[ It really doesn’t take him long to find the place. JARVIS picks up a higher concentration of energy output, plots it on a makeshift map of the city around them, and Tony follows it. A few casually asked questions to passersby, six minutes, and a dash of luck later, he finds himself standing before a building that proclaims itself Turtleworld’s version of Stark Industries.
Tony can’t deny that it’s strange seeing such a prominent aspect of his life in a different world and knowing that he had nothing to do with its creation. Him personally. Somewhere out there – he tries to ignore the way his mind automatically offers up the mental image of a mouse in a dress singing off-key about a long-lost family – there’s another guy named Tony Stark, who looks like him, possesses some incredibly similar aspects of his life, and has recreated his company in an unfamiliar, impossible to believe world. He doesn’t like the way it makes him feel, so he keeps walking, heading inside like he has ever right to be there and isn’t some ghost haunting the bones of a life that was never his.
To utilize the suit’s HUD, he’s had to put the helmet back on, and he’s wearing it when he steps into the lab that he’s told by a bewildered employee belongs to Bruce. He spots him immediately, and the way Bruce smiles at him, like he’s genuinely happy to see him - Not you. No one wants you. - makes his gut clench with something a little too much like guilt for his peace of mind. Thank fuck for the helmet, which lets him school his face into the kind of rakish, devil-may-care negligence he puts on every time he’s in public. ]
In the metal.
[ He taps a finger against his chestplate, like he needs to explain why he substituted metal for flesh in that quip. Then he takes off the helmet, acting for all the world as though he hadn’t just been weird on the video as he looks around. ]
This is your new digs, huh? Very stylish. Gotta be an improvement on Timbuktu or wherever it was. Little too neat and organized, though. Almost seems like you can actually get work done in here.
no subject
Tony can’t deny that it’s strange seeing such a prominent aspect of his life in a different world and knowing that he had nothing to do with its creation. Him personally. Somewhere out there – he tries to ignore the way his mind automatically offers up the mental image of a mouse in a dress singing off-key about a long-lost family – there’s another guy named Tony Stark, who looks like him, possesses some incredibly similar aspects of his life, and has recreated his company in an unfamiliar, impossible to believe world. He doesn’t like the way it makes him feel, so he keeps walking, heading inside like he has ever right to be there and isn’t some ghost haunting the bones of a life that was never his.
To utilize the suit’s HUD, he’s had to put the helmet back on, and he’s wearing it when he steps into the lab that he’s told by a bewildered employee belongs to Bruce. He spots him immediately, and the way Bruce smiles at him, like he’s genuinely happy to see him - Not you. No one wants you. - makes his gut clench with something a little too much like guilt for his peace of mind. Thank fuck for the helmet, which lets him school his face into the kind of rakish, devil-may-care negligence he puts on every time he’s in public. ]
In the metal.
[ He taps a finger against his chestplate, like he needs to explain why he substituted metal for flesh in that quip. Then he takes off the helmet, acting for all the world as though he hadn’t just been weird on the video as he looks around. ]
This is your new digs, huh? Very stylish. Gotta be an improvement on Timbuktu or wherever it was. Little too neat and organized, though. Almost seems like you can actually get work done in here.