Amelia prods one too many people - a wayward glance of her parasol hits the one person who reacts by grabbing it and yanking hard, from instinct rather than conscious thought. Their full strength is the force of stone itself, and not something to be reckoned with.

For all that though, Rutile realizes quickly that the sturdy thing in their hand is not a weapon - or at least, it's not sharp. They frown and glance between it and its owner with blatant curiosity, the expression not out of place from a person in a lab coat. "What is this thing, exactly?" they say.