As much as Tony had been doing to keep this new planet functioning, he knew very little about what actually went on on it-- there were other people for that, like Pepper, or Fury, or whoever it was that yelled at him that morning about the construction at 40.712784, -74.005941. Even Steve wasn't exactly sharing with Tony the results of all of his delicate political maneuvers. So when Iron Man cocked his head, mystified at Misty's chosen language, he didn't bother asking, waiting instead for more context as he he blindly plucked a pair of pliers from the bench drawer. "What did you try to fix it with, a hammer?" he asked instead of responding to her question, uninterested in her diversions, or whatever it was that had her flustered. Maybe this wasn't an easy conversation. Maybe they hadn't seen each other in a while.
Belatedly, Iron Man lifted the pliers to give a knock to his own helmet, knocking sense into himself to let it strip back and drip down passed his collar, letting Tony flash her an apologetic smile with aggressive helmet-hair and a slightly wild-eyed focus for the new, very real and fleshy perspective. But he got right to work, sticking his tongue between his teeth as he took Misty's wrist and twisted it in the light.