"And here I am all out of fennel." Tony's lips twist despite himself, something deeply rooted in his chest curling up and twisting. Like a knife dragging along his ribs from the inside and- no, he'd rather not dig into that. "Just- I'll see if we've got an extract in the medical kit. We've been playing around with tinctures- I say we but I mean Bruce and Peter."

The Chemists, the Biologists, the people that handle the people sciences rather than the technology that Tony lives and breathes.