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Timekeeper     The Foundation doesn't have to be told that their intel is being sourced from a Watch cell in order to mobilize a field mission to act on it. The request for assistance goes out to the Paladins as normal, and to the Watch via Vertin, to perform a peacekeeping operation in the unstable political climate of Chicago, ever since the Columbus Day massacre was hijacked by the Manus Vindictae. For this very first time, after piling out of the warpgate in the abandoned Ford factory line, you're meeting at the Chicago branch of the St. Pavlov Foundation, where Vertin is alongside Sonetto, embroiled in a conversation with a man behind a heavy wooden desk in the lobby.

"Yes sir, I'm quite certain. I submitted the paperwork requesting one of your office's cars yesterday."
"Huh, well, I just don't think it came across my desk. And isn't that a big ask to make when we're already so busy? I'm not even sure you've got the authority to make that kind of request."
"I do, sir. I have direct dispensation from the Chief of Staff of the St. Pavlov Foundation headquarters to utilize resources of branch offices as-needed in the field."
"Iiiiiii just don't know; aren't you a little young? I'd rather talk with your boss first, come back with a letter from him."
"Sir! I am Chief Investigator Sonetto and we have been given direct orders to meet with Agent Moisson at the Sotheby manor in order to prevent a riot from breaking out among the humans. Please provide us with transport."

    The branch official startles when Sonetto salutes and speaks up, straightening his shoulders from where he was slouching while talking to Vertin. "Oh, the *Sotheby* manor? Well that *is* an emergency. You shoulda said so in the first place, kid. Fine, fine, the cars are out back."

    The car that the Chicago branch provides, with local employee driver, is oddly nice for a 1920s government vehicle. Far from seeming underfunded, there's a big of huffy importance to them, long, modern (for the times) cars with glossy custom grey and white checkerboard painting. The drivers seats have a wall between them and the back seats, which is convenient for discussing offworld and Storm related matters with privacy, but strikes Vertin as a little strange.

    Sliding in to the back, without seatbelts to distinguish between the seats, Vertin places their suitcase on their lap, and Sonetto stiffly maintains her posture with her shoulder away from the back of the seat. "Apologies for the delay, everyone."
Timekeeper     Along the way while the car trundles through the city, "We've gotten word that an organized demonstration is taking place today outside the Sotheby manor. The Sothebys are a family of arcanists, specializing in alchemy, who have risen to prominence and accrued wealth in America and worldwide. Ever since the murders of the those men in Moran's gang, the sentiment of human extremists in the city has rapidly shifted to perceive all arcanists as a threat against their way of life, and the Sothebys, prominent as they are, as the puppetmasters of arcanist manipulations against civilization."

    Vertin looks at the others in the car with a flat expression. "Of course, we have reason to believe that the Manus Vindictae had a hand in inciting and perhaps even indirectly organizing this demonstration, by stoking tensions within the city to become unlivable for the arcanists here. Whereas the Sothebys are staunch financial and political supporters of the Foundation. It's likely, given the tensions in the city, that this event will break out into violence. Our job is to mediate, and to minimize violence, but make no mistake:"

    The dull noise from outside the car grows in clarity as the chauffer turns onto a hill, until it crystallizes into shouts and jeers. Taking up a significant portion of the surrounding lawn, spilling across the road in a dense mass of human flesh, is a mob that's already worked up halfway to a riot. They press up against the black iron fence surrounding the property and grab onto bars to shake them, throwing rocks over, with a semi-unified shouting of 'witches get out'.

    Vertin continues, effortfully neutral, "Protecting the manor itself is part of our mission. If the riot passes the fence, then we're to use the minimum violence necessary to prevent them from entering the building."

    Red-faced, the grey and white of the Foundation vehicle doesn't exactly inspire confidence in the crowd, and while the chauffer slowly guides the car through the mass of people, some are so bold as to throw things at the car or shove it from side to side. While the driver curses and chunks of material batter the car, Sonetto raises up her glasfeder.

    "Allow me. Via pellare."

    A pulse of energy radiates out from the car after she completes the incantation, shoving back the crowd and causing stones to stop dead in the air and fall. Hastily, the driver takes the car to the gate, and slips through before the protective shielding that Sonetto made disappears. The car parks in the circle of brick around a central garden, in front of the door.
Riku Asakura Riku arrives after the car is secured, missing the conversation with the man who gave gruff to Vertin about securing the vehicle.  Riku is dressed in his normal outfit.  A jean jacket, with an orange shirt underneath, with what looks like a rocket on it.  He also wears a pair of jeans with sneakers, which gives a very casual look, especially when going out in public.  

In the car, he listens to the briefing.  He's about to ask why the focus on Sothebys' themselves, but hears that they're major funders of the foundation, and this is likely a Manus operation to get rid of backing for their rivals.  "This sounds messy... I don't like that they're using civilians to do this either..."

Riku mutters but continues to listen.  "So try and keep them at the gate, but prevent damage to the building if at all possible..." he frowns at this.  "Obviously, try not to hurt the civilians, as that will make this situation worse..." It sounds like he might have an idea as to how to deal with this, but he doesn't want to transform immediately.  

Doing that might turn the protests into a riot.  
Ein The Sotheby Manor is able to be host to a whole mob because it is an entire campus of a household, the main building rising into the dark of the surrounds as a massive edifice of opulent stone and finely carved wood. There are stone animals - all of increasingly grand and mythical varieties from horned rabbits to a gentle turn of the driveway flanked by gold-horned grey unicorns, with the progression growing and changing from entry gate through the paths. Turn-offs in the trees - these untouched by fire but fallen in leaf due to the fall weather - lead to other parts of the Sotheby's land, with the columns of the house at the far end rising with lion-forward and crest-roaring chimeras posed against the rises of the supports and flanking the door while giving an overhang long enough to shuttle a whole horse and buggy or other automotive engagement.

The house itself is eclectic, like a brutalist built a fortress in a series of stacks complete with wedge-shaped windows with dark curtains within and dark slats without, and then remembered they existed as a feature among the Chicago elite, businessmen and bankers, and placed facade over their strange abode.

The effect is striking, a place that is like nowhere else in Chicago yet vaguely falls within the broad bounds of the strangeness of the rich. The fortress vibe might also be forgiven for the open information that the Sotheby manor is a fortress by private citizen standards, with a live-in staff including several security members, separate garage and fuel station, and gated perimeter that *should* have kept the mob away from the main building, but, here we are. The exterior gate had been left unlocked, leaving the small security force to have to close things back up in a hurry once people realized they could press inside. Several rioters have become lost on the grounds, visible wandering in the woods along the roadside and hustling out of the way of Team Timekeeper as they make it down the road, and a few stragglers scream obscenities and slurs loudly past the stone circle at the foregrounds.

There are lights on in the house, behind curtains and shutters, and certainly people within, but there's no visibility from the inside to outside. From just inside the doors, there seems to be a dim party going on, with extremely muffled loud phonographic record of tuba-led swing band and crying violin.

At the door of the manor is what is clearly a high-ranking house staffmember in a dark tailed jacket and pants, cream vest and white shirt accented with gold striped tie flanked by two broad-shouldered and low pageboy capped gentleman who do not get portraits in dialogue who have since taken off their jackets to reveal slightly worn button-down shirts and black suspenders, but have left their gloves on in anticipation of being on one of the two sides of a necessary mid-act violence segment.

The 'head butler'-type with finely combed white hair into a side-wave and a half-rim monocle balanced impeccably on nose rests his weight on simple cane in left hand and keeps his right hand tucked behind his back, managing to stare down the quartet of individuals who have half a head on him by average. The arrival of everyone pulling out of the car prompts the gold-tied man to make a firmed announcement. "Gentlemen," He addresses the crowd of sour sorts who have drawn silent and sourer still by your arrival with the tone reserved for saying words like 'ingrates' or 'reprobates'. "It appears your previous maths regarding 'how things will go' will have to be re-thought, won't it? I suggest you take my previous offer, and have my colleagues here escort you to the gate."
Ein "Piss off, old fucking man! It'd be back to more of us than your ratty goons either way!"

One of the 'ratty goons' turns to spit into the nearby bushes. The butler immediately gives the gesture a Look, but makes no comment in this delicate time. The four rioters shift, still backing off, but it doesn't look like they're leaving. However:

"Good evening, everyone. If you'd come inside, my staff can handle this sorry collection of drunks." The butler declares, and takes a step back to shift the heavy manor doors with his hand and the pair of pageboy-capped bouncers advance slowly on the retreating encounter of Two Guys Across Two Waves.
Regulus As someone who lives in Vertin's suitcase, Regulus has a pretty easy way of beating most people to the punch when it comes to arrival times and is already with Sonetto and the Timekeeper.

She looks pretty bored with the bureaucrat already and is totally content to let Vertin and Sonetto handle that particular negotiation. Sonetto's emphatic request does get her to smile. Regulus actually likes a number of Sonetto's qualities but one of her favorite surely has to be that she has some sort of secret technique for getting people like this guy to grit their teeth and cut through the red tape. Take that, pencil pusher! Couldn't see her behind a desk.

''Well that *is* an emergency.''

"Nice job, Sonetto!" She says, totally openly.

She plunks herself down, ending up next to Sonetto funnily enough.

"You know, love, it feels real strange to be stopping a riot over an incredibly wealthy family." Regulus admits. This isn't a declaration that she isn't going to do it, just an unofficial statement of it being a strange situation Regulus didn't really expect to end up in.

''Our job is to mediate, and to minimize violence...''

"A bunch of arcanists showing up to protect the Sothebys might make that more likely rather than less." Regulus admits. "Not that we've got much choice." She slouches in her seat, feeling grumpily stuck between a rock and a hard place. APPLe is seated on her lap.

Regulus looks through the window as she watches--well--it looks like the protest is already throwing rocks and she lets out a long sigh.

...that's interrupted by a yelp as a pipe bonks off the side of the car and she exhales out a relieved, if slightly sour, breath. "Thanks Sonetto." She's so perturbed on being on the other side of a riot she doesn't even add 'love' at the end. "If only we could turn this into an impromptu concert and get everybody excited to rock out instead of excited to throw rocks."

She steps out once the car comes to a stop, lowering her hat over her eyes some. She's somewhat pleased, at least, to hear music coming from the manor--the kind of music she likes, even if it's not ROCK exactly--but she of course brought her own vinyl to fix the situation if she can make it inside. She's also pleased this guy is saying maths instead of math like a true hero.

''If you'd come inside, my staff can handle this sorry collection of drunks.''

Regulus is eager to seize an excuse to not have to fight a mob but she frowns uncertainly. "But we were sent to...help with the situation outside?" She asks, glancing over to Sonetto as if to confirm what their actual job is here. Glancing back to the old man, "Is there a party going on here or is the music just to block the noise?"
Einar It is difficult for Divine General Einar to blend in anywhere without puttin a great deal of effort into it, but he does so in this case admirably for the period. The suit he wears is in brown herringbone, tailored properly to fit neatly and -- importantly -- allow him to move about dynamically if he needs to. The buttons on vest and jacket both stand out for bearing the clover motif that he seems to sprinkle through his outfits and accessories, and rather than a pocket hankerchief he is wearing a rather unusual pin with that same clover emblem. He's also not nearly committed enough to the presentation not to retain his extremely long hair, though it has been both braided and put up in a bun, so the overall look is neat-but-eccentric. These little oddities aside, it's still just rather hard to blend in when you're as huge as Einar is.

Whoever ends up sitting next to him in the car is going to be crowded a little, though he does his best to minimize it.

He is visibly attentive during the explanation on the way in, and though a moment passes in which there is a perturberance in his expression suggesting a question he decides not to ask -- tiny, almost imperceptible unless somebody is particularly looking for his reactions -- he more-or-less remains quiet but animatedly observant.

"You may well be particularly suited to this," he asides to Riku, genially. "You have the right idea already. Whether the crowd is reasonable enough..."

He's not certain of that yet.

It's Regulus that his attention drifts towards, though. Before they get too far along on the ride, he asides to her, "It has been some time. I have something for you, when we aren't involved in other business."

Which is all he has to say about it, in the moment.

Getting out of the car is slightly awkward for him -- only slightly -- but it probably works to his advantage when it comes to approaching some worked-up ruffians, because Einar really does not look like he belongs in that car, he looks like something that the car loses in an impact with.

He sizes up the ruffians and scans the surroundings, locating where their jackets had been left and the matching probable clothing size to individual. Lifting one of the jackets up, he approaches its wearer from behind and lifts it in offering.

"The vanguard often experiences the worst casualties, sir. At present, it seems to me that you're outflanked, and there's no one at your back. Allow me to return your coat to you and send you away as a guest, rather than as a vanguard, and you may try again if it pleases you," he offers.
Odette Raskins One of the Watch Elites responding to Vertin's summons today is Odette Raskins, carrying case packed with medical supplies hanging off her right arm while her left hand fiddles with a PDA. There's a lot to see in even this brief time at the St. Pavlov Foundation's Chicago branch, and she's not about to squander the opportunity to get a bit of information on what she's seeing and hearing right in the lobby.

She doesn't really like what she's hearing just from that exchange between Vertin, Sonetto, and the branch official up front. Still, she's just here to be the extra help should things get worse than they need to be, so she'll leave the talking to Vertin and then Sonetto.

"Sounds like the Sothebeese really are big shots around here...  Did you notice how quick he changed his tune there?" Odette asks in a low whisper on the way to the car, waiting until she's out of earshot from that branch official to do so. "Still, you'd think he'd take us seriously without having to bring up a name like that."

Waiting to get in after everyone else does, Odette's going to slide into pretty much any 'seat' she can squeeze herself into. She does try to keep her eye on the doors, though, like she's half-expecting the car to crash and to need to start pulling people out.

She's also sneaking little glances at Einar every now and then, but she dares not actually sit near him.

On the way through the city, Odette finally learns how to say Sothebys properly after hearing Vertin. She feels her cheeks burning some as she realizes how many times she's messed that up, but that fades relatively soon as the briefing continues. "Are people here that easy to rile up? Sounds like we've got a lot on our plates, then... B-but I've got plenty of meds and sedatives ready on me, and plenty of stuff to mix up some more. I just hope-"

Odette sees the mob outside of the fence, and she lets out an anxious noise from the back of her throat. She winces each time she hears something hit the car, and she scrunches up in her seat when it gets shaken around from the outside. Part of her looks like she really really wants to bail out, and and the other part of her doesn't want to ever leave the safety of the car.

She can't even enjoy the sights of the manor as things are, although she still takes some shaky misspelled notes along the way. The unicorn and rabbit statues get particular notice, but the size of the place doesn't quite catch her attention the same way everything else does.

"There's already some people inside of the gates. Oh boy. And... Hnn. W-we're supposed to get all of these people to calm down? Mister Riku getting big should help, yeah... I don't know if I have enough on me to get even a tenth of them treated if fighting really does break out." Odette murmurs anxiously, stepping out of hte car and taking a deep breath to steady herself just ike she was trained to. If she can't be calm on the inside, she can at least be calm on the outside, just like she was taught in the Trideag training from not so long ago.

"... Good evening, mister. Thank you for having us." She greets the butler with a well-practiced calm in her tone, nodding once while making srue her gaze is fixed squarely on him and not the rioters nor the 'ratty goons'. "IF anyone's hurt, can they be brought inside? If not, I can .. Come back out, too." She asks/suggests, still speaking with that unnaturally even and practiced tone to the butler before heading for the door. She nods lightly in greeting to the bouncers, too, and only allows herself to exhale once she's inside out of sight of the... Rioters?

No, she barely even looked at them. Instead, she waits until the doors close to finally breathe normally again. Once inside, she finally notices that music, then shrugs lightly at Regulus. "Could be a party, if we can hear it all the way from here. I didn't see a lot of cars or horses outside, though. Unless... Maybe people liked walking a lot more back th-er. Here?"
Tamamo     '...aren't you a little young?'

    "Oho, commenting upon a woman's youthful appearance is... not what is occuring here, you do understand? What may be a compliment in other circumstances is not always so. Rather, please remember that it is best to save such words for those who feel a bit uneasy in their years, and you will be known as a man of compassion."

    Tamamo, arriving just in time to give advice of no tactical relevance, has made an attempt to appear less remarkably foreign for the 1920s. The long, black-sashed dress in her usual dark blues and high heels are of an appropriate style for evening wear, even more obvious by the fabric's gloss, and she's put her hair up so as to give an impression as closely approximating a flapper's bob as she can get without the unthinkable step of actually cutting anything short. Simply not having beads and pearls available, her jewelry remains golden. Overall, it's of questionable efficacy even before reaching matters of ears and tails, but she appeared moderately proud of it while showing Lilian beforehand.

    'If the riot passes the fence, then we're to use the minimum violence necessary to prevent them from entering the building.'

    This, of all aspects of the situation, is what causes Tamamo to raise her brow. "Is evacuation out of the question, then? I would think it the swiftest option to protect the lives of those involved."

    After a bit, she adds, in reply to an earlier line, "It may be helpful to know, beforehand, whether there... are elements of the accusations not related to false plants by the Manus Vindictae. Stepping into a dispute without knowing the natures of those involved is rather difficult."

    'I don't like that they're using civilians to do this either...'

    "Be prepared for their faithful disciples to be mixed and hidden among the crowd, Asakura-san."

    The house itself is eclectic, like a brutalist built a fortress in a series of stacks...

    "Well, now." The folding fan Tamamo uses for half-covering her face has a festively fuzzy rim, today.

    ...there seems to be a dim party going on, with extremely muffled loud phonographic record of tuba-led swing band and crying violin.

    "No readiness for an evacuation, I suppose." Tamamo resists sighing, but her tone still sounds like it.

    'If you'd come inside, my staff can handle this sorry collection of drunks.'

    "Well, now, if you are quite certain everything is well in hand, I should be glad to meet our hosts all the sooner." Tamamo says that, but she puts her arm around Lilian's on getting out, and looks to her, near-silently whispering, "They trust in their own defenses a bit too much for having been already breached, no? The opponents have plans and planners. It cannot be so simple. The walls are long, too. Laying a ward without aid would take a great deal of time."
Lilian Rook     'Iiiiiii just don't know; aren't you a little young? I'd rather talk with your boss first, come back with a letter from him.'

    §God I hate these people. It's like going back in time to when I first started at Arx Zenith, but like, infinitely more stupid.§

    Sonetto's successful 'negotiation' for the car keeps Lilian from having to slide in and politely inform the gentleman that Vertin asked for no pickles. Even though she'd just got there, she still leaves with giving him a Look. It has a certain effect, given that, after going back and forth on her divinations, and strongly considering the seriousness of the situation outlined to her versus her personal desires and safeguards, Lilian reluctantly decided on continuing to wear her 'Foundation ally' outfit; the second time in Chicago and the third time in general.

    It won't do to get spooked by the idea after last time. There are many kinds of armour, and this is one.

    'Apologies for the delay, everyone.'

    "Think nothing of it." Lilian says, then pivots to "It isn't yours to apologize for." as part of the same one-two. "I've about this much of an opinion of American bureaucracy in particular anyways." Ordinarily, this would be a little bit British of her, but she might be excused this time, considering what her most recent experience in the United States was. There's some residual hesitance to even get into a car about her, now. She has to look at Vertin again to verify they're still here before she'll get in; like Vertin is a ward against trashy disaster.

    She settles in well enough. Without a suitcase, she simply places her messenger bag beside her on the one side, and props up her sheathed sword on the other. Wearing it openly is an unsubtle statement, but a few other things besides. She has her arm draped around it over the entire ride.

    'The Sothebys are a family of arcanists, specializing in alchemy, who have risen to prominence and accrued wealth in America and worldwide.'

    A small, Matildoid part of her is excited to meet an arcanist family, beyond just the SPDM's orphans and eccentrics. Lilian straightens up to listen.

    'Ever since the murders of the those men in Moran's gang, the sentiment of human extremists in the city has rapidly shifted to perceive all arcanists as a threat against their way of life, and the Sothebys, prominent as they are, as the puppetmasters of arcanist manipulations against civilization.'

    "Oh my god." Lilian quietly murmurs. In tones of barely-humorous disbelief, mingled with distaste, she says to herself, "My shitty parents always told me this day would come. I can't believe it."

    'Protecting the manor itself is part of our mission. If the riot passes the fence, then we're to use the minimum violence necessary to prevent them from entering the building.'

    "Naturally." Lilian says. "This isn't my first time doing this sort of work." That's mostly true, but her experience with holding the wall versus an angry and unreasonable mob has previously been very miserable. Hopefully it'll go better when the crowd considers her unilaterally against them, and hasn't seen a viral video of her shooting a cop in the leg out of anger.

    "My main question," she says, considerably less effortful in her affected neutrality, "Is what status we, from offworld, are commanding in this situation. Are we officially representing the Saint Pavlov Foundation? In the case that our actions are subject to their approval and reflect upon their policy, I'd rather hope that we retain the ability to wield their authority at our discretion. In the other case, I'd also rather like to believe that they won't be so ghoulish as to be picky about our methods."
Lilian Rook     Strangely enough, when the situation is decidedly un-social like this, Lilian's ability to conceal all traces of unproductive emotion is staggeringly high. A couple of years ago, this used to be her default. 'Purposefully maintaining the mental stance where emoting is instinctive' is newer to her. Time will tell how long that lasts, given the attitude of the mob.

    'Allow me.'

    "Thank you, Sonetto."

    . . . . . . . .

    The mansion is hardly what she was expecting, but Lilian can easily attribute it's uncommonly dour and utilitarian demeanour as a necessity of living in a city, and its fantastical embellishments as a vehement measure to recapture the spirit of its purpose rather than ceding to hiding it from view. It's all completely made up conjecture, but Lilian believes, at least, that it tells her plenty about the lives of those who live here; and thus the struggle they now face.

    'You know, love, it feels real strange to be stopping a riot over an incredibly wealthy family.'

    "I'm sorry, did I mishear you?" Lilian says to Regulus. "Do we only care about poor arcanists now? You're from the sixties; surely you're aware of the Holocaust, or the Tulsa Massacre." Lilian chides with all the power of someone who looked up facts about those literally this year. She has no sense whatsoever about whether those are appropriate to bring up here, but 'arcanist' sure is a 'race' in this world, so that's good enough for her to be sanctimonious.

    'A bunch of arcanists showing up to protect the Sothebys might make that more likely rather than less.'

    "Even if they attempt to escalate, I won't let them do anything. They're safer." Lilian says, firmly. The reassurance is partly for Tamamo's sake, though surely she knows better than anyone not to fret about anything while in the same postal code as her. At least not anything involving physical danger, at least.

    'Is evacuation out of the question, then? I would think it the swiftest option to protect the lives of those involved.'

    "No doubt at the expense of their 'lives'." Lilian sighs. "Their home, heritage, livelihood, and everything else but their skins. I have no doubt that the mob would simply spill over the gates and ransack everything they own were they emboldened by their intended victims fleeing." She frowns, settling her chin into her palm, elbow on her knee. "Even outside of their status as donors to the Foundation, I'd rather not force them to sacrifice their dignity."

    'The walls are long, too. Laying a ward without aid would take a great deal of time.'

    After exiting the car, Lilian leans in, too. "There's no need for that. We'll disperse them soon enough. Mobs like these live and die on 'energy'. Once the group disperses, the individuals become too cowardly to pursue the effort."
Lilian Rook     A butler is a form of maid, and thus a head butler is instantly a trustworthy and noble guardian in Lilian's eyes. Being met by one facing down a crowd of goons adds to Lilian's allegiance score; next to from +5 from 'Vertin asked', +3 from 'class allies', and +2 from 'race? allies?'; a +40 staff bonus. Her alignment visibly shifts from 'stranger' to 'trusted'.

    'Gentlemen, it appears your previous maths regarding 'how things will go' will have to be re-thought, won't it?'

    Gosh he's so cool. Lilian doesn't even notice the cane, for once.

    'Piss off, old fucking man! It'd be back to more of us than your ratty goons either way!'

    "If you're still here when I come back out this door, it'll be six weeks in hospital."

    Lilian physically shoulders the random guy at the entrance with half again as much sauce as is needed, and walks past him with her hand resting on the pommel of her sword. Her pivot in attitude is so immediate that it's difficult to distinguish an intimidation intent from being dead serious. At the very least, it doesn't take a genius to read her for 'armed, straight-backed, antipathetically disinterested'. "Go home before things get bad."

    'Good evening, everyone. If you'd come inside, my staff can handle this sorry collection of drunks.'

    "I'd be delighted." Now she's smiling. Regulus is correct that this is technically counterproductive to policing outside, but Lilian is just so curious about that mansion and who lives in it.
Timekeeper "You know, love, it feels real strange to be stopping a riot over an incredibly wealthy family."

    Sonetto sits uncomfortably in the car while it slowly navigates through the crowds, uneasy and stressed by the feverish anger of the shouting that's barely muffed by the chassis. "Wealthy and well-established patrons such as the Sothebys are absolutely integral to the healthy functioning of the St. Pavlov Foundation," She informs Regulus, as if that's her issue. "Endorsements from local political and societal figures allow the Foundation to operate with minimal civilian friction."

"A bunch of arcanists showing up to protect the Sothebys might make that more likely rather than less."

    "The Chicago Police Department has already made an attempt to disperse the crowd, but they were repelled. I suspect that this is due to Manus Vindictae support." Sonetto nods, secure in her reasoning that the police definitely tried their hardest.

    Looking out the window and making eye contact with the glares from outside, Vertin adds, "I haven't noticed the use of any arcane skills or tools from the crowd so far, but it's something we'll have to watch out for."

"Is evacuation out of the question, then?"

    Vertin shakes her head slightly. "Mr. Sotheby has specifically requested that his land remain intact through this riot. If it were a matter of evacuation, it would be simple enough, but Mr. Sotheby appears to be disinclined to leave this manor to be sacked. It'd be a blow to our relationship with the family, as well as to the reputation of the Foundation, for allowing a racial conflict to escalate to the point of causing a well-established family to flee for their lives."

"Is what status we, from offworld, are commanding in this situation. Are we officially representing the Saint Pavlov Foundation?"

    Vertin nods at Lilian, silently approving of the question. "Officially, you all are field agent staff sent by headquarters to support Sonetto and I. Ideally, if you have need to wield the Foundation's authority, you'll be able to route that authority through me. If you're forced to do so on the spot by an emergency, then do so."

Once out of the car, Sonetto's glance flicks to the side towards the rioters that already infiltrated the grounds. She reaches for her wand, and Vertin isn't about to stop her from incapacitating them at once, but the butler and Einar's preemptive strikes do. Sonetto adds her voice to Einar's, as a specific rather than general government official. "The Sotheby manor grounds are now under the protection of the St. Pavlov Foundation. Please return outside the gate immediately."
Timekeeper "Good evening, everyone."

    Vertin dips the brim of her hat at the butler. "Hello, sir. Thank you for your hospitality, and my sympathies for the circumstance you're in."

"But we were sent to...help with the situation outside?"

    Ascending the stairs, Vertin reflects on Regulus's unfamiliarity with specifically this kind of work, not just because it's government authorized violence against a crowd, but for the slow methodic nature of it. "The residents know the property far better than we do, as well as being familiar with the details of the situation surrounding it. We'll devise a plan of action with the Sotheby personnel supporting us."

    "I imagine," Vertin says, for the sake of getting people back on task even though she's internally unsure whether it's true, "That the music is meant to dull the noise and soothe the stress of the mob outside the gates. It's not cause for celebration."

    Inside the house, Vertin extends her hand to the butler, but her introduction is brief and to the point. "My name is Vertin, Timekeeper of the St. Pavlov Foundation. Is there an area where Mr. Sotheby and the security staff have been tracking the crowd's movements and planning your response?"
Ein 'But we were sent to...help with the situation outside?'

The head butler pauses, and considers. "Normally this can be solved by phoning the public house somewhere comfortably within the city limits and putting several dozen meals on the house's expenses to blow over any animosity. It's not the first time a few stragglers have broken into the grounds. Do you believe it's serious?" Asks the butler, having not been out by the gate and 1928 not especially being the age of instant communication. He, genuinely, is asking Tamamo, when she inquires as to how certain he is, and Regulus, who seems to have a fairly clear idea of what's going on from a first impression.

Because...

'Is there a party going on here or is the music just to block the noise?'

Giving a 'how did you guess' look without direct verbal admittance with a monocle rattle and a visible recalculation of Regulus up another few notches, the butler presses at the door.

Lilian's assurance that the matter will be dealt with, with her air and especially sporting the flash of foundation checkers, as Sonetto does, further ensures the butler is willing to allow either professional action on behalf of the family, or, of course, entry.

The interior of the Sotheby manor's main building is a fusion of concepts due to a clear remodel from the fortress like austerity of an old time dark wood and brick walls of a large bank foyer or open laboratory space to an entry-ballroom with a large sweeping staircase. Rugs and tasseled throwcloths bring the warmth up quite a bit from the dark fixtures, golden drapes upon the interior of windows that are otherwise blacked out by layers such that only some of the interior lamplight escapes giving more color and life to the room. A grand piano sits in a corner of the room under an electric light, with a simple learner's piece upon the sheetstand, and the manor spills both 'up' and 'around' though the lights are dim on all but the first floor. A wall of bookshelves with two broad passthroughs breaks up the main foyer with a step-down into a sitting area with a long table and chairs that appears to have been set up as an impromptu dining area. All about, both in the foyer and the entry sitting area is absolutely dripping in a once again tastefully (gold) eclectic variety of busts and hanging wall pieces of mythical creatures, museum-grade pieces of art, and even several wonderfully alive indoor plants in the corners. Besides the door is a large rotary phone upon a high table made just for it to sit besides the entryway to ward away guests from trespassing farther than the front door. Mysteries always spawned when you let people explore the grounds, and the Sothebys clearly thought of such amenities in their vast wealth and remodelling to turn alchemist fortress into fashion-of-the-times.

A phonograph in the foyer plays a poppy hit loud enough to drown out the voices outside, unminded and unenjoyed as quite the cacophony happens in the sitting room.
Ein A tink and twinkle of plates and crystal pepper the air and rattle in harmony and dissonance both, the wonder of precarious passion and excitement aflutter in only the most 'what have you got there??' (worried) fashions. A swish of green skirts and white coats and the whisk of a feather passes like a stalking beast between the bookshelf-dividers, leading along a somehow-floating parade of glasses on precariously pattering broad silver tray, and then, a head tilts around the corner to see people at the door. Bright of eyes and framed by the swaying crescent of a truly fine emerald hat over green-blonde hair affixed to her head with a generously tailing orange bow tied at cheek with what must be a fortune in fine-shining pearls. Fresh flowers fall from within and crest from atop her marvelous headpiece, and the rest of her outfit - and the fine little lady wearing it - is no less fine than her favorite headwear. With a wide-mouthed gasp and a long-gloved hand brought to mouth to hide her ladylike surprise, the youth becomes alerted to the presence of Guests. She at least, of course, sees--

"Mister Karson! Mister Karson!" Bounces the twinkling-eyed youth, still leaning just her bust out from besides the bookcase. "-Is that our guests?" Curiousity blooms fully into excitement with a bright spring. "Have they all arrived for the party?" She lifts the last word in singsong, the sound inside almost drowned out by the music in turn. A precarious balance.

'Mr. Karson', the head butler, turns from being slightly framed in the door to turning back to the ongoing Four Goons at the door to the developing young master situation within and looks up (and up) at Einar, actually shocked at how tall the Scandinavian-esuqe man is and harrumphing to return to his proper station and posture.

"Well, yes," He tries to split the difference...

While the man being offered his coat by Einar winds up near to swing a fist, definitely the most drunk of the entire group, and is actually held back by one of his comrades, who understands that even if the Chicago Prohibition Enjoyer's Club President of their fieriest member might want that smoke, the rest *might not*. The calculus has certainly turned against them.

But can you get them gone without alerting the local Foundation backer? Who seems to be under a very particular impression of what's going on outside?

Which is Definitely Not an angry riot?
Riku Asakura 'You may well be particularly suited to this,'

"You think..?" Riku asks Einar, but with the follow-up comment, he nods.  His body is large and can take a lot of damage.  However, Smash Moon Healing might also give them an edge if things turn violent.  Especially if Manus is fanning the flames magically.  "I'll do my best."

'Mister Riku getting big should help, yeah...'

"I'll do my best, Miss Odette!" he says brightly to Odette, ready to do what he needs to do.  

'Be prepared for their faithful disciples to be mixed and hidden among the crowd, Asakura-san.'

"Right, Miss Tamamo.  It seems likely that's what they'll do," Riku agrees with Tamamo.  They'll likely have people inserted in the crowd to rile them up, or outright cause violence where there wasn't any violence before.  

'Mister Karson! Mister Karson!'

Riku looks towards this young, mysterious child who is calling her butler Mr. Karson rather than anything else.  She seems more interested in a party than whatever is happening outside, which explains the music twice over.  He looks towards the Butler, wondering how long he was going to leave her in the dark for.  

On the other hand, he can understand the desire to keep his charge safe from the realities of life sometimes.  However, life comes hard and fast sometimes.  He kneels to put his head on even terms with the young girl and speaks to her plainly.  "Hello!  I'm Riku Asakura, it's nice to meet you!" He says brightly and gives her a bright smile.  
Regulus ''It has been some time.''

During the ride over, Regulus looks at Einar for a moment. He definitely stands out now but at the time, actually, she...and Einar... didn't actually interact all that much?? She has no idea he took her ship and doesn't actually really recognize him now, what feels like lifetimes after he first visited their world, but the good news is that Regulus is a pirate that can lie and definitely a pirate that can pretend she remembers someone when it means she'll get a ''something'' out of it. Regulus loves receiving mysterious items more than she loves receiving items she knows about so this is a pretty exciting thing for her to hear.

"Oh sure, you know my address." Regulus tells him. Then realizes that maybe he doesn't? "It's the suitcase." She asides to him. "Good to talk to you properly." She is pretty sure she hasn't even had an improper talk with this guy before. She rubs at her neck a bit because looking up at his face is actually straining it.

''Surely you're aware of the Holocaust''

"I...was alive during the Holocaust." Regulus tells Lilian. "I'm just saying it feels weird, I know what the situation is." She also referenced Tulsa not too long ago but she wasn't alive during Tulsa so she doesn't comment about that. "I don't really remember the Blitz too well, though, since I was real little."

''Endorsements from local political and societal...''

"Oh, well, hope it all goes alright then." Regulus manages at Sonetto. This isn't exactly even untrue, she just isn't quite sure how to respond to a comment like that in response to a comment like hers. "If necessary I can make 'em poof into thin air." Which probably wouldn't save the money but the real stuff's probably in banks and such right?

r'Could be a party, if we can hear it all the way from here.''

"I actually figured it was mostly to keep the noise of 'mob' out." Regulus admits to Odette. "But I guess we'll find out soon." She pauses. "I don't know about it being ''that'' easy to rile up. A bunch of people did get murdered, ya know."

''We'll devise a plan of action with the Sotheby personnel supporting us.''

"Well I'm not gonna argue." She nods at Vertin's analysis of the music, indicating her agreement even though she already said she figured that was the reason. She even jerks a thumb at her. This is because Regulus knows that you have to visibly and noisily support your captain so nobody cant front on them.

''Do you believe it's serious?''

"Well I don't know if it's serious just yet. They threw some stuff but they aren't busting through the gate..." Regulus admits to the butler. "I don't think a show of generosity would hurt. People are less angry when they've got a warm meal in them."

Regulus knows from experience that cracking a few skulls rarely helps matters--in fact, sometimes the goal of a protest is to get the authorities to overreact and lend credence to your cause!--but it is hard to think from the other side of the mob. She IS pretty sure food won't hurt though. Some gifts when chosen carelessly could make things worse, she's sure, but everybody loves free food.
Regulus ''Mister Karson! Mister Karson!''
''Have they all arrived for the party?''

Regulus slowly gives Vertin a look but this is a kid. She probably was just told that it was a party to keep her calm, who would tell a kid that a mob mad at her outside.

"Mhm! Right you are, love!" She tells the youth. "I'm Regulus, the one with the impressive hat is Vertin, and this reliable lady," She nods to Sonetto. "Is Miss Sonetto! OH! And I'm Regulus, genius alchemist and rock'n'roll pirate. Did you pick the music? I love the melody."
Einar "I was armored, and we didn't have much to do with one another at the time that we intersected. There is always the future," Einar reassures Regulus, evidently picking up on her covered-up uncertainty-- or just having a good enough memory to know that he was exaggerating when he implied they'd really met.

He glances at Lilian amidst tensions with the ruffians, but he doesn't move from his current posture or approach. The look itself is some form of communication-- though his damnable distance makes it impossible to simply read it off of him. It's probably reasonable to assume that he just doesn't intend to take an off-ramp now that the situation has changed in a way that makes it awkward to do so.

To Riku, he smiles faintly.

"Collect the other coats, would you? We'll see this lot back to their friends, and come back to say hello to the young miss," he says, tucking the coat he picked up beneath his elbow and circling to the front of the pack of goons. He advances on them -- particularly on the man they're holding back -- and says, "Now, friends, I'm from out of town-- as is the young man I've just asked to fetch your coats. Tell me about your grievances, but let's have a walk while you do. You seem passionate about your city-- you must have plenty to tell us."

Presently, Einar is standing in the way. He's a Lot of person to see the ongoing problem around, and he is moving forward. There's not, physically, a particularly good way to continue without walking into him deliberately.

It is not clear that he could be moved by four men.
Lilian Rook     'It'd be a blow to our relationship with the family, as well as to the reputation of the Foundation, for allowing a racial conflict to escalate to the point of causing a well-established family to flee for their lives.'

    Humu humu. Vertin understands. Lilian is perfectly satisfied now. "It'd completely undermine all confidence in the idea that the Foundation stands for the safety of arcanists if we just shrugged and told them to run for their lives from racial supremacists."

    'Officially, you all are field agent staff sent by headquarters to support Sonetto and I. Ideally, if you have need to wield the Foundation's authority, you'll be able to route that authority through me. If you're forced to do so on the spot by an emergency, then do so.'

    "Concise and informative as always. I'll be certain to consider my options accordingly."

    'I...was alive during the Holocaust.'

    "Oh." Lilian says, followed inexplicably by "Baffling." Then, "So my point stands."

    'I don't really remember the Blitz too well, though, since I was real little.'

    Lilian stares. "I've heard about it from my mother." That's so unnecessary to say. Oh god Reglus is so old in her mind now.

    'A bunch of people did get murdered, ya know.'

    "Gangsters. Nobody would bat an eye if they were shot dead by the police." Lilian scowls faintly.

    She looks back at Einar in the shared moment, but only seems to search is face, not quite sure what to intuit from him out of a short list of options. Hm.

    'Do you believe it's serious?'

    Lilian isn't strictly asked, but, "I believe they think they're serious. If they stay for long despite the Foundation's presence, however, then they're a deeply unserious bunch, and will be dealt with appropriately." Much like the butler pronouncing 'gentlemen' like 'reprobates', Lilian says 'deeply unserious' like 'beneath consideration'.

    Oh but it's all so nice on the inside. Her private, half-articulated thought as to the intents and feelings of the architects feels shockingly validated. Lilian thinks to herself that, in a certain way, the Sotheby Manor represents something like another side to the same coin as her own family house; a different way of living, in a different time, under different circumstances, with a similar sense of pride and aspiration; one she'd only ever been able to romantically intuit from relatives who died before she was born. It's entrancing and melancholy at the same time, to look around at the busts and bookshelves and gorgeous--

    'Have they all arrived for the party?'

    "Oh my goodness aren't you precious." Lilian says, very, very quietly. A moment later, whisper-muttered, "Jesus Christ that's a lot of pearls. I'm starting to feel downright humble."

    'Well, yes,'

    Lilian looks at Mister Karson and Frowns. It's strangely easy to read, for a domestic servant. "Will the young lady's parents be joining us?" she says, by particular way of implication. Cecilia never lied to her like that. Hmph.

    Still, proceding on . . . "Dame Commander Lilian Rook. As you can likely intuit, I'm here with the Saint Pavlov Foundation as well. Charmed." Even if she has to imply it more than actually do it, with a skirt that is certainly not down to her ankles, Lilian at least gestures at a curtsy in the young lady of the house's direction. That habit doesn't get to wear off when it's necessary every few months back home. Looking back at Vertin for something akin to direction, she says "Do you think we should post someone at the grounds outside, just in case?"
Odette Raskins "or the Tulsa Massacre."

Odette jabs another note into her PDA to look it up sometime later. When she does, she will not be very happy, but she'll understand the reference going forward.

"Is evacuation out of the question, then?"

"Worst case scenario, maybe, but... I don't know. It feels like that'd just make the humans that want them out feel more... Justified? About messing with arcanists just because they don't like arcanists and then getting rewarded for it." Odette comments after Tamamo, sounding somewhat troubled to be saying that even though her mind can't quite articulate why just yet.

She puffs up just a bit at hearing Lilian's reply as well, gaining just a bit of a morale boost that might help her through the coming hours, too. Vertin confirms that the job is to keep them on the manor, too, and that helps Odette center where her head should be at today: "Holding the defense and settling everyone down, not just keeping the Sothebys alive... Okay. Good. Thank you, Miss Vertin."

"it'll be six weeks in hospital."

She opens her mouth, pauses, then forces down the wave of relief from being given implicit permission to not have to treat those four in particular. The hospital can handle it if they stay!

"several dozen meals on the house's expenses to blow over any animosity"
"People are less angry when they've got a warm meal in them."

"Normally... S-so this has happened before? And that worked?" As Odette asks that, she's already considering it and nodding slowly to the head butler and Regulus. "No, that makes sense... Being hungry WOULD make people a lot more irritable. Some extra food to get them settled down sure could help, yeah. Er. Yes. That's a lot of dozens for a group this size, though..."

Heading deeper inside, Odette's eyes widen slightly at how wonderfully warm the inside of the building feels and looks just walking into it. Even though the luxury and art on display are far above and beyond what she's used to, there's a distinct quality of life inside that she doesn't feel nearly as stressed out as she did on the way in.

Not hearing all the noise outside probably helps.

"Have they all arrived for the party?"

Instead, Odette gets to hear a new voice piping chiming in, and that voice helpfully gives her the head butler's name! Blink-blinking in momentary confusion at the question, the EMT starts putting several things together in her head: This girl might not know what's going on outside yet. Should she? It'd be safer if she did, but if she's anything like the other eccentric rich people Odette's seen and heard about...

Maybe it'd be a bad idea to hit her with it right away. Riku and Regulus already seem to be on the same page there, and Odette breaks into a slightly more relaxed, but still somewhat nervous smile that is most certainly the smile of someone that's just awkward in crowds rather than someone that's worried about whatever that Definitely Is Not going on outside.

"Th-that's right! My name's Odette. I'm here to make sure everyone stays healthy during the party, even if they get party a little too hard and-" She introduces herself with a light wave, pausing briefly as she remembers that Prohibition exists in this era, and also she isn't sure how old this Mystery Girl is. "-eat too much. What do you have on the menu today, miss?"
Tamamo     'Do you believe it's serious?'

    "Fairly so, I fear!" Tamamo sounds a bit too chipper to be using words like 'fear.' "At the least, the crowd we passed were throwing rocks, and might have tried to push over the car if we had not Ms. Sonetto to guard us." Due praise should be dispensed promptly.

    Approaching to add, conspiratorially, "The police are unable to handle the crowd. We rather suspect outside agitators. Would a determined opponent leave matters to chance, or would they prepare some way to ensure their plans smoothly progress? With this in mind, we should exercise due caution, for which I shall appreciate an accounting of the ground's outer defenses."

    Stepping back to normal conversational distances, "Oh, my, where are my manners? Please, call me Tamamo."

    'They threw some stuff but they aren't busting through the gate...'

    Yet.

    'Once the group disperses, the individuals become too cowardly to pursue the effort.'

    "This is true, for the largest part," Tamamo says to Lilian, but... "Still, I cannot help but feel unease, when we lack sight of both the opposing moves and goals." She's too disposed to 'planning,' herself, to think a mystery opponent isn't preparing a trap. She'd be concerned about that if it wasn't a magical cult. (But it is! It is literally that.)

    While the man being offered his coat by Einar winds up near to swing a fist, definitely the most drunk of the entire group...

    A problem with a number of clear solutions, but one that springs to mind for Tamamo. Several, actually, spring to mind, but only one of these is so perfectly natural that she can't help but decide on it.

    Stepping forward to the apparent Boss Punk, Tamamo reaches into her purse, and pulls out a slip of paper with red and black ink scrawled over it. She offers it with a smile, only half-relying on the common instinct of people to reach for things offered directly to them, and presses it against the punk's arm.

    It's a purification charm. It will only take a few seconds to detoxify the lucky man, progressing straight from 'filled with alcohol' to the starting line of 'hung over.' "Remember, now. Drink plenty of water!"

    Making her escape by smartly dodging around to the other side of Einar, Tamamo enters the manor.

    "Oh, my."

    'Have they all arrived for the party?'
    'Oh my goodness aren't you precious.'
    'Dame Commander Lilian Rook. As you can likely intuit, I'm here with the Saint Pavlov Foundation as well. Charmed.'

    "Likewise, I am Tamamo-no-mae. Ah, you may call me 'Tamamo,' as well. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. It is only my... mm, is it my fourth visit to the States, now?"

    Coming in closer to examine the golden artwork and floating dinnerware and -- oh, this isn't actually a dining room, is it? Why this room, then?

    "I," giving her fan one more flutter before snapping it shut, "love your hat. Simply stunning, and the flowers lend so well to the down-to-earth feeling, as a 'natural' finery. Do you garden?"
Timekeeper "Do you believe it's serious?"

    Vertin closes her eyes for a moment. "I take it that Mr. Sotheby isn't in, then?"

    Suddenly, this is much more complicated. There's not likely to be much assistance from the Sotheby staff, compared to the obstacles that convincing them to mobilize will present, and it's impossible for anyone at all to be blamed for this. It's just more work for Vertin to navigate on her own. And then on top of that....

"Mister Karson! Mister Karson!"

    Vertin blinks, and then nods at the little Sotheby, mustering as positive an expression as she can given the circumstances. "Oh, hello. You must be our host, then?" She bows slightly, holding her hat in place. "Thank you kindly for so graciously welcoming us into your home, Miss Sotheby. Is there somewhere you'd like for us to go for the party?"

    Vertin turns aside to the group, talking quietly and quickly. "I wasn't informed that this era's Sothebys had a daughter. We'll have to ensure that she doesn't panic, while the rest of us manage the crowd outdoors."

"I'm Regulus, the one with the impressive hat is Vertin,"

    "My own hat hardly compares to hers," Vertin says, for Sotheby's benefit but with a faint smile that's growing more sincere. "Are you expecting any other guests?"

    With a sharp glance out of the corner of her eyes, Vertin delegates to Sonetto wordlessly, hoisting her suitcase and moving away from the entrance so Sotheby isn't drawn any closer to the door. Sonetto, on the other hand, is not down to party at all, because the four people within the gates are barely a fraction of the numbers outside. A comfortable underestimation puts the Elites outnumbered a hundred to one, even if the opposition is made up of purely civilians without Manus support.

    With Sotheby distracted, Sonetto is still rigidly in her soldier's stance and attitude towards Karson. "It is quite serious. These people are only a small number of those gathered outside your property, which the Foundation places estimates at between two and five thousand. There has been an organized effort to direct a violent mob at your doorstep, with possible assistance from an extremist terrorist organization. But please do not overly fear."

    Sonetto nods firmly, hand to her chest in the Foundation salute. "The riot shall be diffused swiftly with your cooperation. May the peace be with us."

"Do you think we should post someone at the grounds outside, just in case?"

    It's Sonetto that responds in Vertin's place, momentarily taking up the mantle of captain when it comes to riot control. "I consider it likely that the gate will be breached within the coming hour without interference. As per the St. Pavlov Foundation Guidelines to Ethical and Effective Riot Suppression, we will need to preemptively form barricades and choke points to limit the numerical advantage of the crowd, positioning ourselves in formation to prevent their advance. Local security personnel should be utilized as lookouts and information relays unless permitted by their supervisor to engage directly, in which case they will be under my command."

    Sonetto spins her glasfeder between her white-gloved fingers with a serious expression, leaving a short swirl of glittering light in its wake. "In optimal circumstances we would have equipment from Laplace to nullify the psychological effects of mob mentality. Miss Tamamo, is that something you are capable of doing? Mister Karson, are there materials that Mister Riku could use to assemble barricades?"
Lilian Rook     'Still, I cannot help but feel unease, when we lack sight of both the opposing moves and goals.'

    Lilian lowers her voice just so much that Sotheby can't hear; Karson is fifty fifty. "While that may be true, I can't imagine any state of the board that would convince me to allow five hundred drunk and angry men to storm into a child's house and lynch her. Beg pardon for wording it so strongly, but I think it's important not to lose sight of what is at stake here." She casts an especial glare at Regulus and her filthy working class solidarity (does a rock and roll pirate even count as blue collar? questions for later).

    'I love your hat. Simply stunning'

    Lilian perks up. A new quest is added to her journal: Buy Tamamo a really nice hat.

    'I wasn't informed that this era's Sothebys had a daughter. We'll have to ensure that she doesn't panic, while the rest of us manage the crowd outdoors.'

    "She doesn't seem terribly difficult to keep calm, for what it's worth." Lilian says. It sounds like she's trying to remain positive.

    'It is quite serious. These people are only a small number of those gathered outside your property, which the Foundation places estimates at between two and five thousand.'

    Well. That was considerably over even Lilian's estimate. She glances Sonetto's way, but doesn't say anything just yet. There's something striking yet difficult to articulate about how she adjusts her posture; is it her footing? Her center of gravity? Or maybe it's just the feeling of alertness in her eyes.

    That's not really a number Lilian wants to deal with while keeping her sword sheathed.

    'I consider it likely that the gate will be breached within the coming hour without interference. As per the St. Pavlov Foundation Guidelines to Ethical and Effective Riot Suppression'

    "By those guidelines, Sonetto, would you politely inform us all of what usage of arcanum is permitted against the crowd both before and after they escalate to break and entry." Lilian says, taking her Trídéag Director tone. "I somewhat doubt that the population will look particularly more unfavourably on the Sothebies than they already do for the use of arcanum in defense of their property, as opposed to physical force, but I would prefer to please the Saint Pavlov Foundation board by cleaving to any regulations that may exist regarding particular classifications of magic where possible."

    '"In optimal circumstances we would have equipment from Laplace to nullify the psychological effects of mob mentality. Miss Tamamo, is that something you are capable of doing?'

    Lilian also looks Tamamo's way. She is absolutely angling at a duo effort to brainwash a mob into calming down and leaving. Three nickels is kind of weird, but having done it twice before means she's fairly certain it will work.
Tamamo     'While that may be true, I can't imagine any state of the board that would convince me to allow five hundred drunk and angry men to storm into a child's house and lynch her.'

    Ghastly! Tamamo whispers back to Lilian, "Of course not! I mean only that we should be wary of something more dangerous than a crowd with only stones to throw." Though a few thousand stones is, both historically and in these modern times, fairly dangerous to even armed individuals.

    'Miss Tamamo, is that something you are capable of doing?'

    "I can take a crowd's attention, if it is only that. I and Lilian have done so before, though I am... unsure as to whether any of the dances I know are appropriate to the time and place." She is completely serious.

    "If you require something that will operate by another's hand, and can be accomplished quickly, I have a few items for befuddling a crowd's senses, and a great number of labyrinth talismans." Tamamo shows Sonetto a different pair of paper strips from her purse, demonstrating by way of angling them in the air near one another. "Align them so, and then activate the array, and they will form a wall that one will simply not think to pass. Would you like some?"
Ein Lilian bowls right past the crowd of goons, threatening to destroy them utterly if they're still there after the party. Some of them are rattled, and others try to take a counterattack but are afflicted with the Weakness debuff, and so little comes of it but puffery -- especially when Einar fully steps in to interpose. Considering the Foundation reinforcements arriving in a Foundation car rolled through the front gate in a show of force and arcanum strength (where the good solid steel of the car would have shown them what-for as well), the ebb of the energy of the riot happened as soon as someone actually dispatched a car...

And at the same time, you cannot discount that this was a probe. All estimations of actors within the crowd might be true, as the Manus drew sympathizers of all kinds, and it wouldn't take much to rile up a crowd to go wander over to the rich arcanists who might feed you to go away.

Which is another problem, as well - certainly the manor was defended but the surge in anti-arcanist sentiment put heavy stress onto defenses most useful for deflecting small groups of drunks and securing lavish parties, not full blown march-outs from the city.

When they got here, the gate had been unlocked in the night, and loose stragglers moved aimlessly through the compound. How many determined actors slipped in when they were let in?

Is there room to be worried? Mr. Karson is a healthy skeptic of the threat, but he might not have a clear mind of the danger posed. He wears no Foundation pin but serves backers of the Foundation and is clearly relieved at the Foundation's outreach to his needs...

Would the security men have been able to handle things? Would Karson have to use that cane he put his weight on? It's clear, at least, the effect the combination of Lilian and Einar and the foundation splash on the car does after Sonetto and Vertin went through the racism trouble of getting the car and everything: the coatless men waver, retreating further, swept up by Einar talking and walking as he goes.

"The problem with this city is these greedy--!" the head drunk declares, as he's escorted away, before Tamamo inflicts her most violent curse upon the prohibition-era drunk and banishes him BAC to health. Now sober, sick in a new and unique way thanks to the sun's power, and ready to talk Riku and Einar's ear off about every curmudgeonly grievance they have and get real talk 'hard truths' (explicit repeated slurs at high volume) about what's happening in Chicago, the undrunks are shoved off. If walked all the way to the gate, a few of the security personnel in sweaters are trying to get people to disperse back but promises of food don't break the bread for thousands, and everyone sort of knows it.

There's a few darker-clothed individuals with shifty hoods on and lacks of portraits (negative) but none with dripping masks or distorted features tonight in the crowds threatening to throw more rocks at and through the bars to the people trying to offer a bribe to go away. The firm hand on an escort out (and the heavy hanging threat of trying their luck all the way at the main house) sorts the situation at least at the front door of the main house with a nice scenic walk for any that participate in it -- at least one way. The way back, without all the racism.

At the manor, though...

Mr. Karson is thankful for someone at the door, speaking quietly with the group impressing upon him the serious nature of the goings-on, despite Tamamo's chipper nature. Some people are just chipper about their work!
Ein And Riku Asakura is stopped at the door before leaving and thus in a CRITICAL POSITION because he is marched on by a little miss. "Reeku Asa-koora?" She pronounces the name she's just heard like she's found a beautiful new species of tropical bird, eyes crossing for just a moment as she thinks extremely hard. "I've never heard of that sort of name before. Are you a. . ." She squints at his denim-type fashion as if discerning trait from length of cheekbone and threadcount of jean jacket. "... Son of someone who's here to see my father?" Bright chippercheer is dropped to solemn admittance, high to low like a light flicked off and much more stiff things are at work. "Father and mother are away on business, travelling for the cold months to visit business friends."

She's off bounding in a bounce of hooped skirts, followed by her 'animated' tray of drinks that rattles along in her wake.

"Wow! There's so many of you! Yippee!" She announces, unable to contain her bubbly excitement. "You must all be here for the party - you can try my new Fizzy Fairy Flutes! They'll go great to sip while you try my Extra-Original All Glazed Fried Dough-Nut. Father told me *all* about the new Russian invention, and I just *had* to try and make some. You can tell me what you think!"

As she speaks, bouncing between each person who threatens the door and certainly threatening to blow everyone's cover as Karson tries to embargo the door from being seen through as Einar moves from it, her clinking glass-tray follows up like a small terrier-dog of silver and precarious fizzy champagne flutes at about a foot and a half off the ground. The smallest, and least convenient server, nevertheless Sotheby acts like it's all the plan when she dips to gather up a drink and then offer one up right to Riku first, and then a second to Regulus. It smells - a bit like an apple cider? There's definitely something like quinine... It's probably fine.

It was only concocted by a child who was being lied to about party guests. It's probably totally safe to consume. It comes on a little tray!

"Genius alchemist?!" Pops the little lady, trying to take both of Regulus' hands, bounce up and down, spin her around, and pull every little secret from the taller Englishwoman's countenance with the tippytoe peer-in of her big soulful 'do you really mean it?' eyes. "Then you've got to try! I insist! These are the bounties I've prepared for you-"

"Young miss, you must introduce yourself..." Coughs Mr. Karson, as he gives an apologetic almost-bow of a nod towards Lilian as the seeming-head of Getting It and then Vertin upon being named the head Foundation authority.

"Hmm... Oh! That's correct! I had forgotten!" She might not do it a lot. Or, perhaps, she had become so excited she became overwhelmed. The hat she wore was overwhelming all on its own. "While my parents aren't around, I'm the lady of the house - Gwendoline Vera Sotheby, the already legen~dary alchemist!" She declares with a bright beaming smile and both hands planted on her hips.

Meanwhile, Mr. Karson balances furtive glances back towards the threateningly-forward Sotheby who is starry-eyed fawning over Regulus despite missing the question about music entirely (she did not put it on) and receiving his briefing. The number is visibly staggering.
Ein "Thousands. The entire front arc must be packed, and no free meal will fix that. Of course, the Foundation has the full cooperation of our grounds staff. Ms. Moissan said she was going to coordinate at the guardhouse - I can speak to her from our house phone and inform her that you've arrived. If you have a way to end this riot..."

Mr. Karson does not continue. There's no 'that's what we pay you for', but, one might realize exactly why wealthy arcanists support the Foundation in such a case as this.

Clattering under the tray, Sotheby's flutes shift aside as a somewhat beat-up black rabbit stuffie with long swept-back ears and a big smirky smile on its face impassive as its limbs set down the tray and start trying to walk out two flutes of Sotheby's mystery drink to Lilian and Tamamo by wobbling with cartoonish precariousness.
Riku Asakura Before moving inside, Riku gets the man's coat with Einar's prompting.  He's exposed to the hard truths of Chicago's underbelly, which are just slurs for whatever this formerly drunk man can blame his problems on, thanks to being told what his problems are by someone else.  Never mind, his problems aren't likely the arcanists here, but something closer to home that's harder to deal with.  However, Riku can't really say anything without provoking a fight, which he doesn't want to do.  

He smiles and nods at the man, looking at Einar for help with him and trying to figure out what to do about him.  It almost reminds him of when his part-time boss at home occasionally drinks too much after work, but with far more slurs than he's used to.  

At the door, he's accosted by the lady of the house, and smiles at her as she gets his name phonetically correct.  "Right! And uh... no, not quite here to visit your father, I'm here to help with the place.  With security!" he says, trying to find a good, even position between truth and lie and finding it exhausting.  

Sonetto also directs him to start setting up barricades, to which he approaches the butler to ask where the supplies for that could be, if he has any.  With that, he'll hurry along before he's trapped by the lady of the house again.  
Regulus Regulus is determined to not be in a situation where she has to claim she's a Foundation authority. In her mind, if she does THAT enough times then the paperwork is just a formality and she is just a Foundation officer. She'll do it if she's GOTTA but there's plenty of people here who can be authority figures.

''There is always the future.''

"Oh--yeah, yeah sure. Let's gab later." She isn't of course against speaking to Einar more now it's just that while Regulus love free shit she doesn't want to get into it mid-mission. Lilian will make fun fo her in front of Sonetto and Vertin and while that might be inevitable, she can at least mitigate it some. She's less concerned with the possibility of the Foundation being EMBARRASSED but she grudgingly admits to herself it wouldn't be ideal.

''I've heard about it from my mother.''

"Oh--I thought you were from way ahead in the timeline." Regulus says. She was THIS close to saying to Lilian 'So you have a mother!'. So close! But the surprise of age wins out over that.

''Nobody would bat an eye if they were shot dead by the police.''

"If a bobby clobbers an innocent man, not so many people bat an eye at that either." Regulus points out.

''My own hat hardly compares to hers.''

"Trrrue." Regulus admits to Vertin. "But it seems a bit unfair to compare." Her impression of Sotheby's hat is that if Sotheby dropped that hat on the ground it would crack the floor like Goku's training clothes.

''I consider it likely the gate will be breached within the coming hour.''

Regulus grimaces. God, she hopes that's just cynicism. This is a kid here.

''Regulus's filthy working class solidarity.''

Regulus is feeling like she's betraying the working class here a little but, like, yeah she's not really inclined to let a group of drunks lynch a kid no matter how poor they are or how wealthy the kid is. Especially not one whose parents left behind for the riot??? Okay sure, maybe they were already out of town but the Foundation was expecting them to be around and would presumably be aware of business trips!!

Or maybe not since it seems they are indeed just away on business. Come on, Foundation!! Maybe this is just the product of hearing about this disaster in the making last minute, she tells herself.

Regulus gets a drink, her gaze slightly distant as she didn't expect to be in this situation when she woke up this day and didn't expect to be in this situation five minutes ago either. She glances over to Sonetto to make sure she's not being observed before downing the fizzy beverage all in one series of gulps before hiding the glass behind her back.

''These are the bounties I've prepared for you-''

Regulus drops said glass when Sotheby seizes her hands, forcing APPLe to dive to save the glass. He holds the glass close to--well he doesn't have a nose, but you can hear a faint 'sniff' from the APPLe as he smells the apple cider and--

He goes a bit pale, slowly drifting towards Sonetto who will surely protect him from being juiced while Regulus is occupied.

"Nice to meet you, legendary alchemist lady Sotheby...!" It's even odds whether or not she's playing along or just completely believes Sotheby is a legendary alchemist. She thinks for a moment that Sotheby might be an ideal person to test the nature of Forget-Me-Not's drinks but then she discards it because that feels irresponsible so she puts it out of mind. "I'd love to hear more about your inventions, what's the occassion for the party?" Not that there needs to be one in Regulus's mind but there probably is one in this case right?

"Ahm... my name is APPLe, Lady Sotheby." APPLe adds, but decidedly within the range of Sonetto's protection.
Timekeeper "By those guidelines, Sonetto, would you politely inform us all of what usage of arcanum is permitted against the crowd both before and after they escalate to break and entry."

    Sonetto is much more comfortable with a different kind of party from Sotheby's, that being one where she and two other arcanists are facing off against a a small group of either faceless agitators or small furry carbuncles, each of whom are replenished by more of their same time. Proper student as she is, she fires off answers promptly and in relevance order.

    "Direct combat arcanum can never be used to initiate conflict with citizens," Sonetto explains dutifully, implying a pretty upsetting precedent. "In an urban scenario of class three danger or above, prepatory arcanum can be used in order to guide and minimize inevitable conflict by means of dispersal, deescalation, and fortifying."

    She hesitates, then forges onwards confidently. "I am certain that Miss Tamamo's charms would be classified as prepatory similarly to Mesmer technology."

"I am... unsure as to whether any of the dances I know are appropriate to the time and place."

    Not only is Tamamo serious, but Sonetto immediately takes this seriously as well. That's just how arcanum is, sometimes! "Understood. Is there more appropriate music that Mr. Karson could put on?"

[ansi(208,"And I would, thank you.")] She holds out her hands for the labyrinth charms, spreading them between her fingers to get a quick count. "Do you have more prepared? If possible, I would like to distribute them to two to three others in order to quickly cover more ground."
Odette Raskins Vertin's hat holding reminds Odette that she should take her cap off, too, and so she does! She tries straightening her hair out a bit with her hand, too, but the best she can manage is a hasty ponytail on such short notice.

"We'll have to ensure that she doesn't panic, while the rest of us manage the crowd outdoors."

"I-it's usually one or the other, right? Oh, but rich people can afford to have both..." Odette murmurs in reply to Vertin while Sotheby's busy questioning Riku. "I could sedate a bunch of them if someone else keep attention off me. Kind of worried that might be a drop in the bucket with the numbers out there, but..."

No buts. Odette inhales sharply through her nose, then nods at Vertin slowly. "I'll get it done. I'll just need to slip out and blend in, that's all." She says, trying to make it sound easy to herself so she doesn't get psyched out of doing anything.

Sonetto bringing up the actual numbers does kind of psyche Odette out a little, though. "Thou...? Um. I-I mean, I probably have enough doses for a few dozen of them, but hundreds is a little much. Unless there's a way to turn this into a gas without diluting the effect..."

What concerns her more, though, is the prediction that the gate would be breached so soon. Rubbing her head lightly as Sonetto goes on to mention barricades and choke points, ODette tries to redirect her own thinking. "Okay.... Um. I've got stuff that can keep our numbers up and running the whole time. Definitely.. Way more of that than the sedatives, so it should last us a good while even if we have to dig in a bit. But keeping them out of Miss Sotheby's hair..."

"Fizzy Fairy Flutes!" "Extra-Original All Glazed Fried Dough-Nut." "the new Russian invention,"

That's going to be a lot harder, is what Odette would say if she didn't hear Sotheby approaching with her animated tray of clinking drinks that is actually a rabbit plush serving drinks. She can't help giggling a bit at those names, reminded of a simpler time back home. "Those all sound good... Oh, is the Russian invention something to taste test, too?"

Looking down at the little server, Odette squats in place without missing a beat, taking one of those champagne flutes and only briefly wondering what's in them before taking a curious sip of the mysteriously fizzy champagne. "Oh, that's real different from the stuff back on... Home!" She can't NOT take offered food and drink, after all, even if it might be a little suspect and smells like something she sort of recalls being told shouldn't be used except for very specific purposes.

"the already legen~dary alchemist!"

Not wanting to burst Sotheby's bubble at not knowing her legend, Odette instead locks in on something else she says that piques her interest: "Alchemist? Ohhh, like mixing drinks and potions and things? That's so neat..." Chuckling lightly again, Odette pats her carrying case, and then an idea comes to mind that she recognizes as a stretch, but...

It couldn't hurt to ask, and she's genuinely curious about what Sotheby's concocted already. "Say, Miss Sotheby? Have you ever been able to make something that spreads a lot and real far without the other things in it getting weaker? Like..." She pops open her carrying case, rifles through the array of vials and bottles inside, and then she picks out one bottle decorated with a little :relieved: face sticker.

"Taking a bit of this stuff that helps people relax, and spreading it REAL wide? Like a... A whole floor, a parking lot, some way of really stretching it so everyone coming in is relaxed without having to go around ^poking everyone with needles. If you've got any pointers, I-" A pause, a snicker at the inadvertent pun, and then she continues. "-I'd be super grateful."
Einar "It is difficult," Einar remarks to Riku once they've finished their little escort, "to deal with the excesses that people put themselves through. I cannot say that I feel a great deal of sympathy in the moment... the misdirection that is occurring is... average. I mentioned you are suited to 'this', but I also mean the defense that will more than likely be necessary. Scale is useful, when dealing with this sort of circumstance."

On the way back up the drive, he pauses and waves Riku on. "Go and give my regards to the young miss, I suppose. I'm going to set up some fortifications."

He turns, twisting a hand in the air. Shields and barricades aren't much different-- and his can be either. From the outside though it must look more like flowers are blooming into existence strange patterns across the state, their bulk forming corridors and altering the terrain in a way that would be disadvantageous to anyone approaching.

Some of the clover-shaped barriers are very slightly larger-- not by a lot, but by enough that it draws the eye. What purpose that might have, however, isn't altogether clear for the moment-- though for that matter, the objects look less like barriers and more like decorations to begin with.

It's also not enough to make it moot for Riku to come out and help with setup-- it isn't the first time that Einar has seemed reluctant to implement his abilities at the fullest scale he conceivably could. So, after a short while, he turns and proceeds up the drive. When he arrives back at the door he removes his pin from his jacket and replaces it on his waistcoat, removing his jacket and draping it over one arm.

"Apologies," he asides to Karson. "I've prioritized work a little much today... and in the wrong directions, I fear."
Tamamo     'I am certain that Miss Tamamo's charms would be classified as prepatory similarly to Mesmer technology.'

    Tamamo loves being prepared. It's so important. Even if she has no idea what 'removing mob mentality' would look like. It sounds like something Mesmer Jr. would talk about, and the fact that Sonetto's speaking of it as a real thing forces Tamamo to consider some of Mesmer's words in a different light.

    'Do you have more prepared?'

    "Of course! I brought enough to cover a mansion or two, though I had not expected grounds of quite this size, so you may need to position them carefully to cover the full perimeter. Things do get a bit strange if an enclosure is complete, as you might guess." That's probably not reasonable for anyone to guess. "Conversely, leaving a gap will lead those following a wall to naturally flow into it." Tamamo passes over a two stacks of papers, bound with string.
Ein 'Why this room' might be an easy answer to the keen eye of Tamamo and Lilian both, as well as anyone else doing a good Investigation of the surrounds:

There aren't any servants present. Ms. Moissan, the Foundation agent in contact with the Sotheby family, is coordinating in another building, and most of the staff. . . Are most likely dealing with the riot in their own way. With thousand(s) of people going wild outside or probing the gates, the staff has been pulled out and the house locked down, save for the head butler and a few bodyguards left to mind the little lady. The dark areas on the second floor and the side hallway might indicate also a bit of guidance for that little lady:

There might not be enough staff to ensure her safety if she wandered. So, with limited options, and limited options to stop her from peeking outside were she not to be distracted and minded directly... A picture was painted, and it was more rugged and ugly than any fanciful masterwork.

'Do you garden?'

Sotheby touches the inside flower of her hat with a trailing finger as if remembering it's there, and then gasps with splay-fingered attention when it's pointed out to her. A noticing noticer! Someone who cared about her hat! And praised it!! Nobody's ever done that before!!!

The levels of excitement Sotheby cyles through warms cheeks to rosy with giggles of praise-enjoyment, and a technically demure hand-shielding of her ehehe~ after at a big, pretty lady saying that her hat was superior *and* ask her such a leading, wonderful question about her special skills - the skills of a noble lady!

Fanning herself instead of shielding her mouth, Sotheby's wide eyed return comes with huge grin and eager nod. "Yes!" Sotheby declares, in the same vein as 'yippee!', and then splay-finger perches it on collar to explain in detail. "My mother says a proper lady must know how to shave her own Mandrake, trim her own eternal flowers, and care for a~ll the Critters in the greenhouse, and I'm *more* than a proper lady counting that way!" Sotheby proudly announces, touching the thorn-wound binding atop her hat. "Even if they're awfully sharp - a pricked finger would never stop Sotheby!" A beat, and then her fingers curl in on her collar to nod. "The garden's gone cold this time of year, but the greenhouse is quite nice in the afternoons! I often spend time there snipping ingredients. Sometimes recipes call for fresh, and you can't substitute!" She declares authoritatively, as if quoting from tome-based knowledge.

'I take it that Mr. Sotheby isn't in, then?'

Karson shakes his head with the 'my apologies' portraitframe across his face.
Lilian Rook     Lilian is very much aware that Einar is a much more intimidating presence to the layman than she is; she's already taking advantage of it, in fact. The average person, especially drunk and/or riled up, doesn't have the instincts to know whether someone is more likely to severely hurt you by the subtle indicators that a veteran would, but they do understand height, build, gender, and dress. Moving directly in line and ahead of Einar is implicitly using his presence to close up the rearguard.

    'Of course not! I mean only that we should be wary of something more dangerous than a crowd with only stones to throw.'

    Lilian nods. "Were they so polite as to out themselves straight away." is mumbled at some point.

    'Wow! There's so many of you! Yippee!'

    Lilian, still huddled near Tamamo, bounces shallowly on the balls of her feet and makes a restless little high-pitched noise from the back of her throat, even daring to reverently whisper "Oh my go~d . . ." She bends down to scoop up a champagne flute with a surprisingly saccharine "Thank you~!" to the little rabbit. She wiggles up close and holds Tamamo around the lower back by reflex.

    'My mother says a proper lady must know how to shave her own Mandrake, trim her own eternal flowers, and care for a~ll the Critters in the greenhouse, and I'm *more* than a proper lady counting that way!'

    She can't help but engage maximum active listening if Sotheby is going to be like that! Nodding enthusiastically, Lilian indulges in "Quite right! Oh it's so excellent to meet a young ldy with a proper upbringing for a change~"

    'Oh--I thought you were from way ahead in the timeline.'

    "Mm? I am. My mother is one hundred and fifty nine." Lilian states as a matter of plain fact, and then begins to conceptualize the thought for her cabinet that arcanists probably don't live that long, actually.

    'If a bobby clobbers an innocent man, not so many people bat an eye at that either.'

    "And if an arcanist does, there's a race riot. Please try to keep up." she sniffs. Even Lilian feels a little ridiculous here, but for completely the wrong reasons; she clearly thinks Regulus' lack of racial solidarity is completely baffling considering she is an arcanist, and she can't imagine feeling otherwise. She decides to clear her head by sipping the surely very above board Weird Apple Cider.

    'I am certain that Miss Tamamo's charms would be classified as prepatory similarly to Mesmer technology.'

    "Lovely." she says, at first, then corrects to "That's a very fortunate precedent. The two of us will have this handled quickly." She thinks so little of the average exact-type-of-person-she-irrationally-hates.

    'I am... unsure as to whether any of the dances I know are appropriate to the time and place.'

    "Dancing might be a little bit . . ." Lilian begins, not looking forward to the prospect of attempting something so structured in plain view of thousands of angry racists. "With so many people, it'd be difficult to get them all in one place for something like that. It'd be more practical to simply whittle them down from the edges, wouldn't it? Those closest to the front and center wouldn't have an easy time leaving even if they wanted to."

    Still, something else does strike her. Once there's a lull in the discussion to make a decision, Lilian excuses herself back to the ballroom-foyer, climbing the stairs just to get some distance from the noise and the benefit of dark. Finding a still and empty place to herself, she opens her bag, sets fire to her incense, and focuses on quelling the intrusive thoughts about a skulking rogue or two in the shadows, by divining the presence of any other human beings inside. If she gets the all clear, she'll pack up and go right back downstairs again.
Regulus ''My mother is one hundred and fifty nine.''

Regulus's jaw drops and mouths the words 'one hundred and fifty nine' silently. The average life expectancy in 1966 was, like, half that. She starts to ask if Lilian is like eighty or something but thinks better of it.

''And if an arcanist does, there's a race riot.''

Regulus is more used to smaller aggressions from humanity than race riots but it is absolutely true that she feels class solidarity before racial solidarity. That isn't to say that she is completely absent of racial solidarity, but it's decidedly not the more important thing to her. It's likely one of the little factoids that kept her from the Manus despite her antiauthoritarian belief structure.

But the other big reason is that the big movement she found common cause in, the free love movement of the Swinging Sixties, was decidedly not an arcanist-only movement! She's found common cause with plenty of humans.

"Well, yeah. I feel bad." Regulus tells Lilian. "Maybe it wouldn't have solved any of the big problems, but if we were able to save those people, Miss Sotheby wouldn't be in danger now."

Well, it doesn't really FEEL she's in danger too much yet with the music playing and the small army of Elites protecting her, but even if she's surely physically safe she can't be so sure about being mentally safe if the mob decides to bust in and start jeering at this sweet potato of a gal.

"Oh! Yeah! Sotheby!" She's gone informal! Oh no! She twists her head to look at her. "What's the name of your little friend there." She nods at the rabbit before adding, "I bet you know all that stuff. You're a--oh you have Critters in your greenhouse too? They don't bite, do they?"

Even if they don't bite normally Regulus has high odds of being bit anyway.
Tamamo     'They'll go great to sip while you try my Extra-Original All Glazed Fried Dough-Nut.'

    Tamamo's pretty sure she read somewhere that fried dough is an American specialty. She's being offered such cultural experiences today -- wait, 'Russian'? Did she get it wrong? To avoid embarrassment, she quietly asks Lilian for help. "Are fried doughs a Russian or American specialty?"

    'While my parents aren't around, I'm the lady of the house - Gwendoline Vera Sotheby, the already legen~dary alchemist!'

    "Oh, my! How very reliable. Though I do practice a few techniques... I believe my Lilian might be more versed in alchemy than am I." Rather, it doesn't come up for her often enough to consider herself 'an alchemist,' taken as distinct from 'pharmacologist'... which it might not be, here.

    ...walk out two flutes of Sotheby's mystery drink to Lilian and Tamamo by wobbling with cartoonish precariousness.
    ... 'Thank you~!' to the little rabbit. She wiggles up close and holds Tamamo around the lower back by reflex.

    "Oh!" Drinks! Since they're being offered, it would be rude to refuse, and also rude to allow the server to fall over. Tamamo goes ahead and leans down to take one, and then leans into Lilian to try it.

    'My mother says a proper lady must know how to shave her own Mandrake, trim her own eternal flowers...'
    'Quite right! Oh it's so excellent to meet a young ldy with a proper upbringing for a change~'

    Tamamo nods along, smiling, "Yes, your mother is right, of course. If one does not care for one's own garden, one may be surprised when a necessary item is missing, or left to wonder why something fails to grow. Such things must be learned oneself." Nod, nod. "And of course, the aging is also important. If one calls for 'fresh,' or for 'ten months aged, to not handle these things oneself is to roll dice for the details." Nod, nod. "Not to mention, one must be prepared to make one's own additions to a garden, upon learning the caring of another. To leave 'one's own mark,' is how it is said, no? The planting of a tree, the crossing to create a new cultivar with flowers of a color never before seen, or such-like. In this way can a garden show the history of its caretakers." Tamamo's had some time to think about it.

    It takes her at least that long to realize they're not getting much further to handling the 'within the hour, probably' probably-murderous violence problem.

    'Have you ever been able to make something that spreads a lot and real far without the other things in it getting weaker?'

    "That would be quite useful, if such a technique were available." She can think of something similar, but her lossless propagation techniques aren't compatible with Odette's shady drugs power set.

    'Dancing might be a little bit . . .'
    'It'd be more practical to simply whittle them down from the edges, wouldn't it?'

    "If we wished to distract them, it might be best to transport ourself to the opposite side of the gathering. We could draw them away with something more attractive, like..." She doesn't say 'a rock concert,' but she does look at Regulus for a moment. "Refreshments would be very helpful, but 'a few thousand' is beyond the sort of picnic guest list I could carry, even had I time to prepare."

    But whatever they decide to do, they're going to have to actually do it. Or they can fortify and wait.
Timekeeper "While my parents aren't around, I'm the lady of the house - Gwendoline Vera Sotheby, the already legen~dary alchemist!"

    "Well, it's wonderful to meet you, Miss Sotheby." Vertin crouches a bit to get closer to the rabbit stuffie's level, looking up at Sotheby. "Does your friend have a name as fancy and ladylike as yours?"

"I-I mean, I probably have enough doses for a few dozen of them, but hundreds is a little much."

    While Vertin is holding out an index finger to shake hands with a stuffed rabbit, Sonetto calmly explains, "I do not believe it is in our best interests to gas the civilian populace of Chicago. Such a mass spread of unconscious rioters would inevitably cause a stir within the news and government for the photographs taken by journalists in the aftermath. If you are capable of producing tear gas, it may be useful as a last resort."

    "But it is as Dame Rook said." She nods. "There is likely no need to incapacitate all or most of the rioters. Riots are sustained by a mass delusion of heightened emotions, and possibly magically influenced emotions in this case. If a sufficient number are forced to flee, then the others will follow suit."

"Even if they're awfully sharp - a pricked finger would never stop Sotheby!"

    "That's quite brave of you," Vertin says, taking basically whatever weird concoctions Sotheby offers. "If you're confident in how graceful and gentle you can be, then you won't be scared of either sharp plants or critters, will you?"

    "I used to care for critters as well, back in school. There was a teakettler I was responsible for brushing and brewing beverages for, in particular, and carbuncles to feed and train. Do you have any favorites?"

    Gradually navigating through Sotheby's zone of control brings Vertin back around to Mr. Karson, and gives her an opportunity to go for the phone. "We should contact Ms. Moissan and organize the service staff to spread Tamamo's charms. I believe it's best to leave gaps in the charms around the gates in particular, to ensure their effectiveness in dissuading the rioters from spreading across the grounds over the fencing, and from there we can utilize Einar's barricades to limit their momentum."

"If we wished to distract them, it might be best to transport ourself to the opposite side of the gathering."

    Looking over at Lilian, Vertin intuits the reason behind her hesitation over dancing without her needing to say it. "Drawing their attention towards you while they're agitated may be dangerous, even discounting the Manus Vindictae, unless you're certain that your arcanum will calm them, rather than simply redirecting the focus of their emotions. Drawing their attention 'away' from the manor may be sufficient for those on the fringes, to deplete their numbers through attrition as those furthest from the front lines simply leave."

    "Understood, Timekeeper!" With Tamamo and Lilian confirming their ability to mentally influence the crowd however they end up doing so, Sonetto attempts to corral everyone to move out. "I will ready myself at the front gate, along with Mr. Riku and Einar."
Regulus ''She does look at Regulus for a moment.''

"W-wait you want me to hold the attention of a bunch of people who hate arcanists?" Regulus has found racial solidarity again apparently. She reaches into her backpack and draws out her portable record player. "Didn't bring a guitar with me but I could do a totally off the chain light show and play some sick tunes."

Tamamo has struck Regulus in her weak point of 'thinking rock and roll can solve just about everything'. Though, honestly, even so she is a little dubious--but wiling to try! "Should I go now? I can hype up the crowd with some stellar fireworks and groovy patterns."

Is the great Regulus about to meet her end?!
Riku Asakura 'It is difficult,'

Riku nods at Einar as he goes into the excesses that people put themselves into.  "Yeah..." he says with a lingering look at the drunks they escorted back out.  "I'm just glad nobody was hurt, but it does feel weird to deal with the rambling of people with misplaced hatred."

Riku watches awestruck as barriers are conjured into being.  Einar sure has some useful powers, and Riku is impressed by those who have similar abilities.  "That's awesome, Mr. Einar.  This makes defending the house a lot easier..." he says, considering his own skills and where they'll be useful in the oncoming raid.  
Lilian Rook     'Are fried doughs a Russian or American specialty?'

    "In nineteen-twenty-eight? I haven't the foggiest." Lilian whispers back. "Perhaps they began in Russia and became an American focus? Like 'french fries'?" Wrong again.

    'I believe my Lilian might be more versed in alchemy than am I.'

    Lilian puffs out her cheeks a little. Matilda calling her a 'generalist' still stings a little in the back of her mind, so she was carefully avoiding mentioning anything about her personal talents.

    'I do not believe it is in our best interests to gas the civilian populace of Chicago.'

    Lilian nearly says 'what a shame', but she was just talking to Regulus about the Holocaust like ten minutes ago, so she'd feel really weird about that sentence even facetiously.

    'I used to care for critters as well, back in school.'

    Vertin lore acquired. She'll complete the full set yet.

    'W-wait you want me to hold the attention of a bunch of people who hate arcanists?'

    "Oh but I'm certain they'll love you. You're just like them aren't you?" Lilian says, snottily.

    'Drawing their attention towards you while they're agitated may be dangerous, even discounting the Manus Vindictae, unless you're certain that your arcanum will calm them, rather than simply redirecting the focus of their emotions.'

    "Reasonable, measured, and well-considered. Plus your monotone is soothing." Lilian says, flashing a quick smile, apparently attempting levity halfway through. Things are tense, despite just how delightful Sotheby is. "Perhaps besides only General Einar, I'm the one at the least risk of whatever the crowd attempts to do. Ordinarily I would elect for something like fear, to expedite your retreat, but I suppose you're correct that the less excited they are the better." She exhales.

    "If Sonetto and a couple of others can ward all of the entrances that General Einar hasn't, then sweep the grounds, I'll teleport Tamamo and myself to the other side of the crowd and begin whittling down their numbers. I suspect that once enough of the middle ranks see their fellows peeling away and going home, they'll eventually begin propogating the chain reaction themselves.If anyone causes trouble, I'll take them to a discrete location and subdue them by force. And if they storm the gates while we're busy--" She looks at Sonetto instead. "Light them up as befits the Foundation field manual. Obviously." No need to get too military.

    "I've never tried to do this with two thousand people before, much less potentially five, but there's nothing to be gained by worrying. I'll see how far my magic can take us before I run out of gas, and hope Tamamo can pick up the slack if it isn't enough." Lilian says, clearly talking out the negative case just to work out the pre-jitters. "When you're ready." she says to Tamamo. "I'll count down from ten."
Ein 'Hey, so what does the Fizzy Fairy Flute taste like?' One might ask, with good reason, as it contacts their tongue and signals are sent to the brain.

At first it tastes like fire, smoky woodhearth and the pleasant texture of crackling tinder on the tongue like an exotic candy, and then a burst of sweetness in a spritz that could be apple or honeysuckle or pear or none of them and something completely different.

It finishes with a note of quinine. Definitely quinine, almost licorice in botanical bite, curling the nasal senses. Despite being bubbly, there is no mouthfeel directly of carbonation.

Anyone that tries it is immediately laserbeam stared at by Sotheby as if her eyes could contain real stars that pulsed so brightly they beamed light directly from her eyes into the receiver such that the LIGHT OF SOTHEBY appreciated every part of their enjoyment of the fizzy fairy potion.

Including, and especially, any winces or looks of pain. She's so, so hyper receptive to any motion. And the rabbit stuffy is dutifully trying to foist a drink onto everyone! However, those that are Outside the door have nothing to fear, as the animated toy does not accost those across the threshold.

As they're directed, Riku and Einar become instantly instrumental in turning the Weird Grounds (Mildly Averse) into even more of a fortresspoint. There's a kind of disheartening ripple effect caused in the rioters when enormous barricades start going up. It's one thing to challenge a wall that's already there, but more? More being erected? Each barricade is an ask. Sometimes the momentum can carry forward, but...

Sonetto has experience in suppressing Waves Of Instigated Individuals, and Einar has experience in Suppressing (General-ly). Riku might have something to learn when it comes to setting up defensive positions, to the tune of a truly thankful Mr. Karson.

Regulus, however, takes the daring action of drinking down the entire Fizzy Fairy Flute's contents in one quaff and immediately feels...

Great!
    A little sick.
Pretty good!
    Maybe...
No, Definitely good!
    Unless...

And so forth. Measured sips give a mild euphoria and sense of distant excitement like a new variety of caffeine that hits as soon as gulped. Quaffing the whole product at once hits like being at the bottom of your first pot of hot black coffee and doing the mental calculus on if you'll need the second or if the campfire running down your throat will get you all of the way there. Also, the taste of quinine isn't going away without some other taste to dispel it.

(Gwendoline Vera) Sotheby is faster by far than a cautiously retreating Mr. APPLe, and after he zips down to get the glass she has seized him up. It's not all bad, of course! No juicing occurs - she takes Mr. APPLe in both arms and hugs him close, held outward and proper, in a pictureframe-pose way while gasping with a big smile at Regulus' big adventure.

"Hello, Mr. APPLe." Sotheby conspires with her fruity companion. "Do you know what's in cider? I was told it's got a sharp, but funky taste, sweet but sizz~ling like a campfire! And when it goes down, you want to jump right back up! The driver's tale was quite vivid, but I've had to guess at some of the ingredients to reproduce it."

It is as clear as grain alcohol and no part of its chemical composition should bubble.

"What do you think?" Sotheby asks, as Mr. APPLe gets his chance to drift away to the Safety of Sonetto.
Ein "The *Russian* invention is what my father explained to me! He boasted that he tasted the very first dough-nut made in the great State of New York! I've never been in a state of york before, so I suppose I'll get there my second time? Do you have to get there by holding your breath and counting, or, does one get there in an Auto Island? They must be too far to ride a Critter, or else my father would come back so much quicker from his trips!"

Vertin leans down, far closer to stuffy and Sotheby level, and the little lady is practically abounce. "This is Typhon! The hero of Auto Island! He's the incredible hero that stands strong against *all* of Jupiter's armies, from Io to Callisto, every day! Never ever resting except for bedtime, Typhon is my most loyal and incredible protector!"

Sotheby nods with a brightly confirming both-fists-on-hips bounce. "After Mister Karson, of course! It's a battle for Typhon to get up much of anything on a shelf, even if he can defeat three of Jupiter's henchmen with a single attack!"

Typhon, the animated stuffy, pantomimes every part of a wink except actually winking, and then offers Vertin her very own fizzy fairy fireside delight beverage.

Activated now, introducing, she's turning and giving Lilian and any others that want to filter into the home a chance to do so. There's plenty of nooks around, though the grand foyer is mostly dark leading to the second floor and off to the side rooms around the perimeter - really only the front rooms are active. Karson must've been entertaining Sotheby just in these few rooms and perhaps an adjoining kitchen considering all of the concoctions on display.

Walking forward, past the bookcase dividers, Sotheby is lifting up her own tray of what are much more doughnut holes or their equivalent than doughnuts, and in this case it does appear to be a dough that is fried. Did these horrifying monsters allow a child to operate a deep frier in 1928?! Arcanists MUST be stopped.

Smelling heavily of something vegetal, almost woody, the fried dough is glazed in a glistening rainbow of sugary glaze that needs no translation despite the kaleidoscopic confectionary properties - sweet, fry, and perhaps some off-brand of dough. Dare you try her fried cake?

Sotheby's pleading-expectancy might even demand everyone tries it. But dare you?
Einar "Frustration... is something that is easily redirected. It is certainly natural that humans would be fearful of a subspecies that is capable of wielding power against them," Einar replies to Riku, staring out towards the crowds. "That is because people do not ordinarily understand the nature of power, or of power misused. Noblesse oblige is a concept that was adopted by humanity in most world lines that contain them, but the reality of its implementation is practically always poor. The notion of a social contract is something that does not root itself easily, and the ones that do take root are often the wrong ones-- pushed by those who have something to gain by spreading societal illness."

"And... there are many who cannot distinguish between power wielded with a sense of obligation and power wielded selfishly, or the poison that flows freely from the latter."

He gestures broadly towards the gates, "The power of numbers is one of the most basic expressions of power across the worlds. How often do you suppose that it is wielded responsibly?"

"The Giants of Light are imperfect, but the notion of the obligations of power is a central conceit of their culture that is borne out across multiple world lines. It is this next-to-universal obligation that I believe drew His Highness to imitating them... though I may be giving too little credit to simple curiousity."

A faint sigh slips between his lips.

"Between this and those problems that may be addressed with an ice cream truck and the decency that all folk should comport themselves with, I much prefer the ice cream," he adds.

Glancing at Riku, he rumbles, "You don't believe very much in yourself, do you?"
Ein Odette giving 'alchemy' a 'that's so neat...' isn't quite the splendiferous supplication before the supreme skill of all, but then immediately giving Sotheby a little project with the :relieved: face sticker vial. Immediately making anyone getting an Extra-Original All Glazed Fried Dough-Nut at least two increments harder due to Sotheby passing the tray over to Typhon for the stuffy to wobble left and right precariously while single-limbing both the mismatched tray of drinks *and* the tray of glazed treats. Somehow the great hero of Auto Island (wherever or whatever that is) manages, though! It's not hard to take this burden from Typhon, though, no matter how heroic a stuffy it is.

Inspecting the vial in both hands, uncorking and wafting some fumes lightly towards herself, and then recorking and swishing too check reactant speed and properties with a careful eye, Sotheby drills down to what she can guess about it and the details she's gleaned from her cursory inspection.

"A dose is a dose, as you must know," She leads in using her Teacher Voice despite being certainly the younger of the two. She must Teach a lot. "But that doesn't mean you can't spread 'one dose' across a bigger area. You want a diffuser! I'd start from a Bouncing Bubble Bomb, if you're familiar with the *common* version, but if you pull out the bubble-powders you can fill them with a~ll kinds of things!" Declares someone who has definitely filled a Bubble Ball with normally nonintended powders and chemicals before, recreationally.

'I've prioritized work a little much today... and in the wrong directions, I fear.'

Mr. Karson greets Einar back when the work is done with both arms, tucking cane over wrist to shake the returning man's hand and pat him on the back at the same time - deep gratefulness. "No, not at all, sir. You've brought my lady safety - that's far from misplaced. That you've brought that safety timely enough to save me breaking a good cane over those fools sending them clear of this place puts myself in your debt as well," Karson smiles thin but warm. "At least for a cane's worth." He has to be a little cool. A cane and also the protection of his charge.

'...proper upbringing for a change~'
'...Critters in your greenhouse too?'

"It's *as* I said, if you need fresh, there's no substitute! Mother keeps such wonderful gardens and father has all kinds of rare beasts. He spends time abroad travelling for rare in~gredients, he says. *I* say he likes looking for ingredients more than he likes using them, but that's just what Sotheby thinks!" Giggles the little lady. "We've a whole *barn* of Carbuncles, and I'm sure I saw a lake leviathan at the center of our pond on a foggy night! Plus, the foggy nights are al~so the *froggy* nights, and there's no better time to gather toads!"

With the little wiggle of her fingers, there's a vivid image of her snatching up toads from the lakeside just on how she snatched up APPLe, perhaps telling on what she practiced with. "And father says fresh is best even if dried is easy!" And she finishes with light scoff. "It all comes out in the refining process anyway."
Riku Asakura "Not very much, I imagine..." Riku comments on the power of numbers and their responsible use.  "I imagine it's used very poorly most of the time and used in service of the few instead of the majority." He completes the thought.  Taking a long breath and sighing.  

"I prefer the ice cream, too.  It's easier," he agrees with Einar about problems that can be solved.  "I never met your leader yet.  What kind of man is he?"

'You don't believe very much in yourself, do you?'

Riku is quiet for a moment and then speaks softly.  "I am concerned about my power because of who gave me my Ultrapowers.  I'm afraid that one day people will find out what sort of man he is and shun me because I'm his son.  This makes me try extra hard to avoid that."
Regulus ''Oh but I'm certain they'll love you. You're just like them aren't you?''

"Why are you after me so much today." Regulus says, in a way that doesn't even get a question mark. "Did I step on a sore spot or something. You know what I'm about and I'm trying to help."

But she considers the statement. "Well... I'll just have to do my best to make sure they do, then."

Or at the very least get good at running. She seems content to let Tamamo give her the signal.

She suddenly grimaces as a bunch of sensations hit her. Oh at first it feels great! Then not so great. She eventually lets out a, "Whew that hits wilder than I thought, love." She looks back to Lilian, biting at her lip, frowning, then puts it out of mind.

Mostly because Mr. APPLe has just been captured. Regulus doesn't think he's in danger but it does draw her attention.

''Hello, Mr. APPLe.''

APPLe can't escape Sotheby's embrace but he calms considerably once he realizes he's not being turned into cider. "Ahem... I haven't partaked of the cider, Lady Sotheby, but judging from the expressions on the Captain, your estimation may not be far off the mark?" He isn't going to tell her that apples are in cider he isn't he isn't he can't he doesn't have it in him. He slowly drifts away upside down a bit as SOtheby finally lets go of him. He's been knocked out for the rest of the scene as surely as if he had taken five finishers in a row.

''The hero of Auto Island!''

"Woww... I'm glad you have such a reliable hero looking after you, Sotheby! And such a cute one too." She pats Typhon the hero on the head.

Regulus of course believes in Regulus. She slides an Are You Experienced vinyl disk onto the record player and closes the protective lid on top of it after placing the needle carefully near the edge of the disk.

"Alright, Tamamo. I'm all set for when you're ready." She says, sliding a Picrasma candy in her mouth since she intends to light up the sky so brilliantly the mob will forget their problems long enough that there should be no issues to avoid their ire.

Well, she doesn't expect it'll be THAT easy, but as it turns out despite her worries she's still willing to try.
Odette Raskins "Such a mass spread of unconscious rioters . . ."
". . . tear gas, it may be useful as a last resort."

Odette nods slowly at Sonetto while Sotheby's occupied again with Mr. APPLe, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "G... Good point. Okay, no more sleeping gas idea, but tear gas? Hmm... Oh. I've got a recipe for some defensive eye spray and the ingredients to make it, but that's still.. Um. A spray. If Miss Tamamo's magic isn't right for spreading it out can't spread it, and Miss Sotheby doesn't have a way to get it going wide without diluting it, then getting a cloud big enough for..."

She pauses to let the idea continue rolling around in her head. "Wait, yeah... We just need to shrink enough of the crowd to get that... That critical mass down, right? Then this could still work. O-or at least help, between that and the defenses getting set up, and Commander Rook bringing their numbers down. Oh, she'll need a mask if she gets that close, then... I'll just need a minute to-"

THE LIGHT OF SOTHEBY SHINING UPON THE FIZZY FAIRY FLUTE

Oh, Sotheby's looking at her again! Odette takes a sip of that flute again, and she starts to feel... Pretty okay! The burning sensation in her mouth is more pleasant than it logically should be, probably because Odette's pretty fond of the sweetness and the fizz more than she's worried about something that just feels really spicy.

The quinine flavor still has her questioning what she's put in her mouth, but the overwhelming feeling of 'oh, neat!' and the euphoric caffeination hitting the EMT's face overrides that handily. Feeling like she could take on the entire crowd outside, combined with also having that solidified idea on how to actually aid in the defense of the manor, puts a pretty bright smile on her face before she even realizes Sotheby's looking right at her.

"Oh! Hehe. This stuff's got a really good kick to it, Miss Sotheby! Kind of like my energy-coffee but that's just coffee with more caffeine in it and it still tastes like coffee. This tastes like spicy fruit candy, so that'd be a lot easier to drink like the way Miss Regulus is and is it okay to drink that much at once?"

Feeling absolutely buzzed already, Odette's attention is sharpened to a point as she observes Sotheby at work with her vial. Should she be sniffing it that way? It's probably fine, since the girl does strike her as That Good at the craft to not be too worried about that, and she even speaks with the Teacher Voice's Authority!

"You want a diffuser! I'd start from a Bouncing Bubble Bomb"

"Oh, like a smoke...!" Odette blurts out, only realizing afterwards that she's not sure if smoke machines exist in this era. "I don't think I've ever seen a rare Bouncing Bubble Bomb before." Or any, but she leaves that part out. "Pulling all the powders out and filling it up with this stuff, though... Oh, that's really clever. Then we could call it a... A Bouncing Bubble Custom!"

She sounds so proud of herself. "A relaxing Bubble Bomb, one to get people feeling great, one to get them all teary eyed for a sad story... Or maybe even a mix to get ready for bed!"

Part of Odette's excitement comes from just plain being excited about the possibilities of the Bouncing Bubble Bombs, and part of it comes from how she is most definitely not plotting to fill one of them up with a mixture of light tranquilizers and improvised tear gas mix ^to use on the crowd outside. "Maybe even one for different food flavors...? Ah, one thing at a time. Do you happen to have any spares I could test this out with, Miss Sotheby?" If she can get the mix right, it'll be enough to make them drowsy without knocking them out, and enough to burn their eyes without causing any long-term eye damage!
Einar "Wickedness is not a thing born or made, Riku Asakura," Einar reassures the younger man. "But no, the ice cream isn't easier. The violence is. The effort it would take me to kill two thousand ordinary people is incredibly small. You, too. Decency is difficult. But it is, I think, a lot more fun-- in the end."

His attention swivels back to Mr. Karson. There's a brief, brief moment where Einar doesn't seem like he knows what to do-- he's not accustomed to exchanging physical contact without his armor on, and there's a split-second freeze that he carries on through without looking uncomfortable. He rumbles, "Although I am certain that you would have dazzled us with your stick fighting, it is, I think, always preferable if such implements go unbroken."

Evidently he has no difficulty believing that the man would be able to repel four attackers-- it takes a certain kind of lunatic to be employed at a place like this. Those people are usually capable of a murder or four if they have to be.

//I never met your leader yet. What kind of man is he?//

Turning his attention back to Riku, he says, "Curious. Tired. He sleeps most of the time, now."
Lilian Rook     Lilian is soooo good at not making weird expressions when drinking strange-tasting alcohol. Honestly it could be a lot worse, really. She wouldn't choose it herself, but at least it's novel. And she did her very very best. Lilian's commitment is such that she wouldn't so much as gag if her own eventual child fed her paint thinner, though.

    'Do you have to get there by holding your breath and counting, or, does one get there in an Auto Island? They must be too far to ride a Critter, or else my father would come back so much quicker from his trips!'

    Lilian has no idea what almost any of that means! "You'd have to drive or ride the train." Lilian says, warmly. She is so taken in and also so glad that she has somewhere else to be when the 'dough nuts' come out.

    'Alright, Tamamo. I'm all set for when you're ready.'

    "I can teleport you too. Close your eyes and don't complain if you feel sick." Lilian says, not unfondly.

    She eyes the picrasma, and her lips press together in conflicted thought.

    No, not unless absolutely necessary.

    "Ten . . ."

    Her plan is very simple, for how charged this whole situation is. Perhaps little shining Sotheby the Small has reduced the intensity of whatever it is she feels about the rabid mob. After Tamamo has handed out her ofuda, on the count of zero, Lilian will 'teleport' her (and Regulus, who gets the odd feeling of having been jabbed with some pressure in the gut, as if she'd been slung over someone's shoulder or something, maybe) outside, spaced apart such that Regulus has the far flank whilst Lilian takes the back and Tamamo is closer to her than not.

    Once she's there, Lilian's part is to slam the brain-melt-o-meter to maximum Word of the Fairy Queen presence, arresting all the attention that turns to her and, through sequences of calm and wise-sounding words, and a tone-setting offering of twenty dollars here and a handkerchief there, 'encourage' husbands to return to their wives, fathers to their children, angry youths to take each other's shoulders and wile away their evening in good company instead; for there is nothing to gain from standing here in the cold growing colder, and the night will come early this late in the season. There is no wage to be earned, no joy to be sparked, and no God to be found, here. Though they may be forgiven their impulsive idealism in the heat of the moment, this course is nothing but long hours of wasted time and idle frustration, cooling to bitter ashes as nothing changes; as nothing ever does and nothing ever will.

    Her magic will definitely run out before her throat goes raw. She has no idea how many she can actually affect under conditions like these, but it's certainly not five thousand. When she feels herself starting to run low, she wraps up her work peeling away the rearguard, and fucking borrows the grand piano from the foyer, taking it to the impromptu stage with the other two where she can use the rest more efficiently.
Tamamo     The Fizzy Fairy Flute.

    Tamamo takes careful sips. She's accepting hospitality and taking in new experiences, after all, as opposed to 'sating thirst' or 'seeking highs.' The experience is still-- "Oh, my. That was quite surprising." But she still takes another sip. A tannin-heavy taste isn't very agreeable, but the sweetness is, the feeling of a fire bothers her less than it would most, and all of it is, at least, interesting.

    The offered fried dough.

    "Just one, then. We have some matters to which we must attend, and though we will not be far, it needs doing." Just across, or possibly down, the street. Tamamo will accept one dough-nut, in the meantime.

    'I'll count down from ten.'

    "Somewhere with a clear line of sight... I shall leave the choice of location to you. Though Ms. Regulus should join us, she will not need to stand on stage." Will a 1928 crowd appreciate 1960s Rock? Maybe not, but having a musical accompaniment will still help. Whatever it is, she's confident she can make it work. "As to the performance..."

    Tamamo looks around in her purse, finds something that she hadn't actually meant to pack today, and gives a satisfied nod.

    'Alright, Tamamo. I'm all set for when you're ready.'

    "Normally, I would prefer a stage prepared for natural acoustics, but in this case... You have an amp, yes?" For a crowd like that, they'd better go loud and electric. Electric guitars might not be invented for a few years, but that's not a concern. Not for her. "As soon as you are moved, set to work. There will be no time to waste."

    . . .

    Upon Lilian 'teleporting' her, Tamamo reorients herself in a moment, and sets to work. "Now." Perhaps no one here has before seen a shamisen played, but they may at least know of a banjo, and neither the silhouette nor the physical method is all that different, even if the sound profile is distinct. Tamamo strums, and repeats herself, more than loudly. "Now."

    She begins slowly into the melody, not for the sake of build-up so much as to give her space to speak. "I will have your attention, please."

    It doesn't matter, in particular, what she plays. It could be anything, so long as it's something that catches attention. It does't matter what she says, either, which is good -- because she has nothing to say to these people. If their troubles can be cured through music, it won't be by her.

    "All you need do is listen." All she can do is give them a performance. Like a cold compress, it can soothe one for a little while. If that's all they need, then that's fine. For some, it might be. For the rest...

    Tamamo plays, focusing attention to herself like an otherworldly fascination. Doing that much is easy for her, drawing others to stare into the well of gravity a solar presence creates.

    Lilian and Regulus will both need to simply do their best to match their music, but whatever the result is, at least it won't be easy to look away from it.
Ein Once there's a lull in the discussion to make a decision,

Lilian ducks off while someone else is drinking one of the Fizzy Fairy Flutes. Karson doesn't seem to be disinclined to let the Foundation 'captain'-type duck into a corner to 'perform a reading'.

There is one kitchen maid who is currently cleaning the kitchen. She has the vibe of someone who is supposed to be there, and if she isn't she is two and a half rooms away and not leaving the nearby adjoining kitchen. For now, the house remains secure - all the windows are up and secure, and there actually isn't really too much climbable things. It's a well designed fortress - with facade! However. . .

Dimly speaking, there are a few infiltrators lurking through the forest, if Lilian expands her search area, those that move as they don't know where they are or shouldn't be there.

The all clear for the house comes quickly though, and...

lovingly! borrows the grand piano from the foyer

Mr. Karson aggressively tries to not mention the piano is missing.

"Mister Karson! Did you notice?" Sotheby shares with her butler in a spare moment. "I think the pi-ah-no is miss-ing!" She sounds out in quiet tones.

Mr. Karson aggressively tries to not mention the piano is missing.

Tamamo will accept one dough-nut, in the meantime.

From Typhon's tray, the fried dough-nut (all-glazed!) comes away lightly sticky from the tray at a goopy point, but they are decadent. They are also not wheat dough but a flour made out of several ingredients giving the faint taste of rye and almond, and a rootier-earthier note.

It is fried. In oil! The oil has a similar character to sesame oil. You're certain it's not sesame, Tamamo. You've tasted sesame oil fries before. It's *like* sesame, in an uncanny sense. The glaze is a confusing but enriching flavor experience with a twist: It remains having a (several) flavors, across all the palate zones of the tongue, for as long as it remains on the tongue. As a jelly glaze!

It is quite striking, if wonderfully different, and the 'All' in 'All Glazed' and Extra-Original parts are absolutely functional parts of the title of the treat.
Regulus Regulus is of course going to just assume that ooghy pressure in the gut is a strange side effect of the teleportation. She doesn't really feel that way with the teleportation disks, but Lilian's teleportation is clearly a different beast. It doesn't even use a disk as far as she can tell! So that means that she better not presume it works the same!

After taking a moment to steady herself, Regulus raises up her portable record player and hits play.

o/~I wanna take you home
I won't do you no harm, no
You've gotta be all mine, all mine
Aw shucks, foxey lady o/~

But by and large she's letting Tamamo be the star of the show, setting down the record player nearby to give music for Tamamo to adapt to, adjusting the volume so it doesn't overpower Tamamo's own playing.

"Hope you're ready...! For the show of a lifetime! You won't see anything else like this!" Regulus shouts, instinctively seeking to rev up the crowd. This does act counter to a soothing melody to some respects, but not entirely--she's pushing for the fizzy joy of an exciting apple cider right here and even a soothing melody can be something one can be excited over.

She rubs her hands together and then snaps her fingers, pointing up to the sky as soundless fireowrks soar out from her finger tips and 'pop' into brilliant displays of color, largely cool blues and purples--at first it's just big bright spirals into the air but soon the brilliant colorful displays she sends up into the sky take more specific forms, colorful foxes, and mugs, and stars. She is pouring enough out there she has to pop a second candy into her mouth to keep the flashes of light going, gradually shifting back to patterns rather than forms.

Maybe they are the same, really, when it all comes down to it.

Maybe they've just been tricked into thinking otherwise. And as beads of sweat drip down Regulus's face from exertion, she can at least tell herself that's the dream. If not even a little bit it's gonna be a rough day for Regulus but at least she's not alone out here.