"It's a special curvature propulsion system." That much was clear, but what it was doing in Wanda's possession in an unfamiliar loft was a lot more complicated to Tony. Only after he had approached the machine, observing it's fizzing energy and sniffing the air with his hands clasped behind his back, away from further possible complications, did he consider the entire situation. The call, while initially unexpected, didn't take persuasion or details to convince him to lend Wanda a hand; the fact that she was asking at all was intriguing enough, and Tony thought only briefly on the flight across town that it must not have been a predicament so much as a trap. Would she do that to him? She might not have figured out yet that it didn't take desperate acts to get his attention, but it had been a long week and he really wasn't in the mood for the fireworks. That's what the Avengers were supposed to be for, and Iron Man had signed out.
Still, there was no hesitation as he approached the strange address and circled the building for the fire escape to land. As the Iron Man retreated and reformed into something more casual for the neighbourhood, he knocked on the window to get invited in, already locked on to Wanda's unique predicament. There weren't a lot of situations where someone happened to find herself a time machine. "I don't think it matches the decor, although it is a good starting point for an upgrade," he advised, making himself at home and dropping into a seat. A little wartime, postmodern, kitsch, no real direction, terrible for the brain energy.