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Ein Sotheby, awash in a sea of rioting humanity, is seen and unseen. Never introduced to society, she was just another little rich girl in a sea of the stupendously wealthy. Her position against the wall had been cut off by the black goo that had gathered as the oily caress that implied drapes and curtains with the skeletal reach of blackslick drippings, but it was no hands from the walls that distressed her. The reach of hands, the indifference of waists and balled hands and passionate people, twisting to the stock tickers and show on display and the calling-down of Forget-Me-Not and dramatic standoff, is all so much for Sotheby to handle.

So, so, so much. She shies away from bodies, backing into others, making a little scene and as the prices crash, vial-light casting a halo of uncertainty of her. Was she with the Walden? Who was she? So finely dressed, and not in black or blue...

Sotheby ducks a hand while another grabs for the shoulder Brave Typhon occupies, and is rebuffed by the aggression of the stuffie to peel off the prying hand by fingers and free the evading little girl from her would-be arrestors.

'Miss Sotheby. Would you terribly mind my company? We might have need of your alchemical expertise soon enough.'

APPLe approaches, a sway of red and shine of light reflected that captivates the frayed-nerved young lady's attention. "Mister APPLe!" Sotheby's gasp and reach-towards needfully grips floating fruit, hugging Awakened close to chest as she carries him into a few more steps, determined to Get Away. Her party friend was here!

Except, APPLe carried with him the power of invisibility, and the optical disguise that did not seem to work on the Lady Arcana surely aided the Lady Sotheby, disappearing her before a crowd of gem, pearl, and gold accessory grabbing grubbers.

'Invisible' isn't 'intangible', though, and Sotheby still must brave quite a bit to move through the crowd. "I didn't know you were an e-nig-ma, Mister APPLe!" A breathless little lady carries on, talking because she can race ahead of the verge of tears as long as she can keep going and 'forward' was still possible. "You've optically erased us!"

After a beat, Invisi-by adds the note of: "I think I can use that for a potion!"

Ms. Moissan, having fought her way towards the stairs up the balcony by shoving off people with the length of her mallet and firmly applied shoulder and arm, takes just the first step up and turns, cursing her own attention for losing track of several important people. The encounter above's sheer presence made her want to run, but she's surprised in a moment when she hears "This is fine, Mister APPLe! T-Thank you!" and Sotheby reappears hugging stuffie and APPLe in the same arm and holding down clinking bag with another.

She's barely a word out, when,

'Sotheby! Use your Eraser Fluid! Everyone, come through the gap!'

Sotheby hears Vertin, and more specifically, hears an order for more of her miracle -- well, to be specific, it was a 'Stonebelly Buster' -- Eraser Fluid! Clear, direct, and pointed, the question of 'use on what' is made clear after James uses his last stun capsule on the crowd, scattering people in a bright shower of light and startled cries as they retreated from the zone of floor.

Outside, Vertin had asked Sotheby,

'Eraser Fluid, is it? Whatever would happen if you spilled it onto the ground?'

And Sotheby had,
            ...not answered that question.
Ein When Sotheby's vial of wall-bending alchemy crashes onto the floor of the Walden, it is not a clean hole because no break of glass directly transmits fluid to surface - messy, it spills and spatters and as it does so further warps and catalyzes movement. The floor melts and twists, droplets creating warped twists or spins of the surfaces they land on, or completely reshapes obstacle into egress without regard to orientation. Seaming like faultlines by the floor riven by rivers of alchemy, the arrangement of the floor becomes a mess, and as the mess spreads, further complicates things into the basement one beneath, and the halls and walls.

It bends, dripping like viscera through stone where it fizzes and warps and smears before subsiding, though any of the Stonebelly Buster variant of this Eraser Fluid that lands on people's clothes just leaves them extremely starched. Cloth remains where wood twists and bows, and so it is the Manus' insistence on curtains and drapes and softening of spaces. . .

That makes the Labyrinth twist anew, resolidifying in a shape that looks to the intruders as no-where they've gone before, spun and shot through with chemical enigma.

"Move!" Ms. Moissan joins the cries for escape, grabbing Sotheby in one arm (who has APPLe in arms and Typhon on shoulder) and dropping into a slide as she races into the basement level before they're caught.

Shapes, in the distance, noises from the depeer levels that are dribblingly twisted into serious alert, give evermore impetus to run into the torn-open deeper depths of the Walden to escape the falling-upon from all sides.
Schneider Greco      "Hope?" the Lady Arcana says to White, with a finger touching lightly her own cheek. Her face and voice can be so kind, no matter what her words are saying. "I need not aspire, nor lift a finger. The worthy here are sifted from the unworthy. All I need do is wait, and it will be known which is which. Are we not here because we are no-where else?"

     While putting the wand back in through her skull- crrrnch, glck-crkcrackk-glrgll- she shuts her eyes serenely, as if in amiable imitation of White.

     The 'skills readout' is as opaque as might be feared.

Arcana
| HP: ¡¦¤ / °°°°°»
| MP: ¡¦¤ / °°°°°»
| Titles: "«¤¬×§«º", "Guiding One"
| Skills: [The First Arcanum LV10] [¬«¶§« LV°»] [ק«º «¤ LV°»] [¡ ¶§« LV°»]

     "this domain is yours in more than simple ownership, isn't it?"
     "Oh, it belongen hardly to me," she answers Holly leisurely with eyes re-opened, even while havoc plays out on the stage below. That might be worse. "My servant Forget Me Not is the Walden's keeper, and Druvis of the land beyond. Have I no more than I have."

     Are White and Holly 'worthy', or 'unworthy'? Does Arcana even know she's asking the question? Her golden eyes are saintly-blank while her black-slime-brains cascade down her shouldes to dribble onto the carpet.

     They can linger by her on the balcony if they're taken by her charms, but it's both un-suspicious and tactically sound to give chase to Vertin by now.
Riku Asakura Riku is following behind Vertin, trying to keep up with the group.  He's hobbling, his knee bleeding from where he was shot by Schneider while an Ultraman.  Despite his injuries and sad shape, he continues to keep up, or at least tries to.  

The goop seems to be coming from everywhere.  Worse, there are people, driven mad by the storm, who are closing in.  Riku can only strain against his injuries and follow Noissan into the hole.  He hits the ground rolling, gasping in pain as he hits his knee against the ground and rolls to his good foot in a crouch.  

"Where to?" he asks, looking around the changed basement.  He doesn't have time to look; he keeps moving.  He does anything he can to suppress his injured grunts. However, it's hard given what he's suffered upstairs.  Tears well up in the corners of his eyes as he pushes forward.  Praying that he can get away before his knee gives out entirely.  
White      Garbled information is still information, at the end of the day. White can't be too fussed at only understanding a little; table scraps are still food. Over time she may come to understand Arcana better, but she hadn't expected to achieve that in just one short meeting. White's expressions may be mild, but the way Arcana insists on storing her wand like a spike through her own head is still strange enough for her attention to be observable.

     The answer to her question is, likewise, informative in a sense. Or at least, it helps White build relatively unprovable assumptions. As common sense dictates, there's no more reason to linger if Arcana doesn't care to elaborately converse with such a light prompt; it's time to go. White dismisses her scythe back to storage-space for now, brushes her dress off and turns away, lifting the bottom of a boot onto the balcony railing as if to leap off. "I see... Have a nice wait." is aimed vaguely back at Arcana. She doesn't need to explain why she's leaving, and both Holly and Flamel can be brought to her side as soon as they request it now that she's given them 'agents' to escort. She teleports from the railing to the newly-made hole and delves inside at a brisk run; not fast enough to overtake the raid team immediately, but enough to catch up with Schneider if she's gotten a head start, and keep tabs on any other pursuing Manus. She still can't get away with outright turning on them, but if things look really bad, maybe she can subtly slow them down a bit with the Evil Eye...
Timekeeper "Run!"

    With Vertin in Lilian's grasp, the main vulnerability of the invading Foundation-allied Elites is secured. Back in 1966, the madness of the era had reached a frenzy point where the afflicted locals seemed entirely detatched from material concerns except what could be filtered through the Storm Syndrome-- they hurled themselves off roofs or clung to moving cars, or were incited to self-destructive fury at the slightest reasoning, degraded into a tide of suicidally violent flesh aimed at the Elites.

    That's what Forget Me Not is wielding here, but it's not the state of the Storm Syndrome quite yet. None of these people want to die, and even if their sense of danger is poorly tuned out of diseased desperation, there comes a point where they won't chase after *fleeing* Elites. People's greed is rationalized still, as needing to pay off their debts, or to go home to their families without being humiliated by the stock market crash, or for having bought fully into the Manus Vindictae's talk of the apocalypse. It's not strong enough to compel them to drag the allies of the Foundation away from the disintegrating floor, especially not when the Concord Elites are holding back themselves.

    Carried through Sotheby's Stonebelly Burster-ed-open swiss cheese holes by Lilian, Vertin's first order of business is to secure the suitcase on her lap before even being put down. Bracing the suitcase with her elbow, she clicks the mechanism of the watch on her wrist several times, cycling down the hours until the red numbers suspended in her nixie tubes match what she shouted at APPLe before the duel. She rambles in breathless monotone, dryly stating the facts of the situation like a mantra to center herself and the others in earshot.

    "Fifteen hours until the Storm. The alteration of history's turning points and disasters is the means by which the Manus accelerate it-- without a plain ritual at all. Could it have been Arcana's presence that allowed history to be altered to the extent that this occurs, or does she have special knowledge of the Storm itself?"

    Vertin scrubs a hand down her face, then takes the handle of her suitcase again. Swiveling to the side to be let down, she finally says, "Thank you, Lilian," and starts briskly hurrying through the underground passageways on her own two feet.

    Sonetto, after bashing a box of masks and then turning and fleeing from the balcony at Arcana's display, has a harder time making it to the labyrinth. Trailing behind makes her a much more appealing target for the shouting hands that crowd the floor, pushed away from the stage and agitated by the chaos. Flashes of light from incantations fend them off, and then as floor of the Walden opens up more and more from expanding splashes and droplets, Sonetto vaults off the bannister, over the crowd, and down through the moth-eaten floor.

    Her landing isn't perfectly smooth, cracking her knee against the stony floor when she stumbles. Sonetto rebounds to her feet without a trace of hesitation, but her palms and elbows are scraped up, and there's blood dotting through her white leggings already.

"Ow--!"
"Sonetto!"
"Timekeeper! Were you hurt?"
"Not badly."
Timekeeper     Vertin grabs her arm to help her up, and when she lets go, Sonetto's slowed down by a slight limp. "That woman-- their leader 'Arcana'. The name has appeared in our documentation of Manus Vindictae activities before, but we had assumed until now that it was a pseudonym." Sonetto shudders. "The spike she wore, it went through her head. I could not identify any clear weak points, but a wound of that caliber did not seem to cause her any discomfort at all. I do not know..."

    Vertin nods, while the doors and branching paths of the labyrinth move past. "Later. Right now, all we have to do is escape. Right around here should be where Sotheby broke down the wall, and from there we'll be straight on to-- what?"

    In front of her is one of the many Stonebelly-contained circles of acidic decay through the walls of the labyrinth. Vertin glances at Sotheby to confirm, as if an alchemical expert's needed to judge what's in front of them. The hole through the wall's still there, still neatly scooped out like a little cookie-cutter through dough, but beyond it is a completely unfamiliar tangle of hallways and rooms, roaming with Manus Vindictae monsters that they should have eliminated on the way in.

    Vertin ducks behind the wall to hide from a black goopy hand the size of a dog that scrapes along the far wall, dragged as if by an invisible arm. "It's different. There ought to be shortcuts all the way to the exit. The walls must have rearranged themselves."
Veronica     Veronica, safely contained within the body of her EGO, rises to one knee and then upright as quickly as she can manage. Everything's gone to hell. Vertin was nearly *shot* in the *head*, the Foundation elites are scattered across the Walden, there's people she recognizes - formidable ones - fighting for the Manus... she only really gets her wits together again when Vertin calls the retreat. Seeing the effect Sotheby's concoction has on building materials, Veronica sheds Baker and Seventh, all but leaping free of the blossoming hand-mandala within to rush for the literal 'stage exit'.

    En route she passes by a limping Riku - not Ultraman, she notices - and leans down to give him a helping hand. She can't assist his landing down below - falling onto her concrete arm isn't much better than the solid floor. Instead she urges him to descend ahead of her while she provides a last-ditch telekinetic shove to at least keep the crowd off the two.

    When Veronica lands below, it's not even a second before some of Sotheby's 'eraser fluid' drips down, already commingled with liquefied Walden, to land on her blessedly-clothed left arm. Even though the stuff doesn't soak her shirt enough to drip through, it still fizzes where concrete and wet cloth touch. Veronica hisses in pain and casts her gaze around for a way deeper into the labyrinth. "I probably can't 'suit up' near this stuff, not till it's really diluted into the walls," she says.

    Then she remembers Riku! Cursing under her breath, she fumbles through a few jacket pockets to find what scant portions of her first-aid kit she remembered to bring - some gauze and tape, at least, to put some pressure on Riku's injury. "Odette," she says, snappy and businesslike. "Over here."
Schneider Greco      It's common for people to smile with their lips and not their eyes; or with their eyes but not their lips.

     Schneider manages, in the moment Bond tells her about 'finding someone who will make her feel alive', to smile cruel-gleefully with her lips, and smile a different, sadder smile with her stare. "Then may I grow old, hm?"

     "We will save her too. I won't leave you here."
     Then she's crumpling, only half-feignedly, at Vertin's blow to her stomach- perhaps it really did catch her off guard- and being dragged up, then rolling-diving out of the way of Lilian's blast. "Mannaggia, I was not asking you to," she mutters while rising next to the stage's wreckage.

     A flick of her wrist re-materializes her other gun in her left hand; it's the work of a couple dextrous seconds to even out bullets between one and the other, and then she casts a sharp meaningful glance back at the balcony.

     Arcana, of course, is quite above dignifying Schneider with a look.

     Schneider drops down into the hole Sotheby's burned into the floor with a little fluttering of her cape-like-coat, but she's soon joined by a pair of men pursuing. One might take them for rioters- she does, for just a second- but at a safe distance from the balcony's listening ears...

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!!"
"You wouldn't leave us with those crazies, would you?"
"Loreto, Achille--?? No, just go!"
"Go where?!"
"After that woman in the hat! And don't shoot her!"
"Right. I swear the Manus have lost it, this time..."
"... Just trust in me, and you will live."
"You always say that, boss."
"And see? You live."

     As a trio, she and her two mafia goons move with guns drawn; quickly enough to try to gain on Vertin and their allies, but slowly enough White, Holly, and Flamel might catch up with them too.
Tamamo     'We have heard the priest preaching, and now face greater opposition than will allow for leisurely listening. Lilian, we are but a handful of moves from stalemate.'
    'I have as much as can be gleaned. Mr. Bond, your final moves, if you please. Lilian, I have no more to make. There is no ritual here that relates to the Storm's approach.'
    'I have Vertin; exfiltrate now! Do not engage with that woman! Fighting retreat against Concord assets at maximum and get gone!'

    Tamamo has no need, nor any desire, to remain.

    "Oh, Ms. Moissan! Young Ms. Sotheby! Thank goodness." She had thought they were hanging back, rather than entering the terribly dangerous room, but 'hanging back' became the more dangerous of the two as soon as an exit was needed.

    The Stonebelly Buster goes to work, progress marred by softer obstacles, and Tamamo drops her own as she makes her own way there, her attention split between the boundary of the exit and the stage from which Lilian is rescuing Vertin, with little remaining to consider where she's going once past that lip.

    From her handbag, Tamamo pulls out a stack of paper strips, fanning them like a hand of cards, and lets them scatter around the edges of egress. They land and crackle, but the power is restrained until she speaks the activation. They'll form a barrier -- not too difficult for someone particularly powerful to break, but more than painful in the process, with a wracking curse -- once she does, and that's why Tamamo has to pause and look to see that everyone is accounted for, Watch and Paladins and unaffiliated locals all, before she holds up a fistful of dress to keep clear of high heels as she kneels and leaps, herself.
Holly Asturias Spider hat!

    "Oh how adorable!!" Holly is momentarily captivated by her new accessory. She lifts a finger up to play with the enthusiastic passenger on her head, until she has to remember where she is.

"Have I no more than I have."

    THAT is a little bit scary. The idea this might be 'hers' to command went a long way to explain how the whole place shuddered and buckled under her presence. Now it turns out it isn't hers at all, or at least she doesn't claim ownership. So she just does that! On the... bright... side, if she meant to stop them from snooping around, or getting away after snooping around, she likely would - and she isn't.

    Why doesn't that comfort Holly in the slightest?

    Oh, White is leaving.

    "Then my greatest compliments to him," she settles on after spinning too many different sentences. "I should very much like to speak with you again, Lady Arcana," Title and name being unusual for her. "Perhaps after we've seen to the intruders?" Or after the Storm. However that's going to play out.

    ... that hadn't been on her mind for a few minutes now.

    That's scary too. Those people went *insane*. Is she going to if she sticks around? Is *everyone*? It's a bit late to be asking.
    Flamel can shield them... right??

    A million questions and no immediate answers.

    It'd be best not to fall behind. Holly liquefies without warning into a spray of golden blood, which swirls and crashes into White's back, absorbing into her without a trace or a stain. When she speaks, it's as though golden pulses of light briefly make White's skeletal structure visible in bright gold, travelling from the heart to the extremities in soft, pale waves.

    "My eternal thanks for being such a good host as well, White~! And I am happy to report I am not thirsty today, courtesy of the house, so I won't be making inappropriate comments about your fluids."
Tamamo     'Ow--!'
    'Sonetto!'

    With no time to spare at all, Tamamo steps forward and--

    "Lilian! Are you well? Are you wounded?"

    --is distracted for a moment before--

    "Timekeeper, you are--yes, unshot, at least. Here, Ms. Sonetto, take this. Let us not be slowed for anything."

    And gives her a healing talisman like a plastered bandage.
Tamiel Luxis     It wasn't supposed to be like this.

    It was her blessing and curse. Unangelic. To watch, from the sidelines, among but not apart. A shadow, watching the world pass by from the side. A untouched facsimile. This was what it meant, to melt away into the dark.

    That's what it was supposed to have meant.

    Something grasped at her, clung tight, choked. Her various eyes, quelched--something closed hands over them and held them close.

    There was a brief ripple on the floor, a panicked frevor of motion. A hand rose, panicked, from the ground--then vanished, dragged back under. Tamiel was drawn through into no-place, into the dark. She felt hands pluck at her mind--invasively probing, searching, dragging her down, down, down--past thought.

    Panicked, Tamiel drew the scattered remnants of her thoughts inward--she drew inward, a last gasp of sapience--

    --She woke in her room.

    Or at least...it felt like she had.

    Black ooze dripped across the windowsill, onto a starless sky, across a landscape of homes bursting out with something dark and liquid, filling the streets. Bit by bit, that inky corrosion of shadow pressed against the wall--when Tammy looked up, she saw it dripping from ceiling, onto her bed.

    There is no one there, no sound but the creaking wood, bursting inward, as the dark crept in from outside. She stared, terrified, shaking. There's a sound of shattering glass, and the substance creeps inside.

    It would have her, It would drown her. It would subsume her. At least. It'd be over. Would she become part of Her, or be wiped clean from the slate of the world?

    Maybe she was tired of being Tamiel. Maybe it would be easier, if--

    "Rendezvous, Rendezvous!"

    Tamiel blinks, looking around the room, even as it all enroaches on her. She dives for one of her cabinets, trying to follow the sound of the voices. She pulls open a drawer, only to be slashed with darkness-forming hands that clawed around her throat, climbed up her face, as her hands reached throught he dark, and pulled out a notebook.

    "Sotheby! Use your Eraser Fluid! Everyone, come through the gap!"

    It spoke in her hands. She opened it in a flurry, as the last of the black fingers threatened to close over her eyes, and saw a light--

    --A shadow on the ground buoyed upward, a membrane, struggling to keep tight shut. The points of wingtips protruded from the spot, until suddenly it BURST, like a fat tick broken open from the inside, a winged shape fell outward, gasping for air.

    Her wings gave terrified, futile flaps, before she fled, first on all fours, then forced back up to her feet, following the sound of familiar voices as she tried to wipe all of this...STUFF free of her.
Regulus While Regulus is doing her own bullshit, APPLe makes contact with Sotheby! "Ah!" He exclaims in surprise (though not hurt or horror) as Sotheby pulls him in close to her body. This isn't really necessary tactically or anything but maybe having a guardian apple with her will put the young girl at ease. He will be his bodyguard as best a fruit such as he can be. "Well the Captain and I share a few tricks. She's been quite impressed with your alchemy, and I scarcely think she's the only one."

But of course Ms. Moissan is a bodyguard with the additional power of legs and also cannot be physically held back by Sotheby hugging her, theoretically. He dispels the shimmer of light around the two of them, briefly shining up like a disco ball in Sotheby's arms before going back to his usual red.

''Or does she have special knowledge of the Storm itself?''

Regulus skids to a stop before the goopy hole before she sees that Ms. Moissan is taking her friend APPLe along inside as well. She clucks her tongue uneasily before she hops on through herself.

"She certainly ''feels'' like she does." Regulus says of Arcana having special knowledge. "Don't think I've ever seen a 'stab yourself in the brain and be totally fine' Arcane skill before. And ... in the Stairway she could just see right through mine. Too precisely to be reading footprints, it's like it wasn't even activate at all."

She wants to be thanked too! But she's eyeballing that watch of Vertin's. It still feels like a lot of time. Surely they could find their way out of here in a day and get in the suitcase easy peasy right?

''Ow--!''

"Ah! Are you okay, Sonetto?" She looks at the blood seeping through.

"Odette, can't you do something, real fast?" Regulus asks, and then as if anticipating complaint she adds, "We need to take care of that or she could slip or have difficulty moving."

''The name has appeared in our documentation of Manus Vindictae activities before.''

Regulus swallows. "Is this the first time the Foundation's actually laid eyes on her?"

''It's different.''

"It's become a labrynth. And if they can change it freely it surely won't be easy to move through it." She considers. "But maybe they could only move it once..."

Regulus isn't...particularly hurt at all but the fact that she's putting a second candy in her mouth probably means she's running low on arcane energy! But she did mostly avoid the fighting except for blasting Flamel in the face with light and also the general mob.

"We should take care of our wounds first for real if it's gonna be a lot harder moving through than we thought."
Flamel Parsons     Flamel adjusts his sunglasses, trying to blink the blindness out of his eyes... He eventually settles for keeping them shut, and casually projecting a translucent purple eye at his forehead. Hell, was that there the whole time? He's got to make eye contact, though, so he's got to have *some* kind of eye to finally, properly look at Arcana with. "Oh, so, *cleaving*, is the *whole* of the goal! I've worked with conspiracies that are about cleaving. Well," He gives an easygoing, upbeat shrug. "You know, I've always felt it's easier to make separations like that when people are in their right mind. *Clarity* is notoriously great for separations and sifting!"

    Her brains are leaking out. Is there *any* telepathy with that? Unless Flamel's own brain is similarly removed, there's not a known, recorded way to astrally project into a fully externalized brain like that... Much less one that's so stomach-twistingly fluid. He tries to slick back some frazzled hair and mentally censor some of her, uh, unique fluidity for the sake of politeness. "Anyway," He says, his beaming smile wide. "I've been working on the Storm Syndrome, which seems like a big obstacle to sane and sensible sifting when it affects Arcanists. I'm given to understand your work helps protect those Arcanists from the influence of the Storm... And! I was hoping," He puts a hand on his chest, gives a head-incline (mirroring a gesture he's seen Forget-Me-Not do a few times). "That the *Guiding One* might guide *me* to help spread her protection and improve that sifting."

    He rubs his eyes a bit, flashing the widest smile he can have, to help make his glazing be a little more open-to-interpretation -- whether that be as a joke or as a sincere show of respect, whichever is optimal. "I've been floundering a little with my counterpattern and where to deliver it! Rude to harass you the minute you're here, I'm sure, but I'm a bit late on my deadline. You wouldn't share some insights, would you? My mind's quite open to any wisdom you could offer." He blinks the third eye a few times just to demonstrate a sincere gap in his head.
Lilian Rook     'Run!'

    That had been the signal, more than anything. Regulus was first to grip Lilian's hand, breaking through the delirious haze of anger and adrenaline and the waves of crashing bodies that dictated by their tide the ebb and flow of catharsis and sickening anxiety; but then it was the sound of Vertin's voice that pulled her along by it, and Lilian's head broke water, and cold fear for someone's life filled her lungs where there had only been the drowning heat and sweat and blood of desperate meat.

    She'd only fought halfway through the crowd to the stage by that time, and remembered only after that she had started because the sight of that human tide swaming like flies offering up Vertin as cattle to the slaughter had purged all higher reasoning from her body. The one good turn she does for Schneider on her way out is utterly thoughtless; an automatic impulse of deceit and showmanship, the type of lies made every day with her hands and not her thoughts. Those only come back to her once her feet hit the cold ground underneath the stage and her knees bend under the weight of Vertin and her suitcase so that the Timekeeper isn't bruised by her arms.

    Thought returns just as Vertin's feet follows hers. Distracted, side-glancing, she spots her own bloody knuckles, and withdraws her hands all at once. She tries to surreptitiously wipe her hands on the back of her skirt, but the venous stains of shallowly split skin are dotted into more than one place already. The black spatter soaked into the back of her shirt commands her attention away from them all, once she feels it match the cold of the labyrinth instead of the heat of her skin. She tugs at her shirt to peel it from her back.

    'Thank you, Lilian,'

    "No need to thank me yet, Timekeeper. Not until we're done, at least." says Lilian. Her face is oddly pale. The isolating layer of the Walden floor, cutting her off from the throngs above, starts her hands shaking, until she clenches them still. "Whatever the case, right now, there being no ritual at all is good for us. That means there's nothing worth risking staying for; we know all we know, and we won't know more unless we take one of them for interrogation." she says. For a moment, she hesitates, and looks half-hopeful.

    'Ow--!'

    "Sonetto! Oh thank goodness." Lilian softly shouts as if she intends to rush towards her, though it's Tamamo she chooses to instead. She stays off her only for the few seconds left to finish the seal-setting, then chances a very brief, tight squeeze, turning back away from the hole in short order and pulling her by the hand a short ways into the shadows.

    'Lilian! Are you well? Are you wounded?'

    "I'm fine, I'm fine." she says, dusting herself of imaginary filth out of self-consciousness. "Just a bruise or two I think." She doesn't even know that much. It could be worse, and she only doesn't feel it for now, or she might be injured not at all, and that'd be worse. "Just get going! We don't have to stay and fight them anyways!" Lilian takes her own advice quickly. She would like to put her back to the Walden for more reasons than one.

    'The spike she wore, it went through her head. I could not identify any clear weak points, but a wound of that caliber did not seem to cause her any discomfort at all. I do not know...'

    "You don't have standing assassination orders, do you?" Lilian says, expecting a negative answer. In the process of figuring out what to say to Sonetto to encourage her out and not back, several thoughts occur to her in sequence, and Lilian shows a stiff grimace. "The black fluid is hers." she says, twisting her upper body partway to try and show it. "It's possible we can track her via divination later. So don't worry about it at the moment. We have a straight shot to--"
White      Holly's embarkment before she's actually departed comes sooner than expected, but White adjusts quickly enough. A seven-to-three vote in the council of Kumoko determines that they still have more important things to be considering than the implications of having another woman inside of her, with one confused little voter justifying that it's only fair after White put a part of herself in Ariel. That voter is put on the time-out stool in a corner of White's mind.

     More immediately relevant is Tamamo's barrier. White's confidence against, specifically, a deified being of sacred sunlight and fire isn't as strong as it would be if she jumped into a burning munitions warehouse, so she doesn't want to challenge the barrier directly from too close. Even Holly is kind of an 'ice type' too, right? Better not risk the x4 type disadvantage when she doesn't have much information on the kinds of curses Tamamo can produce.

     So, rather than break through it herself, she scouts by seeing through the ground, finding a spot that feels far enough away from the barrier further down the tunnel that she can safely teleport to it without risking the effect. Schneider and her companions can be brought along too, but White isn't waiting around to ferry every possible pursuer as well; it's actually better for her if less people can follow! Less scrutiny, overall, at least up until someone else deals with the barrier instead.
Odette Raskins Before, Odette had barely been able to cling onto her sanity. Between the rush of emotions sweeping through the Walden driving the humans inside to madness and despair over all those losses in mere moments, and the terror that had hit her when the Lady Arcana made her awareness of the invisible group apparent, it took all of her focus just to avoid being swept up in that madness. It wasn't until she had heard more familiar voices through the chaos, along with the call from Vertin to dive in, that she finally pulled her legs free from the hands weighing her down to clamber onto a railing, shielded her eyes from James' stun capsule, and then dove right for the opening to the labyrinth below.

Now safely rejoining the group in their escape through the labyrinth and only busting open her forehead with that jump, Odette spares only a moment to look back and around the surrounding region of the labyrinth before busting out the ever-trusty patches of slow-acting recovery patches and fast-acting pain relievers.

"Coming! Thank you!" Veronica's call helps her focus on her main method of assistance, and she slaps both types of patches around Riku's wound before adding some more bandages of her own, both to stop the bleeding and keep any potential fractures underneath that from getting too aggravated during the escape.

Hearing Sonetto's 'Ow' and Regulus' call for aid gets Odette's attention on her and Vertin as well. "Oh! Y-yes, coming!" She calls out in reply, breathing a sigh of relief as Tamamo gets to her with a healing talisman. That doesn't stop her from rushing over anyway, of course, with her own patches to make sure that Sonetto's ability to act remains unhampered.

"Alteration... So they've taken this big market crash and made it happen sooner? If that's the case, then that means we can stop the next one, right? I-if we know what the big event is supposed to be?"

Tightening her cap to try and stop the bleeding from getting into her eyes, the EMT scrunches up against a corner when Vertin does, waiting until the goopy hand disappears before hurrying over to supply Lilian with the same patches next. "If we can't go back out the way you came in... Um. Crap. Yeah, what Regulus said. If we can find a spot to hide out in for just a minute, we can get you all in better shape."

Despite that, she's still looking behind herself warily, anxiously watching out for pursuers.
Lilian Rook     'what?'
    'It's different. There ought to be shortcuts all the way to the exit. The walls must have rearranged themselves.'

    "Oh fuck me running." Lilian hisses. "What was the point of all that then?!" follows, as if the indignity of invalidating all of her effort were more pressing than the extremely bad situation in front of them. The way she draws her sword is unlike her first time in the labyrinth; the metal rasps to fit the unusually rough gesture. "If the compass is useless, I'll get us out the same way I got us in. I'll sign like this when I need twenty-- no, ten seconds." she says, demonstrating by using a basic military 'halt and stay quiet' signal.

    'We should take care of our wounds first for real if it's gonna be a lot harder moving through than we thought.'

    Lilian shakes her head. "Unless your guts are falling out right now, it can wait. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you all to walk it off." No sooner has she said it than she advances around the corner in a burst of motion to take out a wandering monster from surprise, then gesture into the corridors. "Any direction is better than right here for now! And Vertin." Lilian stares at her. "Whatever you're planning with Schneider, tell me as we go."
Ein The labyrinth, outside of Sotheby's Eraser Fluid ground zero, is like a foreign hive or ant mound. The mouth of it, that Moissan slides down into and resumes her combat pace through the still-steaming hole through stony viscera, tromping over fallen pantry doors and cellarway and into a long moth-eaten cross-intersection. Vertin and Sonetto stop short, seeing a hand scraping past along the far path, down a T, and Moissan continues on, Sotheby in arms.

There, even at the front, a standing-ready individual in a greatcoat with blue lapel and scarfing and a cyclopean 'mask' that seems more like it has replaced head entirely swings out a large hand to arrest Moissan and succeeds for a moment, spilling Sotheby past her encounter and hammering away the arm holding her with length of mallet before carrying the Manus bouncer into the wall with a shout.

Sotheby scrambles away, back a pace towards Sonetto and Vertin, and Moissan turns to hip throw the bouncer, bearing down immediately with her mallet-bar to choke the large humanoid to death with knee to chest and violet grit to teeth as she focuses her whole weight and force there. Each second she bought for silence--!

Sotheby scooches back, startled to standing, pointing at Schneider and her two goons.

Agape, she stands there processing and pointing. The gears have slipped badly, and perhaps weren't arranged normally to start, but Sotheby reassembles them upon seeing Schneider and her two mafia goons with a surprised snap of slightly sullied glove to part-cover mouth.

"You're a proper lady too, aren't you? What're you doing here?! Have you been dragged on this mad excuse for a party too?" Sotheby gasps, immediately Associating with Schneider and her goons like they were her people with a relieved flutter of breath and torn giggles. "Some proper bodyguards are a real relief! Ms. Moissan is incredible, but relying on your tutor for bodyguarding is poor of a lady! That rough business isn't common knowledge at all, is it?"

Ms. Moissan's portrait doesn't show her eyes as she finishes choking out a single Manus bouncer, breath heaving.

"Timekeeper." Moissan exhales, turning to appraise Schneider and try slightly unsuccessfully to insinuate herself towards Sotheby's happy flutter around that group as they appear. "We have to keep moving. Are they coming with us?"

The brief exchange, with Schneider immediately chasing after Vertin and choices piling up when Vertin pauses, buys Regulus and Odette the time they might want to tend to wounds and allows Regulus to regroup with APPLe, but only long enough to quick apply some bandages or powder and set a puncture or similar sub-minute triages or similar.

"If we know our bearings, we can still use the same exit, even if we have to clear the walls manually back." Ms. Moissan instructs, hearing the steady motion of footsteps and heartbeat of approach bearing down around them like choking hands.

From down the hallway Lilian covers, a ''robed'' individual with limbs extending out of their strange body captured in a floating empty triangle, lurching towards Lilian to take hold of her and drag her, and behind that, another bearing another triangle as chime, ringing it as gnostic implement and sending waves of kinetically visible distortion that assault the senses with vertigo and a lurching nausea at being a living tuning fork being struck.

Worse still, there is a building-settling creak that rumbles through the labyrinth as if the whole of it rode the shifts of a Faultline that just became active, rattling in a dust-falling faintly new arrangement.

Did things change again? Oriented, does it make a difference?

Was there anything else to be done?
Riku Asakura Veronica, thankfully, helps Riku into the portal to the basement, and then once more when they get down.  Odette is called over, and once a patch or two is put on, Riku pulls away.  "Lilian is right, we don't have time, this will have to do.  Come on, we have to go."

It was at this point that Sotheby points out Schneider.  "Crap!" he calls out, and aims to try and grip Sotheby's hand, and pull her towards the group, and away from Schneider.  He's still limping, but it's not as bad as it was a moment ago.  Thanks to Odette, but it's still far from being healed or properly taken care of.  

"I know it's crazy right now, Ms. Sotheby, but we have to get out of here before things get worse for us," he says, trying to urge her along.  Trying to mask his own panic, because he doesn't have time in the Fusion Riser, and he's injured to boot.  He'd not last long against Schneider and her goons.  

He tries to keep pace with Vertin and stay behind Lilian, who's clearing Manus monsters ahead of them, but they're being pressed into a trap, it feels like.  
Timekeeper "And ... in the Stairway she could just see right through mine."

    "Right." This would be a really bad time for Vertin to mention that Regulus's arcane skill isn't very effective on her either, with the fluctuations of arcanum that it gives off still giving an 'outline' for her to see by. That might be similar to how Arcana did it, though, so she'll keep that in mind for later.

    "We've learned a lot scattershot of her capabilities, but nothing of why or how. Could she be personally responsible for the masks?" Vertin shoots a look towards Lilian, who has one stored in her bag-- but again, that's a problem for later at the LSCC.

    "Ah-! The masks; there were many prepared up on the second floor for the Manus Vindictae to pass to the humans in exchange for loyalty." Sonetto sabotaged the effort with binding and breaking arcanum, but that just means that there weren't masks being showered on the crowd when they left. "We should be conscious of the fact that many more monsters will come soon after."

    "Then we can't delay." Even as Vertin takes the talisman from Tamamo's hand and kneels down to plaster it on Sonetto's leg for her, she's antsy to get going. "We only have a slight lead on the Concord. Whatever wounds that aren't critical can wait."

"Is this the first time the Foundation's actually laid eyes on her?"

    "Yes." Not that the Foundation tends to announce when it has a gap in its knowledge, unless it's commanding someone to fill it, but Vertin is obsessive about keeping abreast of the intel on the Manus and the Storm. By her telepathic powers, or simply by intuiting that Regulus is stressed out of her mind right now for good reason, she adds, "It's invaluable. Thank you, Regulus."
Timekeeper "You don't have standing assassination orders, do you?"

    Sonetto shakes her head, diligently working her leg as the healing magic filters through to get back to full speed as quickly as she can. The next thing Lilian says has her looking at the spot on Lilian's shirt, then turning to Tamiel, stumbling along behind the group with black slime running off of her.

    "! The black fluid is the same as what came out of her body! She may be able to track *us* through it as well-- Tamiel, Mrs. Tamamo, we must clean it away immediately."

    Tamamo's assistance is requested because of the obvious fact that the goo must be cursed. Sonetto's sleeve is torn, and she tears it off completely to wrap her hand and help wipe the goo off of Tamiel as quickly as she can. She eyes the droplets that Tamiel left behind her uneasily. "Could any of it become monstrous...?"

    As everyone around her finishes up the rapid round of triage, Vertin checks the watch again-- a bad habit still, and then pokes her head through the melted archway into the next hallway. Neither side, looking in either direction, seems any more promising than the other-- just long stretches of stone lit with torches, with indistinguishable doors dotting either side, ending in intersections both too soon to feel like progress and too far to feel safe for a quick check before backtracking.

    "Let's go. We have to move forwards no matter what. We can only hope that the Manus and Concord have no knowledge better than ours on the layout of the tunnels right now, and pick a direction and move."

    That means fighting through monsters too, whenever they pop up. Disembodied hands, masked waiters and waitresses encased in the black goop and wielding weapons made of the same, even just scattered carbuncles disturbed from a dusty corner.

"Whatever you're planning with Schneider, tell me as we go."

    For a moment, Vertin's chat portrait has both her eyes shaded by the brim of her hat, before she lifts her face again. "I don't believe Schneider will be sheltered from the Storm by the Manus Vindictae. If she defects to join us, I'll protect her in the suitcase, and to try and save her sister who is held hostage by them as well."
Schneider Greco      "I see... Have a nice wait."
     "And also to thee," purrs Arcana as White departs. She does not raise a hand to stop anyone. Or, perhaps, it's more accurate to say she does not lift a finger.

     "I should very much like to speak with you again, Lady Arcana"
     "You as well, far traveler." Surely Arcana knows the names of the Concord elites, but has she asked or spoken them, even once? Tasting Holly's blood before even being introduced... With that dangerously sharp edge again: "We shall see if it is fated."

     "... that the *Guiding One* might guide *me* to help spread her protection and improve that sifting."
     "'Improve the sifting'..." Now that Holly and White are leaving, her attention smoothly pivots to Flamel alone. With the turn of her head, one last piece of 'bone' gives way from the recent re-sheathing and the barbed wand sinks in another quarter-inch.

     The torrent of goop burbles.

     "I would not spill a drop of arcanist blood in vain. But the sifting shall continue until all those unworthy are filtered out." Is that a statement of intent, or a declaration of the way things are? For Arcana is there a difference? "Hopest thee to make it more perfect, thou must covet further destruction, yes?"
Tamiel Luxis     Tamiel doesn't so much STEP through the hole in the floor rather than FALLS through, taking a violent tumble down the slope and skid shortly across the floor. She looks up, through still-dripping locks of red hair, at a masked shape above her, like a baby bird left alone in the nest with a snake peering over the side.

    Ms Mossian though, was there to pick up the slack, as Tamiel lumbered to her feet. She clasped at her throat, checking for something that wasn't there, and breathed, breathed hard, as though any moment those black hands would clasp over her face again.

    Delicately, she plucked at her own shadow--and it stood up and hugged her from behind. After a shocked jolt, she relaxed, happy to realize this one, at least, still belonged to her.

    "Tamiel, Mrs. Tamamo, we must clean it away immediately."

    "Yes please," her voice came out hoarse, feeble. "It's--It's--It was--" She groped for words, and didn't find any of them. Instead, she went for, "--My light--Can't clean myself. I'm sorry"
Tamamo     There's always time for a brief squeeze. There had better be!

    . . .

    The second extends purely underground; an enchantment partially of space and partially of animation. It seems to define the corridors and the tunnels of the Walden, making the place almost like a living thing.

    The third is every bit of black-- drool? blood? soil?-- across the Walden, dripping from the masks, across the floors, and from Arcana's head. The function of this magic is unclear, if it has one, but doubtless local.

    . . .

    She tugs at her shirt to peel it from her back.

    'The black fluid is hers.'

    Tamamo looks for any mark that was left. "We should expect it to function as an extension of 'her,' in the worst case. It may be impossible to remove without notice, but as we have already been noticed, that is a smaller risk. If there is a more specific or esoteric purpose, I have not yet determined it. As well, there is a separate magic affecting the underground, which may be under some active control. It should be taken to be an animate labyrinth, and we will need enact greater violence in our retreat."

    'Whatever you're planning with Schneider, tell me as we go.'

    "Yes, Timekeeper Vertin, please do explain how you seduced the enemy's champion duelist." It's often very difficult to tell how much Tamamo is joking. "In terms of its tactical consideration, of course."
Schneider Greco      "Thank you, my-la-dy White," Schneider purrs while smoothing herself, warped to the other side of the barrier.
"Whoa--!"
"Boss, can't you make more normal friends...?"
"Show some respect, Achille."
"Hey, yeah, she was at that party. Remember?"
"Your spare forty-five. Give it to me."
"Alright, alright..."

     Sharp breath out, while she methodically reloads her guns and briskly near-jogs. "We've got to catch up to them, and then get Marian. Oh, my-la-dy White, I am sorry; the favors I ask of you, they always turn out the worst, right?"

     Rounding the corner, to find Sotheby and Moissan and the Manus goon, Schneider's minions look to her example, and she coolly flicks her wrist and--

     Shii~iing, splat.

     The gun becomes throwing-knives like black feathers, and the strangled Manus bouncer's head becomes a spray, just to make double-sure.

     "We are coming with you," answers Schneider, who is not asking, with a now-black-flecked face. Her breathlessness leaves her, for breathiness, just long enough to relieve herself with the tiniest spot of humor: "Mmmh, does a prop-er lady have bodyguards? Should-not you know to clean your own messes?"

     Only a second or two to spare on that, though. Exhale. She looks small in her coat, for once, as her eyes wander to Vertin. "And I do-not think you'd make it on your own." Her men are looking at her nervously as the Manus bouncer's goo drips from what used to be his head. "My-la-dy White, which way to Marian now?"
Regulus ''But relying on your tutor for bodyguarding is poor of a lady!''

"Nevertheless, she seems quite capable at teaching these ruffians a lesson." APPLe, as a floating apple, is naturally predisposed to wordplay like this. And of course like an apple is someone that can be presented to a teacher to get in their good graces.

''You're a proper lady oto, aren't you?''

Regulus turns her head and spots Schneider and she squeaks out a, "Peace and love!" partially because she doesn't know who is watching right now but also because it's very important to reassert her battlecry so people know exactly what sort of battle she's engaging in. "Are you joining us? In uh. Bodyguarding Sotheby?" She asks. She nods when Schneider gives her answer.

APPLe is staying with Sotheby because Regulus hasn't called him over yet and also because she's still in Sotheby's grip, but he's a appleguard right now so this is where he thinks he should be. "We've, like fifteen hours." As a believer in peace and love and also love and peace, she's not inclined to attack Schneider either. She's already imagined the cute shit and she can't raise an arm against Schneider even more than usual. Besides, she's a pacifist. If she blinds Flamel for an hour it's for the express intent and purpose to stop him from getting in the way of world peace and also because she's rather annoyed with him for trapping her in a torment nexus for like two weeks.

''We should be conscious of the fact that many more monstesr will come soon after.''

"Yay." Regulus says in a tone that does not communicate a 'Yay' at all but may be translated into phrases like 'oh bugger me' by context.

''Thank you, Regulus.''

Regulus takes a breath and lets it out through her mouth. If nothing else, she does seem a little more calm--only a little, of course, but a little may be the difference between getting hit by the Storm Syndrome sooner rather than later. She grimaces at the idea of the lady who just casually has a spike through her head being able to, just, like, track them through goo which feels like it's flippin' everywhere. How does the Foundation expect to contend with this lady? Or are they just doing so out of blind desperation?

''I'll protect her in the suitcase, and to try and save her sister--'' Her shades hide her aside glance to White though she's not sure there's meaning in obscuring their connection anymore.

"How are we going to do that?" Regulus asks. "--My, uh, contact? Mentioned teleporting them to the Foundation but we don't have time to get there on our own."

''Please do explain how you seduced the enemy's champion duelist.''

Regulus grimaces but, well, they WERE on a stage and surely everybody noticed. She really hopes Vertin doesn't get into more trouble over this. Maybe she should tell the Foundation that no, Vertin is just covering for her. Take her instead, Vertin is innocent don't worry about it and Schneider really was so helpful. How was she helpful? Well she didn't shoot Vertin in the face. That is a very helpful thing to do. She also only shot Regulus once which maybe is less helpful than shooting Regulus zero times but at least she wasn't shot two times.
Flamel Parsons     "Hopest thee to make it more perfect, thou must covet further destruction, yes?"
    Flamel puts his hand on his chin. He thinks a moment, an odd look when he's got the one third-eye there. "Tough sell. More destruction... Well, who am I to argue? Good talk! I've got a lady with a mysteriously significant briefcase to chase down. I'll see about destruction." He nods agreeably, and then, suddenly, completely vanishes into invisibility.

    A clack of the balcony rail and a short "Ow!" Gives away his movement as he leaps down towards the hole. He's more clairvoyance than sight at the moment.

    ---

    Flamel is surging through the tunnels, clairvoyant vision finding footsteps. Where walls move, he'll maneuver around with spy-tech gadgetry and sheer overwhelming psychic awareness. With clairvoyance being all he has at the moment, his radar is actually working in peak condition, so his pulses might give away his presence...

    Yet he'll only close in by the time Schneider has already given away the game, killing the Manus goon brutally. "Guh! Nobody can keep their brains in their heads today!" He says, urgently, flicking out of invisibility and trying to blindly dodge away from the spray of blood. "Hrk. Ahh-- Oh! Okay, I've de-censored the plan. We're going loud about getting Marian out? Gah, dang, I was really hoping for a full duel to get them *sure* you were on opposite sides. Oh well, improvisation's key to spywork. I'll start seeding fake memories in the Manus ahead, let them know they saw you all getting chased by Schneider and the rest of us down some dead-ends. I should be able to keep backup off you, and keep the intel lines clogged up with junk for a bit."

    Team Timekeeper gets a gleeful wink. Flamel only has the one eye, the third-eye on his forehead, to wink with, which makes it more of a sort of, uh, playful blink? "See you in a bit, though you won't reciprocate!" And he vanishes, intending on moving ahead with whatever guidance White's superior awareness of the area can give him direction, pinging his psychic radar for Marian's mind and astrally ripping up any clear-minded Manus he can find to program them with fake memories of Schneider and her gang stampeding down incorrect hallways, chasing Team Timekeeper vigorously.
Tamamo     'Tamiel, Mrs. Tamamo, we must clean it away immediately.'

    Tamamo knew this would happen!

    '--My light--Can't clean myself. I'm sorry.'

    Fortunately, this is well within her capabilities. It would be even easier if it were 'shadows' they were dealing with, rather than something like 'soil' or 'remains,' but removing earthly curses and poisons is a perfectly common need -- from her perspective.

    Tamamo gets those needing it into a smaller space, fussing a bit about them in the process, laying out her salt circle in the labyrinth floor and burning away a binch of something that smells sweet. It's as quick and efficient a work as could be expected, though there's going to be some lost clothing in the process. There just isn't the extra time to justify the risk of doing laundry, here.

    . . .

    'Mmmh, does a prop-er lady have bodyguards? Should-not you know to clean your own messes?'

    "It is proper for a lady to have a knight," comes a near non sequitur of a reply. Tamamo looks at Schneider...

    ...of whom she first learned, having shot Lilian...
    ...of whom she first took sight, engaging in bloodsports...
    ...with whom she first spoke, concerning inappropriate photos being sent to a married woman...

    'We are coming with you.'

    ...and looks to Vertin for her answer, not to that, but to the earlier question.
Lilian Rook     'Could she be personally responsible for the masks?'

    "God only knows." Lilian half-whispers. "All I know is that my instincts don't lie about danger." She doesn't even bother to clarify. "It seems a perfectly good way to become the grand leader of this sort of cult, doesn't it?"

    'We should be conscious of the fact that many more monsters will come soon after.'

    Lilian flicks back her eyes and scans the group only once. "Asakura is badly depleted from getting us in and holding off the Concord. Sonetto is mildly injured but appears to still be in fighting shape. I'm more or less fine. So is Tamamo and Moissan. I don't want to rely on Regulus nor Vertin nor especially Ms. Sotheby for fighting. I don't know about the Watch otherwise. These tunnels are a shit place to engage them, but with our present forces, punching through a point in encirclement at-cost should work fine." She looks at Vertin gratefully when the Timekeeper's injury assessment lines up with hers.

    '! The black fluid is the same as what came out of her body! She may be able to track *us* through it as well-- Tamiel, Mrs. Tamamo, we must clean it away immediately.'

    Lilian freezes up just as she reaches the next corner. Stoic denial wages war with more cool-headed analysis, and she hisses, frustrated-dejected, "--Oh you're joking!" With a lack of reluctance brought upon only by impatience and tactical urgency, Lilian wrangles her white outer shirt off her body and throws it away in the corridor, leaving her bereft of even vaguely Foundation-aligned identification, and in the unfortunately non-insulating charcoal sleeveless-backless halterneck above the corset-line.

    'Could any of it become monstrous...?'

    "If it does, I'll step on it." Lilian growls, unhappy about discarding anything over such a small blot. Her stormy bad mood only abates when Tamamo says,

    'Yes, Timekeeper Vertin, please do explain how you seduced the enemy's champion duelist.'

    "I told you, didn't I? Forward thinking, keen analysis, an excellent head for character and allegiance, and unconventional planning. I've been saying she had a plan all along." Lilian almost smiles.

    She stops very quickly when the next Manus goon grabs her around the corner. Without dripping black ichor and fangs, she hesitates to identify it as man or monster, and the opening that leaves is enough for the speed of sound to catch up to her ears before she registers it as magic. Clapping her hand-and-forearm over her ears by reflex, lowering her gaze to footwork level, Lilian breathes deep and holds it by force against the urge to retch. Her unsteadiness leads to being pulled right around the blind corner by the second goon, like something out of a horror movie, gripped by the arm and dragged.

    A moment later, she drops Night Mist from the seized arm, catches it by the hilt in the other hand, and improvising with its backwards tilt, drives the pommel into the monster's sternum while twisting her grappled arm back to falter its grip. The instant she's free, the left hand juggles her blade back to the raised right, and a flick of the wrist brings it back down through the triangleist from shoulder to hip. Before the second can strike the instrument again and make her state of dizzy illness worse, she kicks the first into its comrade, lunges into its void, and doubles the stroke from below, leg-to-neck.

    She's just in time to see Moissan wrest herelf free of her attacker, and to swear about the cramped quarters. Lilian adjusts her grip on Night Mist in some inarticulable fashion, and the minute etchings down the center-blade flood with dull red.
James Bond The alteration of history's turning points and disasters is the means by which the Manus accelerate it-- without a plain ritual at all.

    "I don't understand," Bond says. "Does that mean the only way to stop it is to ensure history goes the way it... was originally recorded?" He doesn't want to say 'should.' Not in the context of disasters like the Great Depression.

There ought to be shortcuts all the way to the exit. The walls must have rearranged themselves.

    "Then the walls have fucked us," he sourly replies. "Especially if Schneider catches up to us and decides to shoot first."

    Glancing towards Riku, "I suppose you'll need to recharge ahead of any excavation." Veronica already explained she'll have trouble.

we won't know more unless we take one of them for interrogation.

    "Let's put a pin in that."

I'll sign like this when I need twenty-- no, ten seconds.

    Bond nods. "Alright. It'd help if I had a sidearm." He did lose his earlier. "All I've got right now is a few darts, a knife and a cutting laser."

We are coming with you.

    "That was fast." He doesn't actually believe she's defecting. A joke can offer levity in stressful situations.
Veronica     Vertin: "Let's go. We have to move forwards no matter what.

    Veronica nods sharply, and stands from her spot next to Riku to help the Normalman to his feet. "Can you put weight on that okay? Lean on me if you need to." Looking around at the stone walls, she considers her options. "This stuff is all even, and who knows how far the walls go up or down... I'd need time to figure out if or where it's safe to break, and we don't have that." A pause to think as she begins to move with the group. "I don't think this place was *built*. Grown, maybe?"

    Schneider: "We are coming with you,"

    "You're-- fine. If Vertin says we're not fighting you, then we're not fighting you." She shrugs. "You reckon folks upstairs won't want you after this mess, or what?"

    While the Elites discuss which way to go, Veronica examines her concrete hand. "I know what I can do. Odette, could you help Riku along?" Passing him off invites a little guilt, but Veronica knows Odette's the better doctor.

    As soon as the crew is clear enough of their makeshift entrance to be outside the 'drip zone' of Sotheby's eraser fluid, the thousand hands of Baker and Seventh envold Veronica once again. This time there's not very much material at all, rather more a suit than a vehicle, but it's enough to get the speakers out and that's all Veronica needs.

    When next coming to an intersection, she steps forward and her EGO's speakers click-click-click with soft little sonar pings. It takes her a few seconds to sort the returning signals out, at which point she speaks up (at normal volume). "Dead end that way," she says, thumbing down one of the hallways. "Forty meters or so. Don't feel any rooms at the end, neither."

    Echolocation in this tangled an environment takes most of Veronica's concentration, so she isn't well suited for fighting at the same time, but she can tell which tunnels are or aren't promising. While Schneider confers with White as to Marian's location, Veronica's invisible sonic feelers will say which of the twists and turns to avoid - and hopefully reveal a possible route by process of elimination.
Lilian Rook     'If we know our bearings, we can still use the same exit, even if we have to clear the walls manually back.'

    "We'll have to. Asakura is in no state to dig the whole way back out, and there's too many of you to handle teleporting." Lilian says, first truthfully, then to cover her ass. "I . . ." Lilian begins to speak, then shakes her head, instead holding up her fist like before, shutting her eyes and stilling her breath to focus on 'micro-divining' the next dozen bends.

    'We are coming with you'

    "Mother of--!" Lilian spins a half circle around to face Schneider. Her sword leaps up to a one-handed middle guard on instinct, strangely blunted by actually recognizing the two men behind her; probably by their slightly-shabbier-than-patrons suits. "Beg pardon, but you're not coming with us if you're going anywhere but 'out of here'." she says. A second later, she reaches into one of her belt compartments, then tosses Schneider the empty magazine back, as if it helps in any way shape or form.

    'My-la-dy White, which way to Marian now?'

    Lilian stares blankly, or perhaps suspiciously. It takes her a second to put two and two together.

    '--try and save her sister who is held hostage by them as well.'

    "Oh Vertin you absolute--" Lilian scrunches something down, then huffily replaces it with "--cow." a second later. "Do we really have the margin to be doing this right now? When did you make a deal like that? Do you even know where she is?"
Tamiel Luxis     "I'll...do what I can..."

    As Tamamo gets to work on Tammy's own curses, she focuses on the others, trying to work through the haze of her focus. A soft light glows about Tamiel's body, flickering at first, and then more persistant. It feels like after long night in the cold, when you sit by a fire and reach out your hands, and feel the warmth to your bones. The light draws a line, between what belongs and what doesn't--and the goop is quite firmly on the opposite side of that line.

    Registering as a kind of sickness, as something unwelcome, something unwanted, it struggles to burn away the gunk. At least...As long as it's on anyone else. Between the two of them, maybe chasing away the shadows would be quick--

    Her senses are too slow--she barely even registers Schneider's presence, before she hears the sharp report of the gun, turning her head to see...A broken monster, with Schneider holding the opposite end of it. "...You know." Tamiel said, "It...Kind of seems you're on different sides. Every time we see you..."

    She listens, holding out her wings so that Tamamo can have easy access to them, and feeling uneasy with every extra scrap had to be cut away from her clothing--she'd been drenched in the stuff!--and when a unfamiliar name, 'Marion,' came up, Tammy nodded, slowly. "S-so that's what it was..."

    Tamiel didn't have the power to try to chase Schneider away from them, not like she was now--even if she WANTED to. And her feelings for the gunslinger had become more...complicated. She spared a glance toward the others, chewing on her lip.
Odette Raskins "Any direction is better than right here for now!"
"If we know our bearings, we can still use the same exit, even if we have to clear the walls manually back."
"Odette, could you help Riku along?"

"A-alright! Patches'll have to do, then. We'll worry about setting bones right and getting stuff out later!" Switching gears on a dime at Lilian's and Ms. Moissan's direction, Odette sticks close to Riku and Sonetto to make sure that nobody's lagging behind too much. "D-don't worry, Miss Veronica. I've got him." She offers her shoulder to Riku to help him along, and she keeps looking like she's ready to squat or something while he's limping along.

"Just say the word and I'll get you up." She whispers to Riku, patting her shoulder once as though she means to carry him if he actually takes her up on that. She tenses up when the building creaks, too, and she gives him another vaguely hopeful and questioning look like she's hoping he will, in fact, take her up on that.

Dealing with the monsters that emerge to accost the group is far more difficult for her than just making sure nobody falls behind, though, what with Odette's training being largely limited to using Trideag's weapons. She's still not particularly good with a sword or gun yet, and if she's not hauling Riku around, she'll still favor picking up random junk left behind by other masked wait staff and hurling them around rather than grappling or swinging something directly.

If nothing else, though, Odette's at least a little less noisy about scrambling around and chucking things than she usually is.

"Does any of this look familiar to anyone?" She asksa of the previous labyrinth team, reaching into her carrying case for a moment and sifting through some more of her medical patches by feel. "Maybe that one..? No, no, that one's not going to help much..." She murmurs to herself  while weighing her options rapidly, then perks up when Sonetto makes some predictions about the goo she's wiping off.

"Would burning it help, then? O-or freezing it? Wait, that'd take even longer... Let's hope not!" Eager to get away from what's left behind as quickly as possible, Odette keeps alternating between hurrying people along while also glancing behind herself, ready to call out any pursuers or strange creatures emerging from the darkness.

"I'll protect her in the suitcase, and to try and save her sister"
"Please do explain how you seduced the enemy's champion duelist."

She also catches quite a few things that pique her curiosity, but Odette's not ready to question the why behind of those things just yet. "S... Sounds good! We've come this far, so we can worry about the details later." She tries to assert with some confidence in her voice, trusting entirely in Vertin's judgment at this point. "Do we know where her sister is? She wouldn't happen to be somewhere down here, too, would she? Is there a name we can call out, or a tracker we can follow or something?"

Shii~iing, splat.
"We are coming with you,"
"We're going loud about getting Marian out?"

At first, Odette's internal panic meter spikes when that one Manus' inside-head contents start coming out. Even with Vertin' explaining things prior to Schneider's arrival, the visceral fear response still gets that knot to form in the pit of Odette's stomach. She does calm down a little once it's more clear that Schneider's in on the plan, though, and she even remembers to breathe again when Flamel confirms his own involvement in all this.

"Then you and Miss White...? Oh. Oh, thank god." A whole bunch of tension leaves her with one big sigh of relief.
White      White can't begrudge Schneider's henchmen their quips; it's the kind of thing she wishes Ariel had more often. Someone who takes her seriously but keeps her grounded. Maybe she'd try harder to encourage it another time, but for now she just leaves it at- "I'm... Getting more normal." Schneider's apology, meanwhile, manages to squeeze a faintly tired sigh out of her. "I made my mind up... Before you ever asked." Slower, only right as Schneider starts jogging ahead, she follows up, "... I'm glad... That you let me."

     Once Schneider is reloaded and declares the need for urgency in catching up White is halfway tempted to give the whole group a lift in her other form, but... They were closer on their heels than expected offhand. Moissan- who White has no acquaintance with- is there as they close in and step into view, and White follows the featherblade projectile from Schneider to her target, half-expecting another fight here for the sake of the act. When it's the disabled Manus who ends up finished off, White's face turns sharply toward Schneider like she's double checking something.

     It's time, then! Maybe most people wouldn't read it as relief on her face, but the tension in her shoulders eases and her eyes soften a little when Schneider firmly declares their next steps. Maybe it's a little silly, now, in a such a hurry... But she does fold her hands and make a small bow in Moissan and Sotheby's direction. They don't have time to properly assuage their concerns, probably, but she can at least make the barest gesture of nicety. With Tamamo there, White almost seems to forget before finally noting, "We did... Leave your barrier... Intact. Smart."

     She only briefly looks at Lilian, Riku, Bond, Tamiel, or any of the others who might be quite aggrieved for her contributions at the moment, before nodding at Schneider's question and immediately turning to dart past the entire raid group into the lead. Locating her 'agent' is trivial, and she can greatly speed the group's progress through obtrusive stone with her Earth Magic. "Remember... Mister Flamel. If you're in trouble... Let me know."

Then, she's off. Unless someone decides to make their resentment a 'now' problem, she's more than content to leave it for later like it hasn't crossed her mind at all.
Lilian Rook     'Alright. It'd help if I had a sidearm.'

    Lilian spares an apologetic glance his way. She taps her drop-leg holster and says, "Apologies. I would, but it won't fire for you." Her meaning is clear.

    'Guh! Nobody can keep their brains in their heads today!'

    "If you pull that stunt from earlier, Parsons, I'll figure out a way to make you join them." Lilian huffs. She's usually nicer about this, but she really didn't like motor nerve hijacking.

    '--My, uh, contact? Mentioned teleporting them to the Foundation but we don't have time to get there on our own.'

    Lilian rolls her eyes at Regulus, but says nothing more about her ostensible loyalty to an informant at a mildly stupid time. "We also don't have a disk, remember? We have to get back to the Sotheby place ASAP."

    'That was fast.'

    "And I went and made it look so clean, too." Lilian sighs back in her BBC humour way that she reserves exclusively for James Bond.

    'It is proper for a lady to have a knight'

    "Naturally." says Lilian. She glances down at her bare arms, one still flexed tight to the grip of her sword, and considers the immediate use of armour. Given that the Manus aren't using bullets and knives right now, and it'll chew up her magic if she keeps it up for the hours until the storm, she shakes her head and declines the thought for now.
Holly Asturias "We've got to catch up to them, and then get Marian."

    "And we will, as promised!" pulses Holly from within White, having gotten the free ride she needed back to Schneider's side - and, maybe more pressingly, essentially halfway across the Walden in an instant.

    The unfortunate side-effect is that they are now with everyone else.

    Oh.

    Agitated golden pulses speak out of White, as Holly's disembodied voice frets about previous deeds.

    "I am *so* sorry about having had to harm some of you," she says, with her best tone indicator being how fast the pulses of light coming out of White are. Can light appear to be embarrassed? Apparently so.


"Do you even know where she is?"

    "Ah, Lilian, do not worry! We located her earlier. We were merely waiting for an opportune moment, you see?" She makes nothing of Lilian having shot *her*.

    It's only fair?
    Understandable, at least.

    Besides, she's fine!

    "Allow me to handle all of your wounds once we have a moment to stop and breathe, as repayment. When we last saw Marian, there were mild drugs in her system but nothing life-threatening. It won't take me long to get her back on her feet, so that won't be a concern."
Lilian Rook     'We did... Leave your barrier... Intact. Smart.'

    "So you do know what you're doing." Lilian aggrieved-sighs. "On occasion."

    'I am *so* sorry about having had to harm some of you'

    "I'm not apologizing for shooting you, by the by. You're very fortunate that nothing worse happened to Vertin, and that we need the proprieter alive." Nobody said that. It's just her excuse for shooting without a 'just to make sure' round loaded.

    'Ah, Lilian, do not worry! We located her earlier. We were merely waiting for an opportune moment, you see?'

    The tone of Lilian's little 'tch' is exceptionally unclear. "Even though it serves me at the moment, I'm not certain I think very highly of how quickly you were all ready to unambiguously betray the Manus." she says.
Regulus ''When did you make a deal like that?''

"I don't know if we made a deal of course we're gonna try." Regulus says.

''We also don't have a disk, remember?''

"''We'' don't have a disk." Regulus points out. "But White might have one." She doesn't seem to realize she just DID give the name of her contact indirectly by virtue of her trying to explain herself and it being much harder to dodge around the question. "And uh..." She looks to Flamel. "Did your stupid plan account for getting outta here? Maybe you've got one too?"

''How quickly you were all ready to unambiguosly betray the Manus.''

"There's a lot of seducing going around." Regulus says, almost glumly even though she's mostly sassing out of unease and uncertainy because seduction should be for fun not schemes. "It's how it is."
Holly Asturias "I'm not apologizing for shooting you, by the by."

    "No? Well, I *had* asked to see you shoot your piece, but perhaps the face was a bit much for a first time? It got all over my dress, you know?" A brief pause, then: "And after I let you handle mine, too..."

"Even though it serves me at the moment,"

    "I could hardly leave someone in need hanging, now could I?" Does she mean Schneider or Marian? "Besides, they remind me a bit too much of certain Revenants. You understand?"
Regulus ''It got all over my dress, you know?''

Regulus gestures towards Holly as if she just provided another example.
Flamel Parsons     "If you pull that stunt from earlier, Parsons, I'll figure out a way to make you join them."
    "I'll tune my regretting-it appropriately!" Flamel's disembodied voice says. "I *really* don't expect it to work again, inasmuch as it even worked at all this time, so don't worry! Sorry, I was trying to keep the tone of the encounter to a low-blasting-- Ow." He bumps a wall invisibly.

    "That was fast." He doesn't actually believe she's defecting.
    "Hey, hold still one second." Flamel says, flicking out of invisibility. Unless Bond stops any stage of this, what happens next is, he sort of grabs the side of Bond's head and flashes about 48 hours worth of memory directly into his cortex, fast-forwarded into five seconds of audiovisual chaos, which is a long-duration first-person recording of Flamel's subjective experiences in determining that Schneider's sister has been kidnapped in order to apply leverage over her, presumably at such a time that she finds out *Schneider's* safety is no longer a valid point of leverage, and in this way fully elucidating a perfectly-precise cynically-selfish motive for near-instant betrayal.

    And then he's done! Like that's just normal. Back to work.

    "Remember... Mister Flamel. If you're in trouble... Let me know."
    "I'll scream loudly! It won't be dignified. I'm a bit blind so it's throwing me off my game." He explains, in a cheery, happy tone. "That'll be on telepath-comms too, so if any of you hear a voice screaming in your head, *I* probably got attacked by monsters, not you."
Odette Raskins Holly, meanwhile, is a wholly unfamiliar voice to Odette, so she's met with the EMT looking like she's ready to pitch a bottle right at something. Odette doesn't know where she is, precisely, but hearing her voice coming out from somewhere around White soon has Odette loosening her hold on the bottle of mysterious fluid.

"... Y-you're a friend, too, then, right?" She asks hesitantly, visibly relaxing as more explanations about the plan to get Marian come forth. "We'll be counting on you, then.  Um. W-we can meet up and get everyone treated once we're out of danger here, yes. And introduce ourselves."

Hearing that there's another person trained to treat people means she can probably be trusted, too, right? Right. She does give Lilian a concerned look at hearing that she and Holly had shot each other, though, but that's another question she's not quite ready to ask about here.

Instead, she pats Regulus firmly on the shoulder and gives her a little squeeze. She's not sure how reassuring that'll be, but it just feels like something to after all this going on. It might also be for her own sake.
Timekeeper "Does that mean the only way to stop it is to ensure history goes the way it... was originally recorded?"

    "I don't know. We've changed it before often enough." In fact, the Foundation's sent her specifically on missions with Elites to change events recorded in history, for some purpose or another. Her tentative, and maybe overly optimistic guess is, "Despair and chaos seem to be the catalyst. Similar to the Storm Syndrome itself, it may be that panic causes it to spiral out of control more rapidly."

"--My light--Can't clean myself. I'm sorry"

    "It's okay." The way Sonetto says that, while kneeled beside Tamiel and wiping away fistfuls of horrible goop with a cloth, sounds more matter-of-fact than reassuring. "Please stay calm."

    Well, she's only got the second-worst bedside manner of the Foundation's representatives. Without question as to whether she should use her arcanum or her mundane tools, she unclasps a small pre-sorted package of basic medicinal tablets made by Laplace, insistently giving them to Tamiel. Included in the mixture are pain relievers, anti-nausea drugs, and a pleasantly focusing dose of stimulants. It is a mixture of 'shut up and let's get going'.

"--My, uh, contact? Mentioned teleporting them to the Foundation but we don't have time to get there on our own."

    "My hope would be that the contact defects as well." Vertin peeks down a corner in the tunnels, then pauses a moment for Lilian to take down the monster lurking beyond it as she always does. "Lilian said she had a long distance teleportation capacity of one, however. She would be the only human among us in that case."

"You're a proper lady too, aren't you? What're you doing here?!"

    Vertin startles, pulling back with a shock to see who Sotheby's addressing. She's about to open her mouth, when--

"Yes, Timekeeper Vertin, please do explain how you seduced the enemy's champion duelist."
"We are coming with you,"

    Lilian's deflection would be such a convenient excuse to use right now. Sonetto's shocked look snaps towards Vertin when Tamamo says that, hand over her mouth, and both her assistant and Moissan are brightly glowing symbols in the Timekeeper's HUD. Maybe if Schneider didn't show up, was confident enough in her safety with the Manus for reasons Vertin wasn't aware of, to not need to follow after, then Vertin would take Lilian's proffered excuse, or maybe even her genuine beliefs.

    But then there's a spray of blood, and a black-masked head rolls to the ground at Schneider's motion. Stunned for a moment, Vertin's response to Tamamo comes with a little red-splatter SFX on the corner of the textbox.

    "I don't believe I could take the credit for it myself."

    Then it's like she's unstuck, and she hurries over to Schneider, pausing for just a moment to check that White's along for this particular ride. "Schneider!" That singular relieved word carries the past six hours of stress with it, her dead certainty that Schneider wouldn't make it through the Storm with the Manus acknowledged properly only in the moment where she can take responsibility for it instead.
Timekeeper "And I do-not think you'd make it on your own."

    And then it's right to business, the best expression of care there is. "Right. Will you vouch for Mr. Parsons and White, then?" For Vertin, they're seamlessly integrated into the cluster of people in her responsibility the moment Schneider confirms that. "Then that's that."

    "Timekeeper?!" For Sonetto, that's not at all acceptable. Her glasfeder's still held at the ready, but she's too thoroughly confused and upset by Tamamo's offhand declaration of some *romantic tryst* to take any decisive action. "What are you thinking?! They are allied with the Manus Vindictae!"

    "It's alright, Sonetto. This has been a possibility for some time. Right now, we're both depending on each other to get through this safely." To try and convince the Elites too, she repeats that, louder. "There's no reason at all they would have to merely pretend to defect at this junction. For the next fifteen hours, we all need to be willing to work together."

"Do we really have the margin to be doing this right now?"

    "We will." Vertin tensely adjusts her hat. Sonetto's still not comfortable, but when it comes down to it, she'll do what Vertin says regardless. "I'm sorry, but I can't accept leaving anyone behind."

    "We can't afford delaying ourselves as a group, however. If White is aware of Marian's location even after the shifting of the labyrinth, then myself and Schneider will go with her to retrieve her more quickly than we could all move together. The rest, follow Agent Moissan and Sonetto to search for the exit-- keep an eye out for the shortcuts Sotheby made, if they still exist."
Veronica     "The rest, follow Agent Moissan and Sonetto to search for the exit."

    "Right," Veronica says to Vertin's plan. "Both groups will need someone to navigate, so..." she looks to Moissan and Sonetto. "I'll stay with you, if Vertin's sure White can be trusted."

    A beat, then a look back at Vertin before parting ways. "When and where should we plan to meet back up? Will Sotheby Manor be safe at this stage?"
White      Admittedly, having Holly speaking in 40% euphemism from inside of her body is giving White reason to consider kicking her out, but White's had worse. While she had initially started toward one of the tunnel-walls to begin shaping a straight line to Marian's location, she pauses partway through pulling the wall apart like a curtain to look back at Vertin when she asserts a more specific plan. Fewer people... Does mean it's simpler to reach Marian, and means there's less risk involved in dragging around a huge group full of injured people.

     White finishes pulling open that hole, and moves to spare the others the effort by reshaping another part of the wall; aimed more squarely in the direction the raid team had originally been escaping toward. Then, she walks back toward James. She isn't quite sure how to premise this, but she steps around him so that she won't startle him from behind, cups her hands together and summons an item from home; a barely-used handgun that's been sat in a drawer in her apartment for god-only-knows how long. "I don't have... More bullets. But these... Shoot electricity." If James checks, it really does only have half a magazine, and given the size (maybe .45?) that's only four shots. "Sorry. About yours."

     If Holly hesitates to detach, White starts shimmying to try and wiggle her out, noting "They'll need... Someone there, to help... With treatment. If someone can't move." Given White can't do much about that, it only stands to reason...
Regulus Regulus gets a shoulder pat. It is not very effective. Unfortunately, while Regulus sees herself as Vertin's subordinate she kind of is starting to see Odette as one of Regulus's subordinates and her reaction to Odette giving her a squeeze is to pat Odette on the hand and say, "Don't worry, love, we've made all sorts of schemes and plans and Vertin's got us through rough storms before." She pauses. "Well, one very big storm, so it counts for a few of them." It seems the effect Odette's attempt at reassurance had is to convince Regulus that Odette needs reassurance of her own.

Despair and Chaos do seem to be the ticket though, of course, Regulus can't just rule out that Manus just kinda digs it from the way she heard Forget Me Not speaking about it but it makes sense to her with her total of two experiences so far.

''Lilian said she had a long distance teleportation capacity of one.''

"I guess beggars can't be choosers." Regulus says, remembering how she had a pretty rough landing the time Lilian teleported her.

''They are allied with the Manus Vindictae!''

Regulus is a little slower to speak up this time but if Vertin's saying it, she'd like to think that Sonetto would understand. Then again, considering their last conversation, that doesn't mean with understanding comes peace of mind.

''Myself and Schneider will go with her to retrieve her more quickly than we could all move together.''

Sensing that Sonetto might be ill at ease with leaving Vertin with two maybe not former Manus VIndictae allies alone with Vertin, Regulus adds to Sonetto, "She's right that we've got to move quickly. With your wound, you'd be better off with us though--" She looks to Vertin. "Maybe take a fourth?" Even though many stages only require three people at this stage, sometimes it's beneficial to have a fourth in the backpocket. "Just in case?"

She looks to Sonetto. "You good? Maybe if we run into any Manus goons along the way we can clear them out so it's easier for Vertin to catch up."
Tamiel Luxis     The decision to split up felt dangerous, and scary--but..."White was never loyal to them," she spoke aloud, looking to the spider-lady. "She was loyal to Schneider...Right?"

    "So. The moment they abandoned Schneider, of course you'd abandon them." Tamiel took a moment to preen a wing that had already been cleaned. "You can't betray someone, when you were never on their side...right?" She looks to White for confirmation.

    "I can't trust the shadows here, anyway." Tamiel anxious-sulked, looking around them in the caves like they'd reach up and grab her any moment. "They...swallowed me right up." A queasy look came over her face, as Sonetto finished the last of the cleaning.

    "Be careful, everyone..." A thought occurred to her, and then, she straightened her back, "I can't do much," Tamiel said to the away team. "But, if you promise to do what you can to get each other back safe...I can offer a little protection." She clasps a hand over her chest. "I don't have to be here to give it."
Holly Asturias "They'll need... Someone there, to help..."

    Holly could not force herself onto someone even if she wanted to; the slightest hint of 'get out' is enough to make her burst out of White in strands of golden blood, and reform, hands on her hips, but looking more concerned than annoyed. A healthy dose of both, all the same.

    "You are asking a doctor to abandon her patient," she says, a bit more cross and serious than usual. A fair bit more, actually.

    "... Schneider. That coin I gave you gives access to my healing Formae. If you promise to use it on Marian, I'll look away from this unreasonable request and do as told."

    A long sigh, regardless.
    Leaving Schneider behind bothers her just as much, at this point. But surely they know better.

    And so rather than pout and make faces, Holly walks up to Riku and gently places her hand on his back. Golden Ichor, from her heart to her hand, from her hand to Riku, in the form of a gentle glow that soothes injuries and restores energy, to allow for more Big Man shenanigans down the road.

"... Y-you're a friend, too, then, right?"

    "Mhm. Director Holly Asturias, but Holly is fine for now. I'm a doctor, so please shout if you need any care!"
Tamamo     'I don't believe I could take the credit for it myself.'

    This answer doesn't seem to satisfy Tamamo, in that she continues showing suspiciously little reaction to something about which she couldn't possibly be lacking feelings. Unfortunately, it's the most she's getting. White's involvement she takes more positively, Holly's with some surprise, and Flamel's with a hint of amusement as she lets him run off without correction. But Schneider...

    It would have been simpler to accept if it really had been that. Bond's affirmation pushes Tamamo's reluctant lean back into balance, but only just.

    'Will Sotheby Manor be safe at this stage?'

    "Likely not, but it is our most viable rendezvous. Sabre Squadron will likely remain there until the last possible moment."

    Tamamo has to rouse herself out of that, decision made, and put on a braver face to do anything to assist Sonetto. That Vertin would keep even her out of this mad dash for another objective is something Tamamo is going to keep to herself. It can't possibly feel good, even were it other company.

    "Our reunion will be swift, at the least. You will return the Timekeeper safely, yes, Ms. White?" With an undertone of 'Sonetto's partner.' "Very good, then. Come, Ms. Sonetto, we must mark the exit."
James Bond I would, but it won't fire for you.

    "If nothing else, that wretched little island did teach me how to make do." The watch is better than nothing, and the knife is better than the watch. The darts are... optimistic, where the monsters are concerned. Trying to get something with the cutting laser would be like trying to get something with a welding torch; it's theoretically possible, but hardly designed for the task.

    A knife is a simple thing, and over the decades there can be only so much refinement of the concept--but compared to his outfit, the combat knife is as sleek and modern as the Walther he forfeited.

    In the moment of Flamel's projection, he is stunned, unable to process the flood of information. Training takes over, and after having stood still, but before he realizes, Bond has the edge of the knife against him. His eyes were locked on Flamel's, yet only in the instant following the press of cold metal against him does there seem to be any lucidity in Bond's.

    He collects himself and lowers the knife. "I'm sure you think that was adequate warning. It wasn't. ...thank you for explaining."

    Sorry. About yours.

    "It's not as if any of you could use it. And it's better than this anyway." The knife is sheathed.

They are allied with the Manus Vindictae!

    "The Storm and these monsters will kill them the same as us."

<J-IC-Scene> Tamamo says, "That Timekeeper Vertin would travel separately with only Ms. White and Ms. Greco, considering how many of us must rely upon that suitcase in this moment."
<J-IC-Scene> James Bond says, "It won't be a concern."
<J-IC-Scene> Tamamo says, "... You are certain, Mr. Bond?"
<J-IC-Scene> James Bond says, "I'm positive."

    Bond waits until White, Schneider and Vertin are underway, before he quietly takes Tamamo aside. "Take a look at the time," he says--but his watch, shown to her, doesn't display it. Rather, it shows a blip overlaid atop a grid. At the rate it's moving, she can easily infer that blip is Schneider. "We've got plenty to make it out of here and reconvene," he says, twisting the stop to return the watch's screen to its convincing analog facade.

    "Let's get going, Sonetto," he says, testing the weight of White's apology in his hands and then testing the sights.
Schneider Greco      "Nobody's ever gotten more normal," mutters one of the goons to White, but not-unfriendlylike. "It's a myth. Most everybody's born normal and then the crazies get to us. 'S how it is. I mean, look at me, now."


     With a nod to Regulus, and a look to Lilian: "You take me or I fight you, and you can-not afford..."

     Schneider is perhaps about to say something witty or funny or deflective in her own defense, but Vertin rushing towards her makes part of her composure crumble. 'Oh, we're not pretending not to want this anymore', and--

     She wraps her coat halfway around Vertin in a hug, roomy as it is on her tiny frame, and takes an unsteadily-shuddering breath with eyes squeezed tight. Her heart, for once, is pounding against Vertin's chest.

     Maybe a second breath, too. She can be greedy. But no more than two.

     Her men, maybe respectful and maybe embarrassed, look off to the side in opposite directions.

     "My dear, stupid lord. Why do you do such things," she murmurs, lovingly, and fretfully. "Well, we are all here now, and..." She detaches, but not far; and settles herself into her smoky ease, but not perfectly.

     Tamiel, Bond, and Lilian (and Tamamo less sharply) have reasonable misgivings, but...
     "I did-not betray the Manus. I learned they mean to betray me. Never-mind the details, but I must find shelter where I find it, right?" With a little twist of humor, about seducings: "If my bur-dens were light enough to switch sides for love, it would be a beau-ti-ful world. May-be say I seduced my dear lord for insurance? Mmmh, but that would make me a liar, too..."

     Such practical things weren't really on her mind.

     "... And don't call her a cow."


"So the Manus never really meant to keep us safe, huh..."
"I know, Achille. Go with them, you both; I will come with Marian."
"Is-- is it safe out there?"
"It is your best chance."
"Shit. Alright."
With a nod to White, getting the same idea: "And give the old soldier your handgun, Loreto."

     He throws Bond a pistol, grumbling- remarkably, it's a Walther, but an old single-action.
Ein Sotheby really wants to help, and has noticed how beaten up people have become as they move down into the labyrinth, but the moment of a quick triage buys all sorts of time for things to catch up despite Vertin and Moissan's efforts to be sneaky and efficient with things. Without time to mix something, she frets at her bag and hopes at Riku as he's helped past. Not waiting, pulled into motion again by Ms. Moissan as their triage ends and they must continue, the group continues to move and coordinate.

From every angle, the Manus forces gather towards them, and above them, pooling with Arcana and then spilling back down blind and changed and seeking for a new mistress' purpose. Echolocation and microdivination provide slightly different information to slightly different sense. It's most clear 'behind', the clearest direction of sound, begins to fill with the stumble of fresh converts or maskless visitors seeking redemption in blood, inked in eyes or in passing contact with the curse's overflowing bounty and sent in chase.

'Ahead' twists before it straightens, Sotheby's elixir having giving a torsion to the stone and the area realigning about it. Packs of aggressive Manus members patrol towards the group's flight deeper, with Team Timekeeper (with Benefits) guided through a path of least resistance with their fighters at the vanguard points shoving away and delay or swiftly defeating the leading edge of gripping hands and reaching limbs from the black.

In pulses of sound, the vague shape of their original path can be found as shortcut now, but there are bodies now that get in the way, absorb sound, and as she calls, she calls into the black void and is received warmly as her sound goes nowhere but deeper, as gloopy dead-zones are sound baffled just by having sprung leaks and show their danger in negative space. All around, there is a kind of fingered crunch, like something works through the stone - ice, or a burrowing creature of some kind, or the earth itself crumbling and turning in protest of their passage. There's almost enough sound to move on... But also, it's so loud the fine details drown when they aren't sumberged in black.

In pulses of prediction, however, it's painted in a kind of jagged danger, a suffocating press of slow choking from every angle that comes timed to the minutehand rather than the second hand. The pulse of where the danger comes from can be followed, but like sound, it is loud enough to be overwhelming. There'll be Triangulists down one hallway, carrying their instruments, and through a breach of curtains a huge drumheaded ogre of an armored being with a massive mallet threatens everyone right after. Each passage has a right answer, relative to path and timing, and as they make the little callouts and stretch around their running fight, the threat just gets louder and louder. . .

Riku, helped up, gets a danger sense of his own, when around one dark hallway where the lights had seemed to be broken, a blunt lance of brown oakroot spearing for his shoulder and instead missing and crashing in the ceiling just wide of his back and splitting the very hallway. A second chases him more closely, forcing an evade or reaction out of the young Ultraman, and a third goes as far as to curl around as it seeks shoulder, arm, ankle, or available extremity. From another angle, Tamiel hears a sound like stone breaking, and a hydra-mass of thinner rootwisps bloom out and anemone at legs as a jumpscare tripping hazard that might cause a critical delay or pause in the escape segment!

While the Manus minions all broadly attack the members of the group that aren't Concord Partners, the roots are both more aggressive and less restrictive in their targeting.
Ein Another partial hallway block-off happens almost to isolate Flamel personally, his psionic sight causing the roots to appear like solid walls of language, a mass of Chicago history wrapped in a shouted, demanding conversation among the sucking inquest of root-need.

who ? what ? queries the seizing pylons of silent communication that crash through stone, compelled to seize and question, and the labyrinth becomes further complicated even as they get back on-route in their flight with paths cut-off by encounters that'd take too long or aggressive obstruction.

It surely didn't take this long to get through last time, right? But you've had to take more turns this time than before, obey new rules, were stopped by roots making new walls, and,

As the group tries to creep their scope from 'escape, alive and together', to adding extra souls to the bargain, silence creeps down a hallway broken by the sound of heels on stone.

Walking unhurriedly among the creep of vinelike roots besides, a black-dressed woman with silver drapes and vaguely feline mask of charred wood advances, on intercept with the group, visible as she takes the most direct route through the hallway around all obstacles from the 'wrong' side of the house towards the 'right'.

A wall walking towards you as you face freedom. The daring (desperate?) divert.
Tamamo     ...enough to make her burst out of White in strands of golden blood.

    "Oh! I had not known you -- well." Let's think about that later.

    'Take a look at the time.'

    Tamamo does, leaning over, and understanding as soon as her eyes land on it. Ah. "As you say." She relaxes, just a little, but visibly so. "Such forethought is ever appreciated."
Riku Asakura Shii~iing, splat.
'We are coming with you,'

Riku turns to face Schneider, who just... helps them?  He's very confused now, especially with more of the Concord coming to help them escape.  

'We're going loud about getting Marian out?'

"Who's Marian?" he asks, before someone fills in that it's Schneider's sister.  This causes Riku to become MORE confused, because it sounds like the Manus was holding her sister.  

White gives Riku a look, and he returns it.  "Next time, pull your punches a little better.." he says, perhaps half joking.  He was a bit hurt from all of the transforming he had to do and the shots to the legs.  Vertin splits the groups up, with some heading to free Marian, and the others looking for the way out.  Riku is on way out team.

Odette offers him her shoulder to lean on, and Riku takes the offered shoulder, a bit uncomfortable being this close to someone.  Though it helps him manuever the maze of the underground area better.

A spear of roots dives for him, as he manages to narrowly get his head out of the way.  He pushes Odette out of the way, hoping she'll be spared from the Manus tendrils.  Another one flies at him, and he predictably rolls forward to avoid the attack.  Only for a third to wrap around his shoulder and arm.  

He jerks, trying to pull out, and the manus monster will find that he's quite a bit stronger than a normal human, even though he's not an Ultraman suddenly.  He pulls with all of his might forward, aiming to drag the creature across the ground.  

"Ugh, I need some help over here!" he calls out, entrapped.  
Lilian Rook     'No? Well, I *had* asked to see you shoot your piece, but perhaps the face was a bit much for a first time? It got all over my dress, you know?'

    Lilian's eyes go a little wide, then she inches towards a little scrunch, then exhales all at once, shaking her head fifteen degrees. "Luxuria indeed." she mutters. Somehow, it makes her lower her sword halfway. "If you keep this up, I'm going to file a harassment suit."

    'Besides, they remind me a bit too much of certain Revenants. You understand?'

    "I don't." Lilian says, unusually brusque about it. "I take my loyalties and my promises very seriously."

    'I guess beggars can't be choosers.'

    "In that anyone should have to beg for me to choose them, certainly."

    'Despair and chaos seem to be the catalyst. Similar to the Storm Syndrome itself, it may be that panic causes it to spiral out of control more rapidly.'

    "If human panic and hysteria are the catalyst to the Storm, then no wonder it keeps happening." Lilian scoffs. "I'd pray that it isn't, or else we're well and truly fucked."

    'Lilian said she had a long distance teleportation capacity of one, however. She would be the only human among us in that case.'

    Lilian stares blankly for three whole seconds before comprehension hits her. She only just remembered that Schneider's family is human.

    'I don't believe I could take the credit for it myself.'
    'Schneider!'

    Those two claims back to back, with that shift in tone, makes Lilian frown at Vertin, like she knows something that isn't obvious to anyone else who Knows something, and isn't terribly pleased.

    'What are you thinking?! They are allied with the Manus Vindictae!'

    Lilian sounds exactly as unhappy and one quarter as opposed as Sonetto. "I can say on White's part, at least, that she all but declared her intentions to myself and my wife in front of her superior officer." Meaning Ariel. "But I'll expect none of them to take offense when I say that I'd rather they stay under Foundation secure surveillance until a complete debriefing is completed." Swinging her sword up to rest over her bare shoulder, Lilian says "Besides. Two of them know better than to try double-crossing right in front of me." She should stop Posting.

    'I'm sorry, but I can't accept leaving anyone behind.'

    Lilian shuts her eyes and utters an even more exasperated sigh than before. "To the blood of thy line." she says, half-growling about it.

    'If White is aware of Marian's location even after the shifting of the labyrinth, then myself and Schneider will go with her to retrieve her more quickly than we could all move together.'

    "Oh no you aren't." Lilian suddenly snaps. Rather than conveying anything, her stare is like it could pin Vertin's lapels to the wall. "Wasn't I clear enough about your importance as the sole critical personnel in this entire operation? I'm not leaving you alone with two people who were allies of Manus Vindictae all of five seconds ago. And don't try to reassure me about them shooting you in the back; you know perfectly well what I mean."

    Unfortunately, Lilian has to do the mental math, which leaves her as the only person who can actually act as Vertin insurance to get her out, should anything happen to White, including a mistake, trap, or momentary confusion. It also means she can't take Tamamo with her, because getting both of them out, at minimum, likely including Schneider, just isn't feasible. Lilian looks momentarily nauseous at the idea, but stiffens her jaw.
Lilian Rook     "I'm the only other person who can pull off an extraction as a redundancy to White. You can't stop me from going with you anyways. Tamamo . . ." Lilian turns around, takes three quick steps, and throws her arms around her wife almost too tightly for comfort, lifting her up off the floor by an inch before putting her down. She looks a little steadier after. "Stick with everyone else, okay? Sonetto will keep you safe if nothing else, but get Asakura back on his feet so he can help, please. It'd ease my mind." Her hands drift down to Tamamo's squeeze twice, and slide off. "I'll meet you there."

    'I learned they mean to betray me.'

    "For what possible purpose?" Lilian sighs, returning to Vertin. She sounds half-irritated, half curious. "Have you gone and done something more serious than flirting with the Foundation's Timekeeper now?"

    '... And don't call her a cow.'

    "Succubus then."
Odette Raskins "Don't worry, love, we've made all sorts of schemes and plans and Vertin's got us through rough storms before."

"Right! Y-yeah, that first one really was something alright." Odette chuckles nervously at Regulus' counter-reassurance, exhaling heavily again to try and get some more of that built up tension out of her shoulders. Despite her best efforts, Odetet's still definitely in need of some reassurance herself, especially considering how stressful this day has been and might very well continue to get. Having that pressure release helps quite a bit! "This'll just be another one of... Uh. Of however many more there'll be."

"Will you vouch for Mr. Parsons and White, then?"
"They are allied with the Manus Vindictae!"
"I'll stay with you, if Vertin's sure White can be trusted."

"Miss Sonetto? Miss Veronica? I've worked with both of them before. I-I know this whole situation is messed up and confusing, but I w.. I trust them. I've trusted them before, and they didn't steer me wrong back then." Odette answers Vertin's request and tries to address Sonetto's concerns. It's also an attempt to steady her own thoughts, but she can keep that as an inside thought.

That just leaves the matter of going along with the exit-finding team, and that gets a quick nod out of her. "Right, then. Take care of them for me, Miss White. And..." She gives White another vote of confidence along with an almost pleading smile, and then she turns to Schneider with a more conflicted look.

The conflict mostly comes from being scared of her, but since she's now allied with them, it's probably okay. Reminding herself of that helps calm Odette down some, but the lingering anxiety is still pretty obvious on her face. "Don't worry, Miss... Greco? We'll watch out for your friends, too. Come on, don't fall behind."

"Director Holly Asturias, but Holly is fine for now."

Odette hasn't seen people coming out of other people that many times yet, so it takes a little while for her to recover after seeing Holly gold-blood-explode out of White. Once she does recover, however, she fidgets with the strap to her carrying case in her free hand before finally getting her head together enough to reply properly.

"Director? Doctor?" That helps quite a bit to get her at (relative) ease. "Will do! Uh. My name's Odette. Er. Odette Raskins, EMT. L-likewise, Doctor Asturias!"

vs. MANUS FORCES

Like before, Odette's role in the fighting is largely by running interference when she isn't doing emergency triage or slapping painkiller patches on her allies. She's calling out new arrivals, too, taking full advantage of how little direct combat she's throwing herself into to help the exit-finding team focus fire on anything that shows up. The goop is called out whenever she sees it, too, and she's starting to really feel a place for helping the team!

The hallway blockages prove to be quite the obstacle, however, and Odette yelps lightly when Riku pushes her off him to get her to safety. Stumbling back into a clumsy roll, Odette scurries about a bit to avoid getting caught up by the roots herself (not realizing they're not aiming directly at her) before jumping back onto her feet. Seeing the not-yet-Ultraman'd Ultraman getting caught up himself, the EMT brings out her trusty bonesaw and starts hacking away at the roots holding his arms.

"O-on it! If we can get just one of these free, maybe you can...! No, is it too cramped to transform in here?!" She asks, grabbing one of those roots to try keeping it still while working at it with that bonesaw. She can only spare a moment to glance at the figure with the wood mask, briefly going wide-eyed before hastening her sawing movements. "W-we have another one incoming, two o' clock!"
Flamel Parsons     Flamel was blind and unable to see the Bond's knife. Which *surely* is why it didn't phase him. Was there any other reason? Maybe. No, it was definitely the eyes situation

    ---

    He shreds his way through the Manus minds still capable of thinking, and leaves the violence to the others, invisibly surging forward... And his blindsight struggles, all of a sudden, with the thinking, no the *remembering* roots. It doesn't make sense to him, until suddenly they're around him! It would seem the forest knows what's walking in it, more than the one walking does. And that's why he doesn't walk now, instead flailing as the labyrinth closes behind him...

    Flamel is a rock, a set of stones that were coded to move. In that sense, roots are a familiar thing. And Flamel, he can find a way to be familiar to roots. When it becomes clear that he can't move, he starts trying to feed them bursts of ultra-simplified psychic knowledge: <im several rocks and pieces that were found in rocks before and im several histories (tree rings) and im trying to help my friend and i wont get in the way of your nutrients and i wont make it hard to keep a grip in a storm and you know there's a storm and you know that shapes like mine that talk instead of shriek are friends to trees> He blasts out of his telepathy as quick as he can. <please dont split me or tangle me and please let me help your friend that is the same shape as me who speaks sometimes>

    Flamel isn't actually a herbaphonist, but when the plants are actively trying to extract knowledge, he can get something across. The Manus don't know he acted against them yet, right...? He has to get through that wall! He has to get to...

    His face goes a little pale. Druvis III. Who's in that hallway, with the clearly-not-Manus. Can he blast her with some telepathy to head her off a bit? How'd she even find them?! God, he hopes she's not going to beat them up, this is bad. "Crap, crap crap crap, how do I..." He wriggles, and if he can get free by appeasing the roots, he'll try to find a way to circle around! If he can't, he'll have to find some way to telekinetically tear himself away! One way or another he needs to get a mad scramble to... Jjjjjjoin Druvis? If she's not too skeptical of them, she might not think they've turned, or think they've all turned, if he can just pretend to be her ally, joining her from the rear to reinforce... <Druvis! Hey, did you find that photokinetic one? I *really* need to give her a piece of my mind!> If there's any way to get to her, he'll do his best to get close and appear allied. Otherwise, he has to just stick to telekinetic allied-seeming to hope the dangerous labyrinth's roots are nicer to him and let him navigate.

    A high-power herbaphonist under her own forest. This is one of the *worst* threats he has to deal with. And Vertin, the great friendmaker, has broken off... Oh no, oh *no*. He's *got* to set up a sneak attack or there's a *bad* risk.
White      Holly's disgruntlement can't make White flinch, but it does seem to register enough to warrant a small nod. She can't really justify this in a way that would appease Holly, but she already knows the Timekeeper has to regroup with the others after they find Marian. She has a strong feeling that Vertin coming along at all is just for sentimental reasons, and it troubles her, too. But... It's giving Schneider something she needs, right now.

     Tamamo's question gives White a moment of pause, as she tries to figure out whether there's a concern that she'll do something to Vertin herself. "... I want... Both of them to win." is the best way she can think to settle such a concern, looking briefly across at Schneider and Vertin's embrace while handing over the weapon to Bond. Tamiel's offer is met with an almost immediate gesture to Vertin and Schneider over herself. "Focus... On them. Just in case."

     'Just in case', it turns out, is emphatic. In the interest of several purposes, from time spent in transit to the relative safety of the other two and even the opportunity for Vertin and Schneider to rest, White steps aside and... Transforms. There's a crackle of light in several colors that don't quite match her usual pink-purple hues as her legs are replaced with the tremendous body of a monstrous spider, White's own upper body nearly dwarfed by it. The carapace is white, but with a sleek silvery sheen and small pink markings between sparse rigid sharpened points that are only not 'spikes' for the most part because they are too stubby. Like the most obvious thing in the world, she turns to Schneider and Vertin, and pats her own newgrown abdomenal plane with her palm to invite them up. "... I'll try... To avoid the enemies." More slowly, she reminds Schneider, "I did... Offer a piggyback. Earlier." Lilian's sheer insistence on coming along reaches White a bit strangely, leaving her almost feeling *worried*, but... She pats her back again. There's room for three, technically? Lilian might find the offer ridiculous though, and White pointedly seems to ignore the concept of staying under surveilance later.

     Once they're astride, or once they've made up their minds not to ride at all, White bursts away down the forced-open tunnel in Marian's direction with them. Riding, it's smooth and quiet, though White does tip her passengers to either side now and then while turning against the walls. If walking behind her, she seems to be mindfully trying to shield the both of them with her larger body. If Druvis's efforts affect all parts of the tunnel-system at once rather than just the main group, she's at least well suited in this form to avoid having a foot caught, or even needing much footing at all... She's sort of a naturally arisen all-terrain woman, you see.
Tamamo     Tamamo is already tensing as Lilian speaks, getting to the obvious point that it would be safer, and tactically advantageous, for her to go with with Vertin, but without taking anyone else along. Lilian can see it on her face, clearly enough that even someone without such intimate familiarity might, as well. The look of someone who's forced to agree, but their heart can't be in it.

    "Lilian..." Lifted, her own arms come around for a squeeze that lingers as long as it's allowed, tighter with a subtle desperation come on suddenly. Less than comfortable, even, from a woman of gently soft appearance.

    "You will run right back to me, will you not? We will find a way." Somehow, against the world. It's an absurd thing, what she really means by that.

    "You carry my blessings with you."

    '...but get Asakura back on his feet so he can help, please. It'd ease my mind.'

    "With ease."
Veronica     Winding through passageway and corridor, Veronica contents herself with the role of mental-mapmaker and sometimes walking cover, protecting the literally softer assets like Odette, an untransformed Riku, and the locals from direct Manus assault. This becomes more difficult when said assault is in the form of roots bursting from the walls, floor, all around now--

    "Ugh, I need some help over here!"

    Veronica drops her dolphin act immediately and turns, her EGO grinding and shifting to gain an inch or three in subconscious reaction to ongoing danger. Grabbing the questing roots in their span between origin point and victim, she crushes them in concrete fist. Leaving the matter of actually untying Riku to someone else, she moves on to silent-begrudgingly assist Flamel by dealing with the wall between the full-time psychic (as opposed to Veronica, who's more of a gig worker) and the rest of the group.

    What starts as a one-two-three pounding against the vines encircling Agent Parsons becomes brick-like fingers reaching through to spread a gap, a defiant 'Us. Together.' presented as answer to the roots' 'who' and 'what' in Flamel's mind's-eye. She'll need some help to finish the job, however - those same roots snake around her own form, now, sinking tendrils into cracked mortar and broken concrete. For a moment it seems like Veronica's EGO might be wedged open like so many broken sidewalks before it, and she's forced to directing her attention toward filling those gaps with fresh brick and stone.

    As Veronica stagger-turns around to see the master of these woods, Baker and Seventh ripples with growth of its own, a thousand (metaphorical) hands working to stem the tide of, well, stems. "You're with *them*," she declares through greenery-clad speakers, but it's mostly bluster while she focuses on regenerating.
Lilian Rook     'Lilian... You will run right back to me, will you not? We will find a way.'

    "Just as I've always done, and just as I'll keep doing forever." Lilian says. She's grateful that Tamamo understands. She's sad that Tamamo doesn't fight her on it. She wishes it were possible for both things to be true. "I meant what I said. If it comes down to it, I'll choose you and only you." Her throat hurts when she steps back.

    'If nothing else, that wretched little island did teach me how to make do.'

    "That wretched little island is our sanctuary for now." Lilian says, dry-mouthed, intentionally wry, in the moments before departure. "So I suppose it's teaching us all to make do." Anything to take the sting out of moving one inch further from Tamamo.

    And in those same last moments, Lilian spares a glance for Cosimo over Schneider's shoulder, narrows her eyes, visibly trying to make out his features, then glances at the sword she had to sheath to hold Tamamo, as if second-guessing the decision. She smiles at him. "You're the one who was talking about spitting, weren't you?"
Tamiel Luxis     Even if she had been in top form--and she very decidedly was NOT--without her shadows, Tamiel was doing everything with one hand behind her back. She could have slipped by the roots easily enough, Tamiel was sure! As a shadow, she--

    She grabbed hold of her throat, shivering at the memory, a wound too fresh to touch. "So...She can control plants...?" Flamel's telepathic input doesn't ease her at all--it doesn't even help. Dire, is what this was. Very, very dire. Her costume reformed around her out of her shadow--but it was quavery. She tried to reshape the fishnet warms into blades, but they came out wispy and unreal.

    Being trapped in arcana had taken a great deal out of her. Escaping? Even more.

    At loss for what else to do, Tamiel turned her attention to the incoming masked one, tuning her senses, listening for the woman's wants--her prayers, hoping it could them some leverage.
Timekeeper "I'm not certain I think very highly of how quickly you were all ready to unambiguously betray the Manus."

    "We'll talk about it later," Vertin says, reflexively. It sounds sincere, just like every other time she's said 'not right now' in this labyrinth. It means, instead, that she's warding off the attention of Moissan and Sonetto from that particular statement, and deflecting Lilian from elaborating as an offhand motion.

"My dear, stupid lord. Why do you do such things,"

    Vertin stays still for the duration of those two long, slow breaths, arms wrapped under Schneider's coat. This kind of full body contact with Schneider has only happened in secret, when stealing time away from both of their overseers-- 'pretending' has never really entered her mind about it, only the grey listless haze of solving each problem as she's enmired in them, and hiding in the shadows between searchlights as a matter of course. Hugging Schneider for just a moment, like this, is an aching knot of a problem unraveling, followed by a dizzying rush of relief.

    When not stealing time away from the Foundation, the Storm instead steals time away from her. But seconds, at least, can slip away. "I'd never choose otherwise."

    "Timekeeper."

    Sternly disapproving, either of the dawdling or the hugging, Sonetto's voice cuts through the quiet back and forth. Vertin pulls away and readjusts her hat, tugging the lapel of her jacket back into place.

"She was loyal to Schneider...Right?"

    "Right. It had been suggested from the start, but not so convincingly that I could act upon it." A short pause, where 'sorry' might go, if she actually wanted to apologize. "Emergency measures justify quick decisionmaking."

    Sonetto's still soggily unhappy with this rationale, and that's something Vertin *does* want to apologize for. She closes her eyes, effortfully drowning out the ticking clock in her mind that clips all of her sentences down to their barest and most efficient components.

    "It's within expectations that Manus Vindictae would fail to uphold their end of the bargain when assisted by an arcanist who doesn't meet their ideology's extremist standards. I attempted before to find some legal recourse within the Foundation's purview to secure space for Schneider's family when the Storm came to avert this conflict in the first place, and failed. Now that the Storm has come, I'm invoking the Storm Emergency Field Authority protocols to assume the authority necessary to see mission relevant personnel through the Storm. Securing Schneider's help carries the Concord's along with it, and it's dependent on the retrieval of her sister."

    "... Okay. Thank you, Timekeeper. ... Another time, I would like if..." Whatever that sentence is, Sonetto doesn't finish it, but just trails off with an uncertain expression. The active threat of her glasfeder fades away as it slowly sinks back to her side.

    That's better, at least. Sonetto's unhappiness isn't just out of disapproval, but worry as well, and that's a harder problem for Vertin to solve. Lilian at least can soothe it, though.
Timekeeper "And don't try to reassure me about them shooting you in the back; you know perfectly well what I mean."

    "Yes. You're right." Vertin agrees so readily that it sounds like she had the response prepared before Lilian even glared at her. There was no use telling Lilian what to do, but she was perfectly aware that Lilian would be the single most useful Elite to have along in a small and fast-moving party like this one. "The four of us, then."

"When and where should we plan to meet back up?"

    Vertin raises her voice for this one, before the parties split off. "I'd like to minimize our time apart as much as possible. If we're quick, between White's direction and Lilian's assistance, we won't be far behind by the time you reach the exit. We'll be back together before the hour's up."

"Timekeeper, *please* be careful."
"I will. I promise."

    As a goodbye, she raises up her hand while turning away. "We'll all make it through this."

"I did... Offer a piggyback. Earlier."

    Vertin lifts up her chin in a faint expression of shock when White transforms, but after only a second of confusion, she's accepting the piggyback ride too. "What? A transformation? ... Alright then, let's go."
Schneider Greco      "That coin I gave you gives access to my healing Formae. If you promise to use it on Marian..."
     Schneider's cheek twitches, irritated but understanding. "Do-not call it 'unreasonable'," she says first, and then "Do you think I would leave my sister to suffer?"

     "... But thank you. I will use it well." She turns the coin over in her palm with a thumb, uneasily. "Be well, my-la-dy Holly. I will-not keep you from Lilian long."

     With a little glance aside to Tamiel, rueful-smiling: "Bless my men, if you like. Me, I am weighed-down with gifts."

     "Have you gone and done something more serious than flirting with the Foundation's Timekeeper now?"
     There's no rational reason for Schneider to keep the nature of her betrayal secret. Hiding it can only make her look insincere. And surely anything the Manus hates her for is something the Foundation would love. And yet:

     "... Something they can-not forgive, which might never have come to light." Schneider's eyes are drawn aside, evasively. In the shape of her irrationality, Lilian might recognize something. "My sister, she knows it. And so they..."

     Kidnapped her to find it out. That's the shape of things.

     Schneider smiles, comforted, as she hops up on White's back (butt?) side-saddle and pat-pats the chitin. "You do keep your promises, my-la-dy. Loreto, Achille... take care of the others," she says, to two entirely ordinary gunmen, about a whole group of Elites.

     "You're the one who was talking about spitting, weren't you?"
     One of the two coughs sharply, eyes widening just before Lilian departs. "That was you?!" he barks. His eyes dart between her and Tamamo, disbelieving. On half-remembered context clues: "She's your husband?!"
"I think you'd say wife."
"Wi-- whatever!"

     En route, the two gunmen fire in short bursts with their submachine guns- kind of startling they were allowed those in the Walden, really- at the Manus creatures while doing their best to just clumsily avoid the vines. Schneider, with the other group, is sparing with her bullets and leaves the Manus minions to her allies, but turns her pistols into swirling feather-blades that prune back the vines.

     "Merda, Druvis, why now..." she mutters bitterly, at the glimpse she gets en route.
Regulus Regulus isn't exactly thrilled to be letting Vertin go off on her own but what choice does she have? THe orders come from Vertin herself and it's not like it doesn't make any sense. Of course, it'd make MORE sense if Vertin and Sonetto both went with her and it was mostly her Concord friends who went with Schneider but, well, actually it's maybe a bit understandable that the Concord might just leave Marian behind if it means saving Schneider. And just the fact they're a little more willing to do that, well, it doesn't surprise Regulus that Vertin might want to make sure she's close to the action there.

But it's good to clear a path. Of course, Regulus isn't all that helpful in fighting off random manus encounters, she can hit them with colorful bolts and she doesn't seem to consider gooey black monsters as something she needs to be worried about hurting too much, but she's a lover not a fighter and she seems content on lettintg the significantly tougher Elites handle the bulk of that.

''Druvis! Hey, did you find that photokinetic one?''
''Miss Druvis Weyerhauser the Third. She can 'hear' plantlife.''

Regulus has a bit of herb in her bag wrapped up and she's a little worried but she tries to recall one brief conversation with White she had about this person. Arcane implements. Burned forest. Druid. If humans burned down a forest of hers, Manus Vindictae would be real tempting though she's not exactly sure that's what happened either.

"World peace..." She murmurs as she tries to run towards Druvis, leaving herself pretty open to getting got. "Druvis! You're Druvis right? Can we uh--Can I convince you to look the other way? We're just trying to get outta here." White did say she didn't seem to be as into Manus as the rest. "They're, uh,they're being real messed up so..."

"Captain...!" APPLe complains.

"Um, we can talk shop a little too. Give peace a chance?"
Tamamo     'She's your husband?!'

    "My English was once just as poor, but constant practice has markedly improved it. Keep up your efforts, and you may see the same." Tamamo answers quickly enough that it could be imagined sincere.

    They part. Forced into battle, Tamamo does as would make her happiest, and others least saddened -- she watches to be sure of where everyone is, and that none are left behind. The young Sotheby, who she calls with the tone of 'ojou,' included among those not assumed to have either the sense for battle nor the insensitivity to violence, here where malevolence may very well drip from the walls into solid shapes.

    Riku, as promised, receives a different sort of talisman from her others, something entirely covered with tight lines that curve without meeting. It glows at a touch, and fills the bearer with immediate warmth and confidence, fatigue slipping away like it was a dream. It's also filled with mystic Solar energy of a sort human bodies don't usually have a way to consciously sense.

    Instrumentalists she can dispatch as well as any other, bursts of ice shocking and shattering where her curses strike. Roots she deals with similarly, not taking fire to living wood, but freezing hard and solid everything that would keep it living, let alone mobile. No 'mere' ice, it carries a soul-draining effect besides, discouraging graspers with spiritual depression.
Lilian Rook     White's transformation is wild even knowing the context behind it. Expecting Lilian to hop on is patently ridiculous. She does anyways, because White continuing to move while she divines a way is moderately more efficient, and she would like to save all the time that she can.

    Once Lilian is up there with the others, she silently wonders if Sonetto is the only other person in this building roughly as unhappy with Vertin as she is.

    'She's your husband?!'

    "Huh?!" That train of thought derails, crashes, and burns. "Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now?!" Lilian scoffs. "When did I ever say I had a husband?!" Tearing her gaze away, she shakes her head, and mutters loudly, "An bómán amach is amach thú?"

    'Be well, my-la-dy Holly. I will-not keep you from Lilian long.'

    Lilian blinks gormlessly at Schneider. "What? Why?"

    'It's within expectations that Manus Vindictae would fail to uphold their end of the bargain when assisted by an arcanist who doesn't meet their ideology's extremist standards.'

    For once, or perhaps the first time, Lilian actually struggles to believe Vertin. "Isn't that a reach even for that pack of daft bastards? What's the use of having a loyal hatchetwoman by the short ones, full well knowing she can't afford to do anything but listen to you, and then after she's done exactly that for months, disposing of her for being a halfblood?" she says, clearly incredulous.

    '... Something they can-not forgive, which might never have come to light.'

    Lilian believes Vertin slightly before. Her eyes narrow, an ounce of resentment weighed against two tons of anxious hesitation. "If that's true, then I sincerely wish you hadn't given such a benefit of a doubt to the people who want you dead." she says, and looks away.

    . . . . . . . .

    She doesn't even question her situation past that point. White's scurrying through the halls as a giant spider is patently absurd, but Lilian has better things to worry about. Every several turns, Lilian holds up her hand, even though White and Schneider weren't informed, and repeats a series of words under her breath like a mantra, fluttering open her eyes seconds later and then tapping White to indicate each twist and turn as they go.

    She calls out each pack of enemies two turns in advance, attempting to give Schneider and White time to be ready for immediate suppression; once they get close, Lilian sights on them as if she could see through the walls, and discharges her absurdly magical sidearm through a half-foot of brick and mortar to put burning holes through the mobs they have no choice but to go through. Once the unnatural intrusion of roots begins to close in around them, Lilian breathes shallower with each moment of eerie reverie, pointing White more and more urgently, and discarding one quarter of the ammunition remaining in her gun just to reload faster. She doesn't have to say so to radiate the harrowing prickles of sensing a closing door.

    There isn't time to get off and hack through the roots like normal. Lilian decides she can't risk delays compared to Vertin's suspension of disbelief before the first barricade, and whispers her manta-soothing "Liomsa uile na fuílleach Ama." at the same time she draws her sword.

    Her weight briefly leaves and settles back on White; perhaps a fifth of a second. The minimum number of roots that are necessary scatter apart down traceable crisscross lines. Lilian ensures that she lets Schneider do as much of her work as possible, but given the constantly increasing number, the rate of growth and regrowth, and how little she's pacing herself, the roots smoulder at the tips and her blade glows with dull heat at the edge just before reaching their destination.
Schneider Greco      White's left-behind spider makes navigating towards Marian's chamber-- still difficult, insofar as the labyrinth rearranges itself to vex the paths even towards a known point, but doable at all.

     Of course, the spider's knocking is coming from a solid stonework wall.

     If nobody else acts in that first breathless half-second, Schneider manifests her Angela-gifted umbrella and strikes the masonry with it to bring it down.

     Past that hole, in a formerly lightless cell, a girl lies crumpled on the ground. Her black jacket, ankle-length black skirt, and white shirt make her out like a more pious Schneider; the same dark hair but grown longer, the same pale skin but paler for confinement.

     She is breathing. There's still emerald-colored slime in a pool by her lips.

     "Marian! Marian!!!" Schneider hastens to her side, crouching down, shaking her, and hissing. It takes her a moment to fumble for Holly's medal; a moment longer to draw out its healing magic. That makes the girl stir, reaching up.

"I-- won't pretend... I'm s-ssorryyy... I won't pretend to be an..."
"Shhh. No more. You know me, right? Schneider..."
"Schneider... ohh, virgin Mary, who are these?!"
"Friends. Please, Marian."
"Ohhh, g-- get them away from me!"
"Please!!"
"Nnnh..."

     Schneider looks back over her shoulder, pleadingly, at-- mostly White. The girl's bruises around her wrists and ankles are fading, and her shallow cuts are mending, but her confusion is slower to heal. "My-la-dy White. This is no place for her. Please, take her. My dear lord must stay, and so..."

     Vertin and Schneider are safe together. Or, rather, they're certainly unsafe apart.
Timekeeper "You will run right back to me, will you not? We will find a way."

    "I will protect her." Sonetto holds her glasfeder in a fist to her chest, a gesture that feels like a salute but of a musician's kind rather than a soldier's. She stands beside Tamamo, looking across the small-and-soon-wider gap between this pair and Lilian and Vertin. She fidgets with the tip of the implement, thumb sliding along the sharp point.

    "I will watch over Mrs. Tamamo while you are gone. Please watch over Timekeeper."

"The Storm and these monsters will kill them the same as us."

    Sonetto isn't comfortable at all with watching the skittering abdomen of White's spider form leave into the tunnels with Vertin on her back, but her thoughts are a maelstrom of too many things to focus on any one of them. Slowed, for a time, by Vertin's departure, dazed and stuck-in-place despite having made her peace with it, she belatedly murmurs out an answer to something Bond said earlier.

    "... Would it? The Storm... we do not know its nature, but I had always imagined that it was a weapon held by the enemy. The Manus Vindictae alone know where their safehouses are, or perhaps, how to create them. The monsters they create never attack their own kind either."

    She wraps her arms around herself uneasily. "We do not know any of that. The St. Pavlov Foundation only knows what extends to the borders of our campus. But if the Manus Vindictae could not guarantee Schneider's safety, then why not come to the Foundation in the first place?"

    She's a little too winded by Vertin's (to her) uncharacteristic display of romanticism to firmly cement Schneider as a 'bad person' in her mind. She is a girl, Sonetto knows, with a family and parents she comes home to, and bickers over dinner they made, who Vertin clearly cares about-- and despite that, in the Manus Vindictae. Her betraying them is far less shocking than her being the type to betray them and having gone to them in the first place.
Timekeeper "Maybe if we run into any Manus goons along the way we can clear them out so it's easier for Vertin to catch up."

    "Mmm. You are correct, Regulus." Regulus's surprising choice to say something tactical (if very self-evident) makes Sonetto feel almost embarrassed that she got so caught up in her thoughts. "Yes. Timekeeper will have considerably less firepower by her side, so it is our duty to try and clear the way. Once she has succeeded in retrieving Schneider's sister, they will be moving as quickly as possible to reconvene."

> Achille and Cosmo.

    Schneider's two normal ass gunmen fall into the group that Sonetto is navigating with, and she struggles with how to address this for a bit. She feels like she has to say something, but the connection between her and them walking together is tenuously strung along several people who aren't present at all. She feels some vague need to ask something about Schneider, but can't quite place what, and so her need to speak is fulfilled by the next prompt that enters the queue.

"She's your husband?!"

    "A married woman is known as a wife," Soentto informs the two mobsters, with seemingly no emotion behind saying so at all. She goes on to add, similarly confused-dispassionate, "Women can be married to each other in the future."

    When it comes to fighting, Sonetto does make good on her promise to pay particular mind to Tamamo, and Sotheby too. Knowing Vertin's sense of responsibility for everyone, in her absence it falls to Sonetto to feel critically responsible for the collective or else betray Vertin's expectations, so her fighting is more careful than it otherwise might be in the time limit. She has no compunctions against lethal shots, to either the masked or transformed goons of the Manus Vindictae that prowl the underground, burying shards of conjured light inside their chests and drawing elaborately cursive circles of protection to ward off roots and projectiles from crossing too close to her charges.
Ein 'Mmmh, does a prop-er lady have bodyguards? Should-not you know to clean your own messes?'

Sotheby, who had been along for the race and found a second wind, started lagging with the questions asked, and pragmatic ruthlessness of Schneider, but found her voice quickly.

"She does, of course! And sometimes the messes are too big for one lady, no matter how capable! Having reliable sorts around is only natural!"

She can rally behind the truth either way. "I can clean my own glass-ware, if that's what you're asking." Sotheby adds, before asiding to APPLe a conspiratorial "I think the bodyguards are the two in suits, Mr. APPLe!"

The arrival of White - bowing and all! - causes Sotheby to stop and do a curtsey back with a big smile, causing Moissan to double back and take Sotheby by the hand again to hustle her along, but things move with some swiftness until the roots cut in to stop things.

"I'm sure the grounds will be fine! And we can fetch Barry! And..." Sotheby adds, hopeful of returning home like it was all a bad dream, but her hopefulness is cut off by the encroachment of roots.

"Wow! Is it the Mandrake? No, it's growing far too fast..." Sotheby postulates, and Ms. Moissan scoops the wide-eyed little lady back up an arm to simply carry her away around the encroaching blockages in the twisted labyrinth.

'Ugh, I need some help over here!'

Odette gets in with her saw at the roots, and unshockingly the blade works on root serviceably, hacking the trapped Riku free. The bite of the axe causes a nerve-touched reaction of recoil, but Riku is out before the roots run from him in any fashion. Still reaching from ungrowing areas, Sotheby keeps her distance and Ms. Moissan tries to help Riku and Odette back up to carry on, their own marching orders clear...

And not intersecting the figure walking silently towards them.

"Sabre squadron will remain in this era until," Moissan begins, glancing at the ex-Manus operatives and doesn't have to invoke the one chasing them. "Later in the Storm event. They're carrying watches synchronized to the Timekeeper's first report, less several hours for safety reasons. We can rely on them for now."

As long as they can be reached.

'im several rocks and pieces that were found in rocks before'

The roots seeking Flamel, specifically, move past him like they're seeking something else entirely and he is so much empty air, and then the tips double back, a curl of cambium motion, growth that curls in reverse as sidelong glance. Something wasn't right, a trick on hunger's questions, and then Flamel is inquired on deeper. Drawn on, the language of minerals becomes trick-nutrient and he is lingered on in a mixture of confusion and increasing intensity.

As Flamel's first trick (i'm rock, who dis?) wears off, his second hitches the seizing of the fibrous fingers.

Insisting that he was chasing a photosynthetic strikes with strong afflatus, and again he's slid off and past, ignored by the hunting-seeking roots that search to seize and bind that which is theirs to consume and capture.

Flamel, in the room, had naturally insinuated himself into oddly sickening 'ally' in his previous encounter, and playing onto that naturally caused an aversive acceptance with other things guiding. If he fell back or forward, perhaps he'd have an opportunity.

Of course, that's not the only psychic return that the roots of Druvis gives.
Ein 'Us' and 'Together' answers the questions posed dogmatically, but the leaves do not speak to dogma, and the wind does not carry the song of sophistry to dew on grassblade. Defiance and presenting the strong face works to a point, but Veronica turns and projects bluster.

        'You're with them.'

The silence breaks, then, for Flamel, and Veronica, and Tamiel in her seeking of the mind behind. Peeking into the cracks for leverage, prizing for a look, leaves the prying fingers dark and the prying eyes ashen-coated, blistering mindscape with sickly sooted monochrome.

<torch-burner, lamp-holder, choke on your orange light and die> Druvis' psychic voice hangs reverberated in a hall that she booms in due to projection and acoustics, someone used to shouting to be heard in their own head, someone echoed so completely by the woods that even her dry intensity comes off as a snarling invocation by the dark curl of her absolute derision. The orange light of a whole street of people's Civilization exists there, and they all burn to live, just like each street and block in Chicago and hated 'America'.

The peeling-prying at her past fills Tamiel's senses with a wood's worth of ashes, burning every time, fire and fire and fire and fire so much that it somehow became boring, not tragic or hateful or anything other than scouredly lacking in essential meaning. The fire of memory burned heartlessly, the ash of regret could never be swallowed down, never cleared from the mouth.

In silence, she walks towards them, and she looms in silence at Tamiel for even looking - for even thinking to pry for looking, spear of root seeking her questioning gaze like a radar-guided missile, locked onto the signal of her intent such that she could relent in finding out or die about it through seeking and persistent penetration.

A mask like a wound, bound in burn-sealed wood, tilts slightly in approximation of curiousity while 'Druvis III' stops at an intersection, and from both sides before her it fills, smashed on both sides with a wave of woodmatter, masses of the stuff breaking through the stone and annihilating it on both sides as it crawls towards everyone.

Taking the long way around, the walking threat diverts, and the crush of roots becomes an immediate problem those not heading directly to the exit.

For those diverting. . .

There is the sound of silence, and the click of footsteps.
Riku Asakura Riku is hacked free by Odette, and he falls back and grabs the vine, throwing it away from himself.  He takes a breath before Tamamo walks to him and hands him a Talisman.  The change is immediate; his entire body feels like it's bathing in the sunlight, and that sunlight is power for Riku and Ultraman Geed.  

"Thank you, Mrs. Tamamo!" he says, brightly, and stands up again.  He can feel the sun's light flow through him.  His body is even healing faster than normal.  This seems to make his knee less painful.  

"You go!" he says, and draws out an Ultracapsule.  He clicks it, activating its power and summoning a Giant of Light near him.  "I go!" he does so again, but this time for a different capsule.  This time, a giant of darkness rises as both capsules are placed into a capsule holder.  "Here we go!" He states, scanning both capsules.  "It's time to get ready!" he states, lifting the Fusion Riser over his head and then across his chest in a fluid motion.  "GEEEEEEEED!"

FUSION RISE!
ULTRAMAN
ULTRAMAN BELIAL
ULTRAMAN GEED PRIMITIVE

He starts growing, first to fill the room, but then he keeps going.  "GEED CLAW!" he bellows out, before raising it towards the ceiling at an angle.  "CORKSCREW JAMMING!" and then Geed becomes a tornado of energy, aiming to burrow through the ceiling and the wall, making a hole for people to escape through upwards.  

Away from the roots attacking them, away from Druvis.  Hopefully, a way OUT of this forsaken Walden.  
White      The trek with Lilian, Vertin and Schneider finds White taking the travel itself fully seriously. There are points where it's too inconvenient to teleport around an entire group without losing their bearings or leaving enemies near-behind, and White doesn't need to break her stride to launch dark magic into the ones they absolutely can't route around. White is functionally just as informed by her wall-piercing sight as Lilian is by her divinations here, but it seems to bring White comfort that Lilian keeps the others abreast of what's coming up as they go.

     When the roots become more stubborn and intrusive, her scythe comes back out; her ability to wield it is typically a bit hampered by her mediocre footwork in human guise, but like this... She's a completely stable platform. No blind spots, perfectly even footing and the ability to rotate and turn without interrupting her original inertia at all; all of which give her far more control with which to swipe down the roots, split them with the blade and drive them back with rot-magic dissolution. This isn't the first, or even the second time she's used her magic specifically as anathema to *uppity trees*, and she suspects it likely won't be the last. Near the end, it might feel like White's even putting more effort in upon noticing Lilian's own signs of effort; she can't see the paused time, but she can see the results and the effects on Lilian, so she seems to be compensating automatically. Whether it's out of pragmatism or sentiment... Well, take your best guess.

     White is already pulling to a stop as they near the correct spot, and Schneider is first to beat upon the wall while the spider-woman is figuring out how to avoid casting debris inside; instead, she simply widens the gap after Schneider strikes it, making sure it doesn't crumble and collapse inconveniently. The reaction Marian gives when brought to consciousness is... To be expected. At least in White's mind, she immediately associates it with her own form, and the most tactful thing she can do is shift herself back to two legs, send away her scythe, and (in pure urgency) attempt to soothe Marian's panic with a calming variant of the Evil Eye.

"My-la-dy White. This is no place for her. Please, take her. My dear lord must stay, and so..."

     This is the time, then. A sense of reluctance sneaks up on White from seemingly nowhere, but it was there all along. Just... Put off. She begins with a nod, her agreement already foregone despite a simmering anxiety, but she still finds herself momentarily reaching out as if to give Schneider something. Only, there's nothing in her hand. Once again, she wonders what kind of blessing a god like her could give. "... I'll take care of her." she promises, because... She has to. That's the only way she can put Schneider's heart at ease.

     "Miss Lilian, Miss Vertin, Miss Schneider. Stay safe." she begins to murmur, almost giving up within moments on what form her 'blessing' should take. But, she does find one thing, eventually. "... Avoid Miss Arcana. No matter what. I think she's... Like me. But much... Much older. I couldn't... Read, most of her information."
White      Then, lingering a moment with her lips drawn tight, she inhales needlessly and delicately steps around to Marian's side. "Miss Marian... I'm sorry for scaring you. I'll take you away... From here. I'll keep you safe... Until your Sister comes to get you."

     She can wait there while the others speak, if needed, but once conversation is over... She scoops Marian up under her back and her knees, and teleports away before the elder sister can complain. Onto Foundation grounds, where she'll have to quickly figure out enough of the layout to find a somewhat safe, single-entrance room to occupy for the time being. She can close it off, produce food and water from her storage that she prepared for just this moment for Marian, and endure whatever term-setting needs to happen until Foundation staff accept her watching over Marian for the immediate future. Vertin's name will make it easier; White hopes that's all it takes. White hopes... A lot of things.
Tamiel Luxis     Tamiel listens to the absent, broken, hurt prayers of Druvis--a hurt she should have guesseda t. She should have known that her regrets and the forests would have been the same--another time she cursed about it. She told herself there was no way that Druvis would know what she could do--nevermind that she was looking.

    But, the vine rearing up to strike told another story entirely. Tamiel could feel Druvis' arcanum waft all around them, and she was left with the terrible impression that she--that they were ALL--standing in the palm of a hand, finger stopped a moment from closing.

    Her long scarf turns in the air, suddenly moving with purpose from where it wafted listlessly behind her, interrupting the spear of roots with all the solidity of a solid steel pillar--and still, the end pokes through. With a soft yelp, Tamiel selects 'give up,' backing away, her intent sliding sharply away from Druvis, even as her wings spread, momentarily trying to make herself look bigger--and having to pull back when they touched the walls of the cave.

    She gives one last look down the tunnel toward the Timekeeper. "Be okay, please..." She begs, out loud, before rushing after Riku, clamoring toward the exit.

    Tamiel had a sinking feeling, as they ascended, realizing that with Vertin left behind, they all of them might be running away from their only shelter from the storm.

    She had no choice but to believe in them.
Lilian Rook     'Marian! Marian!!!'

    That's the point it becomes real. The inexcusably inconvenient strategic objective 'Schneider's sister' turns into a person before Lilian's eyes. 'Retrieving the package' ceases to describe what they're doing. In the blink of an eye, there is a bloodied, beaten, and violently ill woman, shivering helplessly before her.

    §Imagine if it were Katrina.§

    §No don't.§

    §. . . Fuck.§

    "What the fuck did they do to her?" The words aren't gasped before Lilian thinks better of them; they wriggle their way out anyways. Her eyes linger on her bruises and her mind vividly fills in how they were made. They flinch away, settling on the horrid green slime, and then she becomes consumed with scanning around the glassware in storage, as if some helpful clue would pop up that expedites their situation at all. "What did you--" Lilian starts, then turns back away from Schneider in something distantly related to shame.

<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, already sounding heart-poundingly relieved, and still exactly as anxious. "We've located the-- Schneider's sister. Proceeding to rendezvous. Ensure neutralization of enemy asset 'Druvis'. Our exfiltration is being delayed."
<J-IC-Scene> Riku Asakura says, "Right."
<J-IC-Scene> Regulus hoping desperately, "Maybe she'll just let us bounce on outta here."
<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook snaps, "I'm not *asking*."

    'My-la-dy White. This is no place for her. Please, take her. My dear lord must stay, and so...'

    "What? No. You're taking--" Lilian stops as her lagging thoughts catch up. Desperate focus on Tamamo is set just to the side as she does the math. White has to take Marian straight to the Foundation, because it'll take a disk they don't have later if she just takes her to the manor. Appearing at the Foundation means immediately having to deal with the Foundation's response, and likely not popping right back over the ocean instead. Carrying Marian out is patently stupid; she has no idea how stable her condition is, and a limp body is a massive liability in this situation. She volunteered herself as the backup anyways.

    Lilian turns and kicks the wall in frustration. A piece of brick cracks off under the corner of her heel. "Fine. Fine. I'll extract Vertin and Schneider. I have plenty left in the tank." she says. She's right, and yet she's trying to control her rapid breathing. "If one of those people gets in th way-- I've never killed anyone before, you know? But tonight, I think I could."

    She backs away from White and Marian to give them room, then holds up her hand one more time out of habit. "Hang on. I'm going to get a little in-depth." She drops it to get at her carry harness, smoothly withdrawing a finger of ground-and-pressed arcane incense.
Lilian Rook     "We may as well take it all in one stretch. Cover me for two minutes and I'll divine exactly how the labyrinth is going to shift for the next fifteen minutes." Lilian says. She snaps her fingers to conjure a tiny ghost-coloured flame, only getting so far as lighting the end before hurrying on to kneel down and flutter-close her eyes in familiar trance. "I'll try to anticipate Druvis as well." The slow neutralization of her tone matches the rapid eye movement. The burning incense turns from cinder orange to the same will-'o-wisp colour as her flame.

    '... Avoid Miss Arcana. No matter what. I think she's... Like me. But much... Much older.'

    Lilian sweeps blind with her hand to find a flooring crack to jab them upright into. White disappears, and in that same absent-minded tone, Lilian says "Right. Arcana as well. Cover me a little longer and I'll--"

    Lilian stops as if she's been shot. The violent full-body twitch and the ensuing dead stillness need only a slow look down at first seeping blood to complete the moment. Her eyes shoot wide open; her pupils are constricted to pinpoint dots. Her breath catches in her throat, and not even a strangled sound escapes. The incense bursts into lazuli flame just as her hands leap from her sides and clutch at her head, and crumbles to dust, consumed by the flame, faster than her sword clatters to the flagstones beside her. Lilian doesn't even seem to notice.

    She can't. Her eyes won't move. Her voice won't come out. She can't see. Can't hear. Can't think. Through overwhelming force of will, she lurches halfway upright, and takes one electrocuted step forward, as if her body were taking over control in the complete absence of any direction from the brain. Then the ragged scream at the back of her throat finally builds up so much pressure that even the betrayal of every single cell of her body can't stop it anymore, and the very moment she runs out of breath with which to scream, Lilian collapses, failing to even break her fall.

    Crashing into the ground, Vertin and Schneider can finally slivers of burning gold light seeping through her hair, down her back. No one present can diagnose it as the full effort of Tamamo's handiwork keeping her physical form in the same shape. A delirious sound of pain is the most that Lilian can manage at all; a limit she pushes past for just a few seconds, crawling the vast gulf of eight inches between her and her sword and laying her fingers on the hilt just before she blacks out.
Veronica     <torch-burner, lamp-holder, choke on your orange light and die>

    More than the physical force of the roots, it is Druvis's overwhelming, surging *contempt* that gives Veronica pause. She feels compelled to make some answer, even if only for herself and Druvis alone to hear. It's a big question, though. Is this all worth it if it makes things like Chicago of 1929, like the scorched Weyerhauser forest? Or L Corp and the City, for that matter? Whether logs and coal and gasoline or the essence of dreams, *something* burns to keep these places alive. The smog-choked sky of her youth hangs heavy in her thoughts...

    Veronica hesitates while Riku transforms and Flamel broadcasts his panic over telepathy. Long enough for the vines to coil around her EGO's crudely-human form, long enough that she might be the last one out in Ultraman Geed's wake...

    Perhaps Baker and Seventh is *itself* the answer. Not the brick and concrete of its shell, but the crucible of souls within, three thousand hearts beating like thunder. People who were fated to be food for the system above them, a resource to be mined and burned just like the rocks and the trees. People that wish - now strive - for something *new*.

    <We are building a revolution,> Veronica - no, all of Firefly Dam - replies at last, <and when we are finished there will be space and sky and soil enough for the trees to shade the hills again.>

    Finally, aloud, just Veronica this time, softly through her EGO's speakers: "I'm sorry we didn't start sooner."

    Then she jumps, and scrabbles half-physically, half-telekinetically up the slope and out of the labyrinth, leaving Druvis with no-one but the roots for company.
Schneider Greco White reaches out, empty-handed, to give Schneider no blessing.

Schneider is used to gods seeming less apologetic for this.

     She takes White's hand and squeezes it, tighter than one would assume her little fingers could do, and for the second time this evening her eyes scrunch too. The lashes are starting to glisten a little, now.

     "Thank you, my-la-dy. As the La-dy Rook says, it's... the on-ly thing I can ask you. What hap-pens now, it is in my hands, right?" Whether that's meant to be reassuring, or absolving, it's hard to guess.

She takes Marian's hand, then, and puts it in White's. It feels cold and clammy.
"Marian. She is a friend, from my night-errands. Please..."
"Padre, Figlio, e Spirito Santo...!"
"I have bro-ken bread, at her home. She will care for you, as she says."
"Schneider... p-please, wait... wh--whyy do you have to..."

     Marian's chest shudders against White's back. Schneider touches White's shoulder, and looks White in the eyes with a meager smile.

"Please..."
"Thank you."
"Don't..."
"Go."
Flamel Parsons     Making his break to move to aid Druvis, Flamel forms up on her, blindly grasping around... His sincere blindness, in this case, is almost useful. *Almost*. "Hey-- there we go. Sorry, my herbaphony is *nothing*, I had a bit of roots trouble." He explains. "That photokinetic got me in the eyes *hard*, I can barely... Have you found them?"

    The giant makes this question a little moot. "Ah-- careful, *that* one's a torch-y type..." He takes his combat stance, planting two fingers on his temples... That's when the floating door emerges. That's when it slowly slides onto the back of Druvis' head... And there it is. "Go!! NOW!!!" His shout is the only sign that he's going to turn on her.

    ---

    He is walking in a scorched wood. His blinded eyes soot-blackened. His lungs full of ash. There's fire. There's heat. Undoubtedly Nightmares swarm the place, undoubtedly Doubts and Regrets weigh the mental ecosystem down, undoubtedly the trees crash down and the ash blows in the wind. Horrid mental vaults, twisted by the distortions of grief and pain, surely spew fire from the past.

    Coughing, struggling, Flamel could only exist here for a minute at most. He uses the time wisely. He shuts the few vaults he can manage to close. He clears the blackened forest's bones as much as he's able. He gathers the sparse few seeds there are to find in a minute, and he finds the places he can plant them, where ash from the burned woods will nourish a newer growth.

    It's not enough. There's too much ash and destruction in the worldview. The fire in memory burns too bright and too hot. A landscape of pain can't be disrupted by platitudes. 'Well, it's dark and sad right now, but someday it'll get better!' Says someone who has never felt this grief and pain, who doesn't know that it *won't* get better. It'll never, ever, ever get better, and the recovery from that damage is only an adjustment of the life to accommodate the wound, not a recovery from it. Like an amputation, a deceased pet, a terminal prognosis, or a burned tree, certain processes work only in one direction. Some things just aren't found again, and some lost things are never restored.

    He'd intended to deliver the Stormchaser Procedure through her, trying to take a shot at a prime subject. But at this rate, the idea of even finding a door deeper in this mindscape is unthinkable. The best he can do is survive until he's kicked out.

    ---

    Reeling back from Druvis III, he chokes a brief, strained, "S-sorry...!" Agonized, stricken by sympathetic grief, he flutters into invisibility. Platitudes aren't going to heal her, but like for any person who has suffered tremendous loss, they can make her less of a problem for the people who continue to exist and the world that continues to not end when hers has. That is to say, it should have zoned her out for a good few seconds, maybe a minute, and it should give her a brief emotional stun to recover from, maybe slow the roots a short while. Flamel has to *dash* away, invisibly...
White      In those moments before leaving, when Schneider is squeezing her hand, meeting her eyes in that way, White finds that... She has never seen this before. She's been entrusted, before. She's been accepted, before. She's been thanked, before. But this is... Different. It's too earnest.

     And for a moment, she realizes... It's scary. 'She' thinks she doesn't understand. 'She' also thinks that she probably does, and 'She' also tries to push that second voice down. Because... If she acts on impulse here, it could ruin everything. All White wanted was to prove that what Schneider dreamed of was simple enough to be given to her. If White won't do as she asks now...

     Her hand, led from Schneider's into Marian's, is warm, soft, dry and still. By any physical measure, even down to her eerily regulated heartbeat, she should feel utterly calm. Her anxiety is almost solely felt in the uncomfortable way her fingertips curl, wanting to squeeze back but feeling some kind of danger in it.

     Schneider wants to do something for someone she cares about. White hadn't seen their meetings or learned of how they came to be fond of each other, but Vertin... Vertin is smart. They seem like they each provide the other something they need. So... White has to support Schneider's wish, even if it's changed a bit. She has to take any weight she can off of her, and have faith. Lilian is here too, and White will have to repay her later...

     Of course, she couldn't have known what would happen moments later. If she had, she might have betrayed Schneider's wishes after all.
Timekeeper     This is a circumstance where even Vertin has to contribute to combat. The gap between what can be called 'arcanist' has never been more clear than when Vertin withdraws her little white-blue baton that she keeps close to her chest, and turns it towards the monsters roaming the halls. Thick carpets of roots writhe and grope down from the ceiling on the orders of a mistress who isn't even close by, occupying White and Lilian's blades to clear through them, and the groaning of wood drowns out the short incantation Vertin chants, and small ripples like mirage in the air dart from her wand to collide with the enemies.

    All the basic incantations Vertin is capable of casting do is impact with a sense of delirious vertigo for a brief second, forcing the bouncers or goopy monsters to stagger. That's enough time for Schneider to land a killshot, covered by Lilian and White as they are, so the artillery platform of White's back moves steadily through the labyrinth.

"Marian! Marian!!!"

    "...?! That's her?!"

    Hurrying through the hole in the wall that Schneider made, Vertin recoils at the scene in the cell. The thought that these cells might be the very thing the labyrinth exists to conceal, that there might be a never-known number of others imprisoned behind stone walls only to be washed away in the Storm, settles in her stomach like knives. Just like there should have been a community of Schneiders if not for the choices of the world, there are a thousand Marians out there, and this is the only one that can be saved.

"What the fuck did they do to her?"

    "I believe it's truth serum." Vertin's dismay turned to propellant, kneeling down and inspecting the green serum on the ground. Her own personal fascination with alchemy, and the sensitivity she has to magic, gives her the answer after checking the difference between the sealed vials and what must have been spit up by Marian rejecting it from her body during her isolation.

    Her voice is dry and tense, familiar enough to know the signs and the treatment on sight and still miraculously sensitive to it. "Please tell them that, White. Bring a vial if possible. There may be other toxins in the serum used as part of the torture."

"Schneider... ohh, virgin Mary, who are these?!"

    The way Vertin switches so completely between that matter-of-fact and businesslike tone, to crouching down and softly talking Marian through her confusion, feels shocking. Really, it's only a slight modulation to her characteristically flat monotone, well-practiced for the particular purpose of soothing the discomfort of 'madness'.

    "My name is Vertin. I'm a friend of your sister's." She takes her hat off for a bit, so the silhouette of her face is clearer even to bleary eyes. "We're helping you to a safe bed soon, Marian. It's all alright now; there's nothing more for you to do but relax and recover."

"Miss Lilian, Miss Vertin, Miss Schneider. Stay safe."

    Vertin straightens up and places her hat back on with a quiet sigh. "Thank you, White. You stay safe as well."

"If one of those people gets in th way-- I've never killed anyone before, you know? But tonight, I think I could."

    "I have three fire ritual disks remaining, as well as one each of wind, lightning, and freezing. My own arcanum isn't strong, but I've used hardly any today." Vertin rattles off quickly, for operational cooperation. The Timekeeper isn't purely an escort companion, even if this conflict is orders of magnitude higher scale than what any Field Agent prepares for.

    "If you believe it'd aid your teleportation, it's also possible for myself and Schneider to step inside the suitcase temporarily. I'd rather not leave you on your own, but I'll raise it as an option."
Timekeeper     Then there are minutes where there's nowhere to go but here, and no one here but the three of them. The method of entry into the cell, punching a hole through the wall, means there's only one angle of attack to watch out for, in addition to the ceiling where the roots might emerge from. Vertin hypothesizes briefly on the nature of the druid's tracking abilities, with how the roots have largely receded from their vicinity once White teleported away-- vibrations in the earth, maybe, or by communicating with the roaming Manus creations.

    But, there's Schneider too, and even in the tense minutes of defending Lilian while she sets up her divination, Vertin has to share words with her. "... She will be safe there. And they'll take care of her too."

    Either forgetting that Lilian can overhear, or not bothering to monitor herself around specifically these two people, Vertin goes on. "You're right not to trust the Foundation; they're far from perfect. But I'll be with you all the rest of the way. They aren't fond of me, but they know how far they're able to push me, and this I won't budge on."

    "That's the biggest difference between the Foundation and the Manus Vindictae to me. When it comes down to it, the Foundation finds me indispensible. I can use that privileged position to ensure that more-than-no-one survives. At least when I..."

    Vertin's cheek falls on Schneider's shoulder, in a gap where there's no more visible threats. A shiver of surprisingly sudden vulnerability wracks her body, surrounded by the scent of oranges. "I'm glad you came." Then--

"Right. Arcana as well. Cover me a little longer and I'll--"

    Lilian's voice stopping cold makes Vertin jolt and whirl around. "Lilian? Lilian!"

    She rushes over to catch her, stiff as a board and grunting with the effort of keeping her from hitting the ground. She looks around as if there's been an attack, but there's no magic in the room besides the divination itself, and the azure flame that consumes the components. "What is this? Arcana? Schneider!"

    Vertin finally flips open the clasps of her suitcase, revealing the starry void within just to unceremoniously shove Night Mist into storage and pack it up. Then she crouches and slips her arms under Lilian's shoulders, leaving her feet for Schneider to carry.

    "We have to get out of here now. We have to hope that most of the Manus's forces are occupied with the others or consolidated in the Walden by now. The exit can't be far, we just--" She twists her head to snap at the air, cut off as if she was spoken over. "Can't you say anything helpful?"

    After a few seconds more of silence, she shuffles around to carry Lilian's feet instead, bracing her baton against Lilian's shin so it's at the ready. "You're stronger than me."

    It's a burst of adrenaline to even carry someone who weighs just about as much as the two of them put together despite Lilian being a fairly average weight herself. Much less the navigation of the maze, and the bursts of fighting along the way. But it's then, hauling Lilian's unconscious body, that Vertin and Sonetto appear on the far end of the hallway while the other group clambers out through the hole Geed made in the ceiling. Just within reach of freedome and fresh air, in sight of the others, is when Druvis reappears in front of them to intervene.
Schneider Greco      "Truth serum," Schneider agrees. She knows procedure.

     In the sudden absence of White and Marian, Schneider hugs her coat a little tighter around herself. It's rare for her to feel cold. Vertin's warmth is welcome; she shuffles the coat off her shoulder to feel it against her skin.

     "When it comes down to it, the Foundation finds me indispensible. I can use that privileged position..."
     "Careful," Schneider breathes. Being reassured for Marian is nice. But depending on someone else's usefulness, rather than her own, makes her queasy. As the gentlest reproach: "I doubted you less be-fore you said 'indispensable', my dear lord."

     Was there a time when Schneider thought she was? But, betrayal or no... "... I was, al-ways, going to be here for you." There is at the least no world where Schneider helps the Manus bring Vertin in.

     "I've never killed anyone before, you know?"
     "I know." How?

     "But tonight, I think I could."
     "You will-not have to." Schneider can't dramatically cock her guns. They're always cocked, even in the holster. "Nei-ther you, nor Lord Vertin."

     Schneider is just doing her own foggy-droplet-in-palm divination- a smaller, simpler divination than Lilian's, which is perhaps what saves her- and widening her eyes at the result, when Lilian collapses to explain it.

     "Merda, sul serio?! Can't you carry her and I fight-- no, too heavy for you-- heavy cow, I--" Schneider instantly springs into figuring out the Lilian-transport arrangement. Glancing at the suitcase's starry void: "Can't we throw her down the stairs?! No, no..."

     She isn't used to having a woman's topless body against her back. She's not happy about it, either. The weight can (just barely) be borne by her alone, keeping Lilian's arms crossed around her neck with one arm, but that plummets the group's combat effectiveness, so taking as much weight off her as possible is Vertin's job.
Ein Druvis III has her mindspace entered by Flamel Parsons, and to her the fire had become so rote as to be boring, a state that persisted until it had become normal, that she had ceased to register the damage, the crackling pop of wood being consumed, the lit-coal carbon orange simply the hue of the world - to Flamel, the fire was almost overwhelming. His minute-at-most is spent in a storm of heat and difficulty as he finds scattered tools of arson somehow built into the landscape that are themselves the vault doors he seeks, closing the flaming rifts through the mental motions of hazard disposal among his motions through rooms of soot and black, slamming shut the memories and scattering the hope-wish of seeds on the cracked ground there after.

It is a kind gesture. The air doesn't clear, in his minute there, the smoke too thick and pervasive. The oak burns in memory, and Druvis III lays atop the branch, immolated in boredom, licked by flame that has become her skin, eternally consumed while dangling her heel off toe.

It wasn't natural. There was a dysfunction in the damage. No branch burned forever. The process went in one direction, but it went, and it ended, and this was stuck. Settled into a frozen moment, because it was held there. Dwelt on, dwelt within, the forest never grew because Druvis III 'burned', and so the moment froze in grief even as the flame glowed brightly.

Even the seeds didn't grow, and not because they burned - it was because she did. As Flamel runs out his clock, the burning woman in the tree turns, rises on limbs, drops down onto floor of memory,

---

The wooden-masked woman takes a staggered step forward and balances before turning, gesturing open-palmed and having obeying length of wand climb to meet the blade of hands sweeping out to point at Flamel. Short of hitting him, hesitating on conducting the full wave of wood after him, the psychic is gone in invisibility immediately in apology and Druvis stands still for a moment. The silence is broken with the cycling-down motion of breath, fingers draping across the winged top to brush fingers on the silver crescent there.

A root, tentative, dips from replaced ceiling to swat through the air where he was.

Gone. Druvis takes a step, and then another, and then finds most of the pace she had once held following the flight of the Timekeeper's allies. Most of it, but she has long since grown accustomed to the scent of ashes and thus does not notice the orange smoldering of her mask's wooden exterior.

Hopefully, a way OUT of this forsaken Walden.

It is again Ultraman who transforms and drills through the stone labyrinth, his colorful spinning ripping through wall and ceiling in an upward spiral. First to breach through, cursing the pit itself by the end, Geed can see that the ashen forest seems to have become writhingly alive under the ghost-mist covering turned and twisted by the Storm. A pit of snakes without heads or ends, the fresh roots spill through turned-over earth and peek out like exposed muscle fibers, having reshaped the terrain in their dive beneath the Walden. Stone foundation run through and in some places replaced with wood, the fine construction of the aboveground building floats faintly as a still island in a sea of gentle vegetal motion.

More continues to move slowly, having lost steam as much of it redirected into the underground in force and the growth was committed in less travelling ways. Still, it's a good thing Geed's out - and those that had not diverted can follow Ultraman in quick order.

Ms. Moissan carries Sotheby by the hand at first, leading up the incline and ensuring that her middle-of-the-pack motion kept nobody lagging behind. By the time they reach the midpoint of the incline, the Field Agent is giving a determined piggyback ride to Sotheby while ensuring Regulus makes her handholds and doesn't slip. Held tight in her expression, the cold 'I must make it through this' lock in gave her a burst of energy with misty exterior light visible.
Ein Druvis III continues to walk after the escaping group for a time, Veronica's megaphoned words falling on a silent-smoking mask's pursuit.

The derision doesn't even consciously reconnect, but because Veronica turns to apologize to the pit she escapes from the sin of, she hears the muttered response, a rasp of dry echo:

<when you> so pointed, you, you and not 'us' <are finished.>

Again, an underline, and the sickness of the expression would be paint on any other canvas but the burning impassivity of wood offers no insight as to what beyond the ugliness of the feeling.

<when.>

And then the roots close the way direct and Druvis turns, seeking again.

---

Moments pass. The alert seems to shift to a caution phase, and loose sweeps of single Manus individuals move through the hallways, and the roots stop completely from continuing further. Disinterested in following the escape of those who had already gotten clear of the Walden, there isn't anything more stiff than a few scouting and perimeter parties on the outskirts, now featuring single Manus-changed individuals escorting packs of freshly masked 'civilians', deployed in a loose dragnet that hasn't tightened yet.

---

Moments pass. Within the Walden's interior, two slight women expend great effort to lift and carry someone who herself was nearly them both in weight plus gear. It was foolish, and yet, it was working, and perhaps all that was needed was immense and overwhelming providence for this operation. The bore-hole where Geed's Corkscrew Jammer emerged from is 'safe', impossibly, right up until Vertin and Schneider - carrying a somehow-disabled Lilian - enter the upper shaft and begin climbing.

Perhaps someone shouts. Perhaps it is the slight smolder-crackling in the silence broken by steady steps. Whatever way, it is the hope-dashing moment that is perceived, as with gesture of wand to lift of palm, the conducting of a dome-wall of roots at the borehole mouth is a terrible reality in a surge of vegetal expansion, though when it is over, the Walden has a growth like a tree twisted out of dark roots without bud or leaf and not a great mass of seeking roots pushed from its side, and there is no more way in --

        --or out.

---

The masked woman lowers wand after that moment, wavering after. Her head had been throbbing since Flamel's violation of it, but the pattern she had been in was something that didn't settle comfortably in her at all any more. A happenstance construction of relative values, without the particular relationality of it all in place she couldn't find her way back. What was more, she wasn't happy where she was. She didn't want to go back.

The doors were shut. Did she want to open them? The handles were so hot, and she did not need to...

Hanging head, Druvis reaches hand to sense the heat against her own mask and her fingertip comes away singed, pausing in her final pursuit of Schneider and Vertin with her introspective realization that she was, in fact, burning. Still burning, after all this time, the one aflame even if her every sense denied it. That, too, was the burning. The light of her wand dims as the tip lowers, direction paused.
Schneider Greco Will I live?
If you play your cards right.
Will everyone else?
Yes.
Then what am-I to do?
Run.

     Gnosis is rarely as clear as words, but the drop of fog that splashed on Schneider's palm a minute ago might have sounded like that.

     She doubts it, now, when the roots close the labyrinth from the light.

     "No!! Chiavare, Druvis, what do you--!!" she chokes out- lunging- too late- inadvisably close to Druvis and the roots in that final vestibule, with a sudden ferocity despite Vertin by her side and Lilian on her shoulders. She staggers back the step, her blizzard of black feathers spilling sprays of red from the Manus and trimming trees to buy her safety again.

     Schneider curses herself for hoping that, perhaps, Druvis might have only been trying to stop their escape for show.

     The cloud of a dozen sharp black feathers can protect her, Vertin, and their passenger like swimming knives. The guns they coalesce into threaten death, for anyone who pushes their luck. She can defend herself adequately for a while, still.

     It's time enough for the adrenaline to soak its way into her thoughts, and to spot an opening, when the harrying morass hits an incidental lull.

     (Her two guns have twenty-seven bullets between them, now. Is that enough? Enough to kill Druvis, if she gets lucky, but that won't un-block the path now. Enough to shoot her way back up through the Walden? No. Then what could playing her cards right possibly mean?)

     Click, and the gun re-forms in her waiting left hand, in the half-a-heartbeat where she can afford to thin her feathery protection.
BANG, through the heart of a Manus bouncer.
BANG, through the neck of another clawed minion.
Now it's just Druvis in this room, though there's far more Manus swarming in the corridors behind. The smoking barrel aims at a narrow angle through the encroaching roots--
BANG
--and twitched up, just a degree, toward Druvis's woven mask.

     "My lady, look at me!" that ninety-pound girl barks desperately at Druvis. Her eyes are wide, electric. There isn't time to explain everything. Just a moment, face to face, will be enough- or it won't.
Ein The Manus had been unhurried in their pursuit - or hesitant to interrupt the moving silence with the break of marching boots or clicking heels and talons. The escape into the corridors after Flamel had stunned Druvis with his audacity had brought so many more of the seething-seeking masked and monstrous beings into the pursuit, a flood withheld by root and soil eroding and washing through with oilblack and danger.

They had almost made it out.

Almost.

When Druvis picked up her pursuit again at the end, stepping into the way with a closing wrap of vines, she was 'escorted' by some of the Manus threats swept before her, able to rush down Schneider and Vertin without having to step around Druvis to do so. The bodies make the colors indistinct, blacks in dark tunnels, and torchlight radiant against wood behind.

Schneider lunges forward, guns up, feathers out, and sees Druvis now, alight again.

In Druvis' forest home, such as it was, for the 'picnic' Schneider brought, such as it could be called, Druvis had in her humble lantern caught a single orange-burning light for guiding the slight woman to the forest's heart.

It had taken all the mystery from Schneider, robbed her of the chance to make the choice simply and see where it led her when she saw firelight upon the ash-grey.

This time, however, it is the woman who casts the orange light of 'Civilization' that destroys the hope of chance, or at least smolders in orange and grey from branch-and-beasthead wooden mask and offers obstacle.

Hovering before her, all too familiar to Schneider, is Druvis' obedient winged cane-wand. Summoned to the hovering untouch of conducting, it is the druid's first automatic response to shield herself not from an attack from Schneider but the spilling of the bouncer nearby, a net of young roots cushioning the dead bouncer's oozing body to prevent it from falling on Druvis. There's no glare down or even reaction to her treasonous bullets striking the Manus. Detached completely, a burnt-fingered Druvis lists to the side with the lean of her head, giving the catlike blank face of her mask a questioning look -- being slowly smoked out by the slow consumption of her mask and not completely capable of perceiving Schneider as a threat, there's a heavy lag to the reality of the situation.

Schneider moves wand muzzle off the clawed Manus, and sights down Druvis.

Realizing, all at once, Druvis' palm moves. Roots close in a barrier between them, leaping from mesh.

Growing things, thinking things, the beats of living things' hearts...

All slower than the triggers on the wands made whisperlight. Schneider had already drawn down and all it took was a commitment to a third bullet.

BANG, and the roots stop growing. Druvis' wand drops out of the air and loudly 'p-tunk!'-s onto the floor before clattering on debris-strewn floor and rolling towards Schneider into the partial closure of roots.

BANG, and Druvis' whole body turns as her head is wrenched about, a great woody crack sending a burning third of it spinning off her face and the other pieces snapping off in cindering chunks and sooty smoke. Dropped to the ground, coughing in a half-crouch that she hand-stopped in her fall, Druvis III is plunged from sleepwalking into the waking world with the taste of ash heavy in her mouth, context being chopped from the source by the animal reality.

Threat. Danger. Pain. Burning! The ringing of steel in her ears, the dulled echo of three peals of hand-bound thunder in a closed hallway.

Lifting, snapping eyes out, down the only path there is, Druvis' dangerseeking eyes seek wildly and find Schneider there, smoking muzzle, seeking in expression.

'What is the 'right' a-mount of pain, I some-times won-der, when I have made a mistake?'

Confusion, unrising, the dream gone from her and with it any memory of it for now, Druvis' lips part in an almost apologetic beat of breath.

"It's you?"