The details hadn't really been that important to Tony to convey, so he hadn't gone in anticipating exploring them, especially with that kind of aesthetic focus. How alter-Wicked did her hair, maybe, if it was a good idea. This level of anxiety-tinged interest, though, was way outside of his chill-out margins for this get-together. He took his time sipping his drink, watching Wicked out of the corner of his eye, before he answered curtly, "Didn't see one." Okay, that was a lie, but as much as it turned out he didn't want to know about his other self, he assumed some insulation from other-Wicked's poorer habits was a quiet kindness. "Or do you mean--" he started with some confusion, because what she described was familiar, but Tony hadn't given her any suggestion of the theatrics of the actual reaping.
It didn't sound like his story had much novelty value anymore. Tony was quiet again for a beat, frowning thoughtfully down at Wicked's gifts before idly searching the group around them for the shock of white hair. "Yeah, so--" he said, shaking it all off to remember how they got here, "That place, maybe--Well, it didn't seem friendly to anyone of a certain age," he laughed.