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Majima Goro Majima Goro is a madman, but he understands hospitality.

This situation, a conference of powers that have been at each other's throats for literal eons, requires hospitality and tact beyond the capabilities of most men.

Both the Imperium and Cult arrive--specifically to different sides of the building reserved for these purposes. Each one finds themselves greeted by military forces of the Concord--uniformed in identical black suits, humans to the last. The easily two hundred forces to a side observe the Inquisitor and Priestess's arrival the same way.

The path inside is lined three deep, the rippling deference continuing as each party walks into a building outwardly very standard and Imperium.

The inside is not. The inside is very, very Terran, and even more specifically traditional Japanese. The walls are painted with murals depicting ancient battles. While it is artsy, and indulgent, perhaps to the taste of the Slaanesh cultists, it is also the story of rigid order and dynasty, to the taste of the Imperium. This has been very carefully balanced, both sides kept separate from each other until they enter the main auditorium.

The auditorium itself most likely normally serves as some base of military operations. Today, it resembles an oversized tea house. The tables and seats are curved around a central point. There is, in fact, piping hot tea available at each of the seats, as well as old-style sushi and other refreshments. A wide white screen stands behind the central stand. While efforts have been made..it's clearly a slide projector screen dating from the early two thousands.

In the back, upper part of the room, a small black slit belies the existence of some sort of projector room, where it is very likely that a man known only as Nishida is helpfully sitting with a Powerpoint presentation he worked incredibly hard on.

He is very proud. This had all better work.
Raziel Really, only someone with an outside view would fully appreciate how Majima had set this up.  Even then, the duality might be lost on them, but those who can see it for what it is will get a special treat.  On one side of the building, the inquisitor Pia Bernitsky and a few bodyguards made up of the Scions walk through the building to first the welcome area, and then the meeting room as they are shuffled in.  This party will also include anyone who is friendly to the Imperium (Read: any PC who cons Green to them.)

On the other side is Giulia Albina, with a few normal-looking individuals.  Some are in, what might be described as, civilian clothing.  It is fine, of course, but not in the same way that something is purchased from luxury stories.  These are people with rough hands, rough feet, and are dressed in finery that was handcrafted.  Jewels you would not find in-store, but rather what might have been discarded treasures, repaired, and made /extraordinarily beautiful.  Much like her inquisitor counterpart, she does not make any trouble...yet.

Pia is rigid and brisk, she does not speak a lot and tends to be to the point.  Her mind is sharp, but her social skills are not in long-winded speeches or flowery language.  On the other hand, Giulia is rather flowery, but not obscene with her words.  She will play in verbal beating around the bush when she finds it fun and is generally very easy to.

Beyond that, there are local forces running security everywhere.  These people handpicked by Cadmot, the local administrator who is working for facilitating Concord and the planet's interest together, and who had been working directly under Raziel.  He tended to handle the actual paperwork, while Raziel was someone who preferred to have his feet on the ground and dug around where information was recovered.

As people enter the room, the two sides look at each other with suspicion and borderline hostility.  One of the Scions mutters something about Heretics, which starts a rolling murmur through the Cultists.  However, Giulia holds a hand out, "Control yourselves...we will conduct ourselves with grace and civility...unlike these servants of the corpse emperor who can not even be trusted to keep themselves disciplined."

Pia is already moving her hand to her bolter, "Care to speak up?"
Karian Icefang     Much to the chagrin of the Cult, another Imperial player was about to make their preseance known. Not bothering to hide their approach, Karian and his Wolfguard make their way towards the meeting was going on. Each wore their helmets, not about to chance letting anything take their will or their minds from them.
Gilgamesh      Not being invited to a meeting has never, ever, ever stopped Gilgamesh from attending it. He's the King. He gives permission. He doesn't ask for it. Permission flows from him. That is the law of the world.

     Being in his presence is...difficult, to say the least. It's easy to see why he claims himself a perfect being. The King's face is unnaturally perfect, beautiful as if sculpted by a master craftsman, beyond the works of mortal hand or mortal blood. His body is compact, but flawlessly symmetrical, proportions perfectly-scaled down to the fingers and toes. His gold armor is glorious and shimmering even without the sun. His red eyes are cold and disinterested, as if skewering bugs on his very gaze as he walks through the room. His hair, spiked up, has the glimmer of the sun, or the glow of a field of grain, or the forceful glory of a crown.

     Worst of all is his aura. The King of Heroes' presence is a physical thing, a choking cloud of glory that no longer exists in the world. It makes mortals yearn for an age of heroes and gods, myth made manifest in the air around him. Around Gilgamesh is a profound sense of what was lost, and what might be had again, an addictive taste of the Heaven he was born from and the old Earth that he ruled. It is a physical presence, a realness more real than the world, a sense of the King being in the foreground of everything while other, more mundane details fade around him. The right to rule is not a thing he was given; his is not a crown placed upon his head by mortal men, nor is it something mortal men need ever given consent to be governed by. The right to rule *is his*. Is *him*. The concept of "King," the concept of "Ruler," is encoded into his very being. It is laughable to claim that he could be dethroned. It is laughable to claim that someone could take that away from him.

     He is /the King/. He is not /a king/.

     The King makes his way through the room without looking at even one of them. Neither inquisitor nor cultist gets a glance. Instead, without a word, he passes by them all, the addictive glory of the King rolling off him in waves.

     He takes a seat at the head of the table.

     Or, rather, he produces a seat at the head of the table. A throne of pure gold, glorious and regnal, simply falls out of nothing, and the King places himself upon it in a reclining, bored position. A golden chalice appears in his hand, and a bottle of wine so sweet it could make the finest vintage smell like rot is uncorked in the other. He pours the wine slowly, agonizingly slowly, and swirls it around in front of him.

     "You may proceed," the King says, his tone apathetic, disinterested, as if he's giving permission to Nishida to keep going despite this being Majima's meeting.

     He raises the cup to his perfect lips as Karian arrives.

     The implication is clear. Gilgamesh is not here to negotiate. In all likelihood, the King doesn't care enough to learn the meaning of the word.

     Gilgamesh is here to force negotiations to remain civil.
Staren     Staren meets the cult outside, in formal clothes again. He's trying to believe that Majima will somehow make all this work... "Good to see you again. I'm..." his ears and tail droop, "...truly sorry about last time. I hope that we can make this work, I just want the same thing as all of you, for everyone to have a chance to be happy..."

    Once inside and sat down though, he is mentally facepalming. He's not sure speaking up will help, though, since the mere presense of a xeno in a position of importance seems to be enough to tear any veneer of civility off of the Inquisitor. Can Majima handle it?

    And then Gilgamesh walks in. Well. That may help change things. For the moment, he looks around to try and gauge the reaction of the scions and the cultists to Gilgamesh, and waits for Majima to make his entrance.
Majima Goro     And now it's showtime.
Majima arrives from behind the screen. He's wearing a finely tailored suit. It doesn't exude glory, it doesn't exude majesty, but it is the suit he wore when he brought cabarets from the ground to the heavens. Perhaps it doesn't measure up to Gilgamesh, but that's fine. This miracle will be sufficient. "Good afternoon, everyone!" He stands in front of the screen, which suddenly changes.
It changes to a screen showing water wheels made from the same material of the Hive Worlds, and what appear to be blueprints for vertical farms with mirrors to reflect sunlight. Majima turns around, looking seemingly shocked.

"Nishida, that one's for -after- we save the world!" He calls out, sounding a perfectly angled combination of amused and sheepish.

"Anyway, I understand nobody wants to be here. I'd love this to be a fight as much as anyone else, but for us to keep fighting on this planet, there has to be one. And that's where I need help both from the Imperium and from Slaanesh's Chosen," He says, explicitly avoiding the term cult.

The presentation changes to the proper one now, illustrating the planet as a whole. "We've already established that these quakes are not emanating from a single spot. The entire planet is 'stopping' and 'starting' again, which is about as bad as it sounds. I've already heard some from both of you as to what's going on, but if everybody here did their homework, I believe there's more information we could all use."

He dips his head.

"And please, perhaps spend the time your colleagues are speaking drinking tea, instead of heckling, and then we will all be free to go our way that much sooner."
Raziel Staren approaches Giulia and walks with their group.  She raises a hand to him before they enter.  "Do not trouble yourself over what you could not do.  You did all you could and still continued to help people.  Wanting to help more people is commendable, so is wanting to do more.  Agonizing over it all will only make existence painful.  Do what you can, not agonize over what could have been," She says, with a brilliant smile.

Inside, right as things about to get hot, Gilgamesh enters.  The Demi-manemperer of mankind simply guides through the room, making a golden throne appear in front of those assembled, and proceeds to sit down with barely a word.  This stuns both sides.  COMPLETELY stuns.

Thankfully, Majima takes advantage of this interruption of hostilities.  Both sides look to each other, before both ladies speak, in the affirmative.  

Karian and his brothers are not stopped, they are guided like the rest to the meeting place, and allowed entry.  Nobody draws on them, though they are eyed.  It's expected that if any trouble was going to come, it'd be from these men.  As if nervously watching a lit match enter a room soaked in gasoline, lined with TNT, and the floor made out of C4.

Even with Gilgamesh, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and served as dinner.  
Karian Icefang     Karian enters the room, his inginia's clear to all. The Sons of Russ had arrived. "Inquisitor. Mortimer Balman sends his regards." He says. He was about to render all of this moot when he noticed Gilgamesh in the room, as well as his arm seemingly losing the will to go for his bolt pistol. "Hrm...it seems with you here things won't erupt in a bloodbath...at least for the moment." He says, optics shifting between the Inquisitor and the Sorceress, disdain evident for both in his voice.
Raziel In complete unison, both Pia and Giulia speak with a disdainful tone, "Who let him in here?"
This causes both sides to look at each other, and grimace that they actually had something in common with the other.

"The Xeno?" Says Pia.

"The Mass murderer?" asks Giulia to the reguards from Mortimer.
Majima Goro "Well! It seems we have more guests than I invited!" Majima says, arms spread wide. ..He stops. "...Except for-" And he says this without betraying the slightest hint of regret, "The King of Heroes, who was invited by definition, of course."

The presentation moves to a screen asking the Inquisitor to step forward to the stage, while Majima extends a hand to Karian. "Of course, you've done me a great disservice, Karian-sama! If you'd only told me you were coming, I'd have had the catering increased, just for you and your friends!" He allows a moment for that.

"But I am sure you understand that your truest duty as a Marine is to the glory and propagation of mankind! And as a Hand of the Concord, and as a man myself, I salute you." The salute he gives does not have the slightest hint of sarcasm.

"This world stands at a precipice, Mister Icefang! The information we gather in this room may be what stands between the uncounted billions of inhabitants of this world and a tragic end at the hand of whomever is threatening it. I trust that you will stand alongside the King of Heroes and help keep the peace, and ensure that the only red spilled in this room is, perhaps, whatever wine we might be serving after the tea. And I thank you for your service in that regard." He concludes.

"...Miss Pia, could you please enlighten us with your take on what is transpiring somewhere beneath us and threatening the lives of innocents?"
Gilgamesh      The King takes no notice of the two factions' shock. He's just sitting there, drinking wine as if he's on vacation. The sense of decadence and opulence mingles and exalts the sense of power and prosperity, the sense of the pillar upon which he is placed. It reinforces the idea that he is above them, that he is beyond them. That decadence drips from the wine bottle. It spills into the air from the gleaming cup.

     When Karian enters and lowers his pistol, the King of Heroes tilts his head slightly to the side. It's an approving gesture, an acknowledging gesture. A degree of respect for the Vlka Fenryka, if only because of the kinship the King feels towards his patrons. When Karian sits down, the gaze resumes its cold, unpleasant neutrality. Looking upon him is looking upon a force of nature, not a man.

     After this long, tense moment, the King places the bottle of wine on the table.

     It's probably hard to figure out what to do with it before the King produces an enormous loaf of bread on a golden platter. The loaf smells heavenly. It's as if it was just produced from the oven, as if it was just made. The crust is a perfect golden brown crunch, not too hard, not too soft. The inside is flakey, sweet, like tasting a cloud. A golden blade comes out of nowhere directly above the bread, stabbing straight down into it. It rattles the tea. It shakes the table, hard.

     The sword pulses with magic. *Anybody* can feel it, even the most magically-dead soul in the world.

     And the King is using it to cut bread in half like it's nothing.

     Indeed, three more of those glorious blades fall out of thin air, dissecting the bread into pieces. The plate appears completely unharmed. Then, with a snap of the King of Heroes' fingers, the achingly-beautiful blades disappear. Another snap, and the plate splinters itself into copies. Platters of bread scatter across the table. Cups of wine scatter across the table.

     "Your refreshments are...present. But no way to begin a conference." The King's languid gaze slides to Majima. "Break bread, the foundation of civilization. Drink alcohol, the heart of civilization. Celebrate that you are all descended from one people, and remember that."

     Gilgamesh rolls his hand. "The fact that you are all mongrels of the lowest caliber can be overlooked for the moment. Even the most degenerate mutt has a true purebred at the heart of its tree."

     "You are all my subjects, so you may as well remember it and act like it."

     Yeah. Yeah, this is sort of the problem with Gilgamesh.

     Even when he's right, he's still an asshole.
Staren     They both hate Mort. Staren cringes internally a little, but okay, maybe this meeting will get a bit better... And Majima excellently leads into giving one of the leaders a chance to give intel. Excellent.

    Staren can't help but turn his head as he smells the bread Gilgamesh has put out. He can't help but stare at someone cutting bread with magical artifacts, and Gilgamesh sure is making a statement even if Staren doesn't necessarily agree with its values.

    He takes the bread before him and takes a big bite as Gilgamesh speaks again.

    Okay, that might get some hackles raised but damn, this is good bread.
Karian Icefang     "I doubt this will get us anywhere. You should know that an inquisitor will never work with a heretic, even an accused one." Karian says, slowly moving up to remove his helm. Under it was the face of the 'Space Viking', full beard, eye patch, long greyish with hair, warrior braids tied in both beard and hair, and his wolf fangs. He then quickly looks at Pia, a cold glare in his good eye. "Mort is no Xeno. He is a mutant, if you must label him something. But he has been a better ally then nearly all of the Inquisitors I've known." Though he doesn't refuse the offer of food and drink, though he suspects the drink won't affect him, aside from tasting nice.
Staren     Staren actually groans into his bread when Karian speaks, although he manages not to bang his head on the table.
Majima Goro "...Mister Icefang, it's very fortuitous that you say that," Majima interrupts, raising his glass of wine as Gilgamesh provides.

"...For the Inquisitor is not working with chaos, nor vice versa. They are both working, separately, with the Concord. I have only invited both of them here tonight at the same time so that neither may think I favor one or the other," He says, closing his eye for a moment.
"We shall save who has what rights to the planet, at least, until we are certain there will be a planet to fight over. Surely you understand that wisdom."
Raziel Bread and alcohol are shared by the King of Heros.  Nobody dares refuse the gift, nor could they because of how...good it smelled.  They both ate and drank...and for a time the tensions eased a bit.  The reminder that both were of the same race, and that they all could agree that the Empe-I mean, King, was kind of an asshole.  The kind of guy who convinces a clergyman that his religion is bad then burns down his home/church in front of him.  

However, tensions ARE eased.  

Pia stands up, walking towards the podium/speaking area.  Karian's words initially seem to fall on deaf ears, until she finally stands at it, and looks straight at him.  "I will remind the Vlka Fenryka, that the Emperor's Holy Inquisition does not answer to them.  I will also remind /the Captain/, such that he is, that the Xeno in question is a member of the Multiverse, and not from earth.  He is not human and calling him a mutant would be an insult to those who still serve the Emperor despite their lacking faith.  As such, a Xeno he shall remain."

She breathes in, "Also, do not attempt to stir up trouble, /Captain/.  I have a writ, can you say the same?  I am given leave to address this situation as I see fit.  And unlike yourself, as you have done so recently, I shall not fail the Emperor...or his sons," She says, very pointedly.  

Giulia who stares at all of this, simply puts a drink to her lips, indulging in the simple pleasures given to her by the King of Heros.  Trying to hide her smile at the two going at each other like cats and dogs.  

"Now, with that unpleasantness out of the way.  We were sent here by the Inquisition to make sure this planet did not fall into the warp.  We've been here some months, before the Concord's...reorganization.  The fact that it may have changed hands is irrelevant because if this world is to serve the Imperium, it must needs be saved.  Rather as part of an allied nation that trades with the Imperium and pays its tribute, or back under its control."

"The device in question, or rather, the artifact is a demonic item better known as the Orb of Malicious Wave.  It has also been known as the Orb of Ignorance, as toying with something beyond one's understanding is also a way of triggering it.  It was sealed here some time ago but was stolen in recent memory."

"The artifact can enhance the signature of a person in the warp, either allowing for communication through it over obscene distances...and in relative safety.  It can also be used to drag entire planets into the warp, as the secondary function is to punish those unable to understand it's function."

"We thought, at first it was in the hands of these...heretics.  However, I have recently been made aware that it is not the case, and will let...their representative, such as it is, speak to that.  If this is true, then there is an even deeper conspiracy at work."
Karian Icefang     
"...And I will remind the Inquisitor I do not answer to her, nor any in her organization. I answer to the Great Wolf, the Allfather, or His Sons. Not to mention that the 'xeno' in question bears a mark of acceptance among your order." Karian replies, taking all of his strength to suppress the urge to wring the insolant Inquisitor's neck right then and there.
Raziel "Do you have anything at all to contribute to this? If not, could my lord find a seat and promptly silence his verbal vibrations until my time is up?" Pia says, as pointedly polite as she could. "Especially in defense of Xenos who had directly attacked the scions to your left," She mentions, waving towards the Scions who are trying to quietly eat bread and did not want to get between these two. Like. At all.
Karian Icefang     "Tell that to the Guardsmen he has saved. Tell that to the innocent people his flames kept alive when Tyranids came. When the Traitors came. When the worst of our world came, I saw no Inquisitors. Instead, I saw Mortimer. I saw Staren, and everyone else in this Multiverse. So, I will give you one warning, /Inquisitor/..." He says, growling out 'Inquisitor'. "You will show each and every one of the people in the Multiverse their due respect...or do we need to revisit the 'Months of Shame' and how that resolved?"
Majima Goro     "....Is there more, Inquisitor?"
Nishida has, in a fit of pique, managed to live-alter the presentation page shown behind the Inquisitor to update with any and all information she gives. Right now it reads,
'Artifact - Orb of Malicious Wave/Ignorance' with a helpful bean man (The old clipart style, not Rean) scratching his head.
'Communication device that pulls planets into the Warp if misused'
'But where is it?'

Majima sweeps his hands wide. "If you dropped the microphone now and left, I think I'd be suitably flabbergasted. What else have you discovered?"

He gives Karian a look. "...Mister Icefang. Shall we save the presentation on the merits and flaws of Mister Balman for a later date? I am sure I can have Nishida produce some slides for you. In the meantime, we have more pressing concerns than what everybody thinks of your best friend."
Gilgamesh      Gilgamesh leans his elbow on his chair. His hand curls into a fist, settled on his cheek. He crosses his legs. "All of you dogs bark far too loud. I should kick each and every one of you that you might learn to be silent until told to speak, but I have neither the time nor the inclination to do so. Instead, put your bread in your mouth if you've nothing more useful to do with it. Speak only if you have something worth saying; the King tires of listening to your pointless arguments over which of your packs is bigger."

     Gilgamesh tilts his head towards the presentation page. There's a flicker of overwhelming greed in his red eyes. That greed that led him to claim every pleasure and treasure of the Earth as his own.

     After all, *rightfully*, that orb is *probably* his by right anyway.

     There's a flickering of desire in those eyes that's unmistakable. His fingers twitch in the gold. Then he turns back to the assembly. He's obviously Planning Something now.

     That, also, is the problem with Gilgamesh. Where treasure is concerned, he's a wild card if someone like Priscilla isn't around to persuade him.

     Then again, there's basically nowhere safer than the Gate of Babylon.
Raziel "Tell that to the people he brutally murdered to kill me.  Tell that to those who suffered in the wake of his walk of destruction because he is so damaged by your Imperium's failure that all he see's are corpses, and all he can deal is dead," Says Giulia, staring square at the Space Wolf, "Tell me again the character of a man who killed wantonly for no reason?"

"My lord, do me the great pleasure of /shutting up/.  We are trying to save this world, not head butt each other and burn books because we're too stupid to read them," The Inquisitor says, "I am sorry for my words, gentlemen and ladies, but it appears the only way to communicate to a Space Wolf is to make it so simple, even /they/ can understand it."

She breathes, "Besides, I show respect where respect is given.  The King," motioning towards Gilgamesh, and then to Majima and Nashida, "and these men have earned my respect.  Even the Xeno who talks far too much," Motioning to Staren, "Has managed to earn some of my respect.  Your catamite, however, has fired on Tempestus Scions without any provocation while defending themselves.  They did not shoot at him, he attacked them."

Turning towards Nashida, she nods, "Yes, there is more.  We have tried to find more out about who originally stole it, and we have traced that back to...our friend on the other side of the table.  Of course, they too claim to have it been stolen from their vaults.  Checking in on this claim of a third group...has been..."

"Strange to say the least.  There appears to be something leaving a trail, but finding it has been a twisted bog of dead ends.  Trails abruptly ending in a cold body the moment we get anywhere near them.  However, death is always the same way...brutal.  Torn throats, guts spilled out.  Sometimes entire houses covered in gore."
Raziel Guilia notices a look in the eye of the King of Heroes and takes a moment to enjoy the bread a bit more. "I must say, my king, I appreciate you taking time from your obviously busy schedule to help facilitate this. You have my...extended thanks for such use of your time."
Karian Icefang     "So says the heretic." Karian says towards the Sorceress. Then a glare at the Inquisitor. "Watch. Your. Tongue. Inquisitor...Lest I tell Mort the truth of what your organization did after Armageddon...We Space Wolves have long memories..." He says cryptically, before falling silent with drink.
Gilgamesh      Gilgamesh's cold red eyes turn onto Giulia. Those eyes are as distant as the stars, and just as cold as the space between them and the world. There is the sense that he's staring at her not as a human being but as a bug, as a clump of dirt, as a thing in his path. He doesn't smile.

     "Fool, I'm not doing this to help any of you. Your wretched Imperium, your dying gods; all of it is equally worthless to me. I'm here only to ensure that the project Priscilla has worked so hard to begin isn't ruined by your petty self-righteous bickering."

     "Be thankful to her, if you wish. If it wasn't for her I would have slaughtered all of you where you stood. Dogs that can't learn to be silent are only fit to be culled before they taint the population with their stupidity."

     It's a horrible pronouncement, one with malice without direction, a sort of ambient distaste for every single person in the room not named Staren (and possibly Majima and Karian, it's *really* hard to tell how he feels about them). It's cold and cruel, the coldness and cruelty one might expect of a man willing to tear down a hive city and accept billions of casualties for the sake of the survivors growing brighter.

     Karian keeps talking.

     An elegant, spiralling spear hits the table directly in front of him. Gilgamesh's eyes slide over towards him.

     "I am not here for your Imperium."

     That statement done, the spear vanishes in a trail of misty gold, and the King resumes his neutral, apathetic stance.
Staren     After Pia says her piece and then Gilgamesh does his thing, Staren stands and turns to Karian, trying to interrupt before the Wolf can respond in anger. "Karian. Those of us who know you appreciate greatly that despite the Imperium's xenophobia, you were the first to invite Multiversal help. You've given us the chance to save people in this galaxy time and time again, directly or indirectly, when we had none before... and while we're trying a different method now, we remember the opportunity you gave us."

    Staren takes a breath. "However. Right now, we are here to save this planet, and we all have to put up with people we don't like to get it done. If I can tolerate the chief Inquisitor here talking about me like I'm subhuman, you can seethe in quiet while she hates you and yours."

    "...I'm still learning this Hand thing. My arguments the other day were a mistake. We will save the planet. You can play a part in that or not -- and your and Mortimer's swords plunged into the correct bodies would be appreciated. But if this meeting falls apart, /so will the planet and its billions of souls/!" Staren slams a hand on the table for emphasis.

    Then he sits back down.
Majima Goro Majima Goro had honestly expected to have to keep the peace between the Cult and the Inquisition. He was not expecting this to become about Mortimer Balman.
The fire badger has managed to disrupt everything without even being here. Frankly, if Majima didn't have such an important goal here, he'd actually enjoy this. It is, objectively, hilarious. But right now, it's between him and a goal.
    Gilgamesh's disdain for Majima is well known. He isn't concerned anyway.

Deep breath, Majima. "Well, I am glad we have all found some common ground this afternoon, and that it had /nothing/ to do with the quality of the food," He smoothly interjects, trying to draw things back to somewhere approaching any of the goals he actually intended to achieve.

And then Staren...proceeds to actually...say a bunch of things that actually don't hurt anyone's cause at all. that perhaps throws him off more than anything. He rubs his chin a little.

"Thank you, Mister Wiremu, for reminding everyone of the import of tonight's truce. It's not just about the breaking bread and wine, after all." He grins widely.

"Now. I have no doubt that you could find out who it is on your own, Miss Pia. You've come this far, and it's tremendous. But perhaps some of the information Giulia has might speed us along, and time is of the essence. Am I correct on that?" He calls to the Priestess.
Gilgamesh      Staren's speech receives a single, approving eyebrow-quirk from Gilgamesh. It is the first *real* emotion he's shown other than his baseline 'scorn and disdain for everything around him'.

     It's not...it's not *much*, but it's something.
Raziel Gilgamesh's command reverberates across the room.  Almost everyone else shuts up at his command.  Giulia, is quiet for a time...but not due to the command.  She looks at that creature who commands her, looks at the inhumanity in his eyes and the hate at everything, but yet nothing.  She takes a drink of his wine again.

"And yet you are here...a display to how much you love her.  Then very well, she has earned my loyalty," she says, completely evenly, and without an ounce of hesitation.  "I am moved by such displays," She says, with a soft smile.

The Inquisitor, taken aback, but not completely overpowered, stares at the golden king, until someone speaks up.  Coughing, she speaks, "Yes, this I can allow," Pia speaks, though giving the space wolf a glance.  Easily said in it 'go ahead and tell him'.

Giulia stands up and takes the stage next, "We were the ones that originally took the device, deciding to dive into its secrets and learn from it what we could.  I had personally made many discoveries and was on my way to a breakthrough...until one day I found the chamber I had placed it in ransacked, the people watching over it...brutally murdered.  Much in the way that the Inquisitor described."

"We know about her, and as such, we thought that her men had done it in an attempt to scare us into making a mistake, or intimidate us into non-action."

"However, with the large shake-up of the worlds, as well as ... well, other things.  There is a...deafening silence on the other side.  The Warp, at it, is called.  We feel our powers requiring more will to manifest.  It does not bother me, but many of our sorcerers face extra challenges when dealing with their powers."

"This started more recently, another reason why we thought it might have been the inquisition...an attempt to weaken all psychers on the planet."
Majima Goro Nishida helpfully adds to the slide.
'Something is is making magic harder to use.'
A moment.
'Something is is making magic harder t'
'Something is is mak'
'Something is'
'Something is making magic harder to use.'
There is word art of brightly coloured question marks.
Karian Icefang     Karian looks at the spear in front of him, and then over to staren. He takes another drink, using that to calm himself. "Have you considered it could be a rival in your own cult? Or perhaps xenos, such as Tyranids? Are they not capable of such a silence upon the Warp?" He asks, setting down his drink and swapping to food.
Gilgamesh      Gil's face takes on the very tiniest hint of red. He is, after all, still a young man. It's easy to forget, and it only rarely shows, but where Priscilla and Rhongomyniad and Enkidu are concerned, Gilgamesh's youth occasionally leaks through his golden-clad exterior.

     It only lasts for a second, though. And it's hard to call something a vulnerability when the other three people are as dangerous as he is, if not moreso solely because of their willingness to act.

     He doesn't say anything, however. The time for that is past. They're finally on to serious business. He allows his eyes to shut, a symbolic gesture of 'I assume you can behave for ten whole minutes without me needing to remind you.'
Raziel "Just as a matter of fact, we have considered the possibility of a second rival group to us, though I think our host was going to get into that theory itself, as we have not seen hide nor hair of them, just their traces and messes...though, what is that second thing?  I have never heard of that Xenos race.."

The Inquisitor goes pale, the pieces are starting to fall into place.  It is at this moment that the building shakes.  "Another quake?" She asks though she knows the truth.  

The room erupts in an explosion.  

There was a bomb set in one of the walls, in an attempt to collapse it on the room.  However, Majima's construction and set up of the room before prevents the fault from simply dropping the roof on all of you.  Of course...

With that, the Soldiers that were part of the global forces, all of them handpicked by Cadmot, pull up machine guns.  No not to defend you, they level them on your forces, attempting to give the entire room lead poisoning.  Explosions rock the building again, and gunfire can be heard everywhere.

It begins.
Karian Icefang     Karian feels the quake hit moments before the explosion. Thankfully, he was in enough armor to eat the shrapnel, but his quickly pulls his pistol and fires to 'disarm' one of the soldiers...as it literally remove his arm with a bolt shell. "Someone targetted this gathering.....You have a leak."
Staren     Staren just listens intently, although when Karian speaks he does briefly get a sort of 'Ugh, do we have to do this?' look on his face.

    And then: Explosions. Sabotage?! When Staren sees the machine guns being aimed, he disappears under the table, and a black cat bounds across the floor over to the cultists, then becomes Staren again, using his matter manipulator to deploy a protective wall. He offers them armor potions. "Any of you who can't fight, I'll help you escape. Any of you who CAN..." He offers them caseless submachineguns with underbarrel explosive-tipped-gyrojet launchers. Giulia, he assumes can handle herself on account of being a powerful sorceress and also possibly an Exalted of Slaanesh.
Majima Goro Majima only looks surprised for a moment, honestly, before he does a dive and roll, weaving to get close enough to one of the soldiers. Once he does, there's a punch to the face, and a /completely/ non-lethal necksnap. Completely. "...Ah, fuck, that one guy. Course it was that one guy. Arright, looks like it's party time! NEHEHEHEHE!"

Majima is not nearly as fazed by machine gun fire as you might think. He's just going to weave his way to soldiers and hit them with his fists until they stop being vertical and stop firing their guns. It's one of the few things he's remarkably good at in times like this.
Gilgamesh      This is a tremendously poor decision on the part of every single one of those men.

     The King of Heroes' eyes don't even open as the bomb explodes. It scatters shrapnel across the area. Some of it even falls on his throne. He brushes it away with all the interest of a man swatting flies as the men with their machine guns break throug the defensive line.

     They start shooting.

     This is a poor, poor decision. The Gate of Babylon opens in an instant - faster than an instant. A sword is fired directly out of it like a missile. It bisects bullets. It probably bisects the man who fired on the King. There is a very good chance that his head has wound up impaled on the wall.

     The King rises.

     The throne vanishes.

     He turns to face the men and women foolhardy enough to disrupt a peace talk under the King's protection. The look on his face is no longer inactive, misaimed malice. No, not at all. Now that beautiful face, that cold mask of wrath, is pointed. The people who have seen him fight, who have seen him act, have rarely ever seen him like this. Heard him express contempt for lawbreakers, maybe. Heard him threaten those who'd break the King's Law, perhaps.

     This, however, is something else. This is the origin of the Code of Hammurabi. This is the First King, the True King, the First of Heroes. This is the unfeeling engine of cruelest justice that props up the world.

     The King came here for Priscilla. But that is not relevant. The moment the King entered this place, it was under his protection.

     He snaps his fingers.

     Gate of...
     ...Babylon

     That glory is turned outwards. Ripples erupt in the air. Machine-gun fire bounds off the King, not even scratching his armor. Some of them cut past his face, drawing lines of blood that (unfairly) still look beautiful.

     It really doesn't matter.

     Swords. Spears. Axes. Hammers. Drills. Lances. They pierce through the ripples in space like starships emerging from hyperspace. Every single one of them is the highest quality, beyond the craftsmanship of mortal men. These are things made by gods. Made by legendary wizards on mountaintops. Made by ancient, maddened monks privvy to the wisdom of the ages. Made of ancient beasts, of metals that no longer exist in the world.

     The procession of assassins gets *maybe* a whole second to appreciate this before the rain of hell begins.

     It is a cruel, hideous thing, watching Gilgamesh work. Where Majima's fists are efficient and nonlethal, where Karian shoots for shots at arms and legs, where Staren goes to protect, The King's Law Is Cruel. Blades tear off arms. They shred legs in spiralling whirls. They punch into torsos, pinning people to the wall. Spears make pincushions of men in such precise fashion as to keep them alive and suffering throughout all of it. Axes carve through individual fingers at the speed of ballistic missiles. Hammers smash knees and cave in ribcages.

     There is nothing 'nonlethal' about this. Each and every one of these is an execution, an execution of even those dispatched nonlethally by Majima and Karian. It is an exercise in unbelievable cruelty from the red eyes of a creature as far beyond humans as humans are beyond ants, a /thing/ of justice and rulership and law so divorced from human behavior that it is capable of something this horrifying, this...macabre. It is an efficiency that no normal man could ever have - even the cruelest torturer, the most monstrous serial killer, could never manage this startling, apathetic, wide-spread efficient torture, this perfect display of savagery and precision.

     This is not just an execution.

     This is a statement.

     Those who break the King's law will suffer the King's wrath.

     His eyes are filled with nothing but contempt, and the mirrored images of men being cut to ribbons, and a cold deeper than human souls dare delve. Worst of all is his smile - his horrifying, malicious smile, his sadistic smirk. He is not just a cold demigod executing criminals. He is a child pulling the legs off ants to watch them squirm. He is taking pleasure in all of this. Savage, primordial, bloody pleasure. Every scream. Every howl. Every moment of hideous pain. Oh yes.

     The King is cruel. And the King enjoys it so very, very much.
Raziel The most terrifying thing, besides the wrath of the king...is that they keep fighting.  Do they lose an arm?  They pick up the weapon with the other one and fire it half-cocked.  Their legs?  They scream, but still fire. Even the man pincushion to a wall slowly pulls his weapon up, eve driving the swords in deeper to try and fire another shot off.  Kerien shoots the arms off of one, and it tries to reach with it's feet to pull the trigger.  Staren provides defense and weapons to those who stay.  Even THEY can not stop them dead.  Majima punches one across the head, knocking several out.  No matter how many times he tries to put them down, they get back up.  Shakey each successive time...but they just keep standing.  Until Gilgamesh executes them.

When armor is stripped off...well, then it all starts to make sense.

Mutations.  Extra arms, wrong number of eyes.  Some of the least mutated ALMOST past for humans.  The most mutated look like a Jeff Goldbloom and the stepped into a teleporter.  Except for less fly and more generally insecty.  

"Brothers and sisters of the one below...the god above calls to us all!  Rise up, throw down the oppressors, the indulgers, and the damned!  This would be made ready for the gods above!  BURN!  IT!  ALL!" says a familiar voice.  Cadmot's voice.  Of course, it was over the radio of one of the, now dead, soldiers.  

The people in the room, thanks to the quick actions, preparations, and brutal actions of those aligned here...are all alive.  

This is until something drops out of the ceiling as the floor starts to give way.  A large creature, with terrible savage claws, a long tail, and a carapace body slowly rises.  It's body oozing with goo, as it charges Gilgamesh, aiming to drive its powerful talons into the King of Heros.  

Whatever it strikes, leaves a lasting toxin.  One that has laid low even the mightiest Space Marines.
Karian Icefang     Karian growls as he see's the mutation. He already had a few ideas on just who this could belong to. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots the thing drop down and make a move for the King of Heroes. Without even thinking, the Old wolf leaps to tackle the monster, or at the very least take the hit, and bring his own sword down on the monster.
Gilgamesh      They keep fighting.

     This only increases the King's amusement. His hand goes to his face. He starts laughing, a high, cold, cruel laugh that pierces through the rain of the Gate of Babylon and the sound of machine-gun fire raking across him. A bullet lodges itself in his cheek. He doesn't seem to care.

     And, unfairly, it still looks gorgeous.

     His laughter continues as the beast rises, charges, and is met with several tons of Space Marine. It's like he's *mocking* them - the beasts, the suicide men, their efforts all. That high, cold laugh echoes through the radio, right back to Camdot - it's a dismissal of their struggle. It is a King laughing at commoners dying in the dirt. As if he finds it all a funny little joke.

     He walks past Karian struggling with the creature to pick up the radio.

     "Amuse me, dogs. Struggle. Bay and howl and bring your madness to bear. I want to taste your despair. I want to see your eyes as you die, knowing that nothing you do has any meaning. You who would raise your hand against the King even by accident should at least prepare an amusing distraction on the way to meet your oblivion."

     With that, the King discards the radio, skewering it on one of his blades. The blades strewn throughout the room disintegrate into golden sparkles, vanishing like the morning sun.
Majima Goro Majima Goro ...uh.
Arright, so Gilgy-chan just solved all the soldiers. He's kinda a badass. Majima's absolutely going to have to challenge him to a fight later. Man. They're all dead. Way worse than he'd do, but..
...oh. They're...all weird creepy horrors. Alright. Not completely out of the range of what he expected.

Then the radio turns on, the traitor guy starts screaming some stuff that he'd probably understand if he had been doing this long enough.

At the very least, he understands giant carapace monster. Well, he could help with that, absolutely, but it seems like a better plan to make sure Pia-chan and Giulia are evacuated. He's only got, at tops, like three weapons on him right now. Practically unarmed.

And it'd be an absolute shame if the Inquisitor died here, for multiple reasons. "...Arright, who wants an exit route, this way please!"
Staren     Okay, the cultists Staren promised to protect (wait, did he actually? Oh well, he was thinking it) are as safe as he can make them in a firefight situation. Staren joins the fight with his trusty laser pistol. Machine gun rounds bounce off magic, or start to break his forcefield, or impact his coat (it's changed back into a labcoat) which takes it pretty well although he's knocked back. There would be nasty bruises if nanites weren't going to fix them after the fight. And... everyone lives. Good. Staren breathes a sigh of relief.

    And then a giant monster falls out of the ceiling. "WHAT THE HELL IS A TYRANID?!" Staren shouts back at Karian over the noise of battle, and motions for the cultists to leave, if they don't feel like fighting it. As for him...

    Well. Maybe it's not the smartest idea to stick around when there's tons of people here who can handle it, but the giant thing aggroing on Gilgamesh is too good an opportunity to ignore!

    Staren reaches into his bag and swaps the laser pistol out for what appears to be a higher-caliber submachinegun, and just pours a full-auto hail of bullets into the thing.

    Of course, each bullet is actually a high tech miniaturized anti-tank shell that airbursts into a tiny lance of piercing plasma before it impacts, because this IS a big nasty space monster.
Raziel Over the Radio, the voice of the madman comes back.

"What are you to them?  Nothing.  You are an insignificant spec compared to the gods of the stars!  You will suffer, die, and struggle with no hope to survive!  The ones above will come and consume all sin, and all that will be left is the purity of its true believers!  Hahahahaha!"

Karian throws his weight into the beast, taking the claw that was meant for Gilgamesh.  Already he could feel that Toxin spreading...as his armor seemed to do nothing against those mighty claws.  The two struggle, as the Space Wolf has to manage to keep the beast in check, and without dropping the entire room on them.

Staren shoots the thing in the back, while Majima escorts the leaders out.  Though as they leave, a bolt of psychic power and a few lasgun shots hit the Tyranid.  The other cultists and Scions stand up, firing at the beast, joining in with Staren.  

Until, finally, Karian has it right on the edge of the window. With one last push, he can push it out, and watch it drop endlessly into the abyss below.  While many people in this room want to kill the other, for the moment...well, they're all on the menu.  The room shakes again, as the planet makes a bit of a rumble everywhere.
Karian Icefang     Karian feels the claw burying itself into him. Gritting his teeth, he fights back and with enough effort, hurls the beast from the window. But as he turns, the damage was visible. A considerable sized hole in his armor and into his actual flesh. Those who know Astartes physiology would know the wound should have already began to heal, but this one....was not. "Tyranid toxins..." He says, stumbling his way out with the others.
Staren     "Oh great, you're one of THOSE." Staren replies to the radio, with an eyeroll. After the thing is pushed out, he opens his mouth to give a lecture, then hesitates. "...You know what? I'm too tired to lecture idiots. Know only this: That when you are dead and gone, the deeds of many of those here today will change the Multiverse, and none beyond this world will even care about your 'star god'."

    he turns to the Slaanesh cultists, gives them an earnest "Thanks." and then runs over to Karian. "Tyranid toxins? Okay, what are these things and what do we need to cure you?" It doesn't yet occur to him that there might not be one known.
Gilgamesh      The radio keeps talking. Gilgamesh crushes it under his heel.

     He doesn't say anything else. His golden armor evaporates, leaving behind his favored black coat and white sweater. His hair falls back down into its loose configuration. He produces from nowhere a cup of what smells like enormously strong coffee.

     Amusing.