comin' on to the overload

[doyoulikecake]

[OOC: Okay, so the first section is a bit tailored and QUITE timey-wimey, as I'm not actually sure what day the Mio & Roxis meetings went down. But feel free to have it be backdated, forward-dated, not-actually-on-the-same-day-as-each-other-at-all, etc. To Kaden, it'll have happened on the same day, but I doubt that anyone's going to be like 'so

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[sophicsulphur]

Iris makes it into the coffeeshop right on time-- or at least, she thought she was on time. Apparently she's a few minutes later than she planned on being, as the other two-thirds of their party are already there.

A two-thirds she hadn't been expecting. She shoots a rather pointed glance at Kaden, one that says, loud and clear, what she can't say out loud: What is he doing here? Oh, yes, she'll be having words with him later about that. She had not been expecting a guest

[strivingupward]

Roxis doesn't do a good job of hiding the fact that he's shocked at her introduction. It's not the formality that surprises him; it's the honour with which she's according him. She's a Fortner, after all. An unexpectedly clean and unscarred young woman, but a Fortner all the same.

No, he didn't expect her to be so clean. He didn't really understand Kaden's comment about "letting alchemy fall to the wayside". If you're an alchemist, you always practice.

The faint tinge of energy hanging about her matches the spirit-man he's been talking to, however. To Roxis, Kaden is a kind of sprite: tiny, powerful, and glittering with otherspecies magic, and clearly bound up with this girl. Iris's "assistant" might be the word he'd use, if it had the same connotation of someone whose direction you follow that the equivalent word in Roxis's own language often carries. Someone who assists your own goals, always and every step of the way, but by telling you what to do

[doyoulikecake]

Kaden, when Iris comes in and makes that face at him, simply puts on a complete look of innocence. He couldn't possibly have set this up. Why would he ever do such a thing? Roxis definitely just happened to need a place to sit. ...and pick the most cluttered table in the place. Never mind that Kaden's exchange with Roxis in the journals is definitely public as can be, so if she really wanted she could go back and read through it

[sophicsulphur]

She can't help but smile a little at how much Roxis is tripping over himself, but there's an element of wryness in that smile. She's pretty soon that once he's aware of what's become of her, that honour won't remain for very long. "Please, sit down," she urges kindly, in lieu of out and saying that straight away. "--I promise I won't keep you long

[strivingupward]

Roxis likes the idea of getting some coffee; the sight and smell of the warm-drinks restaurant has been subtly exerting its influence on his appetite, and he's planned to stay for a long chat. "If you could choose something with lots of cream and sugar in it, please," he requests. Ever since he drank Pamela's potion, he's been nauseous from the taste of too-bitter liquids. Some might call his preference for sweet drinks childish, but he knows better-- drinking that potion was a very noble thing to do. It feels like an eternity ago, but his taste buds know it was merely a few months

[doyoulikecake]

Kaden nods, giving Iris's shoulder a pat -- no hair ruffles for something that's so obviously important and formal. He doesn't want to completely undermine her just yet, not before he's gotten a sense of this interaction, because right now he can feel a slow itch crawl over his shoulders just watching them. He wants to write all of this down right now.

"Nothing, check," he says, standing up. "And lots of cream and sugar, definite check." He's good at getting sugary drinks. It's practically what his sister lives on. Sure, he can't make the drinks, but he knows what's what at every coffeeshop in town

[sophicsulphur]

Iris' gaze returns to Roxis long enough to note that look of ill ease, and for an instant, humiliation wars with anger in her eyes. How dare you, a part of her is still proud enough to think, some of her old spirit surging back to life. That spark of rage dies down in moments, though, replaced with an expression of pure mortification.

"...Do I seem that lost to you?" she can't help saying, her tone one of near-disbelief. But then she rethinks it: he can't have known, of course. Unless he's more psychic than she is, he can only go off what Kaden's told him. Which is false, and she's going to tell him that, as soon as she's done with Roxis. She's not not practicing; she's just had to slow down. Way down. But she's still an alchemist, and always will be.

"I am an alchemist," she insists to him, pleading with her gaze. Don't dismiss me. See through to me. I'm scared of your judgment. Tell me I'm okay. An unworthy as she feels, she's also desperate: to not be disregarded by this, perhaps the only other true alchemist she'll meet in this

[strivingupward]

Roxis blushes instantly and vividly. "I'm sorry," he mumbles awkwardly. Terror of saying the wrong thing looms large. "I just didn't know. I'm sure you're a perfectly fine alchemist." He never, never means to speak ill of the... ill. He just never realised that someone could be too unwell to practice, if they could still walk and remember their own name. Even the doddering, ancient professor at his school who can hardly speak the common language coherently still crafts fine, glistening, powerful potions. Every day.

Then, all at once, his pent-up confusion explodes. "It's just that things in Chicago are so different. Nothing is ever what I expect. Where I come from, we don't talk like this or dress like this or eat like this or anything, and every alchemist I've seen here does things so differently they don't even heat up half their mixtures, and sometimes the names match ones I know but it doesn't mean anything, and I can never count on anything anymore!" He's shouting by the end. People at other tables are glancing in his direction

[sophicsulphur]

She waits until he's finished his rant, then nods sympathetically. When she does speak, her voice is soft, and she leans across the table to make sure he hears. His words on her alchemy have mollified her, though she knows he knows nothing of it-- she's letting praise flatter her, just this once, because the alternative hurts so much.

And besides, she knows what he's talking about. I can never count on anything anymore. She knows that feeling all too well. Just when she starts to believe in something, it turns out the real meaning behind things is something else entirely. She's learnt to weather the storms, but they're wearing her down, too

[doyoulikecake]

This is about when the conversation's interrupted by Kaden returning with a small tray full of drinks. He's spent the entire time fidgeting in line, waiting impatiently for the drinks to be done; he just wants to be over there, listening. He knows he probably doesn't have anything to contribute to the conversation, unless addressed directly, but it's his table and his setup and this is an insight into Iris that he wants -- no, needsAll the same, he's very careful not to spill them more than he can help it, though a little bit has gotten on the tray anyway. He sets his own drink next to his almost-finished previous one. "Order up," he says, then, setting down Roxis's drink in front of him. It's certainly something sweet, one of their seasonal drinks. "There's extra cream and sugar up there, though that might upset the balance of stuff in there. Sugary drinks are one of the few things I don't know how to do that I probably should

[strivingupward]

As Iris talks, Roxis nods, knowing exactly what she means. This place is all wrong. It's crazy. Sheer bucketfuls of chaos. And Roxis doesn't like chaos. He-- ah, Kaden has come back with drinks. He thanks him and accepts his coffee, and takes a tentative sip. It's sweet and full of delicious things he didn't at all expect, and doesn't taste like anything he's ever had before. Spices in his coffee! This is awesome. Ginger, nutmeg, something else... He can get free coffee in the lobby of the building where he lives. He'll definitely be making creative coffee at home.

Iris's words, however, haven't failed to sink in. The Escalario. He's heard of the Escalario. A book with the secrets of the universe, locked to all but the one to whom it grants any wish. The heir-- He's suddenly gazing at Iris like she's the biggest celebrity he's ever seen. In fact, she is

[sophicsulphur]

She's not expecting the water, and looks at Kaden with a small "oh" of surprise, before turning it into a smile. She knows she likes to steady herself that way, too, and the small and wordless gesture is a comfort, almost an apology. He knows he's put her in a tricky situation, and he's trying to make up for it without causing a scene. She thanks him and takes a sip, letting the tension between them evaporate, at least for now. He may be a bit socially clueless sometimes, but Kaden's a decent guy at heart. She needs to keep that in mind, before getting mad

[strivingupward]

"My lineage?" He wonders what she's talking about. "I don't have a lineage." The statement nags him, but he pushes through because he knows it's true. "My father was a gambler. My mother painted things. They gave their life's savings to send me to school, and I was lucky to make it in. I was a poor nobody travelling from town to town. Going to Al-Revis was a dream come true. I'm not like you. I didn't know I would make it." But he'd always thought he would. Or should. Somehow, could. It's fuzzy and he can't quite remember why he did. That distracting fuzziness and the pieces that won't quite fit together are the cause of the slightly glazed look he gets whenever he thinks about his family and motivations

[sophicsulphur]

She sighs, a little, though it's not entirely an ill-natured sigh. He's appealing to her better nature, to the part of her that values destiny, non-coincidences, meetings that are more than chance. He's got a point. It really could be fate. After all, why did the Rift bring any of them here, let alone groups of people from the same worlds-- often friends before the passage, or at least likeminded people with the ability to work together? She can't cast aside the possibility that there might be something in it.

"I guess... I could be," she admits, somewhat hesitantly. "And maybe you are too, for me. --I don't know." She shakes her head, quickly changing her tone. "Look, I... don't deny that I could probably help you practically. I've done a lot of synthesis in my time"-- her euphemism for made the Ruby Prism once, working on a second --"and two will always do better than one, at least." She remembers that much, from helping her parents at the cauldron. And she could almost certainly focus better with another mind in the mix. "I'm just

[strivingupward]

Roxis absolutely tingles with pleasure at the idea that he might be a famous historical figure someday. That his family line might become famous because of him. The Rift chose you. Chose you. Chose you. He doesn't conceal it well, either. His eyes sparkle. Somehow he isn't convinced that that's it, but wouldn't it be nice? And it would explain why he's always been so sure he should be the best at alchemy, the best everywhere. As if he could compete with the likes of Iris. Admittedly, he feels that he was meant to work on her level, even if he'd never say it out loud

[sophicsulphur]

She's still skeptical, but it's hard not to yield in the face of his wide-eyed hope. "I'm... not going to make you turn away," she says, and that much she also believes in. She won't force someone to turn from what they believe is their destiny. She won't. Even if they did just collectively come up with the theory five minutes ago.

"I'm just warning you." Not that he seems the slightest bit inclined to listen to that warning. ...She almost laughs, at that. Someone who brushes off any and all warnings, who's only interested in pursuing their starry-eyed dream of advancement. Alchemists really are all alike. Well, if he's going to insist on sticking around her, at least he'll be good company.

And then something strikes her. "Wait-- go back to one of the things you said before. Your family saved up to-- send you to school?" She stares at him. "School. I remember something about that. Many years before I was born"-- by which she means hundreds --"there were schools." There's a pause, then she does laugh, quite involuntarily. "Wow. You