NOTES: Good morning! Today we're going to look at Tony. Enjoy!


Drunken

Tony's benders grow fewer and far between. It helps having other people around him all the time, not only for the company and camaraderie but also to have others dipping into his various stashes of alcohol. But the drunken nights still creep up on him every now and again. Usually the combination of a close call in battle while Pepper is out of town is what do him in, which is not a good thing. It means waking up with the mother of all hangovers and a worried sick girlfriend speaking over you quickly, loudly, and at a high pitch.

Beat

He hates to admit it, but he's getting old. He's certainly feeling old. Granted he is in his forties and has partied, battled, and lived hard enough for five average humans, so he supposes he's due. But it doesn't make things any easier. He cracks jokes at Steve about how he maintains his youthful physique despite being in his nineties, but it's just a thinly veiled attempt to garner information. Tony is half-tempted to help Bruce work on replicating the super soldier serum if it means getting out of bed doesn't take five minutes of moaning and pain every day.

Disappearing

His teammates regularly give him crap for wandering off to his workshop and not emerging for at least thirty hours. Tony shrugs it off. He doesn't do it on purpose. He can't control what his brain makes him do; surely there's enough evidence in his life to make that statement true. He can't control the singular focus that comes with being a genius. It's also because of how he was raised. His father would stay at work until a new weapon was finished regardless of how long it took. This behavior is what Tony was raised to believe is normal.

Forthcoming

He says it first, those three little yet huge words. The first time it counts anyway—not in bed, not in the aftermath of a battle, not when Pepper has saved his company yet again. She looks surprised. He shrugs. "I do."

"I didn't think you'd say it so soon."

"You know there isn't a filter between my brain and mouth." He doesn't give her the change to return the phrase, moving on to the next topic of conversation. He doesn't want to put pressure on her, and doesn't want to risk the chance of hearing her say something else.

Sung

The constant stream of data and equations singing in his brain is a blessing and a curse. It drives him crazy some nights and soothes on others. As fast as he can think, it's still not quick enough to keep up with what his mind is capable of. Those are the times it drives him crazy, when his brain knows something, is trying to communicate and put it into something understandable, but Tony can't keep up. It's frustrating knowing the answer is inside you yet you're still unable to put your hands on it and pull it out to see.