[Steve Rogers gets into the vehicle for fuck's sake. His very tall rather broad frame folds up neatly, a little bit reverse clown car. He has to immediately adjust the seat, which he starts to do quickly and without comment, only to find that the modified model is already shifting back, answering the optical sensors that tell it how long a Steve Rogers is. That is cool. He should probably be worried that the car is also about to cuff him and ship him off to jail, aND YET.
He also fastens his seatbelt of course. Protecting his entire person including ze testeecles.]
I almost called. [He's referring to the phone he sent Tony, along with his lengthy heartfelt letter. He looks out the window at the curb peeling away.] But I figured our problems have more tiers than most. How're you holding up, Tony?
no subject
He also fastens his seatbelt of course. Protecting his entire person including ze testeecles.]
I almost called. [He's referring to the phone he sent Tony, along with his lengthy heartfelt letter. He looks out the window at the curb peeling away.] But I figured our problems have more tiers than most. How're you holding up, Tony?