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[cleanedslate]

[ not too much later in the day, on a less populated section of the beach, Tony and Bruce are on a mission.

the mission is science, of course. and their weapons, at the moment, are a large expanse of beach that is currently serving as a makeshift whiteboard.

scrawled across it are a series of equations, all of them deceptively brief (read: condensed), but also filled with cryptic symbols that won't be familiar to anyone who hasn't gotten deep into physics. a healthy heaping of biochemistry will also help you to parse their work, which at the moment seems to be very focused on energy conversion and heat especially.

come stare! or step all over their hard work! you jerk :(

feel free to tag either of them but expect some thread jacking! after all, they are both standing right there ♥ ]

Comments

[sublimating]

[he's just sort of crouched and squinting in the sun, having given up on shirts himself but not worrying too much about the sun just yet]

We can't just tell PGE2 to take the day off and direct the fever energy elsewhere, or we'll lose activity in the signal transduction pathways that induce vasodilation. That would make the, ah. Heart explode. [rubbing his forehead] We need to reprogram the receptor to turn those "Let's have a fever" signals into something more productive. Since its primary function is a muscle relaxant, we also need a roundabout way to recycle the heat generation.

1/2

[cleanedslate]

Definitely no explosions. I think as celebrations of engagements go, champagne is the more traditional choice.

[ but then he can't help tangenting, thinking out loud ]

I had them looking at the DMH and rRPa connection. Kill that and you don't keep the heat in. [ muttering ] They should have been dripping sweat. [ correcting himself ] They were dripping sweat. Their skin's just too hot, evaporates it almost immediately. Hotter they run, the less they seem to sweat, until they're actively steaming.

Something in the formula juices them. They get almost high off it. The whole process is addictive. But that might just be the energy generation itself...

[cleanedslate]

[ he shakes it off, goes back to the relevant part of the equation ]

Sorry. Heat recycling. I'm on topic.

[ slowly he frowns ]

The way the stuff works now, cellular regeneration is almost an afterthought. Killian weaponized it, sold it for the part where his people can set things on fire and lift cars and explode and, oh by the way, regrow limbs. But it doesn't have to. We could -- dammit, what's the word. Anabolize? [ he waves a hand impatiently ] Put the excess energy to work building new cells. Strengthening the ones she has.

[ and then the pause, the glance up at Bruce's face. ] Right?

[ no hearts exploding? ]

[sublimating]

You want to make the body generate its own steroids. [a quick, amused smile at him, and then he gets to his feet, straightening out] Nice.

[some stretching. he's still thinking, but he needs to move]

[cleanedslate]

Well, when you put it like that, it sounds so potentially illegal. So, bonus points. [ with a crooked grin. he watches Bruce get up, but after a beat he gets it. leaning back on his hands, himself ]

Better use for the energy. Might slow the aging process down a little. Hey, marketable. [ further lipquirk ]

[sublimating]

You, ah... think commercializing it is an option down the line? [the tiniest fidget. no dog in this fight, certainly. nope]

[cleanedslate]

[ obviously not. his voice starts out casual ] I can definitely see where there might be some interest in a serum that could let people donate their kidneys -- bone marrow -- hearts -- and then grow those organs right back. [ it was a randomly-chosen example, but the significance catches in his throat a little anyway. dammit, he didn't want to bring that up. focus ]

[ he lifts his eyes to Bruce's, because ] But that's later. A lot later. If ever.

[ eyes on the sand again ] I don't make weapons anymore. I can put that in writing, if you need it.

[sublimating]

[a small smile] Yeah, well. You don't have to be making weapons to make one. [he spreads his hands a little] ...I was just working on increased resistance to radiation. [and, well, radiation poisoning isn't one of his problems!]

Seems like treatments that are... literally derived from a supersoldier formula are going to end up pretty weaponizable.

[taking a few drifting steps to nowhere in particular]

The world doesn't have a lot of Tony Starks in it. But if you give them the building blocks -- you've seen what can be done with them.

[cleanedslate]

[ ouch. yeah, he does. still: ]

So, fruit from the poisonous tree? Solve this problem and then burn the rest of it to the ground?

[ he's still looking at the sand. the math always looks so innocent. ]

[sublimating]

It's safe that way. Believe me, safe is... good.

[cleanedslate]

You hate what happened to you that much.

[ it would be a stupid question, so it's not one. he lifts his head to look over Bruce's expression. ]

[sublimating]

[it's the first time anyone has really taken that tactic with him. Tony's the only one who ever seems to think that the Hulk is something he should more than just tolerate, but celebrate]

I'm not -- a guy who was unhappy with my life. I'm not a guy who wanted to change anything, or do anything. [a little bit helplessly, although mostly under control. he smiles to himself, faint, and rubs his hands together. keep it self-recriminating. getting angry about it is... a bad move, of course] I only ever wanted to be normal.

[cleanedslate]

[ he nods, once, slightly sharp, and then he says ] Greener grass. Everyone wants what they can't have. Other cliches that aren't coming to mind right now. [ the wave of his hand is dismissive; the look in his eyes, still intent on Bruce's face, less so. ] Of course, I never really had a shot at normal, so I guess I'm not what you'd call unbiased.

[ casual addition is casual: ] Plus, I wouldn't actually be here today if it weren't for you and Larry the Cucumber.

[ definitely not unbiased ]

[sublimating]

Does that old chestnut apply when you got to live on the other side of the fence for half of your adult life? [he's smiling a bit, though. he gets it]

At least I'm in good company.

[cleanedslate]

[ getting it is the important part. he slides in, gets an arm around Bruce's shoulder ]

Literally the best company in the world. Part of a very exclusive club, as it happens.