convenience store, wasn't awful. They finally made a drink without tomato, so, you know, even V8 sees the light."

As for Strange's injuries, Stark is readily deferential. "Tank shell to the chest, air to air missile, fell off a jet, but I did all that in a suit. Worst car accident I got into I walked away from. Bashed up my left shoulder some, but any landing you walk away from..."

Stark trails off, nodding along with the story. He doesn't interrupt any more, as Strange brings his story to a close, before looking to the original Arc Reactor. "That... is about, conservatively, a few thousand dollars in materials, and more than a few trillion dollars in proprietary knowledge. The original Arc Reactor. Same kind of thing powering every Iron Man suit, Avengers Tower, and a few side projects. I used to have them..." he taps his solar plexus. "Right here. Gave me the worst crowding in my chest cavity, what with needing to move some muscles and bones aorund. But I wouldn't let go of it, for years. It, and the dozens of pieces of microshrapnel in my bloodstream threatening cardiac arrest were an electromagnet not powered in my chest."

Stark gestures with his almost-empty glass. "I had, like, three different Time articles on it. And another Forbes full-spread, and a Scientific American coverstory. But if you're asking what I think you're asking..."

Tony leans up to tap his glass against the case. "I keep it because it represents where I was. Not what I was. That, and the stand is important to me, too."

It is, specifically the engraved one, from way back in the day.

    PROOF THAT TONY STARK HAS A HEART
Doctor Strange      Strange watches the display Stark makes, and his generally neutral expression does turn up at the corners of the mouth. He thinks they might share an affinity for showmanship. "Yeah, I know the ones you mean. Friend sold me on the strawberry-banana one." He nods once, then again when Stark expresses his sentiment about injuries one survives.

     The story of the original arc reactor draws a raised brow from Strange. "Few trill--" He scoffs. "Wow. Yeah, I... noticed there was no..." He gestures vaguely to his own chest. "That you even pulled that off at all is amazing. Honestly, I was good, but not 'put a miniature reactor in a guy's chest' good." He peers at the engraved stand for the original Arc Reactor. The message actually makes him smile a little.

     That number keeps bouncing around in his head, though. A few trillion dollars of proprietary knowledge. A Forbes full-spread. Strange chuckles. "Y'know, Stark, this comedian I saw one time said there's two kinds of people in the world." There's a sight. Quite possibly the dryest man in New York in a comedy club. Strange raises a scarred finger. "People who are good at Monopoly," he says, pointing at Tony... "And people who are good at Trivial Pursuit." He gestures with both hands--'here I am.'

     "I was never any good with money. Spent it as fast as I could get it. When I was a kid, I sold one of my dad's baseball cards to get money for a... Super Nintendo." Then there's his SHIELD file, with all the many expenditures on wildly experimental procedures, the history of impulse buying. "But I can name just about any song I hear from the first five seconds. So... got that going for me."
Tony Stark "Currently, Arc Reactor technology is second hottest field in any industry, because it is every industry. It is literally power itself, clean and sustainable - but the secret sauce also comes in very dangerous flavors - not to mention the "true" reactors, like the ones I use on my suits, contain a rare and potent element currently of which most of the stocks of are in the hands of SHIELD's #1 most wanted man - Ulysses Klaue. He edges out Baron Strucker for the shit-list when you realize that vibranium would start a third World War in the resource war."

Stark makes a theatrical weighing motion, sagging one hand quickly from the other. "Nazi Jackasses." The unweighed hand. "Global catastrophe over the rarest metal on earth."

Stark gestures between himself and Strange for a moment. "If you'd ask me what the first hottest field was, that would be Human Enhancement, but you can see why I left that one out - it's why we're sitting here in these chairs on top of a tower emblazoned with the logo of masked and costumed morons and monsters who try to keep most of the fires out."

Stark leans in, elbows on his knees, shoulders hunched. There's a tightness in his eyes. "There's some Nazi prick who is trying to bottle magic godhood and sling it in our city."

The topic move to board games and trivia. Stark's tenseness fades. "Never played, actually. Dad was at work, and I had the garage to myself. Pulling apart engines was..."

He sits back again, raising his hands to look at his fingers, and begins to say something -- but aborts it. "... well, it was something that was deliberate. Took focus. There was a right way to make things work, that made them great, that made them useful, and if you understood it, you could build it back up from scratch if you had to."

"But, yeah, no good at trivia. Money... I'd say that I was very lucky when it came to money. Certainly, I was brilliant, but without the money to start, I'd probably be under a boss, not 'the' boss. But... Man, sometimes I get those ear-worms."

Stark looks down, at the stand with the Mark 1 Reactor on it. "Don't think I'd trade you, though. I pretty much earned this. All of this."

He doesn't seem to mean the building.
Doctor Strange      Things might have, to this point, seemed relatively grounded since the last grievous violation of rational thought. Well, we can't have that. Another portal opens, this one to the street just outside Stark Tower. Another Stephen Strange steps through it, deposits the pizza on Stark's desk, and leaves, closing the portal behind him. "See you around, Stark," he says on his way out.

     Strange (the one still seated) peers at Tony's choice of pizza. "A man of wealth and taste," says the sorcerer. He then proudly mumbles, "Sympathy for the Devil, Rolling Stones, Beggars Banquet, 1968." Ahem. Back at conversational volume, "I'm gonna have to leave to go get that in a few minutes," explains the sorcerer before conjuring a plate for each of them. "Then I'll be out of your hair."

     In the meantime, he grabs a slice of pizza, careful to eat it over the plate. Being a strange guest is fine, but being rude is unacceptable. "I know what you mean," says Strange, waving his free hand once he's sure he won't lose any toppings. "...about working with your hands, I mean. Honestly, I wish it was that simple with me. I gave up anything as soon as it got hard, I was... afraid of failing. Surgery came naturally to me, so I stuck with it. But it wasn't about helping people, it was about helping me. To, ah, run away." He quietly munches on pizza for a while.

     "When all this happened," he says, gesturing to his admittedly outlandish attire, "I learned it's not the end of the world, especially if you learn something. I actually turned back the clock on something pretty shitty by failing again, and again, and again and again." He pauses. "Maybe it's not failing if you're doing it on purpose, but, hey, remind me and I'll tell you the story sometime. Suffice to say, I wouldn't trade either."

     He manages to put away a slice, then his plate just vanishes. With thumbs pressed to forefingers, he crosses his hands over his chest. Pulling them until they're uncrossed, his fingers raise to resemble the opening of an eye. The amulet upon his chest shifts until there is a green light which glows brightly from an emerald set into it.

     "Alright, gotta go get the pizza."
Tony Stark With the rapid events of getting the pizza, with goodbyes first, Tony just sort of watches in a state of good-natured bewilderment, clearly at the 'ok, I guess he does that too'.

That must be what Rhodey feels when Stark shows off something new. It was a curious feeling.

"Doing what you're good at isn't shameful. I don't sling the meanest pizza pie in New York - and it'd be a waste for me to do that instead of this."

Strange gets up, and Stark picks up a slice for himself, folding up the ends and balancing the thin crust with thumb, index, and middle finger.

"Doctor! Stephen. This whole 'Sorcerer Supreme' thing? It seems hard. Being someone who's looking out for others can take..."

Tony hangs his head, non-pizza hand raising in a 'just a second' finger. He masks and rallies with a quick bite of pizza, his voice distorted around the obstruction.

"A lot. I'm glad you're on our team, Doctor. Could use a little more brains around the Tower! And, you know, the trivia - Rogers needs a catchup coach."

Strange leaves through his portal, and Tony sits back, with a nearly full box of pizza. "Oh, I think I was supposed to be dieting. Friday! Adjust the diet to starting... wakeup tomorrow."
"Of course."