Oh, he's totally lost it. It's shock that kept him mostly, uncharacteristically mute as Jolene natters on and on about Thorne, an info drop he only absorbs with a kind of wary numbness. Half his synapses are still firing on the recollection of the raging war less than a quarter of an hour ago. He's pretty sure he's dead.
He's pretty sure he doesn't know how to feel about that yet.
The living quarters aren't anything to write home about. Doesn't seem like the kind of place that would, say, make attempts to slice him open and read his entrails while he slept. Tony picks a bed and flops onto it, half expecting it to morph into the blackness of the void again, an illusion crafted just to ease the transition.
The mattress is plush, the comforter fluffy. He props himself up on an arm, addressing whoever else is in the place:
"Hey, wake me if any three-headed dogs show up, alright? Thanks."
Whatever the results of that conversation, he does make it to sleep.
Rest, even a couple hours of it, bring a little more clarity. Tony isn't exactly bouncing up onto his feet to go wandering, but the place also hasn't dissolved into ethereal dust as expected. Jolene said something about peril, about her boss being happy to see him, so, up he gets, shaking out the pins and needles in his arm.
In the library, he'll be a quiet presence thumbing through various books, set firm on learning more about the place. Noticed, he closes the volume with a soft snap, nodding at the book in their hands.
"Trade you?"
The dining hall gets a once-over for something edible that's actually familiar, but really it's food, he's starving, Tony is not gonna be too picky. Later, in the study hall, he listens attentively to the young mage's explanation of the little flame spell, and tries his best to put it to practice.
It doesn't quite help that his focus keeps wandering during the exercise, a thousand other things on his mind. With his tongue between his teeth, undeterred, he pulls in a slow breath and simply tries again, making his own incremental adjustments. The rt is gone, the suit's gone; the stones are back at home and he's relatively powerless. If this takes time to master, then he'll take the time to master it.
For the sake of covering all his bases- and the bases of those bases -he makes a trip to the dungeon like it's the Raft and he has special permission to be there. Maybe he's just looking for any(more?) familiar faces, those unlucky enough to wind up in such a place without so much as a choice.
Wildcard
( throw whatever you like at me, i'm game for all-comers. Tony here is fresh from the end of Endgame and, though freaked out, is trying to keep his shit together. )
tony stark | mcu | the magician
He's pretty sure he doesn't know how to feel about that yet.
The living quarters aren't anything to write home about. Doesn't seem like the kind of place that would, say, make attempts to slice him open and read his entrails while he slept. Tony picks a bed and flops onto it, half expecting it to morph into the blackness of the void again, an illusion crafted just to ease the transition.
The mattress is plush, the comforter fluffy. He props himself up on an arm, addressing whoever else is in the place:
"Hey, wake me if any three-headed dogs show up, alright? Thanks."
Whatever the results of that conversation, he does make it to sleep.
Rest, even a couple hours of it, bring a little more clarity. Tony isn't exactly bouncing up onto his feet to go wandering, but the place also hasn't dissolved into ethereal dust as expected. Jolene said something about peril, about her boss being happy to see him, so, up he gets, shaking out the pins and needles in his arm.
In the library, he'll be a quiet presence thumbing through various books, set firm on learning more about the place. Noticed, he closes the volume with a soft snap, nodding at the book in their hands.
"Trade you?"
The dining hall gets a once-over for something edible that's actually familiar, but really it's food, he's starving, Tony is not gonna be too picky. Later, in the study hall, he listens attentively to the young mage's explanation of the little flame spell, and tries his best to put it to practice.
It doesn't quite help that his focus keeps wandering during the exercise, a thousand other things on his mind. With his tongue between his teeth, undeterred, he pulls in a slow breath and simply tries again, making his own incremental adjustments. The rt is gone, the suit's gone; the stones are back at home and he's relatively powerless. If this takes time to master, then he'll take the time to master it.
For the sake of covering all his bases- and the bases of those bases -he makes a trip to the dungeon like it's the Raft and he has special permission to be there. Maybe he's just looking for any(more?) familiar faces, those unlucky enough to wind up in such a place without so much as a choice.
Wildcard
( throw whatever you like at me, i'm game for all-comers. Tony here is fresh from the end of Endgame and, though freaked out, is trying to keep his shit together. )