The lab goes absolutely quiet at my statement. Banners face goes carefully blank while Stark does his best impression of a fish on dry land, his mouth opening and closing a few times, with no words coming out. Finally, he manages to stutter out "Wh-that's ridiculous! I-he's my bodyguard, everyone knows that!"
Jesus, I hope he handles business negotiations with a better poker face than that "Mr. Stark, I might have only known you and your alter ego for about a day, but I do watch the news, and meeting you in person just made the connection obvious. First of all, Iron Man first appeared after you returned from your mysterious disappearance in Vietnam..."
"I got the idea for the armor during my imprisonment, I just wanted to build it to protect people-"
"-SECOND, there's the fact that despite supposedly being your bodyguard, Iron Man has never been recorded alongside you, not a single time, no matter where the picture was taken, or how high profile the target was."
"...that's just a coincidence, he keeps out of sight unless he's needed!"
"Uh-huh, but most of all, you're clearly wearing the chest plate under your suit. Even an expensive jacket can't hide the fact that you're wearing a metal plate under it."
Banners eyes widen in recognition as he looks closer at Stark and notices the same thing I had. Stark gapes for a few moment, before his shoulders slump in defeat and he hangs his head slightly. "Is it really that easy to tell?"
I shake my head "Probably not, I just happened to have met you both in person, and seeing you up close like this just made all the other pieces fit together." That, and a brain full of metaknowledge, but I'm keeping that to myself. "It's not like I'm going to tell anyone, but you should really come up with a better way to hide the chest plate, because there's no reason this can't happen again"
Stark sighs, tapping the chest plate through his jacket "Would that I could, but I'm afraid I have little choice in the matter, the electromagnet that powers the armor is also the only thing keeping a cluster of bomb shrapnel from turning my heart into a pin cushion... I've been tossing around ideas for other options, but as you might understand, I'm a bit reluctant to literally risk my life on any of them working as well as the magnet does."
Banner nods sympathetically "I did read in the papers about your disappearance in Vietnam, but they were surprisingly tight lipped about what exactly happened to you during your captivity. I take it the shrapnel is a memento from that?"
Stark nods "We ran into an ambush set up by a Chinese terrorist named Wong-Chu, and I was the only survivor. I managed to build my first version of the armor while I was held captive, but so far, there has been little I could do to fix my injury. Short of an outright transplant, I'm afraid I'm stuck with the chest plate for now."
I find myself wishing I could give him some sort of advice, but other than the arc reactor the movies used, I don't remember all that much about the other tech the comics used to keep Starks heart from getting turned into slurry, and even if I knew more about the reactor, it's not really that much of a step up. Atleast the chest plate won't end up giving him blood poisoning. I decide to just change the subject "Well, since we're sharing identities anyway, I might as well get this over with, though I'm afraid it won't be nearly as dramatic as yours." I tug down the bandana from the lower half of my face and remove my sunglasses, revealing my whole face for the first time. "The name is Johan Magnusson, random superpowered nobody. Nice to meet ya!"
"I thought your accent sounded Scandinavian. You from Minnesota or something?" Stark gets over his surprise quickly and shake my offered hand.
"Something like that." I do technically have some very distant relatives there, but so does virtually everyone from Sweden, but it works as an excuse. "Once my powers started showing up, I decided it was time to hit the road, my family and I were never that close, but I figured they'd probably notice when I started glowing."
Both Stark and Banner, neither of whom had anything resembling a healthy family life if the comics were correct, give eachother a knowing look. Stark is the first to speak again. "Well, let's make sure you put those powers of yours to good use atleast! You ready for some more testing?"
"As ready as I'll ever be!"
....
The sun is beginning to set by the time I make it back to my room at the mansion, surprised that I'm not feeling more tired after the testing Stark and Banner put me through, if anything I feel myself almost buzzing with energy. Thanks to Stark's advice and knowledge about light physics, he's already given me a few more possible uses for my powers; illusions and solid light constructs. Right now, the most I can do with either is a few blurry shapes that disappear after a minute or two, but it's a start.
Stepping into my room, I pull off my bandana and sunglasses, tossing them on the dresser by the bed, and walk into the almost obscenely large bathroom. At my old place, there was barely room for a shower, but the bathtub in here is the size of a small car. Shaking my head, I turn towards the mirror over the sink, thinking about something that's been bothering me since I left the lab. My hair.
I run my hand through the mohawk atop my head, the cut starting to look unkempt from a weeks worth of neglect. While not exactly common in my own time, here it's making me stand out even more than I already am, and while the bandana covers my face and my beard, my hair was giving me odd looks even back in Arizona. If I'm going to atleast try to have a double identity here, there's really only one solution.
I glance down at the shaving kit by the water tap, still in it's packaging, and sigh.
Maybe I'll try to grow my hair out long, hippe-style, but for now, this'll have to do.
.....
It's a virtual stranger than stares back at me from the mirror once the razor has done it's job, I've had very short hair before in my life, but I've never literally been bald before. Still, it'll let me pass a bit more on the street, even if my height still makes me stand out, especially in 1963. I give myself a once-over, making sure I haven't missed any spots, give my beard a quick trim, before finishing up and heading back out.
Standing in the middle of the room, I realize I don't actually have any other plans for the evening. Stark and Banner were still busy working when I left them back at the lab, and as far as I know, the mansion is empty, though I'm fairly certain Edwin Jarvis is lurking around somewhere in here. I slip open the panoramic doors and step out on the small balcony outside, leaning against the railing as I let my mind wander, watching the sun set over the skyline of New York.
I find myself thinking back to my money, or rather, my lack thereof. While I still have about 50 bucks left of what I got in Arizona, that's not going to last long, even with room and board provided by Stark, and while quickly grabbing some more is easy enough, especially with the tricks Stark taught me about my powers, that's really not something I want to make a habit of, especially not if I'm going to be an Avenger.
I could try selling photos of myself fighting crime, but I think Peter Parker already has dibs on that scam.
Well, if I'm going to go the superhero route, I might as well check out the city while I'm thinking about my crippling financial situation, Marvel was always pretty insistent that their heroes be near-destitute to make them more relatable or whatever. Besides, this is 1963, the beginning of New Yorks downturn, so if nothing else, maybe I can grab a few bucks off some street criminals.
I quickly grab my backpack from the side of the bed, slipping my bandana and sunglasses inside it, and step back onto the balcony, taking a deep breath as I focus my powers, and in a flash, a streak of light begins heading toward New York City.