“What, like an ethereal Roomba? That’d be a sight.” Strange cracks the joke gamely, amiably, still squinting at the glowing inscriptions — before he realises a moment later, crestfallen, that the bystander might not know what a Roomba is. So many of his references have been falling on deaf ears and blank unimpressed stares from all the locals. He has no idea how Stark’s survived it, pop culture evaporating into a vacuum.

But as his attention shifts back to who spoke, he glances up at the girl — and her clothing screams rifter. He never thought he’d be so glad to see a hoodie. His expression brightens, and he climbs back up to his feet with a little grunt, dusting off his knees. His back aches; getting older is no joke.

“You look like you took a wrong turn after gym class.”