Well, this is not what Emma was expecting from her day. She shrieks and flails backwards, but gathers herself together enough to respond, "Whaaaat?! Did you 'port here? What's going on? Fairy?"

She blinks at him. "Uh. I don't know what a daeva is. ...Are you not a Talent? Isn't that how you 'ported here?" Then, after a second to process, "-also, um, do you happen to know a lot of languages?"

"Telepaths, kinetics, finders and precogs," Emma lists, with the voice of one repeating something heard often. The Center runs educational ads periodically, to try to get budding Talents to come in for testing; it has a list and descriptions.

"So, healing isn't one of them? Not even self healing?"

"No?"

Well, he's being very cooperative for a possibly insane Talent, but she's still not going to just hand over her phone. (Even if he could probably just lift it away from her. That's a thing kinetics can do, right? Man, those vidcasts did not have enough information.) She pulls up a map of Jerhattan and shows it to him. "We're here, and the Center is outside the city here," she explains. In Urdu. Without noticing.

"I see," he says, also in Urdu, because if she would like to speak that language he can speak it too, he doesn't mind. "And what's in it, besides having other kinetics?"

"It's- uh, full name, full name, Center for Parapsychic Talents-" When she gets to the Center's proper name, she notices the language change; confused once she thinks back and realizes what she did, she switches back to English. "-it's just. What Talents do? If the Center tests you and says you're a Talent, you register with them and then you're one of theirs. Training, housing at their compound (which looks really nice), you can draw on their accounts, they're the ones who manage all the job contracts and emergency teams and legal protection and stuff like that." She looks envious. "And the contracts pay really well, too, I've seen some of Dad's contracts with them."

"What happens if I don't want to be 'one of theirs'?"

"Uh. I guess it depends. Generally nothing? It's not illegal or anything? You'd have a hard time finding a teacher, outside the center, if you wanted one. If you want to work as a Talent, it'd be, uh, pretty weird. I mean, I'm not an expert or anything, but I think most companies would rather hire from the Center. If you do something normal-illegal, you deal with the LEO same as anyone, but if you do anything with your powers the LEO will call in the Center to find you, so. Um. Don't steal things, or anything." She tilts her head at him. "There's vidcasts explaining all this stuff...?"

"Sorry for the trouble of explaining all of this to me," he says, kindly. "I think I lack a lot of the background information to get a lot from vidcasts. And - I don't think I need training, unless they're very very good at it - what's the upper limit on what kinetics can do?"

Emma peers through the glass doors- still no sign of her dad, okay, she can explain for a bit. "I haven't met any, before you, so, uh, grain of salt. But I know they can float things around? Dad's company uses them for precision work, but the vidcasts have some example video of a kinetic racing a forklift and a body builder." She grins slightly. "The kinetic wins by a lot."

"Taking it all with a grain of salt, not to worry. It's good to know, though. Do you know if there's a size or speed limit?"

She frowns, trying to remember the contract details. She hasn't had to translate a contract involving Talents in a couple years, but it's happened. "I don't think there's some limit everyone has. The contract I saw had something about calories...? I think it's kinda like working out?"

"Hm," says the possibly-confused but still very cooperative Talent. "I see. Any limits that you do know of?" That he can disprove.

Emma grimaces slightly. She hates not knowing things. It happens regularly! But she doesn't like the feeling. At least he's not making the mildly exasperated, disappointed face her parents would. "I don't know precisely. I know there's nothing too crazy. No one's teleporting to Asia or flying or lifting buildings or anything? Uh, I think almost all of them need line of sight? At least a lot of the detail work does."

She thinks back to the vidcasts. There was a whole section on 'signs you should get tested', if she can just remember it. "The vidcasts say, uh." She tries to recall the phrasing. "Telepaths can project or receive or both, usually at touch or short distances. Empaths about the same but just with projection. Finders and precogs usually have specialties, some finder woman does kids and is on the news sometimes. Finders use objects, precogs use dreams." She makes a face. "Being a precog sounds awful, lots of the legal stuff the Center has is to protect them."

"From people that take issue with them?"

"More like, didn't do enough or fast enough? The last big case was something about a canal with an oil fire that wasn't. I think, uh, companies with diverted boats were angry? It's hard to say 'this is how much worse it would have been' when the alternative never happened."

"Ah. That's a bit messed up."

She shrugs and starts to reply, but there's movement inside. Finally! She waves at her dad.

Her father emerges, looking slightly frazzled but with a packet of papers under his arm. "Okay, all set. Sekhar should be here soon and we can get started." Then he notices the stranger, and eyes him warily. "Emma, who's this?"

The excuse passes muster. "Good job, it's always good to get more practice," he says, slightly distracted with his eyes on the road. "You know how important these contracts are. Wouldn't want to get out of the h- oh!" He spots a car turning a corner and waves. "That must be the bigshot from Delhi."

Emma just screams and clings to her father. There are gunshots and flying people and this is not okayyyy what is going on?!

His response is a confusing babble of anti-capitalist propaganda, religious sayings and clearly parroted political hype. If allowed to ramble long enough, his speech can be condensed into roughly "the government is evil and his corporation enables it and he must be removed for the good of mankind." He doesn't seem clear on how, precisely, removing this man in particular will help, but he sounds quite confident that it will. He also seems convinced that this plan is Approved By God, or at the very least some man going by the title Very Reverend Ponsit Prosit.

He mumbles something about "the Faithful Brotherhood."

"You're welcome. Ah - no, I'm not." Awkward? Awkward. "Name's Noel, if I ever get added." He picks one of his fake last names, because he would like only people he trusts to have his actual last name, if they ever figure out summoning. "Noel Duval."

The man shrugs philosophically. His job would probably be the safer for the addition of Noel, but only in the strictly physical sense. "If anything changes." He holds out a business card.

The men make quick work of restraining the prisoner. They bundle him into the car and depart to meet the LEO officers with a final round of thank yous.

With the car pulled away, Emma and her father are left without their original cover. Emma's father seems a bit shell shocked still, but Emma manages a nervous smile at Noel. "Thank you for, uh..." she looks uneasily at her dad and switches to a random language. "I don't know about fairies, but thank you for protecting us."

"You're welcome," says Noel, in the fairy language (its name is Ensiriash) she picked. "I shouldn't have gotten that showy, I went a bit overboard. Oh well." Pause. "Well, since you no longer think I'm crazy - you're my summoner, which means that you're the only one that can put me back. No rush, there, I don't want to go back immediately, but, yeah."

"Well, I'm at least being crazy with you," Emma mumbles, half to herself. Talents are one thing, but Noel is bulletproof and flying. "So, um. Now what...? I guess you really don't care about the Center."

Emma's father frowns down at her. "English, please, Emma. You know the rules, it's not polite if you're not translating." He looks warily at Noel, but unfurls himself from around his daughter and stands to offer Noel a hand. "Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Duval." That will be all was unspoken but loud; his whole posture had tensed up.

Emma winces. She knows how her dad feels about Talent, but seriously? Of the available options, Noel was not the scary person here. She's not brave enough to scold him for it, but she nudges him sharply and looks entreating.