Tony tosses the pencil he was using into the crease of the book, leaning back to rest against his palms set on the ground. Working free some tension from his neck with a tip of his head sideways. "Or altered. To something this world recognises. Any technology sufficiently advanced is indistinguishable from bullshit, you ever hear that?"
The glow from his chest isn't visible, here. He habitually wears clothing to disguise it, the thicker weave of his shirt laced up over it containing blue glow. He says, "What've you got for me?"
no subject
Tony tosses the pencil he was using into the crease of the book, leaning back to rest against his palms set on the ground. Working free some tension from his neck with a tip of his head sideways. "Or altered. To something this world recognises. Any technology sufficiently advanced is indistinguishable from bullshit, you ever hear that?"
The glow from his chest isn't visible, here. He habitually wears clothing to disguise it, the thicker weave of his shirt laced up over it containing blue glow. He says, "What've you got for me?"