While subsections of his mind remained separately engaged, his talk attempted to maintain some focus on the present subject, nodding to her plan for the nerds downstairs.
“Victor, Reed, Pym, myself, Stark, T'Challa-- The 'smart list' gets somewhat more debatable from there...” He spoke frankly -- loosely. “Amadeus, I heard, was proclaimed 8th.. And, of course, there's also a grade schooler out there who some say has topped the list...”
A bionic finger hung in the air, caught up in a thought — or a gut feeling, having immediately dismissed at least half of his mentioned candidates based on personal interactions. None of these men would ever refer to themselves as Candy Cane even in covert attempts. Not to mention they knew him and would have made mention of such. One big brain to another. Unless they weren’t from their world .. or they weren’t quite old enough to be impressed.
“What grade schooler?”
As the knit of his brow tightened, one would've been excused for presuming that the aforementioned child had really gotten under the scientist's skin for supposedly topping some list that mattered only to the nerdiest of nerds. (Hadn't Reed himself expressed that if there indeed was any calculable difference, the difference would only be quantifiable in mere fractions?)
Banner's nerdy mind though was presently occupied with other trivialities, along with the reevaluations of mathematical probabilities regarding the question that had been on his mind since they were alerted of the too-reminiscent-to-be-coincidence Google hack -- whether or not he should respond, and how. In fact, the detective and the scientist may have again been thinking along the very same lines; except, well, Bruce and his sore lack of interpersonal skills hadn't noted the tone of the letter, neither had he yet conclude that 'Candy Cane' was unlikely to be testosterone-fueled or 'old' enough to be impressed by groundbreaking theories/research/inventions in multiple scientific fields ... or, ground-breaking, in general.
“You know that handheld 'game' device that Simone's been hooked on?” Yet another part of his mind continued. “It was created to be an unsolvable puzzle. Even I have yet to crack it... According to the comics in this world, Amadeus passed it to this grade schooler, and, well, she solved it, making her...the smartest person on earth.” He paused, briefly relishing the irony -- the quaintly obnoxious charm. “Although, I really can't imagine Doctor Doom attempting to challenge that title via a puzzle box, thus I suppose it's mere namesake than universally recognized...”
Familiar with the box that kept the girl entertained, Misty nodded with a distracted smirk on her face. Lingering on the name but only before abruptly halting at the dead end where her gut had seemed to lead her. The idea of a grade schooler, no matter how smart, trapped in this half life surprisingly and very suddenly too upsetting to even start to consider. She was barely able to handle it and she was a grown ass woman.
She based the thought primarily on the fact that she didn't want it to be--
Hardly a breakthrough in any sense, yet the potential lead was enough of a belated occurrence to spur the scientist into sudden motion; and without thinking, or using thought to control the monitors, he'd reached a hand over the edge of the desk, thumb swiping twice hovered atop a polished knot in the wood that engaged a holographic keypad console. A few keystrokes bringing a single -- relatively empty -- profile into central focus.