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Tony Stark (sansiron) wrote in silverage,

Tony gave a short laugh and quickly reached past Selina to pull over the small bowl of nuts and pretzles sitting atop the bar. He left it to sit between them after taking a few. "'Okay' is a pretty broad term," he answered after a moment. "I have a piece of metal buried in my chest keeping other --smaller-- piece of metal from piercing me in the heart, resulting in a slow and likely very painful death. The piece of technology keeping me alive also has the potential to wipe a small country off a map if wired and packaged properly. A country about the size of Vietnam, coincidentally."

He finally took that sip of alcohol, topping it off with a pretzel. "I'm okay in the sense that I'm still alive and not being stabbed to death by shrapnel-- did I mention that it's Vietcong shrapnel? Or, rather, Stark Industries shrapnel as fired by the VC a few years back when they purchased my discards off the black market." Tony smirked, a look that was only becoming more and more self deprecating with every sip of alcohol.

"Lyndon --that's President Johnson to you-- wants more weapons, because apparently we can go to war without congressional approval these days. More weapons, more shrapnel to fall into the Charlies' hands. He wants this," Tony said, tapping the metal that peeked out from underneath the top of his shirt. "And the Pentagon's convinced him that if I make it for them exclusively, no one else will ever get their hands on it. As if my father didn't work on Hiroshima not more than twenty-five years ago. And you know what? I might give it to them."

Tony finished and leaned back in his chair, eyeing Selina. "So am I okay, Miss. Kyle?"