Fate? [Harry tilts his head, brows furrowed in curiosity.] Why would it be laughing in your face?
[For him, Oscorp is still an honor. His Norman wasn't nearly the merciless tyrant that Normie's is; he'd tried to do good things with his company. Naturally, Harry isn't quite wrapping his head around why owning Oscorp would be a bad thing.
Before he can mull over it much more, questions are posed to him and he has to slow down to consider them.] Liz Allan? We went to high school together. Haven't seen her since, though. Last I heard, she was dating another one of my classmates. [Flash Thompson, to be precise. MJ had been all twisted up about that one; it's the only reason he really remembers.] Why? [The second question confuses him more, and he almost reflexively insists, "Yes, of course!" until he realizes that he doesn't mean his father.
Norman Harold...? Harry can be daft sometimes, but the implication hasn't eluded him this time and he ends up staring intently at the other man. Like maybe the truth would unfold in front of him if he stared hard enough. Could this guy really be...?] I-- I don't know a Normie, no. I'm sorry. [A beat.] That's you, isn't it?
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[For him, Oscorp is still an honor. His Norman wasn't nearly the merciless tyrant that Normie's is; he'd tried to do good things with his company. Naturally, Harry isn't quite wrapping his head around why owning Oscorp would be a bad thing.
Before he can mull over it much more, questions are posed to him and he has to slow down to consider them.] Liz Allan? We went to high school together. Haven't seen her since, though. Last I heard, she was dating another one of my classmates. [Flash Thompson, to be precise. MJ had been all twisted up about that one; it's the only reason he really remembers.] Why? [The second question confuses him more, and he almost reflexively insists, "Yes, of course!" until he realizes that he doesn't mean his father.
Norman Harold...? Harry can be daft sometimes, but the implication hasn't eluded him this time and he ends up staring intently at the other man. Like maybe the truth would unfold in front of him if he stared hard enough. Could this guy really be...?] I-- I don't know a Normie, no. I'm sorry. [A beat.] That's you, isn't it?