“Thank you very much, miss.” Smiling a moment, Madison settled into the chair opposite the woman’s, hands clasped properly upon the tabletop. “I can assure you that I’m not here to try and swindle you out of your money or anything of the sort. All I’m hoping for is a bit of conversation, that’s all.” Unlike the Technician, the Scholar’s face was an open book. His eyes were wide and concerned, occasionally flitting down to the glass, then back to the woman’s nigh-unreadable expression, struggling to read it. 

“My name is Madison Lovette,” he said, eventually. “It’s nice to meet you, miss. And it’s quite alright if you don’t remember it- I don’t mind reintroducing myself if need be.” A pause. A frown, contemplative, before Madison spoke again. “If I’m not being too prying, may I ask how long you’ve been in London? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before.”

Asking directly about the Oblivion seemed rather on the nose. It was troubling- very much so- but you didn’t take a glass of the stuff to forget anything good, let alone something you’d want to babble about to a stranger. Smaller, simpler conversation seemed like better territory to touch upon.