[Well, fuck, it IS him. Okay, now the question is which Vision it is. His soul-dad, or his dead friend. Neither answer has an easy solution. Tommy moves, quick as a thought, halfway down a table to look up at Vision.]
Tommy. Next question then.
[Fuck, he doesn't know what to ask to really separate the two. Granted he has an infinite time to think, seconds stretching out endlessly as he sorts through ideas. A normal person wouldn't even notice that the second delay before he speaks is a hesitation for him.]
no subject
Tommy. Next question then.
[Fuck, he doesn't know what to ask to really separate the two. Granted he has an infinite time to think, seconds stretching out endlessly as he sorts through ideas. A normal person wouldn't even notice that the second delay before he speaks is a hesitation for him.]
What century tech were you made from?