"Oh thank god, somebody not blathering about magic for once," Ava sounds absolutely relieved to have somebody speaking in terms she knows, breaking into a smile despite herself. The creamer amount is perfect, no matter how much it actually is, because Ava has very little interest in being picky over such a thing. As long as the added liquid has helped make it cool enough to drink more immediately.

"I'm absolutely decimated, trust me," Ava reassures, struggling to pick the mug up, brows drawn together in concentration until she finally manages to lift it to her lips. Her body seems still and solid again, no visible sign that there's anything unusual about her at all.

"It's called molecular disequilibrium. A unique condition, in my world. Sometimes I control it, sometimes it controls me..." She glances back toward the reading Rosalind. "So you're not always in agreement with yourself?"