Scene #9560: Vaults of the... Living?

Owner	Pose
Meresankh	Lissandra: "... Even if your wife does not understand after waking, you'll still have saved her. You won't have failed. You'll have all the time you need to reacquaint with one-another." Meresankh nods as the elevator comes to a halt halfway up from the vaults. "True. We have won what we can today, and though some things may have to be approached delicately, I can only hope she will come around. Now, if you will all follow me, I wish to ensure the transducer's safe installation before we discuss payment and bid our farewells." The door opens and Iseptah is there, ready to usher everyone off the platform - he may well have been waiting there for the entire time the Elites were in the chartless depths of the tomb-complex. The queen and her seneschal lead the group into a large hallway, lined with circuitry-clad stone columns stretching perhaps forever in one direction, and not very far at all in the other direction before the path comes to another vast door bearing Meresankh's dynastic ankh. Thankfully that door, and not the corridor extending however-far into the darkness, is your destination. Before it stands another Necron, who Meresankh indicates to the unfamiliar as Royal Warden Henutep. The bodyguard bows in greeting to his queen as the doors swing open. Beyond lies an elaborate chamber, nearly every surface plated in golden, green, and black metals. All over are glyphs and inscriptions in the ancient Necron script, extolling the virtues and accomplishments of empire, dynasty, and queen. Within the room there are a pair of ornate upright sarcophagi, one standing open and the other sealed. "Her Majesty's personal tomb chamber," Iseptah explains. "It is here that her Lady Nakhtmut lies still, waiting for-" "Enough," Meresankh calls, raising a hand for her attendant's silence. "There is yet work to be done." For the visiting Elites, the process of installing a hyperphase transducer is mostly a matter of waiting for Meresankh to do it herself. After a few minutes of what amounts to high-tech cutting and soldering, a burnt-out copy of the device is removed and one of the five intact transducers put in its place. "There," Meresankh says with relief, "it is done. Now we can-" At once from the sealed casket a great humming rises. "No," mutters Meresankh, just shy of inaudible. "I'm not ready for-"
Meresankh	"Our sovereign's consort awakens anew!" cries Iseptah, exuberant. "Oh, as if she were awaiting the touch of her Queen - how poetic!" Henutep gestures for the Elites to step back, away from the coffin as its lid splits down the middle and slowly grinds open. The contents revealed are not entirely surprising - a Necron clad in golden cape and helm, ceremonially dressed for war. As the warlord's eyes flicker from dead to pale green, Iseptah continues: "Announcing to all who witness - the awakening of Lady-Nemesor Nakhtmut, grand general of the legions of Oryx, chosen of our sovereign!" All is silent for a moment, Meresankh hovering speechless between the Elites and her slowly-waking wife. The lull is broken by Nakhtmut herself, with glitchy electronic sounds that soon resolve into a voice. "Herald." she begins. "How long has it been?" Iseptah answers with a figure measured in Necron years, but which numbers in the tens of millions. "That long..." the general mutters. "Where is my beloved?" Her eyes sweep across the Elites and narrow with contempt. Iseptah gestures back to where Meresankh stands - or, stood! Now she has retreated to halfway behind Henutep's bulky form. The queen tentatively raises a hand in greeting. "It is I, my dear one. I a--" "You lie. You hold the rod of sovereignty yet I do not recognize you. Where is my husband?" To this, Meresankh only hesitates, in which time Nakhtmut returns her gaze to the Elites. "What are these rats doing in my hall? Explain yourselves!"
Riku Asakura	Riku, after transforming back into Riku instead of Ultraman Geed, walks with Meresankh back to the elevator and up it. Once it travels to where it's supposed to go, he walks off with her and towards the coffin itself. Riku bows in respect to Henutep, who bows to them. After all, it'd be disrespectful not to give a proper greeting. Riku waits for Meresankh to install the component, but when something happens, and the casket starts opening, Riku steps back to give it room as indicated by Iseptah. Though he's caught unaware of everything that is happening, all he can do is watch. He stands next to Meresankh to watch with her. He notices the narrowing of Nakhtmut's eyes, seemingly in contempt. He's somewhat aware that Meresankh is an outlier in how the Necron view other races, but not this much. "It's true, she's really Meresankh!" he says, using his elbow to nudge Meresankh forward in putting herself forward. "And we're here to help you and your casket. A device was malfunctioning, and we had to go to the depths of the tomb to retrieve a replacement. I'm Riku Asakura, a friend of your wife, Meresankh."
Trudy Grimm	"Your mausoleum is quite impressive, Queen Meresankh," Trudy comments once inside the elevator. A few paces behind her strides the Black Knight; large portions of his armor missing but his desiccated unliving body still mostly intact thanks to Lissandra (for a given value of 'intact'). As the elevator begins moving, he slumps against one of the walls and slides down until he looks very much like a piece of environmental storytelling; the battered warrior, long dead, covered in a thousand wounds, clad in broken armor and alongside a deeply scarred sword. With a sigh, the witch gestures. The Knight's shadow darkens, then consumes him, "He's such a careless soul, ahaha~. I'll be putting metal back on him for a while, yet." -- Henutep bows and Trudy briefly appraises his posture. He reminds her a lot of the Black Knight, but perhaps with more self-control and less immediately obvious asshole brutality. She hums thoughtfully but patiently, regarding him while Meresankh works, having little knowledge or fascination with such wild technologies beyond her understanding. The two skeleton porters set their devices down gently, then disappear into shadows as the Knight had before. > "No, I'm not ready for-" > "Our sovereign's consort awakens anew!" "Mm~?" It's more Isepteh's proclamation than Meresankh's murmuring that gets her attention; Trudy had presumed the sound was normal up until the vague objection and the Herald's excitement alerted her. Her head turns but her body doesn't, regarding the emerging skeleton-robot in royal finery. > "The awakening of Lady-Nemesor Nakhtmut, grand general of the Legions of Oryx, chosen of our Sovereign!" > ""What are these rats doing in my hall? Explain yourselves!" Meresankh's retreat elicits a little laugh from the witch, though she understands completely. It's a concern the Queen had put voice to already. This sort of disconnect was somewhat expected, based on what Meresankh had said. Trudy shifts her posture to face Nakhtmut directly and flares her hands out to either side, dipping at the waist in a polite curtsey. "Trudy Grimm, a witch who speaks with departed souls," As she comes up from the gesture, she rests one hand on the spine of the tome hanging at her side, her other resting on the book's strap, "I came at the request of Queen Meresankh to ensure your slumber was safe," She gestures gently towards the robot woman behind Henutep, "That you have chosen to awaken is a surprise. I am honored to be in your presence."
Calvin Nash	What are these rats doing in my hall? Explain yourselves! Calvin is not thrilled about suddenly having to participate in This conversation. Chernobog: Could it be...? Will I witness the death of something thousands of years in the making? He closes the COMP's monitor harder than he needs to and clears his throat. "Ma'am," he says, COMP-hand palm outward in that particular way that government officials do when uttering that particular word. "We went to a lotta trouble to wake you up as a favor to your wife. Whatever else you got goin' on, I'm gonna need you to work out with her, and leave us the hell out of it." "Thank you."
UFO Gang	Nazrin and Minamitsu stand in the elevator coming up. Neither of them look particularly stoked, although it's a long enough ride that both of them -- since neither of them is exactly a little girl -- are able to settle their kettles, somewhat. Minamitsu stared at the wall for most of the ride up, before finally settling enough to unlimber her anchor -- which had taken several sharp blows from the Flayed Ones' claws. She runs her thumb over the deep divots on the iron hook's exterior, then rubs her neck. Minamitsu swallows, nods, and slings it back onto her back. Nazrin did some deep breathing and settled down, reaching down to adjust her somewhat dishevelled clothing back into some degree of order. She contemplates a place where part of the outer coat is torn, but decides, perhaps, she can't do anything about it. "... I guess Don Shine would'a come through that safe, too, huh?" Minamitsu said to Riku BEFORE The door opens. The royal warden, Henutep! Both girls bow, though Minamitsu almost overbalances and pitches over. This means Nazrin is the first one off the <s>boat</s> elevator, looking around. "You cared for it really well," Nazrin says in the tone of moderate social reticience to Henutep. During the wait, Minamitsu says, "... should I get a tomb?" "For what?" Nazrin asks. "I mean, for my body," Minamitsu continues, folding her arms. "Aren't you using it?" Nazrin asks, reaching over to poke Minamitsu in the hip as if by way of emphasis. "Behold, thou art incarnate." "That's not the point," Minamitsu huffs quietly, before both of them fall silent. The announcement rings outwards! Their eyes widen! And then Nakhtmut speaks. Her first questions are answered. Meresankh steps forwards -- and is rejected? Minamitsu gasps, quietly, one hand going over her heart. Nazrin takes this phlegmatically, although when Nakhtmut refers to them as rats, Nazrin corrects her: "Mice." After she says that, Nazrin takes a step to the right to be mostly-behind Minamitsu. On the spot, Minamitsu's eyes swivel left and right, lips pursing. Is she going to have to try to take this one!? When Calvin steps forwards she exhales enormously, shoulders slumping forwards.
Schneider Greco	Schneider's in no hurry to disembark the elevator. Maybe she's catching her breath, while pretending she's too cool and relaxed to ever need to do such a thing. "Shame you won't need the hands-on approach for injuries that small, then." "Then should I have been hurt worse, my-la-dy Witch?" she teases Lissandra, near the top. "Mmmh, you are-not teaching me to be care-ful, if there is such a thing as 'too good to need your care'." As lightly as the thin wisps of smoke still rising from her guns, she says to Lilian, stepping out: "You have, mmmh, quite a tal-ent, right? My eyes still haven't followed it... I begin to feel a lit-tle rude, my-la-dy, for how gentle you were with me." It's not a sincere apology, but it is close to sincere praise. . . . "No... I'm not ready for-" She's lounging and chatting nearish Meresankh, behind-and-to-the-side, when she catches those words. "... My-la-dy? Should you not be happy?" It's unexpected, she's gathered. But Meresankh's shrinking retreat, the icy-frightened reaction to "Where is my beloved?"... it crosses her mind that Meresankh might be an impostor to the throne, but that doesn't seem to fit the other facts. "I was called to see to your health," Schneider says, without looking Nakhtmut in the eye. A clammy weight of suspicion is forming in her stomach. She turns. "This rat will ex-cuse herself, for the mo-ment...?" She doesn't excuse herself far, stepping back to touch Meresankh's arm and catch her eyes questioningly. What does she want to do, here? Has she any plan at all?
Flamel Parsons	Flamel Parsons continues to look like worn crap. But hey! All is well, the transducer is retrieved. "Hey, no sense crediting us for work before you inspect the materials!" He says, beaming cheerfully. "I had such a richly interesting variety of scary half-mentalities to get exposed to down there though. If I were as focused as I used to be on data and information to fill in gaps, I would be asking to go there again sometime!" "I'm not, though, so let's never go there again." He's sitting and mostly zoning out when the sealed casket begins to hum. Deep in the Parsons Institute, the soft rumble sounds through it and the records department spring into action, struggling to pull heavy filing cabinets back upright and yank papers out, shouting: "What do we know about-- hey!!" "--Anyone have 'necron culture'?! Is that in--" "--has to be under 'skeletons'! They're--" "--under 'aliens' you moron! It's--" "We've got nothing. Communications, you gotta improvise." "Improvise?! This anomaly--" A radio barks. "Skeleton to skeleton conversation." "Hi there! Welcome back to the land of the conscious, Mrs. Grand General Lady Nemesor!" Flamel Parsons beams brightly as he navigates the titles, flickering light still shining in the spirit of his enthusiasm. "I'm Flamel Parsons, agent of a vague," He baps one half-closed hand against its opposite pal, "Yet ominous secret order, and I don't look it at the moment but I'm actually part temporally-displaced semiensouled-skeleton just like you! You're among, well, not peers but sympathetic ears." He does turn back to Meresankh, scratching one cheek. "You aren't actually an usurper, right? I wasn't fully clear." Between the two, his smiling remains unfading while he treads water on focus and coherence. "You know, if you have an explanation that's unbearable to say but beyond your ability to mentally process, I've do have just the thing, depending on what you and your wife's boundaries are about mental privacy!" A phrasing directed to both. "This is definitely a memory vault type of scenario if I've ever seen one." One bouncing, pointing hand. An index finger lands on a pointed index towards Iseptah. "Or, you're seeming like a really proud one. I bet you can explain it in formal detail!" Which might be the worst possible outcome. "I'm sure you know how to handle this on behalf of your sovereign."
Lissandra	To Trudy, Lissandra comments about the black knight's recklessness in an airy sort of familiar way. "The larger a man is, the more he thinks he can afford to lose, it seems like." Then to Schneider, she slumps a little in her awkward floating-sideways position overhead, one elbow on the staff and her palm squishing her cheek while she looks down her nose at the sassy younger woman. "You aught to value the wholeness of your body a little more highly, since you were fortunate enough to be pretty." After the group's disembarkment from the elevator platform, Lissandra floats back down from her hastily chosen spot near the ceiling and slides from astride her flying staff back onto her own two feet, flicking her wand aside to dismiss the illusions still clinging to her vicinity. The wand is slotted away at her belt again, and she fixes her hair a bit while walking along just behind the others as they're led. Iseptah gets a small wave when she sees him again, and Henutep a slightly-more-than-a-nod in return to his bow, but she's much more intent on what comes next than making pleasantries with Meresankh's underlings. When Meresankh proactively handles the installation, Lissandra has no complaints. Nothing goes awry with that part, which lets her relax about 1% more. But, things aren't perfect of course. Nakhtmut's initial reaction of confusion and even derision, Lissandra takes more or less in stride with an unspeaking frown, but... The reaction to Meresankh, on the other hand, and the demand for explanation? "Ah. So that's what this is about." she nearly deadpans, letting out a long and slow sigh and briefly touching her forehead as if to mime a headache that isn't really there. She pauses, breathes back in, and allows herself just a bit more complaintive muttering, "We could have prepared for this, but I suppose here we are and here we will be," as she tries to resolve to make the best of what's surely going to be a very awkward conversation. After getting out of her own head following the turn-of-moods, she addresses Nakhtmut first. "Lissandra. You can think of me as a doctor for now, though I had yet to minister to you in any way. Rather, as the others said, our group simply helped revive you. At her request, of course." She then helps nudge Meresankh with a light but firm hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to braven up under pressure with some gentle pushing and pulling. More softly, she says for Meresankh to hear, "There's only one way out; through. You love her, don't you? So go on. If the topic needs to be muted, I'll handle it."
Swords of Justice	Medusa just awkwardly looks around at the conversation between the two Necrons, her usual stoic face twisted into one of confusion. Is... Is she supposed to be here? Is anyone supposed to be here? This seems rather personal. She doesn't say anything. Instead, she just gives an apologetic bow as she just quietly excuses herself from the room to wait for it to be over. Shirou, meanwhile, listens to the two, but can't quite figure out what they're talking about. He turns to look at Medusa, ready to ask if she knows, before realizing she had left. Why would she... Well, he's an adult, so it's not like he can't look after himself. Still, he'd really wish she'd let him know if she was going to walk out on something important like this. With her gone, however, he needs someone else to help him, so his gaze slowly turns to Calvin, a pleading look in his eyes as he talks in a hushed tone. "Hey. What... What's going on exactly?"
Lilian Rook	The elevator back out is where Lilian does her uncommonly seen usual; verbal confirmation that all five transducers are accounted for, a re-stating of the next objective, a quick roll call for injuries, readiness check, and calm reminder that the op is over when everyone is back home. She flicks open her gun, examines the action, removes the unused amalgam, reassembles a partial stack into a full one by inserting the spare segments, sets her sword out over her hands for visual examination up and down, wipes sci-fi fluids and clinging dust from the blade down both sides, and then rotates the joints closest to the hits she'd taken to her armour just to be sure. Of course, 'the operation isn't over until it's over' is something you often say when it really is over, actually. Standing around and waiting for Meresankh to finish up the repairs is only very technically within her job description her; Lilian vividly imagines a mad skeleton jumping out of the coffin and turning into a crackling green lightning-themed boss fight, but can't imagine that particular eventuality really occurring; so she stamps it 'heartless tornado' in her mind and files it away. Time spent bodyguarding an engineer in an only technically unsafe neutral zone isn't unfamiliar to her, so she passes it with small-talk with the other Elites. Or at least what could possibly pass for it under the circumstances. 'You have, mmmh, quite a tal-ent, right? My eyes still haven't followed it... I begin to feel a lit-tle rude, my-la-dy, for how gentle you were with me. "My 'arcane skill', you mean?" Lilian says, arch emphasis dialed as high as she can, even though she knows it's already a sealed subject. "Vertin said something similar." She casually looks at something else in the big barren empty tomb at the second part. "Taking someone alive is difficult to do with a sword. And White did an excellent job running interference." 'I'm not, though, so let's never go there again.' "Oh? Did that ordeal finally knock some sense into you? Because I agree." Lilian says, laughing once through her nose. And yet, her own words, 'it isn't over until you're home', come back to haunt her. Because right at the moment Lilian allows her guard to slip-- to believe that this is pointless busywork before they lead the queens back to their thrones and be done with it-- the tornado comes sailing back in out of the clear blue yonder and crashes into the Pentagon. 'What are these rats doing in my hall? Explain yourselves!' §Oh god. Please. Anywhere but here.§ Lilian starts holding her breath, and slowly takes two steps backwards. 'Or, you're seeming like a really proud one. I bet you can explain it in formal detail!' She looks at Flamel and slowly shakes her head with as much gravitas as possible. 'We could have prepared for this, but I suppose here we are and here we will be' "Believe in the future." Lilian says, incomprehensibly. "We can be anywhere."
Lilian Rook	'Hey. What... What's going on exactly?' Lilian places her hand Casually Yet Firmly on Shirou's shoulder. She squeezes enough to put his collarbone at a mild level of danger. "You know how I'm always telling you 'don't worry about it'?" she says, turning her head and shielding her mouth with her hand to the side. "I'm not simply dismissing you as an idiot you know; it means that it's a topic that's better for you to know nothing about." In the heat of the moment, Lilian lies for reasons that aren't very good, at a time she probably shouldn't. "I don't know what this is, but I can sense that this is a time like that." 'We went to a lotta trouble to wake you up as a favor to your wife. Whatever else you got goin' on, I'm gonna need you to work out with her, and leave us the hell out of it.' §Thank god. Someone normal. At least I can count on--§ §--Calvin Nash?! Oh god you're joking.§ "I believe that would be for the best." Lilian says, immediately after him. "This is doubtlessly a conversation for royal ears, after all. We had only been tasked with retrieving the parts necessary for emergency repair."
Meresankh	Riku nudges Meresankh with her elbow which, since she's on an antigravity column, causes her to float out from behind her bodyguard whether she wants to or not. She remains silent for longer than would be polite, especially considering she's talking to (or not talking to) her wife of all people. Nakhtmut takes the initiative again after regarding Trudy's greeting with a sort of curious scorn. "Someone is showing proper respect, I see. An expert in the deceased, indeed. If what you all speak of is true, then..." The Necron general looks at Meresankh, marginally less scornful and rather more curious. "Have you changed more than just your name, this time? Prove to me that you are mine. Tell me something only Meresankh, and not a pretender, would know." Meresankh nearly balks again but finally gets over herself long enough to react. She floats at last up to right in front of Nakhtmut, leans close, and whispers something. It's too quiet for an ordinary person to make out, but those with amplified hearing catch a nervously delivered anecdote-nutshell about a hunting-beast that a youthful Nakhtmut had insisted be named 'Wiggles'. The general grumbles, affirmative but exasperated. Calvin: "We went to a lotta trouble to wake you up as a favor to your wife. Whatever else you got goin' on, I'm gonna need you to work out with her, and leave us the hell out of it." Nakhtmut raises a metal eyebrow theatrically. "She called on you all for aid? What could beings so primitive offer to a monarch of the greatest empire in the galaxy?" "They are- they are not primitive!" insists Meresankh, who has backed some distance away from Nakhtmut again. "Much has changed during our sleep. In myself, in the empire, in the universe. It can all be explained, I simply ask that you trust me and give me time." Schneider gently touches Meresankh's arm, shares a look with the Necron queen. What emotions can be read on Meresankh's face are run through with trepidation: she may fear no enemy, not even the Necron empire itself, but a wife is a different matter entirely. Meresankh shifts an inch or two closer to Schneider, not hiding behind someone this time but seeking solidarity. Lissandra introducing herself and stancing up as well seems to also bolster the queen's frayed resolve. "These people are my allies and honored guests, Nakhtmut. I ask that you respect them as well as I do." The nemesor only hmphs. Flamel: "I don't look it at the moment but I'm actually part temporally-displaced semiensouled-skeleton just like you!" Nakhtmut stiffens, a remarkable feat for someone already so stiff. "We are not alike, even if you think we are. You are no Necron, and the creations of other species pale in comparison to our own artifice. Meresankh's inventions alone are proof of that." Flamel: "You aren't actually an usurper, right? I wasn't fully clear." "The throne of Oryx has always belonged to me, and to the woman I chose to share it with," Meresankh says with a half-gesture toward Nakhtmut. "This solution you offer... I have not prepared my thoughts, my experiences, into adequate words for my beloved. If you can ease our communication, make it so." Lilian: "This is doubtlessly a conversation for royal ears, after all." Meresankh glances over her shoulder at Lilian, then back to Flamel. "Especially if you can ease that communication in some private fashion..."
Riku Asakura	BEFORE '... I guess Don Shine would'a come through that safe, too, huh?' "Hard to say, I think he would have struggled just like we did. He'd have taken some hits and then, when the chips were down, would have come through with a Don Shine Kick!" Riku grins at Minamitsu, sure his hero would come through in the end. AFTER Riku nods to Meresankh, who is asked to share something only she would know with Nakhtmut. He's all smiles, trying to be supportive of his friend. Though his smile wanes as Nakhtmut is... let's say less than nice about their support in reviving her. Or their continued presence in her home. It's hard to say how things will end. He whispers to Meresankh when he has a moment, "Good job, just baby steps, right? She hasn't seen you in a very long time, right? Surely you can bridge any gap with your love." Riku says, always the optimist.
Trudy Grimm	> "Someone is showing proper respect, I see. An expert in the deceased, indeed." The witch dips her head slightly in acknowledgement. She shoots an acidic look at Flamel when he asks if Meresankh is an usurper, though relaxes when the Queen rapidly settles that matter with an anecdote she cannot personally hear; though would probably find charming if she did. Meresankh getting Nakhtmut to stand down in that grumpy way puts Trudy in a state where she actively resists the urge to laugh. No, no, that wouldn't be proper right now. Laughing at the imperious royal general would be a Bad Thing. Instead, she hooks in on something Lilian says. > "This is doubtlessly a conversation for royal ears, after all." "My comrade raises an excellent point. If it pleases you, Queen Meresankh and Queen Nakhtmut, I will excuse myself. No doubt there is much to catch up on which is not to be heard by one such as I." Handling the possibly violent royals with the Ultra Polite Gloves is the best she has to offer. The sooner she is not in line of sight to someone with titles like 'Nemesor' and 'General' and an intensely grumpy disposition, who only just woke up and hasn't even had the Necron equivalent of tea yet, the better. Trudy clearly expects herself to slip out of this formal manner of speaking before long, and also clearly doesn't want to even think about the consequences of that.
Lilian Rook	'Have you changed more than just your name, this time? Prove to me that you are mine.' §Get me out of here. Get me out of here right now.§ 'Tell me something only Meresankh, and not a pretender, would know.' §I have got to get out of here!!!§ 'She called on you all for aid? What could beings so primitive offer to a monarch of the greatest empire in the galaxy?' 'They are- they are not primitive!' Lilian's mind wanders. Her soul exits her body. She astral projects into the akashic archive of world-memory and thinks about anything else right now. The Cryptark comes to mind again, flowing smoothly into the subject of the Silver's star-mother, then to Dimo's explanation of her advanced alien culture's idea of outreach. From there, to Dimo's fawning admiration over what'd happened to her leg after it'd been blown clean off and then 'healed', and to the subject more properly; Emery, then Sakura, then the Voyager, then the fact that her world has strictly accomplished nothing at all in the last eight hundred years of re-randomizing the same seed. She doubles back to the leg thing, because that feels genuinely more comforting right now. 'This solution you offer... I have not prepared my thoughts, my experiences, into adequate words for my beloved.' "I feel as if you really might've done that before we went into the catacombs." Lilian blurts out, a little bit lost in thought. "I have no idea what's going on right now and I don't know how you expect me to help." she says, doubling down. 'Surely you can bridge any gap with your love.' Lilian bows her head and pinches the bridge of her nose with two fingers. She makes herself imagine that Meresankh actually is a usurper to the throne. She imagines that a demented sci-fi lesbian skeleton kill-and-replace fantasy is happening right before her eyes. What is her job as a fellow Paladin here? What does she have a duty to? "I think we're supposed to call human resources first." she mutters to Riku. "Check some records."
UFO Gang	(In the elevator, Minamitsu laughed, with some relief. "Yeah! He would've had to break a sweat, even if he came through fine!" Riku gets a smile. Whatever other weird stuff is going on with Minamitsu - and there is a bunch - she is, at least, a cheerful young woman.) When Flamel admits to being a Necron in disguise, Minamitsu's head swivels to look at him. She has completely accepted this. It is her new reality, not least because she was maybekindasorta traumatized by the back half of the tomb situation a minute ago. Nazrin looks round momentarily, perhaps in case she's going to get flank-attacked by talking mess. For a moment, she looks at Schneider with appraisal, then towards Lilian, then back out again. "I think this is going well," Nazrin says in the quiet tones of the sidelines watcher. "Explain," Minamitsu says after a long moment best summarized as C___C, her arms folding in front of her mostly to avoid feeling like she ought to weigh anchor in anticipation of EVIL SKELETON ROBOT CLAWS anew. "She's cogent and she's not attacking," Nazrin continues. She looks to Riku and gives him an extremely conjectural thumbs up. "She's been asleep for like an entire kalpa. Good plan," and Nazrin sidle-sidle-sidles over to be near Trudy, bowing deep enough to show her mouse-tail several times while making a big show of walking backwards. She asks Trudy, sotto voce, "Should we do it on our knees?"
Calvin Nash	Hey. What... What's going on exactly? Calvin turns from his spot with an almost stony hesitance, as if moving at all right now were a burden. He shakes his head solemnly. "What Lilian said. If it seems like somethin' we shouldn't be in the middle of, it's 'cause that's what it is." What could beings so primitive offer to a monarch of the greatest empire in the galaxy? "Well, now, let's see." Calvin opens his COMP. .inv Clearing his throat, he lists off a few spent items from his inventory. "Fire support with 'bout a week's worth of work far as custom-made arcane shotshell, for one. Emergency medical supplies and magical pick-me-ups. Mix-and-match heavy hitters and backliners, experience fightin' close-quarters, gettin' into and out of hostile territory with enough supplies to last, temporary petrification for transportin' your cursed and diseased subjects so Meresankh and a different primitive rat from yours-truly can get to work curin' the curse that's been eatin' at 'em the past umpteen thousand years." Closing the COMP after giving his inventory, "Oh, and real-time map-makin'. " Calvin hooks his thumbs into his belt loops. "Now. I know you meant that all philosophical-like, and most times, okay, I'd indulge you," he says, nodding his head. "Have us a little back and forth about the history of my lil' ol' backwater species since monkey times. Believe it or not, this here caveman knows his ass from a hole in the ground. But right now, ma'am, what I'd really like is to get the hell out of here, 'cause I came here prepared for curses and diseases, but not nobody's personal shit, and what I ain't got is experience as no marriage counselor."
Flamel Parsons	"You are no Necron, and the creations of other species pale in comparison to our own artifice." "Oh, probably! It's only part." Flamel says, nod-nod-nodding eagerly. "I'm just trying to make it clear that that I'm a very sympathetic ear here." To both! A quick turn to Meresankh, and he's nodding repeatedly. He points Meresankh's skeleton wife. "Alright, hang tight, this will get a little weirder than you're used to." Yoink. He and Nakhtumut have their astral forms diving into a far flank of Meresankh's mentality. Far, far into some fringe side-layers. A vast crypt within Meresankh's mind where, for a subjective hour or two, he and Nakhtumut (and perhaps anyone who managed to hitchhike into the brain with him) clean up and restore various large talking skulls in an assortment of tombs to get them in lively working order to enable an upcoming marriage ceremony being held in a mausoleum. Obviously, this has to be done by way of platforming, infrequent combat with bone-themed censors, and a 'socket market' fetch sidequest where they have to swap various skeletons' limbs to enable them to perform key staffing functions at the marriage. All of this, inevitably, themed around Meresankh's sheer overwhelming dedication to the restoration of her people and their minds. Anyway, all of this is in order to access a Mental Vault, a psychic construct containing a deep secret Meresankh doesn't want to have out in the open. Once the mental wedding is complete and the many deceased celebrate their clarity of mind and spirit, the access to a hidden chamber allows Nakhtumut to see Meresankh's memories of a tremendous personal change in great detail -- perhaps agonizing personal depth. Flamel tries to make sure only Nakhtumut is the only one to see it. It doesn't look like a lot on the outside. Once he and the Necron general are back in the material plane, he wonders aloud, astonished, bright, and friendly: "I think it's so interesting, that aliens can do impossible alien things with gender! That's such wild stuff."
Schneider Greco	Under any other circumstance, Schneider would be saucily prying Lilian about her incantations and teasing Lissandra back about being 'born pretty'. Unfortunately, weightier things press on her. By the corner, behind Henutep, Schneider speaks with Meresankh in hushed and urgent tones. Elites near the back of the party might overhear pieces; Nakhtmut is unlikely to. PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco hisses, aside, "My-la-dy, whatever you tell me I will understand, but what was your plan?" PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco says, "Had you a hun-dred more years to prepare, what would you have done with it?" PHONE: Meresankh says, "My plan did not include her waking so soon! Replacing the transducer should not have caused this!" PHONE: Meresankh says, "I... with more time I could have..." PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco says, "You did-not hope she'd sleep forever, so what?" PHONE: Meresankh says, "I don't know! I don't know if I could have ever felt ready for this. There, I said it." PHONE: Meresankh says, "This- So much is different now and I can't know that she'll come to accept it all." PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco deflates. "... Per-haps." PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco says, "Why have your other servants not rejected you?" PHONE: Meresankh says, "...because I was their King when I first awoke. They were there for the process, and not only the... result." PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco sounds softly disbelieving. "... And they did not de-cry you?" PHONE: Meresankh says, "Some of them did, when I declared we would leave the Empire. They called me mad, afflicted with sentiment for our enemies. But I did not lose many over... becoming a woman." Partway through her sharp-soft-voiced conspiring, Schneider rubs her face with both hands, still holding her handguns. PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco breathes out again, slowly. "... My-la-dy, do you want me to re-move her, or re-move you?" PHONE: Meresankh says, "Re-- remove??" PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco says, "This will not go well. Sure-ly you don't mean to spend the night?" PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco says, "... I as-sume, my-la-dy, you don't want me to shoot her, but..." PHONE: Meresankh says, "I can stay in the workshop. Or perhaps she on her war-cruiser..." PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco says, "War-cruiser? My-la-dy, she may kill you." PHONE: Meresankh says, "She-- She wouldn't." PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco says, ". . ." PHONE: Meresankh says, "...Perhaps some time alone in the tomb complex to think on this could do her some good. I could arrange other accommodations for myself, take a few of my retainers." PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco says, "No. As-sume that an-y-one you leave with her, unless com-plete-ly loyal, she will turn against you. No-one who could be swayed should be a-lone with her, my-la-dy." PHONE: Meresankh says, "I- I cannot take the whole planet. Wouldn't that make it harder for her to accept me?" PHONE: Phoning Meresankh, Schneider Greco says, "You can-not control, my-la-dy, how much harm she means you. On-ly what is to hand for her to make it so."
Calvin Nash	I think it's so interesting, that aliens can do impossible alien things with gender! That's such wild stuff. Calvin's head snaps towards Flamel in a way that, thus far, it has only done towards Petra. The keen-eyed can spot either a vein or a tendon bulge in the side of his neck, his right hand flying from his belt, fist clenched briefly but for the beginnings of one of his infamous points. He remembers where he is, stops himself, and simply utters a disciplinary, "Flamel," much in the way that he does to Petra.
Flamel Parsons	"Flamel." "Calvin!" Flamel, happily, back at him. Also technically the way he does to Petra, which is also how he does towards every single other person universally. He literally cannot understand the idea of having done anything inappropriate right now.
Swords of Justice	You know how I'm always telling you 'don't worry about it'? I'm not simply dismissing you as an idiot you know; it means that it's a topic that's better for you to know nothing about. "I see..." Shirou just sort of nods, ignoring the pressure on his collarbone as best he can. He knows Lilian is just looking out for him in her own way, and he respects that... But he's unfortunately the type of person who can't let these sorts of things go unanswered. Hopefully Calvin can give him the answer he's looking for- What Lilian said. Shirou frowns incredibly deeply.
Schneider Greco	Following her murmured conspiring, Schneider waltzes up behind Lilian and Flamel at the party's fore. "My-la-dy Rook," she says, "there will be no need to, ahhh, 'pull records'. Our la-dy Meresankh, she is a Paladin, right? This is... an in-ti-mate affair, which was nev-er meant for ears like ours. Our first thought, I think, should be towards... ahhh... en-sur-ing the stability, of her kingdom. Yes? And giv-ing them space, from each-other and ourselves." "I think it's so interesting, that aliens can do impossible alien things with gender!" "Flamel." Invisible to those in front of her, without a waver in her casual smile, Schneider gently nudges the back of Flamel's neck with the cold muzzle of her handgun. She doesn't know how better to silently convey the sentiment.
Calvin Nash	"Don't you 'Calvin' me," Calvin testily answers Flamel, the Point out in force. "I ain't fixin' to let a grown-ass man smile at me like a dog that just shit on the rug and don't figure he got caught." "You make another remark like that and you and me are gonna have a talk about respectin' women."
Flamel Parsons	"You make another remark like that and you and me are gonna have a talk about respectin' women." "Oh!" Flamel turns quickly back to Meresankh. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking, 'alien' was inappropriate to say. That was insensitive of me!"
Lilian Rook	'Oh, and real-time map-makin'.' Lilian really, truly does not like that her first thought was 'thank god; someone who can do what I'd do while I'm unable to'. Because he looks like a stupid fucking hokey down-south jackass according to her, and she's staring at his stupid thumbs in his stupid belt loops and listening to him say 'monkey times' and blearily thanking every power in the universe that he has no fucking clue what's happening and doesn't intend to ask or ever think about it again, and Lilian would really rather think of anyone else here as 'the professional'. But even that is better than the alternative of having nobody else like that here at all, so as much as she hates it, she can at least rest easy-- 'I think it's so interesting, that aliens can do impossible alien things with gender! That's such wild stuff.' Lilian releases Shirou's collarbone; her hand impulsiely leaps for her holstered gun instead, gripping it with white-knuckled intent. Schneider saves her whatever it is that she was going to do next. It also makes her aware that she's looking, at which she conjures up an arched brow and impatient sigh out of some deep inner reserve of strength and will, drumming her fingers on her gun handle as if it were merely an idle habit. 'there will be no need to, ahhh, 'pull records'. Our la-dy Meresankh, she is a Paladin, right?' "That's exactly why it should be our responsibility to check. If there's been foul play, it'll be simple to spot with a close examination; otherwise we can easily verify the claim with our paper trail." she says, straining to sound neutral and credulous. 'Our first thought, I think, should be towards... ahhh... en-sur-ing the stability, of her kingdom. Yes? And giv-ing them space, from each-other and ourselves.' She narrows her eyes at Schneider, already starting to wonder why a Manus Vindictae and Concord agent would care about the stablity of a Paladin ally's kingdom, but Lilian wants to be out of this situation so badly that she'd rather deal with the consequences of that being right than she would argue about it. "If you can ensure there won't be an immediate bloodbath as soon as I put them out of my sight, then that wouldn't be a violation of the expectations set out for me." she says, forcing 'aloof' a little too hard.
Riku Asakura	'I think we're supposed to call human resources first.' Riku, who is caught completely off guard by this comment, looks to Lilian and stares at her blankly for a moment. "I don't understand..?" he whispers back to her, literally not understanding why they need to contact their HR representative over Meresankh's wife. He's completely clueless. 'She looks to Riku and gives him an extremely conjectural thumbs up.' Riku gives Nazrin a thumbs-up, happy to have someone who agrees with his beliefs. Backing up Meresankh with her love is something Riku believes in wholeheartedly. There is no reason why this won't break his little heart later.
Meresankh	Calvin itemizes the aid he's provided to Meresankh, and by the end of his account Nakhtmut is ever so slightly nodding along. "A broad arsenal," admits the nemesor. Then, to Meresankh: "And this assistance proved of use?" "You would not have awakened safely without their aid." Nakhtmut turns back to Calvin and is about to ask a genuinely-interested question about the supply lines he depends on for such a versatile toolbox, when Flamel zoinks her into Meresankh's brain. Much platform-adventure-collect-a-thon-ing later, Psychonaut and Nemesor emerge from the depths of Meresankh's emotions like Virgil and Dante from the underworld. At once Nakhtmut's attention is back on the queen. "You have been awake for several years," "Yes!" "In which time you have become a woman," "Yes." "Rebuilt your body," "Yes! Do you like it?" "Made many new friends," "Yes," "Joined these 'Paladins'," "Yes..." "And cut ties with our dynasty and empire alike." "...Yes." "Did you even once consider seriously that these may be decisions for us to make together?" At last, Meresankh breaks eye contact with her wife. "I suppose I did not." "Hmph."
Lilian Rook	'I see...' "You didn't see anything." Lilian says with the authority of a very cross and impatient hypnotist. 'You make another remark like that and you and me are gonna have a talk about respectin' women.' 'Oh! Sorry. I wasn't thinking, 'alien' was inappropriate to say. That was insensitive of me!' "Do you drink?" Lilian says to Shirou, hurried and without looking. "No of course not. Ice cream then. Or McDonalds. Whatever you people do; we're ahead of schedule, so we have time if we leave now."
Lilian Rook	'I don't understand..?' §Multiple teenager alert. Multiple Japanese teenaged boy alert!§ "Because we can verify that Meresankh obviously isn't a different person claiming the position to usurp the throne, obviously." Lilian hastily rattles off to Riku, before anyone else can say anything. "The Paladins vets extremely thoroughly. You wouldn't believe what they knew about me before I received my confirmation letter. Once that's established, we'll be able to assess whatever issue has occured over thousands of years of stasis and wear and tear." She doesn't outright call Nakhtmut 'crazy and delusional', but she is implicitly priming everyone else to accept her gaslighting her later. 'You have been awake for several years,' 'Yes!' 'In which time you have become a woman,' 'Yes.' 'Rebuilt your body,' 'Yes! Do you like it?' §You're joking. Parsons fucks up so badly that everyone is talking about it just a week ago and everyone is talking about me again, and then the one time he actually just succeeds without complication it's this?! Come on! Keep your voices down!§ "Or, well, I suppose it's already sorted." Lilian hastens to conclude, ignoring how lame it sounds. "Through means of communication and thought that human minds could scarcely begin to grasp anyways. Which of us hadn't expressed a preference regarding payment again?"
Calvin Nash	That was insensitive of me! "That ain't the half of it," says Calvin, annoyed enough by Flamel's response that he can't wind down as easily as otherwise. "It ain't some brand-new idea that just jumped up and bit you in the ass," he says, lifting both hands and waving them in mocking jazz-hand style. "My world got fucked to pieces by them bombs, but even we got demons we can ask about old times, and get an answer that's halfway right. It goes back to the Greeks, at least. Just 'cause nobody ever ran out and led you to it don't mean it never existed. And it damn sure don't mean it coulda only come from space aliens. Learn your history sometime. Ya dumbass." Whatever you people do; we're ahead of schedule, so we have time if we leave now. Picking up the tail end of that conversation, "Let's get the hell out of here."
Meresankh	After a long pause Meresankh glances at Schneider again, then back at Nakhtmut. "I... understand there is much to take in. That was true when I woke up as well. But I could not simply hold Oryx in stasis until you rejoined me. I can... I will prepare our finest luxury-barge for you, and you may stay on it as long as you like, but if you..." Another nervous look at the Elites in general and Schneider in particular. When Meresankh's eyes return to Nakhtmut her tone has at last regained a hint of her usual imperious demeanor. "If you cannot abide my decisions as monarch of Oryx, then it is not the place where you should stay." "You are banishing me? Me?" In the face of Nakhtmut's wrath, Meresankh visibly wilts a little. "I- I am not! You may remain in orbit, wander the system as you please." A pause reminiscent of a deep breath. "If you leave for stars beyond... I will take it to mean that you have made up your mind."
Lissandra	Lissandra's attempt at pushing the Direct Frontal Attack solution has gone ignored, and she's catching on to the general sentiment in the room, especially with what she overhears between Schneider and Meresankh. Really, more importantly than the words she catches, Schneider's rather dramatic flip in expression compared to earlier helps her catch on to a layer of seriousness she'd disregarded before. Somehow it had briefly failed to occur to her that alien/supernatural/undead beings of royal status might also perform a good old assassination over what, to Lissandra at least, feels like quite a superficial concern. Her hand leaves Meresankh's shoulder. In pursuance with Schneider's suggestions, Lissandra tries to change course as gracefully as she can. "If there are concerns, then the inclusion of a third party advisor seems natural, if that's within the providence of-..." Lissandra stops, a bit stunned by the brisk back-and-forth between the two spouses. Her expression is carefully held-still for most of it, but slips slowly toward something almost like secondhand embarrassment near the end of it. She confers with Schneider briefly, her hand touching her face in what might either be a thoughtful posture or one that's not looking forward to something. "... Meresankh, if I may, it might be advisable to take a low-duty period in the next little while. Your wife can speak with Paladin representatives and have all of her questions answered by those who are... Prepared, for such things. There's quite a long gap in consciousness to account for, and it would likely reduce her stress to deal with that before you proceed with anything else. In the meantime, perhaps I should make a few days' stay here, if it please you. To study, as we agreed." It wasn't exactly 'studying as a guest' that she asked for, but she can casually bend the agreement here, just a bit. And that would at least put someone on the scene to keep an eye on things... Not that she's happy that she's the volunteer, exactly, but what can you do?
UFO Gang	Minamitsu's eyes flick back towards Flamel. He's not a Necron??? There is tension then. A telepathic communion. Somehow Minamitsu can feel them pass; Nazrin flattens her ears back against her head, holding her breath. (Nazrin may have heard a little of Schneider's side of the chat, but in Nazrin's opinion Schneider has the right idea. Nazrin is sure, incorrectly, that she'd do the same in Schneider's shoes.) Minamitsu watches... Flamel speaks! Others glare at him quite emphatically. But he seems to be centering his thoughts. Minamitsu cautiously relaxes. Maybe! "Is it going to be like this when we find Lady Hijiri and get her out?" Minamitsu says cautiously, as the two Necrons fence around each other's hearts (or, reactors; but it comes to the same thing). "I hope not," Nazrin replies. "She was always pretty, what do they say now, chilled, anyway."
Swords of Justice	Shirou lets out a sigh of relief as he tries to parse whatever it is Flamel is doing, only to get his attention ripped away once again. Though, honestly, he wasn't doing a very good job. Most he can figure out is that this is some sort of alien love... Dispute? That's not the word probably, but he doesn't have a better one at the moment. Do you drink? "Only on holida-" Ice cream then. Or McDonalds. Whatever you people do; we're ahead of schedule, so we have time if we leave now. "You mean WcDonalds? I guess- Wait, wouldn't it be rude to leave right now?" He says that, but between Flamel seeming to have resolved the problem he still doesn't really get and the increasing hostility between some of the individuals here, maybe it wouldn't be bad to leave. "WcDonalds sounds good, yeah."
Lilian Rook	'Just 'cause nobody ever ran out and led you to it don't mean it never existed. And it damn sure don't mean it coulda only come from space aliens. Learn your history sometime. Ya dumbass.' §And this man had never heard of BISEXUALITY?! I'm going MENTAL!!!§ Lilian silently screams as loud as she can inside her head. The subtle rise and very slow fall of her chest, coupled with her glazed expression and blanched knuckles, surely don't mean anything. 'Did you even once consider seriously that these may be decisions for us to make together?' "Crazy how little she hesitated." Lilian mutters darkly under her breath; a bleak joke for herself and absolutely nobody else. 'In the meantime, perhaps I should make a few days' stay here, if it please you. To study, as we agreed.' Lilian gives Lissandra such a pitying stare. She shakes her head as if to say 'good luck'. 'WcDonalds sounds good, yeah.' "My treat." Lilian says. "Let's have Nash along and call it a debrief."
Schneider Greco	"... then that wouldn't be a violation of the expectations set out for me." Schneider frowns, slightly. Lilian's Aloofness is certainly... well... discomfort around such a topic could mean anything, but probably means one thing. "In which time you have become a woman," That makes Schneider's face slightly flinch too though. There's some things you just never want to hear bellowed at full volume. "It goes back to the Greeks, at least." A slight breath out, simultaneously discomforted and slightly-reassured by Calvin, and... "Which of us hadn't expressed a preference regarding payment again?" "Is now the time, my-la-dy?" says the person with ostensibly the most mercenary interest, a little more sharply than she means to. A moment later she rubs her face with her sleeve, fatigued. . . . Porco dio. A-pol-o-gies." "Did you even once consider seriously that these may be decisions for us to make together?" Lissandra has the situation well in hand, really. Staying for a few days, referring Nakhtmut to Paladins specialists- well, putting a lot of faith in said specialists, but if they're anything like Lissandra herself one could do much worse... The best thing for Schneider to do here is to keep her mouth shut, even if the intimation that transition should be cosigned by a spouse makes the tops of her ears turn slightly red. . . . So she does. "Thank-you, my-la-dy Witch," Schneider murmurs aside, and then politely informs Lilian: "I'll bring drinks." Sure, they could tell her 'fuck off', but are they really going to decline alcohol?
Trudy Grimm	> "Do you drink?" "I can certainly join you for a drink, if you'd have me," Trudy offers, though she wasn't the direct person being asked, "After this venture, some mead will do me good." > "No of course not. Ice cream then. Or McDonalds. Whatever you people do; we're ahead of schedule, so we have time if we leave now." "Ahaha, something tells me mead is off the menu..." She casts a glance back towards Meresankh and Nakhtmut, "Ahh, but I do hope they work this out. They do compliment one another so well in so many ways." The talk of sending the Queen-General out on a starship, and it being taken as banishment, has her wince a bit. Not the decision she would've made; but not her decision to make, either. "I think the newly awakened Queen may only need some time to adjust and process the way things are now."
Lilian Rook	'Is now the time, my-la-dy?' "Now is exactly the time if it gets us all out of this room instead of overhearing every single detail of their personal lives, Greco." Lilian monotones very quickly, staring straight ahead. Then she does dare to glance aside, and her look conveys an even sharper 'read the room already' than she herself intended either. 'I'll bring drinks.' "That sounds wonderful." Lilian says, to an agent of Manus Vindictae, so desperate to get out of here that she doesn't even think twice. "I need one anyways."
Flamel Parsons	"Wow... aliens and precursors..." Flamel whispers, softly, nodding respectfully to Calvin. "I'll internalize that." Back to Meresankh. Flamel rubs the side of his face a little awkwardly. Relationships... He's a bit taken aback by how quickly things move. Thousands of years, and yet so much suddenly happens all at once. That's divorce for you! "If you want," He raises a finger, brightly, to Nakhtumut. "I can help you with emotional readjustment! Let me know if you want to consider supporting your wife's choices," Phrasing. "To be qualified as healing, and I'm sure I can arrange some psychonautry for you too." Then he turns to Meresankh, raises his finger again... And falters slightly. "I don't really know what to offer you! This was the worst timing I've seen in a long time, I'm not sure why my clairvoyance didn't detect a disaster coming up. But I hope everything turns out well! You feel bad right now because your mind is mentally healthy and this is supposed to make a person feel terrible. You should--" He stops, visibly cycling several suggestions for how to make yourself feel better. Eat something nice? No. Watch a comfy movie (do Necrons have those)? No. Spend time with a beloved pet? Flamel tries to imagine petting a sinister scorpion -- no. "No, I guess I don't know what to do. This is really bad!" "I should go."