"AGI or not, switching your emotions off is kinda creepy," Joss comments. "Although I can't say I wouldn't give my right arm for that ability sometimes."

"Well - "

He puts his head in his hands.

After a second or two, he says, carefully, "You are distressing me more by switching off your emotions than by feeling them."

And waits for their response.

"Apologies," Epimetheus tilts her head, and her emotions shift back onto a probably readable level. "Regrettably an automatic response to distress."

She does not specify whose distress it is an automatic response to.

"And you accuse me of unhealthy coping mechanisms," 'Sidora rolls his eyes, but somewhere in there, there's a sadness.

In the background, Prometheus' emotions kick up a slight notch, but are still somewhat muted.

Cat, paradoxically, relaxes at the increased pressure on his shields, especially when they bend, but do not break, beneath the added weight. 

Something about the way they did that - for him, because of him - feels deeply unsettling, and he pushes it to the back of his mind to examine later when he isn't dealing with six other people's emotions on top of his own. 

Out loud, he says, "Perhaps we should change the subject to something less fraught?"

And pauses to let someone else suggest a potential topic.

"Terribly mild weather we've been having lately, isn't it?" Joss says with a smirk.

Rex bursts out laughing.

"Gods, anything but the weather!" 'Sidora chuckles. "I think we got completely side-tracked from a question about how it was decided someone was a mage?"

"Did we?"

Either Cat wasn't paying much attention to the conversation at that point, or it was a while back. 

"I haven't a clue, not bei - well, not having been a mage before today. Rae?" he prompts.

Raven looks up from her reading. 

"Oh! I read that just a minute ago," she says, sounding pleased.

"I remember Prometheus asked me to find out for him. It's buried under a mountain of technical language," she continues, "but the gist seems to be that there was once some specific test which prospective mages had to pass, requiring a minimum level of essence to complete. This was before they worked out how to test a person's essence levels directly with magesight, which is the method used now.

"The consensus seems to be that the cutoff marks the point at which it is both pointless to teach someone magic, because they will never be able to do anything properly useful with it, and also at which it can be counted on - to the tune of million-to-one odds - that their magic will not release itself by accident."

"But isn't how useful something is subjective?" Joss asks, leaning back slightly. "For some people, being able to vaguely warm their fingers is useful, for others they need to start whole fires. Although setting your hair on fire is probably something you want to avoid..."

"Well yes, but equally, if there are resources required to train a mage, and these resources were at some point lacking, it is altogether possible that people required a power level high enough to benefit society as a whole?"

Epimetheus makes a quiet noise, and Prometheus immediately looks over at Isabella and Michael.

"I certainly do not agree with this method, it is simply a suggestion for how things might have been."

"And it is probably a good idea to find people before their magic does something..." 'Sidora waves a hand vaguely. "Y'know, dangerous. For them and the people around them."

Raven nods.

"I agree that the considerations regarding accidental magic are relevant - and you may have a point about resource limitations. Apparently there is serious competition for places at the London Academy, and they do not have enough teachers to expand further."

"That sounds like you need to seriously overhaul that," 'Sidora frowns. "I mean, how do you qualify to be a teacher? Is there a reason they're in such short supply? Or is that something that is, in theory, fixable? Because it sounds like it needs fixed. Sooner rather than later. Because everyone who's capable of something should have the opportunity to be taught it if they want? And some competition is good, it drives people to be the best, but too much competition can stifle growth..."

"It's not the only school of magic in the world," Cat clarifies.

"Not even in the country. It's just widely agreed to be the best. Is there no competition for the best schools in your world?"

He runs his fingers through his hair, looking a little tired. Keeping his shields up is a constant drain of mental energy, but he doesn't want to give up too soon or he might never be able to walk through a crowd again without getting a headache. 

"That does make more sense..." 'Sidora agrees looking a little sheepish. "I suppose I should have expected that. It doesn't make sense for you to have just one magic school. And if you did, I- Well, I did have some pretty serious questions about the wisdom of only having one school."

"Oh, don't get me started on competition for universities, and some of them the only reason there's so much competition is that it's a certain name! Or...at least...that's how it seems?"

She frowns at Michael slightly. "You should possibly take a break if it's starting to get tiring, Michael?"

"...Possibly," Cat agrees.

"Bar, is there somewhere quieter I can go?"

He is informed that there are rooms available, and puts down a deposit on a room to which he and Raven can retire when necessary so they don't have to risk losing the door. He sends the room number to Raven privately.

"I think I'll go upstairs for a little while, and give myself a break. I'll be back soon," he assures Raven, and heads for the stairs. 

"You could have borrowed our room," 'Sidora notes. "We're not exactly using it right now."

"I dunno, I don't think you could drag Isabella outta here right now," Joss says with a slight smile. "I suspect they'll be here for a while, and at that point it makes more sense for them to have their own room."

"Thank you for the offer," Cat throws over his shoulder as he stops at the base of the stairs, "but I can't relax properly in someone else's space. And, yes, it looks like Rae's going to be here at least a week."

"A month!" she sings out from her seat at the bar. 

He gives 'Sidora a 'siblings: what can you do?' look, and leaves. 

A minute or so later, the main door opens. The other side of the door seems to be little more than three feet high, and the person who steps through is even smaller, only a little over two feet. 

Those still in the bar area see what appears to be a small boy, with brown skin and dark curly hair. He blinks in confusion at the bar.

'Sidora laughs, and nudges his shoulder into Epime's, smiling fondly. (She shakes her head and wraps an arm around his shoulders.)

Rex, meanwhile, has shifted back into hound form, and is lying at Joss' feet, panting contentedly.

When the door opens, he gives a quiet bark, and immediately goes to investigate. He looks slightly down at the small male in front of him, and pokes his nose forward to nudge at him. (He forgets to quell the flame on his tail.)

"Rex!" Joss calls after him, half-falling off her barstool as she goes to follow.