It is, all things considered, a very nice drawing room. Portraits adorn the walls and the heavy drapes are open to let starlight from the moonless night through. There's a table far too small for the large room with a pot of tea, a set of tea cups and an arrangement of cookies and fruit. Two oaken doors are firmly closed to one side, and to the other a single door is slightly ajar, the sound of sobbing coming from past it. Every once in a while it's possible to hear a page being turned in the other room as well. The drawing room on its own is silent, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock and then, with no prelude, an exclamation.
"- not per se and not selfishly? I am - worried that I'm not doing right by you given the circumstances in which you're embedded."
"But I'm not really sure how to improve on my present approach, I don't have a lot of degrees of freedom till I can get home."
"It's. Um." What is she supposed to say in this situation????
"You are...a very good person.... with good... abs."
Probably not that.
"I think some empowered acquire musculature, but I was not among them. Not that I would particularly have benefited from it."
"Yes, I'm um. Unusually strong among empowered. I believe. It's hard to be certain, but I did reading in advance of going out as a vigilante that indicated as much."
"During the Dark Ages someone knocked over one of the stones at stonehedge and supposedly empowered in the region tried to fix it but weren't strong enough to lift it and I was. I'm not sure many of them tried, though."
"Of course."
"I also returned a second time after I found sketches indicating I'd misjudged the orientation."
"They're not in my world. I assume they could be moved by machinery but they've been left as-is."