There should have been more than enough to complain about without having to be as creative as Noriko was about it, but, hell, Tony hadn't been a teenager for a long time. Maybe losing the city to a zombie plague felt like a regular day at that stage. Or maybe he was the one that was too used to it and knew how he was supposed to react, because he should have been the one the city could rely upon to keep the sun rising on bad traffic jams and worse coffee on the way to a long day at regular, boring, non-cannibalistic work. Inside the suit, he counted out a steadying breath while raising a finger to his faceplate in a poor parody of a hush. "We'll get him something to eat at the Tower," he murmured, hoping that would satisfy her and laying his hands out flat; that was all he had to put on the table here. Then he gestured, follow, and stepped as lightly as he could through the narrow alleys between the tightly jammed cars, forced up onto the sidewalks before abandoned as people tried to flee the city on foot. Other than them, the street was silent, the shuffling masses distracted to some other corner for the time being, as long as Iron Man and Noriko didn't give them any excuse to look this way.