"Well, the world stage is definitely different," he admits as he stares intently at what now looks like the starting of a sketch of a small mechanical device. Tony Stark and the word Modesty were rarely words used in the same sentence together, but at least he'll be the first person to admit to it, also. "Mostly I just miss my things."

That's a lie, of course. Because of course Tony misses home. His fame and fortune and Pepper and his suits. His fingers itch so badly the can hardly stand it to build another. But he doesn't have the workspace. A place to keep the parts. The tools he needs. It would take months of gathering supplies without having to participate in arenas, given his limited resources, the extremely thorough security measures and no secure or feasible workspace. Throw a death match and constant dates and interviews... well, lets just say progress is going very slowly in even so much as an attempt at that endeavor.

He's not even aware he's doing it till it's halfway done. The sketch of a new suit design. Its a horrid pink and green and yellow and blue thing that looks like a Capitol wet dream. It's both hilarious and an abomination in one moment. At least, to Tony it is.

"You don't seem impressed. Not the world-saving sort, I take it?"