[There is a growing pile of carpets, tools, paintings, dry wall— if it can be used to soundproof it's showing up outside of the deck of house one. Appliances and hardware that might potentially be useful in the future are scattered here and there like markers. And car batteries. So many car batteries. Tony himself has the sleeves of his most-definitely-not-the-tailored-five-figure-suit-he-arrived-in jumpsuit rolled up despite the temperature. It's not particularly a walk in the park to do this silently. The restriction is, in fact, making this take five times longer than it should. The temptation to say screw it and go sulk in the reset room with a pair of pliers and a coffee maker until he can finish a sound dampener is high.

And he would if he hadn't been locked away for several days starving and dehydrated in it. Bad memories. He'll keep his distance.

If you're passing by through his maze of junk, good luck. Try not to get in the way when he inevitably arrives lugging some new sacrifice to the growing dump. And yes, if you make it far enough through his stuff that is a media case stocked with alcohol. He is, but a mortal man.]

[Tony's been sitting on an overturned box a ways from the fire. Nursing a drink, not being particularly sociable, but he's not hiding in a dark doorway either. He's been people watching mostly. And rolling his eyes at the increasingly explicit PDA going on.

The real story of the evening though is one of the new arrivals. It grows more blatant over the course of the evening something's up. Half the population present can't take their eyes off the stranger and puerile fights are breaking out over the merest flick of apparently captivating eyes. Tony wouldn't know what the attraction is. He just sees another displaced joe in an ill-fitting jumpsuit. The effect on everyone else, though. That's pretty familiar. Disturbingly so. Bad memories kind of disturbing.

As such halfway through the evening Tony stands up and approaches the stranger, grabbing them by the arm to keep them from walking away. Up comes his device to make up for the sign language he hasn't yet mastered:]

What are you doing to these people.

[There's an hard look to go with the demand. Probably wasn't the slickest move to do this in front of so many people vying for the stranger's affection. Hindsight....]

Want something else throw it at me, no plotting needed. I'll roll! Tony will be drinking the MysteryJuice™ a suitable distance away from the fire so that he's not first pickings if anything chooses to crash the party (safety first, kids). He's also unaffected by the stranger if someone needs/wants the spell broken (though heads up he'll be a complete ass first before he touches anyone :, ) last resorts).