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Lilian Rook     There's no particular occasion. Lilian has been working at Laplace Scientific Computing Center (a meaningful distinction from work 'for' them) for two months now. If there can be said to be one, it's that all the stuff she needs from the company building she inherited has been recently moved in, the nature of what her research actually is has started making the rounds, and she has the 8-track DTR from the Voyager 1 space probe locked in her office, which is now sapient or something?

    Realistically, though, the occasion is that she said 'give me your blood' on the radio, and multiple people jumped at the idea, which reaffirms that she was wise to listen to a certain sage on the LSCC internal forums and not put out a general call. It's merely still unfortunate for all of Laplace that Lilian is the type of scientist who actually likes talking to whoever drops by three-quarters of the time and doesn't chase them off like a touchy freak.

    Lilian's office occupies one of the many zones that were partially abandoned over time as the world shrank after each successive Storm. On one of the uppermost floors of LSCC's dazzlingly tall headquarters complex, she's staked out an executive area only one corner or an opened blind away from the atrium promenade. Comprised of a private office room for a desk and personal PC, a small meeting room with a projector, water cooler, espresso machine (brought in), and handy access to a waiting room turned tiny lounge, including (another import) minifridge and flatscreen (likewise), the corner block is really just for project administration and network access. The real floor space is a little further back, which could charitably compared to the interior of a clinic.

    Previously just cubicle space, floor-to-ceiling only nominally demarcate it from the corridor. With the cubicles town down inside, individual computer-squatting space has been aggregated into one for its access to power outlets. Using structural pillars and glass screens as additional wall space, the rest of the block-side is crammed full of machinery like a survival crafter base if someone cared about the neatness of their workbenches. With a CRISPR kit and standing autoclave in one corner, a microscope and burner bench in another, a lab centrifuge here, shelves of testing packages there, and a wall dedicated entirely to alchemical desk space with drawers full of reusable array cards and racks of sealed compounds, it's a bit of a search to actually find the cushy clinic chairs and 'sample collecting' equipment-- all two of themm- between the computer bank and hygeine station.

    Lilian is already busy, wearing her Laplace uniform (in as much as any Laplace uniform is 'uniform') as she deems appropriate, hair tied up in back, four hours into her day. Given that she isn't handling alchemy today, the labcoat is just hung up in her office space. Right now, she's changing out her gloves (after washing her hands somewhat needlessly) and lining up syringes and tourniquets next to separated racks of vials, while blinking servers crunch something that looks a lot like encrypted data from a magnetic reel.
Lissandra Blood donation isn't something Lissandra makes a habit of, personally, but a case like this is a reasonable excuse to break from habit for a little while. She wanted to visit the LSCC generally and hadn't lined up a tour quite yet, and Lilian's goal seemed pretty reasonable to her to boot. It'll take Lissandra a little longer than strictly necessary to actually reach Lilian's office after showing up and announcing herself at the registry desk, since she feels the need to gently hassle whoever's working there for pamphlets, contact information, or whatever else makes it easier for her to get her own proverbial spoon into the mixing bowl in the future.

     But, that won't take her more than probably ten minutes' delay. Afterward it isn't long before she's gently knocking at the office door and calling, "Lilian? It's me." as she lets herself in.

Today she's shown up in her blue felt jacket over a short-sleeved white button-up, a knee-length black skirt, and some dark-brown loafers. She has the bag she's never seen without over her shoulder still, though her wand and staff are stowed away for the moment; she does have an unfamiliar silver-sapphire ring on her right middle finger, and those familiar with that sort of thing might recognize on a close enough look that it's a viable magic-channeling tool as well, but of a lower grade. It's the sort of social gesture that might be compared to exchanging your belt knife for a pocket knife when you don't want to concern anyone.

     Following the faint sounds of work and potentially Lilian's response to her self-announcement, Lissandra steps around the front end of the office, quietly whistling in exaggerated approval at all of the little ammenities Lilian has fit into this not-entirely-private workspace. Poking her head into the once-cubicle area, Lissandra takes a quick look around from a slight distance back, then fishes out a small box from her shoulderbag and gives it a very gentle shake... Which doesn't make much noise, actually. Must be padded on the inside. "Good day Lilian. Cozy in here. I prepared a few vials in advance, but I've limited my self-directed spellwork for a couple of days since. You mentioned wanting to avoid arcane impurities; the only disruption left should be trace effects from my secondary heart, but it should be easy to neutralize after being drawn."

     With all the intensity of someone wiggling a sealed beverage can she asks about the blood samples drawn in advance, "Where would you want these, then?"
Xion Xion didn't know at all that this was a blood drive. Somewhere in the email chain she had lost the thread entirely when it got to Re: Re: Re: Re: Fwd: Re: Find of the Century, but remembered quite a bit ago that Lilian had been working with the Voyager Record with Laplace and then some things happened and she hadn't been back.

So today, when she saw a meeting time and a place, the invasive species of questant just dismissed her phone from grip into inventory and headed to her closet to pull out a black coat.

You know the one.

Exiting from a sworly two dimensional portal of darkness that clings in wet filmy strands that peel off as she escapes the portal orifice and lands while wiggling off the last bits of goop.

"Huh. Kinda gunky paths." The noirette observes dully, heading on in to the impressive Lilian Rook Wing of the impressive(ly) chaotic LSCC to see. . .

Nurse Dr. Lilian Rook, PhD, MD, JD, and probably some other D's as well, minding gloves and syringes. Xion needs a moment to pull down her hood and process, standing in a stunned-blinking look of very slowly progressing confusion.

"Did I not read an email?" She asks, alluding to the truth that she definitely did.
Calvin Nash      Calvin arrives with a purposeful stride in uniform, hat tucked under his left arm. A lot of people jumped at the chance to offer blood. The motive of her work is something that he can get behind, but that isn't the only reason he's here. Some subjects Calvin isn't really knowledgeable on. Some he even admits to a lack of knowledge openly, rather than try and avoid having to admit it as he often does. Some subjects he's quite knowledgeable on. And some subjects, where certain people are involved, draw a certain suspicion. Like Petra and Maids.

    Lilian, he can trust. Lissandra seems trustworthy, too. But there was a lot of interest in this. He can't be entirely certain that there hasn't been any 'thinking,' as he calls it; his particular parlance for behavior which has also been called 'sweaty' or 'leaky.' Lilian and Lissandra will be busy working on something that will genuinely be a net good. Food is stored as data in Calvin's COMP, to give energy after his blood is drawn--he made sure to bring some, that he should have energy to deal with any of the donors here who might feel like 'thinkin' on shit,' as he puts it. Is that an absurd degree of premeditation to put towards something just on the off chance that he might have to assert perceived authority? Yes.

    "It's Calvin," he announces, knocking on the office door with his free hand after Xion does. "Nice office. Want me to take a seat there?" He motions with a sideways point of his thumb towards the waiting area.

Did I not read an email?

    Calvin has heard of emails. "Must have," he says. "She's set up here to take blood. Part of a project she's workin' on long-term to put a dumbass idea that's done a lotta harm to bed."
Timekeeper     Vertin's arrival is heralded by one of her entourage appearing in Lilian's office first ahead of her. 'Appearing' being the operative word, when an email icon slides onto the screen of her computer on its own accord. It waits patiently for Lilian to open it, but since Lilian's busy futzing around in her lab, it gradually becomes impatient, shaking and wobbling with movement inside it, until the envelope flap pops open with the alert 'You've got mail!'

    Vaguely put out, TTT clambers the rest of the way out of the opened icon, envelope disappearing into pixels behind her, and hops to the bottom of the screen. The digital girl pulls off her party hat and noisemaker, dumping them to the side where they similarly vanish.

    Hand on her hip, she pouts, pacing around the screen like she's trying to remember her way around. "Well, darn. I was hoping to have a little celebration for my long-awaited return."

    A minute later, it's Vertin coming through the door of the lab, stowing her (now blank) transponder in the inner pocket of her jacket. They rap their knuckles against the door to announce their presence, but only really as a formality, because they're coming in whether they get a response or not.

    "Afternoon, Lilian. Word came around that you were having guests, and I thought I'd take the chance to drop by.")] Vertin takes a moment to reassess how much science-stuff is happening at the moment. "Or rather than guests, is it volunteers?")]

    Without any warning, the flatscreen flicks on as TTT switches over to it. Waist-height rather than chibified, her indignant expression is much more readable on the larger screen when she crosses her arms at Lilian. "Hey, what was that! Did you make a friend while I was away? Do you like them better than me?"
Aika Rosewater     Giving blood is surprisingly novel for Aika; given her status as 'no one home is really sure what she is so maybe don't put her blood into other people', she'd avoided the average collect, though the hunter cell had on and off performed experiments on her blood to no particular result or success given the lack of expert on the subject.

    But this is for science, not putting into other people!
    Probably.

    And there's no reason to distrust the Dame Commander of all people.

    Getting to visit the LSCC again and, hopefully this time, without anyone's neck getting cut into, is definitely a bonus.

    "Cozy workspace! Reminds me of the family clinic, but classier and better equipped. And in the heart of a bustling megalab, too." That part matters.

    The pink-haired, pink-tailed Aika has elected not to wear her suit's jacket today; the dress shirt, no tie even, having a single button undone, as if that indicated casual over business for her. It's that easy for her.

"I prepared a few vials in advance, but I've limited my self-directed spellwork for a couple of days since."

    "Crap, were we supposed to have already done the samples? Oh, hang on, two hearts? That's rad. You mind if I give that a listen?"

    Aika WOULD invade Lissandra's personal space to push the request if not for Xion popping in, which has her ears perking in that direction before her head turns to glance. "Handy. Wish I could do that. Were there some emails to read though?" No, maybe it's something else, considering Calvin's explanation.

"Afternoon, Lilian. Word came around that you were having guests, and I thought I'd take the chance to drop by."

    If Xion hadn't temporarily saved Lissandra from Aika, Vertin would have. She twirls on a foot to face the Timekeeper swiftly, abruptly, but happily, like it's incredibly important. "Vertin! How's recovery been since the Parsons disaster? Not too many reports to file about it, I hope?"
Swords of Justice      Donating blood for a good cause was never something Shirou thought about doing, but it's something that makes sense. Even if it's not what people normally associate with heroism, actions and work like this save just as many, if not more lives than the more combat oriented stuff he's been focusing on. While he doubts Lilian was specifically trying to make him consider that, he's thankful to her regardless. Though...

     'Give me your blood.'

     Maybe next time, she can try asking in a way that isn't as... Direct.

     Since he offered, though, he shows up, dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and jeans, and carrying a box of sweets. Melon bread, to be specific. She wants a lot of blood, so bringing treats high in sugar to recover seemed like a good idea. They're also leftovers that he wants to get out of the house before a certain former legal guardian gets into them and gives herself a stomachache, so it all works out in the end.

     "Good afternoon, Lilian. Is there any specific prep we have to go through? I assume it's going to work mostly like any other doctor visit, but I thought I should ask anyway."
Foundation Scions     The ever-excelling Matilda Bouanich is totally, totally not regretting that she's committed already to having no less than fifty vials of her own blood, for the noble, selfless cause, of a quite large quantity of sharpodonty. Of course she isn't regretting it! Matilda Bouanich has definitely, never once in her life, been at all afraid of even scary-sharp needles! That's what she's told herself in front of her dormitory mirror, at least.

    No, she doesn't know that 500 milliliters of blood is a fairly standard amount of blood to give. Yes, she's had to give blood before, regularly, as is expected of a St. Pavlov Foundation headquarters employee. It's fine! She's totally not scared!! To showcase how not-scared she is, in the free time she's had around her duties, she's consulted her orbuculum for what she should do to prepare; lots of liquid, iron-having food, and a half dozen gemstone charms to stick in her pocket that are supposed to help with nervousness (which she isn't at all!) and good health.

    "Salut? Ms. Rook?" Matilda appends that statement with a polite doorframe-knock, as she looks into the busy office segment, and then, loud-proud-declarative as she finally steps inside the strange territory of a scientific laboratory, "I am here about the matter of blood!"

    Seeing others she recognizes, especially Vertin, Matilda lets out a little gasp- "Hein?! Timekeeper Vertin! Don't tell me- did your long absence result in you exhausting all of your pocket money..?" That's an absurd thing to say to a recently-returned old acquaintance, but Matilda blurts it out as if it's a note of sympathetic worry anyways, and goes to hover near her.

'Crap, were we supposed to have already done the samples?'

    "Of course, *not*," Matilda answers, because she herself hasn't somehow already drawn her own blood, and she'd never show up without her homework done, right? Surely, her orbuculum would have told her to complete it in advance, alongside to simply drink lots and lots of water!

    "Ms. Rook? Is there, er, an orderly queue that ought to be formed..? This is quite many visitors! I, I volunteer to head the queue line if so, obviously!" No, her hands aren't at her hips in that proud stance of hers because she's nervous and they'd shake a little if they weren't! Her blood's clearly just that good! "I am, the most prepared for this, generous and valuable contribution, so, so, it would make no sense at all to have me wait at the back."

    Then, "The needles are very small, yes?"
Lissandra      Lots of people are showing up! Lissandra un-leans and straightens up, turning to look. Xion and Vertin are unfamiliar, and she doesn't have the secondhand gossip to make assumptions about who they are, so she just gives them each a small lax-fingered wave with her free hand. Calvin gets a friendly "Good to see you Marshal." when he enters, and TTT... Goes more or less unnoticed by Lissandra too, until she shifts her presence into the TV instead of the PC screen, and Lissandra quietly gasps. She just kind of assumed the notification noises were private and wouldn't think to check them herself! Well, unless it persisted for an annoyingly long time maybe. "Oh, you're... Well, that's curious. Are you projecting your presence from afar?"

     Aika's brief interest being ablated by others gives Lissandra an easy way to simply let the question about her extra heart slide off smoothly, but Lissandra does catch the moment Vertin is pinned as 'Timekeeper' by Aika, and swivels back toward her with a pleasant little head-tilt and a palm-up, not-quite-a-point gesture in their direction. "Oh, you're the Timekeeper then? It's a pleasure; call me Lissandra. I'd meant to make your acquaintance eventually after you were mentioned in passing, but I'll spare you more distraction today. Another time?"

     Of course, there's the ever so important Matilda Bouanich, who Lissandra seems relatively pleased to put face-to-name for. "Good to make your acquaintance as well, Matilda." She seems to catch onto her nervousness though, and can't help but gently tease, "I'd suppress the pain for you, but the magical contamination, you see. We'll all just have to grin and bear it..." She makes it sound wistful, like some terrible disappointment that she couldn't be of any help at all. "It looks like some of us came prepared, at least." She gestures at Shirou now, and his box of snackables in approval. She can't tell what Calvin has in his COMP, of course. "Not to worry though. I brought some things of my own, so let's all have a nice time, hmm?"
Xion 'Must have,'

Xion tisks out of the side of her mouth, a click of the tongue and a slide-away of the eyes. "I definitely read my emails." She murmurs like someone who might've skimmed her emails, and then dips her head and lifts hand with a few motes of pale white and singularity-dark coalescing into her phone - her moogle themed phonecase with kupo-nut dangling top deelybopper dangles amongst her cupped hands as she two-hands the scroll.

'Wish I could do that. Were there some emails to read though?'

Xion doesn't look up at Aika to respond. "It's kind of expensive to learn the way I know it." Then she turns her head slightly to look at Aika largely from the sides of her eyes. "You~u. . ." Xion plays out the tone, squinting at Aika and then finishing her thought like she hadn't paused with a rubber band snap of restart: "-don't seem like a Corridors of Darkness type. You could try entering the between from a fairy hedge though, I bet, and move between there, as long as you're okay with thick wilderness and rivers that you shouldn't follow unless you know what you're doing. Well. You probably know why! Maybe?"

Xion peels her right hand off her phone to wobblehand at Aika. "You're giving me hunter vibes?" She 'asks', before her attention goes back to her phone.

"As for the emails... *apparently*?" Xion adds, exasperated as she smacks hand back to assisting the high speed re-read.

Catching Lissandra's wave without looking to see it and returning a distracted one-handed wave back, Xion droops her head even further and picks it up while holstering her phone back in nowhere and ending with fists against hips.

"Okay. I'll admit it." She drops, looks up, and lifts fists into open shrugs. "I totally didn't read the emails. But if you want blood, I'm happy to give you some. And if you want *help* with blood, well, hey, let me think about that. I'm *sure* I've got a power that could help somehow. . ."

Xion assumes thinking posture after that, a foot-tapping half-cross of the arms with thumb to cheek and index finger across and fist pensive-perched in deep finger-curling beatmeasure brainblasting.
Lilian Rook     'Good day Lilian. Cozy in here.'

    "Surprisingly so." Lilian says, over her manual dexterity work. She assumes Lissandra of all people isn't going to mind her not looking up. "At least much more so than that posh building back home. It may be a madhouse, but it's got a certain charm to it."

    She looks up, though, with a little bit of disbelief, at 'I brought my own vials. "Well that's . . . very prepared of you." she says. "Trace impurities from a permanent organ are something I might leave in, actually; half the samples. That's unexpectedly helpful." She then says something about 'trace impurities' that's much too quiet to hear. "Please, in the cooler." she says, gesturing towards a laboratory-grade standing refrigerator.

    Unlike the garish chrome-zeerust that fills most of Laplace, the imported machinery is all paint-striped gunmetal finish with beveled hard angles and a clear glass front with intense white light inside. For some godforsaken reason, every single vial up front, from top to bottom, is labelled 'Soroka, Petra'.

    'Did I not read an email?'

    "Hm? Not unless you want to get paid in sharpodonties." Lilian says, looking belatedly pleased at unexpectedly seeing Xion. "A few people were hard-up and I magnanimously offered them an opportunity better than begging to sweep floors." she says, as if it were somehow natural for her to have a stack of those freak shit coins. "If you want to hang out, that's fine. People swing by just to talk all the time." Lilian says, obliviously. "The vending machine isn't free, though."

    'Nice office. Want me to take a seat there?'

    "Good of you to make it, Nash." Lilian calls over, rounding the corner. "No need. I just use that as a break room. You can sit at the big table if you prefer, though it'd be easier to come 'round to my lab just over here and pull up a seat if you intend to talk."

    'Part of a project she's workin' on long-term to put a dumbass idea that's done a lotta harm to bed.'

    "God don't get me started!" Lilian abruptly exasperates, much like a Laplace researcher. Well, she is dressed the part and all. Frankly, using her Night Mist pendant as a lanyard ornament and that ridiculous use of the classic silver bolero shape in back just makes her blend in more.

    'Well, darn. I was hoping to have a little celebration for my long-awaited return.'

    "Hi TTT." Lilian says, altogether conversationally. "You caught me at a busy time; that's all." Her attention is immediately taken up by Vertin.

    'Afternoon, Lilian. Word came around that you were having guests, and I thought I'd take the chance to drop by.'

    "Indeed. Some of them are even men today." she says, jocular-scoffing for effect. "You're welcome to . . . observe? I can't imagine it'll be very exciting, but I admit that it's a relief to see you free of the Foundation's whipcracking for a day. God knows circumstances haven't exactly contrived to make them leave you alone lately."

    'Hey, what was that! Did you make a friend while I was away? Do you like them better than me?'

    Lilian stares at the flatscreen, noncomprehending. She's gotten more used to TTT's screen-jumping, but . . .

    "What was what? Practically everyone here is new; you'll have to be specific." she says. Then she decides to tap her lower lip with the plunger end of a syringe, like she's trying to decide if she does like someone here more than TTT, teasing.
Lilian Rook     'Cozy workspace! Reminds me of the family clinic, but classier and better equipped.'

    "Oh my, Rosewater too? Your enthusiastic turnout is humbling." Lilian says, meaning 'heartwarming', probably. 'Better equipped' makes her glance at her mortars and alembics across the glass divider first, then at the autoclave next, silently trying to make up her mind about what that meant. "--Oh? Your family runs a clinic? I had no idea."

    'Good afternoon, Lilian. Is there any specific prep we have to go through? I assume it's going to work mostly like any other doctor visit, but I thought I should ask anyway.'

    "The man of the hour." Lilian says, gesturing with a facetious little wrist-roll. "I'm glad to see that you're taking your finances seriously." Chat she doesn't know. "Not particularly." she says, then amends. "Wash your hands, actually." Then, "I'll have you fill some paperwork about your history of magic use and notable past diagnoses, but that can come in any order. I'm perfectly capable of figuring out most of it from samples. Now, if you'll sit--"

    'Hein?! Timekeeper Vertin!'

    Lilian notices Matilda only then, as evidenced by "Oh, Miss Bouanich. There you are. You're right on time, though I'm afraid it's a bit crowded right now."

    'Ms. Rook? Is there, er, an orderly queue that ought to be formed..? This is quite many visitors!'

    "There are two chairs." she says, nonspecifically. "Seeing as you were the two who have negotiated quantities, you and Emiya can take your places first. The rest of you cand discuss amongst yourselves."

    'The needles are very small, yes?'

    Lilian glances down at the syringe in her hand, then very unhelpfully flips it between all of her fingers in sequence and tosses it up into a triple rotation, reverse grab, and thumb flick to rest between her index and middle fingers. She stares at Matilda the entire time, clearly just zoning out. "Oh. Hm? They're the usual size. Don't worry."
Lilian Rook     'Oh, you're... Well, that's curious. Are you projecting your presence from afar?'

    "She's a digital girl in a digital world." Lilian answers automatically.

    'I'd suppress the pain for you, but the magical contamination, you see. We'll all just have to grin and bear it...'

    "Who do you take me for? You couldn't expect anyone better at handling sharps, you know." she says, to Lissandra, and not Matilda.

    'But if you want blood, I'm happy to give you some. And if you want *help* with blood, well, hey, let me think about that. I'm *sure* I've got a power that could help somehow. . .'

    Lilian stops doing everything for a second.

    "I have no clue whether that'd be helpful or not." she admits. "We could try just one or two and see?" Frankly she's pretty sure that if she looks at Xion's blood serum under a microscope she'll see gummi ships doing barrel rolls through little red blood cell-shaped candy rings.
Timekeeper Part of a project she's workin' on long-term to put a dumbass idea that's done a lotta harm to bed."

    "I see. I haven't had a chance to hear much besides the barest details of her research myself yet." Vertin offers a gloved hand to Calvin to shake. "You're an associate from offworld, then? I'm Vertin."

    Meanwhile, TTT seems to sense something about Calvin that makes her a little antsy in a hard-to-pin-down way. She fusses with her hair to neaten it out with her hands, then pops a chair like the ones in the lounge into existence on the TV screen, sitting down on it and leaning forwards like she's joined in the circle. Elbow on her knees, she's-- wait, did she manifest glasses, too?

    "Ooooohhh... looking for the truth like that's a hard job, don't you agree?"

"Oh, you're... Well, that's curious. Are you projecting your presence from afar?"

    TTT sits upright in her chair on the screen, pressing her hands together. "Nope! I'm TTT, I'm projecting from right around there." She points down and to her right, and a red dot flashes a couple times on the hardware of the TV. Moving on from that topic quickly, she instead latches onto Lissandra as a conversation target. "So you've got two hearts, huh? Anything happen to the first?"

"How's recovery been since the Parsons disaster? Not too many reports to file about it, I hope?"

    Vertin gives Aika a dip of their chin, which from them feels under the same umbrella of positivity as a smile. "Nothing I can't handle. Discussions for the Foundation's involvement in the future of the Psychogate Project are still ongoing, but that's a responsibility I'll gladly take on. Have you healed well?"

"Don't tell me- did your long absence result in you exhausting all of your pocket money..?"

    Habitually, Vertin steps out of the way of the path between the front door and the laboratory entrance, just in case Matilda charged right through without looking. Back against the desk, they rest one palm against the edge of it, posture easing incrementally-- this, also, is similar to a smile. They shake their head.

    "I wasn't even aware she was collecting blood samples. It only makes sense that she'd compensate you for your assistance, though. Is that why you're here?"

"I'd meant to make your acquaintance eventually after you were mentioned in passing, but I'll spare you more distraction today. Another time?"

    Since Vertin really is just kind of hanging out, there's very little distraction for them to have. Accordingly, they take stock of Lissandra's pre-prepared vials and general atmosphere and guesses, "Are you here to help with Lilian's work? I'd be happy to chat whenever we're each free for a spell."
Aika Rosewater Shirou.

    "Oh it's you!" Aika's got energy, don't mind that TOO much. "You're the kid whose dad shoved an artifact in, right?" Hadn't met him! Had only heard him a few times. What a terrible thing for her to recall specifically, but it's very distinctive of his identity. "You brought sweets! We!" She slides into his periphery, hand over a shoulder and all; nevermind that she's taller, she's leaning down a bit to be at level. "Are absolutely going to get along."

    Because of bringing treats?

"Of course, *not*,"

    Oh, phew. Aika grins and lets out a sigh of relief, before realizing who answered her. She splits from Shirou in an instant, attention wholly consumed by Matilda. "Oh! Oh oh oh!! The illustrious Matilda Bouanich, in the flesh!" She means it sincerely. "If I'd know I'd have brought a little something or another to thank you for the welcome all those weeks ago." Are the needles small? She can't imagine so, and she's about to say as much until--

"You're giving me hunter vibes?"

    "Yep! Oh, manners. I'm Aika, pleased to meet you." Gloved hands on her hips, she sizes Xion up in turn, but she's hardly got material to make guesses in return. "And yeah, I know about fae stuff. I'm not an expert, so what I know is more superstitions and warnings than experience. For better or worse I haven't run into any yet, nor had the chance to borrow their passages to zip around." She'd certainly try it though. Once or twice! "Are you one too then? A hunter, that is."

"Oh my, Rosewater too?"

    "Aika," she corrects almost instinctively.

"Your family runs a clinic?"

    "Mhm. Not as a trade though. Necessity, more like. Cells like to be self-sufficient. You want an in-house clinic or hospital type place to treat the scratches and bruises of the job. It's rudimentary, and we tend to have to resort to outside specialists for weird stuff, but it works. Probably work a lot smoother if there wasn't such a resistance to new tech, but I make up for it somewhat, what with being able to share my healing."

    Now the thought occurs to her that she's surrounded by at least two, maybe three, people who'd all be able to be called upon the next time someone gets injured by some supernatural shenanigans they have no idea how to treat.

    "I'm *pretty* sure there's at least one medical license involved, for what it's worth. If there isn't, no one's complained."

"Have you healed well?"

    "Yep yep!" Aika confirms, executing another twirl on her foot leading into a handstand, from which she continues addressing Vertin like it's normal. "I could've gone without picking glass out of my skin for several days, but hazards of the job. All in all we got off pretty easy thanks to your quick thinking. You and that Ahn girl. So, thanks."

    Zero thanks for Rufus, though.
Lilian Rook     'I wasn't even aware she was collecting blood samples.'

    "I wasn't until just recently." Lilian says. "Then I saw the opportunity and took it; as any genius does." She smirks a little about it. Forget that 'it' is taking financial advantage of teenagers. "I considered a general drive open to Laplace, but . . ." She glances back at her PC. "I was advised against it." Her eyes narrow.

    'It only makes sense that she'd compensate you for your assistance, though. Is that why you're here?'

    "Naturally." Lilian answers for Matilda. "She even tried to haggle me up, over the value of her prestigious pureblood line and all." she says, casually and thoughtlessly damning.

    'I see. I haven't had a chance to hear much besides the barest details of her research myself yet.'

    "My focus of research, as I've mentioned, is in my worlds 'Human Template Origin' theory. I've explained the gist a few times before, but I can summarize it as a scientific interest in why human biology changes in response to increased ability to utilize magic, why magical competence can be predicted by biological markers, how it relates to the commonality between non-human users of magic and humanoid form being associated with age and accumulated power, and how magical compatibility can be induced or elevated through human alteration." Lilian rattles off, all at once.

    "My theories, in as far as what makes them unique and superior to the others, are that even if a singular, transcendental, human 'ur-form' exists at the theoretical pinnacle of magic, refinement and iteration of the modern human form, in all of its infinite minute variations, can't realistically be achieved by attempt to decrypt that ur-template from the information we have available, nor from brute forcing our way there through massive investment into trying to find every single correlation between biological sacred geometry and other patterns of significance in different arcane fields."

    "What I intend to prove is that the variant strains of human compatibility or incompatibility with magic aren't a form of chaotic 'degeneration' through genetic entropy, but that they represent variations on variations of naturally divergent archetypes that were at one point coextant and coequal with merely different attributes; and because of that, research on the subject can't productively progress without accepting the existence of multiple viable 'paths' that different between individuals, and, more importantly, which individuals can be subconsciously aware of, or else become so through experimentation, and thus capable of advocating for their own refinement process."

    She huffs, all of a sudden. "The evidence is obvious and compelling, but dismissed for its lack of volume and breadth. So I'm going to make a lot of people look very stupid and tank their stock value for not listening to me."
Lilian Rook     'You're the kid whose dad shoved an artifact in, right?'

    "Don't say that." Lilian abruptly pivots topics, narrowing her eyes. "I told him not to say that already."

    'For better or worse I haven't run into any yet, nor had the chance to borrow their passages to zip around.'

    "You're better off." Lilian sighs. "Any still around are the sort that don't fuck around. If I never see the Sisters again, it'll be too soon."

    'Mhm. Not as a trade though. Necessity, more like. Cells like to be self-sufficient. You want an in-house clinic or hospital type place to treat the scratches and bruises of the job.'

    She pauses to process her thoughts on that. "So, they're back-alley doctors. Like the sort that treat hitmen and terrorists and the sort."

    'Probably work a lot smoother if there wasn't such a resistance to new tech, but I make up for it somewhat, what with being able to share my healing.'

    Lilian frowns. Sixty percent of LSCC would approve of her doing so. Forty percent wouldn't like that.
Foundation Scions 'Good to make your acquaintance as well, Matilda.'

    "Hm! Yes, of course it is! You are welcome!" Matilda isn't too nervous to beam like a fool. "Wait, what do you mean, you fear contamination..? Surely, something to block pain, it would not, no? Ach, aïe, I see..."

'It only makes sense that she'd compensate you for your assistance, though. Is that why you're here?'

    "Ah-? No, of course, I am here because it is a noble and selfless task to aid the pursuit of knowledge, and, and to heed the requests of a compatriot! That there is to be compensation, it is obviously of little note!" She looks more nervous saying that lie than she does about the needles. To move on, Matilda quickly adds, "I, I have been meaning to check in on you, Vertin, ever since your return! I, I approve of the fact that you are in fine health! Good job!"

'She even tried to haggle me up, over the value of her prestigious pureblood line and all.'

    Matilda pales, with a squeaky deflating noise. "It, it would be improper not to, of course! It was no act of greed, obviously! I- in fact, we can go back to the pre-haggling compensation scheme, yes, of... ninety-five sharpodonty per vial! I think that was it!" That's not what the scheme was.

    '"Seeing as you were the two who have negotiated quantities, you and Emiya can take your places first.'

    Score one for Matilda! She gets to be first in something! Mumbly, glancing over her shoulders to the others as she goes to hop up on the seat, "Regardez-moi, et apprenez..!"

    Inconviniently for Matilda's shame, if she ever really had any, as she's up and ready to (in her misinformed eyes,) be bled like a stuck pig, and squinting her eyes about it, is exactly when her coworker's clipped footsteps pass over the laboratory threshold. Mesmer Jr., just now putting a stack of papers she'd been scanning over as she walked down at her side, stares into the room full of elites, turns to look down the hall, turns to look at the atrium railings, and enters the room with a sigh.

    Brushing past people, throwing a solitary upturned nose to Vertin, until she's encroaching on Lilian's blood-draw area, Mesmer holds the papers in front of her chest like a shield, to ask "Am I interrupting something?"

    "It's no matter. I have important documents for you, you're to read them as a matter of official urgency; whenever it is you've cleaned your hands up of... this." Matilda stares back at her confused, and a little hurt.

    Mesmer sticks the papers out at arms reach, with an obvious exhaled huff, standing still (save for a tapping foot) so she'll be annoying to ignore, an action that invokes a thousandfold the embarrassment back on herself.
Timekeeper "Indeed. Some of them are even men today."

    "Goodness, how rare," Vertin says pleasantly. Once she's given permission to... watch blood drawings, she doesn't hesitate to slip into the laboratory section, tucking herself out of the way rather than taking a chair. She leans against one of the pillars, steadily unperturbed by the action and preparations going on around her.

    "I can hardly complain. Each time circumstances pile work my way, I seem to make it my mission to triple it by the day's end. It's a miracle how Sonetto hardly seems to notice whether she's scheduling one meeting or a dozen." As a topic of conversation to prompt Lilian to talk through her work, they go on, "Is this related to the subject of your doctorate?"

"All in all we got off pretty easy thanks to your quick thinking. You and that Ahn girl."

    Vertin follows Aika's flip into a handstand with her eyes, but as long as she's comfortably clear of hitting any medical equipment, they don't even seem to think it's inappropriate. Something Aika says, though, makes her quietly purse her lips together, briefly pensive before the expression smooths over again.

    "It certainly could have gone much worse. Thank you for your help throughout that entire week, as well."

"I was advised against it."

    "That may have been wise. They're rather enthusiastic about that here at the LSCC." Vertin says, sounding a little too knowing about that. Casually, they add, "I'd wager that a quarter of my life's calories have been from sweets after a blood drawing."

"She even tried to haggle me up, over the value of her prestigious pureblood line and all."

    Vertin partially hides their mouth behind the back of their hand, the barest corner of a smirk peeking out. "Either the Bouanich family line has to rebuild their reputation in the multiverse, or you're a shrewd businesswoman. Do be careful, Matilda."

"What I intend to prove is that the variant strains of human compatibility or incompatibility with magic aren't a form of chaotic 'degeneration' through genetic entropy . . ."

    As Lilian elaborates about her theory, Vertin's expression sharpens, nodding along. "I see. No wonder Laplace was so willing to provide you resources, then. To restate for my own understanding, the distinction that you're arguing for is between 'bodily perfection' and 'bodily actualization', within the bounds of the Human Template Origin? Fascinating."

"What was what? Practically everyone here is new; you'll have to be specific."

    TTT doesn't have any blood!!! She's worried about something else! In order to get closer to Lilian, TTT bloops over to the screen of the CRISPR machine, shucking off the labcoat that was automatically equipped onto her when she came in from the side.

    She points backwards, towards the private office on the other side of the wall, a little huffy but mostly curious and being a brat about it. "Them! On your desk! The tape recorder! Is my format just too young for you?"
Calvin Nash I am, the most prepared for this, generous and valuable contribution, so, so, it would make no sense at all to have me wait at the back.

    Calvin studies Matilda for a moment, eyes narrowed as he calculates the likelihood that his suspicion is warranted. After a brief but noticeable examination, he silently clears her of ill intent and returns Lissandra's greeting.

    "Back at you, Lissandra. Glad to see you helpin' out."

I totally didn't read the emails.

    "Ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure," Calvin says.

You can sit at the big table if you prefer, though it'd be easier to come 'round to my lab just over here and pull up a seat if you intend to talk.

    Calvin nods. "Might as well," he says. He does take her up on that, pulling up a chair from the waiting room and carrying it one-handed, because of course. He sets it up near the lab, more concerned with being near the others than his spot in line. Calvin ends up setting his uniform's hat on its crown beneath his chair so as to keep it out of the way. It's during this setup that he notices the labels on the vials, out of the corner of his eye, doing an obvious, whole-head-turn double-take.

    "Now, there's a surprise," he says with a scoff, somewhere between annoyed and relieved. Annoyed because he can only imagine Petra's conduct before, during and after; relieved that he doesn't have to be present for it.

    Being cleared to discuss it himself (he wasn't, her directive was 'amongst yourselves'), Calvin makes a general announcement. "Now listen here. Y'all go in whatever order after Matilda and Shirou. But keep your shit together and have some respect for the work," he says, palm thrust out as a pre-emptive shield to deflect anything that annoys or unsettles him personally.

    That done, he lowers his hand and clears his throat, in time to stand up and shake Vertin's hand firmly. "Marshal Calvin Nash," he says. "Southeast Assembly Demon Marshals. These days, a Paladins Chevalier, too. Yep," he says, with an officious sigh, "Had the good luck to be able to work with Lilian a few times now. I heard some good things about you, Ms. Vertin. Maybe we'll get to work together soon, too."

She's a digital girl in a digital world.

    "Oh, huh. Well, nice to meet you too, miss," he says to TTT.

    Ooooohhh... looking for the truth like that's a hard job, don't you agree?

    "Why somethin's hard is just as important as whether it's hard. In my experience lookin' for truth, it ain't that the truth's hidin' so much as it is bein' hidden. You... alright?" He noticed the fidgeting. Lifting the bulky COMP on his arm, "Is it this?"

You're the kid whose dad shoved an artifact in, right?

    Calvin's head snaps towards Aika. Lilian has it covered; he opts to reinforce it by pointing at Aika and tilting his head imperiously.

I have important documents for you, you're to read them as a matter of official urgency; whenever it is you've cleaned your hands up of... this.

    "Mesmer," Calvin tersely scolds, shaking his head after attempting to ignore her and getting annoyed over the foot-tapping.
Lilian Rook     'I- in fact, we can go back to the pre-haggling compensation scheme, yes, of... ninety-five sharpodonty per vial! I think that was it!'

    "Ninety." Lilian autocompletes for Matilda. She looks her over again, pauses, and then decides not to question it. "That's fine with me." Poor Matilda. Her poor allowance.

    'Regardez-moi, et apprenez..!'

    Unfortunately for Matilda, Lilian isn't about to let a little brisk trotting and exasperating sighing from the hall interrupt her. She doesn't even ask her to roll up her sleeve, firmly taking her arm and doing it for her, then applying the torniquet strap herself while pinning Matilda's wrist. The sterilizing gauze swap comes next, then the words "If you feel discomfort, looking away from the injection site can help. Try counting and naming things in the room." followed by "In your head." She doesn't even give her the fakeout countdown; pressing her fingers down on Matilda's skin, the hypodermic needle goes in without warning or room to squirm, as if she were applying field treatment to a wounded soldier.

    'Am I interrupting something?'

    Lilian is in the midst of rapidly switching out a truly distressing number of vials, quickly filling up multiple colour-coded test rasks. Sighing loudly, she replies "Yes." and shakes her head.

    'It's no matter. I have important documents for you, you're to read them as a matter of official urgency; whenever it is you've cleaned your hands up of... this.'

    "Put them down on the meeting desk." Lilian says, waving dismissively towards the closed office. "I'm busy contributing to science right now. I'll read them when it's more convenient." She sounds more interested in Matilda, frankly, commenting unnecessarily "Your blood pressure is very high. Heart rate, too." How can she feel that through gloves, actually? "Did you run up the stairs to get here? You should sit down for a few minutes to let yourself rest first."

    Still ignoring Mesmer, by virtue of having not actually turned around and noticed that she's still there, Lilian removes the final vial, applies fresh gauze, and holds it down herself with one hand. Then she tilts her head, presses the vial to her cheek, and says "Warm . . ." She waits entirely too long before finishing her thought. "Are you sleeping enough? Your thermal regulation is all over the place."

    Lilian looks around for Petra to order her to store the vials, sighs when she remembers she isn't here, and then blinks at Mesmer. "Oh. You're still here?" she says, glancing down at the papers. "Why?"
Xion 'If you want to hang out, that's fine.'

Xion grins and nods. "Well good to know!" She replies, relaxing and rocking on her feet but not moving away. In fact, as she beckons Matilda and Shirou forward, Xion rocks forward into taking a few steps as well, pulling her left arm out of coat and dragging up the dark charcoal grey turtleneck sleeve up her arm. It scrunches deeply at bicep but she pulls to shoulder enough with some difficulty. Even with the powers of a mercenary hero, sometimes cloth didn't work like that!

"I don't really know what Sharpodonties are but if they're payment for your quest, Lilian, I'll mark it complete with a smile. Plus, I'm a little curious! I don't know what it'll look like. I'm sure the Organization knows but I don't read their science screens and orby panels that often because they're so weird compared to normal personal computers."

'Oh, manners.'

Xion nods, angling head back from her presenting-arm pose for her Just One stick from Lilian, not knowing if she needs to use a table or even will be seen to before Shirou and Matilda get exsanguinated.

"I'm Xion." She introduces, sidehanding out a keychain with a golden empty star and spinning it around loosely. Emitting from from the whispering motion of the little links falls a 'sha-sha-sha' of dozens of scrape points added to the random jangle of loose end-charm. "I'm a for-hire hero, since I realized I needed to fight for myself. So, sure, I'm a hunter too. Top rated on several of the pet quest ranked leaderboards, number one on last month's time attack, I--" Xion aims a one handed finger gun at Aika, pulls imaginary hammer back with thumb, and quietly 'pow'-s at Aika with a buck of hastily aimed finger-sidearm.

"--pay for stuff and like to challenge myself. Mostly have to pay for things, though. Existing is expensive!"

'My focus of research, as I've mentioned, is in my worlds 'Human Template Origin' theory.'

"Oh, that makes sense..!" Xion rolls out, a softer but no less convinced form of Roxas' 'Okay, I believe you.' "The more complete a Nobody is, the more magic it gets and the more human it gets. Maybe I'm like this and not more like a weird geometric shapey thing is because this shape's more magic. I never thought of it that way."

In her case, there are more reasons, but also, she cannot discount this isn't one of the reasons! "Maybe my blood will help you figure it out!"
Lissandra      Lilian's manners during work, as expected, don't come into question. If anything Lissandra just showily puffs her chest a little, looking pleased with herself. "I did think a control sample might be of use, if nothing else." She walks to the cooler and opens it up, gently parting the seal with her thumb instead of tugging the door open, to avoid jostling anything. If there are already suitable racks or similar upright unit-storage inside, she'll take the top off her little insulated box and transfer the four silk-couched vials over; they're each already labelled in tiny handwriting on a piece of white tape by name, blood type, time drawn, and the time since her last self-directed spell. She does laugh softly at the remark about the vending machine while she's closing the cooler back up.  "Oh, I'm sure you could do all kinds of things with a needle Lilian. I'm afraid there will be few opportunities for you to show off today, though..." She smirks a little at the little syringe-flipping trick. "Well, maybe not."

     The brief statement about TTT, and the digital girl's own inquiry, prompt a curious little hum while Lissandra's doing her own setup. "I'd normally assume you meant some manner of 'AI', but I'm fairly certain a television can't typically support a thinking being's mind." she says back to Lilian, comfortably slipping into the informal guessing-game she seems to enjoy indulging in, but she doesn't leave TTT hanging for long. "Lissandra. That's a novel technique, TTT. As for my heart, not yet at least. I'd like to keep it that way a while longer, before I resort to fully replacing my own organs." She says 'TTT' like it's some kind of codename, though. Anyway, it doesn't sound like she's as nervous about the idea as she probably should be, but she doesn't sound enthusiastic about it either. "Your expressivity is impressive, given the medium. Did it take you long to learn that, or did it come naturally?"

     Vertin's question is simple, and the answer is similarly so. "She hadn't asked for much in particular aside from the samples. It seems like she has things in hand, but if she wants something, I'm here." Lissandra smiles lightly at the agreement to chat. "Wonderful. It sounds like you've been very busy, so let's make a relaxing time of it when we have the opportunity." The passing remark about Vertin's lifetime calories, though, coaxes a sympathetic sigh. "A bit much, isn't that? They can't be deriving much of use from your blood if they need *that* much of it."

     Aika catches a few sidelong glances when she talks about things like the clinic, or picking glass out of her skin, but Lissandra looses an airy comment at one thing in particular despite not being directly spoken to. "It's deeply frustrating that with all of the various technologies and magicks available in innumerable worlds, most still have their stubborn specialties and reject much of their potential. There are certainly methods that don't pair well with one-another, but..." She waves her hand like she's dispersing smoke. "Even I am attempting to learn more about electronics. It feels a bit silly that more spellworkers don't follow suit. Well, once they've mastered their own arts at least."

She's still only at the level of vaguely understanding what some of the parts in a computer do, though. It's a lot to catch up on!
Lilian Rook     'Goodness, how rare'

    "I don't mind the company, at least." Lilian smiles. It's unclear whether or not she's being dense about Laplace's staff, but surely she can't be entirely oblivious, given the other subject. "And you're correct; it is." she says. "I didn't have any particularly grand ambitions going into it. Originally, I just thoughtlessly chose to do the same thing as my mother. By the time I had been working for the Paladins for a couple of years, I planned to simply finish my doctorate because it'd be a waste not to, but it's come in handy now that I've gained a new appreciation of the subject matter."

    Lilian calls out automatically, "No flips, cartwheels, handstands, or rolls in my lab. If you break or knock something over, I'll snap your bones to match."

    'I'd wager that a quarter of my life's calories have been from sweets after a blood drawing.'

    "I'm going to have to find an excuse to get some red meat into you." Lilian sighs. "You can't just live off that picrasma stuff."

    'I see. No wonder Laplace was so willing to provide you resources, then.'

    "Half of these are mine, and the other half are because of the golden record." Lilian says, putting on her best knowing smirk. "But I'd be a liar if I said there weren't people excited by the topic; and if I told you that I wasn't excited by some of the research going on here as well. The implications and cross-applications regarding arcanist vis a vis human physiology are serendipitously extensive."

    She nods affirmative at Vertin's encapsulation, but builds off it anyways. "I'd compare it to teaching. In pursuing an objectively 'educated' state in your students, you're wasting your time if you simply try to bash all the correct answers in them through trial and error. Investigating how each student individually best absorbs information and teaching them in the way that most effectively builds on their existing partial knowledge is well-known to be vastly more effective." she says. "That's what my tuition paid for."

    'Them! On your desk! The tape recorder! Is my format just too young for you?'

    Lilian stiffens up on a three second delay. The needle pauses, hovering above Shirou's arm. "It's just an old DTR." she starts, then changes courses. "I can't get anything out of it anyways. It's useless to me. So there's no need to worry." she says, evasively.

    'Now, there's a surprise,'

    "Beg pardon?" Lilian stares past Calvin at the cooler, and her expression doesn't change at all. She jabs Shirou without looking back.
Lilian Rook     'I don't really know what Sharpodonties are but if they're payment for your quest, Lilian, I'll mark it complete with a smile.'

    "They're arcanist money." Lilian says. "And horrid little shits too." she adds, without explanation. While working on Shirou, she fishes a coin out of her back pocket-- the one mounted on her slutty little swordfighter belt, laced over her Laplace uniform-- and flips it to Xion backhanded. "Careful. The little assholes bite." She is sooooo not thinking.

    'Oh, I'm sure you could do all kinds of things with a needle Lilian. I'm afraid there will be few opportunities for you to show off today, though...'

    Lilian huffs through her nose, probably good-naturedly. "Well, most of them aren't appropriate for the present circumstance, seeing as I only need a bit of blood." And not, implicitly, enough to kill someone.

    Thankfully, all of the vials behind the front face are different. The entire fridge is not just litres of Petra. Which makes it kind of fucking weird that she organized them by column instead of row. Like, why? What is her system?

    'It's deeply frustrating that with all of the various technologies and magicks available in innumerable worlds, most still have their stubborn specialties and reject much of their potential.'

    "I'm the choir, but you may continue preaching." Lilian says, while sticking bandaids on. "Luddites can be reeducated, but people who lack fundamental curiosity about the world they live in are incurable." She waves in a general direction when Lissandra takes her place at the second seat, apparently trusting her to meet her personal standards. "Emiya, Bouanich; the paperwork, if you please. Let's see . . . I'll take Xion. You can pick yours, Doctor Lissandra."
Swords of Justice      'I'm glad to see that you're taking your finances seriously.'

     "I'm financially stable, I'm doing this more to help than anything." Between already having his house (mansion) paid for by his father, the massive amount of money he left him after his passing, and his own frugal spending habits, he actually doesn't need the cash at all. He can't really fault people for assuming extra pocket change wouldn't help him though, especially since he doesn't act like someone who's rich... Though rich isn't a word he'd personally use to describe himself, even if it's technically correct.

     You're the kid whose dad shoved an artifact in, right'

     There's a certain type of tired in Shirou's eyes that words cannot describe as that old conversation he had almost forgotten is brought up again. He doesn't audibly answer, just inhaling deeply and sighing before nodding as he places the box of melon bread on an appropriate table for others to take from if they want.

     'You brought sweets!'

     "Yeah, it's for the people donating. Try to make sure everyone gets at least one, alright?" Shirou's not sure if Aika is the kind of girl to take half of the sweets before anyone else can even claim one, but life experience tells him that people who get excited like this over food are the most likely to do so. And by people, it's really just one person, but that's probably a fair enough sample size in this instance.

     With the rules on his treats now firmly established, Shirou washes his hands like the good boy he is before grabbing the required paperwork, deciding to get it out of the way now rather than when he's woozy from blood loss. Cold beads of sweat roll down his forehead as he goes over his magical history, and the very recent words of Lilian ring through his head...

     'Don't say that.'

     That is important magical history, though... Should he just omit it or try to rephrase it to sound less bad? He debates with himself for what feels like hours, before just deciding to leave it out. It's not like he's carrying Avalon anymore, and what it probably did to him can easily be summed up with 'Origin: Sword' with several clarifications and explanations. He, however, can't find a good justification to leave out the bit where his early years practicing magic involved him converting his own nerves into crappy magic circuits.

     The rest of the paperwork is really easy though, at the very least, and is filled out promptly.
Timekeeper "I, I have been meaning to check in on you, Vertin, ever since your return!"

    Obviously, Vertin can read Matilda like a book. Precisely because of that, rather than lingering on Matilda's nervousness, she comfortably skirts past it. "Well, you'll want to wait a few minutes after your blood's drawn to make sure you don't get lightheaded. We can catch up in the lobby, then."

"Am I interrupting something?"

    As if fully impervious to Mesmer's uplifted nose, Vertin doesn't even blink at her tone or words. She does, however, silently shift away from leaning on her pillar, standing upright instead and straightening out her hat. "It's a blood drive for research purposes."

"Warm . . ."

    Vertin doesn't blink. It's like she doesn't even notice. In fact, it seems like she's holding her breath-- internally, invisibly, she's desperately hoping Mesmer doesn't comment.

"By the time I had been working for the Paladins for a couple of years, I planned to simply finish my doctorate because it'd be a waste not to, but it's come in handy now that I've gained a new appreciation of the subject matter."

    "Mm? Did something change?" Vertin realizes a second later that-- despite how Laplace tends to view it-- this could be a somewhat delicate subject, and smoothly segues into providing an off-ramp. "Or was it a matter of maturing into your interests over time?"

"I'm going to have to find an excuse to get some red meat into you."

    "I've eaten today," says Vertin, whose caloric budget hardly changed over the week where she was trapped in a survival circumstance farming and hunting for every meal. "It's more a matter of how often they used to take it."

"They can't be deriving much of use from your blood if they need *that* much of it."

    Lissandra commenting on the same makes Vertin hesitate, though. "There were... many reasons, and different departments, that were interested in having samples on hand. I wouldn't say they discovered nothing from it, but there was no golden egg that they could find."

    Something else is still on her mind, besides just that history. Her thoughtful expression lingers a bit longer, and then she begins tugging off her jacket. "You wouldn't mind a last minute volunteer, would you? I won't mind if you're short on sharpodonty."
Aika Rosewater "Don't say that."
"You're better off."

    "Ah-ha, that so?" It's an answer to both statements really! And to Calvin's little motion, too. She'll take Lilian at her word, though she eyes Shirou like she's musing a different thing to recall about him now.

"So, they're back-alley doctors. Like the sort that treat hitmen and terrorists and the sort."

    "In the movies, sure," Aika laughs. "In reality we sure don't have the resources, time, or manpower to treat anyone but ourselves. It's for in-house use only. Exceptionally for 'friends and allies'. I don't think it'd reflect well on us if we were some kind of shady go-to."

    The frown doesn't register, or maybe she chooses not to read into it. She gives Lilian space, and stops doing risky flips and twirls in what is now a packed clinic, when work seems about to start, happy to pull back and keep chatting without demonstrating energy.

"No flips, cartwheels, handstands, or rolls in my lab. If you break or knock something over, I'll snap your bones to match."

    "My bad, my bad!" Aika grins, adjusting her posture. Right, this is technically a professional, workplace, meeting. C'mon.

"It certainly could have gone much worse."

    "Something the matter?" Aika says, brows raising at the Timekeeper's little lip twitch, now that she's right-side up and all. She's got ears and eyes, when she wants to use them; or when she's comfortable reading, at least.

"I'm Xion."

    Mesmer's arrival would have Aika's full attention on her and Lilian, if she weren't amidst three other conversations. Her ears still angle that way, even as she full-faces Xion, because last time she saw those two together there was screaming, and then slashing. The slashing was aimed at Regulus but it felt otherwise.

    "Pet quest? Time attack?" Oh no Xion found someone who doesn't game much at all. Context clues, but she just ends up asking: "I'm not familiar with those? If it pays the bills though. Don't I know it, renting in New York is a scam and a half."

"It's deeply frustrating that with all of the various technologies and magicks available in innumerable worlds, most still have their stubborn specialties and reject much of their potential. There are certainly methods that don't pair well with one-another, but..."

    "God, I know, right? Superstitious nonsense. New computers're made to break faster! All our procedures are for this specific model! Our old mainframe would take too much work to transfer to newer hardware that's easier to hack!" She knows nothing about computers, much less medical equipment, so she leaves it to others.

"Yeah, it's for the people donating. Try to make sure everyone gets at least one, alright?"

    "'course. I'll be good," she smiles. She'd not dare deprive others, but if there were extras...
Lissandra "Biting coins? That sounds like some kind of prank item. I wonder if they feel fear, but somehow I doubt it." Lissandra says, trailing from a baffled up-pitch in her tone down to a gentler musing murmur. Still, she gets up from her seat around the table not long after finally settling into it, blowing a bit of her hair further from her eyes as Lilian explicitly invites her over to help. She adjusts her ring a bit and makes a beckoning motion with mostly her middle finger on that hand, plucking gloves from a box nearby if they're available or else using that effort to put together a little tray of supplies with minor telekinesis, and then bring it over to her while she gets some gloves out of her bag. However it happens, she's quick and neat, reorganizing the tray in a couple of short motions before looking out over those gathered.

     "Eenie meenie, miney-" she starts, pointing at a few different people (including Mesmer, second) before laughing it off as a joke, when Vertin volunteers! "Mm... If you feel quite alright, I suppose there's no harm. We'll go easy on you. Come on then, plenty of treats to have when you're done it seems." She pats the back of the chair, or rather taps it with her elbow. It's habit not to get the gloves dirty, probably.
Foundation Scions 'That's fine with me.'

    "... Super..." Matilda glances forlorn at Vertin, betrayed by her own actions to Vertin's own actions.

'If you feel discomfort, looking away from the injection site can help. Try counting and naming things in the room.'

    "Hah! That's easy, there's-"

'In your head."

    "...Ah. Ach- ow!" Be brave, Matilda. Think of all that money!

'Put them down on the meeting desk.'

    "No, thank you. I'm not infirm, I'll wait here." Mesmer stays there, staring at the blood draw, and making it all the more uncomfortable for her old schoolmate- Matilda looks away, as advised by Lilian, because it's weird to stare at Mesmer staring at Lilian. It's weirder, that Mesmer seems to be growing visibly nauseated by watching the procedure.

"Mesmer? Did, you also come to volunteer blood?"
"Excuse me? No, no, of course not. This can't be an official blood drive."
"It isn't! C'est une expérience scientifique!"
"What?"
"Er, it is a study Ms. Rook is-"
"I won't be giving any. It isn't a mandatory drive, there's no point. I'm not here to chit-chat either."

    Matilda goes back to sitting quietly and staring away from her co-worker, a little bit more upset by her tone; at least that's a meaningful distraction from how many vials there are to fill.

'Are you sleeping enough? Your thermal regulation is all over the place.'

    "Hein? Yes, of course I am! Matilda Bouanich never misses her beauty sleep," She lies, frequently one to speak on the radio in ungodly hours of the night, to go to work early in the morning, to perform additional duties until the evening, and on and on. "I do feel a bit colder now, though... Cinquante... C'est un chiffre énorme..."

    The documents, still warm from having come off a printer recently enough, make up an informal memorandum outlining Laplace Scientific Computing Center's intake procedures for hostile individuals, objects, and phenomena (specifically pertaining to intelligent or Awakened objects), with fresh highlighter hastily scrawled overtop the clause that any such article must have a formal psychological examination performed by Laplace's Rehabilitation Center, for storage and study safety guidelines to be imposed.

    The memorandum also highlights a different section, the disciplinary procedures for a breach in this conduct. As such, the documents make up a threat.

'Oh. You're still here?'

    Mesmer stares, a sneer fading into an eye-roll- "As I said, this is a matter of urgency. Be professional. The tape recorder is an unmonitored, plausibly-hazardous artifact in need of proper monitoring and investigation. I'm extending you an inadvisable curtesy, to perform the required analysis, before any of this could result in a messier circumstance than it already is."

    Then, annoyed, and stepping away from staring at Lilian and Matilda, Mesmer wanders to peek at the off-world machinery, idly. "Besides. It's useless to you, yes? There's nothing to be gained from causing a security mishap over something no better than moldy garbage. You can thank me, or don't, it hardly matters; but the fact of the matter is, there's a procedure to follow."

    "... Mesmer Jr.? Are tape recorders illegal..?" Matilda adds, to silence from Mesmer.
Lissandra Lissandra does seem sympathetic to the reasoning for all that blood-drawing from Vertin though. "Well, you do have a somewhat special relationship with chronomancy from what I gather. I can't be terribly surprised that every kook and quack in arms' reach would be eagerly taking whatever they could from you. Well, if you haven't a mind to turn them down in the future, at least improve your diet to compensate? I can hear that nutritional apathy in your voice." It's questionable whether she can, if Vertin's speaking in her comfortable monotone, but she's going to pretend she can either way. "If nothing else, a supplement. If you can't handle the bitter ones, I can make them a little more candy-like for your tastes."

Though, she doesn't know Picrasma candy is kind of a special situation...
Xion 'Careful. The little assholes bite.'
Raising a hand to catch the Sharpodonty, Xio hears the warning and makes a little 'atch!' as she is of course gotten by the sharp-edged currency. "Dang. Magic capitalism really does bite!" The noirette complains with a wry look, turning the money over in her hand more carefully before nodding and tucking the coin nowhere as well.

'Let's see . . . I'll take Xion. You can pick yours, Doctor Lissandra.'

Xion looks around to settle in like the others or at least in a contextually convenient posture for Lilian to draw blood from her arm. She leaves her bare arm slack, cloth bunching at the curve of shoulder, and turns away while looking towards.

"If you need me to write down paperwork I can but you'll probably know which one's mine." She continues, joking lightly. "I won't keep you from mister first-evolution hero and miss Bouanich. I'll be just nearby, hanging out, being regularly impressed."

Then, when she's stuck, it comes to her! As the vial of blood's drawn, her other arm rummages in her coat pocket and pulls out a rich red and black medallion featuring a gentleman in red trim.

"I totally remembered, I have a power to help out! It's this," She shows off the medallion. "I got it a while ago. The sensation reminded me," She scoff-laughs, the faintest bit woozy at her pressure changing. "Once you're done I'll help out."

Xion flickers the Nosferatu medallion into her fist with a roll of the fingers while she waits for her strange candyland gummyship blood to be drawn.
Timekeeper "As for my heart, not yet at least. I'd like to keep it that way a while longer, before I resort to fully replacing my own organs."

    "Ooooh, so you're the type to make *backups*, huh? Good habit to get into, 'specially if you're the anxious type!" TTT keeps cheerily engaging with the prompts she's given, swinging her legs back and forth on the stool she's conjured on the medical device's screen. "Or, are you *upgrading*? Stronger arms, faster... brain? I'm not really sure."

    "Not an AI, m-hm. Not an Awakened, either, if you're wondering! I'm just a girl." That thought rests for juuuust a minute, before the irrepressible urge to chatter arises in her once again. "Hey, hey! If you wanna learn more about computers, you can always ask me! I'm sort of a great tutor, and you'll never find someone with more secrets to share..!"

"In my experience lookin' for truth, it ain't that the truth's hidin' so much as it is bein' hidden."

    "Ooohhhhhh, rightttt?? There's just always some *conspiracy*, isn't there? But all it takes is one sharp poke, and allll that consensus comes falling apart, in a *wonderful* avalanche!" TTT is visibly delighted by this idea, bouncing up and down on the screen. "What kinda secrets are *you* looking for? Who's hidin' 'em?"

    When Calvin holds up his COMP, TTT giggles just a tiny bit embarrassedly, working her hair into a bundle in her hand. "Oh, that too. I just got the sense that you brought a whole bunch of people along? I tried, but I don't think my format's compatible by default..."

"I can't get anything out of it anyways. It's useless to me. So there's no need to worry."

    TTT is mollified in her fake tantrum by that explanation, but that immediately brings her attention back to being interested. Lilian's hesitance is clear, and TTT's comparatively attentive to Lilian not wanting to say something, unlike how she is with other people, but surely there's some conversational track that gets TTT this lore.

    "Oh, alright. But it feels like a bit of a shame to just let them sit there silently then, right...?"
Lilian Rook     'I'm financially stable, I'm doing this more to help than anything.'

"Mmmhm." Lilian says, giving Shirou a look that says 'well, you're trying to be responsible I guess'. She doesn't believe him.

    'Yeah, it's for the people donating. Try to make sure everyone gets at least one, alright?'

    "Well aren't you a sweet little domestic sort." she says, neutral-toned. "If there aren't enough then I'll get something from the cafeteria." Not her own vending machine? "The truffle chocolates in the minifridge are mine."

    The paperwork isn't wildly dissimilar from LSCC intake forms. Lilian apparently thought it was good enough to use some of the template. Outside of asking for boring biometrics, the criteria are reasonably general, asking for 'institution' with 'mentor' and 'self-taught' being acceptable fields, having an underlined 'brief' description field, a timeline box, relevant family out to two steps, and 'initiating incident (if any). It strangely doesn't bother to ask for a name. The 'DOCTOR'S USE ONLY' side sure does have Phantom Circle proprietary nomenclature to be circled, though.

    'Mm? Did something change?'

    "You could say that." Lilian says. It's unusually airy and even for talking to Vertin, with whom she is usually either relaxed, animated, or both. She's carefully weighing what to acknowledge that she's already told Vertin. "There information available was . . . lacking. Myopically so, even. I came to notice just how bad it was when I suddenly had need of anything other than dogmatic orthodoxy around that time."

    'I've eaten today'

    "So you admit you've only eaten once." Lilian says, more cheerfully. "I'm going to start sneaking MREs under your door at this rate. Or worse." She waggles an empty syringe. "Via Sonetto."

    'You wouldn't mind a last minute volunteer, would you? I won't mind if you're short on sharpodonty.'

    "By all means. Take your seat." Lilian says, gesturing forward towards Lissandra, being busy with Xion. "If anything, it's an honour on my part. And it's not as if you'll need to fill any paperwork." She, somehow, manages not to say anything about figuring out anything about Vertin's Storm immunity. Wow!

    'In the movies, sure'

    Lilian tilts her head. "How do you think they get stitched up in real life?" she says. "I've personally seen an abandoned Watch . . . you know. Stitches and scissors in the sink. 'Chop shop'."

    'It's for in-house use only. Exceptionally for 'friends and allies'.'

    After making an 'mm' noise, close-mouthed, Lilian tilts her head the other way. "I suppose that is different." she concludes.

    'My bad, my bad!'

    "If I have to tell a third animal girl . . ." Lilian mutters.

    'No, thank you. I'm not infirm, I'll wait here.'

    Lilian's back remains turned.

    'Mesmer? Did, you also come to volunteer blood?'
    'Excuse me? No, no, of course not. This can't be an official blood drive.'

    §No surprise there. She's nothing if not a recalcitrant little parasite. Giving back to the community might send her into anaphylactic shock.§

    'I do feel a bit colder now, though... Cinquante... C'est un chiffre énorme...'

    "Well, that can't be helped." Lilian says, packing up and carrying the new set of vials to the Petra Fridge. "Your blood is reponsible for keeping your warm, after all. You'll recover somewhat after eating and resting."
Lilian Rook     'As I said, this is a matter of urgency. Be professional.'

    "As you can see, I'm performing professional work right now." Lilian says. "You don't expect me to leave a needle in someone and rush off to sign forms while they bleed, do you?" It'd be less insulting if she rolled her eyes, frankly.

    'The tape recorder is an unmonitored, plausibly-hazardous artifact in need of proper monitoring and investigation.'

    She nearly does drop it. Diamond nerves and preturnatural kinesthetic sense keeps the hypodermic in a vein.

    'You can thank me, or don't, it hardly matters; but the fact of the matter is, there's a procedure to follow.'

    Lilian finishes up after just six from Xion. She glances at the medallion, presses her lips together, and says, "Can you see to Rosewater, please? I'll be just one moment.", entrusting Xion with a non-trivial task in a moment of need; yet again. Taking a deep breath she turns around towards Mesmer, and says:

    "Before I sign anything, I'd like to officially request a diagnosis on whatever mental illness you're currently suffering and when you're scheduled to begin treatment."

    '... Mesmer Jr.? Are tape recorders illegal..?'

    She talks right over Matilda. "You told me that you wanted nothing to do with it. I vividly recall that you intended to follow instructions, wash your hands of it, and never speak of it again." Lilian raises her voice, glancing down at, but still not accepting, the papers. "Out of respect for your wishes, expressed when you were of relatively sound mind, which I seem to recall were 'whatever avoids getting shot', I'll save you the effort and relocate the DTR off-site. That way, you can avoid meddling with things that nobody wants you touching, including you."

    She makes a shooing gesture with her empty hand. "Now run along. Go and get well. Best wishes and all."

    'Oh, alright. But it feels like a bit of a shame to just let them sit there silently then, right...?'

    "I'm sorry TTT but this is a very bad time." Lilian says, stiffly. "Besides, it apparently won't be sitting here for long. The Mesmer Foundation has made their stance abundantly clear."
Calvin Nash Beg pardon?

    "Nothin'," says Calvin, walking away from the explosion not because he's cool, but because he's oblivious.

    I've eaten today.

    "Don't let my mama hear you say that. She wouldn't let you leave without a basket-full."

What kinda secrets are *you* looking for? Who's hidin' 'em?

    "Secrets about me, and I'm the one that's hidin' 'em," says Calvin. "Self-reflection. There's a conspiracy, too, but it's a little early to say much 'bout that."

Oh, that too. I just got the sense that you brought a whole bunch of people along?

    "Yep. This here is a portable computer, and a demonic compendium. Right now I got a few contracts. Most of 'em are easy to get along with." As if in response, the COMP buzzes. Calvin opens it, checks the screen, and scoffs.

Ongyo-ki: You should summon me. I could really help here, you know.
Calvin: how the hell would you help. you aint no doctor
Ongyo-ki: No, but it seems like your healers need blood. All of you have it in ample supply, and those needles are precise, but so very slow...
Calvin: your gonna help alright. when i make you into somebody more useful.

    Calvin shuts the COMP's screen.

    "You'd have to be more 'feeling' than 'stuff' to fit in there, is my guess," he says. "Guess 'info' counts as 'stuff.'"

...the fact of the matter is, there's a procedure to follow.

    "No," says Calvin, waving his index like a loaded gun at Mesmer, "The *fact* of the matter is, *you* need to have some *respect.* For us and for Lilian. I know you think we all fell off the turnip truck yesterday, but any asshole can see you marched in here with somethin' to prove. You're talkin' about *Lilian,*" he tersely asserts. "It's gonna get done, and it's gonna get done right, so you can drop the act, act your age, and skip to the part about the *timeframe.*" His downturned palm strikes an indignant line across his chest. "When's it need to be done by?" he asks, palm held outwards towards Mesmer.
Xion 'New York is a scam and a half'

"Do you get a lot of work in New York or do you have to travel around? I'm never sure if that's one of those 'the-city-provides' or a hub for eating and amenities and enterprise reasons, I thought. It's one of those meta-big cities, New Amsterdam." Xion agrees, rolling into a quick barrage of questions in aside.

"... Is that why you're here? Blood drive? Do you need sharp-o-pointies?"
Foundation Scions ' We can catch up in the lobby, then.'

    "Pssh, surely, the highly-qualified Matilda Bouanich will not lose her bearings over something so mundane as giving blood!" Vertin has plausibly seen Matilda give blood before, to woozy ends, but it's no surprise that she's going to boast about anything she can.

'I can't be terribly surprised that every kook and quack in arms' reach would be eagerly taking whatever they could from you.'

    "It's callous to refer to scientific efforts to preserve the existence of history and mankind with that tone. It's expected of everyone to do their parts, Vertin's no exception in this regard, even if she's everyone's favorite 'exception'."

'But it feels like a bit of a shame to just let them sit there silently then, right...?'

    Mesmer, of all people, seems to find this funny, even as clashing as 'amused blowing-air-out-of-her-nose' is to handing over essentially blackmail-documents about the object in question.
Lissandra When there's a lull, Lissandra comfortably keeps up the banter with TTT. She looks up and over at her at one point in a way that's vaguely appraising, but doesn't seem too bothered by whatever it was that caught her attention in that moment. "In this case, I was moreso looking for proof of function. I was younger, a bit more reckless, and there aren't very many ethical ways to test a new form of artificial organ. The design works, but it's only supplementary to an organic heart. I suppose you could call it an upgrade, but it has its quirks." She pauses to listen a little more, humming while she wipes Vertin's arm clean and aligns the needle. The insertion is as painless as it gets, even without her magic. "Not an Awakened? I'm still only barely familiar with your terminology, but I gathered that typically describes a 'thinking object'. Which would mean, taken honestly, you either converted yourself into a digital being after being born hu-... Well, mortal, or... Hm, you certainly know how to bait the line. Well, I'll spare you the menial questions, but I'd be happy to ask you a bit more about yourself sometime. Assuming you don't mind being *studied*." She makes it sound so dramatic.

     Her pleasant and comfortable little smile has gradually slid into inverse as she hears Mesmer nagging Lilian, Lilian dealing with Mesmer, Calvin playing defense... She has no idea what Xion's background might be, so she'll watch from the corner of her eye in case she flusters, but as long as Xion keeps her composure and doesn't fumble any tools she probably won't need to get involved. Blood drawing is quite easy, as far as Lissandra is concerned! She'd kind of like to comment on Mesmer, but at least for right now she's in Work Mode, and others deserve her full focus- okay nope, she's been roped in after all.

     Lissandra doesn't even look up at Mesmer immediately, speaking in the most faux-professional dismissive manner she can muster, which lands somewhere near 'disappointed aunt' in tone. "I think you've put the cart before the horse. You've barged into a practicing professional's office, insisted on playing voyuer to her work, and still you'd place the dignity of a vague concept above the comfort of their patients and collaborators? Isn't that embarrassing. If you think little Vertin here aught to be juiced like an orange for science, surely you wouldn't object if I insisted on a look inside your head?" She pauses for dramatic effect and finally looks up, leisurely raising the syringe she's partially filled from Vertin by that point, and taps the plunger with her thumb. "Or will you demonstrate proper, silent blood-donor courtesy for us? No, you seem a bit queasy..." Oh no. She's noticing. "Perhaps another time."
Foundation Scions 'You don't expect me to leave a needle in someone and rush off to sign forms while they bleed, do you?'

    "Hm? It's hardly a fast enough flow to be that much of a risk, is it? You could stop, and restart, that's an insignificant amount of time to wait." Mesmer raises up a hand to her face, examining her nails- her lip curls when ink seems to be under one, and she's distracted from more snark by trying to clean it out; taking all of her focus. Matilda protests- "Hey- but, I don't wish to be poked a second time-?"

'You'll recover somewhat after eating and resting.'

    "Hm! Oh-! Timekeeper Vertin! Vertin? Perhaps, in the stead of catching-up in the atrium, we ought utilize the cafeteria of Laplace..? Ce ne peut sûrement pas être pire que le SPDM..."

'Before I sign anything, I'd like to officially request a diagnosis on whatever mental illness you're currently suffering and when you're scheduled to begin treatment.'

    "Fine. I'll file the request; it isn't mine to grant, of course, and I doubt it will be." Mesmer's tone is light, bitter, and nasal, like she's floating a few layers back and out from any of this interaction even going on. That she's steeping herself in this much embarrassment, and only getting frustrated about it, is diabolical.

'Out of respect for your wishes, expressed when you were of relatively sound mind, which I seem to recall were 'whatever avoids getting shot','

    "I can't see how this would; the clemency I've offered by volunteering my efforts, so that this doesn't become a reportable infraction, is exactly to the tune of not violating any agreements. It's the smoothest, cleanest way any of this could go. With the exception of the audience you've brought along, I suppose."

    "I don't have any personal fondness for the item; or anything on it. It's terribly irritating to watch a project I'm involved in flounder, when the next steps are clear and feasible. I'd love to wash my hands clean of anything beyond that, what's done with any of it, what you think of any of it; regardless, I want to see the task itself through."

'I'll save you the effort and relocate the DTR off-site.'

    "No, that's unacceptable. I didn't print it out for you, but, obviously, the unsanctioned transport of hazardous items in, out, or through Laplace grounds is likewise impermissible. It's an irresponsibility to allow unknown threats to leave observation; frankly, it's a surprise that no one else includes you in that category." What's the chance she's bluffing?

'That way, you can avoid meddling with things that nobody wants you touching, including you.'

    With a sharp inhale, "I'll wear gloves."

'No,' 'The *fact* of the matter is, *you* need to have some *respect.*'

    "You're excused to leave." Mesmer side-eyes Calvin's finger wagging, "Ensuring it's done right is my explicit goal. If your mad gesturing is some attempt at an incantation, I'll respond as if its a threat to my wellbeing, put your hand down."

    "-Turnip truck? Excuse me? I can't fathom what you mean, speak English, if you can."
Foundation Scions 'Surely you wouldn't object if I insisted on a look inside your head?'

    "I object in full, I'm of sane mind, thank you. Take any future statement of consent as a sign I'm not of sane mind; and default to my denial." Mesmer is speaking as if Lissandra is a computer she can dictate orders to. There's no way she believes that will even work, right?

'Or will you demonstrate proper, silent blood-donor courtesy for us? No, you seem a bit queasy...'

    "It's a set matter, there's an extreme risk of the likes of illegal cloning, sympathetic curses, and other matters, for me, or any other Mesmer, to participate in elective blood sampling. An official condition of the Mesmer Foundation, to condone my working here. That's all, that's that."
Lissandra Lissandra wiggles her fingers a bit with a passing temptation as Mesmer sasses Calvin, but her aloof frown bends somewhat more upright and back toward the suggestion of a smile at the idea of Calvin's furious pointing being any kind of spellcasting gesture. The amusing notion helps her avoid going straight over the edge into 'pissed off', and keep to her dismissive tone while she's neatly distributing drawn blood into vials and then subsequently labelling them. "So you understand that people of value should be kept reasonably whole, after all. That's good! I'm glad we agree. It would be so very untoward to expect you to submit to involuntary invasive procedures without a compelling non-routine reason and an assurance of proper care, after all. No matter how valuable the results might be."

Somehow, that little exchange seems to have satisfied Lissandra's vindictiveness for the moment. Mesmer probably won't suddenly apologize or change her ways, but that was never *really* the point. Not to Lissandra in this moment, anyway.

     "Well!" she says like a piece of punctuation, gently double-patting Vertin's shoulders with her forearms, rather than her gloved hands. "I suppose you'll just have to go without a participation reward then, Miss Mesmer. Wouldn't want to risk achieving perfect organ cloning in an afternoon. I'm sure you're very torn up about it, but fair is fair. Vertin, Matilda, Shirou and... Xion, yes? Don't forget to have something to eat. I did bring some cookies if you want to take some home. Next up is Aika, then?"

     Almost like an afterthought, and offered entirely comfortably, Lissandra looks over at Lilian, and lifts the hand that's wearing the ring. "Would you like some peace and quiet while we wrap up? For patient safety of course."
Timekeeper "I can't be terribly surprised that every kook and quack in arms' reach would be eagerly taking whatever they could from you."

    Vertin frowns just a tiny bit at that. With her jacket off, she takes the initiative to unbutton the cuff of her sleeve and roll it up to her bicep, expertly preparing herself for extraction. "I don't begrudge them it. We all want the Storm to end."

"She wouldn't let you leave without a basket-full."
"Or worse. Via Sonetto."

    The polar opposite of Matilda, the way Vertin sits in the chair, it looks like there could be a half dozen syringes stuck in her at once and her flat expression wouldn't change. "Do be careful with that. I've got little room to put them, and Sonetto won't take no for an answer."

"Perhaps, in the stead of catching-up in the atrium, we ought utilize the cafeteria of Laplace..?"

    Even Vertin can be worn down by repeatedly hammering at her like this, especially when it's tied with something she was planning on doing anyways. "Alright. It's been some time since I've been there, myself."

"You told me that you wanted nothing to do with it."

    But, that pleasant moment can't last for long. Tensions between Lilian and Mesmer continue to escalate, and this drains Vertin more than the dozen vials of blood she's lost already. As much as she's made her position clear, that she doesn't intend on taking sides with either of them, there's only so much that she can ignore happening right in front of her. She slides down a tiny bit in her chair, but her expression remains unreadable.

    "Since this is a matter of unfortunate timing, Mesmer, you're aware that there's a lounge just outside for this express purpose? It won't take more than another quarter hour. And besides, it's not doing you any good to wait around where blood's being drawn."

    Vertin silently closes her eyes as Calvin and Lissandra start rounding around Mesmer to tell her off. She sighs through her nose, pushing herself back upright against the back of the chair while careful to not disturb the needle.

    "Mesmer, I understand that you're frustrated that your paperwork is being delayed for a volunteer event. It won't be much longer, and with all of these unaffiliated people here, it's probably best to avoid talking details anyways, isn't it? And there's no need to tell Mesmer off for doing her job as Department Head, either. I understand that you feel as though she's unfairly barging in, but this is her workplace, and we're guests here."

"If you think little Vertin here aught to be juiced like an orange for science, surely you wouldn't object if I insisted on a look inside your head?"

    It's hard to tell, but the Vertin relationship minus modifier does pop up to those with the ability to see it. "I'd like to ask not to be used as a rhetorical weapon, please."
Lissandra Lissandra does lose a little bit of her self-satisfied steam over Vertin's request. She pauses like she's confused, but something does click into place the next moment. Her expression isn't exactly *remorseful* as much as disappointed, but she knows better than to push back. Vertin's so polite about it, after all. "Mm... If you say so then."

     She's clearly trying to avoid a take-back that would satisfy Mesmer to hear, but has the sense to further say, "I imagine you have enough to deal with, without quibbles like this, hmm? I'll be more mindful." She doesn't really know where Vertin's coming from, or even that there's a tangible malus to her impression, but it does scan as kind of improper to weaponize the person she was just advocating for.
Lilian Rook     'Hm? It's hardly a fast enough flow to be that much of a risk, is it?'

    Lilian looks back, imagines the blood dribbling out of the injection site, and makes a face. "I fucking knew it. I knew she was a blood sicko." she mutters, deeply unhappy and not quiet enough. Her mood doesn't improve when seeing Mesmer doing her awful little nail-examining thing.

    'I can't see how this would; the clemency I've offered by volunteering my efforts, so that this doesn't become a reportable infraction, is exactly to the tune of not violating any agreements.'

    "You know perfectly well what you're doing you--" Lilian catches herself, exhaling the rest rather than speaking it aloud, but it doesn't seem to calm her whatsoever. She curls a fist so tight that her glove creaks as if about to tear. Rigidly enforcing even breathing, her frostily neutral tone still quivers at the edges with the effort of suppressing her anger. Right now, she would rather anything but being sucked right back into Mesmer's stupid games again. And yet. "You've taken leave of your senses. Just yesterday you were someone who'd wisely want nothing to do with this at all." Irritation causes her wrist to subtly smasm. She grits her teeth, then says anyways, "You were also clever enough to know exactly why you don't want to get in a 'reporting infractions' fight with me, Mesmer Junior."

    'I don't have any personal fondness for the item; or anything on it. It's terribly irritating to watch a project I'm involved in flounder'

    "Shut up." Lilian has barely said the words before she flinches from unthinkingly repeating Mesmer's favourite. "Behave yourself. You have nothing to do with the project. Your involvement was already terminated; just like you wanted. Your input is neither necessary nor wanted."

    'No, that's unacceptable. I didn't print it out for you, but, obviously, the unsanctioned transport of hazardous items in, out, or through Laplace grounds is likewise impermissible.'

    "There's no evidence whatsoever that the item is hazardous at all." Lilian says, and finally forces herself to exhale. Stiffly turning her back, she waves Mesmer off a second time, scanning around her tray to remind herself what she was just doing. "I'll ask you to prove that it poses any danger to anyone before I start taking instructions from you." Checking her stack of documents, Lilian tosses the used hypodermic into the biohazard bin with a loud rattle-thump, picks up a new one, and--

    'frankly, it's a surprise that no one else includes you in that category.'

    "Excuse me?" The syringe cracks to pieces in her grasp, reflexively tightened. The plastic plunger is warped into the shape of her hand, steel needle bent out like a broken bone. It takes all her energy and several seconds of trembling grip to turn and drop it in the bin as well. "No one else is deluded enough to believe that I'm their perverted little experiment, now are they?" Lilian hisses, grinding her teeth. "I've asked you before on numerous occasions not to roleplay at work. It's humiliating to listen to." Deep breaths still don't help. She spits with the vitriol of a slur, "Freak."

    'I'll wear gloves.'

    "Wear a gag while you're at it." Lilian blurts out on autopilot, then keeps talking just to salvage it. "I can't see your desperately crawling back to the project after already being let go as anything other than an embarrassing attempt to win back my attention, either. "Now, I thought it was within your vaunted 'intellectual capability' to understand that you've already been dumped for crossing too many lines, but if I have to spell it out for you, then I have more than enough evidence to file a harassment claim against you."
Lilian Rook     'It's gonna get done, and it's gonna get done right, so you can drop the act, act your age, and skip to the part about the *timeframe.*"'

    Lilian makes a disgusted noise with her tongue against her teeth, says "Ach ansin arís." and snatches Mesmer's stack of papers, now lightly crumpled in her hands despite not having moved from the spot. "You have until I'm finished reviewing and rejecting all of these documents to apologize for your myriad past transgressions against my boundaries if you want to avoid proceedings." she says.

    'I object in full, I'm of sane mind, thank you.'

    "Go and test yourself about it."

    'Or will you demonstrate proper, silent blood-donor courtesy for us? No, you seem a bit queasy...'
    'It's a set matter, there's an extreme risk of the likes of illegal cloning, sympathetic curses, and other matters'

    "Nobody wants to contract whatever you have, Mesmer. You can keep your fluids to yourself and fuck off, creep."

    'And there's no need to tell Mesmer off for doing her job as Department Head, either. I understand that you feel as though she's unfairly barging in, but this is her workplace, and we're guests here.'
    'I'd like to ask not to be used as a rhetorical weapon, please.'

    About the only thing that has the power to make Lilian regret being openly hostile to Mesmer is . . . well, Tamamo, but in this current situation, and for at least the next thirty minutes of cold water-like shame, Vertin will do. "Thank you Timekeeper." Lilian says, approximately similar to 'you can stop talking now'. "Your reasonability is appreciated." sounds a lot like 'don't take her side'. "I'd like nothing more than to go about my work in peace, without being involuntarily involved in a new ill-considered bureaucratic scheme every other week. So I can hardly blame my colleagues for taking objection to--"

    Lilian presses her hand to the right half of her face, and breathes into her fingers. "Excuse me. I'm going to take a five minute break." It won't really be five minutes, but it should be understood at least that she doesn't want to jab Vertin while her hands are shaking. Lilian beelines for her office and slams the door behind her.
Calvin Nash With the exception of the audience you've brought along, I suppose.

    Calvin scoffs and shakes his head.

If your mad gesturing is some attempt at an incantation, I'll respond as if its a threat to my wellbeing, put your hand down.

    That draws a bark of a laugh from him. "The only incantation I'm 'bout to use is the one where I use this here," he says, patting his COMP, "To see who you report to and let 'em know you were lookin' for somethin' to do, since you got so much free time."

-Turnip truck? Excuse me? I can't fathom what you mean, speak English, if you can.

    "Aight. How's this, since it's a second language for you." Calvin speaks insultingly slowly. "What. Is. The. Timeframe. For. The. Paperwork."

    "See, the longer you go without givin' me an answer, the more I think you're full of shit and you just grabbed whatever the hell was layin' around. Which would be misappropriation of resources, now wouldn't it."

    Calvin flips open his COMP and taps one-index-punch at a time, diligent and fast for a hunt-and-peck devotee. "Or maybe," he says, as he taps out a few inquiries, "You got the answer, and you just don't wanna say so 'cause it'd give you more time to fuck around and bother Lilian. Now, I'm just a shit-kickin' bumpkin that can't speak English too good, but that sure seems like a hostile work environment to me."

I understand that you feel as though she's unfairly barging in, but this is her workplace, and we're guests here.

    "Ms. Vertin," he says, looking up from the COMP, his tone a radical departure from when he was speaking to Mesmer, "I appreciate you sayin' so. And I appreciate you tryin' to smooth things over, too. So let me apologize for causin' you a headache, and I hope it don't look to bad on the Paladins or where I'm from, far as us workin' together in the future. I want you to know that to me, this here is a pattern with Mesmer. She uses her position, and her name, to make people put up with her, 'cause she's figured out that y'all need her and that you're too decent to throw her into that shit outside." He gestures with a thumb towards 'outside,' meaning 'the Storm.'

    "Pardon my French, but somebody like that as a Department Head is a recipe for a *fuckin' disaster,*" he says, fist into palm. "And she proves me right all the damn time. We got a sayin' where I'm from. 'Same shit, different day,' and that just about describes it," he says, shaking his head, still seated. "Any given day, I can count on Mesmer to use her position as an excuse to harass Lilian, whether it's conveniently findin' paperwork she needs to do right when she ain't got no time to focus on it, or pickin' at every little thing she does and disguisin' it as doctors' talk. Not to mention," he adds, "Makin' her out to be some kinda wild animal that's gonna bite any minute."

    "So," he says, resuming his typing, "It might be pissin' into the wind. Hell, it prolly is. But I'm gonna get this formal complaint sent, 'cause I hit my limit and I'm done playin' these little games like she don't know what she's doin'." He matter-of-factly hits the Enter key and closes the COMP.

     "There." Glancing to Mesmer, "You hear that? That's what respect sounds like. Try it sometime. You might learn somethin'."
Timekeeper "No one else is deluded enough to believe that I'm their perverted little experiment, now are they?"

    Good god it's so much worse than she thought. Vertin patiently closes her eyes, Bodhisattva-esque, until her fingers slowly drag their way towards pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Excuse me. I'm going to take a five minute break."

    "Understood. My apologies, Lilian. I hope you...." She trails off with a sigh, not figuring out in time what she could say that wouldn't make things worse.

"I want you to know that to me, this here is a pattern with Mesmer."

    Lilian has left, but Mesmer remains. Typically, Vertin would be inclined to phrase her response to this very direct statement in a roundabout way, but she's given Mesmer so much credit in this situation already that she's reached the end of her rope.

    That isn't true. Vertin has unlimited rope. But she can be a tiny bit unhappy. "I'm aware. Mesmer and I have known each other our entire lives. I wouldn't suggest for a moment that you've lost any credibility to me, and I wish Lilian didn't have to put up with this. Thank you for your diligence, Mr. Nash."

    She rubs at her face, then rolls her white dress sleeve back over the gauze on her arm once it's applied. "We work with the people we're given, the personalities they bring, and the history they carry. Mesmer deserves to live as much as anyone. Lilian," A short side-eye towards Mesmer. "Deserves to work in peace as much as anyone."

    Vertin moves to stand up, and then briefly falters from anemia. Giving up for a moment, their hat brim slides down to cover their eyes, hands on their knees and drooped forwards. She seems about to say something more elaborate, but the energy to do so leaves her with a quiet exhalation.

    "Could you perhaps use the mailbox next time, Mesmer? Please?"
Swords of Justice      Shirou's surprisingly calm as he gets stabbed by a needle. It's not pleasant, mind, but even if it was the worst thing ever, he wouldn't voice that opinion openly. Still, it's better to do a mental checklist now than focus on the voluntary blood loss. Paperwork? Filled out. Blood? Given. Current status? It's better than getting stabbed through the heart, but man is he tired and a little dizzy now. Is he going to reveal that he feels awful to everyone though? Shirou seriously debates making people feel bad for him all for half of a second before reaching his conclusion. No.

     He stands up after Lilian's finished, focusing all of his attention on making sure he doesn't stumble or look phased at all as he reaches for the box of melon bread he had brought over. If it wasn't for the fact that he's stupidly fighting his body's desire to take it easy, he'd be a lot more focused on Mesmer and Lilian's fight rather than a desire to get food. For all he knows though, maybe they're actually getting along- No they aren't. He can lie to himself in many ways, but some things even he can't easily believe without proof.

     "Do you need more? In the future, obviously, I mean. I don't think I can do...Now."

     'Vertin, Matilda, Shirou and... Xion, yes? Don't forget to have something to eat. I did bring some cookies if you want to take some home.'

     "I'm fine. Don't worry." He takes a bite of his own treat as if to emphasize this... Only realizing shortly after that turning down her cookies might be perceived as rude. "I'll be sure to bring some back for later though. Thanks."
Calvin Nash .mail

Mail v. 1.0.2
developed by Eric Myers

To: <Madame Lucy>
CC:
From: <Calvin Nash>
Subject: Formal Complaint

Hello,

Hope this message finds you well.

I'll cut to the chase. They tell me that Mesmer Jr. reports to you. If so, I'm sorry to tell you that you have a serious problem on your hands.

You are aware that Mesmer is one of two people from the Foundation Department of Multiversal Outreach who works with us in the Paladins. The other is Ms. Matilda Bouanich. I have nothing but praise for Ms. Bouanich.

Mesmer is a different story. I can put my differences of opinion with her aside. I can't ignore her conduct as a Paladin or as part of Laplace any more.

The whole time I have known Mesmer, she has been a habitual harasser, of her fellow Paladins and her fellow scientists. I am told that she has a quota to meet for communication time with the FDMO. Instead, she uses our organization's radio frequency to insult its members, then diagnoses them with mental illnesses when they get upset.

Sadly, a bad attitude and bad manners aren't unique in the world, but this is far from the worst of what Mesmer does. A leader should be an example to those who report to them. Mesmer is an example of what not to do. Her co-workers in Laplace actively try to avoid her, because they know that she will use policy and procedure against them until she gets her way.

No one in our organization has been insulted, provoked and harassed by Mesmer more than Chevalier Lilian Rook. Mesmer frequently makes ugly remarks about Chevalier Rook's personal life. She also paints Chevalier Rook as a dangerous animal rather than the human being she is. Ignoring Mesmer's harassment does not stop it. Instead, Mesmer uses her position to create work for Chevalier Rook, so that she has an excuse to harass her further.

The most concerning of all is the fact that this appears to be common knowledge in your organization. I believe that Mesmer feels because she is a Department Head, and a Mesmer besides, she can do whatever she wants. To me, this is the behavior of someone who is confident that her actions don't have consequences. They do. I wanted to let you know so that this can be handled within your organization.

Regards,
Chevalier Calvin Nash
Commonwealth Paladins

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     Yes, Calvin typed all of that with one index.
Foundation Scions 'You were also clever enough to know exactly why you don't want to get in a 'reporting infractions' fight with me, Mesmer Junior.'

    Through gritted teeth, "A departmental meeting involved reviewing drafts for posters promoting a transparency campaign; perhaps I was moved."

    "For what it's worth, I think blood is filthy, I can't stand seeing it, it's miserable to clean up- and I'm not 'sick' with anything," She adds, a self-tell at trying to listen to Lilian too closely.

'Your involvement was already terminated; just like you wanted.'

    "Fine, then it's as easy as saying I slept on it, and, with clarified thoughts, I'd rather remain involved. The problem's solved, there's no cause to use out-of-date versions of my own words, now."

'Excuse me?'

    Glass breaking, tiny flakes crashing against linoleum; with only the back-brain awareness that Lilian is holding something sharp, brief panic overrides Mesmer from that stimulus alone. As her clip-stowed EM sensor beeps and trills from her shoulder, Mesmer jolts back a step and a half, hand grabbing at her side for her trusty K-tope Callibrator- which isn't there at her side. Mesmer doesn't even curse, eyes flashing wide in the fear of a further layer of helplessness.

    And then the syringe's remnant bits are dropped, there in the trash bin, that's settled, and Mesmer's left with the adrenaline in her veins, fading on the matter of minutes and not moments.

'No one else is deluded enough to believe that I'm their perverted little experiment, now are they?'

    Like the words aren't heard clearly, "What? No." Mesmer's hand is still perched near her side, like the grip to her raygun might show back up at any moment; she's forgotten she even moved her arm.

'Freak.'

    She heard that one clearly. Quieter, voiced on the exhale, "Hysteric menace. Stop threatening me."

'Wear a gag while you're at it.'

    Lilian can watch the admixture of fear, disgust, and anger fluctuate on Mesmer's face following that sentence, like a chemistry reaction demonstration vacillating from one end of it process to the other. "No thank you."

'Ach ansin arís.'

    Mesmer winces, the flashbang of EM compounding with ambient heart-pounding disorientation, she's freed of any task her other hand is doing, now, and only then adjusts to a crossed-arms posture. It's unbecoming, when she's having to manually slow her breathing to come out of a panic. "Really?-" A pause, not intentional cadence, "Really? You want me to just say the magic words? 'I apologize for the myriad things.' Like that?" There ought to still be a point somewhere Lilian can call out, where Mesmer will fold up into some manner of compliance; a threat to her career has consistently been that point previously. Maybe she's just that far from her right mind right now?

'Nobody wants to contract whatever you have, Mesmer.'

    "It's a good thing I'm not contagious for anything," She mumbles, half-focused; what does she mean by this? "I didn't bring it up, either way."
Foundation Scions 'The only incantation I'm 'bout to use is the one where I use this here,'

    "If you point to your-" Mesmer stops, exhales, pinches the bridge of her nose, and turns around. Scoffing, "Free time? Is that a joke?"

'And there's no need to tell Mesmer off for doing her job as Department Head, either.'

    "That ought to be self-evident, without your advocacy," Mesmer says, shaky misplaced bitterness needing somewhere to go. "And, somehow, it isn't. How ironic."

'Timeframe'
'Since this is a matter of unfortunate timing, Mesmer, you're aware that there's a lounge just outside for this express purpose? It won't take more than another quarter hour.'

    "I don't plan to be here any longer, certainly not until the paperwork is done. I need fresher air, and," shifting posture, like she wants to lean on something but can't bear to touch the furniture here, "I don't think the timing of any of it matters now. That settles that?"

'Could you perhaps use the mailbox next time, Mesmer? Please?'

    Rattled sounding still, "What? Oh. I considered it, I might reevaluate." That's about the most receptive answer Mesmer can give, already dusting off her skirt from nonexistent contamination, and trudging on out.