Water trickles down thin wrists (who could ever want to torture him badly enough to drive nails through?) to elbows as Jesus does not for even a moment pause, his smile so effortlessly in tact. "I have heard such a thing be said, yes." He hangs out with hipsters and punk rock revolutionists. Throwing around terms like these is natural to them.

His hands stay cupped about level with the reactor, eyes focused solely on Tony, waiting for him to bow his head.

"I don't believe such a thing is possible. God would not allow it and if it was true, He would not have sent me with his message of love."