The Armorer

By Hephaestia

31.2K 1.5K 390

Not everybody's superpowers enable them to suit up. What happens when a hermit superhuman meets up with Capta... More

How I got to be in the middle of the jungle
Why is there an Avenger in my trees?
Getting people to leave me alone is the hard part
The situation develops
No shit.
Racing against time
The rumble in the jungle. Ridiculous.
Out of the frying pan, into a highly advanced fire
I am so bored
Home again, and on a mission
In which I find my target
Secret lairs. And stuff.
Mixing business with pleasure
Decisions
The big reveal, and other surprises
That tricky bastard
Repatriation and ulterior motives
Heigh ho, it's off I go
I want to be alone, but Stark won't let me be
Probably the most uncomfortable lunch of my life
Atonement
Offers aplenty
A new friend
Sigurd puts on a show
Getting to work
Whack-a-mole--every time things are going well, something new pops up
The preparation commences
I give interstellar diplomacy a shot
We start to Lokify the place
A cellblock built for a king
I get a working vacation
On the ground
Up a tree
All fixed up
Fallout
In which I get to know Loki a bit better.
Books, books as far as the eye can see.
Cultural studies
Loki tests his boundaries
The uproar
Getting through the fallout with an umbrella
Everybody gets a field trip
Unveiling

All sorts of surprises

665 35 4
By Hephaestia

I opened the door to Cap, King T'Challa, and Natasha. We looked at each other a moment, then I said, "Are you guys still in trouble with the law? Because this isn't my place."

Cap smiled ruefully. "No, actually, things are being ironed out and we're not classified as terrorists or criminals."

I stood back and opened the door wider. Natasha  looked around as I led them to the living room and asked about the owners. "I think they agreed to sublet to me once I told them about Austria, actually. They're kind of superhero geeks." And remembering my promise--which I didn't think I'd be in a position to honor, actually--I went to the sofa table and withdrew a photograph from the drawer and found a Sharpie. "So if you wouldn't mind, I said I'd ask anybody I saw again if they'd sign this." It was a picture of the action at the Leipzig airport from a wide angle; you could see the two lines of Avengers moving forward for engagement.  Natasha smirked and signed, Cap just signed, and T'Challa smiled, signed, and drew a little panther by his name.

"Thank you," I said, carefully putting away the photograph and sitting in my chair again. "So what brings you by?"

"To see how you were," Cap said. "You seemed pretty upset when you left."

Natasha shrugged. "We didn't get down to business before you and Tony started hammering at each other."

T'Challa leaned forward and held out the vibranium ingot. "You forgot this."

I shook my head and forced myself not to reach for it. "The deal was that I sit down to lunch. I only made it part way."

"I was unaware of your history with Mr Stark," he said thoughtfully. "I believe you've earned it."

I crossed my arms to keep myself from grabbing it. "That little piece of metal is worth in excess of a million dollars. I'm not sure why you're offering it to me as a party favor."

He smiled suddenly. "Mr Rogers was telling me about how you made his shield, all the layers, and one thing he said stuck with me." Cap nodded.

"I said that you'd made it without vibranium but that you'd mentioned it a few times like it was something you wanted to work with."

"Do you have your shield?" I asked him, and he nodded. "Could I see it?" Without another word he got up and went outside. I liked that he doesn't waste time asking questions that will clearly be answered if you're patient. When he returned with it, I examined it carefully. From an objective standpoint, it's remarkable work. From an ego perspective, I'd like to sign it. I probably could persuade the metal to accept at least my initials, but I won't. My part is done. I patted it absently and handed it back. "What I'd like you to do is to bring down the shield on the vibranium ingot to see which is stronger. I'll repair any damage, of course." Both T'Challa and Natasha perked up, and Cap agreed, so we went to the backyard. There's a brick patio there that I could fix if it got damaged. T'Challa placed the ingot on the brick, and Cap used his considerable muscle to bring the shield edge down on the metal. There was a ringing tone, but it wasn't from the shield; interestingly, it transmitted vibration less than the vibranium. We leaned in and saw that he cleanly cut the ingot in half. I grinned like a child and put out my hands. With a tolerant smile, he handed me the shield and I cycled through my vision options on the place where it met the vibranium. There was a tiny burr on the side where the impact was, I could barely feel it and it was a piece of cake to smooth it out again. I handed it back to Cap and gave in, doing a brief dorky dance, complete with fist pumps. Natasha started laughing. T'Challa examined the two halves of the ingot with a stunned expression.

We went back inside. "I would not have thought it possible if I had not seen it myself," T'Challa finally said and again offered the vibranium. I figured that I've shown something pretty cool, so I took half. Ok, it's the slightly bigger half. And it was cleanly cut, now that I examined it. It's been cleaved along the planes of the crystal structure of the metal. T'Challa examined his own chunk, and Natasha asked to see mine.

I was basking in my success, and why not? It was a damned good bit of work. Cap examined his shield. "So, do you think you could do this again?" he asked without looking up. I frowned.

"Are you planning on losing that?" I asked in return. "Because, frankly, given the trouble it caused, I'd be kind of pissed."

"Language," he and Natasha said in chorus, and she cracked up.

"You guys have a swear jar?" I asked in disbelief.

"That's a good idea," Cap said, looking up. "We could probably fund the quinjet with it. But no, I'm not planning on anything happening to this. Although a backup would be nice. And since we're not criminals on the run, this time I could pay you for it."

"We'd like you to join the Avengers and do R and D for us," Natasha said immediately.

"No. I won't work with Tony Stark again," I said flatly, and she looked a little surprised.

"I know he can be an asshole," she began, and tossed Cap a quarter when he opened his mouth. "But he's a genius too. What you two could achieve together would be amazing. Things to immobilize criminals rather than kill them. The things you were asking about. Because no, we never considered less...hostile ways of battling the bad guys."

"No, I don't ever want work for or with Stark again," I said implacably. "And while I'm sorry I unloaded on him at the nice lunch, I still loathe the guy. And it's not fair, I know, but I resent that he's not like his dad."

"You idolized his father," T'Challa said. "Wouldn't it be a tribute to him to work with his son?"

"I give you full credit for trying a psychological angle," I said. But no. "It's complex. I was hired by Stark Tech just before my undergraduate graduation. By Mr Stark himself, actually. He was in HR for some reason, heard that they were interviewing a new lab candidate, and came in. It was my third interview there, the one where they cut you loose or hire you. We clicked instantly, he asked about my ambitions and what Stark Tech could do for me, then finally the HR people got to ask their questions, and he hired me on the spot." The memory made me smile. "The HR rep later told me they'd have hired me anyway. When I told my grandpa about it, he was thrilled. He said that not only would it be a great place for me but that I would have a great career there, that Stark took care of his employees. They had an open house for a new facility not long after I started there, and my grandpa came with me. He met Mr Stark, they talked some about the war. My granddad had served in the Pacific as a hospital corpsman, island-hopping with the Marines. They got along great too. When I got admitted to grad school, my grandpa was over the moon. He died shortly after that. So that was our corporate culture, built on loyalty. Which was why it was so awful when Tony Stark shut down the weapons division. Over a hundred scientists worked there, only eleven or twelve were offered positions in other labs. The rest...they couldn't get jobs domestically, they had to go overseas. A few of them killed themselves because they couldn't get work anywhere, their research was too specialized. Most of them held PhDs, and it's really hard to change research tracks when you're established. I don't know what happened to a lot of them. Some retired. I can see that you think everybody overreacted," I said looking around. "But you didn't last at Stark Tech if you didn't love what you were doing. It was heaven on a plate to be able to research virtually anything you wanted, but it always was a place that demanded your best and you had to give it your all. So to have that be ripped away so abruptly was a terrible thing." I got up and retrieved something from my bedroom, handing it to Natasha.

"Mr Stark had these rings made for the Acolytes a couple months before he died. They're platinum, with the thinnest possible vibranium wire in the center. It's all that was left over after Cap's shield was made. It kind of solidified us as a team. Our goal was to be the best, the most innovative. It was a tangible token. I never took it off. Until one day, after Mr Stark was killed and Tony Stark settled in, I realized that I was just going to my job. I've never worn it since. It wasn't just us, though. Every year there was a big company holiday, even those of us in school came back for it. Everybody lightened up and toured the other parts of the labs where we never stuck our noses, socialized. Mr Stark would give awards to those who had achieved a milestone goal--setting the goals was part of our performance reviews--and anniversaries, five, ten, ect. Everybody got a new lab coat and protective glasses. It was fun and cohesive and gave us an emotional investment in our work. And Tony Stark took over and all of that went away." I shrugged. "So I am resentful that Stark never made an effort to engage with the labs. He'd come down now and then, bogart promising research, set the scientist to do something else. He sure used a lot of other people's research in developing his first Iron Man suits and tech. And he's never publicly thanked any of them. So yeah. I'm not working with him. Besides, what I know is metal and things that can be used on and with metal. What you're looking at will require a lot of other substances." I sat there; T'Challa handed me back my ring.

"And before you ask, I can't do mass production. What I can do requires my personal attention every step of the way. My skin wasn't the only mutation. It's just the only one I want to talk about."

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