Owner	Pose
Clark Kent	Sometimes being a mild-mannered reporter means covering science news. Stereotypically this means taking a tiny bit of information from a befuddled scientist, taking it wildly out of proportion, and raking in the hate clicks. Clark Kent didn't report that way, but sometimes it felt like it; no one wanted to believe that Professor Quantum was eaten by his own miniature black hole, that then learned regret. Metropolis science news tended to read more like Jules Verne than Carl Sagan, though Clark supposed both of those references are dated. Still that arguably made him perfect for this job. To pick the Hulk's brain. Clark knows that's unfair; as far as he's aware, Doctor Banner is almost a separate identity to the Hulk, or at least his accident made them nearly separate intelligence. The details are complicated and, quietly, seen as Avengers business. But he's not here as Superman: he's here as Clark Kent, to listen to one of the leading minds of the nation finally talk about something other than being eight feet tall and invincible again. And in case something does happen, Clark's already memorized the exits on the little, very discreet stage that's been set up by totally not SHIELD agents in disguise.
Bruce Banner	And sometimes, being a mild-mannered scientist means anything in the world today, but by appearance alone, one might not guess that from (Doctor) Robert Bruce Banner. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Dr. Banner has been relatively quiet lately. Lowkey. Out of sight and mind. Perhaps less surprisingly, his big, green alter ego has been having likewise. So much so, that one of his more frequent handlers put up "Days Without Hulk" sign in the Avengers mansion. Bruce wasn't particularly amused. But more notably, Bruce has set himself on working on a variety of projects while keeping to himself and to his lab. Save for the occasional passing meeting with one of his teammates or the check-in with someone who is definitely not his parole officer for the day, he has appeared very little. That changed when he got an email from one Clark Kent asking for an interview. He furrowed his brow. He wrung his hands. He waffled on whether to take it. Whether it was SAFE to take it. And yet, here he is, entering this little discrete stage, thankful there's not much of an audience. He breathes deeply, rhythmically, sinking into the best pair of khakis and dress shirt he could find on short notice. He extends a hand. "Mr. Kent," Bruce says, "I was honestly surprised when I got your email." Bruce inhales, then exhales, more subtly. "I don't get much company these days for..." he pauses. "A variety of reasons."
Clark Kent	Clark smiles that pleasant, midwestern smile of his. His sheer inoffensiveness has gotten him through a few dangerous interviews before, without even having to rely on bulletproof skin or the strength to change the course of a river. Clark's handshake is, like much of him, mild; Kent certainly has the build for a real bone crusher of a handshake, but instead it's polite, firm, but wouldn't melt butter on a summer day. "I'm pleased you could find the time to talk with me, Doctor Banner." Clark says, sitting down in a comfortable looking armchair opposite a similar one for Bruce. "I understand you have an incredibly busy schedule." Five seconds without a Hulk reference, this'll be a snap. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." "The schedule that is." Clark smiles again, it's not quite a joke but it is something designed to relax any anxiety in the room. Clark Kent is easy to talk to; he's just aggressively NORMAL in his body language. "I understand the Avengers have arranged to give you access to a laboratory?"
Bruce Banner	Bruce's handshake is nothing to write home about. It's not complete milquetoast, but it's got the feel of someone who has had to learn not to be. He smiles a tired smile. "It's no trouble, Mr. Kent. To be honest, I'm told I do, in fact, have to come out of my lab sometime." He moves to seat himself in the opposing chair. "Ah, is that what they're saying now? Well, for a while it was pretty open, but I'm managing to keep myself busy these days." Bruce chuckles, sliding down into the seat. "That's right," Bruce says. "It's nothing on the level of say, Dr. Pym or Tony Stark, but it's reasonable enough for my purposes." Beat. "We can't all be world-changing entrepreneurs I guess, can we?" Bruce smiles, then inhales slightly. It's subtle, but there. Deep breath.
Clark Kent	'Milksop', isn't that what General Ross kept calling him? Definitely something Clark's keeping to himself for now, as he eases into his chair and starts to really focus on the conversation. Sure his Super Hearing can still pick up a lot, Bruce's bubbling internal chemistry being a point of interest, but he's learned to tune the world out a long time ago. Who knows what he'd be like if he couldn't. "Both men you've collaborated with before." Clark says, jotting a few notes down in old fashioned shorthand. "So this is an independent working environment right now, or are you still working with your fellow." Ease off the Avengers angle, Clark, this isn't about them yet. "Colleagues? What is a day at Banner Labs like, so to speak?"
Bruce Banner	"Banner Labs," Bruce repeats, sitting up in his chair slightly. "That's a bit bigger I'd say than the operation I have going." He manages a weak smile. "I'm just one guy, you know?" He chuckles. It's a bit forced, but he tried, at least. "One guy wanting to do a little good for the world." Banner leans back in the chair and runs a hand through his hair. It's a bit of a mess, and this tic does little to help it. "But no, Mr. Kent, I mostly work alone for now. I'm pretty good at keeping to myself these days, though there are certainly some talented minds with the Avengers." Bruce glances into the distance, seeing his reflection briefly. Something seems to grab his attention and he turns away before inhaling again. "I don't want to bore you, Mr. Kent, but I've been particularly invested in more...humanitarian causes, lately. Medical research. Alternative energy." Bruce smiles. "You might say I know a little bit about going green."
Clark Kent	Bruce. Bruce no. Bruce they're going to think you mean privatized gamma Bruce no. None of this shows on Clark's face because he is a professional, goddamnit, and because there is a faint chance his fear is true. It wouldn't be the first time, would it? On the other hand what a quote. Clark leans forward, scribbling furiously while never taking his eyes off of Bruce. It may be a little unnerving if Clark isn't careful. "The energy crisis is only boring to the inattentive, Doctor Banner. Please, go on. What sort of medical advances? And what kind of alternative energy, exactly? A reliable source of power everyone can agree on living with has been a white whale for the western world forover thirty years, after all."
Bruce Banner	Bruce looks down, then reaches up to work the bridge of his nose between two fingers. That's right, Bruce, he tells himself, make the joke. Is that what it is now? Is that what he is now? No one's laughing, Bruce. He listens with his eyes close to the scribbling of notes. The steady tapping of the graphite against parchment. It rings it his ears for a moment, bouncing around in his head. Scratching at the paper, scratching at something beneath the surface, but. No. Bruce sits up and gives Clark a lopsided smile. "That's very astute of you, Mr. Kent. It is a pressing issue. Banner leans forward and clasps his hands together. Deep breaths, Bruce. He sits up. "Medicine was my first love, so to speak," he starts, "but let's talk a bit about energy first, since you mentioned that." Bruce inhales. "What I think is key is not just safety, but accessibility. There's always a balance," Bruce holds up his hands, "between making sure it's open, available. Not overly tied down by bureaucracy or corporate gr--interests." Bruce's heart starts to beat a little faster. "Corporate interests." He wrings his hands. "While also not opening up Pandora's box, so to speak."
Clark Kent	Superman notices. He can't not notice. But would Clark Kent? Probably. His other self is compassionate, and empathetic when he's not an emotional coward. Would he say something so personal to someone he's just met? No. Laugh at the joke next time, Clark, Superman thinks, wishing this were going a bit better. "Certainly." Clark says as Bruce asks for a focus on the energy problem. "What are some of your solutions to striking this balance? As in vogue as anti-corporate sentiment is, nothing seems to happen without the private sector's approval." Clark says, tapping his eraser on his notepad gently. "And the public has been made very aware of a Pandora's Box scenario, and the answer seems to be 'as long as it's not in my backyard'. How do you hope to combat this?"
Bruce Banner	Bruce rubs his hands together, nodding slowly. That is the question, isn't it, Bruce? It's always about the big man with the power calling the shots for the little guy. Isn't that a familiar feeling? But do they do when someone bigger comes along and-- Bruce shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. His watch beeps once, then stops again. He tugs down his sleeve over it. "Well, Mr. Kent, that's a great point. I think what's key is making it competitive." Bruce manages another tired smile. "The power of the free market, as they say? But then that leads to the other problem. One person might offer affordable electricity, but what if another decides weapon tech is more profitable? That's the situation I want to avoid, so I think the key is taking it slowly, for now, and small enough scale to do small trial runs, with plenty of fail-safes." Bruce sits up. "But if I'm honest, Mr. Kent? Sometimes I'm tempted to throw it out and build a better wind turbine." He smiles, a bit more genuinely this time.
Clark Kent	That one gets an honest chuckle out of Clark. The beeping watch is a surprise, as is Bruce pretending it wasn't. Maybe it's a cell phone he forgot to switch off. Banner's proposal is a little vague, but Clark can always wring hard details out of whatever assistance he has running the lab. Clearly whatever hard innovations he has up his sleeve he's saving for later. Still, "Well, while we have a few more minutes, did you have anything to say on the medical field?"
Bruce Banner	Bruce shifts in his seat. His shoulders drop a bit, losing some tension as he exhales. "That one I can't take too much credit for, Mr. Kent. I actually received a message from a couple of grad students--you'll forgive me if I don't say where--wanting to pick my brain about the use of gamma's mutagenic properties on the micro level...ah," Bruce catches himself. "I'm rambling. They wanted to ask about using it to strength t-cells, you know, for immune response."
Clark Kent	Clark's first thought is Kara's new friends blowing something up, which makes him feel guilty. No, his first thought is, SOME TIME AGO, "You're a FOOL Superman." The smooth voice coming out of the sneering, bloated head of the Leader was always disturbing, even if Clark wasn't bound in unbreakable duranium chains. "Your precious blood has given my partner and I the tools to create the ultimate infection!" "Kryptonculus!" The albino ape hooted, leaning in: no matter his body, Superman could recognize the arrogance behind the mad Ultra-Humanite, "The living tumor!" "And with the man of steel crippled from within, the world follows." The Leader hisses, eyes glowing with malice, "What could save you now, alien?" NOW, "That sounds great!" Clark says, forcing a positive attitude. Clark Kent is an optimist. Clark Kent has never fought a living tumor god his oldest enemy made out of a chemistry set. "Why don't you tell me the details over a cup of coffee? Ah, decaf? For my blood pressure."