He rubs a hand at the back of his neck. "Fake law degree," he says half out of the edge of his mouth. Whether or not she hears isn't really relevant.

But he is listening as she goes on with the story. Now, Harvey's a lawyer and he's heard some fantastical bullshit stories before - even some fantastical non-bullshit ones - but the yarn she's spinning at him right now is downright head-spin-inducing.

There's a chair in here right? In the room? Because Harvey's going to need one really soon or he's going to be sitting on the floor. This is a bit much for even his Trek-filled brain to roll together into sense.

He blinks at her, hand pressed against the wall or a piece of large furniture for balance. "I'm sorry, what?" Because, yeah, none of that actually made any sense to him - something about keys and locks and gods - what?.