[ Stark is sick like Jane Foster? Cocking her head, Loki nods and acquiesces without probing for more details just yet. Technically she can teleport without any warning, there one moment and gone the next, but the gradual brightening of their surroundings allows for anyone riding shotgun to have some warning and brace themselves for the smooth, if disorientating, ride. When the light dies down the world has changed significantly; aircon hums quietly in an otherwise silent apartment, a kitchenette to one side of a spacious living area with a corridor leading off adjacently. The rampant noise and bustle of the tunnels is gone, replaced with a clean modern sanctuary.

Loki continues to stare at Tony from underneath her lashes, thumb running absently over his knuckles as if she might upend more answers with a touch. ]

Food's in there, beds and showers are that way. Make yourself at home. Um, [ additionally, ] if you want a quiet life don't visit the other floors. There are a handful of your team here but from more alternate realities, not just ours. They're much younger and stupider.