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Owner	Pose
Lilian Rook	Proper coordinates ostensibly lead to somewhere in the UK (which means it's probably good thing Lilian specified the venue or else one would be right to worry about the oxymoron of british cooking) though not somewhere that just quite seems to line up with a specific city from baseline Earth. Not a notable one, anyways. One would never guess immediately after arriving though, given the status of it.     There are signs of historical construction here and there, largely in districts down closer to the sea, for that cozy sort of facade (and no doubt comforting feeling of living in a building that has yet to be assailed after hundreds of centuries), but most of it is very much new.     Given how extremely vertical it all is, rising into the sky rather than being a sprawling puddle of ever-creeping suburbs like most 'modern' cities, it can't actually be made out of the amount of pretty marble and granite and glass and quartz that it looks to be, mostly of extremely energy efficient designs. Subtle solar markers are constantly present where they can be indicated (including the infamous idea of a solar roadway), as well somehow finding a surprising amount of space for art installations and tiny public parks around meticulously planned corners that would otherwise seem cramped.     The air is clean, the leaves are still green, the roads and paths are completely clear of snow or ice (though there isn't much anyways, by the coast), there isn't a power line or fire hydrant to be seen, there are cameras absolutely everywhere, all the signage is emitted holographically, and those with the senses to tell immediately know that they are inside and under a distant field of immensely powerful magic, like a dome overhead.     The particular place they're directed to seems to be down an entire well-organized street for leisure purposes, occupying multiple storeys of a white marble building with tinted windows, much like everything else goes up and down. Warm inside ambiance, generous space between every table and booth, gleaning mahogany upholstery, a live ensemble playing soft music, and shelves and shelves of expensive bottles, makes it abundantly clear they're walking into something very upscale. There isn't much of a crowd, but the type of people make it abundantly clear why Lilian had said not to dress in jeans. It seems nobody bothered to install TVs or radios, given everyone has the next logical step from a smartphone already, and a few are watching the news or stocks displayed a foot in front of their faces.     That makes it a little more surprising to see that Lilian has apparently reserved the second floor. Granted, it isn't where the main bar is, but it's still a whole floor. Wait staff are already on hand to take coats and place orders immediately --no slapping someone with the menu and wandering off for fifteen minutes-- and an internal concierge is around to guide them to their spot and make any recommendations. True to the claim, the selection is from pretty much everywhere northwest of Turkey and southeast of Iceland, with the names of the individual chefs responsible for each on the daily menu for people who are really specific about who they trust for quality, and also pretty much to show off that people actually from those countries are doing it.     Lilian has a wide semicircular booth for about a dozen people set out, looking slightly drowned in it as a single person who isn't exactly a giant. Despite kinda looking not quite old enough to be here without a parent, she already has a cluster of bottles at center table, and is wearing a green and black dress and a silver necklace and earrings that probably cost more than most people's parents are in fact worth.
Gawain	Among those arriving at the tall building, directed to the second floor, is one Sir Gawain, Knight of the Sun. He immediately senses the magic around them, but pays it little mind beyond curiosity, instead heading into the restaurant and towards the reserved second floor. He's dressed 'nice but casual', no jeans (he considered it, though), wearing a casual open-jacket suit, dark jacket with light shirt, and a pair of suit pants. When he spots Lilian (as the only person who isn't wait staff up here), the knight moves to take a seat. He's not exceptionally tall (only standing about 5'9) but he's physically fit, clearly an athletic and well-trained individual, like a knight should be. His short blonde hair has been trimmed ever so slightly, though the Immune will notice something entirely differently, likely, if her magical senses are passive. Gawain positively radiates magic. He is completely made of the stuff, though he appears to have a physical body anyways, and he said he could bleed (though it was complicated). The spirit knight takes a seat, ordering a flavorful steak off the menu with a side of pasta, and a cold glass of water. Apparently he can eat, too. "Dame Rook, it's a pleasure to meet you in person. You didn't have to book an entire floor...though it's much appreciated! I am Sir Gawain, Knight of the Sun, Warden of the Paladins, to introduce myself face-to-face." He seems cheerful, and generally polite, tipping his head to the host.
Spider-Man	Spider-Man now has a /nice suit/ on advice from others. Not as nice as Tony's tend to be, of course, but pretty damn nice. It's actually not embarrassing! He's been working on his mask, too, and he's made it sort of a formal shade of black that matches his casual-ish blazer jacket. The goggles are still prototyping, though, and stay bulky. His lapel pin has the little spider symbol on it, because he's gotta stick to branding.     "This got really advanced, really fast." Peter mutters to himself, adjusting the mask on his face a few times awkwardly. "Why is it that rich people and criminals give me almost the exact same weird danger feeling?" He gets out of the Uber Black that he accidentally ordered off of his fancy super-TV that Tony Stark gave him, adjusts his tie, and heads inside. "Hey! Uh, hello, Miss Rook. Dame...? Dame Rook." He tries to get a more formal way of speaking. He's not very good at it, and it falls apart at the next sentence. "Wow, you arranged something big. This is casual? I kind of..." His goggles squint awkwardly, but he shakes his head. "Well, thanks! I don't know much about the magic stuff, but I definitely want to learn more and help out."     He takes a seat, eyes clearly wide and focused and wanting to learn more about whichever of the particular topics he's heard about that she's going to talk about.
Gilgamesh	It's really unfair how Gilgamesh can make any outfit look like the finest formalwear just by putting it on.      The King enters the floor in a brown jacket with a fur collar, black pants, a red shirt that shows off the top of his chest, and golden boots. On anyone else this would be grounds for throwing them out immediately - it's clearly casualwear, though it's especially nice casualwear. On Gilgamesh it looks like he's dressed up for a formal occasion, shaped to the golden perfection of his physical form. With a casual motion, he flicks off his coat and hands it to one of the staff. He's so used to being waited on that he doesn't thank them or comment on them. He simply strides over to the booth with that imperious air to him.      The King sits down next to Lilian. He doesn't look at the menu. He simply orders 'the finest you have,' and if asked a question like 'of what,' he simply says 'everything.'      It doesn't take someone with magic senses to sense the King's power as he stretches his arm out in the booth. The late-teen King of Heroes is a beacon of magic even in a magical world, a relic from an age of heroism where magic was thick enough to kill an ordinary person just by breathing it in. The faint golden glow around him is enough.      He doesn't give an introduction, probably because he assumes he *really* doesn't need one. Instead, he picks up a glass of water and takes a lazy sip as other people introduce themselves. The air of ego is just...outstanding.      He doesn't even say anything. He's just silent after he orders, sipping water and listening to others.
Zenos yae Galvus	A large figure would come up the steps, entering to walk upon the second floor. His steps are slow and methodic, not hesitant, but without the need to push himself. This was an experience, a world outside his own...and today it would be one to learn more about the worlds that surround his. This figure, build well, and with long blonde hair and an absolutely beautiful face and features walks towards the booth that Lilian had already held.     The man, waring regal colors, but with the same self dark colors of the Garlean Empire. A cape is hung over his shoulders, clapped onto his shoulders by a black steel attatchment. His shirt dark red, the color and symbology of his house upon it. Pants, similarly well tailored. Black, and created from some fiber that isn't quite silk, but isn't quite wool or polyester.     The figure of the man is large, well toned beneth the shirt, but also just seemingly having a large frame. The cape is a similar color to the shirt itself, on the back, but a dark grey on the inside. On each hand rests a gauntlet, though not war-like weapons that he would normally ware, they likely are function as well as form.     Once he has approached, he speaks calmly, confidently, but almost as if slightly bored, "I am High Legatus Zenos yae Galvus, General of Garlemald and Imperial Viceroy of Ala Mhigo and Doma. A pleasure to meet you formally." he says, though without any bows. He takes a set when offered, sitting down fluidly and without much more fanfare.     "Hm...so many cultures represented. You, order taker. I will have a sample of each culture's best dish. Seperate, of course, and whatever your finest wine is."     Without indicating anything else, he takes a sip of the water. Hydration is important, when mastering the blade.
Alexis	Alexis scrolled back through the part of the conversation she had missed before her device got her attention, and initially made a face at the mention of 'dress nicely'. Which was followed by several minutes of convincing her super fussy Nidoking that 'dress nicely' didn't mean 'fancy' before he tried to shove her into some sort of frilly nonsense. Casual was the only style she did save for very rare occasions. That said when Alexis does find her way to the designated location she has at least cleaned up from whatever monster related activity she had been out on beforehand. It was still well into casual turf, but she was wearing slacks instead of jeans and a decent looking blazer jacket in place of her usual grungy and worn out coat. At least the Vulpix sitting on her shoulder is dressed up by having a bow tied behind one of her ears. She does take one look at the setup and lets out a soft whistle. "If this is 'casual but nice' I'd almost be scared to see what 'formal' would of been." Lilian's own outfit is indicator enough of where that would of potentially went.
Sarracenia	Those native to this city (and perhaps even those who are not) might be surprised to see a wooden airship much like a Spanish galleon some 60 feet in length sailing through the air toward the meeting place. It sports propellers where the sails would have been on its ocean-going counterpart, and while it is hard to see from below it is manned by piranha plant people.      It reaches the tower and floats carefully down to ground level in the closest area, then rotates with the stern facing the building and a large section of it lowers to form an exit ramp. This allows three ladies dressed in intricate gowns to disembark. One is the always well dressed Princess Sarracenia, wearing her typical red dress with a billowing skirt that almost makes it look like she is gliding across the ground rather than walking. Flanking her would be Note and Tomoe, both dressed in rather fine dresses themselves. Not quite as intricate or heavy or billowing as Sarra's dress, but still of royal calibre and with more frills than most. She has instructed them them to walk close beside and just behind her, like a proper royal party. Whether they follow those instructions she can't really control.      Once inside, Sarracenia curtseys to Lilian and the others already seated before taking a seat herself. She also doesn't introduce herself. She is pretty sure everyone here knows who she is. And she also orders a sampling from several (but not all) of the cultures represented. She is a lady after all, and must watch her figure. However, she does insist on the finest champaigne, and also insists her two 'ladies in waiting' seat themselves beside her. "It is good to see all of you again." she says amicably. Though a look toward Zenos might draw into question just how good it is to see him.
Doctor Strange	Doctor Stephen Strange stands in the study of the Sanctum Sanctorum, looking at his reflection in a magically-conjured mirror. Staring back at him is a man with graying temples and a finely trimmed goatee, wearing a cheap dress ensemble. And by cheap, I mean 'broke.' A sports jacket, a dress shirt, and slacks, each with obvious wrinkles where it appears to have been slept in. They were--these were among the clothes he brought with him in his last-ditch flight to kamar-Taj. There was a time when he wouldn't have even gotten out of bed, were these the only dress clothes he had. "Good enough." Times change.      Master Wong, poring over an enchanted scroll at the nearby writing desk, rolls his eyes. The master's work is interrupted once more by the sound of Strange's sling ring, sparking as it attempts to cut reality and open a portal for the sorcerer. It fails.      "C'mon," mutters Strange in annoyance, shaking the artifact as if trying to wring it into working.      "You might actually have to walk somewhere," says Wong. Strange frowns (more than usual) and gives Wong a decidedly non-mystic hand gesture, before creating a portal to the nearest warpgate and making his way to the rendezvous point that way.      Upon stepping through the magical barrier, the Sorcerer Supreme's annoyance fades slightly. "Okay," he says, nodding in appreciation of the work which must have been put into such a barrier. It's impressive--and it's being put to good use, if the size of the city is any indication. He starts to walk, only to be reminded of Wong's remark. In an effort to spite a man who isn't even present, the Sorcerer Supreme places the sling ring back on, and...      Steps out of a portal, and into the restaurant's second floor. "Okay," he says, nodding. His clothes... do /not/ recommend him to this place. Lilian didn't mean 'nice,' she meant nice. And with Gildamesh being here, it's just making him feel extra poorly dressed. The guy looks good in anything!      One hand makes a fluid, but rapid motion before him. His clothes are now the sort of clothes one wears to a restaurant like this. A matching, tailored suit and tie, in a daring, steely gray that complements his hair and his emerald eyes.      The sorcerer slides into the booth. "Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme." It's very possible Lilian saw the way he was dressed when he came in here, so that introduction might make him seem like some random crazy--if it weren't for stepping in through a portal. "Looking forward to working with you." He puts on a smile. When Spider-Man arrives, "Hey, speaking of new recruits, welcome aboard. I was... tied up with work, when you officially joined." He'll stand up and shake hands, if he can, before sitting back down.      "I want..." Strange frowns thoughtfully, stroking his goatee. "I want dim sum." A little bit of a lot of different stuff. Maybe it's a little late in the day for dim sum. He doesn't care. When he decides on a few dishes and sets down the menu, he spots another couple of familiar faces. Zenos, Sarra and Alexis receive polite nods, along with Gilgamesh. "Your majesty, your majesty, your majesty... Alexis."
Note	'Why oh why did I let anyone talk me into this' is the message plainly visible on Note's uncomfortably scrunched face as she arrives, keeping lockstep with the princess as requested despite her much shorter legs.     'Why' is perhaps a good question, as SOMEONE has somehow managed to stuff her into an overly formal, incredibly frilly and elaborate ballroom gown that's like a little cousin - in more ways than one - to Sarracenia's own. Of her original outfit, only the bright red ribbon tied into a perky little bow that binds her silky-sleek crop of black hair into a ponytail remains.     Once inside though, with hands that restlessly and uncertainly roam from lap to waist (she's REALLY having a hard time adapting to that skirt), she sticks out like a sore thumb as the wild kid out of her element. Staring at EVERYTHING. And EVERYONE. And, for the moment, strangely keeping her mouth shut.     Nevertheless, her tail continiues to swish about freely behind her as she follows along and finds a seat at the boot. Which... makes just show SHORT she is compared to everyone else even more apparent. For the youngling doesn't even come up to the TABLE properly... until, quite suddenly, she does, rocketing up a foot and a half so her head can fully clear the table. Anyone sitting NEXT to her can tell that she's hoisting herself up on her tail!     "My---" Her voice runs dry and hoarse with what's clearly, and STRANGELY, an almost shy awkwardness.     She is SO out of her element.     "My name is Note. Fourteen years old. Martial Artist of Kokkara Village!" After a moment her shoulders fall and she glances about nervously.     This atmosphere is just STIFLING from her perspective. And perhaps a bit terrifying. She keeps looking this way and that as if expecting something to stab her for daring to speak.
Tomoe	Tomoe wasn't poor but most of her money was tied up in Yamir stock, or in physical things, such has her adventuring gear and supplies. More formal clothing was not something she thought about too much. Thankfully Sarracenia had been willing to help, maybe to Sarra's surprise? Tomoe did have some jewellery which also adorned her today. Long almost clip like earing with small faintly glowing blew gems hanging from them were match with a silver pendant. The dress is perhaps the fanciest thing Tomoe has ever worn dress wise it's black and seems to match her well enough as she keeps pace with Sarracenia and Note. She seemed to be in good spirits too. She sees quite a few people she expected, but she didn't expect Gil to be here, but so far he's just ordering the best of everything. She'll grin as she sits and once that's done she'll speak up. "Good evening, this is a little bit bigger than I expected and thank you for the invitation here!" She seemd in good spiris but she only wondes what if the others from the GU saw her here, then again Alexis is here and it might just come out later given her Pokedex likely has a camera.
Lilian Rook	"Oh nonsense. Otherwise I'd have people staring. Probably listening, too." Lilian replies to Gawain, smiling for effect anyways (and it's quite an effect, given that she can spend two hours on appearance in the blink of an eye on top of already getting the good genes in the family). "You're quite the figure. As expected of a Knight of the Round Table. I always imagined a beard, for some reason, though."     Spidey showing up with the mask raises an eyebrow. "Formal superhero maskwear? Now that's a new one. I like the suit though~ And don't worry about it. Lilian is fine. Dame Commander is an official knighthood title. Both my parents are Grand Cross, so I was knighted once I passed the Immune exam." It's probably fairly clear that most of the people here are just really rich mundanes (or moderately rich ones that saved up), because anyone can tell by the fact that some of them turn heads at Gawain, all of them turn heads at Gilgamesh, and the ones who only do the latter are more affected by those who do the former. The staff takes his coat almost gratefully, and hurry off as soon as orders are placed.     "A lot more handsome than I expected without the helmet too, welcome, Legatus~" Lilian says, especially looking at his crest and livery. "And a lot more handsome than I could have possibly imagined, King Gilgamesh. I hope someone doesn't get the wrong idea. I'm suddenly surrounded with so many ten out of ten men." Half of them are jacked too. "Formal would have been at home." she says to Alexis. "Downtown is well enough. Glad to see you still alive and not covered in blood." Her eyes flit to the Vulpix. "Cute, but I hope it doesn't shed."     "Ah, and there are the rest of the girls." she says as Sarracenia, Tomoe, and Note arrive. "Now hopefully it looks more like a meeting or a mixer instead of half a dozen gorgeous men and a mysterious masked stranger all having the floor to ourselves." She's already seated, so she doesn't get up and curtsy back though. That'd be weird.     It's probably telling that the waiters don't even bat an eye at two people asking for 'whatever I can spend the most money on'. Both of them look like they could pick up the tab pretty easily, but clearly Lilian has come here a few times with the platinum black card that they know already anyways (these places always cater to the rich patrons on a memorized name basis, after all).     "I thought it was Italian?" Lilian remarks to Strange, smile initially a little strained given what he'd shown up in and how ostentatious the manner of 'showing up' was, thus drawing attention to it. "Try your best." she says to the staff, almost completely quiet through the whole thing.     It also might be telling that, still, Lilian isn't without one thing in particular. Despite the dress and the jewelry and the hair done up high with a celtic knot and curled sidelocks, the black and silver scabbard is propped up in the space next to her, long enough to rest her arm on if she felt like it (on the Gilgamesh side). She'd had it every other time she'd been around anyone else, but they'd all have conflicting and generic descriptions of it if they bothered to remember.     This time it's quite clearly the same for everyone, displaying a hilt and guard of some strangely polished and whorled black iron, inlaid with intricate scarlet vines and flowers, with folded 'petals' of metal overlapping the scabbard, at the base of the sheathed blade. Why she's allowed to carry a weapon like that into a restaurant is a good question, especially given the fact that whatever sealing is on its scabbard, it isn't able to completely mute the bloodthirsty aura on it.
Lilian Rook	"I'm glad I was able to get so many of you into one place~ Thank you for coming." she says when all the help has disappeared. Sliding the wine selection towards herself, she asks "Red? White? What vintage do you prefer? Also, ten, twenty, forty years? I can do whatever." That last part is a little weird. "Anything in triple digits though and I'll have to ask them for the special reserve."     Given a little pre-social and delivery of drinks, the wait for the courses is actually incredibly short; what should take a good forty five minutes is delivered in ten, with a procession of carts to load the massive table with two royal blonde's worth of 'everything' --more than they're possibly going to eat-- and the specifically requested ones as well. Also given the atmosphere of the place, it's unsurprising that it's very much top of top quality --the kind where the prices aren't even on the menu because if you needed to check dollars then you couldn't afford it anyways. French, Ukrainian, Italian, Russian, Swedish; the whole deal.     It may actually be a little offputting/exciting (depending on how adventurous one feels) that a portion of it clearly doesn't belong on Earth, though, having been very carefully prepared from the weird, alien-looking biome a few attendees had seen the edge of before. The queer 'fruits' and 'vegetables' and even tiny cuts of some kind of tender meat, are all either very dark, very pale, or some shade of either translucent or faintly *glowing*, but are actually amazing --difficult to describe or compare to other foods, as if hitting tastebuds one wasn't previously aware existed. No doubt they are also probably lethally poisonous if not prepared by experts.     Lilian opens up an AR menu hands-free, from what appears to be a discrete band integrated into a fancy choker with an emissive diode in it, going through some manner of files or another, invisible looking from the reverse side. "Since some of you weren't around back then: I may have let a few of you run wild with a small band of the Antegent the other day to save myself a little time. I'm sure you enjoyed it, but I may have also gotten in a teensy bit of trouble for dropping *technically* unqualified personnel just outside the zone like that unattended."     "What I'd like to eventually get to today, is whether any of you are so interested in what's going on out there --outside the City-- that you'd agree to pick up a license. I'll be really transparent: there are those eager to see you do so out of academic curiosity as well, rather than just professional stuffiness, and giving them an opportunity to, well--" she just kind of gestures at Gawain, Gilgamesh, et all. "--would get me some strings to pull for you later. I'm taking any questions." she finishes, before pouring herself some red, putting her finger on the edge of the glass, and creating a fingertip-sized glyph of gold with twice bisecting hands that spin round and around with a sand-like hiss.     Yeah, she also has a lot of general magic/mystical energy on her. Like, not 'a talented mage' amount, but like an actually really incongruous amount. The 'Belongs on the Other Side of the World' kind, rather than the typical human kind.
Alexis	Alexis gives a nod in Strange's direction as she's actually mentioned despite the contrast to all the 'royalty' in that greeting. "Doctor." Being surrounded by all these good looking men and at least one masked one doesn't appear to concern her much.     The Vulpix gives Strange what could be an 'I remember you' look, but it's hardly the first time Alexis has palled around with people she'd fought at another time, so that's the most the little kitsune does.     Tomoe is probably safe. Sure her electronics have cameras and such, but Alexis would have to oust herself at being at such a fancy shindig herself, and the tomboy probably doesn't want to do that to her own reputation. "Thanks. And thanks for the invite," Alexis replies as she turns her attention back to Lilian, and reachs one hand up to scritch under the fox's chin. "Don't worry, she's very well behaved." Which is why she gets the honor of shoulder guard, instead of one of her more... fiesty fire pokemon. "What kind of license are we talking about?" Her curiosity is perked, to say the least. Not that some sort of legal requirment to do anything would be new to a pokemon trainer.     In between the questions she does get to flagging down a server. "Got anything local that's a bit on the spicy side?" Cuisine is just one way of learning more about a new location after all, she'd be amiss to not take advantage of it.
Gilgamesh	Gilgamesh just sort of holds up his glass to acknowledge Strange. The food comes, and he eats...not like a glutton in the slightest. In fact it's almost a crime how little he eats - he's sampling dishes, tasting them, experimenting, then leaving them alone to taste something better. There's an air of overwhelming refinement to match his air of overwhelming beauty and overwhelming power that just sort of completes that notion that he always talks about: he wasn't crowned king, he isn't /a/ king. 'Gilgamesh' and 'King' are synonyms, not things that can be separated.      It's just not usually as apparent because he acts like such an asshole.      The King stops sampling as he's directly addressed. He smirks. "That you expected anything else amuses me."      He stretches his other arm out and leans back into the booth, crossing his legs. The feeling that he reclines this way on thrones is unmistakable; for a brief instant, even the part of the booth he's in seems like it's something imperial, regal, *royal*. "I suppose I'm at least intrigued. Any world able to show me proper obeisance is worth more of my time than the usual run-of-the-mill worthlessness of this wretched era, even without the nostalgic taste in the air or the beautiful woman offering."      The King swirls the water in his glass idly. He's just punctuating his statement with it.
Spider-Man	"Oh, yeah, that's way easier." Spider-Man says, nodding a few times to Lilian and shifting his goggle-lenses somehow to a more relaxed configuration. He also notes Doctor Strange! "Oh, hey Doc! It's fine, don't worry. Mister Stark actually invited me! It was so cool. I hope whatever mmmmmagic? Things you were doing turned out okay." He says, brightly.     He answers the most pertinent question, "Uh, water?" He's fifteen years old! "Aren't you...?" He starts, squinting at Lilian before deciding the question is a little too awkward to ask. He waits for the other, more Spider-Relevant question, and gives it a full ponder. "Wow, huh... This is about those monsters you put out data for. So, it's a license to hunt the monsters? I'm not very good at killing, even monsters. You know, I bet I could help capture them, though. You study these things, right?"     When he drinks and eats, it's by slipping the mask up his face juuust over the nose. "Because -- mmph, this is delicious -- I could probably help out. Some way, I guess. Sorry, didn't clear up, I can't do spider venom, that's the spider-thing I can't do. Actually, I don't know for sure, I haven't bitten anyone, but-- You know what I mean. I'll be great at all the parts but the killing part! Yeah, point me at some Antegent."
Zenos yae Galvus	"Thank you, you are too kind," Zenos says, almost automatically. "Red, fourty. I do not have high hopes for it, but alas, I am spoiled on actually having Dalmascian Red as a younger man. I have not found a wine that has compared to it sense," he says, calmly. He holds a conversation with Lilian, but it almost sounds like a challenge...and Zenos loves challenges.     As people flood in, he takes an apprising look at each one, now having a chance to measure people up more directly. Gilgamesh catches his attention first, he can feel the power of the man, something that makes him want to get the man better. However, that can wait...that can wait.     To the Knight of the Round, he nods simply, respectful but not in deference to. To him he is as notable as to any other knight. He does not consider the Princess when she gives him a stare, rather turning to give a glance to Note. He looks amused, but not unsympathetic, "It grows on you, but do not fall to the life of such comforts, it ill suits you." He says, perhaps a bit less apathetic than he normally would sound.     To Dr. Strange, he gives a nod, "Doctor, good of you to join us."     As dinner arrives, he takes small bites from each set of dish presented to him. He drinks the wine, calmly, taking measured sips to get it's flavor, before continuing on with his meal. The man also seems less put off by the 'weird' appearances of some of the food...Hydelynn was known for it's...odd animals to say the least. He does not shy for trying everything, going back to food that he finds more palipable than the rest. However, the man seems to have a fondness for Russian and Ukrainian dishes than the others. The French one comes second after that, and the Swedish following that. The Italian dish does not gain his attention at all, left mostly ignored after it's initial bites.     "Yes, lets start by asking the question that is on everyone's mind...or at least, almost everyone's mind. What is going on with the world outside of the cities, why does it act like this, what is your organization about, and can someone tell me the names of some of these dishes."
Tomoe	This is the sort of place Tomoe normally would not get into and she intends to enjoy it as much as she can. She won't go crazy on how much she orders but she will be aiming to enjoy herself. She will get a menu and place an order fairly fast she'll go for a French wine she was curious about. As for the food, she's going to go on a bit of a Euro tour when it comes to the food though she does get some of the stranger things. Once the food order is handled she'll turn her attention to Lilian and listen to what she has to say. "I'm a pretty experienced hunter and haven't seen much quite like that. As for being interested in hunting more of those things outside? I have no issue in getting a licence to continue to do so. Given what I experienced there I see the need for such." If one pays a little attention to Tomoe as Gil talks about the modern world her heckles rise for a moment but she clamps down on it and tries to enjoy the food. "This food is amazing." She notes as she eats it, for once not digging into her food like she was some kind of girl raised in a barn. She also takes note of Doctor Strange and Zenos as well. "Also is there a source to these things and a way we might be able to stem the tide, or is it like the newer problems on my world where they are functionally limitless in number?"
Sarracenia	Sarracenia actually smiles to Strange as he greets her and giggles a bit at the trio of royal greetings ending with just Alexis's name. "I hope you are..." She blinks as she looks at the Doctor's clothes. "...well." she finishes, sounding like she thinks he must not be. "Um...if you need a tailor, I keep the best in my kingdom on retainer."      She looks to Gilgamesh after that. "King Gilgamesh! So good to see you again." she says...only to look a bit jealous as he calls Lilian beautiful. She sips of her champagne while a slight glare is leveled at Lilian. But that is forgotten as Note wiggles and squirms and finally lifts herself up on her tail. "...Note, dear. Please try to keep still. And hold your hands in your lap unless you are eating or drinking." she says quietly, not wanting to embarrass the poor girl further. Dressing up in pretty things is supposed to be fun!      She nods in agreement with many here at the question of the license. "I am not sure why one would need a license to fight monsters, but if it is necessary I will not argue. If we need a piece of paper in order to protect people, so be it." She does not sound as though she really cares for this, though.      Sarracenia treats her food much like Gilgamesh even though she ordered quite a bit less. A bite or two of each one before it is set aside. Alexis's comment on the radio draws a scowl from Sarracenia. "Well, at least Note -tried- to dress properly."
Note	Everyone's ordering such fancy stuff that she doesn't know anything about! Note casts a hopeless look at the only person here who she has any connection with - Sarracenia, it would seem - and when the waiter's asking her... "I'm in the mood for meat! A whole platter of it. Juicy, tender meat!" It's said with the kinda forcefulness that you only get out of kids... or maybe childish adults. But the prospect of food is the only thing cheering her up on this outing.     It's not what she expected, after all, of Lilian's earlier offer.     Taking a glance at Zenos, she grins rather uneasily at him. "Can say that again," is muttered back.     Heeding the words of Sarracenia, Note does try to relax. Her shoulders loosen up a bit as she glances around the table...     Her gaze lingers most on Spider-Man and Gilgamesh, for whatever odd reasons. But instead of speaking up about whatever's on her mind as she looks over Spider-Man... she hears the words 'get a license' and immediately looks over towards Lillian.     "License? What kinda license? Something that you don't have to be sixteen or eighteen or whatever for, I hope!"
Gawain	Gawain makes a gesture that's understanding of what Lilian's saying, as he nods to her. With wine, he considers, briefly. "I am not familiar with much about wine, despite my noble upbringing - even if I knew vintages, I wouldn't be able to compare to the modern ones. However, I do prefer red, and any age is acceptable." When the food arrives, Gawain thanks the staff and the host for the meal, and then begins cutting into his steak to try it. It's exciting, for him, as he takes a bite of a tender medium-rare steak that's probably one of the best he's ever had. When wine is shared, he takes a sip, and doesn't seem to be much of an expert, just drinking it normally. "Ah, yes, I read your primers. They seem like quite dangerous stuff! I would be most willing to get a license to aid you. My main question is if these antegent are nocturnal, or do they attack at any point? I ask because my specialties are fighting in the sunlight, and so if they fight out in the open, I should be quite able to engage them." A license isn't weird to Gawain - he's a Warden, he understands the importance of paperwork and people who are responsible. "The food is quite amazing. I hope everyone else is enjoying their meals, as well!" Gawain says to the others, trying to be a little social while they ask questions. It never hurts to be friendly.
Doctor Strange	It's true--Strange did mention Italian earlier. Rather, he was heard mentioning it earlier. Technically, he hasn't mentioned it yet. "It will be." He shrugs. "And then it won't." When the dim sum arrives, a flick of his wrist summons a pair of fine porcelain chopsticks into his hand. They hover eagerly over several of the offerings he's been brought. His hand trembles noticeably, and is covered in a patchwork of scar tissue. It takes him a moment to grab a dumpling.      There's a lot of magic here--the overpowering radiance of a sun knight and a king, the dome which surrounds the city. Of particular interest to him is Lilian's apparent collection of artifacts. "I read your files," says the sorcerer. The pork dumpling shakes in his grasp as he lifts it to his mouth. Once he's finished with it, he continues. "So, I'll probably shoot for a license. Indulge me, though." He reaches for a turnip cake. "The things outside this dome--you had to find magic from other dimensions to fight them, I'm guessing?" His emerald eyes flick briefly towards the sword she's brought with her.      He didn't order a drink. Despite that, he clearly has one. It's tea, of course. Drinking wine with dim sum would just look tacky. "You wouldn't believe how magic it was," says Strange to Spider-Man. He doesn't say anything for a moment, then adds, "Unfortunately, it was... equal parts lame." His trembling grip causes the utensils to dig through the turnip cake, splitting it in two halves that fall to his plate. He doesn't seem frustrated, however. It flies backwards in defiance of gravity, both halves forming a complete whole, resting once more between the chopsticks. Strange eats the turnip cake.      "Hey, hey, Lord Zenos. That was... good work, back in the whole sword... debacle." The sorcerer gestures vaguely, and puts on another smile. No reason for him not to be pleasant to a co-worker!      "I'll think about it," says Strange to Sarracenia. He does, to his credit, sound like he means it. "I don't really... have any dress clothes anymore. It's a whole... thing." Strange shakes his head dismissively. The sorcerer lifts his tea and takes a chaste sip of it.
Lilian Rook	They're in Britain, and so of course 'local and spicy' means curry, because that's just how the UK is. Alexis gets a plate that contains essentially three discrete 'areas' of curry, even, one with just a bit of kick, one quite spicy, and one that's just pure masochism. Lilian folds her hands together. "This is the United Kingdom. What don't you need a license for?" she then asks, as rhetorically as it is dry.     "I'm afraid we'd have to go to a different part of that, O King." she says to Gilgamesh, in far too impressively perfect a tone to distinguish between whether she meant somewhere magically potent or somewhere to pick up beautiful women. "That is actually a side manner I'd meant to ask about though. You had some kind of . . . interaction, with the Spirit-class the other day. I'm curious to know what it was like." A beat. "And if I may ask, what exactly do you find wrong with . . . well, you understand I haven't been to any other Earths yet, so I'm slightly uninformed as to their individual issues."     "Spider-Man--" Lilian says with just a little awkwardness on the cape name "--is more or less correct. It's a little more complex than that. Normally, not even the government particularly likes letting people wander around at random outside of city limits, here or anywhere else in the world. Part of it's just because it's begging to get killed, part of it is that they want to keep close tabs as possible on where important people are going and what they're doing, and part of it is just the risk of tripping over some magical disaster or accidentally bringing something back with you. The easiest way to leave is to get clearance that states you more or less won't be coming back, and all."     "It's different for you, since you're not actually around here, but agreeing to have a few qualifications tested makes for a much easier time in general --getting around, doing things, going through higher and better channels, rights to what you find, being somewhere on the social ladder in the Phantom Circle by proxy so they don't get in your way, et cetera. Hunting, capture, surveying, salvage, gathering, documenting new locus points or nowhere roads, checking out ruins or recovering things that the secret societies had to leave behind in the chaos forty five years ago; there's a lot that can be done."     When Zenos asks for a 40 year vintage, Lilian just . . . grabs a bottle and does the same thing, the little gold light making that sand on glass sound, and then hands it over. It is, indeed, now aged to forty years. Normally you're supposed to do that in caskets, but the taste checks out, somehow(?). It's good stuff too, earthy and slightly spiced. She seems to settle on twenty five for Gawain, according to her. Given how frugal people are being with actually eating the obscene amount of food they did, for once, Note probably won't go hungry. There's a whole table for twelve to clear.     When people begin asking all the big questions, Lilian takes a deep breath, lays out her files, and gets into it. "Those are some complicated questions, but I'll try to summarize the relevant points as thoroughly as possible. A little less than fifty years ago, nothing particularly special. Some wars. Approaching peak oil crisis. Climate change issues. The usual kind of things. All of the old lineages were still in a state of masquerade --that is, the unenlightened masses actively disbelieved they existed. Druids of the isles, clans of the old Onmyo visionaries, the secret monasteries, the Unseen knightly orders, your magic families, your deep state circles, your disciples of the Old Gods, descendents of the first nine cities, your mixed bloods, either in complete seclusion or effectively pulling the strings in the way that best insulated or served them. You know. 'Pay no mind to the weather balloons and swamp gas' kind of stuff."
Lilian Rook	"Forty five years back, the Onslaught happened. People just call it that. Nobody appends -war to it, because it wasn't. Too many things from too many places, too far back in history or from too far away in the universe happened all at once --like all of it. All of it wanted humans, as a whole, dead. We still don't really know why. Maybe somebody was about to do something they really shouldn't have. Maybe some event or another declared war on the rest of the universe. Maybe we somehow threatened their survival. None of them have told us."     "The Onslaught refers to a fifteen year period of anything and everything going wrong, and a lot of people dying every single day. Appearing all over the globe, spreading out from there, leveling or forcing whole evacuation of human population centers, cutting off travel, warping the terrain and the biosphere to be like wherever they came from, screwing with the laws of magic, eating people, mind controlling people, subverting technology, worse. Pretty much none of the world was ready to deal with it and most people died. Eight billion at the start, a hundred and fifty million by the end. It was so bad, and common people were so overwhelmingly helpless, that every old lineage on the board had to break masquerade and take over. Piece it together on the fly. Make contact. Organize. Militarize for real. Study the enemy and kill them. The historians are still digging up new things and trying to piece it all together; understandably not a lot of people were writing books back then."     "Eventually it just came down to the fact that we finally killed more of them than they killed us. The Onslaught broke, their numbers slowly dwindled, they retreated away from the last big fortified population centers we'd concentrated all our power into, and now they're just kind of . . . out there. As is everything else."     "The remaining cities are where everyone has been staying for the past thirty years while civilization bounces back. Occasionally we dig up things from the Onslaught or the old world, expand and build a little, go hunting around for something important, intercept something big and bloodthirsty on the way to a city or settlement, torch and burn the other biomes to a manageable size and defuse the particularly weird snarls of mystical activity out there. Life goes on."     "Since everyone knows that the enlightened world --that is, people who have some talent for magic, mixed heritage, mystical training, or access to forbidden knowledge, holy relics, or non-human technology-- exists though, the result is that we're borderline all one nation by now after being pushed together by that disaster. That's where the Phantom Circle name comes from. It's a bit melodramatic though; you don't really have to pull strings from the shadows when everyone knows that you're absolutely crucial to them waking up the next morning instead of being murdered in a nightmare and so your heart stops in real life, or something. By the way, don't look at the full moon outside of City wards."     "The plus side, I guess, is that it sure solved a lot of resource, war, terrorism, climate problems --honestly, name it. Since all the cities have to be pretty much self-sufficient, we finally left behind coal and oil and field agriculture and that trash in the past too. Every so often, people decide they don't like living somewhere that an enlightened family or sect or bureau has a prime hand in, and decide they'd rather live outside. We do our best to lend a hand, but you understand those settlements don't tend to last long."
Lilian Rook	"The Antegent --the name stuck from a portmanteau of antigen, exigent, and Latin ante, some clever guy came up with-- as far as we know, either can't reproduce here, reproduce so slowly it doesn't matter much, are one-offs that slowly happened over time for aeons, came from somewhere else that is now cut off, or the rest of them don't want to try again so soon, beaten and bloody as we still technically are. With three hundred million documented spread across the entire globe, there hasn't really been a need to push a 'reclamation of civilization' or anything like that. Most of it is wrecked or perverted or . . . weird, by now, and we don't quite need the space yet, so we've been raising our strength back up, training replacements, refining new methods and spells and arts --you know, focusing on keeping things under control and getting stronger."     "The *particular* organization I belong to is one of a ton in the Phantom Circle, descended from the front-line orders of the Onslaught. Got the name 'Immunes' for being largely immune to the whammy that kept murdering thousands of people at a time. Sadly, you either grew up somewhere where you learned to deal with reading the necronomicon --which is still fake, by the way-- or you went to high school prom. It's a sort of fighting order. Antegent combat, crisis response, expedition forces, military police, general emergency personnel. The standards to entry are *very* high, and they don't mess about when it comes to rules."     "The number of ready Immunes out there is a bit of a cap on the populace. The Antegent occasionally test the waters, and they tend to know when somewhere is weak or poorly guarded. They also just cause enough problems in general that a good portion are out of a city at any given time, not to mention what the other sects want to get out of highly trained enlightened muscle and talent. It's kind of bad if some random goes out for a stroll in the countryside and comes back carrying a cognitohazardous parasite that he spreads to a thousand other people who all have to be sterilized, so trafficking affected areas, and especially with exotic items or making contact with Antegent, is something they try to control and keep an eye on."     She distributes the primer files as Gawain brings them up. "I'm afraid there's no much to generalize about them except this. Direct, credible attacks on major population centers aren't an everyday affair, but we don't have a clear picture of what they're 'up to' in general. Additional perspectives and powers that don't exist here could help us a lot." When Strange looks to the sword though, Lilian's eyes clearly light up a little. "Oh no, that one's from here on Earth. Ninth century. Passed down through my family for ages. It's mine now --everyone says it suits me best. Way back when, it went by the name Dubh-Ceothan Marfach, when ancestor Aodhan made it, 'Killer in the Night Mist' then, just Night Mist now. There's a lovely story behind it~"     "Anyways! Licensing is fairly simple! The . . . oh I'll just use the non-stupid latin name. The bureau of enlightened evaluation checks you out with a bunch of tests we've standardized since the Onslaught. Physical aptitude, cognitive discipline, raw mystical power, fine control, and pertinent 'alignments'. It takes a couple of hours, gets crunched in the database, and you get credentials that open up a lot of opportunities for you. Right to entry and to do business in the City Waking is one. Expedition is another. Right to keep certain quantities of what you find or what you kill. Right to not get walled out if something especially scary comes along. Commissions, too. Requisitioning and having your needs seen to as well. It qualifies you with a certain level of 'we expect you're capable of handling yourselves and protecting others' instead of 'we expect you to get eaten or your brain to melt'. I have something with me that can do *preliminary* measurements, but it's not great, and doesn't count officially."
Gilgamesh	Gilgamesh laughs at that. "What do I find wrong? Everything. Wretched people living wretched and meaningless lives depress and disgust me. Wretched things without any mastery over themselves, unwilling to rise up because there are a million others just like them who might rise up first. Humankind has become worthless crabs dragging each other down out of petty jealousy and pointless apathy, and I despise it to the core."      The king reclines. "It was a beast that knew me. That was right and proper. Knowing me, it was afraid of me, so it attacked me. I drew one of my treasures from the Gate of Babylon to part its attack. If I wasn't so drained I would have simply smashed through it, but..."      The King looks up. It might be to hide a blush. "Other business exhausted me first."
Zenos yae Galvus	Zenos reads over the information, taking the primer. His eyes move fairly quickly, and does not skip a beat with his meal. He is eating rather well, but he is a large man, and seems to be attempting to enjoy himself, while also seeing to buisness. He drinks in the information readily enough, making sure to understand what the deal was with these creatures, as it was understood, and their various levels of threats. He turns his head to listen carefully to Lilian, a thoughtful look, the bored look leaving his features as he simply takes it all in. Finally, when the explanation comes to an end, he is quiet for a few moments, taking in the information and organizing it carefully in his head.     To Gilgamesh he nods once, "Yes, too often they roam around like beasts, claiming to fight for some goal if they can be bothered to rise up from the dirt at all. Claiming on one hand to want to be free from oppression, but in the other cling to their faith and gods to ensnare them in endless cycles," Zenos says, calmly and to the point. "Still, perhaps they can be poked to work in the right ways...who can say."     "So, liscensing to see how we work, what threats that we are capable of facing. Very well, I will get involved in this...it sounds like something to pass the time. If you are so inclined, I can also spare a detatchment," he comments, "Details can be gone over in less public company."
Alexis	Alexis wasn't sure how far the analog went, but this certainly confirms it. But curry is perfectly fine... Though the 'masochism' one she sets on the seat beside her, so her Vulpix doesn't have to be on the table to enjoy it. But we'll leave that one to the pokemon that's not going to burn herself, and Alexis contently takes the other two.     She does flash a faint smirk at Sarracenia first. "It ain't for lack of trying, princess. I just don't care for looking like someone I'm not, all fancied up just for a public showing." With that being that, she settles back in to listen to the other questions, and those being answered as well as her own.     "Not entirely different from being licensed as a Trainer, then," she muses at the summary of what the regulation is for. "I mean, sure, everyone sees the cute battle critters." A briefl "Vulll" between mouthfuls of curry comes from the chair next to her, if to help make her point or just responding to 'cute' is up to debate. "But a lot of folks don't realize the dangerous sort of places we've gotta go through. Especially when one of the criminal ops are getting up to shit." She can sympathize with Spider-Man's 'not killing' attitude. Most of the time she'd agree with it... But she's been around enough to accept that sometimes the other options... don't work. There was no reasoning with those -things- they dealt with last time, and that was bottom of the food chain in comparison to the Messenger-type.     .... Wow, sounds like this world had eons of Illuminauti Freemason Atlantian hidden society craziness going on that had to stop being dicks to each other to deal with the entropic elderitch necronomicron nonecludian madness invasion. Which for a normal person would be practically screaming 'go away and don't look back' in the rear of their mind.     .... Alexis was never very good at listening to that voice. It took the excitement out of everything.     Alexis finishes up part of her curry. It's some of the best curry she's had, this place is definately up to snuff, but she's not letting it distract her too much from the matter at hand. "Okay, sign me up. They may be bizarre otherworldly abominations but monsters are monsters, and that's my jam." Alexis pauses to make sure she's cleaned the bowl before going for the other. "I'd like a copy of that primer too."
Lilian Rook	Lilian snaps her fingers. "Atlantis. I knew I'd forgotten one that you'd recognize." she says. "You're not wrong though. The files are yours." she says with a swipe of two fingers over a hovering display. "I'll need your contact information, though. Something easy to reach you by." To Gilgamesh, she says "Well, that sounds depressing. The people part, that is. I wasn't around back when things were, quote unquote, 'normal', but I don't think it's quite like that now. Mostly. Some people will just be people. Survival sometimes selects for those who are the most self-interested and averse to harship. The expert cowards."     "The other part is interesting though. *Very* interesting. You're saying it was genuinely familiar with Gilgamesh --the king, demigod, historical figure?" To Zenos. "Some gods are more or less real than others. Some helped. Most didn't."
Zenos yae Galvus	"Gods walk among mortals when they are summoned in my world. Summoned with crystals, gored with prayer...and temper their worshipers and make sure that they are always brought back...unless killed. The gods can be killed, but as long as it has the conditions for bringing it back...they rise again." Zenos says, towards Lilian.     He touches one his gauntlets, and uses a orb that appears to type something. With a swipe, he sends a message to Lilian with his information.
Spider-Man	"Call me Spidey if you want!" Spider-Man says, easing Lilian's difficulties around the name. "What kind of qualifications should we work on? I bet I can study up on the data. Are magical artifacts color-coded the way animals are, so that you know the bright colored ones are super poisonous and bad to bring back? Or stuff like that? I can study up and go after a test to deal with monsters. Oooh, and ruins! I'm great at moving around, and wallcrawling, and things like that." He seems eager to dive in.     He sort of works his hand around and over his jaw. "Okay. So... Hmmm. Alright, so the Onslaught happened. Then, if I kinda parallel old population wipeout disasters and the Industrial Revolution healthcare approaches, you're due for..." He counts on fingers. "Thirty-ish years before populations start..." He nods urgently. "Okay! So you're on track for needing to solve a lot of Antegent problems, but not having people yelling about them right now. Am I right?" He points both fingers at Lilian hopefully.     "Okay, so I don't need to /study/ so much as just kind of innately be okay at it. Well I innately hope I'm okay at it! I'll definitely give it a shot. If I'm thinking right, it's a sort of a long-term sustainability thing? I definitely want to try to make sure your world gets what it needs for a sustainable ecosystem and life for people." Spider-Man's angle of altruism seems quite focused on Big Picture Heroism in some strange way that sounds /really goddamn weird/ from the mouth of a fifteen-year-old.
Gawain	Gawain is having an enjoyable time, as he listens over, sips at his wine, and rereads the primer information. The name of Lilian's sword gets a nod, as it's clearly some sort of dangerous artifact weapon. Moving to eat some of his pasta and more of his steak, Gawain remains silent for the main time, glancing shortly but politely at Alexis feeding her Vulpix on the seats which is kinda weird, but Gawain's also weird so he doesn't actually really care. "Well! I assume they'll be interested in something like myself, due to my nature as a Heroic Spirit and my magical shell, even if I'm not the most special. What is the City Waking? Is it a hub for the 'enlightened', of sorts?" And then there's a glance to Spider-Man. "Well, Spider-Man! If you're so interested, I'd be willing to learn alongside you. I've heard of your work, and seen your tweets!" Gawain mildly seems to be a fan, and willing to befriend the new Paladin, especially if they're going to work together for crime-fighting and Antegent hunting.
Sarracenia	Sarracenia actually looks a bit concerned for Doctor Strange, which might seems strange to him after their last interaction. "...If you need help of some kind, I hope you will ask." she offers with a small, almost gentle smile. That is all she says, again not wanting to embarrass anyone during what is basically a diplomatic dinner.      Alexis gets a smirk in return from the princess. "I suppose it is pointless." she says, then smiles. "But, how do you know it is not you until you try it?"      The mention of mental aptitude makes Sarracenia wince slightly as she remembers her encounter with the Messenger-class. "I suppose having proof that I am amazing would be helpful." she says. She blinks at the warning about the moon. "That is rather unfortunate. Looking at the moon is quite relaxing, and a moonlit night is the most romantic on other worlds. I suppose on this one it is a reminder that you could die at any moment." She shakes her head.
Note	That is an awful LOT of information for Note to digest. She's quiet through the explanation though, and attentively listening with her eyes glued to Lilian through it all...     "Do you have full moon monsters too then?" She asks. "I heard that there's one of those in the area I'm from... they say it likes kids with tails like me most of all. Never seen the thing... I've always had to stay in the basement. Never even seen a full moon, come to think of it. Just pictures."     Finally she seems to be relaxing properly into the atmosphere. She grabs the papers on offering, but is gonna definitely need time to look over those!     The gravity of what's on offer sets in then... "Sooooo... lemme see if I understand this right. You want strong people to beat back these monsters for everyone's sake, and not be jerks about it, and there's plenty of food and training resources waiting after an outing? If so, lemme at it!"     Of course she hasn't been IDLE through all of that listening. She has, in fact, been eating. And her table manners aren't atrocious either. But the fact of the matter is that she seems to be a BLACK HOLE who just keeps stuffing anything and everything set before into her mouth and gulping it down. If left to her own devices and given a further supply, this could easily reach five or six plates with no signs of stopping. She might well easily devour more here than her own body mass, SOMEHOW...
Alexis	Alexis pushes the right sleeve of her jacket up just far enough to tap the smartwatch-like device on her wrist. Once the XTranciever mode fires up it syncs to Lilian's signal, allowing Alexis to send her contact info. "Done and done." The C-Gear might not be the most elaborate piece of technology in the room but it was still a level of personal electronics some worlds were only now catching up to, and certainly made it easy to get a hold of her no matter where she wandered. A second smaller screen pops out the side to display a transfer note for the primer. She can transfer it to a larger device more suitable for reading wheren she gets back to the ranch.     To reply to Sarracenia she just makes a face. "I've had to deal with enough 'fancy' events to know."     And there Note goes. The place won't have to worry about leftovers at least. "Welp, not that there was any doubt of her Sayain-hood, but if there had been, it'd be gone now," she remarks with a laugh. "Good thing I don't have my Snorlax with or you'd possibly have compatition for appetite."
Tomoe	Tomoe does seem to understand about things being complicated when are things not when dealing with something like this. It's a grim tale but informative of the current situation of the world. Still, they survived through it and it sounds like there is a hope to drive them off them off the planet someday too. Tomoe continues to listen to Lilian she talks about people wanting to leave. she takes note of that for later. "It just takes one day where they get jumped and no one happens to be close enough to respond to the attack. That's what would have happened if we hadn't been close enough to respond to that attack." Now comes why someone needs to be Linc3ned and she listens intently here. "Ya that would be a problem, wouldn't it?" Okay so beware of loot and it sounds like she's got some more to learn then the licensing process is explained and she thinks for a moment. "I see the logic in such a system. The powers that be know what sort of people they have access to, it also screens out people who'd just end up as dead meat in all likelihood too. I'd be more than happy to comply with this. I'd also like a primer as well if you have one to spare." She goes back to her food for the moment seemingly enjoying it, yet after a moment she looks to Gil and Zenos. "We can be roused, it has happened before from the carnage of the world wars to our efforts to explore space." She also looks over to Spider-Man for a moment nodding. "I think I see where your going with that." The look on her face though seems she's a bit peering at Spider-Man as how he worded it sounds odd like it just came out the mouth of a fifteen-year-old's mouth.
Lilian Rook	"I'd be glad to have you~ We all would." Lilian says to Gawain. "Obviously, you're a little famous at least in this country. You're correct in that assumption. The City Waking is the specific city owned entirely by the Phantom Circle. It's a place where everyone is guaranteed to be able to handle what goes on, and so the ideal place to . . . cut loose, I suppose? To do enlightened things."     She can't help but grin a little bit at Note's take on it after boiling it down. "Good enough. There are all types of monsters, but outside of a city, staring at the full moon tends to drive you completely mad. Supposedly, that's how it used to be. That's where the word 'lunacy' comes from, you know?" She keeps watching Note eat with some measure of incredulity. "I suppose this is money efficiently spent."
Doctor Strange	Strange nods along with resignation at 'oil crisis' and 'wars.' His nodding takes a more 'yeah, of course' tone when she mentions various magical traditions and state conspiracies hiding in plain sight. "I'm waiting for 'weather balloons filled with swamp gas.' Poke a hole in it, and then there's a gas leak on top of the other two things." He makes a 'thoughtful' expression.      His expression changes to a sympathetic form of 'been there, done that' when Lilian begins describing magical invaders seeking to forcibly terraform the planet. The outcome of those attempts visibly interests him. His brow furrows, his thumb and forefinger stroking at his goatee. If what she's saying is true... could there be some value in a significantly powerful threat, and its ability to unify people for a common cause? His pensive frown deepens. Or are they just incredibly lucky?      Strange banishes that line of thought. Best not to dwell on that now. It's Lilian's response to the question of gods that draws him back into the conversation. He waits for Gildamesh to finish speaking his mind, then speaks up. "Yeah... fighting guys from other dimensions... definitely in my wheelhouse. I'm in. I'll take the assessments--as long as they're not too nosy." Some things are best left hidden. He falls silent, then, until Sarracenia makes her offer of help.      "Thank you," he says to Sarracenia, nodding. "I will." He sounds like he means it, and he bothers making eye contact for a brief moment. He's more or less done with his food, and there are a few little dishes left. A steamed bun here, a dumpling there. Strange pushes them towards Note. Rather, the table seems to slide them over of its own accord.      It's well that he's finished. There are other things which he must attend to. "I'll be in touch." He gets out of the booth, making a mystic gesture. His fingers mimic an eye opening, and a green light glows from a spot just below the knot of his illusory tie. The sorcerer vanishes in a flash of green light. It might be a particularly familiar kind of magic, for Lilian.      Strange appears in the Sanctum, standing a few feet away from his past self, and from Master Wong, hard at work on an enchanted scroll. "Italian," he calls out to the past Strange. It's not actually what he ends up doing--but at least it gets his mind off of his recent paranoia. It'll get him out of the Sanctum, at least.