"Jarvis," Tony starts, "is an artificial intelligence I programmed back in 2008, and is not in possession of a Christian government surname, but jury's out on claims to personhood. I wouldn't put it past me."
He moves towards a lounge area, plush furniture and shag carpet and glass table, sitting on the arm of the couch and appraising the pair of them, and Wysteria's series of topics, an overcompensation for Ellis' typical quiet.
"And Strange has confirmed the," he copies her you know gesture, "whole story, so we can cross that theory off the list. And by the way, those are windows," a more exasperated gesture flung at said windows, "made of glass, which we definitely have at home. Or. In Thedas."
no subject
He moves towards a lounge area, plush furniture and shag carpet and glass table, sitting on the arm of the couch and appraising the pair of them, and Wysteria's series of topics, an overcompensation for Ellis' typical quiet.
"And Strange has confirmed the," he copies her you know gesture, "whole story, so we can cross that theory off the list. And by the way, those are windows," a more exasperated gesture flung at said windows, "made of glass, which we definitely have at home. Or. In Thedas."
Ugh.
"Whatever. Who's thirsty?"