"I don't... like this." says Madeleine, hand closing on empty space where a syringe used to be. 

She stares at the disconcerting object now twirling in Machia's fingers. Even now that little smile hasn't quite left her lips, though her eyes look sharper. More aware of the potential for danger. She traces a finger around the lid of her sixth coffee cup (the one that is supposedly full of espresso shots) and the look of amusement changes over to a conflicted brow furrowing. She is clearly deep in thought.

Her eyes flick back and forth between the coffee and the syringe. Coffee. Syringe. Coffee. Syringe. Syringe. Coffee. Is she, is [i]she[/i], is Madeleine Cross afraid of having too much caffeine for a day? She snatches the cup off the table as she stands up to clear the plates. She takes a defiant sip as she fishes out Machia's keys and throws them at her. And she sighs.

"I don't like this," she says again, "I don't like this. I do not."

Walking down the street, she fights to match Machia's pace exactly. Do not let her spin around and talk while walking backwards. Do not let her surge ahead and force Madeleine to follow her. Do not allow her to slip far in the back and march Madeleine forward like an owner walking a pet. 

Equals. Partners. Sports enthusiasts, maybe. That's what she wants people to see. She should have taken the time to put her earrings on after all - her ears flutter in bewilderment and it's ruining her attempts at straight-postured poise and shadowy grace. 

"I'll tell you why. Because when you mentioned... Xoxic, I nodded. I nodded! I felt sympathy for your position, like you were right! What is... ha! Can you even imagine? As if your constant tinkering with my body was somehow meaningfully distinct from hers. Just at the beginning of this week I was ready to go and work with her. Now I'm nodding along, grateful to have dodged her attentions? I haven't trained with a single actual athlete even once yet! All I do is follow you around and try not to die! And that's the better option to... me?"

Madeleine drains her entire cup in a single motion and deposits the container in a recycling station without breaking stride. The problem with ordering so much at once is that getting to it while it was all still drinkably hot meant she couldn't afford to savor any of it. But she was still glad she did it. She needed it to be strong, after last night.

Her tail has started twitching behind her. Her left ear flicks in the opposite direction every time it moves, sort of a connected response. She squeezes her temple.

"Do you realize that before I met you, I was considered poised and controlled? People said I was mysterious. Or my mother did, at any rate. I don't... like people all that much. The point is, I was quiet. My life was... quiet. And now I'm walking down the street with a charlatan, actually looking forward to the prospect of fighting drones in a room full of delicate works of art that I cannot afford to replace, You are [i]corrupting[/i] me somehow. Is it mind control? Something more sinister? Did you used to do this sort of thing to Miss Lios, when you worked with her?"