Jonathan had a unique way of looking at the world, it was one of the things Naze had instilled in him, one of the things he was very grateful for. It had helped him create, think out side the box, and yes, it did occasionally give him a rather poetic air which never hurt. His smile warmed a bit as she took the teasing in good stride, it did take something to laugh at yourself. Had she tried to justify he would likely have left it alone, but the quiet urge to gently rib her about it would have surfaced again.
"I suppose it is," he agreed with a light shrug. He had carried the title so long, and it was so intuitively a part of his being that it had been quite a while since he had thought much of it. He extended his own hand to take the offered one, his metallic hand was warmer toward the wrist but cooler toward the fingers, thanks to his body's heat. It had no gabs between pieces of metal that would pinch skin, and felt very natural, not at all like a clumsy robot as the fingers wrapped around her hand. "Jonathan, I tend to be called Forge, though." He offered it offhand, most mutants on the island had nicknames, Nicholas himself was called "Fischer," which had nothing at all to do with his real name. Nicknames, code names, fighter names, whatever they were, were entirely rampant around here.
He shifted his weight back slightly at the question, running fingers down the shadow forming around his mouth and jaw as he pondered the correct way to answer that. "I create the locking system used in the Blocks, it was considered revolutionary back in the day, but that was a long while ago." Such a system had since been worked into most jails, not that he expected the prim businesswoman to know much about the inner working of the prison system. "But I suppose I am best known for the collars." He gave a light shrug and another sip. They were something of old news to him, invented twenty years ago, but they were still commonly used with few real alterations. Wait, didn't he have a custom collar to rig together? Yes, there was something about that before the Blocks had fallen. Forge absently rubbed at his temple, he must be getting old, he was staring to forget things. Or maybe it was just the stress of this disaster. Either way, he did not approve.