This entire situation was a mess, but worrying about it right now was going to make you feel sick again.
No, worrying about something that was outside of your power to change was something that you were going to do later, when you had time to figure out just what you could do about it.
The earbuds connected to your off brand music player were slipped into your ears as you set your music library to shuffle.
At fate's tender mercy, you found yourself serenaded with the sounds of some squeaky voiced popstar you couldn't believe you had ever liked - this was something from your stupid phase for sure.
You instinctively pressed next as your cheeks started to burn with embaressment.
Crimson painted against your porcelain complexion.
Soft tones played as a familiar voice followed soon after.
Oh, you knew this song, this was something your mother had put on here for you.
Something about that fact in itself was reassuring, a reminder that back home everyone was fine despite your absence, that you were fine despite being seperated from them.
The worst you had was a little anxiety and travel sickness, you hadn't been hurt and everything would be fine.
Even if you were lying to yourself, it was what you needed right now.
This song was a few years older than you were, but you didn't care - you were content to hum along to the tune as you whispered the few words you knew beneath your breath.
Granted, that was little more than words such as immenso, cantero, piano and violini.
You didn't speak italian but you were certain without looking it up that the main word that you knew - immenso, the song's title - translated quite plainly into immense.
And so you hummed along to the song as you paced about the aisles, seeking out your quarry.
You would not be denied chocolate now you were so close to it, not when you had the money, the proximity, the desire.
Unless you know, fate conspidered against you and the tills shut down before you could pay for it - then you'd accept it with the stereotypical politeness of a british person in a queue and leave without making a scene.
Or, maybe you'd put on an emotional display and use the scene to get them to take pity and open it for a few minutes longer to get you through.
There was everything from the cheapest, nastiest chocolate that only children enjoyed, all the way up to the expensive continental chocolates - chocolate that had all the more markup than ever these days given britain's relationship with the rest of europe was tetering on the brink.
They'd never forgotten the Victorian war, in what France, as the aggressor, had attacked.
And Britain had beaten France back.
Then a good portion of the rest of Europe had jumped in to attack Britain for daring to defend itself against the French, been beaten back and kept a grudge about it for over a hundred years.
History was written by the victors, they said, but in this case the history books from outside of Britain were full of vitriol, talking of provocation and a need to cleanse the growing corruption that had taken root in empire's capital.
The ones written back home spoke of how callously, the empire had been attacked and defended itself against all comers during its moment of need - how it was a testament to the spirit of the people that they had defened themselves against threats from outside and within.
Perhaps you'd buy some of the American branded imports instead, come to think of it, tempting as it was to buy one of the Queens favourites boxes.
...No, the temptation was too much, that one was your favourite too, it had all the flavours you liked.
Chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate.
Some of that chocolate filled with cornish fudge, or caramel, or...
Just one box though, at a penny less than thirteen pounds, you were struggling to justify a second to yourself.
It was harder still when you reminded yourself that this wasn't your money, but it was what you had chosen.
What sat beneath your arm as you started towards the tills.
Grubby faux-marble tiles smeared with the passage of a day in service of custom threatened to become treacherous beneath your feet as your worn footwear reminded you that you lacked any grip with their worn soles.
Adversity to the end, but you would prevail.
You, would be the one standing tall, eating chocolate.
Or sat on your ass, it didn't matter as long as the latter element was the constant that remained.
Tired eyes greeted you as you arrived at your destination, one of the two tills still open.
A till manned by someone who looked no older than you, whom asked in the weary voice of one that simply wished to get off work and go home, "Cash or card?"
"Cash," you responded as you offered the chocolates over to be scanned, while your other hand held out two of the three bank notes.
The exchange complete, change and a receipt.
It was time to return to the lady whom symbolised your current plight.
As you paced back to the table you had left her at you could see her surrounded by a small group of people bearing arms, swathed in bodyarmour and dark garments.
That must have been the extraction team that had been spoken of before.
Though they bore no markings to explain whom they actually were, you could only assume that they had shown symbols of authority to those who had questioned their presence.
They were all sat however, having pulled up chairs and tables to join Millicent in what looked like a mutual expression of rebellion over the job at hand.
If they were as disinterested as Millicent was in hurrying you along to your doom.
Or, as the case seemed to be, your room.
Even as you approached Millicent nodded in your direction, prompting the group to part as they made space for you, one of them nudging a chair out for you.
Yet still your feet dragged along the tiled floor, as you were in no hurry to-
Oh, there was cake and tea waiting for you.
Damn them.
"So, she's the one we were sent to bring in?" came one of the figures voice as you made your way up to the table.
"Uh-huh, fearsome isn't she," came Millicent's response as she gestured to the tea and cake to make it clear it was yours.
"Terrifying, six of us to subdue that little monster. She must be a real danger," the figure responded.
"Only to herself, most people manifest at least some tell tale signs when put under this amount of stress, but she's looking increasingly like an echo."
"Poor girl, it's a shame we've got to take her in, in cuffs," the figure responded as they shifted to make space for an arriving waiter. Several more cups of tea and coffee were put atop the table as the group shifted about to collect their respective orders.
You sipped at your own as you looked at the cake before you, vanilla sponge, topped with some kind of overly sugary icing. It wasn't your first choice, but it was in no way something you'd argue about either.
"You don't have to, she's no threat," Millicent responded in a slow, deliberate tone as she made eye contact with each of the group in turn.
"You're right," came the one whom had been speaking prior's response. "She's no threat, we don't have to."
"I'm glad we see eye to eye," Millicent smiled brightly as you shook your head slowly, feeling that same mental fog as before threatening to set in.
Just what was this woman?
That one she had been speaking to seemed vacant for a moment before they snapped back to attention, fidgeting with their drink as they spoke again. "I'm going to get into trouble for agreeing with you there, but, I'm going to complain about the boss misusing the department's resources in this manner. We're trained for actual retreival against people with potential powers they've lost control of, not..." they gestured towards you, their voice dripping with disgust. "To be sent out to intimidate frightened kids because the boss thinks a Liason's a frivolous expense."
"It undoes all the work I do trying to reassure those we bring in that we're not monsters," Millicent sighed.
"Except for the boss," the figure added, prompting a small nod from Millicent as she started to rise from her seat.
"Is it okay with you if I leave her in your care while I go and see if I can talk some sense into the boss?" Millicent asked, in that same measured tone as before.
"Sure, you can leave her with us. Your authority technically ended when we arrived. We'll get her back safe and sound," the figure responded, promoting a bright smile from Millicent.
"I knew I could depend on you Tom."
With that Millicent turned to make her way from the café area, leaving you in the care of this 'Tom' and a group of none too happy agents.
"So," came the mans words as he turned his attention towards you. "Once you're done, do you want to take the scenic route back or see if we can make it back in time to catch the end of their argument?" he asked, leaving you wondering just how much longer you wished to drag you feet here.
Did you hurry back or return at a more leisurely pace?
What had you learned about yourself here?
...That you had a budding ability to feel deception? (Water Speciality/Sensing Deception)
...That you were able to fade from notice when you desired? (Water Speciality/Stealthy)
...That you were acutely aware of discrepencies in alsorts of manners? (Air Speciality/Pattern Recognition)
...That you should have felt fatigued by this point, but you were holding on? (Earth Speciality/Indefatiguable)
...Something else entirely?
Fire: 3 (Markswoman)
Earth: 3 (? ? ?)
Air: 4 (? ? ?)
Water: 4 (? ? ?)
Gift of Mystery - ? ? ?