It may have been the dead of night but Damon knew precisely where Stark was at that hour. Follow the smell of coffee, scotch, maybe martinis, and the sound of rock music. Bingo. Stark. Of course he didn't need to follow the smell since he and Tony shared the workshop. Damon had no complaints so far, which was the equivalent of a compliment.

His feet fell heavily on the workshop's concrete floor; the soles of his boots made solid thuds that echoed off the walls. He moved towards Stark's part of the room.
"Hey, Stark. Can I get some assist?" he asked.

[[OOC: For heartofiron]]

If Steve Rogers knows anything, it's how to sneak into tall buildings.

Lots of ledges and convenient handholds to climb with, and I carry suction cups and grapples for the glass buildings. Plus, Tony wants it to be easy to get to his penthouse, at least for me.

Of course, "easy" for a Super-Soldier isn't necessarily the same for everyone else. Still, it's a surprise to Steve when after what only feels like about three or four floors' worth of climbing, he reaches the balcony with the tall bay window that signifies Tony Stark's penthouse suite.

Huh. That was fast; I didn't think I'd worked out that much.

Not thinking much of it, Steve hops up onto the balcony and crosses to the glass double-doors. He notices the curtains with some interest. White and translucent? Tony's are usually red velvet and opaque...the better for mood lighting, he says.

Still, he rationalizes, maybe the billionaire's developed an exhibitionist streak. Kinky, he thinks with a smirk as he pulls the ornate handle and steps into the room.

"...Tony?"

Almost before he closes the door behind him, he notices something's wrong. The room is decorated expensively, but not as over-the-top decadent as Tony usually prefers to go. In fact, it's almost utilitarian. Rubbing the back of his head, he looks around, seeing nothing familiar, nor any sign of who the room belongs to.

Damn. Wrong balcony after all. Just need to climb a few floors higher...

But as he turns back to the balcony to leave, he stops dead in his tracks.

Where'd Manhattan go?!

Instead of skyscrapers and city streets, a huge, well-manicured lawn and a forested lake greet his eyes. He's staring out of one of the spare bedrooms of someone's mansion, rather than the penthouse suite of his former teammate.

Even the balcony itself looks completely different. Steve puts a hand to his forehead in disbelief, shaking his head.

"And I thought tonight was going to be fun..."

Where the hell am I?!

When Tony noticed something was wrong, it was already too late.

In a matter of seconds his viewscreen filled with endless strings of code, quickly spilling over the designated corners of his field of vision. It vanished too fast to read, but Tony could quickly deduct the message 'I am so screwed'.
His armor cancelling flight mode and plummeting to the ground might have been another indicator.

Since Tony spent a considerable amount of his free time getting smacked around by men in brightly coloured tights, his armor thankfully had some automatic safety protocols that engaged as he hit the ground, making sure he didn't break his neck. Still, there he laid for the moment, immobilizied and trapped in his own armor like a ladybug on its back. Not the right kind of weapon for someone claustrophobic, that's for sure... now where did whatever-it-was bring me? It doesn't look like New York to me.

No one seemed to be expecting him, which was a relief. Not to praise himself, but his armor usually didn't malfunction like Windows ME with a herd of trojan horses galloping over the hard drive. Manipulation?

Even after restarting, his motion functions were rather limited, but he could sit up and take a look around. The garden of the X-Mansion. That was... bizarre.

After running a quick scan of his system that revealed he wouldn't be walking up the driveway and ringing the doorbell before he got ol' shellhead into a workshop, Tony took the liberty of hacking into the X-Men communication system. Not the most gentleman-like thing to do, surely, but there was the possibility Magneto had pulled him here by his iron butt.

"Iron Man to my honoured mutant colleagues. It's not my style to kick down the metaphorical front door like this, but would anyone care to explain why I'm here? Not to accuse you, of course, but any problems you know off?"