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Owner	Pose
Rita Ma	OBTAINED: Crimson-Silver Key (Dropped by General Satsui. Doubtless opens a path forward.) 'OBTAINED': Molten Scabbard (The backstage crew thoughtfully put it in a glass jar for you. Though mostly-cooled, it remains liquid gold with six magic gems floating inside like boba.) OBTAINED: 9L4l2I0F1H (... which is even more flower-money. Your personal shares come to approximately 1L. Anything that doesn't cost L is affordable; anything that costs multiple is a group buy.)      Back through the surreally-mundane backstage, full of temporary warpgate equipment and office accessories and white-collar Paladins employees, one arrives once more in the lounge-and-shop area.      BGM: https://youtu.be/r9jGvaEWEeM      Once more, the lounge is quiet, empty, coolly-lit and plush-furnished like a reading-room of a library. Now the strange coral-like portal-blocking webbing only covers two stained-glass windows, the rest being open for backtracking (something the simulation has, thankfully, not demanded). Once more, the wooden door to Miss Ritescu's shop is invitingly slightly ajar, letting its warm lamp-light spill out.      The sign out front reads: ROYAL CONSIGNER'S GENERAL SHOP - OP|Cl|open! New things daily! I hope it makes you happy! RULE 1: No fighting   (Something was written in red, but it's been wiped away.) RULE 2: No stealing RULE 3: Respect the castle's integrity please!      Once more, it's like a cozy wooden-floored fantasy convenience store, with standard adventuring staples lining the shelves. Once more, the good stuff is behind the counter: Maid Disguise Comes with featherduster! The tag says 'not for Kale'. 2I Drift Parasol Lets you fall slowly and glide a little. 3l1I Empty Bottle I had another fairy but she ran away... I hope she comes back. 1H Fishing Rod I... don't think there's fish in the castle? If you bring me one, I'll be proud! 1L Silken Blindfold The Queen told me there's definitely a real use for this. 2I2F Homemade Seaweed Soup Keep your energy up! 2H Homemade Ganjang Gejang Salty raw crab. I made it not-spicy this time! 1F2H Piece of a Broken Crown I'm not sure where this came from. It's old and sad. 5L Cracked Gold Locket Did someone drop this? It's too fragile. I can't open it without breaking it. 5L
Rita Ma	And once more, Miss Ritescu is...      Huh. Where is she, actually? The doorway bell didn't summon her.      You have the run of the shop to yourselves for a couple minutes, before she emerges from a lounge portal mildly out-of-breath and comes in through the shop's front door. "Oh! I'm really sorry! The petal jar got full, so I was just out for a bit to... you know." The petal-money-jar under her arm is empty now, and she thunks it down on the counter in its usual spot before vaulting over to her seat.      "Whew. Okay! Can I get you anything?" She'd had bags under her eyes before; she still does now, starting to munch on one of her own raw crab dishes with metal chopsticks, but they've faded somewhat. It seems like today is a better day for little Ritescu.      That is, until she picks Aidan and Sarracenia out of the group. Then her expression gets a little more sullen; arms cross uncomfortably, posture slumps. They know why.      "Is it true? You were stealing books and throwing bombs in the library?"
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan has come to the most difficult decision of his life. Submitting to this concession is painful. But in the end, he must, if only for self-preservation. He's wearing Sarracenia's full torso breastplate today. He flips the tag on the maid costume, opening his mouth, then closing it. "Probably a good idea." He flips over the fishing rod, considering it when Rita speaks up. "Is it true? You were stealing books and throwing bombs in the library?" "What?" He looks up with a blink. "It's a library with thousand of books." He glances at the sign which says 'no stealing'. He has to stare at the sign for approximately five seconds to mouth out 'ste-al-ing? stalling? steeee aaaaal ing?' before snapping his fingers, "Stealing!" Then a pause, "Wait, you mean the whole castle? There were hundreds of books. Books that attacked us!" Another pause, "Wait, how do you know I stole one whole book out of a whole library?" His gaze swivels around to look for Petra.
Petra Soroka	What is Petra supposed to do here?     Confronted with the maid disguise, burdened with context and unspecified expectations, the routes for Petra's future become numerous and every one of them is shadowed with stormy clouds. What *could* the maid outfit possibly be for, in the simulation? Knowing Lilian, and knowing the aesthetics of the castle, there might be living quarters that maids are regularly inhabiting to do upkeep, and the outfit could help the heroes infiltrate without raising any alarms. That's entirely possible, even *likely*.     However, should it be Petra Soroka who bears the curse? After everything? One last job before retirement? Will Liliana be expecting her to take the outfit and put it on, and then when she shows up in the throne room after the outfit was totally useless, she'll laugh at Petra and make her shine her boots again? And maybe she'll spit on her? Was it all part of her plan?     The tag settles it, though.     "Damn, tough luck, Kale." Petra says, while sorting out two iris petals. "Still second place even after all this time."     Later, Petra might consider that exclusing Kale by name would be the easiest possible way to guarantee that Petra would buy the outfit. Right now, she just neatly folds it up and stores it away, and her reflection in the stained glass can be glimpsed wearing the dress that she isn't. "Whew. Okay! Can I get you anything?"     "Hey, Ritescu! Doing better today? Oh, and--" Petra whirls and points accusingly at Aidan and Sarracenia, tattling in time with Rita, "They were stealing books and throwing bombs in the library, by the way!"
Rita Ma	It's only narrowly possible, for most people present, to see Ritescu's arm in motion. But you hear it in the whip-crack of her ruffled shirt's long sleeve. You see it in the swirl of dust in the air.      Still barely sitting, but wide-eyed, she is gripping Aidan's throat from across the counter. She squeezes just a little, still letting him talk.      "Ms. Elena told me. People have to live here, you know," Miss Ritescu says. Her eyes slide over to Petra, and she nods. "That's as bad as stealing from someone's house. My house. Can you give the book back?" Squeeeeeze. "If not, you'll have to pay another way."      Her tone is evenly demure. It doesn't suit her narrowed pupils at all.
Angela	"Excuse me." Cinder startles and draws out her Lobotomy Corp video pad. Angela, apparently, has connected to the pad while Cinder was--recovering from heat exhaustion--making her way back to the store. "Thank you, Cinder. Did I hear that people were throwing ''bombs'' in a ''Library''? Bombs. In a LIBRARY?" Angela's expression is as stone-cold as ever but there's rising heat in her tone. "Libraries are not a place for throwing bombs, you could damage the books or burn the whole library down. That is just completely unconscionable. Libraries are repositories of knowledge, sometimes ''rare'' knowledge, you do not act in ways that can endanger the books." "I um. I didn't throw any bombs. Or steal any books." Cinder says, "Um, speaking of, Miss Ritescu. May I have some seaweed soup and uh... Do you have any...water? I think I almost passed out from the heat before and I'm suuuper dehydrated." "If any of you steal books from my library or, god forbid, ''throw bombs in the library'', I will boil you alive. Some actions are beyond my countenance even in a passive way." ''How do you know I stole one whole book out of a whole library?'' "Because LIBRARIANS keep track of books, you fool!" Angela actually shouts before exhaling. "There's whole systems for ensuring every book is in its proper place and if a book is missing and one hasn't had the decency to check it out like a normal person--the books are FREE after all you simply need a card and--" A thought occurs to her. "Why do you even need a book? You cannot even read. Give that book you stole to Miss Rita--" "She's Ritescu--" "To Miss Ritescu this instant, Aidan." She turns her gaze to Sarracenia like hse's about to tear into her. "... But she doesn't. She just stares with a mixture of disbelief, horror, and rage, and says nothing. " Cinder gives Petra's reflection a small wave before adding, "Hm... The blindfold's useful huh... But ... ... Hey, you know... Fishing rods are always useful. I'll go with that too." "Honestly...bombs in a library, stealing books..." Angela mutters.
Ivy Carrow	"A pleasure to make your acquantiance once more, ma'am Ritescu..." Ivy gave the not-vampire an elaborate bow, with a flourish of a billowing cloak. "It seems the night has been kind to you, as always. While the pleasure of your comany is succor enough, we have indeed come to peruse your wares once more~"     Alex tries to pick someone out who might understand. His eyes wander toward Woz, and then to Sougo. He settles beside the Demon King. "She's always like this." Exasperation and fondness intermingles in their voice. "No one could ever stop her." And why, their smile asked, would they want to?     "Is it true? You were stealing books and throwing bombs in the library?"     "I fear it's so," Ivy threw Aiden and Sarracenia under the bus to break bread with and appeal to this not-vampire. Conspiratorially, she leaned forward, speaking in a stage whisper, "Between you and I, I think that may be why the Lady Aria refused to grant us an audience there. Small wonder, with such wanton displays of disrespect..."     She clucked her tongue.     "The crown looms in importance..." Ivy intoned. "Its time may draw near...."     "And that's your guess, captain?"     "My gut feeling!"     "Her guess."
Powerpuff Girls	Blossom and Princess enter in their usual pair-of-girls approach, or, Princess does. Blossom half-floats, some steps being right on model and others being floating-considering turns like the Powerpuff moves in a kind of zero gravity. Princess, on the other hand, struts, each step bringing the firm sound of her arrival on the castle's grounds. "Oh, it's not spicy today." Blossom notes, this time actually going right for the salty crab and stopping at the counter to count out each petal like a precious penny. Looking about for the bowl, Blossom glances at the empty Bottle and considers for a while. During this consideration, Princess Morbucks sidesteps into the shop with her broad-pom'ed ginger wingspan, a kind of excited look across freckled face to see... "Oh. No General Murder in the shop after, huh? I played--" The rich girl tisks and looks away. "Read... several stories where that happened." But there's no General Satsui here, just a key, and-- oh hey, Ritescu! Blossom's moment of arranging people's petals into a little pile lets her zip over and deposit currency into the real intended receptacle rather than filling up a fairy's bottle-house with them. Plus, might it be stealing? Hard to say! Was it stealing when you opened a bag of chips in the store without paying? Did Ritescu take shrinkage into account? Was this operation, as an actual Paladins sanctioned exercise, insured? Blossom is smiling up bright-ruby eyes at Ritescu when a blur of motion zips past her and surprises the Puff, turning to follow behind her first. Seeing Aidan being choked and asked rather direct questions... Blossom goes about producing a glass Tupperware to store a second helping of crab 'for later, just in case'. Princess Delilah Morbucks III, first name Princess, of the land of California, has seen a lot of Supervillain Stuff in her time. Dinners with danger, dances with despair, chairs with whole arrays of lasers and slowly moving saws with very overwrought safety guidance systems. Seeing someone getting grabbed by the neck and having ultimatums delivered to them was *more* relaxing and not less for the roleplaying trial-Puff. "Oh hey, they stock 'find out' at this store too! Sometimes that runs cost-ly." Snarks the hornet-coded woman in gold 'dress' and black leggings and power gloves. Blossom, not a veteran villain, moves her glance between Aidan and Ritescu as 'negotiations' take place, uncomfortably ready for another boss-fight to happen right here, right now. Princess, having been the one doing tracheal lifts, is much more comfortable and in the right mindset for the 'simulation' once more.
Timespace Riders	Woz purses his lips at the sight of the blindfold and the maid costume, but says nothing about them. Instead, he remarks on the momentary absence of Ritescu.     "Curious. Perhaps the recent disturbances have affected her--ah. Felicitations," he adds, when she arrives.     He and Sougo are still rather beat up from the gauntlet last time. Yes, they've obviously had time to rest, but that time wouldn't exist without the abstraction of this being a training scenario. Which is why Sougo is the first to suggest:     "Hey, everyone! Before we look at any, um... special purchases, we should make sure everyone has something to eat. Being... guests, here, is kind of a lot. Odette, do you have any water or anything we could use to stay hydrated, too--oh, man..." Is it true? You were stealing books and throwing bombs in the library? Ms. Elena told me. People have to live here, you know.     "Indeed," says Woz, who seems very pleased with this turn of events. "However," he says, tracing a finger idly along Ritescu's gripping limb, without even a hint of pressure to suggest she ought to release her grip, "Might I convince you to rid us of him even if he returns what was stolen? Perhaps in the next life he will think before he acts."     "Woz," Sougo chides, removing his retainer's wheedling hand from Ritescu. "Don't ask people to kill our allies." Under his breath, "Even if they kind of suck..."     Woz sighs. "I suppose keeping him alive is a punishment in itself, though it affects us much more than him."     "Can you please do some reading and find out what's the most immediately useful to us?" He gently, affectionately squeezes Woz's hand, as a means of plying the evidently put-upon retainer.      Alex finds little symapthy from him--he seems more fond of Ivy's dramatic overtures, if anything, though most of his focus is now on the book.
Odette Raskins	Once again, Odette's here! The EMT's still looking pretty banged up after the last outing, due in part to the harrowing gauntlet she had run through with everyone and then that stunt with Satsui cutting and busting up her arm rather badly. She's still pushing through to be here, though, although the glove and sleeve of her left arm look a fair bit more snug compared to her right from all hte extra bandages and padding. She doesn't look like she's too emotionally drained, at least, but that's probably because she has something to look forward to: Another stop in Ritescu's shop! The red writing on the signs has her doing a brief double-take, but it certainly doesn't stop her from heading in with a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed yawn. "H.. Hello, Miss Ritescu!" She calls out, then pauses when she doesn't see her around at all. Where could she be? Odette waits by the door patiently, looking increasingly more worried as the minutes pass and she starts looking around outside to see if there's any clues as to Ritescu's sudden disappearance. Thankfully, she shows up, and the EMT lets out a heavy sigh of relief. "Oh! H-hi, Miss Ritescu. Don't worry, we weren't here long." Odette answers with a notable lift in her posture and mood, waiting until the proprietor's in position before starting to take a look around. "Let's see, let's see... Okay! Um. Oh, there's some new stuff here today. Definitely need to get more of the soup and the crab for the road..." She starts, pauses for a second, then affirms her decision with a little nod. "I-I'll just have to work out more to make up for it. What else, what else... Eh?" She pauses at the maid disguise, of course, eyes gleaming briefly upon spotting it. "Ooh! Just like in my shows..." She murmurs, still awestruck as she imitates an iai stance briefly. "Hehe... Ah. C-can I get one of those along with the soup, too? And... Um. What's the featherduster for?" Odette asks as she looks over at Ritescu briefly, then back at the tag catching her eye. "'Not for Kale'?" She looks over at Aidan and Petra commenting on that with a questioning look, then back at the former with a more judgmental eye when she hears that Aidan stole some books. "M.. Mister Aidan, just because there's a lot of them doesn't mean you should break our promise to Miss Ritescu." She scolds lightly, then sighs softly and starts turning back to Ritescu." Sorry, we'll make sure they get r-" Odette sees that grip, and she stands perfectly straight while not daring to even move from her spot. She's not sure how to react to what she's seeing besides staring in both fear and awe at what Ritescu's doing.
Odette Raskins	"Odette, do you have any water or anything we could use to stay hydrated, too--oh, man..." Still rod-still, Odette manages a slow nod at first before taking in a breath and exhaling quickly. "Oh! Uh. Y-yes, Mister Sougo. I've got water and some energy drinks in here." She pats her duffel bag gingerly, trying not to rustle it around too much while opening it up for Sougo to see the pile of medical supplies, bottles, and cans inside. There's a non-zero chance anything carbonated might blow up if he (or anyone else) picks one of those energy drinks after the next battle or platforming area.
Sarracenia	'Is it true? You were stealing books and throwing bombs in the library?'      Sarra barely has time to consider the new items on sale before they are already presented with a challenge. She crosses her arms, looking somewhat apologetic...but not completely. "The very books of the library were attacking us, along with shadowy figures from paintings and various other hazards. And for some reason it was decided to put gates with -puzzle locks- in there amidst all the danger. So, yes. I used bombs to burst open gates because there was not time to waste on puzzles. Not to mention the very books themselves were attacking us. There was little choice but to defend ourselves and proceed as quickly as possible. I think we did very little damage to the library all things considered. The lab areas though...I did throw as many bombs and fireballs in there as I could. There was acid and poison gas!"      'They were stealing books and throwing bombs in the library, by the way!'      'Still barely sitting, but wide-eyed, she is gripping Aidan's throat from across the counter. She squeezes just a little, still letting him talk.'      Sarra yelps in surprise when Rita is suddenly holding Aidan by the neck, and Sarra pulls her hammer from her purse in the blink of an eye. "R-rita?!" she exclaims in surprise. She has to take a moment to take stock of the situation, then huffs. "Look, I am sorry for the damage to your home. But, this is a...wait are you Rita or Ritascue right now?...UGH! Look, this home is a warzone during the times we are engaging the traps and forces of the Queen! Collateral damage is not something we can avoid completely! If you want the book back I am sure we can manage that! But, I will not apologize for doing what I must in a battle to ensure we reach the goal and survive the experience! Once the...confrontation with the Queen has happened I will be happy to help with any repairs, presuming this place is still being used as a home at that time!"      Sarra can't really take action. Though she does take note of Aidan's breastplate. "...I see you chose something a bit more appropriate today?"      'Odette, do you have any water or anything we could use to stay hydrated...'      Sarra is feeling a bit of stress at the moment, so she somewhat aggressively says, "I have a near limitless supply of refreshments! We should never be lacking for hydration!"
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan frowns. He would absolutely steal a book from a villain's lair if that were the case. Thankfully, Aidan has a throat guard. Granted, that just means he'll have steel shoving into his throat if Rita decides to squeeze much harder. He hrks, grabbing at the hand out of reflex. A second later, it clicks into his head. "Right," Aidan coughs, whispering as he forgot part of the story, "Lady Ritescu." And forgetting that he has to come BACK here where there are multiple people who will saute him for something like this. He lets go of the hand grasping his throat and reaches down to his bag, pulling the book from it, similar in the way someone might disarm themselves of a gun and carefully hand it over, showing they aren't a threat. "I'm sorry, Lady Ritescu. You run this shop for us, and I stole from you. I wasn't thinking." He glares at Woz, but the recent fiasco in the kitchen does weigh heavily on his mind. An ear flicks back towards Sougo as well and Aidan straightens his shoulders under Ritescu's grip. Back at Angela, "I've been practicing, yanno." His eyes dart back to Sarra with a grin, but he's not exactly in a place to talk MUCH until he gets himself out of being ripped in half.
Rowdyruff Boys	Brick retrieves his phone from the pocket of Boomer, complete with a set of earbuds, pops them in, and begins to play something in fast-forward. One of his most cherished habits is, in fact, logging everything. He couldn't hear what was going on while in the star and all of his gear he didn't stow was vaporized, but Boomer has body cam footage and Brick simply watches it in ultra-fast-forward, using his extraordinary perception and ability to operate at that speed in order to parse the entire battle from front to back in about two minutes. But he's focused on picking up a conversation. "Right, so," he pulls his shitty airline flight earbuds out and throws his phone back into Boomer's pocket to his brother's visible displeasure. But he's not irritated enough that he says anything about it, because Boomer didn't get his clothes burned off down to athletic shorts. "People think that because you adopt the trappings of niceness without actually being nice and are very eager, in the fashion of an average person, to bring harm to those who are doing things you're not approving of. To be clear, those impulses are basically psychologically normal. Acting on them is what starts getting to be a problem, but not everybody can be elementally nice. A part of being good for a lot of people is to play-act until the habit is just how you act." "Your mode of behavior isn't what it was at the front end. You stopped being concerned about impressing specific people. What constitutes an asset or liability within my personal evaluation of this mission set is pretty straightforward-- do I have to think about compensating or having another person compensate for this person's mistakes?" For a moment he pauses and makes some strange faces, obviously trying to adjust something inside of his own mouth. Failing to do so to his satisfaction, he sighs in exasperation. "Stellar environments are always weird to come back out of. Anyway..." "I know how Petra is a fuck-up and how to account for that well enough that she's barely a liabiity, and giving people endless shit for making mistakes while they do better -- whatever the reason for doing better -- is a quick ticket to making people go back to whatever habit you want them not to repeat. The only person so far who has been PURE liability is Ru Li, but even then sometimes you have to field injured people and that's that." He jerks his head in Aidan's general direction, "Proudpick is doing a decent job of trying to de-escalate the social situation but he doesn't actually believe in anything and what he's willing to do to get what he wants -- itself an undefined variable -- is basically limitless. And he's stupid about it. Tries to cut deals in the open that betray whoever he's with. Don't think he even realizes the implications of his haggling when he does it, but it means I always have to think about his negative-slant x-factor for as long as he's involved."
Rowdyruff Boys	"So, why don't you have a point?" Brick raises both arms in a pointlessly theatrical shrug and then drops his arms back down to his sides. "It's because you only care about the couching and you just told me to my face that you only care about the couching. The way you deal with Eggman doesn't just magically not apply to Petra. You just don't want to deal with it that way, because you're easy to needle, and Petra is a machine that oscillates between trying to commit suicide and needling people she thinks are pathetic non-persons." "I'm not going to be the one to tell you or anyone to never ever lose your temper with annoying people but the fact that other people also scan you this way should speak for itself. If I have to think about the fact that you have that temperament, it's a part of how I evaluate liability. And so I do. 'All of these people drooled over Evil Queen Lilian' is another mark of liability I have to be thinking about, with regards to everyone who does it, which you did." Folding his arms over his chest, he concludes, "There aren't that many people I don't consider to have any liabilities. It's mostly just Blossom." "And yes," he sneers, "I threatened to drown several petroleum company lobbyists and members of the United States House of Representatives for colluding to artificially increase the price of oil, which would have led to increased prices for the general public and lined the pocketbooks of everybody involved, while promoting and reinforcing oil dependence. I have no interest in governance, but since I must interact with the rotting edifice of their misshapen society, I have no reservations at all about scruffing them and pointing out that building their pyramid upside-down is going to crush people. If all they have to say is 'that's allowed', there's no moral dilemma in just killing them for their state-sanctioned violence, because there's nothing they can do to credibly disallow that. Just like there's nothing regular people can do to credibly disallow them from their malfeasance."
Rowdyruff Boys	"What kind of books do you like?" Brick diverts to Ritescu once he's through 'catching up', ignoring the developing situation because he is not meaningfully one of the causes of it.
Petra Soroka	"I um. I didn't throw any bombs. Or steal any books."     "That's true, Cinder did good." Petra backs her up to both Angela and Ritescu, like she's supporting her alibi. "No Fahrenheit 451 shit going on from us at all." "If not, you'll have to pay another way."     It's no surprise that Petra would be immediately on the side of a pretty girl she likes choking the life out of Aidan. The politely sweet threat to continued existence is a different genre than she's used to supporting, but she can't say she *dislikes* it. She leans forwards, elbows on the counter to prop up her cheek on her palm, breathy-smug gossip distance.     "You know, he can't even read. He doesn't know how. So I bet he was just stealing it to resell it, like the grossest of those dissidents in the village. Maybe he doesn't even have it anymore." "Don't ask people to kill our allies."     "Soooougo, that's only true if he really counts as an ally. I mean, if we didn't actually know him as a person, wouldn't it be more believable that he's a plant from our enemies who acts stupider than he is, to hold us back until he reveals his true loyalties? It'd be the only way to salvage his character, in my opinion. Too bad his design's so dull that I wouldn't be able to take him seriously even if he somehow did actually turn out to be working against us this whole time." "And... Um. What's the featherduster for?"     Petra puffs disdainfully at Odette. Amateur. "Once the...confrontation with the Queen has happened I will be happy to help with any repairs, presuming this place is still being used as a home at that time!"     Knuckles squashing her cheek, head tilted smugly to the side, Petra's eyes track Sarracenia with her face only partway deigning to turn in her direction, speaking aside to Ritescu instead. "Queen Liliana is so generous, huh? To even invite the deranged and mentally ill into her castle like this. She's really got so much hope for people, if she thinks even they're able to be saved."     Hmmm. Was her attitude always like that? Did it shift when she got into character, in order to lie to keep the shopkeeper's mood steady, or did it shift when Rita started choking Aidan? Much to think about.
Petra Soroka	"I know how Petra is a fuck-up and how to account for that well enough that she's barely a liabiity,"     Petra perks up at the mention of her name, and only processes the surrounding context of it a few moments later. Her instinctual excitement at being called for dulls when she realizes that she's sort of being scolded instead, but she doesn't sink to the point of being dejected, because she's still comparatively better! So rather than being indignant or mumbling unhappily, Petra's rebuttal is laced with just enough lingering cheerful energy that it seems out of place.     "I'm not a liability! I'm totally not going to betray anyone. I mean it. If you rely on me, it'll actually only ever turn out well." She hesitates, realizing how that came out when spoken out loud. "... Is there a way to say that that doesn't sound suspicious?" ". . . and Petra is a machine that oscillates between trying to commit suicide and needling people she thinks are pathetic non-persons."     Wow! Petra was mentioned twice more, even! What a good day for Petra Soroka. It's a little less good when thinking about why Brick would specifically have those two paradigms for her behavior-- accurate though they may be-- because her Townsville performance is never a pleasant memory to recall.     Faintly, she protests, "Mostly just the second one at this point, by the way...." "There aren't that many people I don't consider to have any liabilities. It's mostly just Blossom."     Actually a very fair point and one Petra has no objection to. She's fine being graded as a bit more of a liability when that's the scale-- boys who rate their girlfriends as the pinnacle of trustworthiness and criticize everyone else for falling short are praiseworthy.     While all that is going on, Petra continues to engage in Commerce. In addition to purchasing the maid outfit and approving of Cinder's choice in the fishing rod, she picks up some seaweed soup and offers the rest of her money to go towards the locket, or, less enthusiastically, the crown.
Timespace Riders	Look, this home is a warzone during the times we are engaging the traps and forces of the Queen! Once the...confrontation with the Queen has happened I will be happy to help with any repairs, presuming this place is still being used as a home at that time!     Woz's book snaps shut with an audible thump.     Sougo holds a hand out towards his retainer.     "She must still be a little woozy from the heat stroke," Sougo says, convincingly offering a little laugh and rubbing the back of his head.     "Obviously," says Sougo, stepping forward so that his back is to Sarra. One hand behind his back makes the 'cut that out/drop it' gesture, palm flat. "It's beautiful, this place, you know? Not just in a physical sense, but in the sense that people live here, too. It's just that it's so big, and elaborate, that it's hard for some of us to get from place to place without getting worn out. We happened to head through a spot that some of us, um... weren't in the best of shape for, and we ended up having to take a breather because of the heat and the exertion."     "We'd love to *meet* the Queen, but we're just guests here and we have nothing but respect for the castle." I have a near limitless supply of refreshments! We should never be lacking for hydration!     "Okay!" Sougo says, wearily nice, looking over his shoulder. "I'm glad. If you do, too, that's fine. We just shouldn't continue our tour of the castle without being well-rested, whether it comes from you or Odette." Soooougo, that's only true if he really counts as an ally.     Sougo sighs. "He does. I'd feel better if he was a plant, but then there was that whole recruitment fair thing that... really kinda makes me doubt he'd ever be able to do that. We can talk about it later, but I promise I have a reason that's important to me--something I can't not do and still be who I want to be." ... Is there a way to say that that doesn't sound suspicious?     "No. Therefore, say it, with your full chest and a smile. On that note... I recommend the locket. According to this book, it will be the more immediately useful between the two."
Rita Ma	The maid outfit has elastic components, or some fantasy equivalent... but when Petra puts it on, she might realize it fits her exactly without having to stretch.      Which could mean nothing.      Ganjang gejang comes in Fantasy Tupperware again. 'Salty' is an understatement- the crabmeat is so soy-sauce-brined that it'd be almost inedible on its own. Fortunately it's served on a bed of sticky rice and sliced cucumber, and when practice or preference discovers the right ratio of crab-to-rice per mouthful, the sharp flavor balances out into a yummy harmony that reveals fruity and garlicky undertones.      The fishing rod is weathered, but it's of sturdy modern make; a small selection of artificial lures are included, since worms or cut-bait aren't likely to be an option. Some of the lures would make cute keepsakes on their own!      However, everyone is presently getting their purchased items handed to them by little clawed hands of viscous black oil that flow from Ritescu's cape, because she hasn't taken her eyes off of Aidan's eyes, or her hand off his throat. They seem to move independently of her attention. The perfect little shopkeeper.      More ribbons of viscous black oil flow from within her sleeve, coil down her Aidan-choking left arm, and twine around her fingers. The gooey coating doubles her arm's mass, turning it into a monstrous black claw with three-inch-long talons.      "May I have some seaweed soup and uh... Do you have any...water?"      "Of course, Ms. Cinder. I hope you enjoy. Thank you for the petals."      "What kind of books do you like?"      "Oh. Horticulture. Bugs. Romance stories. But that isn't the point." She can answer Brick so smoothly, polite-and-toneless, without her attention wavering from Aidan a bit.      "You know, he can't even read. He doesn't know how."      "Is that so, Ms. Petra? I could forgive stealing from necessity..." She seems almost perplexed, looking at Woz and Ivy, by how many people seem to want her to crush Aidan's neck.      "I'm sorry, Lady Ritescu. You run this shop for us, and I stole from you."      "Oh," she says. Her lower lip pushes up. She's still considering it, for a second or two after Aidan returns the book. Her big clawed hand lets go of him and dusts off his shoulder, but it doesn't revert. "Well, that's okay, then. I think I forgive you. Just keep in mind you're a guest here, alright?"
Angela	Angela squints skeptically at Aidan. "Get a library card." She says. "Don't steal from private libraries. Ugh." ''Brick speech.'' Angela turns her head towards Brick and stares at him, enraptured. She doesn't know at first he's talking to Sarracenia but it becomes apparent soon enough. Angela doesn't have much use for superheroes in general, though she does approve of Buttercup for totally normal reasons. But she can appreciate someone with superheroic 'smacktalk' in some ways more than an actual superhero. That Brick is also basically a superhero is irrelevent. ''Not everybody can be elementally nice. a part of being good for a lot of people is just playacting until the habit is how you act.'')] Angela cups her chin, frowning thoughtfully. ''All these people drooled over Queen Lilian.'')] "..." Angela frowns. "Only after the evil Queen Lilian? As opposed to just normal Lilian? That suggests that a certain level of 'evil authority' can be..." Angela cups her chin again. "Hm...." She has learned something. "Thank you for your insight--" An infinitesimal pause. "Brick." ''That's true, Cinder did good.'' Cinder beams like she just won an award. ''That's only true if he really ocunts as an ally.'' "Mm. While I find Aidan highly untrustworthy, I am not sure bringing in Aidan's personality is something that should be considered for a hypothetical test--at least not to that far. Broadly agree, though." ''Really kinda makes me doubt he'd ever be able to do that.'' "The Demon King has a fair point--Ah, am I allowed to use 'Demon King' in this scenario? It makes me feel like it is attempting to overshadow the overaching threat. I am sorry, Sougo, I will have to call you Sougo until the mission is complete." ''A list of books Rita likes.'' Angela slowly turns her gaze towards Rita and smiles at her. In the background, Cinder has gotten a fishing rod. "Hell yeah.... I'm totally ready this time..."
Rita Ma	"But, I will not apologize for doing what I must in a battle..."      Ah.      BGM: https://youtu.be/9CcVN8HyVnA      Inexplicably, the little lanterns around the shops all gutter and flicker dark at once. In the moment before they reignite, Ritescu's eyes shine crimson in the darkness, showing snakelike slit pupils.      There is a wet, drippy, slick sound from all around just then, as if her black oil extrusions were everywhere the light isn't. When the lanterns flicker back on, Ritescu's goo-claw is stretched halfway across the room; its exaggerated fingers are spread around Sarracenia's torso without touching it, like a cage, and embedded in the stone wall behind her. That Ritescu could crush her is implicit.      "I'm not stupid, Miss Princess. And I'm not your friend," she intones, back to that hollow-polite voice. Ritescu slides over the counter, keeping her hand where it is, and slowly walks forward while reabsorbing the length of arm. She slips past Blossom in so doing, brazenly turning her back on potential intercessors.      "I accept you as guests, here to learn a lesson." Her eyes part just to look at Sougo, and slight-nod. "I don't accept you as invaders. Why would I be okay with people wrecking my home, just because they 'had' to fight my friends?" Slorp. The goo-claw tenses slightly, each talon digging an inch-long furrow into the stone behind Sarracenia while tightening towards her body. "That's no excuse. I don't accept that."      Rita is a great actor. She's so talented, being able to make every muscle in her face go slack and eyes turn glassy on demand like that. "Apologize, change, and give me your petals, or I will drink off all your flesh, and your friends will get back your bones."      Talented at colorful exaggeration, too!!
Angela	''Rita threatens to drink Sarracenia's flesh.'' Angela's smile reaches her eyes.
Lilian Rook	By the time you use Satsuki's key, the escalation of grand mechanical gates has far exceeded any sense that they could be believably opened on a semicasual basis. The heavy-duty clockwork theatre of breaching it feels more like the lifting of a final seal, in some way. An apparatus capable of surviving the collapse of the stellar engine, meant to hold the line for a while longer after General Satsui's inconceivable defeat; just in case. It's enough to make one worry what lies beyond, and to wonder why the mistress of the castle hasn't shown herself at all since her initial introduction. If she wasnt' before, she's aware of you now, and yet . . .     And yet . . .     Now, for the first time, you aren't immediately greeted with dramatically theme-appropriate violence. The windows beyond the gate show that you're very high up, near the top-- and indeed, in certain places you can feel your center of gravity rise into your head, nullifying part of your weight-- but your most gruelling gauntlet yet just doesn't materialize. At least not for now. Because this isn't the place nor the time for it.     From the glow before dawn to fiery sunset to golden morning morning to dark night and then shining day again, you emerge into warm indoor twilight, the atmosphere tinted rose and topaz for the stained glass. The sprawling level is a rolling collection of differently sized rooms connected only by an unintuitive maze of hallways, its style shifting here and there to match the ostensible function of each region, but unified by an aesthetic that is more tasteful than grandiose, alternating dark hardwood and cream checked marble floors beneath a variety of beautiful carpets and rugs, under the ribbed and vaulted ceilings.     What had been black iron on the first floor is remade in baroquely designed pewter and magnetite, building up fine candelabra, ornamental sculptures, indoor fountains, ornate window frames, and the hard components of rails and handles and display-oriented bowls and plinths, detailed dusty gold. Rich upholstery in shades of magenta, rose, scarlet, and crimson, fills the finer rooms as a matter of course. The warm crackle of candles and fireplaces fills the space with glittering reflected firelights on par with the ballrooms of movies, but along with it, the scents of smoke and honey and incense, colouring the air with the tinted light such that it's shrouded by a nearly invisible haze of pink and golden amber, with the atmosphere of a church on bloodmoon.     But it's the unmistakable decor of a mansion. A gorgeous one. Even from the very start, you can see a luxurious lounge with multiple long sofas and wide tables laden with tea trays and exotic fruit, enclosed by bookshelves filled with diversions around the fireplace; a music room with a grand piano, rack of violins, and a standing harpsichord; a row of guest rooms with furnishings you can feel the urge to sink into, suddenly tempted to sleep by the sight of the beds. Beyond the succulents and flowers in the halls and corners, you can breathe deep enough to detect vegetation and steam a hint of chlorine further in.
Lilian Rook	And you hardly have to move far before you're greeted by ranks of maids in pseudoclassical attire-- something between cosplay nineteenth century archetype-- already in the process of cleaning and sweeping everything spotless, but stopping to move out of your way and bow in passing.     Each one greets you with an effusive little stage line, mostly in eerie unison for the sheer impact of an entire hallway at once responding to your arrival as presumed guests. When they straighten up, any thought of them being homunculi or spirits is banished immediately; they have the subtle gleam of the Queen's programming in their eyes, and the smiles of the most blissfully far-gone villagers.     "Welcome, honoured guests!" is the frequent refrain; a tiny bit Japanese in sensibility, perhaps, but with the perfect curtsy. "Please don't hesitate to ask for anything you may need! Our primary residents are currently busy, but will be with you at their earliest convenience!" A pair of handsome villages dressed as stately butlers are more interested in taking your coats than killing you. Dolled up housemaids join them in questioning if you need a room, a bath, laundry, or a meal, or if you intend to relax in the game room, conservatory, pool, theatre, or 'parlour'. As if, seeing as you're here, it's obvious that you're supposed to be. You're politely informed the study is off-limits for now, as is the gymnasium.     You don't see any sign of soldiers or traps, though the soft ticking of the castle heartbeat is audible over the ever-distant music; this time soft and royally domestic, with gently cascading notes and languid strings, like this were 'the hub' for someone else completely, much unlike the odd little faux-sunny atrium where yours was.     What you do see are more and more people 'tithed' to the castle, dressed as beautiful maids and butlers, rustic porters and vintners, velvet-cuffed accountants and logisticians, being put to valuable work folding sheets, hanging curtains, penning registries, working over list and abacus, carrying water and bottles of wine, relighting candles, replacing incense, polishing statues, dusting paintings, moving fruits to bowls and tea to tables, and otherwise doing anything but tending to their fields or their craft.     It's not all servants, though. Not technically. Not for the size of the floor. You can hear the sounds of chatter and laughter and little squeals of delight from deeper in, not belonging to anyone you know, and the steady patter of footsteps that aren't so crisp and orderly as the help. It's hard to imagine who it could possibly be.     "May I ask which country you hail from?" is a question you're asked out of nowhere. "It'd help us tremendously to make you feel comfortable. We're familiar with all the usual customs." Were you . . . supposed to know this? As part of the simulation? Suddenly it feels like you missed something. Or like, a lot. "The Princess isn't taking visitors at the moment, but we have plenty of spare rooms if you would like to wait." She's a part of the sim? Was there a reference other than the villagers? Most of the portraits and busts are of the Queen, some of the 'generals', and a few of strangers. Is she one? You don't even know what she looks like.     "Or is there urgent business regarding the Event? You may be just slightly too late to swear your support, seeing as the Queen has been terribly busy making the finishing preparations." Do other powers know about this? What is the lore? Was the library supposed to teach you this? Was one of the guardians? You never got to ask about the forge or the observatory or anything! Unfair!
Sarracenia	In the midst of this situation, Brick goes on a longwinded tirade about something that happened a number of days ago. Sarra is not paying too much attention at first, but as he keeps going it draws her attention more and more. She is about to say something to him when...      'Apologize, change, and give me your petals, or I will drink off all your flesh, and your friends will get back your bones.'      The lights flicker, and Sarra finds herself surrounded by an oozing claw that is much too similar to another goo thing that caused her quite a bit of terror. Her hammer shakes as she trembles a bit. She knows full well that in a direct fight she would be barely more than a speedbump for Rita.      And she is still unsure just how real or fake this simulation is. Is Rita being Ritescu or Rita right now? Does it even matter if she is indeed taking this simulation very seriously (which everyone in the simulation seems to be doing) ...would Rita actually try to kill her for this? Ritescu the servant of Queen Liliana certainly would, and Sarra has seen a bit of how absorbed Rita gets in a role during their time with Hikaru and Lala.      Sarra's eyes are wide as Rita approaches. Her teeth are clenched in worry. She can practically hear the mental cheers from a few of those here hoping that Rita would actually do it.      'I'm not stupid, Miss Princess. And I'm not your friend,'      "I...I did not say you were..." Sarra says, her worry increasing. Is this Rita saying that or Ritescu? How can she be sure?! "...however..." Sarra is very stubborn, even in the face of something like this. "...I -already- apologized -and- offered to help repair the damages." Sarra winces and instinctively crouches just a bit as that claw rakes along the wall behind her, closing in around her. "...as for the petals..." She hands over any she has. It is something she was going to do anyway, so there is no reason to be stubborn about that.      There is something else to be stubborn about, though. "...if we are not friends, then we must be enemies. And...if you know anything about me at all you must surely know that...I do not bow to my enemies, even when they level the most sincere threats at me. You have surely heard my exchanges with Lilian-...Liliana and Petra in the past. And, I am not sure I can even operate without causing some damage in here anyway. I use a giant hammer and explosives and fire and ice and many other things that cause damage. So...if we are going to do this then let us do this. If you are a servant of Liliana's who is this powerful it is likely we would have to face you to get to her anyway."      Sarra grips her hammer more tightly, trying to stop the shaking. It does not really work. "...s-so...while I appreciate your kindness so far in running that shop for us despite being our enemy, I cannot give more ground than I already have toward an enemy."      Expecting immediate reprisal, Sarra reaches up as if to brush her hair back...and touches the burgundy metal lotus pinned in her hair. Morphmetal flows over her body quickly, forming her into a living, gleaming rose gold Sarra statue. Sarra just hopes it is enough to survive whatever is about to happen!
Powerpuff Girls	"And... Um. What's the featherduster for?" With the absolute deadpan of someone who knows informing-without-correction someone who clearly doesn't know anything at all, Princess steps up to the plate for everyone everywhere. "It's for dusting." Princess simply states, as if that wasn't the most obvious part of a maid outfit. '... Is there a way to say that that doesn't sound suspicious?' "Well, I'm relying on you right now." Princess adds, stepping over to lean on the shop counter as... Events begin to progress. "But the way to say that without sounding suspicious is to just say 'you can rely on me', and mean it, without all the--" One of her hands comes up to gesture a loose circle. "Wrapping paper and crinkly shielding. If it's that precious, it's not solid enough to take an impact." Says the woman wearing a gold powersuit. "The wizard is right, say it with your whole chest. It only counts after." But Princess doesn't really like how far this is going. It's jovial and normal to punt a higly kickable imp once in a while, and sometimes when people are big and scary they're telling you many things in a language Princess Morbucks believes she speaks. Blossom moves from reacting to surprise, to a brief interlude of thinking Brick is being marvelously methodical with an approving half-cross of the arms and a smile, to a lingering sort of worry as she gauges Ritescu's response to Sarracenia... And a little bit of gauging on how she could help the wayward royal with her neck already grabbed. Turning off the shopcounter when Rita walks past her, Blossom gets to see the clawing, and hear the ultimatum. Looking towards Sarracenia, who seems very much to be the decider of her own fate (in the simulation (?)), Blossom gauges the value of a nod or a shake of the head as messaging and discards both. It was too complex. She had to believe in the princess' (not hers) ability to get herself away with this one. Perhaps, even, via apology. Morbucks is a little more agitated. 'I'm not stupid, Miss Princess. And I'm not your friend,' Princess Deliliah etcetera etcetera, first name Princess catches a stray bullet and scowls behind Rita, but of the many things that she's heard in her life -- she also is used to that one. A 'favorite' refrain that the tension in her jaw takes a moment of notice and focus to work out. 'Talking to the lady she's threatening, not me!' Princess promises herself, and shoves off. --- Past the area opened by Satsui's key, Princess is the first to arrive, once again expecting the usual from her ~~visual novel~~ highly cerebral theatrical drama pieces: Satsui right there, perhaps in casual clothes, or a long dark-toned dress with a glass of wine, to discuss over gentle barbs and amusements the--
Powerpuff Girls	Nope!!! It's just the help! "The metropolis of Los Angeles, in the govenorship of California, though I fight for my lady here--." Princess goes as far as to flourish faintly towards a slightly dazed Blossom, who frowns at Princess, smiles at the help, and remains lost. Blossom Utonium does not ask 'what are we doing here'. She's a strong and intelligent team leader who always has all the answers and that means she's supposed to know. It means she's weak to bits. "Lady Blossom, of the house of the Atom!" "Blossom Utonium." She corrects instantly. "Not 'atom'." Princess laughs knowingly. "But you are a lady, hmm?" "No argument. Ask Brick, even." Blossom fires back with a quirk of the brow. Princess recoils, defeated, and then searches the party with her head and eyes before asking the nearest member of the help: "So, where's the party?"
Odette Raskins	"Oh, it's not spicy today." "Not a fan of spicy food, Miss Blossom?" Odette asks with a curious tilt of her head, having to look up a moment later once she realizes she's still taller and semi-floaty. "Or is it a...? I've got a little thing of chewable antacids in here, too. Um. I-if you need them." At some point, Odette also remembers to actually follow suit and deposit petals for her purchases shortly after she sees Blossom doing so. "Oh hey, they stock 'find out' at this store too! Sometimes that runs cost-ly." Odette raises an eyebrow at Princess, then mouths 'find out?' quietly to herself several times while trying to puzzle out what else that could possibly mean besides... Well, find out. Clearly, the EMT hasn't heard of that particular piece of lingo nor the preceding piece. "I threatened to drown several petroleum company lobbyists and members of the United States House of Representatives for" "I have no reservations at all about" Odette slowly goes wide-eyed the more Brick speaks, but without the same level of innate spine-straightening secondary fear response she had watching Rita. He's reminding her of the Redshifts, but without even a helmet to keep any distance between what he's saying and who's listening. That connection is enough to get her rapt attention, though, and she has to specifically remind herself not to stare too much while he's still right there. "Is there a way to say that that doesn't sound suspicious?" "No. Therefore, say it, with your full chest and a smile." Thankfully, there's a distraction! Odette turns her head briefly to hide a snicker (badly), then turns back to Petra and shakes her head lightly. "N.. Not really, no. Mister Sougo's got the right idea, and... Yeah! And don't worry. I do trust you." She replies matter-of-factly, pauses, then frowns after a moment. "B... But just don't do the other thing Mister Brick said, either. There's people that'd be sad if you.. Um. Died, you know?" She didn't notice the puffing, but she'd probably still feel the same even if she did. "On that note... I recommend the locket. According to this book, it will be the more immediately useful between the two." "The book hasn't steered us wrong, so let's go with that." Odette says in agreement with Sougo, handing over her remaining petals to add to THE POOL. "If we can't open it, though, I guess... Um. M-maybe it'll open when the right thing happens, or the right person shows up?" She suggests, then taps her chin again. "Or maybe it's not supposed to open at all." "All these people drooled over Queen Lilian." "That suggests that a certain level of 'evil authority' can be..."" "They... Er. Wait. We did?" As always, Odette's clueless about at least some tastes, and she looks between Brick and Angela a few times before starting to connect a few dots. She could certainly see some reasons people would do so for the usual Lilian, but the evil one? Her gaze goes back over to Aidan and Sarracenia as she tries to parse more of what's been said long before, then- Rita's oil hands and the big claw -goes right back to staring at Rita in fearful wonder, almost/definitely more worried she'll miss a moment of whatever she's going to do to Aidan if she so much as blinks. She does finally remember to breathe again once Ritescu sets him down, though, but without any kind of relieved noise that would normally come from someone being scared of what could happen. And then the mood shifts. Still wide-eyed, Odette looks around a few times before looking back at Ritescu's goo-claw and Sarracenia again. She doesn't move from her spot as she keeps listening, just watching the two with barely a breath escaping her just so she can see and hear what goes next without any interruption. "or I will drink off all your flesh, and your friends will get back your bones." Somehow, people drooling over Evil Lilian still hasn't clicked for her even after that.
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan's ears are moving around. Picking up conversations. Taking in his failures. Saving them for later. Admitting to the fact that he wanted to be a hero for Quicknest without the responsibility doesn't seem conducive to anything here. Focus... Aidan has purpose. He has focus. He just needs ti- Sougo sighs. "He does." It's small but it does make Aidan square his shoulders the most imperceptible amount. "Queen Liliana is so generous, huh?" Both ears track backwards to where Petra is, then forwards again. A mental struggle on where to file that makes Aidan's record skip a beat. Surely she's just doing it to keep Rita from attack Sarracenia, right? That mental track pulls off Petra entirely as he watches the gooey coating slide forward. Aidan has never really seen Rita at full work. He's heard about it, seeing it a little bit, but watching the way she's able to shift her own mass. He watches it, enthralled and entranced as any squirrel in front of a massive predator might be. Right before his hind brain tells him to bite her as viciously as he can since he's already about to die. No, the moment of true fear is the second that Ritescu says 'Oh' and then doesn't let go for that long heartbeat. In that long heartbeat, Aidan's lips curl back, his fingers flex, white wind creeps from his mouth, and he prepares to fight his way to the end of his life. When he gets dropped back to the floor, Aidan is shaking from that last spike of adrenaline. He sways woozily on his feet for a moment, thinking the act over. Everything is about to go back to normal. "What's uh... library card?" He asks, trying to set his mind back on task. When Ritescu goes for Sarracenia, Aidan staggersprints over to her side. He stumbles, lurching to one side, then the other until he is standing straight up again, putting that sudden energy back into focus. He puts himself shoulder to shoulder with Sarracenia, "People don't have to be just friends or enemies, Sarra," he mutters towards her. "Everyone is not with you or against you." Sarracenia stances up to fight. Aidan puts a hand on her shoulder and leans in to whisper, "Sarra." He's almost ignoring Ritescu now, clearly speaking to Sarra OOC, like someone with a hand on their head in a LARP, "Sarra stop. There's people here who need saving, remember? The people she dragged in? The people she makes into knights? Which is more important. Standing up right this second, or swallowing it and saving people? If you beat her, then what? She'll stop giving us support." Aidan taps his head, whispering, "We can't keep being like this, Sarra. Not when there are innocent people on the line. People first."
Ivy Carrow	Ivy's smug affect dissolves into something else, as Rita's focus on Sarracenia redoubles. She scrambles through an internal list of vampire lore for reference but comes up empty, except for that glassy-eyed hunger of a predator staring at a piece of meat on the bone. Nina made a soft "eep!" Sliding behind Alex, holding her close while his face paled.     Meanwhile, a breathe escaped Ivy's lips. She clasped her hands together, raised just below her mouth. Her pupils went wide. Her breath came out in two unsteady pants. Her veins thrummed with the rapid pulse of dread and delight--     "Ivy." Alex's hand rested on her shoulders. "We should go."     Ivy's eyes flickered toward Alex, an irritated furrow in her brow...before she saw Nina, trembling. She released a put-upon sigh. "...Alright."     She expects resistance, as they enter the final area. Her sword is resting on her sword's hilt, her mouth pursed into a narrow line. Even the staggering beauty of the heights of the castle can only feather the displeasure on her face.     She--and the other two runners--practically jump out of her skin. Shock is written on all of their faces. But, at the opportunity to throw herself once more deep into the fiction, Ivy once more finds her smile, practically FLOUNCING into the room.     "Please don't hesitate to ask for anything you may need! Our primary residents are currently busy, but will be with you at their earliest convenience!"     "And what a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Ivy purred, with a sweeping bow. "Such hospitality, I've never seen! I do hope your Lady is proud~"     "May I ask which country you hail from? It'd help us tremendously to make you feel comfortable. We're familiar with all the usual customs."     "Castle Carrow, a faraway place, for certain. And these two are my subordinates and attendants." She offered them a cheerful wink. Ivy is accosted by requests for context--where are you from, what are you doing, who are you, threatening to unravel the ruse--but Ivy has always been a strong believer in improvising. "But I am more interested in YOURS. Show me, will you not?"     "Or is there urgent business regarding the Event? You may be just slightly too late to swear your support, seeing as the Queen has been terribly busy making the finishing preparations."     "Terrible!" Ivy bemoaned. If she asked questions, perhaps she could extract the Lore herself? "To think I've missed so much! Come, come! You must tell me everything!"
Rita Ma	"That's okay. I was going to let the others teach you your lesson, but if I have to, I have to." Ritescu is neither dissuaded nor incensed by Sarracenia's bravery. One more thing to check off the list before closing shop.      "The rest of you, move on. I like you. There's no reason you have to die too."      . . .      When everyone else has left the shop, Rit(escu?)'s gaze zip-zips between Metal Sarracenia and the door. She breathes out softly, a little 'whew'.      "Sorry, Ms. Sarracenia. It's hard being that scary. I was getting sort of self-conscious, and Odette was looking at me sort of weird, and..."      Perking back up. "Anyway! You can run away looking beaten-up, or we can just pretend you died. I guess you couldn't be in the simulation anymore then, though... oh, you have subordinates, right? You could send one of them to the other stuff. Like, determined to avenge you? I guess we could fight for real if you want, but I'm sort of tired."
Angela	Angela opens her mouth to tell Sarracenia that there are relationship levels between friend and enemy that 'not a friend' can occupy but thinks better of it and keeps her mouth shut. Mostly because talking to Sarracenia means an increased likelihood that Sarracenia would talk to her, but also because it doesn't really feel narratively appropriate. Hm. Narratively appropriate. Angela glances over to Petra as if she noticed the origin of a pathogen (positive) but she's still stuck in a video screen. "Thank you Ms. Ritescu! I'll be sure to getcha a fish! Or um. Something with this fishing rod...!" Cinder salutes and rushes off, forcing Angela to rush off with her. ''What's uh... library card?'' "Petra told me you sometimes act stupider than you are which is, for me, difficult to discern from your normal levels of stupidity,... But just in case you seriously, despite existing in the multiverse for far longer than I and certainly being more well traveled--a library card is what you use to check out books from a library. You ''borrow'' books from a library and then return them after a--Ah, Cinder, you are moving too fast I cannot finish explaining basic concepts to Aidan--" "Oops! Sorry Angela, but the simulation awaits!" ... Cinder is relieved at the break really. It feels like ages since they've started this adventure and no, she hasn't really checked into the lore much. She should've asked Ritescu more questions about the backstory! But she got distracted. By the... Cinder stares at it. The fishing rod. Okay, Cinder thinks, you have to make the most of this rod somehow. She doesn't evevn so much as see a fountain yet, nothing to use this fishing rod on. She knows FOR SURE from video games and adventures how important fishing mechanics are and by rod she's going to fish her way out of this one somehow. Cinder supposes there's no HARM in asking but... "Hey um." Cinder asks one of the maids, a little instinctively nervous since in her world every single maid or butler is kind of a retired badass super-skilled combat warrior. "I don't um. I don't want to be rude but um." She raises her fishing rod. "Is there uh. A place I can ... fish?" A pause. "It's for Miss Ritescu. She's been so nice I want to do something nice back..." ''Which country you hail from?'' "Um. My country is The City. Spelled T h e space C I T Y." Cinder manages. The Princess? "Um, how uh. Who is the Princess?" She asks. "Does the... Does the finishing preparations... Involve any fishing preparations?" "You are really committed to this," Angela says, deadpan. "It's ''gonna'' work." Cinder insists.
Sarracenia	Sarra prepares to face the full monstrous power of Ritescu/Rita. Aidan skids to her side, trying to convince Sarra to stop. She barely hears him. Her eyes are locked on Rita, who for all Sarra knows is about to actually try and kill her. Seems like everyone else who adores Lilian wants it, why did she believe that Rita did not harbor that desire somewhere in there? Did she let her guard down because Rita is nice and Xion is also nice and Xion did not try to kill Sarra?      'Sorry, Ms. Sarracenia. It's hard being that scary. I was getting sort of self-conscious, and Odette was looking at me sort of weird, and...'      Sarra tenses up, then just...slumps down on the floor, the metal flowing back up into the lotus. Her hammer falls from her grasp, and tears are already streaming down her face. She tries to keep from fully sobbing but is only half successful. "...oh my god...Miss Rita...thank goodness...I r-really did not want to fight you..." the princess struggles out between gasps and hiccups. "S-so...this really is all just a simulation. All of it? B-but it all s-seems so real!"      Sarra hugs her arms around herself, trembling. "...I...I really though...I mean, I know you could, so...b-but...I cannot back down..." She coughs back a sob. "I really am sorry for making any more work for you, Miss Rita. You always look tired when we see you here and it is surely in no small part thanks to me. And you have been one of the few people around Lilian to just treat me...normally..."      A few proper sobs escape, and her makeup gets smeared when she tries to wipe her tears with her gloves. It takes at least a minute for Sarra to fully gather herself up again and get back to her feet. "I...I have subordinates, but...none that are elite level who could take my place in a simulation like this. And...no heroes of my world would be willing to step in for me. Besides, if I died then...that terrible Rowdypuff boy or whatever he is would rub it in my face so much. I suppose..." She coughs again, still gathering herself and wiping at her eyes. "...I suppose I must take the 'beaten-up' route. Perhaps you should...damage my clothes somewhat and then throw me through into whatever area they are in now using those incredibly..." Sarra swallows. "...d-dangerous looking claws."      After saying all this, Sarra just...hugs Rita. Rather tightly. "Th-thank you for being...you, Miss Rita." she says, still a bit shaky. She lets go of Rita after probably too long of a hug for people who are really only co-workers if anything, then turns to Aidan. She starts to ask if he is alright, but her mouth only opens and closes as she realizes that might be insulting to Rita. So, instead she just...smiles a still sniffling smile at him. "You...stayed."
Timespace Riders	Ganjang gejang...     Sougo and Woz pitch in for food, after their share towards the locket.     "Ah! Salty!"     "Try it this way, sire."     "Oh, wow... you're right, that's really good. Hey, thanks, Ms. Ritescu. This is just what we needed after all that... walking." I am sorry, Sougo, I will have to call you Sougo until the mission is complete.     "Haha! Sure, no problem, Angela."     Having a little laugh like that helps to relieve the tension, just for a moment. The food, salty as it is, is perfectly paired with refreshments to get a little energy back up after the exhausting previous segments. And then... Apologize, change, and give me your petals, or I will drink off all your flesh, and your friends will get back your bones.     Sougo frowns. *This sucks. I really wish she hadn't said that... But I gave her an out, anyway. I can't make her take it. I can't make anyone do anything. What I can do is...*     "Apologizing... Well, that's easy enough, and you don't really need us here for that, right, Princess?" Sougo says. "We'll go on ahead while you make up." He, and Woz, are gone before Ritescu asks them to be, much less before Sarracenia gives her answer.
Timespace Riders	"I am surprised, sire," says Woz, clearly as pleased as he is surprised. "I half expected you would remain behind, or else offer honeyed words to tempt Sarracenia towards the correct path."     "She admitted to the royal consigner that she was here to fight the Queen. I wish she hadn't said that, but she did. We can't afford to pick fights carelessly when everyone here is so strong and fighting for and *from* home," Sougo replies.     "We're lucky that an apology and her petals are all Ms. Ritescu wanted from her. The less people she thinks she has to back her up, the more attractive just paying up will seem." He sighs. "I hope, anyway."     "And if not?"     "I don't know. Maybe she'll be more careful about what she says in the future."     Neither of them are there to see what actually happens. Please don't hesitate to ask for anything you may need!     Woz bows at the waist to the maids and butlers, with fervent purpose that might suggest he, too, were programmed, if not for the utter lack of any such gleam in his eyes. "You honor us greatly with this hospitality. We shall be delighted to sample it, as offered and curated by those as diligent and talented as yourselves."     "Um, Woz," Sougo quietly asides, allowing a butler to take his grey cardigan, "I think they're... you know, under control..."     "I am well aware, sire. I simply will not be disrespectful towards waitstaff--especially those who are compelled by force to do so."     Do you wish to relax in...     "Could you show us to the conservatory, please?" May I ask which country you hail from?     "Um..." The technically correct answer to that question, for himself, is 'Japan.' But one day, he's going to be the King of Time, right? As Tamamo once put it, that's more a direction than a country. He glances towards Woz with a little 'any ideas' sort of smile.     "We come from across time and space," answers Woz. "Therefore, whatever has graced the annals of one or the reaches of another, we shall be delighted to have. Thank you," he says, hand over heart with another small bow, "For your consideration."
Rowdyruff Boys	//... Is there a way to say that that doesn't sound suspicious?// "I've found," Brick says, "that not doing the thing being talked about usually just works out if there are any real doubts instead of minor criticisms.. And if I'm sorting some of these bozos as any kind of liability for their vocal horniness you definitely count, too. Like I said to the Warprunners, it's not something you need to take in the worst possible way." //Mostly just the second one at this point, by the way....// "Congratulations, he replies, a little dully but definitely not insincerely." //Oh. Horticulture. Bugs. Romance stories. But that isn't the point.// Brick heaves a sigh, runs a hand through his hair, and nods. "My curiosity is related to the ongoing dispute only because it's topical. I'm not offering to bribe you." //They... Er. Wait. We did?// "That's another dose of liability." //Only after the evil Queen Lilian? As opposed to just normal Lilian? That suggests that a certain level of 'evil authority' can be...// "Yep," He affirms, simply. This acknowledgment calms him down a little bit from visibly losing his patience with the ongoing situation. But... //I cannot give more ground than I already have toward an enemy.// Boomer's head twitches faintly in Brick's direction. He raises a hand, "Um, actually, that's sorta not the kinda stance that works out...? Your ability to force your way just isn't high enough to have it the way you want to have it. I don't really 'get' everything that's going on, but it seems to me like you got in trouble for doing a specific thing you were signposted not to do? Brick's not really one to indulge the 'hero' thing, but if you're just going to make a mess of everything for personal reasons because you don't like whoever is around, then..." It's at this point that Brick just drifts on after Blossom. He's actually surly and unresponsive until prompted again by a combination of Princess and Blossom, at which point whatever he was keeping to a simmer bubbles up: "There is no form of address imagined by humans or other intelligent beings that adequately captures what Blossom Utonium is. 'Lady Utonium' is as acceptable as she feels it is, which she does because she's nice, but the intent behind the address is the perpetual stew of the entire idea space." He's so sulky he doesn't introduce himself, evidently comfortable being taken as entourage or attendant.
Petra Soroka	"Well, I'm relying on you right now."     There's no easier way to get Petra to puff up proudly and restore her confidence than that. The series of magic words is almost comically simple for the effect on her that it has, eyes closed and proud breath huffing. She crosses her legs over each other, leaning back in her chair because she's soooooo casual and reliable.     "Well, you're right. So I mean it. I *am* totally reliable, and you *can* count on me." "B... But just don't do the other thing Mister Brick said, either. There's people that'd be sad if you.. Um. Died, you know?"     Petra groans and rubs her palm over her face, remembering the conversation with Odette in the radio earlier. No one knows how to take a suicide joke without getting all *touchy-feely* about it! Just because she's tried to commit suicide a few times, and talks about wanting to all the time!     "God, don't patronize me. I know. I got it. I'm not planning on leaping off the castle roof, thank you."     When served, Petra gives Rita's helpful merchant clawed goo-hand a stunned little shake, putting two of her fingers politely in its palm as thanks for her soup. This is, of course, just part of the simulation. It's like... vampire powers, sort of. 'Creature of the night'-type powers, at least, which fits in theme, and it's normal. And the hands are being so nice to her! Maybe they're silly little muppets and Petra just can't see the people controlling them.     Everything that's going on with Sarracenia is normal too. It doesn't even warrant Petra looking over in that direction, even though she was so excited to see Rita strangling Aidan earlier. Petra calmly sips spoonfuls of soup while Sarracenia either begs for her life or is stripped down to the bone, kicking her feet idly in the chair while watching Cinder goof around with the fishing pole.     When that business is over, Petra diligently cleans up her dishes-- along with everyone else's-- and returns the tupperware to the counter so that there's minimal mess besides possibly gallons of princess viscera. "Um, thanks for taking good care of us, Ritescu."     And then, moving on! Even before seeing the maids, Petra understands that there will be maids in this section of the castle. Intuitively, Petra's association the moment she sees the furniture and the framing, is that this is the cozy, homey area, treated more gently than the armies, traps, and lieutenants that stocked the lower levels. This sense is honed by spending a lot of time in Lilian's actual manor, but because of that, the knowledge that this is *not* actually Lilian's manor makes her sense of danger spike even higher despite the lack of enemies. Because that means...     Petra warns the group quietly before the maids start to greet them, "... Whatever defenses Queen Liliana's got on this floor, they're going to be *serious*. Don't fuck around and provoke anything. Play along with whatever happens. I don't know what it is, but I know definitely that it'll wreck your ass." "Welcome, honoured guests!"     Petra is all smiles to the maids, but her eyes do catch on the glint of mind control. After returning their greetings and moving just out of earshot, Petra murmurs aside to Cinder, "Shame this isn't an environment thing like Nihil... I can't pull the same thing I did back then with you. I wish we had Tamamo, but... well.... Anyways."
Petra Soroka	Without thinking, Petra does hand off her bomber jacket to the butlers. It's convenient in every literal sense-- her slutty Castlevania cosplay ruffles look a lot better when she doesn't have her comfort jacket tossed on over it, and if she needs to do a quick fit change, it's better to not have the bulkiest piece slowing her down. However... once the butler carrying it rounds the corner, Petra realizes that she has no idea how she'll ever get it back again. They're not actual guests, after all, and the treatment the staff is giving them is necessarily temporary, and the castle is large enough that she'll have no idea where it's stored.     ... Surely Lilian would... give her ratty men's bomber jacket back to her after the simulation is over, right? It's a simulation. It's not for keeps. ... Right?     At least Petra looks nicer now, in her silly little period appropriate suit, with Qetra in the reflections in the stained glass windows wearing the maid outfit. She has a lot to say to the maids, too. Assessing things from Lilian's perspective, Petra tries to figure out which rooms are most likely to have relevant plot information in them. If it were *Petra*, the theatre would definitely be important, but for Lilian, it feels more likely that the conservatory and parlour are good options.     Before asking her own questions, Petra suggests to Cinder, "Queen Liliana's the type who might have a pond in her conservatory. It might be a little rude to fish in it if it's small, but... I mean, the fishing rod was there for a reason."     Then to the maids, "Hi, I was wondering if I could pass the time until Queen Liliana's no longer occupied by chatting with some of her other guests? Or, maybe, could you point me to where the parlor is?"     Slipping into the ranks of the maids is an option Petra has to be considering, but there's no point to it before gathering more context. Who else is here, and how are they being treated? Are there maids going in and out of the restricted areas? Petra is, osmotically, aware that they're the lifeblood of the household-- cancer cells get singled out and destroyed if they don't fit in well enough at first. "May I ask which country you hail from?"     She's also just getting into the LARP, though. "Um... I'm from..." A hard question in the best of times, made paradoxically easier and harder by not knowing the lore of the world. Relative directions are a shot in the dark, but mirroring how Aria talked, she settles on, "I'm from the south. But, um, I'd be most comfortable being treated in the way that's most natural for Queen Liliana's household, anyways."     "As for... *the* princess," Petra emphasizes softly to make sure it's obvious she's not referring to firstnameprincess or Sundew. "Is she busy with the Queen for the event? Or has she gotten, um, indisposed for another reason?"
Aidan Proudpick	It really hadn't occured to Aidan to find a public library. He gets most of his books from discount stores! When Rita comes out of character, Aidan throws himself up against a wall, legs wobbling with the whiplash. Her moving RIGHT BACK to Big Sister Rita mode makes all that adrenaline rush out of him again and put a quiver in his legs. A brief thought of Odette getting bitten by razor sharp teeth to maybe put the fear of Rita in her. But that's way too mean. And gross for Rita. Aidan, who wears eyeliner and mascara himself, because if he's going to wear a full breastplate to keep from getting stabbed in the stomach, he's gonna double down somewhere else, pulls out a few makeup wipes to hand over to Sarracenia. "Sarra," he says softly, "Brick is right. About me. Or at least how I felt before. And he ain't just trying to make you feel bad. For him, I think he's just saying things that he sees. Not because he hates you in particular. No one spends all that time telling someone that kinda stuff just to make them feel bad. And you gotta think about if what Brick said is right. Or how much is right. And what yer gonna do about it." He reaches out to grip her shoulder, then pull her into a side hug. "If I don't stand shoulder to shoulder with my friend, what am I worth?" He pulls out a knife and leans over, putting it to his arm where he can slice himself convincingly. It presses up to his skin, about to draw blood. Aidan's squirrel brain starts screaming at him how terrible an idea that is next to Rita. He backs off slowly with the knife, folding it and putting it away. "We'll do the slices on our way up, I got some bandages, that sound good?"
Rita Ma	Rita seems vaguely displeased, but in a gently-social way, not a scary-monster way. The creepy oil ribbons squish back up her sleeve, and after the hugs, she moves to fetch some water, crab snacks, and napkins-for-tissues for Sarracenia, while looking to Aidan for emotional guidance- he knows her better, doesn't he?      "Mmm. But you knew 'Ritescu' was Rita, right? And I don't dislike you. Of course I wouldn't kill you or anything," she mumble-murmurs. "I'm sorry I was a little too scary, but I think it's pretty clear I wouldn't murder you?"      After foisting comforting refreshments on Sarracenia, she gets back down to business, sitting behind her counter and thinking glumly. She tenses when it looks like Aidan's about to cut himself, then relaxes when he puts the knife away, with a grateful smile.      "... If you fought my character right now, she'd just 'kill' you both. You can try to escape from me- honestly, I'm pretty fast- but my character wouldn't just defeat you, then leave you alive."      She taps her cheek with a finger, puffing out her cheeks with an unpleasant breath. "There's no rule that says heroes have to make it to the end. You made the choices that say 'death'. And so the people who depended on you just have to do without you."      Rita- definitely not Ritescu- shrugs lamely. "So, that's it. You're 'dead', or you can try to prove you wouldn't 'die'. But we know how that would probably go."
Odette Raskins	"That's another dose of liability." Odette looks like she's been shot right through the heart, but not for that long. "Ergh... R-right. Sorry, Mister Brick. I-I'll do better." She'll just have to prove herself in the next area. "It's for dusting." "Ohhh. That..." Odette pauses, then nods once. "Yeah, that makes sense. Must be real useful, especially for a place as big as this. W-wait, does that mean I'll have to clean to maintain the cover?" She tugs on her disguise's featherduster a few times, just in case there's a hidden sword in there or something. After scooting out of the store once Rita makes it clear this could become an unnecessary battle, Odette's face to face with the grand gate! She watches in yet more awe at the clockwork theatre, visibly enthralled by the sheer amount of stuff moving about. It might not be necessary for such a door, but she's certainly not going to NOT watch, after someone put all that work into making it all fit together just right. The gorgeous warmth of what feels like the highest point yet in the grand structure practically takes Odette's breath away, too, even as she feels a familiar-ish shift of weight in those areas. She has to remind herself not to get too comfortable every now and then, but the fact that there aren't any fights forthcoming is both relieving and frightening the further the group moves along. "It's kind of w... No, wait. No, it's not weird at all." She starts, then corrects herself before even finishing that thought. "With how nice this place is, having a fight here would really be a shame. I-I mean, just look at these carpets, and the walls, and the..." She looks down at her boots, suddenly feeling much more self-conscious about dragging dirt in. The purpose of the maid disguise suddenly becomes clear once Odette sees the ranks of maids and butlers, and she tenses up at first when she sees them approaching. She doesn't see any of them drawing hidden weapons or getting ready to beat the crap out of everyone, though, and they're even... Welcoming everyone? "Eh? Oh! Th-thank you for the warm welcome!" She greets/blurts out, straightening up a bit to give the maids a polite curtsey of her own reflexively. Odette listens closely and studies their mannerisms as best she can while they explain things, trying not to raise an eyebrow too much at 'primary residents' or the gleam in their eyes. It takes her a moment to connect that gleam to what she saw in the village long ago (especially with that one guy), but there's not much she can do about that just yet. Despite gawking at the butlers that offer to take her jacket, Odette holds onto her extra layer of storage space ("I-I get cold easily, but thank you for offering") while also taking the opportunity to both ask about the offered services and locations while also working the staff's questions in as well: "Could I get a.. Um. Room, actually? The trip here from C-" Wait. Would they react badly if she gave them a station name instead of a country? What about a colony? Does a planet count as a country? "-Saturn was pretty rough. I-if not for that, I might have shown up in time for the.. Um. Event." She feigns a look of disappointment, then chuckles in the way that someone that's inwardly sad about missing the bus while also trying not to look too torn up would. "How did that go, anyway? Um. Does the Queen need help with those preparations?" Odette asks, just playing along with no idea what either of these things actually mean. She's just banking on being able to get SOME information out of all this, and a place to change into the maid disguise once nobody's looking.
Sarracenia	'Boomer's head twitches faintly in Brick's direction. He raises a hand,'      'And you gotta think about if what Brick said is right. Or how much is right. And what yer gonna do about it.'      After things have de-escalated and she has been plied with snacks and napkins and makeup wipes, Sarra's expression is solemn.      'But you knew 'Ritescu' was Rita, right? And I don't dislike you.'      Sarra winces a bit at that, then listens to the rest. "You have nothing to apologize for, Miss Rita. Though...I am sorry but...it is a relief to hear that you do not dislike me. I hope you can forgive me for...having doubts. I hear people whom you are close to tell me to die or that they will kill me on a regular basis. I did not believe you would kill me, but...I also did not believe that Lilian would..." Sarra trails off, not wanting to speak ill of someone Rita likes in front of Rita. That is how she got to where she is with Angela, after all. "...I...made the choices that say 'death'...and now people who depended on me..."      Sarra tears up again. "I do not know which is worse. That this could result in failing the simulation, or...that they likely would not even need my help and might be glad I was gone."      Aidan pulls out a knife. Sarra backs away a bit. "You want us to...?!" she starts, then sighs heavily before looking at Rita. "...we know how that would probably go, but...I...have to try. I cannot simply give up. If I did that now that would be even worse than whatever has happened so far."      She looks to Aidan, then to Rita. "I am sorry, Miss Rita, but I am afraid we must fight. If I cannot give my all here, then how would I be able to give my all if this really were real? If...Merelisa were to reappear in the City, or some similar-level incident were to occur?"      Sarra smiles apologetically. "I will treat you to the most luxurious spa day or...or something once we are done with all of this."      She looks to Aidan after that. "If Brick is right about me - which he is not - I suppose I will just have to improve."
Rita Ma	Rita's lower lip pushes up a little further. Not unhappy- or at least not severely so- but pouty. "I don't think Ms. Rook wants to kill you for real. She just says that when she gets really unhappy with someone, right?"      "And... well... I don't want to rub it in, but if you want to be a credit to your teammates, you could try being less prideful, Ms. Sarracenia. I don't think 'Ritescu' is being very reasonable... but the best thing to do was to not make those 'death' choices, right?"      Sarra chooses violence! Rita looks at Aidan for long enough to see if he'll stand with her, then nods tiredly and slides over the counter on her butt. "Okay. We'll prove that you're 'dead' then."      "I promise that I won't kill you for real, but this isn't the Shrine of Adversity. It's probably going to hurt a lot. I'm sorry."      They don't see what snuffs out the lanterns around the shop.      In the perfect darkness, Ritescu's eyes glow red.      There's that wet slithering noise all around. Sarra and Aidan don't see what reaches out and wraps around their necks again, slamming them against opposite stone walls of the store with their feet off the floor. But they feel it: cold, goopy, clammy, strong. It starts to squeeze.
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan finds himself a seat. He hands crab treats over to Sarracenia as each one comes, smiling at Rita. "I got my own," he takes a moment to pull out a bag of nuts and try, for one second, to relax. "I do not know which is worse." "Sarra," Aidan whispers, "that's not the worst thing. What if someone died helping me in the kitchen? Just because I wanted to save Kale by doing something stupid?" "Okay. We'll prove that you're 'dead' then." He hoists himself up from the chair, putting away his snacks, his drink of water, tossing his bag to the corner and dragging up his shield. There's a nod towards Rita and her explanation. And a look of Aidan realizing he's standing in front of the gallows. A big smile on his face. If he's going to go down, he's going to go down for a reason. "She made her choice, and I made mine. We are gonna stand here, shoulder to shoulder. Any danger I get into, she's gonna come. And any danger she gets into, I'm gonna come." "Could you just... not go for the lungs, please? It takes a long time to heal." Goop slips up and underneath Aidan. Aidan sucks in a breath before it grabs at him, pulling at the goop suddenly clinging to his neck. He feels the throat guard whine as the powerful strands bend it. His fingers feel like they could shatter from the STRENGTH that just those 'tentacles' can suddenly put out. His shoulders and neck and fingers creak dangerously as he tries to keep them from putting him down into a useless state almost immediately. Blessed air flows down his throat, and comes up with a sudden white string of air. He bites down on his lip and makes quick 'fft fft fft' noises, the wind traveling across the space in darts.
Lilian Rook	'The metropolis of Los Angeles, in the govenorship of California'     'Castle Carrow, a faraway place, for certain.'     'Um. My country is The City. Spelled T h e space C I T Y.'     'Saturn was pretty rough.'     The butler frowns. Gently, granted, but they aren't normally supposed to do that, right? "I see. You must have had a wearying journey." he says, with immaculate professionalism; at least the romanticized way that Lilian imagines it. "If you would like to sample our hospitality . . ." he begins, by which he means 'the party' as well, "Then please, do come with me." Bowing gracefully, he leads Princess (and potentially Blossom), Ivy & co. and Odette, down one hall, towards the Lounge.     'Um, how uh. Who is the Princess?'     "Oh dear. You must indeed be in need of a room." he says, clapping white-gloved hands to summon a maid who immediately cursies and scurries off to a nearby Bedroom, menacingly.     'We shall be delighted to sample it, as offered and curated by those as diligent and talented as yourselves.'     'Could you show us to the conservatory, please?'     ' A place I can ... fish?'     A maid left in charge by chain of command settles with a tiny sigh of relief in contrast to the butler. There's the sense that these are exactly as expected, even if they sort of dodged the original question. "Right this way." she gestures, waiting for Cinder, Sougo, and Woz to go on ahead before catching up to lead them to the Conservatory in another direction.     'Hi, I was wondering if I could pass the time until Queen Liliana's no longer occupied by chatting with some of her other guests? Or, maybe, could you point me to where the parlor is?'     'I'm from the south.'     "Oh, you must be . . ." The last remaining maid's attention drifts to Blossom and Brick, vaguely putting two plus two together, but leaving the polite trail-off to confirm or deny whatever she's thinking. "Our lady the Queen has bade us explicitly to provide warm hospitality to those she plans to establish relations with in future. If you're happy to wait in the parlour, I'm certain someone will come shortly!" This group of Petra and potentials is split off thusly to the Parlour.     'Is she busy with the Queen for the event? Or has she gotten, um, indisposed for another reason?'     "The Princess is tired~" the maid says, cheerfully. "It would be good to let her rest at this time. She has a fragile constitution."     'How did that go, anyway? Um. Does the Queen need help with those preparations?'     "Thank you very much for the offer, but I do not believe she does." the butler says, primly.
Lilian Rook	LOUNGE:     Past a laundry room clearly sized for a great many occupants, bustling with activity around charmingly old-fashioned cleaning apparati, the Lounge group is settled into a room filled with sofas that may as well be bed, sized for three at a time to pose for a painting. There are, in fact, paintings all over the walls, though not of that. With the thick curtains drawn over the windows, the roaring fireplace makes the entire atmosphere of the place perfect, illustrating by shadows the foreign relics from faraway lands in their cases, the hunting trophies of exotic beasts on the walls, and the the various swords mounted in place.     They're the first to know something about the local company. A man in a ruffled shit and vest is passed out on a love seat near three empty glasses of wine, his double-breasted coat hung over one corner. A pair of women hang on the two arms of the seat, dressed in gothic silk and heels chic, excitedly gossiping to each other, and standing out for their curved horns and slitted eyes, demonic tails swishing like excited cats. Two more in the room, entertaining themselves with a crystal chess set and the remaining alcohol, turn in unison at the new entries.     The butler excuses himself politely, and a maid comes in with a tea tray right after, loaded with snacks and beverages. She hasn't even left before the whole pack of demons (they have to be actors, right? it's so obvious are practically crawling over the new entrants like overexcited cabaret girls on their first shift. In the blink of an eye, they're being poured wine, cuddled up to, asked all about their exotic homelands that they've never heard of, gushing about how perfect everything is here and how they can stay as long as they want, laughing at every joke, hanging on every story, and clinging to your arms.     That's normal. Nobody is getting their bones jumped. It's just vaguely evil and decadent, down to the scented candles. Except the part where every time they tell you to relax, encourage you to tell them more, suggest that you stay a little longer, and ask if you plan to stay, it isn't a question. The fact that they're beautiful goes without saying. The problem is that they're acting without stage direction, questions only eventually turning to what your plans are, how many friends you have, and how you were so brave and strong that you beat the General.     CONSERVATORY:     The route here is longer. They pass by an indoor gymnasium of the sort found at old-money ancient private schools, and an indoor pool behind fogged glass. Eventually, they arrive at the place that necessarily had to be on the top floor; a shockingly large chamber where the crystal ceiling opens up to the natural sunlight, beaming through so clearly it almost hurts your eyes. Stone paths wind lackadaisically through what amounts to an indoor slice of forest, bigger than the average suburban housing block, alternating cozy shade and bright sun. The 'pond' in the middle is as large as the sort that cities use for storage, and obviously has live fish! Who would skimp on that detail?!     Most of the company here are the small fleet of gardeners 'hired' to take care of things. What's shocking to see is Elena and Hafren, reclined on a bench by the pond, talking to each other, and startling quite abruptly to see you, standing up as if to leave in a hurry. "What do you want?" "Shouldn't you be rampaging at the next person to beat up?"     The maid laughs softly, and says "Good lady Elena, lady Hafren, please get along with the other guests of the Queen. I'm certain she will look upon your request favourably very soon, so try to stay out of trouble." before walking away, blissfully untroubled.
Sarracenia	'I don't think Ms. Rook wants to kill you for real. She just says that when she gets really unhappy with someone, right?'      Sarra mmphs softly at that. "I am glad you have so much faith in her, Miss Rita. But...she has proved to me that she wants me hurt at the very least. I...do not think I have ever threatened her. I do not understand how I have earned that level of ire from her."      'I promise that I won't kill you for real, but this isn't the Shrine of Adversity. It's probably going to hurt a lot. I'm sorry.'      "It is alright, Miss Rita. As you said, I made those choices. As a multiversal elite, I have to be able to back them up or..."      The lights go out, except for Ritescu's eyes. That is pretty scary. That slimy slithering noise is also unnerving. Sarra is grabbed around the neck, but this time it is a real choke hold unlike when Rita was holding Aidan.      Sarra swings her hammer at the tentacle holding her, just trying to break the hold. And failing. "Nnng...n-not a good start!" Sarra rasps out, one hand tugging on the part of the tendril gripping at her neck while she keeps swinging.      'Sarra, that's not the worst thing. What if someone died helping me in the kitchen? Just because I wanted to save Kale by doing something stupid?'      Sarra gasps out, "W-well...I hope you can forgive me for...for this rather...foolish thing. Especially if we both 'die'!" she says to Aidan, then grunts out to Rita. "It...might have been the best thing to not make those choices. I suppose we will see for sure after this."
Lilian Rook	PARLOUR:     The parlour is distinct from the lounge. You wouldn't get it. The butler totally did, which is why the people who gave sussy answers went over there and Petra plus at least one and maybe three are guided this way. It is differentiated by open (coloured and glowing) windows, a number of singular high-backed and ridiculous soft chairs, close tables with space given to a guest book, several maps, a mixed drink set, clear ashtrays, an actual abacus, scale, globe, pens and ink, glasses, a knife(?!), potpurri, and so on. There are coat racks and boot shelves for urgent travellers, corner boths of a sort, and a sort of free-use minibar; tavern-style.     The number of foreign trinkets, artworks, and various swords is not lower. Most are very beat up. The top item on the table is a sheaf of complicated star charts, drawn all over in bright scarlet pen. It's somewhat uncomfortably warm, for difficult to discern reasons. A group of maids, hurriedly cleaning furniture, duck out apologetically.     A full suit of armour-- not animate, but belonging to the black knights you'd seen in town, stands ominously in one corner. A rough granite statue of an indistinct, weather-worn feminine figure standing atop something irregular-shaped and holding a sword is in the opposite. A grandfather clock ticks away in the third. And in the fourth, General Satsui, sans fullplate, hair down, in a casual lounge dress, has her feet kicked up and a rather large sake bottle on the table near her, pausing with the old-style dish in her fingers at your entry.     A group of demons are here too, but caught lounging around like sleepy cats, dressed down for the warmth and humidity in this specific room. It seems like they might have been drinking with the General? And discussing something? There are weapons and outerwear on the racks that aren't hers. But the way they turn in unison to look hungrily at the entrants is nakedly unmistakable.     "Huh? You?" says Satsui, putting down her feet and coughing throatily, then dropping her voice a half-octave on purpose. "I see. You have finally understood how misplaced your ambitions are, and come to negotiate." is followed by a chesty laugh. "Good! Good. This, too, is enlightenment. Come and sit. We will discuss the things to come."     The demons are quick to figure out that Petra is the horny liability in the room, but don't blanch at clustering around anyone else available. The secondary threat is the fact that Satsui is present, can arm herself very quickly, and is only somewhat injured after the last battle, given extensive healing later.     "These southmen have accepted their place in the grand design, and look at them! Uplifted from breaking their backs raking dirt and shivering around fires in the winter . . . Content, at peace, sheltered and safe, and part of something much greater than themselves. Even if they can only be pawns, not players, they are the worthy who will journey with us to that final place!"     Yeah, she's right back into it.
Rita Ma	Not only is the shop almost completely dark, you aren't free to move, while Ritescu very much is. Even if you're aiming at her- which you might not be- and even if she can't dodge- which she usually can- she can just whip you around by the neck with a goopy tentacle to force you to miss.      After jerking Aidan around and ducking under Sarracenia's hammer-swing, the red-eyed being in the dark seems to think she's seen enough.      "Don't worry. I hear the Paladins have really good doctors," Rita says to Aidan.      "You're done for," Ritescu says to them both. (It's in the tone: Ritescu is lifelessly demure.)      With that, they both get ragdoll-hurled against the shop's back wall; she doesn't want to even afford them the luxury of an easy-to-swing-at choking tentacle. It's followed a split-second later by a dozen stabbing tentacles all slamming into the stone to try to impale, then slicing like the entire shop's the interior of a blender.      Thankfully, there's light a second later.      Unthankfully, it's Ritescu charging up one of her bio-energy beams.      Her palm glows like the filament of a lightbulb; now that they're hemmed in, midair, just post-grapple, with the demand of dodging six spearing-and-slashing attacks each in perfect darkness that could each kill an ordinary person, they're faced with the impossible task together of evading a near-point-blank pulverizing-concussive beam of light as wide as a man is tall.      Rita is not going easy, good lord. Maybe one of them can shield the other with their body.
Timespace Riders	What do you want?     "Oh, hi!" Sougo offers brightly, even going so far as to offer a wave. "We're just taking a look around! I hope we weren't interrupting." Shouldn't you be rampaging at the next person to beat up?     "Shouldn't you be saving your middling repartee," begins Woz dismissively, his glance flicking briefly away, "For someone closer to your level of skill? It will be years before you can reach me in that regard."     After a cross look from Sougo, he reigns himself in, with that usual displeased pursed-lip expression. "It is, of course, as my Demon King said. We are here with intentions as peaceful as our circumstances will allow." He nods cordially in their direction.     "There is no need to leave on our behalf, unless the prospect of our company is truly so unappealing."     "Actually," says Sougo, "It'd be good to get a read on you two without the rest of those guys... well, rampaging. That's not really our style, it's especially not Angela's, and I don't think it's really Cinder's, either. Right?" He brightens, after a thoughtful pause where he thinks up what to ask (and allows Cinder to confirm that she's not much of a rampager). The 'request' is what comes to mind first, but...      "How did you end up here? I mean, um, 'here' like 'with the Queen.'"
Ivy Carrow	"Captain, we need to be cautious--"     "Oh come now," Ivy chided, waving her Vice-Captain off. "It's like you don't trust me." She waved her Vice-Captain off, guided slowly by the maids into the lounge. "Go somewhere else. I can do THIS by myself, can't I?"     She never had a chance.     One of her arms is coiled around a handsome infernal gentleman, another a young woman. "And that was how I met my teacher!" She grinned. "At least in the sword. Everything else...Well, it's all in the blood, you see?" A wink. "I have a whole branch of the Warprunners back home--"     Again and again, they bring the conversation back toward the immediate issues, here. The other elites. Her first impulse is to talk about her men, her runners, with a slight grimace at something she couldn't quite articulate ever time it came back toward the elites. There was something she was forgetting. Something that'd slipped her mind. She furrowed her brow. "Well." She mused. "I might not have been there, but I think the most involved--"     Oh. God. Somebody stop her. She's going to tell them EVERYTHING.
Rowdyruff Boys	Boomer doesn't stick around to see the rest of the situation with Sarracenia and Aidan. He's not uninterested, but apparently his instinct to stack up close to Brick is strong. That might explain some things about them, overall, at least when they're together like this. He's keeping his distance, though-- he's obviously a 'part of the same group' that Blossom and Brick are, but he's also obviously kinda doing his own thing. It would look like kind of pathetic third wheeling, if not for the fact that he obviously knows when and why to cooperate as-before. Brick doesn't acknowledge any more of the Odette spaghetti-spilling, either deciding that no further points can reasonably be deducated, or that he doesn't want to increase his blood pressure by focusing on it. The one thing that he does end up focusing on, strangely... //I mean, the fishing rod was there for a reason.// "Minigame, probably to either summon a bonus boss or to open a portal of some kind -- could just be a door -- somewhere seemingly unrelated," he answers, flat-voiced, as if this is Simply A Given. //It would be good to let her rest at this time. She has a fragile constitution.// "Ever seen the Sherlock Holmes stage play?" He asks the maid, having otherwise glossed over being folded into the 'establish friendly relations' pile. They're funneled towards the parlour, which Brick doesn't seem inclined to disagree with. The demons makes his expression sour visibly, though. "There's no need to part from the General on our account," Brick says, his voice momentarily adopting a curious sweetness. It's not a suggestion; he's been wondering how actively Lilian needs to influence the minds of the people here, and this feels like a good enough opportunity to test it. By making the 'parlour' an incredibly boring place for everybody except the person who was already here. "That's kinda mean..." Boomer comments. Brick shrugs theatrically.
Angela	''Queen Liliana's the type to have a pond...'' "...Yeah I guess it would be a little rude, but it'd be ''even ruder'' to just assume the rod's gonna be useless, right?" She bobs her head excitedly. "Mhm mhm! You get it!" She heads off towards the Conservatory! With Sougo and Woz, unexpectedly. But she's gonna DO HER PART. Cinder's eyes light up when she sees the pond. "Thank you so much...!" It isn't really uncommon or weird for Fixers to be like this--or even Agents. The one big advantage, if you can call it that, that people from The City have is that they actually have seen a lot of weird awful shit and they can be polite to anything and anyone. Sometimes just a polite handshake to the tyrant, the monster, the whatever--can deter a lot of personal problems. But in this case, Cinder has been wholly consumed by the fishing rod. She has to trust in this because she spent one whole L on it. She doesn't know exactly how it'll work out, but she believes. And if you believe, you can make anything happen! ''Shouldn't you be rampaging at the next person to beat up?'' "Oh if that's my job, sure, but right now my job is..." She holds up the fishing pole as if by way of explanation. "I do not know why we are fishing." Angela adds, still stuck to Cinder as she's the one carrying her around today. "I feel like there's so much more going on than we actually ended up finding out about," Cinder adds. " "Cinder, it's important to pay attention to the lore. Otherwise you could make erroneous actions." Angela sighs before looking to the maids. "Technically I am not part of this exercise, but there was a spike in Cinder's vitals so I had come to ... ensure that I had not lost an employee." "You can say you were just checking up on a friend..." Cinder adds but clearly seems to get Angela just can't do that. She takes a breath and makes her way to the pond, setting the fanciest looking bait and rears back with her fishing rod before casting out the line! F I S H I N G     ( * )      T I M E Hit X to Cast, Hit O and the Direction Keys to Reel In! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   POW!                  /                     |  | ><(((('>        u                      |  |                 <')))><                |--|           ><(('>                       |--|      ><((((((('>                       |--|                                        |--| SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS   |--| Cinder bites her lip in deep concentration as she waits for a tug.
Odette Raskins	"Wearying? A-ah, well. It..." Oh, now Odette kind of feels bad about lying to the butler. Even though he's being mind-controlled, he still looks like he's earnestly concerned past the professional demeanor and mind-yanking facade! In order to make sure the mission goes well, though- "Are you really going to try and draw a line of decorum when it comes to liberating glorified slaves?" -she needs to be able to pull through this much. Inhaling briefly, she holds that for a second before breathing in for a more tired yawn that's only partially put on with her usual sleeping habits. "Ah, i-it wasn't so bad. The space debris only rattled the windows a little bit, and I got here safe enough!" She 'reassures', calling on her own memories of a particularly bad shuttle ride to really get the right gut feeling back in her for that. "Hospitality? Um... S-sure, I guess! Although if we could get to a room-oh. Um. O-okay!" Swept up in the butler's insistence on getting her to the lounge, Odette ends up going along that way instead. Resolved as she is to do whatever it takes to free the brainwashed people here, she's still too much of a pushover even to someone like the butler. She just looks over at Princess, Blossom, Ivy, and Alex with a questioning shrug while scooching closer to them so she can try and whisper a bit. "I've got an idea. I-I got one of those disguises from Miss Ritescu's store before, right?" She unzips her bag just enough to show off said disguise, then closes it right back up. "So if I can get a moment alone, I can change and start poking arund. M-maybe even seeing if there's a... Some kind of release code on the mind-control, or central system override, or..." Sadly, Odette doesn't know that much about computers, or about shutting down entire systems. "Not life support... Atmospherics? N-no, this is all natural air." She murmurs after a while, trying to puzzle out what could actually work. the lounge comes into view sooner than expected, though, and the warmth and trophies once again have the EMT going wide-eyed and curious about everything she's seeing. She also sees a whole lot of big sofas and love seats, fancy chess sets, and a maid already coming over here with things to eat and drink!"O-oh! Thank you, miss.. Um. Maid? I haven't had anything to eat and drink since Miss Ritescu's shop." She gratefully takes one of the offered teas and, perhaps surprisingly, stops herself from taking any of the snacks. It's not like she's hungry after the crab and soup snack, after all! She doesn't get to drink much of the tea before gagging and choking a bit on it, though, when the demonic attendants start coming over. "H-huh? Hi? What.... H-home? Um. I'm from S.. Saturn! A moon colony, actually.." As she bumbles and stammers along, the EMT freezes up at first when she's getting cuddled up on, just kind of timidly and gormlessly going along with whichever way they want to pull her, make her drink, and 'convince' her to stay. Even without mind affecting abilities, she's not exactly a bastion of willpower. What she is is a fountain of stammered responses and easily peer-or-otherwise pressured squeaks and compliance with whoever's got their hands on her. With enough drinks (even if there's no actual alcohol content), she'll even be giggling like an idiot before long just from the vibes. "A-although I'm living at a station now, and the-Oh, the Company is the biggest corporation that owns just about everything there. they used to be okay, but then the Redshifts..." "Plans, plans.. Um. Stopping Queen Liliana, mostly. I-I was thinking about dressing up like a maid to help look into what she's got, you know?" "Friends? Plenty! Or, I guess they're more like.. Co-workers? Really cool ones that can do way more, but I'm... I-I'm still doing alright, you know? I-it's just kind of hard to keep up with them sometimes, and it... S-sometimes, it feels like I'm holding them back. O-or all the time."
Powerpuff Girls	SIDE LOUNGE Princess Deliliah etcetera etcetera feels a little tightly in her throat, her chest. She had taken it as funning, a bit of villainous engagement, a little finding out -- an abstraction. She had been taking things very seriously but she still knew it was a simulation. She just couldn't shake if she chose correctly. Blossom, in her periphery vision, seemed even more conflicted, but also, was with the group, and not back fighting the shopkeeper. Was this her greater good? Princess doesn't get to ask, doesn't think to so callously interrogate the red Puff as they enter this palatial level. Just like that, before she notices, Princess is separated with the Help, following them in the way of long guidance, long reliance, falling into her expected weakness of *being* seen to. Still fully armored, though her golden black super-power suit proves its worth on the couch-flop test, Princess is quickly sat down and... Sullen. This bitch wants to talk. The sinister horned woman to either side engaging in bouncing information gathering. Relaxing, Princess gets a HUD alert that she glances at and continues settling in, keeping things respectful but tiredly sprawling. "Normally what I do doesn't feel like... hurting people. Is that wrong? Nobody ever gets hurt from what *we* do, it's just, society that hurts people and we're in it." She begins, at a kind of odd lament. "It's not usually 'on me' to be the one responsible for more than myself. But you... wince, when it happens next to you? And I wince, and I think--" A long sigh as Princess lolls her head back and exhales, trying to gas off the feeling inside of her. Her eyes close. The control on her takes finer hold, pressing in on her, guiding her while her emotions left her eyes closed. "I want to stay, I think. This way, close-by, *here*, and not... Living a half-life, a non-life, everything I could want 'but that'." Her eyes open. She sees the HUD element. The control waxes again, in waves of awareness swimming back to the surface to tread water. "And I hate hearing 'no'. '*You* can't' is worse." Before her eyes, centered-top of her vision, is a strobe flashing YOU ARE BEING SOLD TO, bringing her mind into clear focus on the couch. Someone gets her a wineglass. She drinks while the suit administers a mild anti-alcoholic to her bloodstream. Business as usual. Meanwhile... SIDE PARLOR Blossom would not answer Princess if she asked her question. She didn't know herself. Floating after leaving the 'characters' to their chosen fates - chosen, and what did she choose? - Blossom is pulled towards the Parlor, a quiet reminiscence. Struggling, slightly, as Brick might be able to tell, Blossom is at least more or less outwardly firm in her choice. She could hear her sisters. That Princess was the one here, and already pulled off into another Situation, was the small blessings of 'handling the tryouts herself'. "Let's see where this is going, Brick," Blossom suggests. "Everyone's gone at a hard clip, and they can't all hang out in a sun while listening to music. A little time to engage in some... characterwork, with the locals, might be nice?" Then, floating over (as she's brought glasses of wine, taking two), Blossom settles into a couch opposite of Satsui and shares one of her glasses with Brick. "General, I'm glad you survived your encounter in the higher tower. Can I ask - what is this 'grand design' that even the common people can join you with?"
Aidan Proudpick	The tentacle twists hard, flicking Aidan through the air. He feels almost like his neck is about to break, his jaw fly away from his body as tendons creak from the tremendous centrifugal force. His brain, his breath, everything can move Aidan like a jet, a gyroscope, wind moving around his body. And much like a cat, his body rotates itself, legs twisting, tail shifting, turning himself around in mid air. If he just had a little more room, a little less speed of being thrown. A little more luck, he could twist around properly and land neatly. Aidan hits the shelves at an angle, giving several painful cracks from both minor fractures and the shelves themselves. When he hits the floor, he feels pain shoot up from his hip, from his back, from various camping and adventuring supplies tumbling down on his head. He can barely see straight from the jolt. Aidan cracks open one eye, just in time to see the filament of light brighten. He can barely get his shield up, he is too busy using it to crash down two more tentacles to keep them up, trying to keep each spear from his face, from his body. He makes a single desperate strike. A crack of air as Aidan draws in all the air from in front of him. A shockwave pulling towards Aidan as he draws in a vacuum. Not one as big to cover the entire Union Busan. But one big enough to at least fill the room in a cone towards Ritescu. Then, in the same sudden rush, he lets it out in a scream, a shrieking shockwave forward in the next breath. It has the precise same effect as shouting into a hurricane. The bright light fills the room. There's a brief look at Sarracenia before the concussive blast. Then light fills Aidan's vision. He fills his entire being pushed back into the stone, steel crushing like a can as the force pushes him up against the wall. His head pushes back into the stone, struggling to keep his chin low so his head doesn't seem crack backwards and off. He tries to keep his limbs in, feeling them strain as he is blasted back. He doesn't have a breath for a one liner, his head simply resting limply on his chest.
Sarracenia	After a few moments of it not helping she pulls out a fire flower. She holds it up and starts to blow across its petals, but before she can they are hurled across the room! Sarra yelps and reaches up to touch her lotus again, and that metal covers her once more.      But it isn't enough. Sarra yelps as she hits the wall, and given the overall sturdiness of this place it is unlikely she leaves a mark even in metal form. It just reflects all that momentum back into her and she goes bouncing away, only to get pinned like a bug on a board by those incoming stabbing tentacles. The princess cries out in true pain, not the usual superficial or relatively minor pain she often escapes with. She is knocked around by the slicing and send bouncing back and forth as gashes are cut into her metal form.      Sarra manages to weather that assault thanks to the metal coating, landing in a heap afterword. She struggles to get back to her feet, but before she can muster up a counter attack...light graces her eyes. "...oh...a...kaiju beam..." she says, the conversation with White still fresh on her mind. Unlike Aidan, Sarra is not really fast at all. She scrabbles against floor, but smooth metal does not make for the best gripping. Metal Sarra disappears in the beam with a shrill cry.      When it clears, a smoldering Sarra falls down from the wall, where she can only lie there curled up in pain, eyes closed and teeth clenched. She feels like something...or maybe everything...might be broken after that. And she might have new burns reminiscent of another very powerful friend who became a foe.      She manages to get one eye open, and looks toward Rita. She smiles somewhere between thankful and apologetic and regretful with some tears still there. Sees Aidan over there passed out. She tries weakly to move toward him, but only manages to pull herself along a couple of feet before she too blacks out.
Petra Soroka	"Minigame, probably to either summon a bonus boss or to open a portal of some kind -- could just be a door -- somewhere seemingly unrelated,"     Petra nods sagely at Brick, accepting the given prompt. "Yeah. If it's a door, Cinder, send me a text; if it's a boss, try not to die before I get there. I think it won't do anything until the fish is brought back to Ritescu, though, so I'm not *rrreally* thinking that you'll get jumped like that." "Our lady the Queen has bade us explicitly to provide warm hospitality to those she plans to establish relations with in future."     That sounds good, right? 'Establish relations with in the future'. Petra is doing such a good job roleplaying that she got invited into the cooler zone, where Liliana will eventually summon her to give her a pat on her head and some praise for how invested in the scenario she got. She's winning, at roleplay!     After humu-ing to herself while being led off, somewhere along the walk Petra settles down to consider that being praised by Liliana is exactly the opposite of what she wants to happen. This isn't strictly even a horny-based liability-- it's a new, different liability, where proper social rewards for behavioral mirroring can be used to guide Petra down any course of behavior, like a trail of cheerios laid on the ground. She won't say that out loud, because Brick is here and would write it down and then she'd be getting a bad grade instead of a good grade. "It would be good to let her rest at this time. She has a fragile constitution."     Petra nods, thoughts catching on that and turning gears. "Well, I'm sure she'll get better quickly in your guys' care." Politely but probing-- if the maids are the ones taking care of the princess, then that might be the best usage of Petra's maid outfit. The princess is obviously being held captive somewhere, possibly mind controlled, but her compliance is a significant factor in Liliana's control over the region. "I see. You have finally understood how misplaced your ambitions are, and come to negotiate."     "... Satsui." It just feels right for Petra to address Satsui like she's an equal, or was once, in this context. Petra feels a little disappointed that she never actually sat down with Lilian to establish a 'backstory', because she's been bargained down by the environment from bemoaning not being included as a villain to just wanting to be included in general, but she'll diligently stick to her improvisation.     "We're here to talk, but don't think we'll just... um... just... lay and down and... uh... hi...?" Voice of the Yearner: i think these are the lust demons that hafren mentioned Voice of the Pure: No shit, Sherlock. What gave you that brilliant realization? Was it just because a woman acted interested in us? Voice of the Yearner: well you see Voice of the Yearner: they're trying to mind control us Voice of the Pure: Uh huh. We're immune to that, dumbass. Voice of the Yearner: well Voice of the Yearner: i mean Voice of the Yearner: after that *whole* arc Voice of the Yearner: after *all* that time trying *not* to be immune Voice of the Yearner: don't you think Voice of the Yearner: i mean it's an option Voice of the Yearner: like you can't even be a liability if it's mind control Voice of the Pure: Yes you can! You absolutely fucking can! Voice of the Pure: Are we seriously stooping to this?? This whole argument feels practically *predatory*! Leave these girls alone!
Petra Soroka	"There's no need to part from the General on our account," Voice of the Yearner: huh? Voice of the Pure: Huh?     "... Huh?"     Petra blinks as the cabaret girls retreat from slowly dogpiling her and untangle their limbs from hers, surfacing from the psychic bickering inside her head that was causing her aura to flicker and flare in painful intensity. Belatedly, her face starts to flush pink and she takes a few steps back, bumping into the minibar and leaning an elbow on it like it was on purpose.     "... My, um, willpower is too strong for that, by the way."     As unwise as it might be, Petra pours her own guinomi of sake, in order to make it seem more purposeful that she was at the bar. She sips from it and shoots Brick a side glance to assess how many more liability points she's just racked up for that. It's not like she even did anything wrong!!! She was so brave!     "Anyways. Ahem." Petra clears her throat and tries to match Satsui's character freak. "It's not as if the commoners were any less pawns before Queen Liliana took them in, sure. And whatever ambitions they had for their lives before her, I don't-- don't doubt that hers dwarf them completely. But..."     Oh, god, it's so hard for Petra to come up with a coherent reason she'd opposite any agenda of Lilian's. It's like the lobe of her brain that used to spout out the kind of nonsense that Sarracenia says so easily has been excised entirely. In her heart, she knows that if it was Lilian on that throne instead of Liliana, she'd be one of the dark generals haughtily demanding that the heroes grovel and negotiate.     "... Are her intentions for them better for their own sakes, or just her own? It's only, really, you and the others who volunteered to serve her."
Lilian Rook	LOUNGE:     Being told Odette's comment about 'space debris' sets everyone laughing. A demoness runs her fingernail up and down Odette's arm in bashful little circles, telling her that she 'sooooo funny'! in a way that lights up her brain. The maid laughs gently, saying "Miss Ritescu is a lifesaver when it comes to little things like that! Fulfilling her bargain by setting up a general store was such a stroke of brilliance! She's so reliable; really, everyone just loves her! Even I've taken a jaunt or two to pick up cleaning supplies I'd misplaced or run dry of!"     After the maid leaves, the comment stopping Queen Liliana sets every girl in the room almost cackling. "Gosh you're so silly~ But in a cute way!" "Holding them back? Oh you poor girl . . ." "See those little knicknacks? In the cases! She makes a habit out of collecting a 'keepsake' out of everyone who tried~" "Really, I think you're just misunderstood! You're smarter than all of them, you know." "All you have to do is put on that dress and disappear into the maids, and you'll completely get out of trouble~" "No one will notice. And you can work . . . here~ With us~"     That almost seems prudent. A demon is in Ivy's lap by now, another one hanging on the back of her subordinate's chair, leadingly flattering and praising the Warprunners to ask about what they know about the singularity, their escape plans, and so on. One is taking the initiative to sit by Princess and look concerned. Like, actually concerned. The face of someone who knows she's going to have to be a therapist for this shift, and will feel bad if she doesn't. Slitted eyes and flicking tail don't really ruin it. "I think most people don't really want to believe that they're hurting people. It's normal, isn't it? Because it's really very hard not to hurt anyone at all by living, and so if you stop feeling distant, then you start feeling it all the time. It's scary." "I think it's the worst when someone makes people ashamed of being happy, though; or try to stop someone from making others happy. That's a different kind of hurting. That's choosing to be the society itself, not just moving within it. So I don't think I totally understand. Why you're here, I guess, but also what you mean by a half-life. If you know that it's being told 'no' that gets you, is it too hard to change?"     CONSERVATORY:     'Shouldn't you be saving your middling repartee, for someone closer to your level of skill? It will be years before you can reach me in that regard.' "Ohhhhh my god you're so laaaaame." "Seriously. There's no one watching. You can stop."     'How did you end up here? I mean, um, 'here' like 'with the Queen.'     Sougou asking is clearly startling. So much that the two look at each other as if to confirm he hasn't asked them to drop out of character. Neither of them having tried to kill them yet, though, they hesitantly sit back down to where they were watching the water; though they don't gesture for the others to sit at all.
Lilian Rook	"We're both from a little kingdom just south of Cinnuint. Our father has been watching the Queen's movements for a while, but when she took over here . . ." "Obviously his beautiful daughters and masters of statecraft should go to make a good impression~" "Haha . . ." "We arrived a couple of months ago." "Glascail was way less cute than this back then. Like it's kind of incredible how fast it came together? Once the village started cooperating I mean." "Regardless. We've been guests of the Queen. Discussing plans for diplomatic relations. Plans for the future. That sort of thing." "It's taking a while. She's always busy, so it's hard to schedule real talks." "But it hasn't been bad at all here." "We used our spare time to get to know the others! They're going to be super helpful allies! And they're just nice besides? Way more interesting than any noble I know." "I don't think we're exactly free to leave until this is done, but I don't have complaints." "Except about you, running in and mucking everything up! Right when we were coming to an agreement too!" "Do you have any idea how hard it is to negotiate from a position of this little leverage? Seriously." "Your friends fucking suck too." "Language! But they do." "They just run around attacking our friends and blowing up everything we spent a lot of time on while we were here!" "You're obviously going to lose. I've been watching and you're nothing special." "Nothing the Beast of the North--" "Elena!!" "Oh-- hh-- um, forget I said that. Please?" ". . . But I'd be really pissed off if you put our kingdom in danger just to satisfy your ego."     Cinder can hear this well enough while fishing, but it's not really relevant. What matters is that the fish are slippery and a little difficult. When she catches one, the staff don't seem to mind, but firmly encourage her to catch and release. Until eventually, she catches her hook on something especially stubborn and seemingly static. Some wiggling with the rod and a little bit of elbow grease and trust in its quality dredges up:     Jewelry Box: The lock is rusted shut. It looks delicate . . .     PARLOUR:     'Ever seen the Sherlock Holmes stage play?'     "I'm afraid I haven't. Is it something you find interesting?" says the made, more interested than merely cordial. After a moment, she dimly intuits, or recalls, something, and says "The princess is well, if that's what you mean. I believe it would simply be inappropriate to remark in much more detail to visitors."     Brick's 'suggestion' makes her stall out for a second. Looking back and forth between him and the door, she pauses in unusual indecision, looks to Satsui, who shrugs, and then says "If you will allow me then." semi-gratefully, and awkwardly seats herself. One of the demons immediately comes over to her side, and starts purring in her ear about it, indiscriminate in target now that the okay has been given.
Rita Ma	The aftereffect of being point-blanked with Rita's essence purge (and, blessedly, remaining in one piece) is feeling like every muscle is bruised and every joint has been whiplashed. Even if the tentacles haven't skewered or slashed you, you might be bleeding from where you were smashed back against the product shelves, against splintered wood and splintered stone.      The flash of light makes it even harder to see in the dark. Red eyes get closer. Their glow shines off... drool? Dripping to the floor. Drip. Drip. ... Glk.      A little moment of restraint.      The shop's lanterns reflash. It's lit again. Ribbons of viscous oil, looking in shape suspiciously like tentacles, slurp back under Ritescu's (Rita's?) black-and-red cape.      "Let's get you back to the staging area," Rita murmurs, though she doesn't know if either of them can hear her. Aidan over the left shoulder. Sarracenia over the right. "Hmp! They've got painkillers. And coffee. And beds. It's nice."
Angela	''If it's a text... If it's a boss...'' "Will do! Good luck on your side, Petra!" Cinder chirps. LATER... Cinder listens to the backstory. Well, some of the backstory. The truth is, she's having a hard time keeping track of everything. She catches a fish! She holds it up triumphantly over her head. #-1 FUNCTION (ANIS) NOT FOUNDI did it, Sougo! I caught one...!" And then she promptly tosses it back into the pond because she was asked nicely to. "Were you not going to feed that fish to Miss Rita?" "No, to Miss Ritescu...! Now who isn't paying attention to lore?" "Hahn... Miss Ritescu then. Actually the worldbuilding is quite intricate. Without knowing the full details of the situation, even if you were to somehow defeat Queen Liliana you might do more damage to the overarching political climate." "It'd be kind of a weird training seminar just to learn that we should've just stayed home--Oh! Got something! Something big...! Or at least tough...!" She snaps something up into the air and catches it in both hands. She lifts it triumphantly over her head. "A...jewelry box!" She says triumphantly. "..." Cinder looks to Sougo and Woz. "What's it for?" She just asks them, assuming they will just do their thing.
Lilian Rook	'General, I'm glad you survived your encounter in the higher tower.'     'Satsui' chuckles as darkly can with her vocal range. "Not for lack of trying." she says. "But if this is to be my fate, then I will surrender to it as well. The battlefield on which I die must be one even more glorious."     'Well, I'm sure she'll get better quickly in your guys' care.'     "Oh, no, of course we aren't permitted to tend to the Princess! It would be an insult to her noble birth to do so with our common hands!" the maid gasps. "Our lady the Queen sees to all of her needs personall! Bless her heart for such generosity!"     'We're here to talk, but don't think we'll just... um... just... lay and down and... uh... hi...?'     "You're free to take any position you wish. I won't mind." says . . . well, that one felt like a little bit of Satsuki straining the fourth wall. Just a bit. She couldn't help it.     '... My, um, willpower is too strong for that, by the way.'     Mid-talk, the demoness wearing the least in the room laces her arms around Petra's neck, leans on her back at the bar, and very closely whispers into her ear "Hey. What do you think we were all doing before you got here~? Nobody is going to bat an eye at a little 'on-site reconnaissance' you know." Please let that be a lie. "Besides. It's your fault I'm here, isn't it? Shouldn't you take responsibility~?"     '... Are her intentions for them better for their own sakes, or just her own? It's only, really, you and the others who volunteered to serve her.'     Ignoring whatever is being whispered, Satsui savours a slow drink, and eventually replies. "What does it matter? If they are better off for her own sake, then what she has desired all this time is something that benefits all for being granted; and we serve for love of her noble vision. Would you seek to tear down one who feeds the poor for nothing more than the love of cooking? Your questions are tiresome."     'Can I ask - what is this 'grand design' that even the common people can join you with?'     "Now that is more interesting." says 'Satsui', leaning in. "Didn't the Architect give you some idea? I believe you've earned at least that much, if only for your resolve."     "When the work is complete, the Hungering Star will finally expand to swallow all. It will be done in an instant, so utterly that you would not feel so much as a breeze in passing. When it is done, all of time will cease to pass. None will grow tired, hungry, or old. The division between night and day will be broken, as will the seasons, and fixed in their proper place. The rot of the universe will be no more. The chosen kingdoms, eternal. The petty violence of the crude masses will run dry of fuel, and then eradicated from the world, for all will be under the Queen's all-encompassing hand. And in the promised land of eternity, the imperishable will find permanent, everlasting peace."
Powerpuff Girls	SIDE LOUNGE Princess expects it a little, and at the same time, is surprised when a demon sits besides her. She's surprised when there's real concern there. In her peripheral vision Princess see Odette get taken down fairly hard by the trawling of the demons and shutter her eyes for a second in wide shrug. Maybe Odette should disappear into the maids? Some of the more interesting villains came up henching for bigger villains. An opportunity to seize a power for yourself didn't come up every day, but around someone who took trophies from everyone that took a swing and missed... Mind wandering, Princess tries to return to her topics while transitioning her shrug into a pom-combing rake of the fingers. "There's something to being a villain - seizing the meaning of your actions for yourself. If you--" The rich ginger gestures out, turning suitgloved hand and then curling fist closed. "Just become Mayor for a day, because you want to, then at least at the end even if it's all your fault you got what you wanted." Her fist clenches until the glove creaks, kr-k-k-kking with tension. "If you blow something up, it's because you wanted to. It's different, entirely, from buying it, leaning on it until you collapse it beneath how much scrip you can point. 'It's mine, and I break it' is an idiot child's logic." Her glove loosens. The tension in her jaw loosens. Relax, the voices say, and Princess relaxes. Reveal the technical specifications of your suit and its weaknesses, and Princess opens her eyes again. "They don't want to hurt people close to them." Princess 'answers' her devil-therapist, and then looks to the slit-eyed woman more fully. "Unless you're a certain way, you don't want someone to go down next to you. If they're 'like' you. And, sometimes, they're really like you." Princess sits forward, forearms on knees, gloved hands clasping before her. "I feel it all the time. I can count the dollars it takes to even get close to where I want to be. I did it once, and hated it. Because I'm not an idiot, and I know what a dollar bill really is the image of." Intimate for a moment, Princess looks her visor-pinkened eyes up at her companion on the couch. "It's not a president. It's a drop of blood. Sometimes that blood's yours. Most of the time - it's not." "I'm not stupid." Princess Delilah Morbucks III, first name Princess, repeats, and hangs there. "In comic books, it's different. In shows, even ours, they skip showing the work. Only the... drama shots. The stuff good for marketing." She goes on to admit, and leaves it at that.
Rowdyruff Boys	//Let's see where this is going, Brick// "There's really no need," Brick says, almost boredly. "Room full of demon women with these sort of trappings have a very particular purpose, and the boys and I have enough aunts that I don't really feel like humoring them them. The rest can carry on the way the scenario pleases." "Unless that's what you already meant," he adds, taking the wine glass offered and considering it. He sniffs at it suspiciously to check that it seems broadly untainted before he tries a sip. //... My, um, willpower is too strong for that, by the way.// "Whatever it is, it's not willpower. Willpower isn't entirely fake, but it isn't real enough to be what you have flying around you. Mine isn't willpower, either. Not that I can keep people entirely out, but I can keep them from pulling parts out or changing them against my preferences ever again. I prefer to call it a kind of peculiarity. A distinction that makes direct contact unachievable." "Wouldn't bet on it being willpower basically ever, though." Boomer loiters around the staff of the parlour quite comfortably. He chats about basically nothing towards one of them; he doesn't seem especially impervious to being charmed by flattery, but there is a protection keeping him from being subjected to unwanted alterations as well. It's probably emanating from Brick, though-- this goober doesn't seem to have it in him. "By the way," Brick adds towards Petra, frowning at his glass. His voice begins to oscillate in a manner similar to HIM-- though it remains distinct. His own. Not quite so sing-song, but still charmingly pleasant in an undefinable way -- not compelling or hypnotic, he knows that won't work on Petra. But the trappings, the affect is there. "if you DID get read like a primer by FUCKING SARRACENIA and fumble it in the final stretch, that might just be the most miserable thing I've ever heard of. I'LL MAKE SURE IT GETS TELEVISED, OF COURSE." //I'm afraid I haven't. Is it something you find interesting?// "No, I just think this approach to keeping that Princess out of reach has the approximate quality of a low-competence blackmailer in 1800s London," he says. "Hey, I like that character--" "He's a great character, his approach is just shitty." //And in the promised land of eternity, the imperishable will find permanent, everlasting peace.// "Brick, they're Scientologists..." "Eh."
Ivy Carrow	"You know, we didn't always use to be like this..." She found herself pouring a drink. It was appropriately red--swirling it in the glass, slowly. "A castle full of gates across the multiverse. Portals that could open across existence...Once, there was just a little building, on a nowhere world..."     "I don't know if you've ever seen one, but there are plenty. They're supposed to be invisible." Ivy murmured, taken by a rare moment of melancholy. "Someone has to drive the trucks to keep the multiverse running, move the plastic, the cement, the silicon. Trains and warehouses and trucks carrying freight. Pencil-pushing receptionists watching numbers go by, for goods they'd never touch, carried off to worlds they'd never see."     "There used to be stories there, you know." A sigh. "Little shops owned by people whose names you knew. Old, houses, haunted by the stories of what might live inside. Little forests and glades, where kids played. And then they paved over it all, to make room for warehouses to store tons of air conditioners, vaccums and dildos in transit to somewhere on Afterus. Isn't that sad?"     "Alex and I...We promised we'd get out." She drank. "...No matter what."
Timespace Riders	Do you have any idea how hard it is to negotiate from a position of this little leverage? Seriously.     "Yeah, actually, I do," says Sougo with a little frown. "So I'm sorry that us being here has kind of... screwed you." . . . But I'd be really pissed off if you put our kingdom in danger just to satisfy your ego.     "Well," says Sougo, gently placing a hand over Woz's chest when he visibly bristles at 'nothing' special on Sougo's behalf, "That would really suck, wouldn't it?"     "If I endangered everyone in your kingdom because I felt like I knew better. Have you, um, spoken to any of them? The villagers, I mean. You did, right? Because an important part of statecraft is knowing the people's minds."     "So, that means you saw what I saw. And I don't know why you'd call that 'cooperation.' No one looks the Queen, your friends, or even her knights in the eye--they look away, and they hope that if they do, they won't stand out. Because they've lost people to those suits of armor, or know people who have, and what little they have left to lose is too precious to risk fighting for and losing all of it."     "Is that normal, to you? When you finish up your business here and go back home, do you want your people to huddle in the shadows and hope you don't see them?" He circles around the bench, if need be, to look them in the eyes for their respective answers. I did it, Sougo, I caught one...!     Sougo lights up, pumping his fist in the air. "Hey, good job, Cinder!" What's it for?     "I know not," says Woz. He doesn't retrieve the book, either. "Apologies, but I make it a personal rule not to rely overmuch on that particular talent; doing so in the past has cost me and those important to me. I shall not counsel you as I otherwise would. However... perhaps the royal consigner might have a key. I suggest keeping your find on your person until our next meeting with her."     Sougo hms thoughtfully. Then, he realizes Cinder is looking at him like he could do something too! "Oh, sorry, Cinder, but things don't really, um... speak to me, in the way that people do. If I tried anything, it'd be way clumsier than what Woz could do." At best, stumbling around in time loops looking for what relevance it might have, which... could be pretty obvious to the Queen if he's not careful.     "Where were we? Oh, yeah."     "For what it's worth, I don't think your friends suck, even though I'm fighting them. You'd probably get along with mine, if you weren't only seeing us in this context, you know. Well, most of them, anyway," he laughs.     "You said you couldn't leave. I'm sorry, again, if we've made that worse. Have you been able to keep in touch with your father?"
Odette Raskins	The laughter over space debris gets a confused glance look from Odette in that utterly confused way. Did she say something funny? She didn't even get to start cracking jokes yet, even though she's been saving a few ever since Lilian had told her to say something funny. She's tempted to let just one go for now to see how much more laughter she could get out of them, but she's got a mission to do! The fact that they're demons also just starts to dawn on her, but only for a moment before the arm-scritches get more of those squeaky noises out of the EMT. "Wha-wha-wha-huh? O-oh, uh, thanks you. If you wanted funny, though, I have... Jokes?" Wait, that's not what she came here to do. She came here to get work done! To save people! To investigate! The maid gives her some potentially juicy information, too, and the EMt does her damndest to pay attention even with those chills running up her spine. "She really is! I've got plenty of cool stuff from her place before, and I'll probably get more the next time I drop by... Huh? A bargain? Y-yes, her stuff's pretty cheap. Real affordable, too, I.. Think?" How much do people get paid in here, anyway? Not important enough to ask, but still something that comes to mind with how strangely pretty the currency is. It takes until the maid leaves for Odette to finally ask the remaining demons in the lounge: ".. Oh! She meant between Miss Ritescu and Queen Liliana. Um. What kind of deal do they have with each other, anyway?" The cackling following Odette's moment of internal dejection has her slumping a bit in place at first, but having her ego stroked by getting called smart picks her right back up a second later. "R... Really? but they're... I mean, they're all so much better at coming up with plans. Or analyzing complex theoretical concepts, or understanding stuff about mind dungeons, or what have you. I-I mean, I've been studying up on magic with Father Lucius, and-Oh, he's a priest from a different country. Really cool, super good at magic, knows a whole bunch about his country's history, and I-uh. The kids he's taking care of all love him." She sighs wistfully for a moment, then shakes her head quickly. "A-anyway. I've been practicing magic a bunch for months now, and I still can't even get that right." Having sufficiently talked herself into a mood hole, Odette sniffs lightly once and stares at her bag sullenly. "No wonder he's not interested... Ugh. M-maybe you're right. If I just disappear, the others could probably move way faster, fight without having to cover me, not have to wait for me to get around."
Odette Raskins	Before she can get too into the weeds about what everyone in the group can do,Odette looks back up at the demons and the relics  around the room. "Yeah... O-oh. So if I tried, she'd have a..." She pauses to think about that for two seconds, then scratches her head lightly. "... An extra hat? My HUD? I-I don't really have anything that isn't the Company's standard issue guear for EMTs, actually." Something else to push Odette deeper in to the mind hole. She doesn't even have anything cool enough to go into a display case! The idea of just disappearing into the maids is becoming more and more appealing by the moments, especially when the actual demons right in front of her are encouraging her to put the dress on. "There's something to being a villain - seizing the meaning of your actions for yourself." That's why Queen Liliana's doing this, right? There's got to be some kind of meaning to all of this extravagance, and all this effort into mind-wiping and employing an entire population when mere physical and magical might would be enough to just conquer a place like this. There must be a reason Princess is talking to one of the demons about villainy despite being a bonafide hero. Maybe that's the hint she's trying to give Odette. Maybe she should really put the dress on, and see where it takes her, regardless of titles and posturing. It could lead to good intel, it could lead to self-discovery, or it really could keep her out of trouble if nobody else even notices she's gone to begin with. "S.. Sure, why not? A-at least I'll get a cool sword out of it." Odette reasons out loud, setting her duffel bag down to the side so she can get Ritescu's maid disguise out with the included feather duster.  "Is there somewhere I can change?" Odette sounds considerably less down than before, and considerably more on task.
Petra Soroka	"Oh, no, of course we aren't permitted to tend to the Princess!"     "... Right, yeah." Well, there goes that plan. Maybe there's some other goal that Petra could advance by putting on the maid outfit later, though. Surely Liliana wouldn't have provided a maid outfit without contriving some reason for Petra to end up wearing it. "The Queen sure is generous." "Besides. It's your fault I'm here, isn't it? Shouldn't you take responsibility~?"     "I-it is? What did I, um, do?" Surely, Petra is not enough of a loser virgin to be rendered immobile by a scantily-clad demon woman embracing her. She is, insistently, only one of those things! However, the instinctual reaction to flinch away and deny any contact at all is one that still loosely rattles in her brain, and when away from her comfort zone (Lilian, mostly), it has to be actively suppressed.     Her problem, therefore, is that despite her practiced comfort with several women who do worse to her more aggressively than this, this one is unfamiliar to her, and thus has no prepared response. The response most easily accessible to her is one that she intentionally denies, because she's so good about not being homophobic anymore. She has yet to fully internalize that there are maybe other reasons to not let a woman jump your bones besides homophobia.     "Like, uh-- I-I think way too many people might bat their eyes at th-that, actually. I-I might get a bad grade. From Brick, I mean, not that-- like, because of-- I'd get a *good* grade, but I'd sort of be getting off-task, and I don't really think there's-- the intel isn't, um...." "Wouldn't bet on it being willpower basically ever, though."     That's a fairly insightful comment from Brick that causes Petra to sober up some (and also take a sip of her sake while she thinks). "Actually... in this case, I don't really know what you'd call the difference between it and willpower. It's the only thing that's psychically concrete about myself without help, so there's not really any source of it besides 'me'. Is there a difference between willpower that's, like, just some loose thing that you have to try and summon up every time you need it, and the willpower needed to staple a gun to the back of your head that goes off automatically if you fuck up?"     "Well," Petra amends, nasally, "I had Flamel use a big machine to punch a hole in my psyche anyways, recently. So I'm actually pretty good at the normal vague definition of willpower too."
Petra Soroka	"if you DID get read like a primer by FUCKING SARRACENIA and fumble it in the final stretch, that might just be the most miserable thing I've ever heard of. I'LL MAKE SURE IT GETS TELEVISED, OF COURSE."     Petra covers her face and coughs, throat a little raw from the sake. "H-hey, I don't think she could literally ever in her life predict what I'm on about. I'm on, like, complex narratives beyond the shit she could dream of. She doesn't even have the words to be right about me."     Recalling the advice from earlier, Petra takes a breath and raises her head. "And besides, I said earlier. You can rely on me. I promise." "When the work is complete, the Hungering Star will finally expand to swallow all."     Petra sighs and leans back against the counter, faintly pink from the alcohol. She tugs at the laced-up collar of her dress shirt and closes her eyes, focusing on the too-close well of gravity above their heads, already whittling away at 9.81m/s^2. For once, she doesn't have to rely on overthinking about the bit to come up with a response.     "... Yeah. I'd rather that every single person besides her in the universe withers and dies, than for 'stasis' to be the status quo. At least someone who's condemned to die because of time passing will have days, and seasons, and years before it happens, and it'll all be different and worth living through because of that. At least there's time before you become a corpse."
Lilian Rook	LOUNGE:     'There's something to being a villain - seizing the meaning of your actions for yourself.'     "Well . . . I don't think I'd say I've done anything villanous . . ." says the demoness, twirling her hair around her finger. "But I wonder sometimes. Is being a villain great because you get to be true to yourself, or is it trash that if you're true to yourself, you're a villain? You know?"     "And maybe it's trash that you needed the dollars to get there, more than 'you are trash' for using them. There's such a difference between doing something wrong and having something wrong with you, and people will make the first thing feel like the second thing all the time. I don't know about anything so complicated as making things not have to be like that, but I think if you're going to be a 'villain', maybe you have to not worry so much about how much people are like you if they wouldn't do what you did to get there; not even to join you. I think I'd go crazy." Pouring a drink, she turns sideways, offers it to Princess, and says "That's just my thoughts, though."     'There used to be stories there, you know. Little shops owned by people whose names you knew. Old, houses, haunted by the stories of what might live inside. Little forests and glades, where kids played.'     "Wow . . . You know, you and the Queen have a lot in common." says the demon in Ivy's lap, leaning against her chest. "This whole thing could have been a giant concrete doom fortress, right? There could be drones flying around with sniper rifles and cameras on every corner. The people could just be toiling in some mine somewhere. But it all has to be this way, right? This place was a boring little strip of nothing in nowhere; just a bunch of sloppy towns and villages shipping grain off to another lord. Then she paved it over with stories."     They look up into Ivy's eyes. "Do you ever think about doing that? Just flattening it all and building the forests where you went catching bugs as a kid and the scenic cafes where you fell in love for the first time on top of it? If you think of it like entropy, it seems inevitable, but if someone else did it, then you can always do the opposite. That's, like, how it works."     '.. Oh! She meant between Miss Ritescu and Queen Liliana. Um. What kind of deal do they have with each other, anyway?'     "Ritescu is such a little sweetheart. She's always worrying for those poor little villagers; especially the ones who are having a tough time adjusting." says a Demoness who has five inches, ten ostensible years, and two cup sizes on Odette, curling a finger under her chin with laser targeted accuracy.     "She pals around town, making friends, asking the people what they need, but might be too nervous to ask for! The Queen ships in all the little things she asks for, in exchange for gathering up all the petals for her~ It's a super efficient way to recycle them and keep the power in the castle, but doing it as an adorable little general store; that was such a stroke of brilliance! Much easier than running around herself, and everyone gets to chip in~ Wouldn't you like to give it a try? Lending a helping hand, being appreciated by everyone, making friends with little Ritescu~ Not worrying about anything . . ."     "Why do they get to drag you around anyways?!" sighs a different one. "Pushing you into all this dangerous stuff, making you feel stupid and useless, demanding the impossible! Screw them! They can do it themselves!"
Lilian Rook	CONSERVATORY:     'So I'm sorry that us being here has kind of... screwed you.' "Apology totally not accepted!" "You're a bigger man for trying, though."     'Have you, um, spoken to any of them? The villagers, I mean. You did, right?' "What? No way. Why? They're all under Queen Liliana's thumb anyways. It's not like I'm going to be ordering them around." "Or trying to get elected." "Hah!"     'Is that normal, to you?' "That's normal everywhere. Building a giant castle about it just gives something for people to focus on and be kind of normal about it." "Everyone everywhere is looking away from something and trying not to stand out or else they're huddling around whatever so and so and trying not to lose whatever they have." "We're literally here because we're tired of that." "But it aaaaaalways comes down to this. Every time someone figures out a solution, it's 'noooo you can't make everyone happier against their implicit wiiiiill!'" "Noooo! You can't tear down the institutions and make it all differeeeent!" "Nooooo what about free wiiiiiill what about noble spirit or something we're going to get it right any day now any second just let people do whatever and they'll be good we promiiiiise!" "Pffhahaha" "Hahahahaha!"     Hafren wipes a tear from her eye, glancing at Woz and back as a half-thought. "Seriously though. How are you going to be the 'Demon King of Time' without ripping something up and making some decisions for everyone? You think they're going to vote you into Time Parliament?"     'Have you been able to keep in touch with your father?' "Nope. Not our place."
Lilian Rook	PARLOUR:     'I'LL MAKE SURE IT GETS TELEVISED, OF COURSE.'     "That sounds like tomorrow Petra's problem~" says the one demon working on it, not budging. Indeed, it is definitely a hugely tempting feather in her cap.     'No, I just think this approach to keeping that Princess out of reach has the approximate quality of a low-competence blackmailer in 1800s London'     "Um . . ." The maid doesn't quite know what to say. It's not very comfortably within her paradigm. "I don't think the Queen has tried to blackmail anyone. That would be very strange. It's not as if her health is the reason she's staying here . . ."     'Brick, they're Scientologists     "Say what you will. Those who merely dream of all their struggles solved, their burdens lifted, everything promised to them, imagining a saviour that they will pleasantly never meet; they are worthy of mockery for their spineless fantasizing, far more than the substance of their beliefs. But it is undeniable that Liliana has the power to make what I say a reality. To bring this about with our own hands does not require a shred of faith. Only resolve."     'I-I might get a bad grade. From Brick, I mean, not that-- like, because of-- I'd get a *good* grade, but I'd sort of be getting off-task, and I don't really think there's-- the intel isn't, um....'     The demoness blows on the back of Petra's ear, and then purrs the dread syllables of the cursed incantation: "Lo~ser~ Nothing more than meat to be graded by a boy~"     '... Yeah. I'd rather that every single person besides her in the universe withers and dies, than for 'stasis' to be the status quo. At least someone who's condemned to die because of time passing will have days, and seasons, and years before it happens, and it'll all be different and worth living through because of that. At least there's time before you become a corpse.'     "Trite. Predictable. Boring." rumbles 'Satsui'. "'Stasis', 'boredom', 'meaning', 'ennui'; the crutches of pedants who have accepted death in their hearts and must contrive a reason set in the past." She takes a long drink.     "People like you deserve to die. You are fit only to be consumed by the rot that festers deep in the bones of the world. With an infinite life, infinite time, an infinite world, if you can think of nothing to do with yourself to justify living then you should die right now. And even then, the Queen is merciful, as she offers liberation from those petty trivialities, simply giving those too pathetic to live eternal contentment serving her will."     "Will you tell me something about the preciousness of freedom next? The irreplaceable beauty of the human spirit? What puerile philosophy will you invent to justify the ugliness and putrefaction that you breathe as a fish does water? I could not care less. The words of one who will not change anything, but lash out at those who do; they're no more than the barking of a wild dog."     "It is already decided. The rot will be purged, the Hungering Star will hunger no more, and Liliana will be free of its ravenous desires at last. Leave us, you tiresome wretch."