"Fascinating!" the man (Prometheus) repeats.

The other man looks like he wants his coffee cup to swallow him, and the woman has one hand on her forehead.

"Oh, I agree," Raven says.

"Unfortunately, this particular magic system seems only to work for those born in our world. And the shapeshifting is hereditary," she adds when she notices his interest in Rex.

Cat watches, trying to decide how he feels about the fact that Rex and Joss seem to have decided he needs protecting, and Rex is even acting like he's pack. 

Joss seems to notice Michael's train of thoughts. "We're kind of used to protecting our friends. It's... not about thinking you can't."

Rex doesn't like how the woman and the Fascinating-guy smell, it's too fake, too metallic.

"I doubt I would be able to learn even if that was not the case, I am more curious as to how it works."

"I'm sorry about him, he sometimes gets a bit carried away and forgets that some people don't like being treated like puzzles that need resolving."

(There's a slightly indignant 'Sir' from the him in question.)

"I am happy to explain the way our magic system works," Raven says, "although I should probably leave out most of the personal details." Cat nods.

"Everyone in our world - which I'm thinking of naming Quintessence, for reasons that will become apparent - has a different amount of something called essence, or magical energy. It restores itself over time if used, but a person can never have more than their maximum. Approximately one percent of the human population have enough essence to be useful: these are known as mages. I do not know the statistics for shapeshifters, as no studies have been carried out. The remainder barely have enough magic to notice, and only notice it at all if it is unlocked."

She gestures at Cat. "My brother and I decided to awaken our magic earlier today, which is accomplished through meditation and focus. Mine is below mage level and therefore not out of my control, but Michael is more powerful and is struggling to control his empathy."

"That sounds...awkward, and...complicated. 'Metheus, don't go too mad." He hunches over his mug, not defensively, just in a 'it's far too early for this' manner.

"Personal details are certainly not needed!" Prometheus assures. "And you say that there is a difference between people who are capable of magic and mages? How do you go about quantifying what is useful, and therefore a mage, and what is not? And shapeshifters are also a thing in your world? Fascinating."

"Empathy?" the woman asks, head tilting. "Well. I must say, if you are able to answer, exactly what you are picking up from myself and Prometheus? Unless it is not correct to ask, in which case, my apologies."

"If there is a protocol for questions one should and shouldn't ask an empath, I'm not aware of it," Cat says wryly. 

"I...can see that the two of you are different," he explains hesitantly, "but I still get an emotional reading from both of you. You less so than Prometheus, but I'm not sure if that's him or you." 

'I don't think you're human', he doesn't say, because he'd be nervous if someone did that to him. 

"It is probably a combination," she says, almost thoughtfully. "You may have guessed that we are not human. Prometheus was created after our creators had had some practice getting the software to accurately imitate human emotion. They-" She stops, in a way that suggests her stopping was not entirely voluntary, a clicking noise sounding from around her throat.

"What Epime is unable to say is that our parents talked it over with her and it was decided that she was already a distinct person and there was no way of knowing what altering her emotion processing capability would do to that. They all agreed that it wasn't a risk any of them wanted to take."

"You still haven't answered my question of how a mage is quantified," Prometheus cuts in, and there's an impression in his emotions that he would be pouting if his face was capable of such an expression.

"That...sounds like it was probably the more responsible decision," Cat agrees cautiously.

The most responsible would have been to not create sentient life until they knew what they were doing, but he doesn't say that because it implies Epimetheus shouldn't exist. Regardless of whether he thinks it true, it would be a horribly rude thing to mention. 

"It is not a simple question," Raven tells Prometheus, "and I would not be entirely confident of my answer without checking in one of these books."

She considers. "I will find the answer, and tell you," she offers, "if you explain to me how it can be that you were created by people, and not directly by any deity." 

"Well, our-" he stops, a metallic imitation of someone clicking their tongue echoing. "We are built from software? Computer based. I suppose humans imitating a deity they had lost faith in. Built with circuits instead of a vascular system and processors in place of a brain."

Joss snorts. "I may be wrong but I don't think they have context for that explanation."

"Oh dear. Where did I lose you? If indeed I did lose you?"

"It may be relevant to this discussion that I am from a world in which the year is 1849," Raven remarks. 

"Possibly I should request some additional reading material from this helpful bar, rather than oblige you to explain computers."

She does not make the prospect of more reading sound like a hardship.

Prometheus seems perfectly happy to launch into an explanation of computers anyway - suggesting a few books for further information if Isabella wishes to read further.

Epimetheus keeps Prometheus' explanation from getting too high level, adding in lower layers of context and information. (They sound like they have some experience explaining things to people who have no prior knowledge.)

Joss suggests a couple or books from her own world while they're at it.

Raven listens, fascinated, and scribbles down notes as fast as she can. She occasionally has to ask for clarification, but not often.

Cat listens at first, but gets distracted enough trying to follow the explanation that he drops his barriers again and has to take a break to rebuild them.

"Fascinating," Raven breathes when she begins to realise the implications. "I want one. Bar -"