"Six and a half, maybe seven with the bee stings. But you probably clean up nice." Tony offers graciously, stepping inside. The markings are- odd, for a moment he's reminded of Strange and his mandalas which segues quite neatly into watching the man himself dissolve because of That Thing That Happened that he's trying very hard not to think about, so. Yanking his eyes back to Constantine? Preferable.

Especially under the guise of gauging his physical appeal. Not bad, not really, but without the bee stings he'd have a better idea. "Mother was."

Tried to get him involved too but, it didn't stick. "Kind of something I need to crack, back home."