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Timekeeper     This time, the gathering location Vertin requests people's presence at is a familiar one. The Sotheby estate is much calmer now, after your efforts to subdue and distract the riot that nearly spilled over their gates, but even as successful as your efforts were, it didn't escape unchanged. Foundation guards, wearing their white face-concealing masks and surreptitiously hiding achronological walkie-talkies, are scattered around the vicinity, and Vertin's Watch cell still reports anti-arcanist activity all across the city.

    Still, there's no emergency forcing the Foundation-affiliate presence at the Sotheby's today. Instead, the plan is to advance a lead and discuss next steps, making contact with the field agent already stationed in the manor.

    It's much easier to get transport to the manor this time too, given the increased Foundation presence here now that the threat isn't just word of mouth. Disembarking from the grey and white checkered vehicles at the apex of (one of) the driveways, a full half-kilometer from the entrygate, puts Vertin, Sonetto, Regulus, and those accompanying them a short distance away from the main household, besides a large unicorn statue in the estate gardens. Vertin smoothes out the tail of her jacket after it got scrunched up from the ride, and then addresses the Elites.

    "Thank you, all. As for our goals today, there's a very particular reason I've chosen the Sotheby manor as our destination, and it's not only for Ms. Moissan." Beginning to walk and lead the way, Vertin veers away from the entrance of the house to skirt the edges and trek deeper into the property.

    Briefly refreshing, "Thanks to some informants, we now know both the location and the operations of the Manus hideout in Chicago. The Walden bar, owned by an arcanist named Forget Me Not, that skirts the present laws of the Prohibition by means of a potion. Ordinarily, it'd be possible for the Foundation to make a request to the local government to investigate on grounds of suspicious arcane activity, but we're also quite aware that the Manus have a hold on the Chicago government and police force, and it appears inevitable that a formal request would make its way back to the Manus before we're able to step foot inside the building."

    They withdraw from the interior of the jacket a dark green glass bottle, embossed with an elaborate weeping flower insignia and filled with a clear liquid. "This here is one of the potions they serve, created by Forget Me Not as a replacement for alcohol. With the assistance of an arcanist talented in potions, I hope to get an idea of the workings of his arcane skill." An arcanist talented in potions, as opposed to Regulus! Who's surely talented in other things.

    Sonetto pipes up, sticking close to Vertin's side, "Agent Moissan is an execeptionally skilled special operations field agent implanted with the family at the beginning of this era. She is not an 'irrelevant person' from this era, and is well-informed on both the Storm and the Manus Vindictae. ... We have met on occasion, but I have not worked with her before."
Ein Journey to the Sotheby Manor is one far easier this time, with or without the particular forward assistance of the local Foundation office. Thanks to the intervention of Team Timekeeper the riots had died down without the place being stormed, and to the credit of all the intervention efforts, the riot had been broken without use of firm force thanks to mass mind control and mood suppression as deployed by Regulus's concert with Tamamo's and Sonetto's assistance.

While the matter broke well, the Foundation's contributors - Mr. and Mrs. Sotheby - did not appear after their trip. Foundation HQ Special Investigator on-site, Codename 'Moissan', had overseen the internal operations within the house for some time and was the Foundation's direct relation to the wealthy alchemists. Posing as a tutor to the Sotheby's daughter, the effusive Gwendoline Vera Sotheby, Ms. Moissan had operated long enough - and openly towards Mr. Karson - with the family to be trusted to handle matters at the house while Mr. Karson personally travelled in search of the adult members of the family. Having understood enough of the situation to believe a trip to try and locate the family personally in order, the head butler swore to return swiftly despite. He had not been told about the Storm, as that was still a secret, but still...

Mr. Karson only felt safe leaving for any length of time by the deployment of the 'Saber' squad, white cloaked and vaguely chess-visor'ed enforcers and Foundation tactical assets. The men (and they were all men) were tight-mouthed and businesslike sorts who set up a camp in the guest house and reported to Moissan for the home's defense.

It is one of the members of 'Saber' who checks your identity at the front gate, accompanied by one of the regular doormen manning the gatehouse. The gate doesn't match the walls, having just been replaced, but the new construction is nice and sturdy, allowing ingress into the property only after an extended door-swinging out. And you're not going to the main house today.

Down, down a winding path, out past the row of statues of growingly impressive monsters (until the most impressive monster//master of the house is revealed in the mansion itself), out past the main house and its statement of wealth, and around into a more shaded wood. Down, now, past a hillock that gives just enough lip to shade a drop (and provide miserable traction in the snowy winter), waving along a treepath until the forestry breaks and the land turns to a parking area short of where the land abruptly hits boggy marsh.

There is a horse, with saddle for riding set aside on a saddlebench nearby, grazing from feed in a stone and wooden trough and looking disinterestedly at the people arriving in any quantity. Past the area to park a car - there's even a small empty garage to pull into, if one has a mind to get out, open the unlocked wooden barn-like double doors, and drive the local tank into hangar - is a beautiful white wooden gazebo at the edge of the marsh, its foundation out on thick burnt-in wooden pylons into the marsh, slabs of stone and reinforced metal. Meant to take weathering itself, in the current late-afternoon of winter, the low sun gives a marvelous well-lit hour before sunrise's threat and pours into the glasspane construction. Almost a greenhouse, hanging plants are all about in various windows and elevations, from ceiling and side of walls, and spilling out into the path in a variety of stone pots spread as roots might be from a great banyan.

There must be some pattern to them, the turn and color and quantity and content of each pot, but it does not reveal itself to a casual observer.
Ein In the greenhouse belvedere, among easels and tables and vials and a desk for one, is a full-bodied woman of German heritage, wearing a dress of dark and darker blue with white trim and sleeves, high heeled boots uniform boots in dark grey, and a waist ribbon in light grey. She sits on a wooden chair, slightly relaxed into the chair without losing her posture, reading a hardcover book up on a stand near her, idly turning while sipping from a cup that does not steam. Lain against her chair is a fair-sized wooden mallet.

Meanwhile...

In the bog, within the shallow span near a wooden pier that has been maintained regularly, but not recently, Gwendoline Vera Sotheby - just 'Sotheby', right now, as the lady of the house at-station! - tromps through sucking mud that reaches up to her ankles and spongily wobbles under her shallow footdrops. Ahead of her, a truly fat toad springs lightly across more stable portions, staying at least a jump ahead of Sotheby while she chases after. The toad makes for the pier -- Sotheby has clearly waddled around the bog a bit to get the toad jumping towards the pier -- and Sotheby cackles ''evilly'' (and gets to bubbly-champagne).

"Now, Mr. Toad, I called yo~ur name three times! And you did not attend to my request! So now..."

She creeps towards her prey, fingers wiggling, breath a-giggling, and knuckles up the wood planks with a quick push. The toad is right on the wood, staring at her, blinking offcycle.

Sotheby springs with a Gotcha!! and a wa-oof! and a great clatter. The toad springs one hop away back across the bridge into the bog with far less sound and circumstance.

Sprawled out on the pier in a set of green coveralls and big rubbery waders, Sotheby still has her enormous hat on (it's her favorite hat!) and so is visible from all visual ranges.

Sotheby is laughing while she curses the daringly recidivist Mr. Frog, Ms. Moissan is supervising from the nearby building and now exiting as she sees the gang pull up, and Typhon, hero of this boggy occasion is set up atop Sotheby's bag at the fore of the pier.
Regulus Regulus is pretty exhausted. Her latest project has been working on setting up a warpgate for within the suitcase but of course as she has never built a warpgate before, she has to do a lot of reading (ugggh), studying (UGGGGGH), and material collection (okay that's actually pretty fun). But it means a lot of late nights fueled by Dr. Pepper and truly unfortunate amounts of energy drinks. She hasn't slept for thirty hours aside from a one hour nap. The sooner she's done with her work, the sooner she can show them. Perhaps, even, show them all that she is--indeed--talented. In things!!

She covers a yawn with her hand, APPLe fretting behind her. She doesn't even smug the camera when Vertin speaks about the results of her inquiries. In part because she's starting to feel a bit guilty--despite knowing damn well the Foundation can only help so many people, she's not exactly a fan of that reality and it's hard for her to just wave it off as the best choices out of worst options.

Naturally, she's arriving with her 'Team Captain Verti'n and Sonetto, whom she's acting like she has already forgotten about their last argument.

"Huh, looks like the Foundation can move fast sometimes." She quips at Sonetto. "Might be able to get some of the things I need while I'm here too." She does feel a little weird hitting up a child but more than that she wants to get this done as soon as possible.

''Now, Mr. Toad, I called yo~ur name three times! And you did not attend to my request!''

"Almost got 'em." Regulus quips to Sotheby. "You look like you're having fun." She'd reconize that hat from space. "Looks like...we meet again, Sotheby! Are you working on a new potion?"
Odette Raskins Getting to the Sotheby estate with only the lingering threat of getting beat up instead of an actively present one does wonders for Odette's mental state. Arriving with everyone else, she's dressed in her Company-issued blues with the uniform cap and jacket that make her look good and official without really indicating where she's even from.

Following Vertin, she listens closely to the confirmation of what they've discovered in prior forays into Chicago, although she still (somehow, despite being in the Watch) looks a little disappointed at re-hearing about the government and police.

"An alcohol-substitute? That'd be popular anywhere, I bet, especially if it's cheaper than getting the really good stuff, or if it lets them get around the Prohibition restrictions. But... Do we have any ways of getting in touch with Agent Moissan without blowing her cover?"

Heading deeper into the property, Odette's eyes go wide as she sees that greenhouse filled with all those hanging plants, slowing down a bit as she gawks at all those unfamiliar-looking plants. Her curiosity piqued, she nearly walks into whomever's unlucky enough to be directly in front of her, and she murmurs a quick apology before getting her head back on straight.

That's just in time to see the big wooden mallet, and then the unfamiliar German lady coming out while the more familiar Sotheby chases after the recidivist Mr. Frog. Caught briefly off guard by all the contrasts there, Odette breaks into a light giggle before raising her hand and greeting them with chipper  "Hello!"

"Thank you for meeting with us again, Miss Sotheby! And... Um. Missus Sotheby?" She asks, looking between Sotheby and Miss Moissan a few times, making a guess based solely on hair and presence. "That greenhouse of yours looks really cool. Do you mind if I take a closer look over there later? Er. After we're done with all this, I mean. I've never seen hanging plants like the ones you got in there before, and sprawling roots like that... Are those all for experiments?"
Lilian Rook     Due to certain approving reactions, and the consistency with which she sees the Foundation's finest* in their 'uniforms', Lilian has informally decided that her debut outfit at Laplace LSCC is her own 'Foundation uniform'. Which is, perhaps, just slightly too slutty for even a British winter, given the low shoulders and the skirt which doesn't quite cover the knee, but Lilian is willing to suffer for fashion to an impressive extent. Thus she looks good as hell on the casual car ride over, and then admirably suppresses curling her fingers into her sleeves the slight ache building in her ears the whole way up to the house.

    'The Walden bar, owned by an arcanist named Forget Me Not, that skirts the present laws of the Prohibition by means of a potion.'

    Lilian lets slip a foggy quarter-gasp, and murmurs low, "What a name. It's not as if it can be a codename or nom de guerre." She clears her throat, quietly, as Vertin continues, and then raises her voice to business tones. "I'm surprised to hear that. As a fringe radical group representing an ostensibly--" she's changed from 'allegedly, it seems, "--unfavoured minority group, I have trouble imagining them building considerable pull within the police; though I suppose politicians can always be bought."

    Despite the seemingly offhanded observation, Lilian leans uneasily onto her opposite foot. It's unlikely that she's worried about crossing corrupt cops, if you know her a little. "So we'd have to commit to either an all-out, guns blazing raid, sweeping the whole place before they can react in time to hide or destroy materiel, or, an undercover operation ahead of time, with enough agents who can meaningfully disguise themselves as clients of some bar to not risk losing contact." Lilian says. "Lovely."

    'This here is one of the potions they serve, created by Forget Me Not as a replacement for alcohol.'

    Lilian idly thinks of the potion that White had handed to her as a bizarre sign of good faith. She has no idea whether it's the same one, but it seems like a bad idea to bring it up now. "I'm afraid brewing was never my forté, even if I know it all in theory." she says.

    'She is not an 'irrelevant person' from this era, and is well-informed on both the Storm and the Manus Vindictae. ... We have met on occasion, but I have not worked with her before.'

    "That's good to know. If she can be a reliable ally, I'd appreciate the help from someone who has experience with established procedure. If not, then I'm still glad to be able to speak a little more freely."

    'Now, Mr. Toad, I called yo~ur name three times! And you did not attend to my request! So now...'

    But . . . no, surely not.

    "If I may ask, Timekeeper, are we planning to contact the Sothebies from the family line? I was under the impression they don't have phones like that here, nor do I quite know what arcane equivalents to suspect." Forget cellphones; she barely manages to avoid saying smartphones. "How will they advise remotely? Is Karson planning on returning shortly?"
Tamamo     '...skirts the present laws of the Prohibition by means of a potion.'

    "A potion? And this evades the law by... ah, it is 'something to which a drunkard would be drawn,' and yet, 'is not alcohol,' is it? Is it something that likewise dulls the senses, pain included?"

    '...and it appears inevitable that a formal request would make its way back to the Manus before we're able to step foot inside the building.'

    "Oh, how troublesome."

    'She is not an 'irrelevant person' from this era...'

    What a curious phrasing.

    Though pleased to see that nothing much was destroyed following their efforts, save for the likelihood of a damaged gate, Tamamo doesn't pay too much attention on the way over. At least, she doesn't appear to, treating the security pass-through with the casualness of one who should never be concerned over the right to be where they are. Instead, she focuses on what's clearly the most important matter -- at least until they hear the rest of the operational intelligence.

    Leaning in, "Oh, Lilian, look at the hem! An apron over a tea-length dress, and buttoned into it, with such a design upon the hem... is that a German style?" She's read a little, if only a little. "Oh, but see the little stars on her shoes. How fetching! I imagine children love to see it." She's seen a high proportion of young to very young women with a very high level of interest in space, since leaving the Heian era.

    "Oh, and look, there is the young miss Sotheby, as well. Young miss! Hello!" Oh, dear. Tamamo's waving.

    Without turning her head, "Timekeeper Vertin, are there not many skilled in potions, among arcanists? If it is related to any sort of medicine, or to a curse, I might assist, myself. Of course, if you have someone in mind, already..."
Tamiel Luxis     Even explicitly invited, and lead in, and introduced step after step, the young angel felt like a trespasser, her stomach a knot as she looked about the rich garden...and the various Foundation agents planted here and there. The ambient atmsophere of chicago is RANCID, the vindicitiveness and hate slipping like grease between her wings, leaving her feeling dirty. She's still wearing her newsboy cap and jacket--but she's stopped bothering to hide her wings. She trails behind the group, arms crossed, while her shadow holds two index fingers to the side its head, mimicing pressing a handgun to her ear.

    I should have been there."

    "You know, suppressing a riot is dangerous business. So often, all it is, is an instrument of tyranny."

    "--So...I shouldn't have been there?"

    "Oh? Do you think they deserved it, then?"

    Back in the present as she pulled free of memory, Tamiel made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat, while her two-dimensional double gave a pull of the trigger. Bang.

    With the assistance of an arcanist talented in potions, I hope to get an idea of the workings of his arcane skill.

    "Whatever alchemies I know don't usually line up perfectly well either," it sounds like yet ANOTHER apology until--"So, I'm glad that we have the someone to help."

    "Now, Mr. Toad, I called yo~ur name three times! And you did not attend to my request! So now..."

    Tamiel's wings become suddenly stock still, a small smile creeping across her face at the little mage chasing down the frog. It's a welcome break, from the direness of...Everything. Tamiel watches, enraptured as Soetheby clambers after the frog. "They won't escape you forever!" She cheers on Soetheby.
Ein Ms. Moissan, moving from her spot in the bog greenhouse sitting area and bringing both book, closed and held by spine, and wooden mallet all the way to doorframe. Seeing the Timekeeper and Sonetto in no state of distress, she leaves the tool just within the door such that it's not so patently visible. She, very apparently, does not need her mallet for these visitors!

The quiet of the bogside, almost lake-like in the purity of vista and even construction of the wooden pier out deeper into the muck. Farther in, on an island in the muck, there's even the sight of one of a series of lanterned waypoints through the mire - all currently unlit.

'Mr.' Toad makes a deep noise and maintains distance two jumps away from Sotheby, while Sotheby pops up to sitting, hands on knees while she rocks up towards rising but needs a few houp!s to finish her ascent to standing with a hop forward at the end. "While I *am* having fun, I'm doing very difficult work!" Sotheby announces, about to imperiously point with extended arm and proud finger when that entire motion and thought is aborted by there being not just one person but a whole chatty crowd. People! And more than that, *new* people.

Those golden *.* were for the sparkles in her eyes, as she realized with hands brought back to clasp at collar that there was such a wonderful party gathered today! For... toading!

"A new potion? Well, I'm al~ways learning new potions. A proper lady's training is *never* complete when expanding her rep-re-toire. But, see,"

Regulus, recruited as clearly the most memorable accomplice from last time, and now at the mercy of a thirteen year old, is hopped up besides and swung an arm around with just the mere snap of a rubbery glove aside as the noble lady tosses her left arm's attachment away to sweep clean and dainty fingers about Regulus' lower bicep. Even against the normal sized British woman, Sotheby is more hat than headheight, but with a cleaver duck-curl-twirl of the head (it must have been practiced repeatedly) she includes Regulus in a tippytoe ear-to-ear and shoulder supported hang that brings Regulus down under the hatbrim as allies against all of Jupiter's armies.

"Miss Regulus." Sotheby is ever-so-patient, ever-so-perfect, ever-so-ladylike.

She can't help but blush and go wide with wondrous-sparkling eyes. "What is *this* party for?"

And then she's off, hat swiping past Regulus near the dock to bounce around the topics and people as an excitable ~~teenager~~ refined little lady. "Alchemist? Potion? Do you need a consult? I'd be happy to! Let's do a *potion* party, and,

It is then that Ms. Moissan gets within polite earshot, greeting the group. "...--llo, everyone. Welcome to the estate. Timekeeper," She's on Vertin first, tucking book under arm to curtsey, deferent to Vertin and then shifting to a slighter bow-and-nod to Sonetto. "Ma'am. I'm Field Agent Moissan, from Headquarters. I had thought to take a break, between topics,"

Sotheby is besides Tamiel, staring at her wings, somehow there with her fingers reached out for the stilled angel wings.

"Miss, would you mind parting with... eight to," Sotheby counts with her fingers without looking at them, all wiggle and jointwork to abacus across the figures tactilely. "-twelve of your feathers? Mr. Karson says they're difficult to source but it seems like he's just been putting off the *good* potions for la-ter!"
Ein In a fit of giggles from Sotheby, Moissan tries to round Vertin with an 'I'm so sorry' smile and herd Sotheby away with her closed book as a kind of blinder, sign, and herding prod all in one. The little lady just pops up or crouches under, though eventually gets the picture and rounds to be corralled by the minder-agent's arm about her shoulder -- really, the width of her hat, attached to the rambunctious one's chin.

"Mr. Karson will not be available for the week, I'm afraid. He's taken a train to New York, to see if Mr. Sotheby was waylaid in Manhattan, or the capitol further down. In lieu of Mr. Sotheby,"

Sotheby has giddily shifted her attention to Lilian (who is conveniently in the visible arc of her wide hat) with Vertin, Sonetto, and Tamamo). "We've got everything in the greenhouse if you like? For the par-ty! Just, um,"

Looking out into the bog, she stops, and Moissan is already holding back a sigh. Please, please, please...

"Could someone help me catch that toad? I need it for the pastries! And, well, several other things, to be truthful. A lady should never lie!
Ein Moissan is left to finish her sentence after several embarrassing stops, her wish to be quietly rid of toads for the evening dashed.

"I had promised her the last hour until sunset to try and catch her toad, if she needed one, before supper and evening studies. Is there something we can help you with, Timekeeper? We'd be happy to help."

Moissan has the gentle bearing of someone disposed to being quiet already modulating their presence actively and mindfully. For a moment she's felt, guiding and herding and firm of voice, and then she is once more guiding, delicate, leading as a mother might to someone around a step younger than she might ought as a default.

Up close, the woman spends time observing around her and considering each of the members of the Timekeeper's party. She settles on Odette, when the other girl speaks up.

"It would be easiest if we moved inside, really. For discussing things, not catching a cold, and how the forest closes in at night."

Just at the first island, you see it:

A stack of three Carbuncle puffballs, from largest at the base to smallest at the top, staring at everyone. Besides, a single Carbuncle of medium size also stares, exactly two-ish enemies for a single wave of combat in the threateningly just-distance.

"And, thank you for the compliment, but - no, I am not any relation to the young miss besides 'tutor'. As for the plants..."

Moissan brings up her book to tap the underside of chin. "Mrs. Sotheby said it gathered natural energy, to plant them in the shape of plants. A layering? I didn't understand it, but she does more work with plants, and Mr. Sotheby with magical creatures. Together, they became quite the power pair, or so it goes. Their daughter..."

Sotheby has been trying for several seconds to try and play off her dire interest in everything that's going on, is failing, and is back to thinking party! with her whole face.
Lilian Rook     'We've got everything in the greenhouse if you like? For the par-ty! Just, um

    "It's a lovely greenhouse." Lilian says, smiling already. "It's very different from the one we have at home, but that makes it interesting. And it seems like you have some very rare plants as well." That's all true! This girl is frequently Garden Themed!

    'Could someone help me catch that toad?'

    "Chaill tú sé."

    Nobody needs to see all the effort Lilian put into going after that amphibious little heiffer in a swamp without getting herself dirty. She pushes herself on with thinking about how cool it's going to look now that she snapped her fingers right before she began once she's done. She uses the metal-clad hand to hold it, though, and then looks around uncertainly. "Does this go in a jar or the like?"

    She looks off into the distance, at the three carbuncles, menacingly. She remembers those little bastards from the Suitcase.

    'In lieu of Mr. Sotheby'
    'Alchemist? Potion? Do you need a consult?'

    Still, she can't help but look at Vertin and Sonetto like 'Really? She's barely a teenager. We're roping her into this?'
Timekeeper "Might be able to get some of the things I need while I'm here too."

    Sonetto presses her lips together in a frown when Regulus suggests harvesting unspecified materials from someone's house, but valiantly chooses to interpret that statement in a positive way. "Are you speaking of alchemical components? The Sotheby family likely has a very wide range available for sale."

"An alcohol-substitute?"
"And this evades the law by... ah, it is 'something to which a drunkard would be drawn,' and yet, 'is not alcohol,' is it?"

    "By transmuting into alcohol the moment it passes your lips," Vertin responds flatly to the hypotheses. She taps a thumbnail against the side of the bottle's neck with a clear clack. "It's hardly an adequate disguise for any but the most disinterested of regulatory bodies. Rather than this indicating a broad disinterest in the Prohibition, however, it's likely that either through bribery or infiltration they've receieved special treatment."

    "That indicates, I suspect, that their position isn't quite so secure that their center of operations would be unscathed if they were flaunting the law openly, regardless of whatever favor they've bought. All it takes is one sip to prove otherwise, but just from examining the potion itself, there's no trace of lawbreaking."

"--unfavoured minority group, I have trouble imagining them building considerable pull within the police; though I suppose politicians can always be bought."

    "It's also very likely that they're unaware of the particular forces influencing them, but," When not actually under threat of immediate danger, expositing towards Lilian is actually a source of engagement for Vertin, given the way she tends to expand the conversation precisely along their wavelength. "They're also pushing for *more* political violence towards and from arcanists, not less. I imagine it's an easier job to nudge the police towards inciting violence than suppressing it."

    She nods. "And you're right. Given the association with the Concord, there's no one at Headquarters who'd be willing to authorize a raid at this point, not to mention the tensions it'd create with the legal position of the Foundation and the American government. Trivial though it may be, I'd like to gather as much information as possible before advancing into their base at all."

"How will they advise remotely? Is Karson planning on returning shortly?"
"Of course, if you have someone in mind, already..."

    Passing by the greenhouse and peeking around for the bog, Vertin clears her throat and adjusts her hat. "The Sotheby bloodline is among the most skilled in potioncraft in the world. Unfortunately, Mr. Sotheby himself has been uncontactable for some time by the Foundation. While there are certainly potion specialists in Laplace, there are... interorganizational complications with requesting their help with this." As in, she used some sketchy means to investigate the Walden and get this potion already and doesn't want to explain it. "Leaving the young Miss Sotheby as our best option."

    And speaking of, there she is! Vertin smiles and greets the muddy froghuntress with a "Hello again, Sotheby. I hope our party invitations stand from last time." but she's waylaid by Moissan soon after, leaving Sonetto with the alchemist of the hour.
Timekeeper "While I *am* having fun, I'm doing very difficult work!"

    Sonetto stands stuff and awkward compared to Sotheby's vibrant energy, but that line out of her gets a solemn, very un-partylike nod out of her. "That is very admirable of you. What is your... need... for the toad you are trying to capture?" Between that, and always 'expanding her rep-re-toire, and her rule that a lady should never lie, Sonetto is gradually gaining an approximately incorrect but positive opinion of Sotheby.

"Welcome to the estate. Timekeeper,"

    "Hello. I'm glad to see you're getting along well despite the circumstances." Vertin shifts her suitcase under her arm to offer out a placid handshake. "I do, but you're right that it'd be more comfortable to discuss inside. Though...."

"Could someone help me catch that toad?"

    Vertin turns to talk over her shoulder at Sotheby, where Sonetto is quietly distraught and trying to work out the relevance of pastries to toad. "A toad learned to jump over mud because of how its suction slows your steps down. Perhaps you'd have better luck chasing it if you mimicked the way it jumps?"

    "Timekeeper...? Understood." They're here, of course, to request a favor from Sotheby, and so in Sonetto's mind it's proper gratitude to help her in turn. What this means becomes clear after Sonetto begins rolling up the sleeves of her uniform and drawing her glass pen like she's going to battle. "I will capture the toad."
Lilian Rook     'By transmuting into alcohol the moment it passes your lips'

    "Clever bastard." Lilian says, and sighs at the fact that she's actually impressed.

    'That indicates, I suspect, that their position isn't quite so secure that their center of operations would be unscathed if they were flaunting the law openly, regardless of whatever favor they've bought.'

    "The fact is that if the law were interested in looking deeper to prosecute on spirit rather than letter, the law would be invested enough that they'd find a way to punish fringe arcanists anyways." Lilian says. "Better legal compliance isn't a shield against police who are obviously corrupt and who want to get you particularly. The thin veneer is practically yakuza-like." she says, then quickly recalls she's talking to a British girl from a weird little private school commune. "It's a sign of cooperation and civil manners from the organized criminals to indicate cooperation with the elements looking the other way, like keeping the peace."

    'They're also pushing for *more* political violence towards and from arcanists, not less.'

    Lilian doesn't bother to veil a little grimace. "Right. I recall you mentioning that." she says. Just now, of course. It was much too easy to live in a world where she and they had some sort of social cause in common. Lilian files away the directive to examine why for later. "It's easier to buy them if you're 'one of you and not one of them'. There's nothing people like that love more than a token sympathizer, like a holy charm."

    'And you're right. Given the association with the Concord, there's no one at Headquarters who'd be willing to authorize a raid at this point, not to mention the tensions it'd create with the legal position of the Foundation and the American government.'

    Lilian appreciates being told that she's right long enough to wait until Vertin is done talking before folding her arms and sighing out, "Undercover it is." She'd drawn that conclusion the moment the Concord came up. "If Manus Vindictae's Concord allies actually put in the effort," Which is to say, she's on the fence about their dedication right now. "It'll be a more strenuous job than usual for the Foundation's intelligence personnel, with more dangerous unknowns."

    Lilian glances sidelong, and holds her posture uncomfortably. It's visibly unpleasant to admit something to Vertin right now. "I'd actually rather dislike anyone less trained than I am, actually. Which limits our options to a minuscule handful of experts I can call in some favours with; if you take my opinion."

    'While there are certainly potion specialists in Laplace, there are... interorganizational complications with requesting their help with this.'

    "Well. This Laplace contractor doesn't have any objections to raise." says Lilian. It's not really the same as securing the cooperation of Lucy's people, but it symbolically means something. "You've worked hard to make something happen that would be difficult otherwise." Then, "Fifth."
Tamamo     Tamamo is so not equipped for catching toads, having arrived, like last time, in an attempt at authentic 1920s formal wear -- though it's somewhere around 'evening' or 'cocktail.' Owing to the last experience, and buoyed by the young Sotheby's own dress, she's gona just a bit further this time while keeping to her own preferences, thanks to discovering the technique of using chiffon and lace to give the appearance of detached sleeves, in what remains a full and nearly full-length dress. The tassels at the end of the hanging sleeves are something she would have suspected were too much, before, but it's probably fine! She's still yet to find a hat she quite liked.

    In any case, she's not about to step in a bog. Lilian will surely handle it perfectly, if no one leaps into the muck before -- and there it is.

    'I need it for the pastries!'

    "Truly? A toad, for pastries?" This... is definitely the thinking of an alchemist.

    'I'm Field Agent Moissan.'

    "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Moissan... or is it, 'thank you for having us'? I suppose that depends on whether we are here for..." as Vertin speaks to Sotheby, "...a party."

    Tamamo follows Lilian's gaze to the carbuncles. "Ah...? Oh, yes, perhaps it would be best if we go indoors, after all, as much as I would not mind looking more closely at the garden." She doesn't know! She doesn't know about the enemy waves.

    And then, a question, important only in contexts that won't be revealed for a considerable length of time, "Ms. Sotheby, I would give you a pair of questions, if I may. The first of them is, 'How often do you consider stars?'"
Regulus Regulus glances over to Odette and Tamiel, frowning thoughtfully to herself and rubbing (the back of) her neck. "Hey I never said difficult work couldn't be fun." She does feel ever so slightly called out by 'a proper lady's training is never complete when expanding her repertoire' but only a little, while Regulus does like to take it easy she's been literally expanding her repertoire since before coming to the Sotheby estate today. Actually maybe the big thing she should ask Sotheby for is a 'pick-me-up' potion so she can make it through the note and 'reset' her sleep schedule.

''The Sotheby family likely has a very wide range available for sale.''

Regulus looks at Sonetto for a while as she suggests paying the Sotheby family for materials with her non-salary while they have an actual butler. (APPLe is not a Butler he's a First Mate and a bff, best fruit forever)

"Well...I don't have sharpondonty but I can maybe trade?... since it's super important work, mhm..." She bobs her head rapidly before feeling a new yawn coming on. She smacks her face a couple times with her palm to wake herself up.

She looks back to Sotheby, "Since you've a record player, if youd like to try one of my records maybe--woah!"

She's pulled down into Sotheby's orbit in short order.

She looks into Sotheby's sparkling eyes and grimly acknowledges she might have to fight the King of Olympus alongside a bunny.

"You got it. We need your expertise." Regulus pushes her shades back up her nose after they fell down a bit due to being pulled down Sotheby-level. "A potion party's just the thing. I'm an alchemist, and so's Lilian, but we aren't potion experts--you are, though, so there's nobody better we could think of for the job." She gives Sotheby a two-fingered salute.

''A lady should never lie!''

Regulus almost says 'well sometimes a lady should lie' but she stops herself just in time.

''Forget-Me-Not's potion.''

Regulus glances to Vertin. In truth, she didn't think the potion trick would be that big of a deal, she saw it as a long shot, but that's why Vertin's the Captain. They've got the spyglass.

''Perhaps you'd have better luck chasing it if you mimicked hte way it jumps?''

Is that real? IS THAT REAL?? Would that work?? She has no idea but she'll have to try herself sometime, she decides. Just maybe not in this outfit.

"Did you bring the samples we got?" Regulus asks of Vertin.
Lilian Rook     'Oh, Lilian, look at the hem! An apron over a tea-length dress, and buttoned into it, with such a design upon the hem... is that a German style?'

    "I . . . think so?" Lilian says, now Regarding Ms. Moisson in a way she'd easily glossed over due to how obviously distinctive she is and how easy she'll be to spot. "I'm not terribly familiar with the fashion of the--" Era."--country, but objectively speaking, it's rather fetching, isn't it?" Lilian then starts thinking about how uncommonly common it is that she and Tamamo have occasion to gossip about the Character Design of people in this world. Her tiny smile is inscrutable.

    'Ah...? Oh, yes, perhaps it would be best if we go indoors, after all, as much as I would not mind looking more closely at the garden.'

    "If you'd like to do so after, I'd be more than happy!" Lilian says, in that chest-puffing tone that means she's going to eradicate every random encounter for five miles if Tamamo wants to smell some roses.

    'How often do you consider stars?'

    It's rare that Lilian double-takes at Tamamo like that.
Timekeeper "Well...I don't have sharpondonty but I can maybe trade?"

    "Regulus, you've no need to pay out of pocket for things I've asked you to do," says Vertin, who is also absolutely not made of money. The manor is, ironically, a money sink, even though she got it for free.

"We've got everything in the greenhouse if you like? For the par-ty! Just, um,"

    "The greenhouse sounds like a lovely location for a party, Sotheby." Vertin doesn't even mean that facetiously, or as a way of baiting Sotheby into doing what she wants. The ease with which she agrees to a party is suspiciously as though she's fully willing to just spend the evening at a party hosted by a thirteen year old. "You're responsible for the gardening, are you not? Are any of the plants your favorites in particular?"

    To not overly bury the lede, they do eventually mention, "I would like the opinion of a master alchemist on some alchemical curiosities I've brought, though. Some of them I believe you'll find very interesting."

    More as 'gifts' than real requests, Vertin's also brought along a handful of future-innovated alchemical tools and toys, from 'overseas'. The sparkly Misty Bubble Ball, a variety of alchemical drinks and treats with mild magical effects along the line of 'sneezing fire' or turning your skin temporarily green-- Vertin won't press for 'information' about these rather than simply allowing Sotheby to enthuse about them. When it comes to Forget Me Not's potion, she lightly warns to 'not take more than one mouthful', and needs a more thorough rundown.

    But they only start unloading those items from their suitcase once everyone's settled in and the toad-catching mission is fully complete. Until then, Vertin's in goof-off city, though you couldn't tell she's enjoying herself from her completely neutral expression.

"Chaill tú sé."

    Just as Sonetto is gearing up for Battle, presumably to cast some terrible spell upon the innocent toad, she blinks, and it's already captured. Pleasantly praising, "Ah, Dame Rook. Your incantation speed is very impressive."

    Her head whips to the side like she was alerted by a suspicious trample of leaves, zeroing in on the carbuncles. Pen already drawn, she twirls it between her fingers at the ready. "Timekeeper? There are likely-hostile critters at our ten o'clock. Should I dispose of them?"

    "Likely not, unless Ms. Moissan deems it necessary. As long as we're inside before night falls, they're harmless."
Tamiel Luxis     "Oh, I can try to flush it ou--" Tamiel is halfway through an offer to help with the toad before jumping, when it all of the sudden was in Lilian's hand. "When--How--" Her shadow scratches at her head, baffled, while Tamiel tries to regain her composure. "Well miss Sotheby, is this your toad...?" She gave an awkward little giggle.

    Soetheby's sudden interest in taking and brewing with her wings makes Tamiel visibly tense for a moment. "Ah..." She bits down on her lip uncertainly. "Well...If you're okay with the older ones, then..." It was difficult to turn little Soetheby down. "This side please..." She tapped her left shoulder. "The other one's still getting better."

    There's time, before anything else, for Soethby to claim one.Her 'wings,' such as they are, are less feathery plummage and more...floating shards, hanging in the air, like pieces of stained glass. They hang there, behind her, still, as Soetheby reaches out to claim her prize. There's a moment of resistance, when the little alchemist tries to pluck them loose--a shimmer of stiffness rolling over her wings--before it comes loose--free in her hand. They are smooth, like glass--but strangely, comfortably warm--even pliable in Soetheby's hands, bending and twisting just-so. Light filtered through them like an erratic prism.

    "What do you want to use them for...?" Tamiel asked, trying to put herself at ease.

    "...And how the forest closes in at night."

    "What do you--Ah!" She jumps slightly, her eyes finding the pecular pile of carbunkles. She stares, baffled, watching menace lines radiating outward from something so very very...Cute. "...I guess they're not friendly?" She cleared her throat, assuming the answer. "Yeah...We can go inside...You can have some more of my feathers there."
Odette Raskins "So we'd have to commit to either . . ."

Odette inhales slowly, then slumps just a bit at thinking about both of those possibilities, not looking pleased with either one that Lilian raises. "And all of that without the government willing to help us at all, or even working against us if they're tipped off right in the middle of it all... A-and it's probably too late to get someone on the inside from that angle, I guess."

"Let's do a *potion* party,"

Again, Odette's eyes light up a bit. So what if Sotheby's a child? Does she even know that? All she knows is that there's at least three people here that she might be able to test confusing ingredients with, and without a (huge) risk of losing her main source of income at that. "Oh, that could be fun-er. Useful, for sure. For studies and work things, I mean." She says and corrects herself in short order, trying to look and sound at least a little more professional. "I've got some ingredients in my bag, but I'm really curious how they'd mix with the stuff you've got growing here."

"I'm Field Agent Moissan,"
"It would be easiest if we moved inside, really. "

"... Oh! Sorry, Miss Moissan. Er. It's good to meet you!" She greets, just a smidge hastily while trying not to get too embarassed about mistaking her identity. "And... Not having to worry about how to get in touch with you." Odette admits with a chuckle, offering her a sympathetic look when Sotheby reiterates her intent to get that toad. "Too bad Mr. Karson couldn't be here for the potion party... Oh, catching a toad? That shouldn't be too hard if we pen it in, right?"

Eager to help Sotheby and impress Miss Moissan in one fell swoop, Odette starts calling upon all her knowledge of wrangling pests back home. She takes all of one step towards the bog and glances over at Sonetto, eager to see what she's got in store for Mr. Toad as well. She promptly stops in place when she sees that Lilian's already got it handled.

No matter how many times she sees it, she still can't help but gawk and murmur "Poggers..." in quiet awe before turning back to Moissan who gives her little more information that makes her eyes gleam just a bit with more wonder.

"That sounds... I don't really get what that means, either, but it sounds like it could be really neat to dig into! Plants that can grow off their own energy does sound like it'd be a pretty big breakthrough for keeping a stash of food and medicine in harsh conditions, too. And those little critters over there... Those are Mister Sotheby's, then?"

"By transmuting into alcohol the moment it passes your lips,"

vertin reveals the secret, and Odette's already trying to turn the gears in her head. "Neat...  I wonder if it stays as alcohol if you spit it back out, or if it changes back. And does it change again if you pour it right back in?" She guesses as the desire to experiment with that potion grows stronger, just staring at the potion bottle while wondering about what could even be in there. "Maybe there's something that instantly ferments when it touches saliva, and unferments once it's exposed to air somehow?"

"Hey I never said difficult work couldn't be fun."

"That's the best part sometimes, isn't it?" Odette sounds a little fired up as she looks over at Regulus and Tamiel, apparently seeming rather enthused by the presence of the potion and the greenhouse not too far away.

Forcing her mind back to the actual topic, however, Odette clears her throat, frowns slightly as she's reminded of the entire corruption matter. "It still sounds so backwards. I mean, letting things get worse to try and make it better in the long run is one thing, but police aren't really... They're not really decision makers like that, right? Letting things get more violent and having more people yelling at them to do their jobs just sounds like creating way more work for themselves."
Lilian Rook     'Well...I don't have sharpondonty but I can maybe trade?'

    Lilian gives Regulus a real sour look. "Trade what? I wonder." She's definitely thinking that Regulus stole like a ton of contraband from the LSCC.

    'Regulus, you've no need to pay out of pocket for things I've asked you to do,'

    "That may be so, but nevertheless, try not to spoil her." Lilian says.

    'Ah, Dame Rook. Your incantation speed is very impressive.'

    "Thank you very much~" Yay! Now she gets to be all enthused! "The speed of a swordfight is much higher than that of combat at middle range; acquiring that pace is a critical necessity." she says, truthful, but also fake as fuck. She first learned from fighting Schneider and White that weaving incantations in ahead of her 'time stops' is way harder than she though it'd be; even with excellent foresight the hitch in her automatic motions shaves precious fractions of a second off her defense even before she finishes a quarter-second speed incantation at best.

    'When--How--'

    "Just now." Lilian says. "And by magic." Incidentally, she repeats the incantation outside of near-dead Irish. "You missed it."

    'Well...If you're okay with the older ones, then...'

    "Oh?" She raises an eyebrow. "And here I thought you'd begin expositing about their incomparable cultural value. What a pragmatic surprise."

    'A-and it's probably too late to get someone on the inside from that angle, I guess.'

    This is the unpleasant thing which Lilian was revving up to. "It's not. If it's a bar, it'll take customers. Ideally, we can use agents who they don't already know of, though the capacity for Manus Vindictae to simply do their research is annoyingly sharp." she says. "But in a pinch, I know someone who can manage disguises. Furthermore . . ."

    She really takes her time deciding on this one. More than she had speaking to Vertin a minute ago. "If that proves untenable, we could resort to . . ." Lilian sighs. "Pretending that I'm interested. They've already solicited me to join, after all."
Timekeeper "It's a sign of cooperation and civil manners from the organized criminals to indicate cooperation with the elements looking the other way, like keeping the peace."

    Vertin's never been to Japan before! The state of the Foundation's collected materials on non-European history is probably extremely dire. The elaboration, though, she understands completely.

    "Right. Because the criminal contract is implicit rather than legally consistent, I believe it's a potential weak point. Exposing some means by which they can each interpret the other to be transgressing the boundaries of their cooperation may put them at each other's throats without the Foundation visibly being involved whatsoever. Perhaps by prompting government investigation into the potion out of fear for their own safety for having consumed it."

"If Manus Vindictae's Concord allies actually put in the effort,"

    Vertin's pursed lips suggest her own doubt at the same, but she's not thrilled about the idea for whatever reason. "I'd like to talk with you about that sometime, actually. And when the time comes, I'll see if I can't try and coordinate your input on Elite capabilities with Madam Z."

"This Laplace contractor doesn't have any objections to raise."

    Vertin smiles, imperceptible but genuine. "I do appreciate it, though I worry for the stability of your status if you start voicing my schemes to Laplace." A pause. "Fifth?"

    Sonetto recites, rote like an audio journal, though it is the Trideag version. "'Keep what you have justly earned, and deprive no comrade of theirs.'" "Right, the Code. I ought to memorize their order. Thank you, Sonetto."
Regulus ''Trade what? I wonder.''

"A ...record." Regulus tells Lilian. "That's why I said--"

''You've no need to pay out of pocket for things I've asked you to do.''

"Well..." In truth, Regulus's brain says 'She's a gazillionaire who gives a shit?' but her heart says 'okay but like she's a fourteen year old kid'. "Spreading the power of rock and roll is a payment I'm willing to make." She then begrudgingly admits, "Though it would go a lot faster if I didn't have to hunt down everything. Putting everything together is going to take ages." Though as Regulus's boss, Vertin has the ability to lower the timeframe down to whatever she wants and Regulus will just have to make it happen somehow. Two weeks can become seven days, seven days can become seven hours. Somehow, this just seems to work out that.

Regulus actually enjoys doing little things to 'upgrade' the manor. She thrives making little adjustments here and there whether it's building a small boat that can go out on the water or 'upgrading' the record player. She's starting to see the Suitcase as her 'Project Zone'.

''Odette sounds a little fired up''

Regulus is encouraged a little by Odette sounding fired up about something. "Well it's not like I'd object to something being easy, but sure--yeah--sometimes a difficult job is satisfying, but so is figuring out a way to make that difficult job easier. You're a medic right maybe you could learn a bit..." She realizes halfway through her sentences that she's telling an adult woman with medical training to learn from a child. "...From Sotheby." She finishes anyway. Sorry Odette, but it was too awkward to turn the conversation wheel back!

When Vertin brings out the Forget-Me-Not potion she adds, "There we are..."

''Keep what you have justly earned, and deprive no comrade of theirs.''

"Oh like a union." Regulus says.
Lilian Rook     'Exposing some means by which they can each interpret the other to be transgressing the boundaries of their cooperation may put them at each other's throats without the Foundation visibly being involved whatsoever.'

    "Despite that face, you can be a nasty piece of work, can't you?" Lilian says, approvingly. "Even in my world, it's easy to provoke mistrust, if not outright fear, of potions and pills and the sort. If it passes itself off perfectly as alcohol once it's drunk, I imagin it wouldn't be too difficult to make a few telltale hearts believe that they've been smuggled a bottle they've already drunk; and who knows what those people plan to do?" Rich of her to say that, and then enthusiastically participate in armchair spin-doctoring.

    'I'd like to talk with you about that sometime, actually. And when the time comes, I'll see if I can't try and coordinate your input on Elite capabilities with Madam Z.'

    Hey. Hey why does Lilian look faintly stunned? Isn't that like, the single most reasonable thing to do in Vertin's position? In practically anyone's, actually? "I . . . look forward to get a good idea of 'Madam Z'." she says. "If it's you, my line is always open. Let's just not leave it until the last minute, shall we?"

    'I do appreciate it, though I worry for the stability of your status if you start voicing my schemes to Laplace.'

    "Now why in God's name would I do that?" Lilian says. It isn't even coy; her stare is nearly blank in confusion. "I'm afraid I'm quite knowledgeable in things that are unnecessary to say." she adds.

    Sonetto reciting Trídéag's version of the Code gives her pause, but then thinking about the fact that it's the same thing 'in her own words', Lilian once again feels slightly more positive towards Sonetto than before, and allows herself a little smile.

    'Though it would go a lot faster if I didn't have to hunt down everything. Putting everything together is going to take ages.'

    "That's the price you pay for your druthers." Lilian says. "Some people say 'freedom isn't free'." That's important ethnic knowledge! For America!

    'Oh like a union.'

    "What?"
Ein Tamiel acquiesces to Sotheby's most direct request and so she attends to it while she's there right next to Tamiel, her overeagerness pulling back as she pulls a comb from her pocket - one for her own hair - and starts lightly brushing it into some of the wingfeathers to sort little snags and ruffles, brushing out the big feathers while searching for the right ones.

"Oh, you've not got too many ready to fall, huh? Well, I'd hate to hurt you after *just* meeting you, and seeing as now I know an angel, I won't be so desperate for every plume and pinion!"

Working loose the oldest four or so, carefully taking them frim spots such that it's a perhaps slightly grabby care session to the proffered wing, Sotheby pulls back with a little nod and a fistful of feathers. "I've only brushed out griffons before, and yours are so much prettier!" She praises quickly, escaping with her fresh catch.

"Well, you can make a lot of things better with angel dust, which is primarily feather-dust but can be dried trimmings, when it comes to the consideration of tonics and elixirs. As a salve, splinting with angel's feathers ensures clean setting, but that might be the most wasteful use, as they begin to lose their properties rapidly when introduced to certain humors - particularly, blood." Sotheby, with an audience, especially with a little time to talk, just motors and motors. "Picked, the plumage can be used in a pile and heated until melting to gather sunbeams if you vault your crucible with tinted glass and let them fall into a smoke-shrouded bucket. But that's if you need to break them down into sunbeams, which, if you've a source of fresh sunbeams already, is really just a materially expensive way to--" Sotheby stops short. "Well it's rude to call you a material, miss." She admits, with a bashful smile and a fistful of feathers.

And then... Sonetto, poor Sonetto, perks up at hearing Sotheby's plan. "I'm so glad you asked!" She begins, with the Foundation liason hearing the conversational equivalent of 'missile! missile!' with Sotheby squirming free from Moissan as the taller woman moves to lead people towards the greenhouse.

"Extract of toad is a truly versatile unguent ingredient, used in several head~ier brews, and of course, can be triple distilled into a wonderful thickener for all manner of things! You have to be careful to strain through the right cloth for the third distillation, or you'll lose the essence you're looking for in the fourth boil and on!"

"And together-!" Sotheby winds up, clean arm holding at her shoulder to wind still-gloved right, "-we'll-!"

'Chaill tú sé.'

Sotheby is simply produced upon one rather mighty bog beast and begins reaching almost as if to hug amphibian to chest before looking and remembering that she discarded a glove to hug to Regulus. Sharp, and peeling off her second bog-glove to hold, Sotheby points towards the greenhouse, moving as she chatters happily. "Wonderful, wonderful! After a good squish everything Mr. Toad has for me will be mine, and then I can finish my latest batches before bedtime! Right this way, please!"

"I've a toad squishing device, you see. Well, it's my father's toad squishing device? But! But I've made adjustments, so really, it's my custom toad squisher! And it works much better. I've solved the biggest problem, and you'll see, it's ve-ry clev-er!" On and on and on she talks, a bundle of energy as she narrates and Moissan tries to herd and converse and be mindful and vigilant all at once. Largely, she succeeds, but in this case Sotheby is herding herself.
Ein "Payment won't be necessary, and I couldn't price them if you'd like. This is the favored garden of Mrs. Sotheby, and garden-house. She said it reminded her, as a 'cattailed shade of', the place she remembered more fondly far away, and so it is her that did most of the decorating and planting. Without her around... The creatures become 'rowdy', and fail to respect the boundaries and walls of the place. They're harmless if you have the lanterns lit... until, yes, until evening. But one mustn't walk a bog at night unless it is their bog to walk," Moissan helpfully instructs, with a raised finger as if quoting again, and then pauses as if considering. "I wonder if Mrs. Sotheby believes this is her bog, even. She seemed very... far away, when she said it. Perhaps it is best we leave the bog to itself for the night."

With more adult interest asking questions Moissan's issue of turning on Teacher//Mother mode when dealing with someone young, she's able to answer forthcomingly after her thoughtful moments, taking even steps at the middle-back of the group to chaperone from the rear.

"I can show you the garden as I know it if you'd like to come an earlier time in the morning, or perhaps Mrs. Sotheby will be back by then. The young miss and I have been placed in charge of plucking the overflowing product for drying to keep the plants healthy - if you take no more than is there to be taken in health, you are doing us a favor."

She fails to make eye contact for a second or so. "You are doing me a favor. The young miss enjoys experimenting with surplus, and is now obsessed with cakes." She admits, while Sotheby charges ahead.

Within the greenhouse it is clear that the place is the sort of beyond-storybook pure visualization of a billionaire bog witch. The patina of green that scatters across everything like an emerald aura makes this house of growing things and the sun's enjoyment warm with living light. Flowers from tropical zones sit up higher in the clever terracing of conditions, and little spigots and fans rotate various humidities through the area. There are bulbs, within, interior zones in a fan of circles within the overall single dome that bulb with interior definition slightly while still having an open space. At the center, a circle among the circles, is a sitting area that Moissan had been at previously. The single desk - sized for Sotheby - has been pulled out over some instruction Moissan was doing at a sink desk (in lieu of better, or perhaps for the homey feel). The space is like retro-deluxe lab, plant-observatory, and cozycore bog witch retreat house all in once, with a vine hammock hung in a dim sunbeam hung with a big old tattered dark blue and rich purple hat like an evil mushroom.

Someone's ideal space, temporarily converted into that someone's daughter's school. That someone being an alchemist of great renown herself meant every tool of the trade and state of the art of 1928 was present besides.

Sotheby leads Lilian to a large pillowy-bottom half-cube with a press winchable over to lower another odd pillow onto whatever is placed within. "Of course I'll help, though. You're my party friends! And I'd do anything for my friends, including... testing out your potions! Really, how thoughtful of you! Testing potions is among my favorite hobbies, though some people say it's not a hobby,"

"It's not a hobby, young miss, even if you enjoy it. It is your family business,"

"Which means that this is really school time, since I'm work-ing!"

Moissan is silenced by the logic, having to do advanced tutor calculus in her head to figure out of 'assisting the Timekeeper' was worth learning credits. Her oath to the Foundation meant it might... But on the other hand, was this a learning objective?
Lilian Rook     'I've a toad squishing device, you see. Well, it's my father's toad squishing device? But! But I've made adjustments, so really, it's my custom toad squisher! And it works much better. I've solved the biggest problem, and you'll see, it's ve-ry clev-er!'

    Lilian is suddenly struck imagining a toad being pulped in a crank-operated hydraulic press. She stares down at the ribbiting creature in her hand, and briefly feels a Way about reducing it to Tubby Custard and bone chips. She shakes her head a second later; surely Sotheby just means the oil glands.

    'But one mustn't walk a bog at night unless it is their bog to walk'

    "A classical bit of advice; and one well-justified in being passed down." Lilian murmurs, walking along after Sotheby.

    'Which means that this is really school time, since I'm work-ing!'

    "She's got you there." Lilian says, smiling at Ms. Moisson.
Ein Losing her interest in what her hands are doing as delightful toys are laid out before her, Sotheby takes up one of Forget-Me-Not's potion vials while pogging at something beyond anything her parents had ever showed her as soon as one such vial is handed to her and begins by bringing it over to a beaker stand set up on a nearby worktable (of which there are multiple!). Finally peeling attention away, with angel feather in hand, she holds it over the top of the vial to comb feather over the entrance and directly sniff from the vial rather than wafting. "Witch-Eye leaf?" Sotheby tests, from her scent inspection, then pulls the feather off to wave that before her nose and frowning a different lip-chewing way.

"It's very mildly reactive, but the feather didn't blacken so there's no lethal agent to me... The reaction is mild enough it's activating in air but not enough to make it go 'pop'! . . ." Her sparkling-eyed reaction has dropped into entirely locked-in gamestate, hat brim lowering to make her expression unviewable for all but the quite short, until she runs the test angel feather under a bit of sink water that leaves a faint glow in the basin it is poured into, and is placed aside with the rest of her collection.

Mr. Toad, placed into a machine (if Lilian will Arm the Tubby Custard pillow pulper), makes a swabbling noise and croaks before bouncing against the interior. Its fate NEARS SEALING!

"It would be a 'thank you for your efforts', Ms. Tamamo. I've gotten an update dossier on some of the active members of the expanded efforts of Team Timekeeper, but I heard from the guards at the door you and Ms. Regulus were literally instrumental in that work." Moissan shares, while bowing slightly again. "Thank you for that, and for your return attention. I prefer the indoors, despite the cold being pleasant this time of year. It is a... nice place, to be teaching."
Regulus ''What?''

"That 'Fifth Code' Sonetto was talking about, it's like what a union would say. See, the greedy employer would, to make more of a profit, try to keep the most money they can from ''your'' labor, so you make the union in order to keep what you've earned--a proper paycheck. Of course, your emnployer might try to turn you against your fellow employees--maybe making you a middle manager and giving you a small raise in exchange for working to keep them from getting paid properly, so--yeah, the union says instead of trying to deprive your fellow employee of ''their'' paycheck either, you instead work together to make sure everybody's properly paid so your boss does'nt take advantage of you."

''That's the price you pay for your druthers.''

"Well the best thing about freedom is you can complain even if it's part of the deal." Regulus quips back.

She glances to Vertin and adds, "Toads wouldn't work by the way." in an aside to Vertin. "Everybody knows snail mucin is better as a mechanical lubricant."

''This is really school time, since I'm work-ing!''

"Don't hesitate to ask for help. Project's more fun in groups."

''Ms. Moissan thanks Regulus' wait what''

"Huh? what?" Regulus says. "Oh well everybody loves music and food. Tamamo's got a real heart of an artist."
Tamamo     'They're also pushing for *more* political violence towards and from arcanists, not less.'

    Hmm. "I may have thoughts to share, on that matter, at a later point." Then, "'Madam Z'?"

    Tamamo blinks in surprise at Tamiel offering up her 'feathers,' but decides that that must be fine, if she's fine with it.

    'Poggers...'

    Probably some space age word. Though Arthur is a mage of space, and Tamamo isn't sure she's heard him ever say it.
Tamiel Luxis     She'd had her feathers grabbed before--usually abruptly, often without asking, and without realizing that it would hurt. She was surprised at that. "Yeah, my other wing got--" Shot. "--Hurt."

    Once Sotheby had her fistfull and got to talking, Tamiel got less and less antsy. "Sunbeams..." Tamiel murmured, looking up at the sky. "That makes a kind of sense..." She'd been right to ask. It put her at ease. "There's a certain connection with light. There's a reason they look like this..."

    "Well it's rude to call you a material, miss."

    "As long as you remember that, I'll remember to bring some of my castoffs. Deal...?"

    "And here I thought you'd begin expositing about their incomparable cultural value. What a pragmatic surprise."

    "I mean...I use them for a lot...But I don't need all of them. And these will grow back pretty quick." She rubs at the back of her neck, "Anyway...To the--" --Don't say multiverse-- "--rest of the world, I'm just some weird magic girl who can fly. Why be weird about it."

    "I'm more worried that they might not be the type that'd work," she confides. "I'm usually not what people expect. Imagine if I talked them up...And they couldn't even help her?" She scratched at her arm.

    "...If they have a lot of good arcane sensors, I might have trouble sneaking around the Walden. If they're smart--and they are--they'll have put some there." Her anxious frown had turned thoughtful. "That doesn't mean there's nothing I can do, though...If nothing else, I can slip in with someone else's shadow."
Ein The TOAD PILLOW PULPER (not actual name), Sotheby's custom toad-squishing device, is operated as Sotheby walks past it carrying the vial in one hand. Pausing by the table-mounted object, she spins and spins and spins and SPINS the crank round and round to a great and gear-multiplyingly marvelous amount, creates motion throughout her device. A large cog turns, the odd pillows come together and there's a kind of very-offended-toady squonch that extends like a wrung out cloth. When she hits a clicky catch at the end and the wheel starts spinning the other way back to reset, it takes a breathless (for all those on Team Mr. Toad) moment for the pillows to part before it is revealed:

A now pretty agitated and far less slimeful toad (for it has been smushed of slimefulness within and without) woozily presses body against the glass exterior.

Underneath the body of the device is a receptacle that dispenses a full and stoppered vial of premium toad gall with a mucal cap of slime. Truly, the sort of thing every little girl needs for the perfect treat (or potion).

"For the amount of snail I'd need to replace the amount of toad I squish, I'd actually be forced to use a lower quality product? The trick, as they say-" Sotheby, continued on towards an array of burners and beakers, pours out more of the potion into her first stage heater and sparks the burner on with a steel right besides. There's a thoughtless pulling-dishes-from-cupboard flow to Sotheby's motion, completely at home within the space. With a wiggle of a flourish, she finishes: "Is in the toad." to absolutely fitful giggles and bouncing of hatplume.

'She's got you there.'

Moissan, giving Lilian a look that develops in flight, moves from 'oh please don't validate this' to 'wait, you?' to an accepting 'it is what it is', the field agent nods and suggests, sotto voice. "She's also still got some daylight break time left before supper. But don't tell her." She shares, and straightens with a smile to hide lower face behind closed book.

After a moment she lowers it, looking to Sotheby with a question: "Do you have enough, miss Sotheby?"

"Oh, more than." She assures, before pouring out more into a glass bowl and then getting a pinch of red clay from a pull-out drawer of little dry bags of earths and minerals. Next, into another spot, a pinch of quartz...

"Interesting viscosity -- and wow! It got rain-bow-y touching the quartz, it might have a strong to a mineral force..."

The 'huh what?' from Regulus gets a thin smile from Moissan. "They do, but, yours worked. Karson's plan only works with crowds of twelve, not two thousand. It was a problem we couldn't solve ourselves."
Odette Raskins "Ideally, we can use agents who they don't already know of, though."

"That's the part I'm worried about. Just about everyone else here could probably hold their own in a fight, but..." Odette pauses, glancing around at the many Elites gathered and then over at the local arcanists. "Besides Miss Moissan if they don't have eyes on everyone coming in and out of here, I don't know if anyone here is really... Er. Subtle enough?"

"Some of us are really hard to miss even in a crowd-" She says, trying not to look at Tamamo or Tamiel, "-some of us still have our faces out there on merchandise-" She says, trying not to think too hard about all the posters and figures in her room, "-and the ones that don't... Um. They're probably known already as working in the Foundation or around them."

"They've already solicited me to join, after all."

Although Odette doesn't look surprised about hearing that, she does still frown deeply at that. "That makes sense, but... There's already people we know working with them, so it'd feel kind of-" She purses her lips, visibly searching for the words in her head and having trouble putting it all together. "Cruel... To all of you? I-I don't know. I just don't like it.."

"but so is figuring out a way to make that difficult job easier."

"Right? It's hard the first time, but then knowing how to do it quickly every time after that is just so...!" Odette finishes that thought with a little fist pump at her side, looking over at Regulus afterwards to see if she understands the feeling of satisfaction she's trying to show with that gesture and grunting noise.

"...From Sotheby."

Luckily for Regulus, Odette's only hint of confusion at what she says is at the pause rather than the content. Even with the visible age difference, the EMT seems more intent on learning rather than protecting her ego one bit here. "That'd be great! I-I mean, if Sotheby's got the time for it. There's all sorts of cool plants and things here I've never even seen before. Knowing what they do and how to use them sure would be a huge help if we're going to be out here for a while, you know?"

Naturally, that means she's listening closely and even taking notes when Sotheby begins her potion ingredient lesson! Said notes have a lot of question marks, but she's focusing more on getting the notes down for now instead of immediately thinking about follow-up questions that could probably be answered with a bit more time.

Moissan's lesson gets plenty of attention from Odette, too, along with yet more notes being taken about the creatures in the bog. She nods quickly at the suggestion to leaving the bog alone at night, though, as her curiosity does actually stop short in that specific area.

"if you take no more than is there to be taken in health, you are doing us a favor."
"You are doing me a favor."

"I see, I see. Hehe. Thanks, Miss Moissan!" Odette is totally going to take a few clippings in moderation, but not without getting a closer look at all the assorted plants, greenery, and other colorful leaves and parts first. There's so much to look at, after all, and she wants to make sure she gets a good spread of things rather than taking too many samples of the first few plants she sees and not having enough room for anything else.
Odette Raskins "Which means that this is really school time, since I'm work-ing!"

That, too, gets a head-turned-away snicker from Odette even as she gets hit with a wave of sympathy for Moissan. After turning back around, though, she follows Sotheby over to the beaker stand, watching again as she works with that angel feather and... Sniffs the vial?

That has Odette inhaling sharply with a notable look of concern on her face, only relaxing when it's clear that Sotheby doesn't seem to be keeling over or getting drunk off of it. She nearly chokes on nothing when Sotheby asserts that there's nothing lethal in it, and she quickly digs around in her medical case to keep some vials of antitoxins and emetics ready at a moment's notice.

"I've solved the biggest problem, and you'll see, it's ve-ry clev-er!"

Except for one thing, anyway: "Er... What's the biggest problem? The squishing part, or the... Um. Does it make getting them into the squisher easier?" Odette asks, just a little wary of what the squishing process entails. Sotheby's still a kid, so surely it wouldn't be too gruesome! Right?

That question is quickly answered when Sotheby brings the toad to the TOAD PILLOW PULPER. Just seeing it does help relax her a little, even if the sound it and the toad makes get her hairs standing on end again. She doesn't turn away from the spectacle, though, leaning sideways to get a better look at the vial of premium toad gunk.

Sotheby's gigglefit even manages to reinfect Odette before long, drawing another relieved chuckle out of her and a brief gut laugh. "Mister Toad does look pretty uncomfortable, but I'm sure he'll be okay. Does the rainbow-y-ness mean it's better for certain kinds of potions?"
Timekeeper "Letting things get more violent and having more people yelling at them to do their jobs just sounds like creating way more work for themselves."

    Belatedly, Vertin asides to Odette in a tone a little bit like she's reciting paraphrased from a book she'd read. "The violence of the underclass provides justification for a crackdown in retaliation, regardless of the causes of that violence. As the police are already primed to be 'looking for' a violent arcanist, each instance they see validates their beliefs in a way that hardly needs external manipulation."

    Sonetto's take is slightly different, but she says it as if she's in agreement with Vertin. "It is likely that no individual officer is aware of the Manus involvement in the politics of the city of Chicago. From their perpective, they are seeing radical acts of terrorism being perpetrated by arcanists, and are doing their work to the best of their ability already."

"Though it would go a lot faster if I didn't have to hunt down everything."

    "You're right. I'll see what I can do." Vertin is, uniquely, not only a boss that can make requests of Regulus, but a boss that Regulus can make requests of in turn! There's other Watch suppliers she can contact directly rather than asking Regulus to both build and supply her own materials.

"Some people say 'freedom isn't free'."

    "It's certainly not something to take for granted." She doesn't want to get into an argument with Lilian! But they can't just ignore Lilian projecting disdain towards their underling's entire schtick. "Still, voluntary cooperation and hard work go a long way."

"Let's just not leave it until the last minute, shall we?"

    "I'll update you within the week," Vertin says agreeably, buoyed by the comfortable momentum of the impromptu planning. "It's possible that the Vice President will want the FDMO involved as well, despite their lack of affiliation with the Field Agent Administration. I'd like to preempt the order by asking first."

"Now why in God's name would I do that?"

    Vertin is dimly confused in turn, and then blinks and readjusts. "No, I only meant that advocating on my behalf to Laplace might draw negative attention towards you. It's rare that anything I do is... 'politically untainted'."

"Well, I'd hate to hurt you after *just* meeting you, and seeing as now I know an angel, I won't be so desperate for every plume and pinion!"

    Sonetto's opinion of Tamiel's willingness to be treated as livestock is impossible to read, but it lies somewhere approximately between 'approving' and 'confused'. She tries to resolve this unnameable feeling in herself by addressing Tamiel. "Are you... often putting the arcane properties of your body to use in such a way?"

"After a good squish everything Mr. Toad has for me will be mine, and then I can finish my latest batches before bedtime!"

    At first, Sonetto was nodding along with Sotheby's explanation, saying, "It has been several years since I have had any cause to use alchemy, but as a thickener, I recall powdered feltwort to have introduced a bitter taste, and so..." but the toad squisher makes her pause. Surpisingly sentimental, she winces and tentatively asks, "Is it... necessary, to harm the toad?"
Timekeeper "You are doing me a favor."

    Lightly, Vertin bobs her head, suitcase opened to its starry void on the table. "I'd hoped she'd find it interesting. Her potions from the last 'party' made quite an impression."

    The greenhouse is, far beyond any particular tactical need to be here, just an excellent place for Vertin to exist in. While Sotheby is still mucking around with angel feathers and toad smooshers, Vertin wanders a short ways away from the group to admire the greenery, crouching down and delicately stroking her finger along a leaf. Standing up, she presses a hand to her hat to hold it in place while tilting her face all the way up to scan the upper perimeter, orbiting the outer edges of the group before circling back with a very small smile and feeling no pressing need to express any thought besides to Moissan, "It's a gorgeous indoors to exist in."

"The trick, as they say- Is in the toad."

    The sheer relief evident on Sonetto's face when the toad survives its gruesome ordeal is such that she sighs and then inadvertently laughs at Sotheby's joke. She covers her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking slightly. "Ah, ahaha... yes, it is. Should I replace the toad back outdoors now?"
Lilian Rook     'That 'Fifth Code' Sonetto was talking about, it's like what a union would say.'

    Lilian has heard the word 'union' twice now, which she has always been raised to views as something nearly equivalent to an exceptionally foul curse word, and taught not to repeat. It also sounds like a word she'd get shouted at her over some kind of vague economic bogeyman situation that just sort of unfairly popped out of nowhere and implicated her for nothing sensible.

    Lilian, who overpays her 'employees' while also housing and feeding them, hoping to tear down the established ruling class of the City, out of vague paranoia about being unionized against now, frowns and says, "There's no union. Don't be ridiculous. Nobody would write a code for something so silly."

    'Well the best thing about freedom is you can complain even if it's part of the deal.'

    "If only you had a PR manager."

    'I'm just some weird magic girl who can fly. Why be weird about it.'

    "Indeed. I'm often asking this question." Lilian says, certainly not speaking about herself. "And yet, the ones behaving so strangely never seem to have a good explanation, nor do they ever diminish in number."

    '...If they have a lot of good arcane sensors, I might have trouble sneaking around the Walden.'

    "I'd consider it beyond the realm of wishful thinking to assume that they don't." Lilian sighs. "If they value arcane history and 'pure-bloodedness' so much, then it's only naturally they'd have many individuals accustomed to magic and its use, and likely able to sense it intuitively. Even if they're nowhere near the level of the SPDM curriculum, you're not trained to conceal it at all." she says, presumptuously, but ostensibly out of serious concern.

    'She's also still got some daylight break time left before supper. But don't tell her.'

    "I'd hate to solicit her professional consultation on a school day and have it not even count as a practical lesson." Lilian says.

    'Interesting viscosity -- and wow! It got rain-bow-y touching the quartz, it might have a strong to a mineral force...'

    Also, she feels sorry for a sunny bright thirteen year-old girl, calling this all a 'potion party', for being squeezed for a forensic analysis of the evil bad guy juice.

    'Besides Miss Moissan if they don't have eyes on everyone coming in and out of here, I don't know if anyone here is really... Er. Subtle enough?'

    "Excuse you. I'm professionally trained." Lilian says, in tones of offense. "It'd behoove you not to put me on the same level as you people." By which she means the Watch, who are surely not at all very good at clandestine activity. Never mind the fact that she's kind of famous, very well known to the Concord, and practically requires a gun to her head to take off that hairpin.

    'Cruel... To all of you? I-I don't know. I just don't like it..'

    Lilian seems momentarily taken aback, and then as the offended toad ribbits, she decides to scoff a Odette's gut feel instead. "I've no idea what you mean. If you can't convey your reservations in a concrete and sensible way, then I'm afraid there's no point in trying to address them."
Lilian Rook     'It is likely that no individual officer is aware of the Manus involvement in the politics of the city of Chicago. From their perpective, they are seeing radical acts of terrorism being perpetrated by arcanists, and are doing their work to the best of their ability already.'

    Hypocrite that she is, Lilian maintains her perennial 'vaguely anti-cop' position on nothing more than gut dislike of the guys she had trouble with when she was younger. "Sadly, that'd be a worst case scenario." she says. "Though not unlikely; no individuals being aware of the true scope of who is provoking them makes it difficult to source intelligent on Manus Vindictae through loose ends." She feels like saying anything further about the confirmation bias towards the rebellious and irrational underclass will just devolve into her shadowboxing with Mesmer Jr. Which makes her mad, for some reason.

    'I'll update you within the week'

    "Then I'll keep my schedule open." she says, pleasantly enough, glad for the change of subject and positive confirmation. "You want to ask Miss Bouanich on your own initiative? For divinatory support, I assume?"

    'No, I only meant that advocating on my behalf to Laplace might draw negative attention towards you.'

    Lilian tilts her head. "Did I stutter?" she says, without the usual menace. "I'm not out here singing Rita Ma's praises during shareholder meetings or waxing rhapsodic about Sonetto's faith at a Buddhist temple. Team Timekeeper and Laplace . . . that's that and this is this."
Regulus Regulus has no idea how much Lilian pays her employees at Trídéag. As far as she knows, Matilda and Sonetto get paid in... ADVENTURE! "Uh..." Regulus hesitates. "I mean, whether they stick to it is one thing, but that's sort of... the key component of a functionining union..."

''For the amount of snail I'd need...''

"Oh sorry, sorry, didn't mean it as ideal for potions, I wouldn't know there, love." She smiles, though at Sotheby's theatrics and sense of drama. She doesn't want to distract the alchemist from her potions. They can get a bit ... explodey.

''It was a problem we couldn't solve ourselves.''

Regulus, initially a bit suspicious, perks up. Someone from the Foundation that SONETTO holds in high regard is complimenting her plan! Ha ha! "Well any rockstar's gotta know how to turn a crowd! You never know if they're gonna start out booing but you gotta get 'em cheering by the end of the night or you'll have to dodge some bottles, that's for sure."

Regulus returns Odette's fistpump with a thumbsup but doesn't have the heart to tell her that for her the biggest satisfaction is getting a 'well done' from Vertin. That is, in some ways, the big fuel driving her alchemy right now. Someone's gotta look after her, after all. Besides Sonetto. It's a two person job, Regulus affirms to herself.

''That'd be great! I-I mean, if Sotheby's got time for it.''

Regulus somehow feels a little sad but also impressed at the same time and this results in her quickly pushing her shades back up again like she's afraid the complicated emotion will be noticed if she shows off her eyes. "She's a glutton for good company, love. I'm sure she'd happy to rope you in on group projects."

''I'll see what I can do.''

"Oh! Marvy! Yeah, I'll give you a copy of the supply list APPLe wrote up." Regulus dictated it but APPLe wrote it. His handwriting is better.

She naturally bobs her head seriously at Vertin's words to Lilian. Gotta back up her captain! "Right you are, captain." She pauses, realizing she has used her own personal sense of the dynamic out loud but just moves on ahead.

''Should I replace the toad back outdoors now?''

"Mr. Toad's gotta work on getting all slimy again." She looks over to Vertin and adds, "Laplace is over the moon with her. Don't think it'll be so easy for her to get given the cold shoulder." to try and reassure them though, of course, between the two of them Vertin is decidedly the expert.
Ein Despite the initial potential for this potion party to be a party in only name, when Moissan closes the door behind everyone and Vertin ducks off to inspect the sprawls and piles and climate zones, the warmth of the flower zone in the waning sunlight provides just a tiny slice into exactly why this spot was the billionaire bog witch's preferred hammock hang. As the glow of the evening drops to oranges and richly vibrant purples, the sunrooming areas are filled with green-dappled gold and winter blooms in the climates under glass.

Moissan makes good on her words to Sotheby and certainly wouldn't ask the young lady to walk across the entire property for supper. A cold cooler is opened, a small larder available even here with some cold food set in the ice chest. With all the storage space there's room enough for samples, even, but right now there's cold sandwiches and cheese, cucumbers and white onion slices with dark breads butters and jams set aside in various crocks. Pitchers of water are next out, placed around the spread of tables and work-areas that aren't being used as work space or luggage areas. There's plenty enough for a working dinner out in the field - and Sotheby is hard at work!

"Even if you're a special kind of angel, aren't you an angel?" Sotheby asks Tamiel, faintly confused. "Not that I'm the auth-ori-ty on the heavenly host, but I was l~ead to believe the floating wheels of eyes were more giving with their feathers. Ha! Sotheby doesn't *need* any scary floating wheels. Sotheby has party friends! She sound so self assured at this, as if her fancy party friends were answering Life Problems and not showing up to give her the gift of modern tear gas from 1999 and party favors for children 70 years early to change the course of history.

The actual thing Vertin did and then bailed to get her flower power on was of course radical badical but that was just Vertin's Timekeeper Flow.

The real thing that Moissan finds, among all potential items, is a slightly dusty record player, which she disappears the record for and waves Regulus over.

"Ms. Regulus, would you like to make this more of a party... than it already is?" Moissan asks, correcting at the end with a faint smile. It seemed something kind to do, and also, a new record was still a luxury for those not in the immense billionaire class of infinite wealth generation.

As for the matter of Mr. Toad...

"Harm the toad?" Sotheby asks, wounded while the potion distills and percolates through one bubbler and through a hose. She observes color while adjusting preburner to a higher temperature to push more reagent through the tubes, adding a third heating element and pinching in with a pair of tweezers to pick at a small rock-speckle at the bottom of a small catch-cup. Rummaging through drawers for a jeweler's glass, Sotheby inspects the small burn lump while the potion runs through her distiller.

The toad is safer with the device, believe me! The glands are expressed through these nubs inside, clever things that push up and down - both sides! - and pinch the toad in the two proper places for the kindest squeeze! Hurting the toads would make them hop off rather than just play games in the bog. A little bog bribery and we'll be best friends, won't we?"

The annoyed frog seems to just return the cheery question with an annoyed burp. Sotheby is capable of taking that as friendship.

Let Mr. Toad go after supper! Regulus is right, that way, some of the natural slime will return and he'll be ready for the bog once more! It's okay if you want to hold Mr. Toad, though, I know he doesn't like the squisher. I don't suppose I would, either! Hm-hmm!"
Ein Sotheby carries on with her forensic analysis, her splash test narrowing down the particular element that's causing the reaction without reacting the whole container or spoiling the air. With a little more time with her beakers, she starts getting a material charmarks that let her dial in the proper quantities...

But first, it's supper!

"This stuff's impressive. The list must be at least ten - no, fifteen major ingredients. I think there's a master compound as the base, an alchemist's calling card that they cus-to-mize to fit their need, and there's a good six or eight notable ingredients just in that. Then there's probably seven more added on for flavor, body, final color, and... Some side effect handling? It's a lot!"

"I'll write you a prescription! I'm sure it's solveable, after sandwiches.
Tamiel Luxis     "And yet, the ones behaving so strangely never seem to have a good explanation, nor do they ever diminish in number."

    "...A lot of people can't step beyond their world." Tamiel sighed. "No matter where they are. They'd rather think they're still home. And they'll do the things that worked there." She crossed her arms, a dark look briefly overtaking her face. "...And if what worked back home, doesn't work here. It's someone else's fault."

    "Even if they're nowhere near the level of the SPDM curriculum, you're not trained to conceal it at all."

    Tamiel winces. She's not COMPLETELY without pride. "...Which is why it would be best used near arcanists, so they might confuse my magic with theirs, or in places of robust magic that might disorient any sensors...Or to just avoid them entirely and focus on staying out of sight, and moving in ways they might not anticipate to look for. One thing they can't do. Is track and interrogate every spark of arcanum near the Walden. Not when there are so many arcanists there. I know I'd have to be careful, but I'm not stupid about this."

    "Are you... often putting the arcane properties of your body to use in such a way?"

    "...Maybe some of my castoffs?" She says, eventually. "I don't really keep track of where they usually go. But. It's an important thing we've figured out how to use back home. We used our wings to make Vineta fly, for instance." Lilian's reproach at giving speeches about it keeps her explanation halting and awkward.
Odette Raskins "As the police are already primed . . ."
"It is likely that no individual officer . . ."

"That makes sense. Then they'll start looking at every arcanist like that." Still frowning a bit, Odette nevertheless nods slowly at Vertin's explanation while steadily parsing it and eventually nodding towards Sonetto. "Then when they do their jobs stopping the ones that really do get violent, they won't realize they're-mhm, validating that. And then regular people that don't know what's really going on start believing it all, or joining in, just like..."

She trails off for a moment and grimaces like she's just realized something particularly unpleasant.
"... Like that Tulsa thing. Or a lot of people back home."

"Excuse you."
"If you can't convey your reservations . . ."

"Sorry, Miss Rook. I..." Odette blurts out at first, looking and sounding just a bit like a scolded dog before pausing to try and recollet her thoughts. She's been spoken to about this before. She's fumbled a lot of prior conversations through this same problem before, and she's already doing it again. How, then, does she actually get her intent across  clearly instead of leaving it at that?

Stopping to think for a few seconds, first things first. Another inhale, and then she tries to get it all out before her nerves can get to her. "... I didn't mean that you're not good at that kind of work. I'm worried that if they do any research at all outside of here, they'll know that you're already working with the Foundation. A-and with as many friends and co-workers that we have in the Concord, maybe it'd be really easy for them to vouch for you to switch gears and work with them instead."

She pauses again, both to think and to force herself to consider yet more uncomfortable scenarios. "But I don't see that ending in any way that doesn't include you having to break their trust if it comes down to a big fight between the Foundation and the Manus. And if that happens, then... It'd be extra hard for anyone in the Concord to trust you about changing your mind on anything after that. That... That just sucks, for you and for them."

Exhaling softly as she finally gets that out, Odette sounds like she's just sprinted a mile straight despite standing there the entire time. She looks looks almost relieved, then, as Regulus encourages her with that trademark(?) nudge of her shades. If she noticed anything off about her mood at that moment, Odette certainly isn't showing it!

"Group projects... Only if it's okay with her parents. I mean, she's probably more used to handling dangerous stuff than I am, what with the vial thing before, but still." She replies, still holding onto her own vials of medication even though she's mostly certain Sotheby isn't at immediately risk of death from her previous smell test.

She's looking especially relieved when Moissan reveals the food in the ice chest, and she hurries over to offer an extra set of hands for getting all that food and drink set out. It's definitely not an excuse to scope out the offerings up close before picking anything out to eat later.

That will have to wait a little longer, of course, since good manners are still important to maintain in proper company. That means not actually eating before anyone else does, especially the hosts. As long as Sotheby's still working, Odette keeps taking notes, and she's still studying that work with the toad mucus. Although she still doesn't grasp the specifics of what she's actually looking at yet, seeing the heating work and formation  of that little rock inside are considerably more understandable to Odette in a conventional sense.

"Pretty... That'll be worth taking a closer look at after we're done eating, for sure. I wonder if any of my stuff'll react with that..."
Lilian Rook     'I mean, whether they stick to it is one thing, but that's sort of... the key component of a functionining union...'

    "I'll read Marx when you sign up with the Foundation." Lilian huffs, like a wannabe centrist dipshit.

    '...Which is why it would be best used near arcanists, so they might confuse my magic with theirs, or in places of robust magic that might disorient any sensors...'

    "While that's theoretically sound SOP," Lilian says, incidentally paying a strangely high compliment for the small scale of the exchange. "At minimum, I know Vertin and Miss Bouanich, and most likely Sonetto, to be able to distinguish different people by the specific sensory impression their magic creates. While there's no use automatically assuming the Manus Vindictae have people like that posted at the Walden all the time, it's an unacceptable risk to just assume that they don't; verifying one way or the other is also a tremendous task, that amounts to gathering intelligence anyways."

    She considers prompting Vertin to agree that her own 'arcane skill' doesn't leave a signature, but Lilian would actually prefer for Vertin to never think about that again."It's not stupid, per se, but it is volunteering to be up against the wall from the word go. I don't advise starting with any plan that requires you to cross your fingers."

    'This stuff's impressive. The list must be at least ten - no, fifteen major ingredients. I think there's a master compound as the base, an alchemist's calling card that they cus-to-mize to fit their need, and there's a good six or eight notable ingredients just in that.'

    Well. Now isn't Lilian the clown? Or really not, because her objection wasn't so much that Sotheby couldn't possibly be competent enough to manage it (though she had some minor doubts), but that this adorable tween is getting roped into fucking spy vs spy government-gang-warfare by doing this. "Well. I'll do my best to verify all this, but I'm quite impressed at how a fine young lady comports herself at a potion party." Lilian says.

    'I'll write you a prescription! I'm sure it's solveable, after sandwiches.'

    Hm. Is Lilian hungry? Yes. "Oh that'd be lovely!"