Acid rain...? Great, another thing Rutile hasn’t heard of. “The rain seems aqueous enough to me,” they say, though their eyes narrow with suspicion. “I just find it generally unpleasant. Normally my makeup will run; it is waterproof now, but old instincts die hard. Still, I am glad to take you up on the offer.”

It is as they’re heading down the street that Rutile gets an extended look at the person, and his features finally come into alignment. Their face lights up with recognition. “I’ve seen you before, I remember now,” they say. “Ilda sent me a picture of the two of you. You had ... something, together. Tea, I think. She was excited.”