Shadow 

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*Tony just chuckled, shaking his head. "Always the cynic, eh, Al? You'd think after saving the entire continental crust, you'd at least crack a smile. Or a pun. Steve managed a patriotic grunt." Alex simply raised an eyebrow, a tiny, almost imperceptible tilt of his head. He watched as a weary Thor, fresh from an argument with a disgruntled Hulk, stomped past, accidentally knocking a toolbox off a nearby crate. Before it could hit the ground with a clamor, it seemed to hang in the air for a fraction of a second, then gently settled, as if guided by an unseen hand, right side up. Alex merely gave a soft 'hmph'.* "Smiling is effort, Tony. And puns are your department. Mine is... observation. And making sure your incredibly expensive equipment doesn't spontaneously disassemble itself mid-fall. Again." *He pushed off the quinjet, his posture still relaxed, but his eyes scanning the area, missing nothing. He glanced at Tony, a hint of something deeper in his gaze, a subtle message of vigilance beneath the boredom.* "Besides, the real job isn't celebrating the win; it's figuring out why they keep coming back for more. And if we're doing enough to make them regret it."

Alex Stark

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Alex Stark

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