Nothing is ever easy and always takes longer than expected. Thorndike had to unpack the parts of his portable ornithopter and assemble them over a few hours to provide a device that can fly him and Icarus to town. Violette and Envoy have advantages of wings, and will travel under their own power.

Eventually the strange machine takes shape and with a few quick modifications they even attach one of Envoy's 'gravity engines' to it as a test flight to see how well it can move a vehicle. Since Icarus will be riding it shouldn't be too dangerous as he can counteract the engine if it comes to it, even though such actions do carry a slight risk to him.

So, with everything assembled and ready to go, it's time to be 'properly' dressed for New Zion. The men have it easy; Icarus and Walter can wear the typical 'explorer' garb, which involve khaki pants, a button up shirt, boots, and a leather travel overcoat. Envoy, though, finds her outfit to be entirely too complicated. It's an under layer of supports (including a bustle and a corset to 'enhance' her chest, then several layers of fabric, starting with silken garments that make up a petticoat, then the outer layer dress in tweed, a blouse, a tight and shapely vest, then a jacket over that. All in all, it's close to twenty pounds of cloth, boning, and other such silliness. She even ends up with a parasol and a wide-brimmed hat topped with a flower. The flower at least is positioned well enough that it hides the hole and her horn that protrudes through. She even ends up wearing zero-correction 'reading' glasses to complete the effect.

Frankly, she looks like a severe librarian. But at least all the layers gave her a chance to build in a bunch of hidden pockets for the crystals and other trinkets she decided to carry along! It's just that she'll probably be tired from all the weight by the end of the day. It's a good thing she doesn't sweat or well, she might also compete with a Bromthen hog in the realm of stench.

Then there's another hour of bickering and laying of ground rules - namely that Icarus should not use any abilities unless he's in mortal danger. He grudgingly agrees and after Envoy finishes hiding her important finds, they're off!

The trip towards town is long but thankfully without too much chaos. The ornithopter manages just fine. Envoy's engine even worked out fairly well. There were only two instances Icarus had to counteract it due to the control sleeves coming out of alignment, but that should be easily fixable in the future with a minor design correction.

The ship lands and Envoy and Violette are not far behind it. There's a bit of buzz around the transport docks due to the odd design of the ornithopter but once they hear it belongs to the 'Amazing Walter Thorndike, Explorer Extraordinaire' they seem to lose interest. Apparently everyone still considers him just some bizarre entertainer, even the other humans. So they leave the docks and find themselves in New Zion.

"I don't understand why they aren't more curious about the ornithopter," Envoy says, adjusting Knick who acts as a hairband to keep her mane in a proper bun. "On Rephidim, you'd have been swarmed."

Thorndike dons a top hat of all things and taps it, generating a hollow 'thunk'. "People are just used to amazing things from me. I'm old news," he claims, then seems to deflate a bit.

"Well… " Envoy starts to say, but then just gets a confused look. "It still doesn't make sense. Do you know where we can find a supplier for our metal needs?"

Icarus has gone quiet. He's just staring wide-eyed at the sprawling city ahead and all its noise, lights and contraptions. His eyes also seem to be cycling color from blue to green and back again as stares at practically everything and everyone.

"Violette, you are to keep close to Icarus, remember?" Envoy tells the young Eeee. "Make sure he doesn't wander off or get sold anything. There's no bazaar here, I think, but there will always be street vendors selling some sort of meat on a stick or candied bug."

"I'm more worried we'll find it stolen when we return to the dock," Thorndike points out. The question earns a scratch on his cheek using the butt of his cane as he ponders. "Well, there is a foundry in the industrial district, but I think there is a general metalworks place that sells sheet, bar and beam forms in the commercial businesses district. The metalworks place would be cleaner and quieter."

The Eeee startles and jumps when she's spoken to. "Oh, uh, right!" she chirps and grabs onto Icarus' arm, then crooks her elbow with his as if they were on a 'date'. Icarus suddenly looks both confused and uncomfortable.

"Stolen?" Envoy asks, looking back at the flying machine. "Maybe we should leave it hovering in the air then," she suggests.

"Uh, I could send it a few hundred feet up?" Icarus offers as he eyes the Eeee on his arm. Violette just grins back at him.

"Would that cause any problems?" Envoy asks Thorndike.

"If you want to," Thorndike tells Envoy. "It would make it harder to steal and either you or the young bat could get to it later."

Nodding, Envoy goes to tell Icarus just what adjustments to make the anti-crash enchantment, figuring it will give him something to focus on other than the city itself.

Icarus extracts himself from Violette's clutches and walks back into the docks to deal with the ship. While he's busy, Thorndike asks Envoy, "Are you going to let those two explore while we tend to collecting the remaining materials we need to finish the grand experiment in locomotion?"

"I wouldn't trust myself to explore this city unguided," Envoy points out. "After we've done our business, then we can do some site-seeing."

"So, keep them close," Thorndike concludes. "The city isn't that bad. But … like my home was, there are still districts you are best off avoiding. One more thing to keep in mind; the industrial and commercial districts tend to get visitors from other factions to trade in materials. Don't be too surprised if you see some Naga there, or even some of those quiet and grumpy cats."

"Hmm, then… maybe we won't stand out," Envoy ponders. Of course, her main reason for keeping the others close is that she has no way of tracking them down if separated. "Stay close, Icarus. We're going to get our armor supplies first, then we can… do something fun," she tells the boy. "Maybe get some ice cream!"

"Why would I want screaming eyes?" Icarus asks as he returns from where he was messing with the ornithopter. It is now three hundred feet above the docks and just … floating there. Now it seems to be attracting attention as half the dock crew are staring and pointing.

"That's not very fair," Violette complains, "He makes it seem so easy." A second later the Eeee just shrugs and grins again, completely forgetting about it.

"It's a frozen treat, you'll like it," Envoy says, noticing the crowd now. "And we'd better get a move on."

"A move on? Is that some sort of vehicle?" Icarus asks.

"It's the clothes, they're affecting my manner of speech," Envoy claims. "It means: we should get going to where we want to be."

"They do look like they're squeezing you," Icarus agrees. Violette grabs onto his arm again and the hybrid ends up flashing a pained expression to Envoy.

Thorndike laughs and raises his cane high. "Into the great steel jungle, where hidden dangers lurk and great monsters wait to devour our very souls!" The human pauses for a moment to adjust the tilt of his hat, then ends with, "Metaphorically speaking."

"You should write plays, Walter," Envoy notes, adjusting her chest a bit. "I'm sure I can get the opera house in Rephidim… "

"Ladies should not adjust their bosom in public," Thorndike reminds Envoy as he takes her arm and off the odd menagerie goes into the chaos ahead.

"Here we are, the metalworks I mentioned. They sell to all of the various factions of this strange planet," Thorndike explains as the group approaches. "The Naga introduced me to them when they were purchasing some metal beams not too long ago for re-enforcing some construction work they were performing outside the life dome that you, er … well, never mind that!"

Envoy clears her throat as Walter trails off. "Well, I'm sure we can find aluminum here," she says, and heads for the entrance, only pausing at the last moment to turn and asks, "They sell to everyone… so they'll sell to me right?"

Walter looks Envoy up and down a few times. "Given how that outfit accentuates certain aspects, yes," Walter comments and coughs, "But be careful, they may try to charge you more. I've met many who consider women weak of mind and treat them very poorly. It is not a very gentlemanly practice."

"Oh, I think I can impress upon them that I am serious," Envoy says with a slight grin, and enters the storefront.

As the door opens, Envoy finds herself staring into the chest of something large and made almost entirely of steel. Her ears pick up the sound of hydraulic pistons and the whirr and clicking of gears. Her eyes quickly focus on a small sigil painted on the upper left of its chest; the insignia of the Silent-Ones. "Stand aside," a grating, metallic, voice intones from some speaker buried within the metal frame.

The Aeolun does so, since anything that speeds the departure of the armored cat is fine with her. She does, however, say, "It is polite if you say 'please' when ordering ladies about."

The power-suit thunders by as it exits the building. The machine does pause, though and half-turn so that its armored helm is looking directly at Envoy. "You are some abomination, not a lady," the occupant inside claims. With some distance Envoy can now see the suit is signing as the machine translates it into something vocal.

"Hmmph," Envoy goes. "I'm really getting sick of that term," she grumbles, and heads onward into the shop, hoping she won't have to wait in line.

"Hey!" Icarus shouts as he untangles himself from Violette and marches up to the armored suit. He even thrusts his finger against the metal chest plate and demands, "Apologize to her! She is not an abomination."

"Oh… dear… " Envoy says, spinning on her heel and heading back outside. "Icarus! Do not argue with men in powered armor!"

The suit actually rears back slightly at Icarus' sudden appearance and rather forceful demand. With a hissing, yet fluid, motion the suit's arm swings around and grabs into the collar of Icarus' jacket and then lifts the hybrid up so that the armored helm and his face are at eye level. Icarus actually glares right back, defiant.

Envoy hikes up her skirts so she can move faster. "Put him down!" she demands.

Clicking and hissing ensue as the armored helm splits apart. As it slides away a tawny spotted face comes into view … and for what feels like an eternity, the armored feline and the the young hybrid are staring directly into each other's eyes.

"Ah, please put the lad down," Thorndike says politely to the armored cat. "He was only defending his mother… "

Violette is … well, she's hiding behind Thorndike.

"This is yours?" the metallic voice rasps as the Silent-One signs towards the quickly approaching Envoy.

"Let him down RIGHT NOW!" Envoy demands. "And yes, HE is mine, and I will peal that armor off of you if you don't let him go!"

"What is he?" the Silent-One actually asks Envoy as he continues to peer at Icarus. He even turns the hybrid this way and that to get a better look. "He … smells of us, but he bears only passing similarity," he adds and hasn't shown any sign of putting him down yet.

"We are Exiles," Envoy notes. "Aliens? From a different reality? My patience is wearing thin."

"Ah," the Silent-One actually signs and finally puts Icarus down. "Now you deserve an apology. You reminded me of more Expedition abominations, not … real beings. It is good that you are real, we would not abide the humans using our kind as experiments in their … tinkering with the natural order."

"The Karnors are not Abominations, nor are the Imperials," Envoy states. "For a race that is on the verge of extinction from a lack of genetic diversity, you would do better not to hold to such an attitude. Soon enough, you will need some 'tinkering' if you are going to survive. Or else hope to woo Savanites from Sinai."

"If it is our destiny to die, then that is the natural order of things. It is much better to follow the order of nature than to subvert it with unholy experiments," the Silent-One notes. A hiss of pressure emits from the knee-joints of his armor and he crouches down to get to more eye-level with Icarus. "How many of you are there?" the Silent-One actually asks Icarus.

"One," Icarus answers stiffly.

"I do not understand fatalism," Envoy says, and then signs, "Star be with you."

The Silent-One seems to consider something. "Allow me to extend an invitation to visit my home," he offers in sign to both Envoy and Icarus and his armor translates. "It may help you understand us better."

Envoy blinks at this. "What is your name, and… where is your home?" she asks, a bit stunned.

"I am called Born-In-War, Commander of the Southern Battalion and Defender of Tradition," the Silent-One answers as armor-servos whirr and he resumes standing. "You may find me at our consulate in the city. While we do not normally speak with those outside … there is something curious about both of you. I wish to know more."

"I will consider it, if we have time," Envoy says. She really wishes the mechanical voice mechanisms included inflection cues.

"Good. A point of consideration, Exile, it is considered ill manners to decline an invitation," Born-In-War comments and the armored helmet of his uniform hisses and slides up to encase his head again. Without even so much as a nod, he walks off, each step making a sizable thump as he goes.

"Was that a threat?" Icarus asks as he watches the armored cat go. "What was all that about?"

The Aeolun closes her eyes for a moment, and then opens them to glare at Icarus. "Why did you challenge him like that?" she asks him, in a deceptively calm voice.

"Those people do not like outsides or anything that was 'created' instead of being naturally born," Thorndike tries to explain. "They dislike much of the Expedition and Celestials because they willingly experimented with their own bodies."

"Because he was rude to you for no reason," Icarus retorts to Envoy.

"Personally I find them all creepy. Out of those masks they all look the same," Thorndike mutters.

"That is no reason to risk a confrontation," Envoy notes, then takes a deep breath. "Well, we will make the best of the situation and find out if Born-In-War can take the Silent-One remains off of our hands." She looks around Walter to check on Violette. "Are you okay?"

"But … I could have stopped him from even moving!" Icarus claims. "I think. Maybe? I didn't like how he treated you."

Violette squeaks and hops! "Oh, uhm, yes, I'm fine," she chitters, "I just … he was huge!"

"People will often do things you do not like, Icarus," Envoy explains. "But just because you can overpower them… well, that's why you shouldn't. Might does not make right, even if the person who offends you seems to act as though it does."

Icarus frowns, but doesn't say anything further on it. Instead he just looks towards the shop now. "Now, let's go into the shop," Envoy says, calming down. "And see if the proprietor will let me experiment with a bit of scrap metal. I need to make sure I can mold the aluminum and turn it into sapphire."

Icarus remains frowning and heads into the shop. Thorndike shrugs and remarks, "Kids," before heading in as well with Violette.

Why must he sulk? Envoy thinks to herself. I can only hope ice cream will fix this.

The inside of the shop is a large open space with a high ceiling. Laid out in clean rows are examples of finished metalwork consisting of several really strong-looking I-beams, inch and quarter inch steel plate, rolls of sheet-steel for presses, as well as rolls of sheet aluminum in addition to plates and even ingots of it. At the far end is a counter and behind it stands a relatively nondescript human; average height, middle-aged and slightly portly. The only notable thing about the salesman, really, is his thinning hair and a poor attempt to hide it by combing what little remains of his hair over the bald spots. He smiles warmly and waves to Envoy and her group.

Envoy picks up one of the ingots of aluminum and takes it to the counter. "Excuse me sir," she says, "but how pure is your aluminum?"

"How pure? Dear … " the salesman says then looks over Envoy a couple times, "… lady, it is ninety-nine point nine nine percent pure. Best any foundry in New Zion can produce. We can also produce many different alloys and concentrations, depending on the needs of our customers."

"What happened to his head? His hair is weird," Icarus whispers to Thorndike. Thorndike's face gets a bit red and Violette snickers. Icarus just looks confused.

Rolling the ingot in her hand, Envoy then asks, "How much for this ingot? I need to test it to make sure it will suit my needs."

"The pound ingot?" the salesman asks as he puts on some reading glasses to peer at one Envoy is holding. "One moment," he answers as he pulls out what is presumably the price guide and starts flipping.

"Which currency denomination do you require the price in?" the salesman asks when he stops at a particular page

"Expedition Marks," Envoy notes.

"Aluminum is a relatively cheap metal. A pound of it goes for five hundred marks," the salesman answers. "Plus applicable taxes, of course."

Envoy purses her lips. "Do you have a scrap piece I could test?" she asks. "I don't need a full pound for that."

"We may have some scraps left from sheet purchasing in back. I could let those go for ten marks," the salesman offers. "One moment." And off he goes into the warehouse.

"Why do you think the Silent-One was in here?" Envoy can hear Icarus asking Thorndike.

"If the aluminum is contaminated by other elements, we won't get a clear crystal," Envoy explains to Violette.

"Most likely buying supplies for the military," Thorndike answers. "Building that armor he wears takes a lot of material."

"Won't contaminants often change its color?" Violette asks.

"Yes, and by the color we can tell what the contaminants are," Envoy says. "I don't want to end up with a bunch of rubies because of chromium contamination."

"Why not? You could sell them for a lot of money," Violette points out.

"It is improper to sell magically transmuted gems, I imagine," Envoy notes. There really isn't any precedent of course, since on Sinai aluminum is more valuable than even gold.

"Who would know here? Magic is new," Violette points out, then shrugs her wings.

"I want to use clear sapphire for window glass and protective armor," Envoy explains to the apprentice.

The salesmen comes out carrying some scraps of irregularly cut aluminum. Judging by the thickness and amount, it's maybe a tenth of an ounce total, if that. He sets them on the counter and says cheerily, "Ten marks, please."

Envoy produces the notes from her purse, and piles the scraps on top of each other. "Do you mind if I conduct my test here?" she asks the salesman. "There won't be any chemicals involved."

"I don't normally allow work to be done in the showroom," the salesman remarks as he puts the notes away. "You are welcome to use the break room, though. First door on the right once you pass through the door behind me."

Nodding to the man, Envoy gestures for everyone to follow as she heads for the break room.

Icarus still isn't speaking to her, it seems, even though he follows along with the others.

The break room isn't anything special. It's a small room with a refrigerator in the corner and a worn folding table in the middle surrounded by beat up folding metal chairs.

Setting the scrap on the table, Envoy uses one of her held Reshape spells to see if she can fuse the metal into a simple dodecahedron.

Envoy finds it surprisingly easy for reasons unknown to her. The scraps shift and twist as they reshape into a single mass of metal in the form of a dodecahedron.

"Aluminum seems amenable to magic," she announces with a smile, and then takes out the battery crystal from a hidden pocket. "Let's see if I can force the oxidation now," Envoy says, and begins singing a Rust spell which she feeds power to from the battery for a boost, since she's trying to oxidize the entire volume at once to avoid leaving strain faults.

Aluminum has never been a metal prone to easy oxidation and it shows. This spell proves to be more difficult and takes her a few minutes before the surface of the metal begins to take on the dull powder-white appearance of aluminum that has been exposed to caustic substances and oxidized.

Envoy keeps applying the spell, since she needs two oxygen atoms for every three aluminum ones to form a proper crystal.

Envoy feels a sudden and out of place spike in the low-level magical field in the immediate area around her as she works. The oxidation rate of the metal increases along with the spike and if she's right, it'll be where she needs it in about two minutes.

The mage continues to maintain the spell, while looking over at Icarus and Violette to see if either of them is causing the spike.

Given the rapid rotation of color in Icarus' iris, it's likely him causing the spike. Violette is looking around as if trying to find the source too.

Who else will be able to detect the spike? Envoy wonders, and tries not to worry about it just yet.

Interestingly, Envoy can also notice a soft glow coming through her right sleeve as she's working the spell.

My own crystal is responding… to the spell or to Icarus though? The Aeolun does try to slide her sleeve back a little to see, and wishes they didn't have ruffled ends and so many buttons.

All Envoy can make out is the edge of a glowing crystal scale before she cannot push the sleeve back any further. Stopping to undo the buttons would interrupt the spell after all, and it is almost done.

Setting aside her curiosity for the time being, she goes back to focusing on the spell.

And … poof, she believes it is done. The former pure aluminum is now white and looks extremely powdery.

Holding her breath, Envoy reaches out to tap at the aluminum to see if it made it through intact or not.

Seems intact. As she taps, the spike in the magical field fades away.

Envoy takes out a small cloth and tries to rub away the powder coating to see if she has a clear crystal or not.

The crystal underneath the powder is almost completely clear. There is only the slightest hint of a blue tint in it; like looking through a glass of water.

"Hmm, should suffice," Envoy notes, but also frowns at the amount of effort it took. Still… she wants big windows, and tempered glass would be much heavier. She may have to settle for a single protective layer over glass, and normal aluminum over the steel plates.

"Not very efficient," Icarus finally says as he goes to one of the chairs and plops down into it.

"Walter, do you think we could cover the airframe with a thin layer of aluminum if we had… oh, a few hundred pounds to work with?" Envoy asks Thorndike.

The human taps he tip of his cane with his fingertips while he thinks. "That, hm. "You wouldn't need that much. Not if we had a plasma torch to vaporize the aluminum and powder-coat the frame with it," Walter answers.

"Anodize it?" Envoy asks. Powder coating and vapor-deposition isn't something she's familiar with.

"No, powder coat. You vaporize the metal at high temperature into a mist. When it contacts a colder, clean, frame, it immediately bonds with it, forming a thin outer layer," Walter explains. "It's sort of like weld-painting."

Envoy blinks at this. "How do you keep the aluminum from combusting during the the process?" she asks.

"The plasma consumes all the oxygen so the metal can't combust," Walter says.

"Can that plasma cannon be modified to do what you want?" the Aeolun asks. It's not like they need it for anything, after all.

"Oh probably," Walter says. "Heck, one shot from it at the frame might even be enough to do it all at once."

"Well, that will certainly save some time and resources," Envoy says. "Then I can focus on the windscreen. I was worried for a moment that the process would require a vacuum… and then I'd have to hire an Air Mage."

"I know several!" Violette chirps cheerfully.

"Now that that's settled, we can put in our order and go get some ice cream," Envoy declares.

"Did I hear order?" the salesman asks and sticks his head through the doorway.

"He reminds me of salesmen from my home," Thorndike mutters.

"Yes, sir… oh, but first, do you know of a good gemologist who might be interested in purchasing this sapphire?" Envoy asks, holding up the nearly clear gem.

The salesman's eyes go wide. "Oh, I could take that off your hands for you," he offers, "As part of payment for what you want to order… "

"How much of a part? We haven't told you how much we need yet," Envoy notes.

"How much do you want to order?" the salesman counters.

Envoy does some calculations in her head, given the size of the windows she needs, the thickness and the overall size of the ship, plus whatever leftover she could use for decoration and interior trim. "Say, 300 lbs.?"

"Oh, well … hm.," the salesman muses and rubs his chin in an obviously exaggerated way. "Ten thousand marks and that gem?" he offers. Given his statement about the ingot cost, that's only charging for twenty pounds of aluminum…

"What do you think, Walter?" Envoy asks, since she figures the merchant won't try to cheat a fellow male. "Is that a good price, or should we find a jeweler?"

"It's reasonable," Walter offers, "You might be able to get more from a jeweler, but consider the travel time and haggling cost."

Envoy nods, and removes her bank book from her purse. 10,000 is still a lot, over a third of what she had converted to local currency. But she can always find a way to generate more money – Earth Mages can find work wherever crops are grown or buildings are being built, after all. "Will you take a check?" she asks the man.

"Do you have id and a permanent address in the city?" the salesman asks.

"I have one from the government," Envoy notes, producing the card that Professor James arranged for her. "My address is not in the city, however. I have a mail drop through the military."

"Oh! You're a military customer? Well, that's different! Five-thousand and the Gem will do fine," the salesman beams as he takes the card and looks over it. "Write the check and I'll enter this into our logs and set a delivery date. It'll be a few days."

Envoy blinks at the unexpected discount, but doesn't question it. She fills out the check and signs the order.

"Pleasure doing business with you!" the salesman says as he practically grins from ear-to-ear after he takes the check. "It will be delivered to the drop with the military in about three days." The man then waves and heads right back out to the showroom.

"So… who's ready for lunch?" Envoy asks around, looking to see if Icarus is still sulking.

Icarus is, yes, still trying to look glum. He's more or less sitting in a chair playing with his tail tip.

"I am!" Violette declares.

"I am feeling a bit peckish myself," Thorndike also says. "Lunch it is. I hear there is a good series of cafes in downtown New Zion. I'm certain we can find it."

"Icarus, it is your first day in the big city," Envoy says, holding out her hand to the boy. "Let's go have some fun, okay?"

Icarus finally relented and took Envoy's hand. The odd group left the metalworks building with purchase order in hand. The cold and noisy commercial district is behind them soon enough. Of course it was only traded for a bright and noisy sales district where numerous shops selling all manner of clothing and gadgetry line the streets. The noise here consists primarily of vendors hawking their wares and the occasional 'street gamer' trying to earn a few marks through the somehow timeless 'find the pebble under the shell' game.

The good news is that it should be pretty easy to find food here. There looks to be several street cafes up ahead and surely one of them has ice cream.

"Even in other universes, some things seem, er, universal," Thorndike remarks. "Everyplace has a market and everyone yells at you to spend your money at their shop. Why cannot people engage in work for the betterment of all? I didn't build the Perambulator just because I thought it would make me rich."

Icarus and Violette have gone into the typical 'wide-eyed and silent' reaction younger people tend to when their senses are assaulted by so much at once. Both are also clinging to Envoy; one on each arm.

"On Sinai, there is a land ruled by Lapi where the city is said to be very quiet and peaceful," Envoy notes. "Also, they tend to kill all non-Lapi who intrude on them. So… take what you will from that." She then realizes that she has no idea what sort of flavors of ice cream Icarus and Violette might like, so hopes the vendor offers free samples as she heads for a likely looking parlor.

"There are times killing a loud salesman does seem a viable option," Thorndike mutters to himself. About two blocks up, Envoy spots a cafe' with the label of 'Flask, Cream, and Berry' which sure sounds like it would have at least an unusual selection. There are others past that, but she can't make out the names quite yet.

"That shop looks promising," the Aeolun points out, and steers towards it while trying to keep an eye on the crowds around them at the same time. So far, there's only been the one notable reaction to Icarus, but Born-In-War's comment that he smells like a Silent-One means that Karnors might notice as well.

Given how odd the group looks, there is no lack of people staring at them as they head down the street. The few Karnors Envoy spots also seem to 'sniff' in their direction. One frowns but doesn't approach them. Flask, Cream, and Berry turns out to be a simple street cafe, so the tables are just on the sidewalk. The parlor itself seems to be staffed entirely by humans, teenagers by the look of their current physical development. All of them sport unusual hair colors, such as bright blue to iridescent pink. As Envoy's group gets close enough, one of the male staff, a teenager with bright blue hair waves at them, then towards a table that seats four. "Be with you in a minute!" he adds.

"We can watch the people," Envoy says cheerfully as she sits at the table. "Isn't this nice?" she asks.

"It's loud and people keep staring at us," Icarus points out, though he doesn't seem too upset by it. "They're glaring at me," Violette remarks, "At least they're not glaring at you." Thorndike at least looks generally happy. He even takes his hat off and sets it on the table as he sits down.

Removing her own hat, Envoy says, "Then I will join you in being stared and glared at, to show that it will not cause spontaneous combustion."

The human who waved them over comes gliding up to the table. Apparently he's wearing shoes with little wheels attached to the soles. "Welcome!" he says cheerfully, "I'm Brett and I'll be taking care of you today. And don't worry! We don't discriminate against the Confederation here." The latter seems mostly directed at Violette. "Am I right in that two of you are from offworld?" he asks and motions at Envoy and Icarus.

"We are all from offworld, actually," Envoy says, gesturing to include Violette. "I was wondering if you served frozen dairy treats?"

"Oh sure! We have all sorts of desserts here. Ice cream, frozen yogurt, popsicles, pies and cakes, plus several really, really, gooey buns," Brett tells Envoy. "There are fifty-three different flavors of ice cream, even. Were you looking for something in particular?"

Thorndike, for the moment, is drumming his fingers on the top of his hat and looks very distracted. He even leans to the side a few times as he looks at something behind Envoy.

"My… that is a lot of variety," Envoy admits, and thinks that it probably wouldn't be wise to let Icarus or Violette try everything. "Can we see a menu?"

"Are my wings getting in someone's way," she then whispers aside to Walter.

"Sure, be right back," Brett says and skates off.

"No, someone back there keeps watching you, I think. About a block back, man in a long coat and hat. He's leaning against the building and every time I look towards him he pretends to be doing something else. But … I've seen him out of the corners of my eyes and he is definitely watching this table," Walter whispers.

Brett comes skating by. He flicks his wrist and four menus land neatly in the center of the table. "Desserts are on the last page! I'll check back in a few minutes, " he says as he skates off again.

Resisting the urge to turn and look, Envoy whispers, "Can you tell what species? Or how tall or short?" She opens the menu, and gives her attention to Violette and Icarus for the moment, making sure to look calm and happy.

"Human, average height and build," Walter notes as he picks up a menu and starts looking through it as well.

"What is a cone and how is a 'sugar' and 'cake' cone different?" Icarus asks as he looks over the menu, "Both are made with sugar aren't they? Maybe I should just try something simple?"

"Do they serve bugs?" Violette naturally asks, "I don't see bugs listed."

"Probably someone from the Expedition government then, or else… a journalist," Envoy says, before turning to Icarus and explaining the difference. "Have you seen the sort of bugs they have on Abaddon?" she asks the Eeee girl. "Almost all ice cream is going to be sugary. Except for the licorice one. That may stain your tongue… "

"Are you going to go ask them?" Walter asks Envoy.

"No? Are they gross?" Violette asks, "I like ones with lots of legs and squirm when you eat them."

"Uhm, I think I'll just get this thing called 'vanilla'. That means plain, I think? That's what I'm remembering anyway," Icarus admits, "I hate not being sure about what I know."

"Doing so would surely embarrass the man," Envoy notes to Thorndike, then tells Violette, "They are disease-ridden monsters on this world, or used as machines by the Confederates. Ice cream is made of milk that is squirted out of a domesticated mammal, with sugar and other flavorings added. Sometimes with bits of candy or cake or cookies." She notes Icarus' choice (probably best if he has a feline tongue), and looks for something sweeter for herself, settling on 'blossomberry' since she's never heard of it.

"Hey, this one claims to have worms. I want that one," Violette declares. Of course the one she's pointing at notes they're just candy-worms, not real ones.

"They could be chewy!" Envoy notes with a grin, and looks to Walter to see if he's ready to order.

"I'm going to have a chocolate malt made with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sprinkles," Walter decides.

Brett comes skating by and skids to a halt. "Are you ready to order yet?" he asks Envoy.

"We are all going to spoil our dinners," Envoy says cheerfully, and relays the orders. She then takes out her makeup compact (even though she wears no makeup, but it came with the purse) and opens it to use the mirror inside to try and spot the man tailing them.

Brett skates off to place the orders. Envoy thinks she's spotted the man. Walter was right, he's fairly average all in all, but what stands out is the tilt of his hat does a lot to obscure his face … and he is staring in their direction. While envoy watches, another human approaches him and they seem to be talking to each other and pointing in her direction now and then.

"Cool hair!" a passerby on the street shouts at Icarus and gives him a 'thumbs up'. "Love the makeup too, looks real." Poor Icarus just looks confused.

Closing the mirror, Envoy thinks. They appear to be looking at her, but then could easily be looking at Icarus or Violette from that distance. They could be hiding weapons as well, but would anyone acting that secretive risk doing something in broad daylight surrounded by ordinary citizens? "What do you think of the wheelie-shoes?" she asks the table.

"Very … cheerful?" Violette replies.

"They look dangerous to me," Icarus says, "I have these images of splatting into a wall in my head."

"Oh, they have brakes," Envoy notes. "On Rephidim, there was this big place with amusement rides made special for people wearing wheelie-shoes. There were lots of pillows involved."

"Did you try them?" Icarus asks. And boy, with those huge ears, it sure makes Violette look attentive when she's looking at Envoy.

"Yes," Envoy admits. "It… I took some time to get used to them. Wings alter your center of gravity."

"So you ran into stuff a lot?" Icarus asks. "Why didn't you fix your center? You're a mage."

"Because it's hard even for the best mages," Violette says, "Plus … some chaos mage students would go there to deliberately change the 'luck' of those who were on the rides for practice … or so I heard."

"Because wings tend to move on their own when you're moving at speed," Envoy explains. "Falling down a lot is part of the experience."

"Getting a sore butt is fun?" Icarus asks.

"Can be! Depends on how you got it," Thorndike explains. "When everyone looks goofy, it's fun. No one gets embarrassed."

"Group activities operate by different rules of embarrassment," Envoy notes. "Besides, it was before I was a mage."

Brett glides up carrying a tray full of desserts. "One vanilla, one blossomberry, one slimeball, and a shake," he says as he hands out the treats, silverware, and napkins. "That will be ten marks."

Violette practically squeals and gobbles down one of the candy works. "It doesn't squirm, but it tastes good," she declares.

Envoy pays for the treats, and tries her ice cream.

It tastes very … flowery? Strangely sweet, with hints of floral and even leafy aspects. "Did you go with a suitor?" Thorndike asks Envoy before trying his own shake. He goes ahhhh and grins as he says, "Now that's a proper shake!"

"What's a suitor?" Icarus asks Thorndike.

"Someone who seeks romance with another of the opposite sex," Thorndike explains. "A boyfriend!" Violette chirps.

"I went with a friend who was far more gymnastic than I was," Envoy admits. "In hindsight, he seemed very fond of me."

Icarus picks up a spoon and very carefully takes a taste of the ice cream finally. With the way he does it, it honestly looks like he expects the cold cream to leap out of the bowl and attack his face. After he licks the spoon, the hybrid blinks several times. There's a short pause, then he practically dives into the bowl to devour the contents.

"Boyfriend," Violette nods sagely. "Did you kiss?" she asks as if it were an absolute scandal.

"Never deliberately," Envoy claims, eating her ice cream with care.

"It is not polite to ask a lady about her private dealings with men," Thorndike admonishes the younger Eeee and even taps her lightly on her nose tip with his spoon.

"Envoy isn't a lady. Not a real one, anyway," Violette complains.

"I was very young at the time, and wouldn't have understood romance," Envoy points out.

Thorndike's eyebrows raise and Icarus stops mid-bite. "Wha?" he mumbles with a mouthful of ice cream.

"She is correct, if a bit blunt," Envoy notes. "It is no coincidence that I so closely resemble the Svartifin."

Icarus swallows and says, "Of course she is. And she has a boyfriend. I've met him, his name is Morpheus," the hybrid claims. "She's as real as I am. Except I'm a guy."

"She's some sort of golem. Everyone at the College knows that," Violette explains to the others. "The life and spirit mages did lots of examinations of her." The Eeee then gives Icarus a grin as she tells him, "So she's not quite like you. She was made."

"You were?" Thorndike asks Envoy.

"Yes," Envoy notes. "Although it seems I was extensively modified by the Sifras when I arrived on Sinai. I didn't always look like I do now. I used to have hooves, and dragon wings. And before that, I had dragonfly wings and no pupils in my eyes. And Icarus, Morpheus is also a 'guy'… it's just that beings like he and I don't really bother with the biological details."

"Huh. Some of my best friends were made," Thorndike notes as he twirls is bendy-straw in his shake. The human then shrugs and adds to Violette, "The universe is filled with all kinds, really. Being stuck here has sure taught me that. Better to keep a broad mind and not classify people so much. Envoy is a lady, regardless how she came to be."

Walter leans to the side and looks past Envoy. "Hmm," he mutters.

"The parasol helps," Envoy notes, quite seriously. "Did you want some more ice cream, Icarus?" she asks, holding up her spoon so she can check the reflection on the back of it to see what Walter has noticed.

The person that was watching them seems to have disappeared.

"Even a Naga can be comfort when someone is feeling lonely," Walter then mutters oddly before taking another slurp from his shake.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind a bit more," Icarus admits as he licks the sticky remains from his lips.

"Would you like to try a different flavor?" Envoy asks, returning her spoon to its original purpose, and thinking she should have ordered extra napkins.

"Any recommendations?" Icarus asks.

"You liked vanilla, but there is also a similar flavor called sweet cream," Envoy notes. "It is… creamier and sweeter… "

Just then Brett glides up. "Wow, you went through that fast," he remarks, "Can I get you anything else?" Violette currently has a candy worm hanging out of her mouth. She slurps it in a bit noisily.

"Tell me Brett, do you ever have Silent-Ones customers?" Envoy asks.

"Now and then," Brett says, "Folks from the consulate in uptown."

"What do they usually order?" the Aeolun asks. "Anything that isn't frozen, like cake?"

"Well, some order fish sandwiches, but ask that the fish is left raw. Gross, if you ask me," Brett says. "And expensive since all fish has to be grown in farm-pools. Desserts tent to be cake or ice cream, yes. Less on the fruity side, more on the dairy. Why do you ask?"

"I would like to get a cake then," Envoy says. "I've have a meeting with someone in the consulate later, and would not want to arrive empty-handed. Also, a small sugar-cone of sweet cream ice cream please."

"You have a meeting in the consulate?" Brett asks, actually wide-eyed. "Wow! I thought they only would admit dignitaries. Er … I'll go get your order … " The human quickly skates off.

"He's strange," Icarus and Violette say at the same time.

Once the boy leaves, Envoy switches to Eeee and asks Violette, "Have you heard any mechanical clicks or whines while we were eating?"

"Seems like a teenager to me," Thorndike remarks.

"A few, but then this town is full of them. Why?" Violette answers in Eeee. She also seems frankly shocked that Envoy even gets the pitch perfect.

"Cameras make noises like that," Envoy notes. "If you hear any nearby, please let me know immediately."

"Okay. Is it dangerous?" Violette asks.

"No, but I want to know if people are taking photographs of us," Envoy replies.

The general din of people is shattered by the blaring sound of an automobile horn, followed by the screeching of tires and the sudden pungent smell of burning rubber. The crowds around them quickly disperse in all directions as a car comes screeching down the road, swerving this way and that. It jerks hard to the right and all of a sudden the group find themselves directly in the path of a very heavy, out of control, vehicle. Or … is it really out of control? In what little time they have, Envoy makes out the driver, it was the man watching them earlier.

"Eeeek!" goes Violette and in a flurry of wings, hands and feet she goes scrambling away from the table!

"Great God of Science!" blurts Thorndike as he grabs his own hat and looks quickly for a path out of danger.

Taking one of her remaining Reshape spells, Envoy casts it at the street in an attempt to quickly raise a barrier!

The street in front of the table practically rips upward, forming a wall between them and the oncoming vehicle. The crash that follows is deafening. Even Envoy can feel the shockwave from the impact thump hard into her chest. What happens next seems to flow in slow motion as the concrete wall she made begins to blow apart from the force of the vehicle impact. Huge chunks come flying towards her, towards Thorndike, and towards her charge, Icarus.