With her orders given, Kath would begin to make her way to Charme's domain, almost skipping along as she made her way to the almost empty room that held the entrance to the Wishing Well. "Let's see... it was... faun's horns," she said, reaching up to yank on the statue's cornucopia. "Mermaid fin," she followed the statue's form until she was behind it, before twisting the fish woman's appendage. "And then... harpy, harpy, harpy... harpy wings, that's right." Finally, the dragonoid took the avian woman's wings and stretched them apart. Her great memory would be awarded with the sound of a click as the mechanisms within began to stir. Taking a seat upon the edge of the dry fountain, she would wait for the great elevator to complete it's descent into the Wishing Well.

Upon reaching the bottom, Kath pushed herself off the edge and landed gracefully. She would take a moment to brush off her dress of any dirt or dust that may have clung to it during her ride, before glancing up to watch the fountain ascend again. It was only after it had disappeared from sight that she turned back around to proceed to the next area. There before her sat the black door, it's gold trim in particular highlighting it from the blank walls that surrounded it. She knew a simple unlocking spell would do the trick in opening it, but the librarian was in no rush and she always enjoyed the occasional brain teaser, so she placed her hands behind her back and waited for it to tell its question.

Kath would then hear, within her head rather than through her ears, the voice. The voice sounded like that of both a man and a woman, speaking in perfect synchronization, without any lag or differing pronunciation, speed or the like. A perfect unison, though both voices sounded hollow and dry, empty and without feeling or spirit, cold. It asked the Dragonoid a single question, with a slight echoey tone.

"What name had the God of Hubris?" It asked uncaringly.

Unless Rodias had told her the answer, or unless Kath was familiar with ancient Greek mythology, she would not easily be able to guess the correct answer. Furthemore, she only had one shot at this, otherwise the Wishing Well's safety measures would activate, and Kath would have to either leave through the now raised fountain-elevator that she came down with, or get through the black door via other means.

“Hybris,” Kath would say aloud with a smile. While waiting for the door to inevitably grant her access after her answer, she would continue to give even more information than necessary. “Though she would be a goddess, not a god. Her name is where we derive the word ‘hubris’ from. She was also the offspring of Nyx and Erebus, the goddess of night and the god of dark, respectively. Very edgy parents.”

However, instead of opening, she would watch the door shift from black to red, revealing her answer to be incorrect. “What? But-” she began to say before the room began to fill with mudmen. “Oh, how annoying,” she’d say with humph as they began to approach.

Pulling out her Grimoire of the Beyond, she began to recite a spell from its many pages, pointing her fingers at the red door. “Open Greater Lock!” she called out, hoping that her incorrect answer hadn’t locked her out completely. All the while eyeing the ever approaching mudmen. She would prefer to not have them dirty her clothes.

The door did not change color, and as the slowly rising, and now shuffling, mudmen approached with schlorping noises, it seemed momentarily that Kath was going to have to endure a mud-bath. However, as soon as her spell struck the door, it glimmered for a bit and then swung open without a sound. This, of course, didn't stop the mudmen from their advance, but at least the Dragonoid could now move inside the Well and - hopefully - avoid a sticky situation.

Kath would begin to run toward the door, doing her best to twist and turn around the ever approaching hoard of mud. One in particular would slosh right into her path, trying its best to form a barrier of sludge. Only wanting to clear it from her path, the librarian would use a fairly low level fireball to blow it away, before charging through the door to safety. She thought she had enough distance that it wouldn’t get on her. She was wrong.

It was only a few spots, but with how light her clothing was, they might as well have been beacons in the night sky. “Ohhh,” she said, before licking her finger and trying to rub away the small bit of mud that had managed to get on her. As she did her best to clean herself up, she continued to make her way to the center of Charme’s domain.

Once through the small corridor that led from the Black Door into the alchemic workshop proper, Kath would be greeted by the same sight as Rodias had been upon his last departure. It was the Laboratory, though unlike when Rodias had left earlier, it was now abuzz with sound and motion. Alembics and retorts bubbled, fizzed and boiled with various liquids, a cauldron full of what looked like nuclear waste was bubbling over in a corner, the tesla coil-like machine was charging itself up with electricity and sparked and popped at random. The slab where the mangled mutant corpse had been earlier was now clear though, not a trace of it remained.

Charme herself was sitting at a stone desk, legs crossed and scribbling in a red notebook. She seemed very focused, so much so that she had either not heard Kath's approach, or was simply ignoring it in order to focus on her work. The pen danced with swift and precise movements and Charme's stare was unbroken, it didn't seem like she was even blinking as she penned down the words into her little book.

“Dr. Frankenstein would find himself quite at home here,” Kath would say as she took in her surroundings. This was the first time she had seen the Wishing Well with her own eyes and it was quite impressive, reminding her of the many gothic horror and science fiction she had in her library.

Approaching Charme, she would attempt to gain the Homunculus’ attention by clearing her throat. If that didn’t work though, she would stand by and wait for her to finish her work.

As soon as Kath got within eye-shot of the book that Charme was scribbling in though, the alchemist swiftly put her pen down and shut the book close. She sat up straight, in the rather comfortable-looking office chair she was seated in, and turned her head to Kath, a quizzical look upon her face. As she craned her head slightly thought, and looked past the librarian back towards the Black Door, which was now slowly fading from red back to its original color, an amused smirk crawl across the silver-haired beauty's face and she once more looked back to Kath.

"Well now, kitten." She said with a tinge of glee. "Had a little trouble with the door, did we?"

Kath’s cheeks changed to a light shade of pink as Charme seemed to notice the trouble she had run into on her way there. “I think I took the door’s question far too literally,” the librarian admitted, staring down at her feet with a sheepish look on her face.

The homunculus chuckled lightly, before motioning with her arm and hand towards the activated elevator that Rodias had previously re-connected to the rest of the Chateau. Charme raised an eyebrow playfully and smiled her practiced smile as she gestured towards it.

"I told that oaf to have you use the elevator... After all, my front door isn't designed to let just anyone in. Now look what happened, you've got muck and grime on you for no good reason." Charme said - having noticed the specks and stains on Kath's attire - and finally rose from her seat, though not before opening a drawer on her desk and quickly sliding the red notebook she'd been workin on into it, and then shutting it. "Would you like me to get rid of those stains before we get down to business, honey? I suppose you could ask the tuxedo-bones to launder your clothes but..." She paused and shrugged.

".. Seems a bit roundabout when I could just get rid of the dirt here and now." Charme offered, before adding. "Would you like somewhere to sit? Or some refreshments? It's not every day I get a cute little kitten come visit me." The woman offered, being surprisingly generous for being Charme... No, anyone who knew her would pick up on that the reclusive hermit wasn't acting quite right... Too bad most nobody in the Chateau, apart from the now gone Lords and Ladies of Bandersnatchers, did actually know anything about her.

“Oh, if you could that would be very kind. I don’t particularly enjoy looking so filthy,” Kath replied, obviously not used to having even a speck of dirt on her clothes. She could possibly have a single strand of hair sticking up on end and would probably refer to her appearance as disheveled and unorganized.

With Kath’s infrequent interactions with Charme, she wouldn’t pick up on the woman’s magnanimous demeanor for now, instead smiling to the usually more reserved homunculus and replying, “Yes, a cup of tea would be absolutely delightful.” It felt strange to be referred to as a kitten, but she supposed it wasn’t too inaccurate. After all, she didn’t much act like one would usually expect from a mighty dragon.

Rising from her lavish chair, Charme leisurely strolled over to stand close to Kath. Raising a hand, she materialized a small, irregularly shaped box from within her own hammer-space inventory. The carton looked odd, bright red and white in color, with exaggeratedly cartoonish text written on one side that said 'Stain-A-Way'. In YGGDRASIL, this item was a low-tier alchemic recipe, used on things with 'Dirty' or 'Grimy' denotations, to make them more valuable when vendored off to shops. Opening a small compartment on one of the thing’s sides, the homunculus gently shook the box, causing small white grains of powder to gently drop out and into Kath.

Almost at once, any remaining mud dried up in an instant, and crumbled off without any further need to do anything. The stains that were left seemed to just fizzle and fade out, until they were all but gone and none could tell that they'd ever been there to begin with. After Charme inspected Kath, from most all angles except for maybe directly underneath her skirt, and nodded contently that all signs of muck and dirt had been successfully removed.

"Well then, let's go somewhere a bit more relaxing, yes?" She said, returning her detergent to the ether-space it had come from. "This place isn't exactly fit for some girl-talk." Charme added, with a playful wink.

As she had done with Rodias before, she straightened her posture, took a breath and focused her blue eyes on nothing in particular. Then she spoke the words.

"Lounge."

Just as before, all the furniture, all the alchemic instruments, the walls, the floor, the ceiling and everything except for Kath and Charme, turned to grainy, flickering dots of white, black and grey, like the static on a TV with no channels. Kath would also be subjected to the rotating and swirling feeling of being in a far-too-quickly-spinning amusement park's teacup, as the form of the Wishing Well changed at the command of its mistress. The ordeal only lasted for a few seconds though.

Then, as if nothing had happened, Kath found herself in a completely different environment. Gone were the cauldron, alembics, retorts and Frankenstein-esque laboratory, replaced instead by a much more pleasant area. Dark blue panelled walls, dark wood floors, a large square carpet, a lit open fireplace over by one of the far walls, a luxurious looking leather couch, accompanied by three leather arm chairs, which a black-framed glass table stood in between. The soft orbs of light that usually floated about in the Well dimmed in intensity, giving the area a murky, but relaxing atmosphere. Kath would also notice that, upon the aforementioned table, was a small silver tea set, a decanter with what looked to be some kind of lemonade or perhaps a citrus-based energy drink? Along with a small plate of what most assuredly were biscuits. It seemed Charme had prepared for this visit... Or perhaps this room was always like this, in case of visitors? It was impossible to know without asking.

In addition to this though, there was also a large, rectangular and upright aquarium, which was illuminated by small magic crystals. Common goldfish swam around lazily inside. There was also a black, grand piano off in one corner, with a set of sheet music placed above the keys. It all seemed very fancy, but then again Charme was the resident 'entertainer' for the lords and ladies of Bandersnatch, despite the grumblings of her creator, so in a sense this sort of layout was to be perhaps expected of her.

Moving over to one of the armchairs, Charme sat down, with a soft squeak from the leather, and crossed her legs. Leaning slightly forward, she poured a cup of tea for Kath in one of the two empty cups, and then some for herself. Sitting back up, she patted the armrest of her chair as she looked back over to the Dragonoid.

"C'mon then, sweetie. We've got a lot to talk about, and not much time to do so I'm afraid."

After the dirt and mud had left her clothes and Kath had graciously thanked Charme for her help, she would have the pleasure to see with her own eyes just how the homunculus’ domain shifted and changed to meet its masters needs. It was quite the sight. “Wow, so that’s what it looks like,” she said. Of course, her library somewhat changed as well, but not nearly on this scale with it being confined only to the countless shelves that made up The Athenaeum of Historia, and it was always while no one was looking. There was really no comparison.

Back to the new room itself though, the librarian was practically smiling ear to ear as she saw the new theme the room took. This was absolutely perfect. Everything looked so nice and quaint. If not for the fact that she would lose her easy access to her books and her desire to not intrude upon Charme’s home, she could easily see herself making this place her new private reading room. Any thoughts of ghoulish mudmen or macabre laboratories had completely left her mind as she marveled at the lounge.

Happy to accept the invitation, Kath would sit upon the cushion next to Charme after reaching down to make sure her dress didn’t become ruffled as she did so. “Yes, you’re quite right,” she said, picking up the teacup made for her and bringing it to her mouth. She took a moment to relish in its scent before tipping it back and bringing the warm liquid to her lips, daintily sipping it.

Placing her cup back down on its saucer, she asked, “So where do you think we should begin?”

Charme smiled softly back at Kath, taking a sip from her own cup, before gently putting it back down on the saucer with a soft clink. She then proceeded to speak in her typical manner.

"Let's just cut the chase, alright? I never did like beating around the bush." She said bluntly. "I called you here, dear, for three reasons. The first, obviously, is how we're going to go about the whole travelling to and investigating that city our stallion wants us to visit." She said, holding up a hand and a single finger, then raising another. "The second is that I'd like to watch you cast a spell on yourself. To be precise, I'd like you to cast something like [False Life] or [Misinformation]." After which, she raised her third finger. "Finally, and most importantly-" Charme narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to Kath. She was still smiling, but there was something about her eyes that made it clear she wasn't happy. "-I'd like it if you could let me read through all the books with records from when we first arrived in this new, strange world." She said.

Charme leaned back again, reached her raised arm out and gingerly grabbed a biscuit, which she then brought back to her mouth and took a small bite from. Chewing the little crumbly snack, and swallowing, she continued.

"As you're aware, I wasn't exactly present during the initial stages of our.. Heh, relocation." She almost chuckled at the word. "So I've missed out on a great deal of what's been said and done throughout the Chateau. In particular, I'd like to read any logs pertaining to our dear Chapter Keepers and anything involving Rodias." The homunculus stated, flat and bluntly. "It'd be useful for me to catch up on everything that's been going on, don't you think?" She asked, though it was an obviously insincere question. "But each thing in it's own time. It's not like I'd have time to read through all of that right now, so why don't leave that discussion for when we get back home, okay kitten? For now, let's focus on points one and two." The woman then said, smiling warmly with closed eyes, as if the uneasy and somewhat implicative air from before had been all but blown away.

Stallion? A strange name for Rodias in Kath’s opinion, though it wasn’t important enough for her to bring up. So she sat patiently and listened to the three things that Charme wished to discuss with her.

“My dragon form has the ability to fly. It would draw much attention to myself, but if I’m able to travel at night and make sure to land far enough away from the city, my presence should remain mostly undetected. At best, I believe rumors may spread of a dragon flying through the night sky, but unless such creatures are extremely common in this land and we have only been unlucky to not see them ourselves, I believe any witnesses should be dismissed,” she explained. “If you have a better idea though, I’d be happy to hear it.”

Kath would take another sip of her tea before sitting back up and summoning her tome of spells. “As for your second request,” she said before casting False Life with no problem. According to Charme’s eyes, the librarian now looked no stronger than a normal, human girl. Though her horns and tail gave away that her stats were very misleading.

“And finally, your last request. Even if you say it is unimportant compared to the first two, you’ll be happy to know that my library is open to everyone, as long as they tell me they’re taking a book or leave behind a notification for when I return to the Athenaeum. All except for the Forbidden Section, though you’ll know not to go inside when you see it. Most if not all of the records on recent events should be public though, so no need to worry about losing access to such information.”

Charme chuckled slightly when Kath revealed her plan for how to get to the city. It wasn't exactly what Charme had meant or wanted to discuss, but it did bring up something the alchemist had neglected to consider.

"And how would I keep up with you then, dear?" She said in amusement. "Unlike you Chapter Keepers, I wasn't exactly built for huffing long distances or traversing unforgiving terrain. Sure, I can use my coat to fly around a bit, but that's no faster than walking... And I believe Rodias would prefer it if we didn't do anything that drew too much attention., regardless of it being dismissed as a fever-dream or drunken hallucination." The silver-haired woman said, finishing off the remaining bit of her biscuit before going on. "No, I think we should ask the vampires for one or two horses. I can make us a carriage through transmutation, this way we can arrive without having to do needless things like worry about the time of day, or wherever we're seen or not."

Kath nodded in response. While she could have just had Charme ride upon her back for their trip, taking the carriage would draw them much less attention and was most likely the better option. Besides, she always preferred staying in her human form much more than her dragon.

Charme pulled out her slender pipe, but didn't light or fill it. instead, she put it down on the table next to her own tea, before returning to look back at Kath. A sigh escaped her lips.

"Sweetie." She said, eyebrows angled into diagonals and a small frown on her face. "I wanted you to cast the spell when I'd gotten a bit prepared... Copying a spell down onto a scroll requires a bit of prep-work." She stated, revealing her intent as to why she had wanted to see the spell in the first place. "Unlike you, I'm not a very accomplished mage and don't know many spells by heart. However, I can copy spells I see others cast, provided I've got what I need ready..." She trailed off before adding. "... So how long does it last?"

“About thirty minutes I believe, though once we’re inside the city I should be able to reapply it to myself before it dissipates,” the librarian said. “Sorry, the way you said it made it sound like you wanted me to do it now at this very moment.”

After the crickets were done chirping.

The homunculus merely nodded at Kath's response about the books. It seemed that getting a hold of them wouldn't be an issue, and the dragonoid seemed accommodating enough about the entire thing. How fortunate, for Charme had half-expected the librarian to be suspicious or more protective of her collection - but if she was willing to lend her records out, all the better. Still, now wasn't the time to start sifting through what everyone else had been saying and doing up until this point - for now, they'd have to finish their business and then get ready to set off.

“So how long will it take to copy my spell?” she asked, preparing for a long wait if necessary. At least she had some delicious tea to enjoy during her wait if it would be long.

"Not long. Like I said, dear, I just need to be actually prepared." Charme said off-handedly, before pointing to her own eyes, smiling softly. "I'll just need to use one of my own Thaumaturgic spells before you cast your spell, and that should be all it takes." She finished explaining. But, since the two were going to be here for a while, Charme took this opportunity to finish the tea in her own cup, before leaning back in the couch and stretching her arms above her head, making a slight 'mmm'-ing noise as she did - which also caused certain parts of her torso to first rise, and then gently bounce lightly as she relaxed once more. Looking sideways over at Kath, a mischievous grin crawled onto her face.

"So, while we wait, sweetie." She said, voice sweet like honey. "Why don't you share some of your juicy doings with me, hm?" Her eyes were aglow with mischief! "Had a steamy rendevouz with our stallion yet? Or perhaps you fancy someone else in our halls? It's alright, nobody here will know, except me." She scooched a bit closer to Kath and leaned forward, smiling - no - grinning at the dragonoid.

While Kath would see Charme’s stretch cause her generous chest to bounce, she would not focus on it, diverting her eyes away so as to not make the homunculus feel embarrassed. Or at least she would expect her to feel embarrassed about such an action. The librarian knew she would if her’s was much more pronounced.

However, while that hadn’t caused her cheeks to suddenly change to a scarlet color, Charme’s next question certainly would. “S-steamy rendezvous? You mean like-” she began to say, though she knew exactly what the alchemist was insinuating. “No, my relationship with our lord and the other members of the chateau is strictly professional,” Kath said, before taking another sip of her tea. “W-why do you ask? Is there anyone here that you might fancy?”

Charme let out a slight 'Mhmhmhm~'--like laugh at the now somewhat hot and bothered librarian, clearly amused by the other woman's more straightlaced and prudish nature. As Kath asked her own question in rebuttal, possibly to try and make Charme feel embarrassed in turn, the homunculus merely tilted her head ever-so-slightly sideways and smiled mischievously, with naughty half-closed eyes.

"Now, I wonder~ Is there anyone I fancy, hmm?" She playfully said while watching Kath try and distract herself by drinking more of the tea. It was cute, in a way. Still, Charme had more tact than to press on and make others feel uncomfortable, and if Kath wasn't willing to share some juicy gossip, that was fine. There'd be ample opportunity to tease and question her while on their trip to the city later anyway. For the next odd minutes or so, the two women merely spoke about trivial matters and things of no concern. When the time came close to Kath's spell wearing off however, Charme put down her tea cup on its saucer again and rose from the couch.

"[Eyes of Plagiarism]." She said, monotonously. A brief pulse of light green energy surrounded the alchemist, before disappearing just as quickly as it had arrived. However, as Charme turned to face Kath, the dragonoid would notice that the homunculus' eyes were no longer blue, but rather a very intense green, and her pupils seemed slightly larger than before. Smiling, the woman spoke in a friendly manner. "There we go, preparations are all complete. You can go ahead and re-cast your spell now, kitten."

“Ah yes, I almost forgot all about that, I was so caught up in our conversation,” Kath admitted, before placing her tea down. Just as before, she summoned her book and read off the spell’s name while her fingers glided through the air to cast it upon herself. Charme would again witness False Life have its usual effect on her guest’s stats, now with her Eyes of Plagiarism ability in effect.

“How was that?” she asked with a smile.

"Perfect, thank you darling." Charme responded, a soft smile on her face. Almost immediately, a quill and parchment materialized out of empty space, most likely from the homunculus' own inventory, and she began to scribble something on it with practiced perfection. Within moments, she was all done and - as a special reward for her little assistant - Charme flipped the scroll around to show it to Kath.

"One [Scroll of False Life]." She was almost looking as if she'd won something. "... And with this, I can duplicate the scroll as many times as needed. You've been a wonderful help, kitten." Charme said, before dismissing both quill and scroll. "However, you never did answer me about my carriage-idea..." She trailed off.

With Charme’s look of victory, Kath couldn’t help but feel the need to clap, as if she had just watched a friend successfully pull something from a claw machine in an arcade. “Always happy to be of service,” she said with a nod.

At the mention of the carriage, Kath smiled and replied, “A carriage ride through the countryside together sounds lovely. I’m sure we’ll still find much to talk about to pass the time as we watch trees and animals roll on by.”

Charme laughed lightly at the almost romantic-sounding description that the librarian had given her idea of riding in a wagon. Still, it would be a far better idea than trying to approach the town with Kath's true form, or travelling by foot - given the relative distance. Charme was an indoor-person after all, and walking around outside, getting blistered feet and sweaty from an intense sun was something she'd prefer to avoid if at all possible. It seemed though, at least for now, that their business had come to a close.

"Very well, I'll see about arranging everything we need." The homunculus off-handedly said. "I'll contact the beast pens and see if I can get a horse from there. If not, I'll just whip something together for this one purpose. Now then, is there anything you need, dear? '' Charme asked, folding both arms underneath her chest and looking at Kath with a raised eyebrow.

“Hmm…” Kath said, placing an index finger on her chin as she tried her best to think back to the past few days. Was there anything she needed from Charme? She couldn’t recall anything. Though perhaps…

“Ah, yes. There is something,” the librarian said with a bright smile. “I must know, what do you use for your tea? This is the most splendid mixture of leaves and herbs I’ve had since the Chateau was brought here.”

Charme would stare at Kath. A look of absolute dumbfoundedness, or perhaps disbelief, plastered on her face. Then she laughed, holding one hand in front of her mouth in a vain attempt to cover it. It seemed the dragonoid had asked something that the alchemist hadn't quite expected. Once she composed herself though, Charme smiled and shook her head.

"It's just your average [Darjeeling Tea]." She replied. "Though I did some of my alchemic know-how to improve it." She replied, giving Kath a knowing smile with one eye closed. It seemed Charme's abilities could be used for more than just brewing tinctures and elixirs. "Now then, sweetie." She added shortly thereafter, gesturing for the now-active Guild elevator over by one of the walls. "I suggest you hurry on back to your library and get things ready. I'll meet you down at the foot of the mountain once I've gotten everything ready, alright?" She said, before quickly adding with an upward-pointing index finger. "Oh, and I'd like to have a look at that cipher for the native alphabet you made."

“I’ll have to come visit more often than, so I can enjoy it more,” Kath said with a smile and a curtsy as she left her seat to make her way to the elevator. “I’ll see you there.” Waving goodbye to Charme, the homunculus would get to see her ascend as the machinery began to awake. “Of course, come by anytime you like. _{I made several copies,}” the librarian’s voice could be heard as distance caused it to begin to fade.

---

The journey would progress fairly well, their carriage ride together being filled with conversation between the two women of learning. When their talk would occasionally grow into silence, Kath would simply go right back to reading the book she had brought with her for the journey until something caught one or the other’s attention and they struck up another conversation. Noticeably, it wasn’t her cipher that she was reading, though the fact that she was the one that had written it, she probably memorized its contents much better than anyone else who had checked out a copy from The Athenaeum of Historia.

Once they had made it past the city’s gates, the librarian’s attention would turn to the architecture around her. She was so used to the Chateau that seeing tall, multi-story buildings made of stone and such was almost strange for her, as it did not share the similar designs of the chapters back home.

(Collab with @Xaltwind)

Standing in the elevator, casually looking at her hand and spread out fingers, as if inspecting them for any signs of dirt, grime or otherwise - which of course there was none - Charme gently hummed to herself. Her meeting with the Chateau's Librarian was done and dealt with, and the only thing that truly remained to do were a bit of practical field-testing of some of her equipment. While normally she would've just conjured or made a simple dummy target to test her bombs, acids or other offensive capabilities of, the short of it was that the alchemist simply didn't have the resources currently to waste. On anything.

Even mundane materials like wood and stone wereen't stored in excess, and as such the silver-haired homunculus had to be frugal and thoughtful of what she made and how much she used to make it. Hopefully, this little excursion that Rodias had planned for her and Kath would yield some valuable, or at least useful, information regarding native alchemical ingredients and harvestable reagents. While Zouyu's garden could provide some materials, she still would prefer to have a more varied selection of goods.

As these thoughts passed through her mind, the elevator suddenly stopped with a whirr, and the doors slid open. The woman stretched her arm slightly, before walking out of the transport-box, looking around with a modest interest at her surroundings.

Why had she come to the City of the Lost, first Chapter of the Chateau and the domain of Salem? Simple. Since she couldn't afford to make practice dummies or targets herself, she had inquired one of the bone butlers after she left her Well, asking if there was anyone who could suitably fulfill her need. The response she had gotten was that 'Young Master Salem had offered and invited all members of the Chateau to his domain, should they need to familiarize themselves with the outside world.' or some such. In truth, Charme hadn't paid full attention to the skellington, they were a dull bunch and their overexaggerated mannerisms and code of conduct made them slow and the sort to take their time getting to the point... Charme didn't particularly care for those that beat around the bush.

Still, as she walked, the heels of her ... Well, heels, clicked softly as she leisurely looked around and examined the area. This was probably the first time in years that she had been outside the Wishing Well and actually gone to another denizen's domain. Though judging from her unplussed face and slightly bored expression, it didn't seem that she was all too impressed with what she saw. Curiously though, she hadn't seen any of the supposed residents of this floor, none of Salem's minions or subjects had come out to greet or, given Salem's persona, ambush her... It was a bit odd, to say the least.

Still, she could appreciate the calm and silence. It would've been annoying if things were too lively and noisy, she didn't much care for such places either. Though as it were, the only real landmark of any kind in this cross-breed of Nightmare before Christmas and Alice in Wonderland, was the little settlement-like set-up a ways away. It looked like a poorly thrown together childrens' rendition of what a town might look like, but given the nature of the Chapter and its over-arching theme, that made a lot of sense.

With no other place of interest to go really, Charme proceeded towards the 'hamlet' of Salem's design. Notably though, she had brought her Case of Endless Flasks along with her, which hung with its strap slung over one of her delicate shoulders and resting at the side of her hip as she walked, gently swaying ever so slightly with each step. Whatever tests she was planning to conduct, no doubt her precious case was going to be involved. Amusingly, she had neither announced her presence, nor made any effort to contact Salem upon arrival, either because she didn't wish to be noticed and bothered, or because she figured Salem would've undoubtedly noticed her presence regardless.

The City of Lost Things was at its core a mathematical simulation, and one thing that it simulated was population dynamics, with the main 'population input' being crafted in The Factory and dumped into the City of Lost Things. With the mimics taking 90% of all material input into the Chateau, The Factory's throughput would understandably be impacted, and by extension, the population of The City of Lost Things would be negatively affected as well. To make matters worse, Salem had rounded up a fair number of the remaining population and set them to the task of replicating the lives of the people of Amberden within the replica of the town that Salem had created, meaning that the rest of the City of Lost Things was very sparsely populated, and this would be something that would be noticeable to Charme if she had any memory of visiting the City in the past. It did mean that the City was very poorly defended, but gone were the days where the Chapter Keepers and their subjects had to fend off guilds of enemies seeking to plunder the Chateau's riches, and life for a boss monster had become truly dull.

In the Amberden replica, Charme would find the denizens milling about, wearing crudely-made name tags. many of them simply went from building to building aimlessly, following a vaguely defined schedule. After all, unlike Salem, who actually had eyes on the village, the denizens of The City could only mime whatever Salem had told them to do without any knowledge or vision of the people they were supposed to be pretending to be. They left Charme alone for the most part, but one teddy bear holding an oversized sword and wearing a nameplate that read, 'Mars', approached and greeted Charme. "W-welcome to Amberden. I'm...Mars. Um...I train the...soldiers? Y-you l-look suspicious...! What brings you to our village?" It was obvious that the bear was simply playing some half-assed role.

Charme looked down at the laughably non-threatenign teddy bear, an eyebrow raised. Was this part of Salem's grand design? Or was the puppet so bored that he had orchestrated an elaborate play for no particular reason other than to amuse himself? Whatever the case, Charme felt that, as a guest, it would be rude to just outright ignore the effort put in, even if she had no inherent interest in it. Thus, crouching down, coming as close to eye-level with the sword-wielding defender of the village, she looked at the cuddly thing with a smile.

"Suspiscious? But I'm just a harmless travelling merchant, valiant sir." The homunculus replied, and though she smiled friendly, her eyes did not... Of course, a thing with stuffing and fluff for brains probably couldn't tell facial expressions or read too deep into them anyways.

"Is the Lord of the village present, perhaps? I'd like a word." She said in continued pretending.

"So Charme was here on official business," the teddy bear realized, its shoulders loosening. Giving up the act, it directed her, "Lord Salem's residence sits just outside this village, though they probably already know you're here." The bear's eyes flitted to a doll head mounted on a nearby fence spike.

As if on cue, the hovering Chapter Keeper rounded a corner and came into view. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Breaking character are we, Mars?" Salem questioned threateningly. The teddy bear flustered; on the one hand, it wanted to apologize and beg for forgiveness, on the other hand, it worried that doing so would be considered a continuation of breaking character. With no recourse, it simply ran in the opposite direction.

"I'd kill it for its mistake, but as you can probably see, resources are a little tight. Graft's production has slowed, though I doubt he is to blame. What brings a woman of elegance such as yourself to a dump like this?" Salem turned their attention to Charme, smiling. Charme had been a favorite among the Supreme Beings, her abode a frequent gathering spot for their celebrations, and for that Salem harbored a slight envy.

Charme watched the little teddy bear flee in panic, as its Lord reared their head and began to berate it for... Whatever reason, honestly, Salem didn't really need a reason to harass its minions. It was rather well-known, even to a recluse like her, that the Lord of Lost Things enjoyed tormenting its subordinates on the regular.

Rising from her crouched position, certain chest-relevant assets doing a bit of jiggle-bouncing as she straightened up, Charme looked at Salem with a pleasant and friendly expression. A practiced pleasant and friendly expression.

"You don't say?" She replied upon hearing about Graft and the situation regarding resources - something she was already aware of, given that her own stockpiles were laughably low as well. "Perhaps the dear Baron is bunkering up for the winter?" She suggested. "Or perhaps he's just a miser unwilling to share..." Her eyes, at this point, had a certain edge and sharpness to them - though it faded quickly. "But to answer your question, sweetie." Charme said, now smiling to Salem once more, and putting one of her hands into the case hanging alongside her waist. "I thought I'd stop by and let you play with some new toys I made~" She said winking at the doll playfully.

Pulling her hand out, she now held a small, tube-shaped vial in between her fingers. Inside was a strange liquid that seemed to be releasing an ominous orange gas, while the liquid itself resembled something like molten metal, yellow and intense. The entire flask gave off a voaltile orange-yellow glow. She then proceeded to hold the little glass container out towards the floating Chapter Keeper, gently rocking it back and forth in the air, as if implicating that it was alright for Salem to take it.

"I thought you might be a bit bored of your usual games, so I brought some things to ... Spice things up." Although she still smiled, her eyes were dangerously cold at this point. "After all, me and the little librarian are heading out soon, and I'd like to see if my mixtures could cone in handy, no matter the situation." She half-explained. "So.......... Would you like to help your big sis out, hm~?" Charme asked, tilting her head and continuing to gently dangle the vial of - what was most undeniably explosive - liquid.

Salem ignored Charme's attempt to stir up suspicion between the doll and Director Graft. Though Graft had threatened to cut off the flow of material and seize Salem's assets, the agreement between The Factory and The City had been forged not by Graft and Salem, but by their creators, Brushen Penn and Dr.Drd, and if Graft was willing to keep Tabula around despite the threat she posed to his position, then Salem was confident that Graft would not do anything to breach a covenant between Sable Lords. As Charme presented the bottle, Salem looked at it skeptically for a moment as the doll often did whenever they were being handed anything. Salem was incapable of wielding an indestructible object as doing so would put the doll into a near-death state and rob them of their ability to wield items for a period of time. Of course, very few knew of this particular weakness and it was unlikely Charme came all this way just to play a practical joke. Charme would feel an invisible tug on the vial as Salem's telepathy took possession of it. Inspecting the vial, Salem assumed it was a consumable, something to be used once and forgotten. While it fit the theme of The City of Lost Things, what was Salem to do after the item's initial use? And while the City of Lost Things was intended for testing, what it tested were things that were more permanent, specifically attributes that could be forged into weapons or items. Even if Salem gifted the vial to a denizen of The City, the creature would likely use it within the next ten minutes and destroy a chunk of the Amberden replica.

"What is this? Is it a grenade? I'm sure I'll get a kick from throwing it and causing a bit of destruction, but that's only a short instance of fun. Unless of course, you plan to create more and provide them to The City of Lost Things. But if you want to test it, then shouldn't you be around to document the effects? Or perhaps this is only one of many toys you plan to introduce me to? Though you are right that I am getting somewhat bored of my games, unfortunately, Lord Rodias has given me a task that requires me to leave the Chateau for a while. So unless you want me to test these toys outside, then you're probably better off discussing this with Graft," Salem said. It wasn't that Salem didn't want to help her, but the circumstances made it difficult, and Salem doubted The City was the ideal place to test consumables. The decrease in resources was also an issue, if any weapons Charme introduced to The City were too powerful, the steady-state population of the City would dramatically decrease, potentially to the point of unsustainability. Were the population of The City more robust, Salem wouldn't mind letting The City ramp up into a vicious arms race.

Charme smiled as Salem took the vial from her through the use of his telekinetic abilities. As he questioned what it was, the woman covered her mouth elegantly to hide a small laugh.

"Sweetie, I wouldn't come here just to give you a single piece of candy. I brought a varied selection of treats." She said in amusement, though it was hard to tell if it was an act or genuine. She continued quickly. "Don't worry, these tests won't take up much of your time, and yes, that most certainly is something you throw at others." Charme replied to Salem's earliest question, though she did ignore the part about speaking with Graft. "Why not give it a try? See what kind of fireworks it lets loose?" She smiled.

What Salem was now holding, or levitating, was a [Vial of Blasting], a mid-tier alchemic concoction that, once thrown and coming into contact with anything that could shatter the glass container, would explode violently. It was by no means the most powerful bomb one could make, but it was very cost-efficient to make.

At Charme's insistence, Salem shrugged before telekinetically chucking the vial what Salem considered a safe distance away from the Amberden replica. Salem kept an eye on Charme's reaction; obviously if she flinched or ran in the opposite direction, Salem would grab the vial midair to prevent it from detonating, but if she remained still, then he had likely tossed the vial a sufficient distance.

The ensuing explosion was spectacular, very much like a real world grenade. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, due to the already lowered population of The City, the place Salem threw the vial was unoccupied, so its effective lethality was not tested. Salem mocked 'rolling on the floor' in midair, laughing and giggling. "What good fun! Not much collateral, but that's perfect for the cramped alleys of The City. I'm curious to know what other goodies you brought for me?"

For Charme's part, she didn't seem either particularly pleased or disappointed by the blast, merely looking at the explosions with arms folded under her chest and a hard-to-read expression. She looked over at Salem once he started his laughing-fit though, and smiled.

"Glad to hear it, precious." She said, before reaching a hand into her case once more.

This time she withdrew what looked like a light bulb-shaped flask out, containing a very bright blue liquid which seemed to be accompanied by white, swirling vapor inside the bottle. The thing also had a certain pale blue shine to it, and though Salem likely wouldn't feel it, the bottle was cold to touch and had traces of condensation along its outside. Holding it up in front of herself for a bit of inspection, the alchemist then turned to Salem and balanced the bottle in the palm of her hand.

"This one's next, I think." She said with a casually lyrical tone. "It's called an [Icicle Prison Cocktail], and as the name would imply-" She held up for her other hand, pointing upwards with her index-finger as if to make a point clear. "-it breaks on impact and unleashes a small barrage of sprouting icicles that'll pierce and impale anything caught in the area of effect." The woman explained, very clearly. "This one has a slightly smaller radius of effect than the last one, but the lingering effects can be amusing, if you're so inclined." Charme added, a small and mischievous grin on her lips.

To be exact, the potion had a blast radius of around 10 feet, and would trap any creature or object caught in its area of effect by causing sharp, frozen spears of ice to burst from the freed liquid and shoot up in random directions. Not only did the icicles pierce and damage the target, but they also froze and kept any victim held in place until the ice became so brittle as to break. Even after the ice was completely gone, it left a sleek puddle that could cause the victim to trip or fall down, though this was more a comedic side-effect rather than an actual quality of the potion itself.

With Charme being a little more explanatory about this bottle's effects, Salem felt more inclined to try it out on one of The City's subjects. Grabbing a fake denizen of Amberden and slamming it into the ground, Salem threw the Icicle Prison Cocktail at the hapless mook, watching with glee as conical shards of ice erupted upon impact. Salem laughed as their subject struggled futilely, hurt, but still alive, and certainly trapped until the ice thawed. Given the creature's low level, it would be a long time before the ice would become weak enough to release it.

"Next one! Next one-" Salem cheered before stopping abruptly, "I won't have to pay for any of these will I? The City has never had much to offer, so the only payment I can give is favors and promises, and I'm sure you can see how unfair that is. The last time I tried to get someone to pay me in such a manner, it was quite unthinkable to the other party, yet such was expected of me. We've only just been freed from our masters, so you can imagine that I'm not eager to return to a life of indentured servitude."

Charme merely watched the spectacle of Salem using one of his own domain's inhabitants as a guinea pig, and seemed rather unphased once again. Neither nodding approvingly or scowling in disappointment, the woman merely watched the effects of the icy bomb, noting down the effects in her mind. When Salem asked her about payment though, the homunculus turned her head to the doll, an eyebrow raised an a quizzical look on her face.

"Pay? Precious, i told you I came here to test thes, didn't I?" She asked, slightly cocking her head to one side. "If I wanted payment, I would've offered to sell them to you. I'm not like our good friend from The Factory." She smiled again, though it wasn't a good smile. "I'm not interested in pointless things like profits, cost efficacy and other such nonsense. You're helping me test my work and I get to let you try some new toys, I think that's more than fair, don't you?" Her smile had turned to a more pleasant one at this point.

Moving on, Charme pulled another flask from her case. However, this one looked outright dangerous. It was a slender-necked flask, filled with a liquid that glowed with a neon green, self-luminescent liquid inside. To make matters worse, it was making a strange hissing noise, as if steam or vapor was leaking out from somewhere - though the container was completely unbroken and safe to handle.

"This one's my personal favorite." Charme mentioned, holding the eerie concoction up and in front of her own eyes, marveling at it with almost sadistically gleeful eyes. "It's called [Gluttonous Acid]." She said, lowering the flask and holding out towards Salem, carefully. "It's quite remarkable really... It's an acid that can chew through most anything, metal, mineral, organic... Even granular things like sand." The woman explained, retrieving something out of her own personal inventory.

Much to Salem's possible confusion, what Charme had pulled out was a simple stone. In fact, it was one of the stones that Rodias had brought to her as payment earlier, with his cart. Gingerly tossing the rock a ways away from the two NPCs, she watched it tumble a bit further, before stopping. The stone was about as big as a volleyball, give or take. Satisfied, she looked back to Salem.

"Why don't you try hitting the stone there? I suppose you could test it on one of your friends here, but I don't think you'd get a proper idea of just how ... Potent ... This stuff is if you did." Charme suggested.

To put it mildly, [Gluttonous Acid] was pretty much like an acid-form of lit thermite, on steroids. It would eat through anything and everything viciously. It's main weakness was that it only lasted for a short time, before dissolving itself. Still, it was a voracious and volatile weapon that could melt things to goop with ease.

"Quid pro quo; I like it, no numbers, no math. I help you, you help me. Not as business partners, but as...friends..." Salem chuckled, doubting Charme's sincerity.

Salem gave the new vial a look of revulsion. Anything with the ability to destroy item durability was a particular weakness of Salem's, so though Salem held the vial of Gluttonous Acid, they held it at a fairly long distance. But before throwing it, Salem asked, "If you already know what everything does, why are you testing it?" But before Charme replied, Salem simply shrugged and threw the vial at the stone indicated and watched the effects, though with significantly less glee this time. Graft already possessed an item-destroying tool, and the thought of another member of the Chateau having a similar capability was unsettling to Salem. The tense atmosphere that pervaded the Chateau as of late did not instill confidence in Salem that the others would not turn on the doll if the chips were down.

"Simple, precious." Charme replied to Salem's question. "I know exactly what they do and how they act, in YGGDRASIL." She watched Salem toss the flask and beheld the spectacle of the stone being quickly chewed through, as if it was made of pudding. The effects didn't last very long though, and while a large portion of the stone had been melted through, much of it still remained. Charme looked a bit disappointed at this as she placed on hand on her hip. "But this is a new world, and we can't expect things to work the same as they once did. " Charme continued.

She turned away from the half-melted rock and focused her attention again on Salem. Her blue eyes seemed distant and cold, despite the fact that she was smiling in a friendly manner. She wasn't reaching into her case for anything new either.

"I told you when I arrived, didn't i?" She asked. "I'll be leaving the Chateau soon on the request of our Rodias. Testing the effects of my potions when I'm already out and about could prove disastrous if something's changed." She explained. "For example, the [Gluttonous Acid] back home had a much longer period of working before dissolving and the [Vial of Blasting] had a wider area of effect. Only the [Icicle Prison Cocktail worked just as it should." Charme finally revealed.

She now withdrew her slender white pipe from somewhere, and lit it. Putting it to her lips, she took a quick drag before letting out a small cloud of light-grey smoke, aimed carefully away from Salem so as to not have him get caught in the exhale. Such a thing would be rather rude, especially since he'd just helped her and the fact that this was his home.

"Now then, I only have one more thing for you, sweetie." She said. This time though, she didn't fish into her bag to grab a potion, but instead conjured something from her own inventory. It was a strange, orange-colored flask that looked to be made out of plastic. It had a red cap on top of the neck and there was a pair of exaggerated, cartoonish words written in white on one side that read 'Wood Glue'. Holding it out for Salem to take, Charme's eyes grew more gentle and and seemed to now match her mouth much better.

"This is something for you." She said plainly. "I know you like keeping your durability high, so I made something that could help with that. It's just a [Basic Adhesive], but it should be able to repair any of your own, or your friends, if they get scratched up, by a little bit." The alchemist concluded.

With that said, Charme quietly continued to smoke casually, while waiting for Salem's response, casting a lazy glance over the City of Lost Things, and the poor mook who was still caught in the ice prison, struggling futilely.

Salem hadn't considered how the laws of the universe would change in a different world, even though Kaldorna had announced how running low on mana affected them differently here. Salem had been too preoccupied wrestling with the emotional ramifications of losing their creators. "Ah, I...I see," Salem said, feeling somewhat bashful at having made such an oversight, wondering if they should see if anything about their own 'kit' had changed. Perhaps Salem should leave The City alone to run itself for a time instead of bullying its denizens and see what attributes or combinations of attributes crawled its way to the top of the food chain as Dr.Drd was wont to do after every 'patch'. But rather than thinking of such foresighted solutions, Charme had beat Salem to it.

But as Charme produced the wood glue, Salem received it happily, actually taking it with their hands instead of just taking it through telekinesis. "Wow! With the supply of mannequin parts from The Factory slowed down for the time being, this is most useful! Thank you! I hope The City has served you well, you're free to visit anytime. Oh, but before you leave, I'm curious, how are you taking the sudden absence of our creators?"

Gently tapping her pipe, then putting it back into... Somewhere... Charme readjusted the strap of her case over her shoulder and turned around. Though at Salem's question, she turned her head to look over her own shoulder, back at the floating little doll. A slight smile and with half-closed eyes, showing incredible disinterest in the inquiry, Charme replied dryly.

"Our fickle stags and does? Come now, Rodias is still here. Isn't that enough, precious?" Charme replied, before walking off, a slight sway to her hips and humming a quiet tune as she headed for the City's elevator. She had business elsewhere and no time to spare for further pleasantries. Though she did raise one hand and giving Salem a brief wave goodbye.

"Thanks for the help, sweetie." She half-called back to him, without turning her head.

"Enough?" Salem thought, "More like, 'one too many', though that remained to be determined." It was understandable though. Not only did Salem look like a child, when Dr.Drd was around, Salem would follow him much like a child would, so it stood to reason that Charme might be trying to assuage Salem's perceived fear of abandonment, and might not have guessed that Salem's current struggle had more to do with what to do with their newfound freedom, and whether Rodias was even necessary or not. Whatever the case, Salem felt that Charme was also fairly irreverent when it came to the Sable Lords, referring to them as 'fickle stags and does'. "Perhaps 'enough' is the right word," Salem said aloud, "You're welcome ,and I wish you the best of luck out there." With that, Salem let Charme leave, allowing the doll to finally prepare for their own departure.

During the meeting, Rodias had somewhat assuaged Salem's concerns about replacing an existing individual versus coming up with an entirely new personality. Though Rodias' solution involved an actual illegitimate heir, the problem remained, did the existence of the heir necessitate Salem replacing the heir and match the heir's mannerisms, or pretend to be an entirely new person claiming to be the heir, while hoping the real heir doesn't show up? Regardless, these were details Salem could hammer out with Rodias at a later point. The more pressing matter following the meeting was receiving Tabula and Papillary in the City of Lost Things, which was quickly followed up by Charme's surprise visit.

But between checking the progress of recon rat infiltration as well as some other minor distractions, Salem had wasted a considerable amount of time, and hadn't even gotten around to discussing some final details with Rodias, before Salem checked in with one of the rats in Amberden again, only to witness a terrible event. The artificial rat cowered in the corner helplessly as it watched Chuunitrixx, a being more powerful than Salem be so overwhelmingly intimidated. Even after Chuunitrixx seemingly mimic-ported back to safety, Salem was shaken, and the rat was unable to keep pace with the golden-eyed monstrosity as it darted into the forests of the mountain. Moments passed though Salem knew they had to warn the Chateau. However soon enough, the warning came: through Butterfly, through Rodias, through Graft. Despite being responsible for recon, Salem had failed at this critical moment. The remaining doll heads posted outside of the Chateau zeroed their eyes in on Butterfly's interaction with the invader.

Replying to Graft on the Collect Call, Salem said, "H-...Heading over to Climax Hour. And while I couldn't give a damn if The City of Lost Things is destroyed in the process, I'm surprised you're willing to leave The Factory undefended." As far as being in a state of hopeless disrepair, The City was already at rock bottom, but with The Factory as the Second Chapter, and of much more vital importance to the Chateau, it seemed a strategic mistake to abandon it and wait for the intruder to breach all the way to Climax Hour. Though Salem's words might be snarky, there was actual genuine concern in the doll's voice for Graft's beloved home. Sure, The Factory wouldn't be completely undefended, but against such power, it might as well be empty. Whatever the response, Salem glided quickly down to the Climax Hour, bringing a veritable floating junkyard of weapons and mannequin parts following in the doll's wake. If there was going to be a fight, Salem needed spare parts. Arriving at the meeting spot, Salem assembled itself into a nightmare-inducing, scorpion-like aggregate monstrosity of loose body parts, bristling with sharp objects. Though Violet was the 'tank', Salem was the 'boss creature'; Violet was meant to fight in a team, Salem was meant to fight alone and buy time...to be expendable. Salem didn't have any support abilities, and Salem's abilities synergized with itself, not with the other members of Bandersnatch. In this Salem was wrong, though they didn't know it.

Chuunitrixx was still attempting to coax favour of the Priestess, amid thwacks from her pocket Bible, and unimpressed, but non-hurtful looks... when the alarm sounded. Chateau Gothika switched to "Crisis Mode," and her semi-playful mood evaporated with the klaxon. Awoken, Sentries and Proxies by the dozen began to converse, and Survivors, both the Alpha and the Standard, switched to "Scout Mode" -- however, the Alpha needn't hunt long. Their uninvited guest was currently waylaid at the gates by Rodias and Bone Daddy; distracted by them, and in the open.

It was a classic.

Chuunitrixx pushed up, feet firm to the floor, and focused. Teleporting, her feet hit the concrete roads of Apocalypse Now, and she gripped her head. She hadn't meant to come here! Not with Rodias in potential danger! And yet... yet... she had retreated, instinctively, away from the acknowledged threat, and stood in relative safety. Relative. That's all it was. Relative. Easily shattered by a single step. And yet... she cowered in it, while he was out there; risking his life in her stead.

That wouldn't do. Rodias was not supposed to defend Chateau Gothika. That was the job of Chapter Keepers and Facility Managers. And, she was the last defender before Rodias was to be required.

Her fists clenched at her sides in anger at herself, her cowardice, and her instincts overriding her missions.

Not here.

Not now.

Not at her own home.

Suddenly, her toes met the warmth of the clay-shingle roof; thick tiles curved, and soaking up the sun. According to her scouts, Rodias and Bone Daddy had the Golden Eyes distracted; in YGGDRASIL Online, her Block or Guard would be completely down, and she would take Quadruple Damage from a Sneak Attack. It was a strategy that Rodias and Traptrixx employed -- better known as Flanking. As long as the Flanking Bonus was up, Chuunitrixx knew she could carry the day as she had dozens and dozens of times before. There was no doubt in the forefront of her mind, now.

Hitting her belly, Chuunitrixx retrieved Silver Knight Anor, and looked up a Boss Killer Bullet in her Grimoire, "This combination should do it: [Lethality III], [Critical III], [Puncture III], [Damage III], [Armor Breaker], [Maximize Double Speed], [Double Maximize Heighten Kinetic Energy], [Triple Maximize Holy Smite]," a pained hiss escaped the Mimic, as she pushed forward a little more magic, adding a low-level stun with a high success chance, "[Triple Maximize Heighten Gigaton Stun], Formulate, and Create Ammo: [Heavenly Railgun]!"

Burning off a lot of magic, Chuunitrixx created a powerful bullet, and loaded it. Unaware of the order to stand down, she pulled back on her bolt action, focus on her target, and passed her [Stress Test] thanks to Aurora removing her [Terrified] Curse. A moment passed, as she centered her target; a silver mass flew by her scope, and well-trained eyes followed it. It was Mamoru -- no, it was a clone of her, as the coloration was off by a single shade across the board. It must have been thrown. Chuunitrixx didn't regard Mamoru as a Friend, but she was an Ally -- everyone in Gothika was her Ally, regardless of their Friendship Status -- and it was her job to defend her Allies.

Fear or no fear.

"I'll show you, who's afraid to shoot..." she says, pulling the trigger.

In the blink of an eye, the bullet was lodged in the head of the golden-eyed intruder -- knocking her back, prone, and stunning her, and there was nothing that Rodias could have done to prevent it. His direct order was never delivered to Chuunitrixx by Graft, and her mission to protect Chateau Gothika and its residents was not to be denied without it. It would take a lot of time and magic to reform another bullet like that, but that was a one and done attack. Chuunitrixx had made sure of it, to the point that she didn't even bother with the idea of confirming her kill, once the body hit the ground; she was that confident in her skills, honed over ten year of monotonous service.

Many a boss had been stunned by that bullet, and shredded apart by the Guild Bandersnatch.

"I'm not afraid," Chuunitrixx says, as she rose to a crouch.

Turning, the sniper started to retreat to teleport downstairs...

Mamoru received word from Butterfly that an unknown high speed entity was making their way to the Chateau. At the time, Mamoru was trying her hand at making some snacks to munch on, but she immediately put this task aside as she went into serious mode. Her first priority was to ensure Rodias was okay, and to figure out what he had planned. She was certain that he already knew and was preparing accordingly.

In a flash of speed Mamoru was by Rodias’ side. “Lord Rodias, I have received your message for the Chateau. I’m afraid that I am merely a shadow of my original self, but to that end do not hesitate to use me, even if it would end my life.” Under better circumstances Mamoru would flirt endlessly on Rodias even if her original self wouldn't, knowing that her life was short either way, but now was not the time for those shenanigans. Not to mention that based off the orders she received, Rodias intended to confront this threat alone, while everyone else rallied at the Climax Hour. Ever a foolish decision; how can he, their leader, expect his followers to cower at the heart of the Chateau while he battles this threat alone? It may disobey a direct order, but Mamoru has no intentions of leaving Rodias’ side.

Rodias was frozen, staring in abject fear at the figure that, by all stretches of the imagination, was nothing more than a little girl, visually. But judging from how badly she’d already damaged the ESPER that she’d shot, and her almost instantaneous victory over Isolde listed in the report, Rodias knew that there wasn’t a single good thing that could come of this...and now Bone Daddy was facing her alone. Even if it wasn’t in a fight, that was beyond dangerous. The last Sable Lord would ball his fists, and start making his way forward, not going too fast as he didn’t want to cause the girl to retaliate and, potentially, end his life before she’s even aware that he’s there.

Mamoru followed Rodias quietly, having already commanded the skeletal butlers to ready themselves for battle. She knows that Bone Daddy had given them orders otherwise, but she was superseding his orders in order to make sure everyone is ready to fight with whatever it takes. Mamoru wasn’t about to lose her home to this unknown strumpet.

---

Caught quite off guard by the offerings of snacks, refreshments, and general politeness, the girl’s eyes would light up as she sipped the vanilla cola, excitedly waving the glass around. ”More of this please!” she would say, before starting to munch on the macarons, cookies, and madelines eagerly, cheeks stuffed much like a squirrel’s would be from how much she was eating in rapidity. If it weren’t for the fact that she could kill everyone, it might actually be a bit cute.

Next came the meat, which she would choose to be a mixture of pancetta and pastrami, paired with a thick slice of gouda atop it. She looked enraptured by the food, happily clutching her cheek as a serpentine tail swished to and fro behind her, slamming against her chair lightly again and again. ”Sho good…” she murmured, eagerly looking over the spicy foods, eyes watering from the imminent spice that was going to likely scald her mouth...but everything had been so good so far, she had no choice but to partake.

Partaking in the buffalo wings first, the girl would turn the barest base of the saucy wing to stone to not get her fingers dirty, before biting the meat and skin off the bone, face lighting up pink as she fanned herself. ”H-H-H-Hot! Way too hot!” she said, chugging her vanilla cola and exhaling. ”But...so delicious…” she said, tears in her eyes from her complete lack of ability to process anything even remotely spicy. With the buffalo wings having defeated her, she would instead start eating parts of the blooming onion, hissing happily as she swallowed her first bite. ”I love it!” she said, mixing in bites of curly fries between, completely avoiding the Jalapeno poppers out of raw FEAR for their spicy nature. That, and she liked her ass to not be on fire.

Wiping her mouth contently with a napkin, the medusa was satisfied, clapping slowly. ”Five stars, and then some. So, what’s your plan? Butter me up with food until I go away?” the girl would ask, crossing her legs in her seat and watching Birthday Butterfly curiously.

Ever emotionless, Butterfly simply served the girl quietly, refilling her drink as desired and cleaning up any messes or spills she might’ve made. He also covered the Jalapeno poppers since she showed no interest in eating those. When she seemed to have eaten her fill she questioned his motives. He saw no reason to lie to her. “I am Butterfly, Bone Daddy and Head Butler of the Chateau’s Bone Butler Battalion. My kin had noticed your imminent arrival and so it is my duty to greet you as a guest and offer you all the comforts I can provide as a guest of the Chateau.” He bowed his head towards her once again.

“If I may be so bold to ask, honored guest, might I have your name and what business you have here at the Chateau? Additionally, do you desire any more refreshments?”

”Hm...well, I guess you’d find out anyways in a few minutes. I’m here to talk to your master. Whoever that is. Mind pointing me to where they are?” the girl asked, oblivious to Rodias approaching a fair distance away, coming out from the Beast Pens.

“I’m afraid that I do not know where he is at, however I am certain that one of my kin has already informed him of your arrival, so I’ve no doubt he is making preparations to greet you. You have come so suddenly I am certain he was not expecting your arrival, much like how we could only offer you these meager assortments of drinks and foodstuff.” Butterfly says cooly. He also picked up communications from Mamoru about preparing the skeleton butlers to battle. He wanted to avoid it in the event that the gorgon notices the unusual activity, but he could not do anything about it right now. Instead Butterfly needed to improvise.

“As we wait for my Lord to arrive, would you care for some entertainment? I and my kin are capable of more than simply food service. We are skilled in various performing arts including acting, singing, acrobatics, pyrogenics, and impersonation.” All of these things the previous Sable Lords had taught Bone Daddy and his skeleton legion for their entertainment. Usually the skeletons simply served as extras or stage hands for these performances, but since the usual actors (the players themselves) were not present, Bone Daddy could easily prepare his kin to play their parts instead.

”No thanks. I’ll just wait, if he’s on his way,” the medusa would state, not dropping her guard at all. She seemed completely focused on Bone Daddy and his actions, clearly not willing to be lied to, or be misled. Judging by the impatient tapping of her left index finger on the table, she wasn’t going to wait long…

“So be it then.” Butterfly knew he needed to stall for a bit longer. Something, anything, and then he had an idea. While typically ill-advisable to take an unknown threat inside of the Chateau, there was one place he could take her that will be safer than the courtyard here. “Then shall I show you to one of our guest areas? It is closer to my lord’s throne room, and I am certain that if he has not already left, he would be waiting there. There will also be better furniture than simply the outdoor chair if you wish for a more relaxing environment and further accommodations.”

”Oh? Well, that sounds lovely...but I’m not moving from this chair,” the golden-eyed girl would state, running a finger through one of her bangs. ”I’m not asking for an audience. I’m asking for him to come talk to me,” she said, glaring ever so slightly at Bone Daddy. It was growing more and more apparent that this girl was not only stubborn, but difficult to convince of anything.

“Of course. If you so desire, I can simply call for some servants who may carry you whilst seated to wherever he may be.” The girl was being stubborn and quickly impatient. Such was the nature of such powerful beings. But silence would be death and destruction: Butterfly could not simply assume Rodias would actually arrive here, and the longer Bone Daddy can stall the longer his own people could prepare themselves. Most were already geared up as quickly as they could and were now simply trying to get to their battle stations. Not to mention, though Butterfly could not feel anger, he knew this girl was disrespecting Rodias by demanding he come to her for an audience rather than her requesting one. But she was not simply a peasant Butterfly could dispose of, at least not in any clean manner. A very delicate situation indeed.

“It would seem that he is indeed arriving soon, honored guest. If you’ll excuse me, I shall prepare this spot for a more pleasant sojourn.” With a simple bow of the head, a few more skeletal servants appeared from the doorway with more tables and furniture. They took away the previous table and food and replaced it with a low coffee table and a large couch meant for Rodias, though another couch was also brought in case the girl wanted a more comfortable seat as well. Butterfly simply stood there at attention, keeping an ever watchful eye on the girl.

”I’m not going anywhere,” the girl said, watching as the couch was brought in, immediately going elsewhere by plopping herself onto the couch and waiting idly before a flurry of shadow and a billowing of wind preceded Rodias’ entrance, the Sable Lord sitting opposite of the girl, bowing his head. ”My apologies for making you wait. I am-”

In an instant, the girl was tilting her head, interrupting Rodias with: ”Wow...you’re really green. And a vampire. Half-Vampire?” she said, suddenly reaching forward and tugging at Rodias’ cheek, revealing the pointed fangs in place of the Sable Lord’s canines. ”Half-Vampire,” she said, smiling at her own assertion before releasing Rodias’ cheek.

Rodias was stunned. What...even just happened? He felt more than a little violated by the girl’s rudeness, but it seemed that she didn’t mean harm...for now. ”Erm...yes...I’m a Dhampir. Do you mind if I ask what brings you here, Miss…?”

”You can call me Morgan. My username was WitCHazel. Stupid, I know. Anyways, nice to meet you. You’re a Player, right?” the girl asked, her tone friendly, even as her golden eyes shifted pitch to being purple, staring in anticipation of Rodias’ answer.

”Yeah. I was. My name is Rodias,” he said, answer seeming to satisfy Morgan as she reclined back in her seat. ”I’ll keep this simple...ditch this place and come with me. I’m with a guild.”

Rodias just kind of stared in disbelief. Partially at the idea of just up and leaving Bandersnatch’s home, and partially at the ludicrous idea that not just one other person got transported here, but an entire guild did as well. It was all way too much to take in, but Rodias had absolutely no time as the girl hurriedly took his hand and smiled. ”Besides, not like its your job to waste away in one place, talking to bones, robots, and a bunch of things other people made. RPGs were made to do whatever you want, when you want it. That’s what Ardion says, at least. You look like a box of razor blades dumped onto a mound of duct tape edgy, so I bet you wanna do all kinds of evil things. Don’t deny it; I had urges too coming here. But Ardion helped me fulfill them all!” Morgan said, each word bringing her inch by inch closer to Rodias, her eyes that were once shining with a gleam of curiosity instead turning to one of hollow fascination.

Whoever this...Ardion was, he had her, heart and soul. By either charisma or enchantment.

“And what would he possibly gain from being a proud lord to a lowly servant?” Mamoru asks standing behind the woman. She had disengaged previously and positioned herself here purposely. Butterfly was also suspiciously and suddenly absent. “Lord Rodias is no mere sellsword, nor a charlatan. He is the proud Sable Lord of the Bandersnatch, with all of the Gothika Chateau at his beck and call. He has not and will never abandon us, nor shall we forsake him.” Mamoru said all of these things unprompted, vaguely aware that Rodias was the only one this woman cared to listen to. But regardless of her status as a mere doppelgänger, she was still Mamoru in both mind and soul, and her desire for defiance against this obvious tyranny bleeds through.

She was also prepared for this woman to retaliate, either physically or magically, and was readying herself to do battle to defend the chateau with her life.

There was a brief pause, before a lock of the girl’s hair lashed out behind her, a silver-scaled snake having lunged and bitten into the Mamoru clone’s neck, fangs ripping, gouging, slowly tearing at her throat to keep her from speaking further. A smile crept upon Morgan’s lips as she said: ”Nobody’s a servant when you join Ardion. He helps everyone. Even me. He’ll even help you,” she said, as the snake continued its gouging, purposefully avoiding killing the clone outright.

Rodias was physically shaking. What...what was this? What was happening?

In a moment, Morgan would toss the Mamoru clone aside with a single motion, the girl’s throat filled to the brim with venom. Her eyes locked on Rodias again, a hand reaching out to touch his cheek, before the roar of a gun rang out and slammed into the back of Morgan’s head, the medusa caught completely off-guard by the shot from the rooftop. Finding her body not responding to her commands the medusa could do little else but look back, seeing the sniper leaving the rooftop, and hissing lowly under her breath, eyes shining their usual gold. She was more than a little angry, now...but was completely immobile.

Rodias was frozen, already partially petrified as his legs and lower body became stone, the Dhampir’s resistance failing as stone crept up his flesh.

It was time.

The tension in the air had been thick enough for it to be shattered with a hammer. Ever since her arrival Bone Daddy had his skeletons move to prepare for this contingency, and even Mamoru’s overriding command did little to prevent what was about to happen. By the time the echoes of the gunshot was heard, Butterfly had already started the ritual as a thousand of his skeletal brothers began to fuse together, forming ten colossal sized giants of bone. Gashadokuro was formed, but not just one, but ten of them at a time. However these ten alone would not be enough to defeat the monster above. He needed precious few more seconds to truly complete the ritual, and to that end, he needed Rodias and Mamoru to hold out just a few seconds longer.

Mamoru, despite all of her defenses, was caught surprised by the gorgon’s attack. She was only fast enough to witness it and could do little to stop, however the girl had made the mistake of holding back. The venom would do next to nothing to actually harm Mamoru thanks to her innate poison immunity, however she knew that she was but a single errant twitch away from dying. But as the bullet rang throughout the Chateau, Mamoru knew she had her duty. She needed to protect Rodias, by any means necessary. Her own life was no longer relevant. With the last of her strength, Mamoru shattered a panacea against Rodias; a high level curative item capable of undoing most status effects. She had no idea if Morgan’s petrifying gaze was anything beyond that, so a panacea would hopefully be able to cure any other affliction that she put onto Rodias. Mamoru would normally be gentler, but she could not afford to do so right now as she then took out a second item: a lead mesh sack. Largely meant for Mamoru’s actual maid duties to hold onto any acidic or corrosive material, it’ll also be usable to wrap over the gorgon’s head, hopefully keeping her effectively blind and unable to use her gaze attacks for just a few seconds. It wasn’t going to be an effective maneuver for very long, but for the few seconds she can provide, this was the best that the clone could do.

Charme had met Kath at the base of the mountain, just as agreed. Next to her was a simple carriage, fashioned from mostly wood. It was reminscent of a small stage coach, and even had a chauffeur sitting atop it, holding the reins to a horse which had been borrowed from the Beast Pens - after much agonizing declines to what the vampires suggested as 'better' mounts... The cochman looked fairly drab, dressed in unassuming clothes and his face had a blank, empty look it, as did his eyes. It was clear that this was a homunculus created by the alchmist to serve merely one purpose, and not engage in anything else.

Once both were aboard, the wagon began to roll. The inside wasn't anything special, but at least they didn't need to walk. The time in the carriage though was mostly spent by Charme going through and over the cipher made by Kath, asking her questions and doing impromptu quizzes and tests, back and forth, to get them more accustomed and familiar with the script of the natives. It was a rather simple feat, seeing as how both Kath and Charme were quick learners, studuious and very intelligent women. When they took breaks from their little study-sessiosn, they either chatted idly or focused on their own little things.

The trip was uneventful, no interception by bandits or highwaymen, no random monster attacks and no wheels breaking or flying off the carriage. Charme paid almost no attention to the outside that rolled them by, caring little for the flora, fauna and enviroment at large. After all, she was an indoor-person, and it wasn't like she'd ever go outside and search for herbs or reagents on her own time - that's what they had their little servants for.

Still, once they arrived in the city and got off the wagon, Charme's first impression settled on her face quickly. A slight frown and narrowed eyes. She was not impressed, unlike Kath. The town was full of dirty-looking people, the streets were dirty, the buildings were dirty, there was a plethora of mostly unpleasant smells and many passer-by's were giving her leering looks. The latter-most couldn't be helped of course, Charme knew this, but the former issues were a greater problem. Being a bit of a pedantic neat-freak, Charme loathed uncleanliness and unsanitary enviroments... And this place... Well..

"What a cesspool..." She said under her breath, shutting the door to the carriage behind her.

As soon as she and Kath were off and out of the wagon, the coachman flicked the reins again, and began his trip back towards the Chateau. He would travel to the base of the mountain, leave the carriage and lead the equine back up to the beast pens. Whereafter both he and the carriage would collapse into a heap of raw materials. Charme always did put timers on her minions and creations that were only meant to exist for a brief period, after all.

"Well then, kitten." She said, looking at Kath, her unpleasant expression gone and replaced by her practicied smile. "Let's get to it. Rodias wanted us to visit the local library, so let's start there, yes?" She said, rather than actually asked.

Grabbing a scruffy local by the shoulder, Charme sweetly inquired as to where the library was. After being told where it was, and politely turning down an offer to get a drink later - twice - she and her companion began their trek. The two ladies received looks as they passed on, Kath more so for her draconic heritage and features, while Charme received looks for... Other.. Reasons... It didn't help that her regular walk had a bit of swing to her hips, causing the tight-fitting dress she wore to showcase her voluptuous figure with each step. Perhaps she should've gone with a different outfit for this outing...

At the library, both of the women passed the litteracy test with ease, being allowed access to the texts and tomes of this strange new world. A trivial success, but a success nontheless. For now, they would need to learn what they could, before setting their sights on Rodias' second goal: Finding a way to make local money.

"So, which topics would you like to read about, dear?" The woman turned her head to kath and asked. "I really don't mind either way, so choose whatever you want and I'll pick something different so we can cover as much information in as short a time as possible." Charme explained.

---

~ Later, at a most mediocre inn, during the night ~

Charme was sitting in a poorly made wooden chair in her and Kath's room. The place was a dreary setting, full of cheap furniture and shabby decorations. The beds didn't look particularly inviting either, just some frames with hay, covered by a ratty sheet with a lumpy mess for covers... But, given that they weren't familiar with the costs and typical going-rate for things when it came to local prices, the two had thought it best to be frugal for now.

As they sat there in the dim light of a few wax candles, the sudden sound of Graft's voice echoed in Charme's head, causing her to jolt up and look around. She soon calmed down and realized it was just the baron using one of his oh-so-pleasant-and-invasive skills. However, his message was even more alarming.

"Charme here." She replied when asked to reply to being present.

The following moments were a mess, and after both the loud sound, from two points in the mental conversation, followed by Graft''s shouting and growling, it was clear something major was going on. In a sense, Charme was happy that she wasn't actually back at the Chateau - she wasn't a combatant and had no desire to partake in whatever defenses and stratgeies were employed in order to take down this supposed superior foe. On the other hand, she did worry for her allies, and in particular Rodias. Even if she couldn't offer much in the way of combat might, she could've at least supported them with her dances or brews.

But, as it was, she and Kath could do absolutely, positively nothing. Nothing except sit and listen, while their comrades words and actions resonated in their heads like a radio drama. Charme folded her hands infront of herself on a table and rested her chin in them, a stern and serious look crossing her face.

"Rodias, how're you fairing?" Charme asked, as she hadn't heard the voice of her Lord since after the commotion broke out. "If you need to, please remember how you and the other Lords and Ladies handled enemies like this." She continued calmly. "Not by meeting and greeting them head on. But by making use of the Chateau, and its residents."

Hopefully, her words would help the Sable Lord formulate some kind of plan, or at least bring him back to his senses. But in truth, this wasn't the first time that the Chateau had been assailed by a stronger threat - it just happned to be the first time there was only one Bandersnatch-member present to deal with it. But even if that was the case, tried and true tactics might just still save the day... Or at least serve as a nuisance for their 'guest'.

Ashara could do nothing but stare in abject disgust at the amalgation that was the tree of bones and body-parts. So repulsive was it that the fox had to consciously repress the urge caused by Lord Chompy's blessing to just outright start flinging attacks at the awful, wretched thing. It didn't help that the apparent sire of this abomination was present and seemed to be some kind of nervous wreck... Or perhaps he just had a stutter?

Regardless, before either the cat or fox could act, Gromgard stepped forward - and did something utterly, utterly beyond foolish. Not only did he disarm himself and approach their target, standing out of range of his own weapon, but he also attempted to converse and offer aid to it. Ashara was dumbfounded. She wasn't smart, that much she knew herself, but Gromgard? Was he an imbecille? Their Sable Lord had given them orders to destroy and dispatch all members of this supposed cult, and here they were face-to-face with what most likely either their leader, or at least their greatest champion, and her ally was asking if they could help him?

If this was a play at trying to deceive the cultist, it went way over Ashara's head. She simply couldn't grasp why or for what reason the supposed Military General of the Chateau, would take an absurd action like this? Even though the fluctuations in the abominable treant made it diddifuclt to accurately determine it's strength, the cultist himself seemed to be on par in power with Rodias - which would normally be an enormous challenge, but the fact that there were three of them here, all being of not too far-behind in terms of strength, meant that they simply had to work together to bring this enemy down.

The remaining cultist mooks who had rallied and gathered in the shrubs and underbrush, watching and waiting for what to do next, posed no concern. All that remained to clear their objective was to deal with the man beforehand, and his horrid creation.

But then, Graft's voice resonated in her head. Ashara blinked in surprise and her tails flailed wildly.

She didn't respond. Anything she said could possibly provoke the target before them into action. Instead, she merely listened to the chaotic conversation between her fellow residents, the noise and the dire news of injuries and possible losses. She had never felt a greater desire to turn around and head back to her home, to rush to the aid and side of her friends and family. So great was it, that the fox actually trembled slightly. But, despite this overwhelming urge, she stayed. She stood fast. She had orders, given to her by her Lord, and he had not called for her to return to his side. No matter the pain she felt from hearing the voices of her peers in danger, she had a mission of her own to do. But Gromgard's way and the new situation left the woman with no choice.

Swiftly raising her arm up and opening her palm, aiming it at the cult leader, she spoke in a clear, commanding voice.

"[Spirit Bullet]!" At once, a black, swirlign sphere, the size of your average soft ball, materailized infront of her open palm. A purple, uncanny aura surrounded the orb and with incredible speed, it shot forward, towards the tree-tending cultist. She repeated this spell several times, launching a veritable barrage of these bullets at the enemy.

The spell was a relatively cheap and simple one. On impact, ti caused a purple explosion, and dealt a small deal of magic damage. It however also destroyed a bit of the target's current MP, and delivered a debuff - that lasted only for a few seconds - which stunted mana regeneration. While the debuff didn't stack or get longer with successive hits, it did refresh the timer. Hopefully, her initial attack would chew through some of the enemy's mana and leave him an easier target for Lord Chompy to deal with.

Barely a step in retreat, and Chuunitrixx bristled from head to toe. She didn’t look back. She didn’t need to. It was in front of her. Instead of going downstairs as she planned, instinct -- no, her subconscious desire -- took over, and she was mere feet from that bitch that had sent her mind reeling with fear and uncertainty was now a mewling kitten on the ground; no more a threat than a mere bunny.

Still, she had to pay.

Her eyes looked over to the Clonemoru; struggling with her bag to keep the Medusa blinds, as she choked on her own death. Her eyes caught Rodias; half-petrified from a stony embrace, and an all-too familiar fear.

"I’m going to make you suffer for what you’ve done," Chuunitrixx snarls, as she drew hard into her magic reserves, and walked towards the Medusa...

"I’ll kill you, here and now... [Heighten Damage V], [Heighten Lethality V], [Heighten Critical Rate VII], [Triple Maximize Heighten Kinetic Energy], [ Triple Maximize Heighten Fragmentation Blast], [Heighten Heartseeker], [Heighten Critical V], [Triple Maximum Heighten Echo Justice Smite]. Formulate, and Create Ammo: [Big Iron Justice Bringer]!"

Chuunitrixx slammed her foot down on Morgan’s throat -- toes digging into her larynx, "Don't make a sound. You don't desire to beg for mercy," -- as she leveled Ariamis with her chests, and opened fire with a bullet designed to do one thing: Deliver JUSTICE.

...however, with the recoil of the bullet, her right arm was whipped bacykward, and dislocated from the sheer force that exited the revolver. No. Judging from the grass-green rivulets that were escaping her jacketed sleeve, Chuunitrixx had ripped her arm, all but, off her shoulder.

It was worth it, however, with the intention of putting a hole in the Medusa's chest.

Within every rational person, there is a certain...hesitation, once their life becomes threatened. An instant where disbelief overtakes the rational mind that orders one’s self to move. For a moment, a person feels a disconnect from their nerves, their limbs; A phantom feeling overtakes them, as if the body they inhabit is not their own. To the brave, this hesitation is something negligible, ignored not even a moment after. For the weaker of mind, it was something that knocked them on their backs, forcing them to cower. What was especially strange was at this moment, the brave, the cowardly, the foolish…

None applied to Morgan. Not as the lead bag surrounding her head applied by Mamoru’s double was broken in an instant. Nothing could describe the sight of a countless number of snake heads lashing out, consuming Mamoru’s double’s arm in chunks, traveling up in order to decapitate her. And nothing could describe the eerie crack that sounded as Morgan flexed her hand. All-in-all, the amount of damage that many powerful attacks from the combatants had barely left a scratch on her. It was the equivalent of a max level RPG character fighting enemies from halfway through the game. There was no challenge. There was no satisfaction in victory. There was no hope for a special 1/168 chance drop that was necessary for an end-game weapon. There was just annoyance.

The Chateau’s residents were just a random encounter that was getting in the way to her.

Just tedium, as Morgan arched forward, eyes glowing red as a viper’s nest poured out from her backside, countless snakes manifesting and bearing her hair’s color as their scales. Her eyes as their eyes. And her eyes were glowering. Within an instant Mamoru’s clone’s body, whatever remained of it, was blindly assaulted, consumed, and gone without a trace. Craning her neck at an unnatural angle, she would point at Chuunitrixx before a snake that had slithered onto the foot that had stepped onto her throat slithered all the way onto her chest, before biting into her heart. Right at her slime core. Light would suddenly feel her hand be devoured by a snake crawling beneath Morgan’s armor, the snake soon losing its mind, but quickly having its life extinguished as it turned hostile. It seemed that they ran directly off of Morgan’s MP, and once no longer fed, withered and died. Looking up, she would smile ever so slightly at the sight of Rodias being carried away, Mamoru’s panacea working to remove the stone starting from his feet. Reaching her hand up, the girl’s mania would break for the slightest moment as she proclaimed: "Don’t worry. I’ll save you!”

With her declaration made, she would look to Butterfly and tilt her head. ”Out of my way,” she said, swiping her hand in his direction...an indication for her snakes to attack. Before one could reach however, a gust of wind would pass by and collide metal with fang, Ratta’s spear managing to bisect the snake, landing beside Butterfly as Ratta’s body descended without her head. Moving to a defensive stance, the body would autonomously defend Butterfly, the spear inside of the snake being struck by lightning as Ratta’s head, carried on a strange bat-like familiar, shouted: [“Odin’s Smite!”]

Ratta would slay the snakes, all the while Morgan would casually approach Chuunitrixx, the blunted bullet that had first struck her in her hand as she shuffled forward, eyes focused on Chuunitrixx as gold as ever, a smile on her face. "Go on. You still have bullets, right? Or can you only shoot when someone’s right in front of you? You stunned me once. The second shot? Barely felt it. I’m going to kill you all. And then, I’ll take your master where he belongs. With us. Not in a house full of hollow people, trapped in hollow dreams,” Morgan said, eyes shifting to charge her petrification skill. Something however would change, as Chuunitrixx vanished without moving. Looking to Butterfly, both Morgan and him would realize that Ratta had vanished completely as well...only to return a moment later, dropping from atop the Chateau, spear at the ready.

"...Oh, I forgot that class existed,” Morgan said eyes narrowing on Ratta, caution now evident in the way she carried herself. "...I always hated Chronomancers.”

Proudly bearing that class title, Ratta would hurriedly draw a glyph in the air before Morgan could react, shouting: [“Time Displacement!”] she shouted, causing Morgan, for all intents and purposes, to move only at half speed.

If Butterfly didn’t have a chance now, he never would have one. Especially since Ratta was rapidly preparing a [Haste] spell for him, while she weathered the still-swift-medusa’s strikes, managing to barely block a number of attacks with her spear before her left arm flew off from the bite of one of Morgan’s snakes. Then, the covering fire of the Team Leads of Graft would provide more support, albeit a number of them were to be immediately assaulted by Morgan’s snakes.

Whatever response Talim was hoping for with his cheeky taunt, he’d receive an eerie silence from the Sable Lord, even as his petrification ended in its entirety. An unmistakable look of fear had taken hold of Rodias.

Their leader was terrified out of his mind.

The effort of Light and Talim would manage to bring Rodias to the Climax Hour, and, what a sight he was. Covered in the stone dust that his body had partially become, and wearing a look of absolute defeat, Rodias was only spurred to move by the message from Charme echoing in his mind. It was only then that Rodias would react to Talim’s breath having been in his ear, the Sable Lord, blinking a few times before shaking his head. "Thank you, Talim, Light...after this, I’ll have to reward you both. Charme...things are going badly. I won’t lie,” Rodias said, standing to look out the window at the ongoing fight. The Gashadokuros were forming...but still, Rodias couldn’t just sit on his thumbs and wait. As much as he wanted to.

Exhaling, Rodias would look to Light, saying: "Light...I need you to bring me something. I need you to get E Plurubus Unum from its vault, and bring it to me,” Rodias said, his tone sounding measured, controlled...but also, fully of hesitation. Whatever the World-Level-Item of Bandersnatch did, it was clear that Rodias didn’t even think it would beat Morgan outright. Just that it might help. Even now, any gathered in the Climax Hour could see the fear in his eyes.

Gromgard stabbing the ground would cause blood and pus to pool beneath his blade, trickling out of the hole as a low groan escaped the very earth itself. Graft’s attempt to appear less threatening was met with roots binding his feet, just before Ashara’s barrage of bullets would assault the tender of this nightmarish garden.

Stepping forward, the man would take the first one square in the chest with virtually no reaction, before dodging a number of them in quick succession, before all at once stopping as one stray shot hit the tree behind him, causing a face on it to grow bloodied and wail. A tense moment followed where the cultist didn’t move, weathering Ashara’s bullets of magic before he suddenly cried out in agony, running his claws along the length of his lightly armored form.

”I. I. I. I...FORGIVE ME! YOU...You…” he would wail, as thin streams of almost pinkish liquid dripped from under his mask, the man stooping low before charging at Gromgard, kneeing him square in the chest.

”ARE NOT WORTHY OF HIS GLORY!” he would scream, sending the goblin lord flying for his blasphemous proclamation of questioning how to help in a land filled with His radiance, with His glory, as if anything at all needed to be done. Save for water the plants.

His eyes would glower at Ashara, before he stopped low and charged forth, intercepted by Chompy Bits’ Living Nightmare.

Zouyu was already drooling at the prospect of such delicious looking seafood, and especially loved the idea of grabbing treasure to impress Rodias. Just as his bare feet hit the sand however the weretiger would lurch, as if startled, and listened to Graft’s message. A look of fear crossed his face as he looked back to Kaldorna, who was likely getting the same message. It wasn’t a question of what was more important to Zouyu it seemed, as the weretiger dropped to all fours and got to running, his extremely high agility meaning that he could keep pace with Kaldorna’s beasts no problem.

As he ran besie Kaldorna’s mount, Zouyu would look to her with fear in his eyes, saying: ”T-They’ll win, right? Nobody ever beats Bandersnatch! E-Especially not with a Sable Lord at home. ...Right?”

The weretiger was clearly afraid, not liking the idea of his home being attacked. Even if he was always the first one to fight off invaders, his garden was something he always tried to keep in order. A garden that was now being torn apart as everyone’s lives were on the line.

Overconfidence. Overestimation. Boundaries, so easily overstepped in anger, blinding and complete. Drained of most of her Mana, Chuunitrixx felt an unfamiliar sensation of [Mana Burn] overwhelm her, and take her focus from razor-sharp to a butter knife. If she had even a fraction of the usual, she would have been able to teleport away from the massive serpent that slammed into her chest -- the reptile summon wasn't just aimed at her chest, but targeting it; burrowing in and seeking out something.

Chuunitrixx's eyes widened, as her chest split open, revealing her Treasure Chest, as the snake battered through her lock, and sank its fang deep into her Slime Core; the impacts of the fangs sending dozens of spidering cracks along the globular surface, and injecting poison into her True Heart. Screaming, Chuunitrixx threw her arms into her chest, as she staggered backwards, and shrugged to pull it off, as her body struggled not to go into anaphylaxis. It was hooked in deep, however, and she wasn't physically inclined.

Hyperventilating, Chuunitrixx struggled, as she pulled with all the strength she could muster; however, her right arm was barely pulled with even a tenth of her paltry strength, and her left arm wasn't able to make up the slack. This was the gulf of power between them. Her very best had gone into her shots, and yet, they had made almost no difference.

All she could do was watch, eyes wide with terror, and taking everything about her in, as Morgan approached her.

Morgan was beyond her, and she was going to die.


Chuunitrixx groaned, as her eyes flared a blinding gold, and teeth as thick as the pommel of a claymore ejected from the rim of her Treasure Chest, "Devour."

At the mental command, the sniper pulled her left arm to her side, and, suddenly, slammed her fanged Treasure Chest shut -- her right arm would disappear up to her elbow in a bloody mess. The sheer force of the ultimate ambush predator sheared through the snake, as easily as it did itself, and the snake's last action was to exert all the pressure of its jaws upon her Slime Core, and shatter it; however, it didn't have the proper life force to direct its brain power in that effort, so it merely chipped the core -- a grievous injury, but survivable.

Chuunitrixx, however, was, effectively, in the middle of a heart attack and exsanguination from an amputated limb that was beyond repair. She needed to be moved, hospitalized, and under a knife to remove her right arm and get her Greater Doppelganger heart beating again before she died from blood loss, heart failure, or both.

Needless to say, she was in danger.

A danger that sent flags up through Enderall, and triggered a deep exhale from the rooftop. "Haaaa... [Soul Shatter], [Malignant Pulse], [Dark Pulse], [Boreal Winds], [March of the Rime], [Magnetic Inversion], [Starlight], [Haunt of the Gemini], [Triple Maximize Gravity Well III], [Triple Maximize Wail of the Banshee]. Formulate and Create Ammo: [The Theory of Cataclysm]..."

Lying across the rooftop, Socrates slapped a bullet into her Mimicry of Black Knight Londo, and loaded a Blackhole laden with a lot of pulling and dazing for Crowd Control, Cold and Dark Magic for Magic Damage, three spells for Demoralization, and a hyped up Instant Death spell.

It would spread and swallow everything and everyone that didn't escape in time; to her, that was a non-issue, as she would teleport down, and teleport Chuunitrixx out.

The rest were left to their own devices.

"I shouldn't have let you go out there..." Socrates cursed herself for negligence, as she pulled the trigger. "I won't repeat that mistake."

It would have only taken a fragment of a second for the bullet to reach.

But a fragment of a second was plenty of time for someone who had no need of time at all. Sightless, breathless, motionless, time stood at a crawl as Ratta’s spear ever so slightly caught the bullet that Socrates had launched, delicately flicking her wrist to have the bullet’s trajectory lead into the sky, far out of any reach of any living being. Standing motionless before the statue frozen in Socrates’ image, the timekeeper’s clock ticked on as her MP gradually drained, before the sound of the evening bell would arrive, heralding time’s continual march.

"How quaint. Betrayed by the wet nurse," Socrates says, as her panelling spun; casting off her Dopple of Chuunitrixx, and settling back into her Prime Form. "Why would you stand in my way," she asks, panels going blank, like sculptor's clay, as her eyes took in Ratta; from her appearance data to her character data. Ratta could hear faint whispers in her ears, in her mind, as Socrates sifted her memories; doppling her, as only a Greater Doppelganger could. "Are you no longer aligned, or simply foolish?"

There was a pause before Ratta moved or even reacted, blood streaming down her eyes as the data that Socrates received came in, revealing just how far into the red that Ratta was in mana, to the point that more than half of her physical health was missing. It was likely that any further casting would kill her if done, a slight smile on her lips as she looked at Socrates. ”I am aligned to Bandersnatch. Chuunitrixx is part of Bandersnatch. As are you. But, so is everyone else,” Ratta said, looking down at where Chuunitrixx had been, the mimic already vanished, spirited away by Ratta with her first time stop. The second had come to stop the bullet from arriving. With a bit of mental math, Socrates would immediately be able to tell that the mere act of saving Chuunitrixx had already exhausted her mana with Time Stop, a spell beyond her level even with the Chronomancer class. And to do it a second time was the equivalent of severing a limb to cast it.

”Everything...will be alright…” she stated, suddenly embracing Socrates as her eyes grew glassy, exertion starting to cause her health to drop further. ”I will...make sure you are okay…” she said, trembling as she stood.

Socrates looked at her, and smirked. "I'll never wash this blood out... [Time Stop]... [Maximize Heighten Red to Blue]... [Realign Soul]... [Triple Maximize Heal Critical Wounds]... [Time Unwind]... [Haste]... [Temporal Displacement]... Now, one last touch..." Socrates flicked Ratta's nose, as time resumed, "Leave suicidal casting to those that can die without consequence..."

In the blink of an eye, Socrates has brought Ratta back to full Health and Mana by exchanging her own with "Red to Blue" to turn her health into magic to heal the Chronomancer, and cast a 75% Evasion Buff on to her, while removing the pre-existing Debuffs from her little stunt. As a result, Socrates was able to simultaneously pay back her debt, assure the living defense system didn't bite it, and flex a little -- all at the low, low cost of ending with 0 HP and 0 MP.

Literally, the scolding flick and following state culminated in the Mimic turning to clay, and collapsing in a heap of mannequin-like parts; destined to regenerate at some point.

Ratta was taken by surprise as her nose was flicked, her head rolling off her shoulders, barely caught from falling off the building by her body leaning back to catch it. ”...Just because you can, does not mean you should…” the Chronomancer grumbled. Even without her Time Stop, she was still insanely fast, running down the building and keeping a hand atop her head to keep it from falling off, heading back to the midst of the fight to keep Morgan occupied while Butterfly worked his plan to defeat her.

---

With dialogue from @The Irish Tree