Framing A Moose

Forgotten Space

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Location: Galley -> Room 3
Skills:

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"Yep," Cal replied when Kyle asked if she'd passed the blood test, giving him a thumbs up as she answered, both as a show of confirmation, and to present him with the bright red smudge of blood that decorated it. Once the knife was in his hands, she joined him in his investigation, first taking the postcard between her fingers, and flipping it around to read it. Her brow wrinkled curiously, her lips jutting out in thought. "Huh. Weird," she casually stated, before giving it back to Kyle. It didn't take long for Cal's side of the investigation to lead her to the nightstand, inside of which sat an odd leather collar.

"Shit, that's kinky!" she exclaimed, lifting the neck piece in front of her face. She inspected it for any strange mechanisms or hints that might've suggested it was some piece of advanced technology like its previous owner, but she found none. It seemed just seemed like the kind of collar you'd get for a dog, but big enough for a person. After she was certain there wasn't anything dangerous about it, she put it around her neck, fastening it in place. She followed Kyle out, briefly popping into the bathroom to take a look at her new fashion item. It didn't exactly feel like her style, but it wasn't far off. It was honestly just nice to have a piece of clothing that wasn't scrubs.

Cal entered the Galley a few steps behind Kyle, taking up position beside him once he'd stopped walking. As he spoke, she silently raised her thumb, to prove her humanity to the rest of the group. "I mean, we're pretty sure," she answered when Sophia asked her question, before gesturing to the collar on her neck. "This lovely little piece of fetishwear was what was in her nightstand. Kyle found the postcard in some secret compartment in the dresser, so I don't suspect it belonged to her. Plus I can't think of anyone who'd send hugs and kisses to a robot." As if willed by a humorous deity, it was at that moment that she noticed Zarina trying to catch the space Roomba as if it were rabbit she wanted desperately to pet. Cal gave a small nod, an amused smile on her lips."Well, maybe one person, but I don't think she had anything to do with it."

When the subject of searching the rooms in pairs was brought up, Cal was surprised by her instinct to go with the kid. There was a strange instinct to protect her that Cal didn't completely understand. From the short time they'd known one another, it wasn't as if they'd gotten along swimmingly. Was she a mother? Was that where her urge to protect the kid came from? She didn't feel like a mom. Cal quickly drowned out the instinct with logic. One of the stronger, more put together people would probably be better match to look after the manic disaster child, and Cal didn't even want that responsibility anyway. Besides, the kid seemed preoccupied. So she turned to Kyle. "We already did a beaut of a job pillaging one room. Why mess with success?" She asked, extending her fist to him for a bump of acceptance.

Ω Heroes of Olympus: The Next Age of Heroes Ω

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Leandra Lovelace

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Location: New Rome - The Senate House
Skills:

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Leandra's lips pursed when Nancy addressed her, her writing ceasing and her head tilting up from her book to look at the bushy-haired praetor. Her eyebrows slowly furrowed together as Nancy spoke, raising her pen up to rest against her chin, listening to the command with a small, thoughtful frown. There was a silence for a few seconds, even after Nancy gave the blonde senator permission to speak. She cast her gaze down at her notebook, where the outline of a system involving the rotation of Cohort 4 between training and setting up the landing pad sat written in black ink. This new...development meant that she'd have to make some edits to it, and her cohort would be spread even thinner. After a few seconds, she looked back up.

"Preparing for the Greeks, helping with the traps, and preparing ourselves for the war to come? That's quite the workload...but I suppose if anyone can do it, it's Cohort 4. Though I will be submitting a request for a minor withdrawal from the celebratory feast funds. Just enough for coffee and pastries in the mornings, and quality spreads in the afternoons. Good food results higher morale and better work," she said, before looking down at her notebook. She lowered her pen to write, but before it hit the paper, she pulled it back, the way one would if they almost cut the wrong wire of a bomb. She looked puzzled for a moment, before speaking again. "I'll write up a quick schedule concerning which cohorts will be aiding my co-centurion with the battle preparations at which times. It might be a bit sloppy, given our time restriction, but I'm sure it will do." Even if a messy timetable were among the things that the people of Camp Jupiter would worry about in the time of crisis, they wouldn't have had to. Leandra's version of 'sloppy' was still more straight-laced and organized than many people could ever hope of achieving.

"Long live Rome...and her people," Leandra stated, raising her own hand to vote to adjourn the meeting, decorated with pink acrylic nails sharp enough to be afraid of, with her pen resting between her thumb and forefinger.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Iris Rivers

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Location: The Wedding -> Reception
Skills:

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When Iris first heard about the wedding, she had been less than excited. She didn't believe in the institution of marriage. Wedlock was just that: a lock. If a pair of people love each other, they shouldn't care what the law has to say about their union. Not to mention, she wasn't exactly fond of the idea of sitting in a stuffy church and some over-the-top recital hall for an evening. But she considered Guin a friend, and she liked Pietro well enough, so she decided it would only be right for her to attend. She was pleasantly surprised to discover, however, that both their wedding and reception would be held outside.

During the ceremony, Iris had taken a seat in the back. She knew that there were people who were better acquainted with the married couple better than she was, and she was really just lucky to be invited, so she didn't mind being in the pew farthest from the front. Despite having gotten it only a weak prior, grass stains were visible on the bottom of her dress, from when she'd decided to take it for a test run around the mansion's gardens. She had listened intently to the vows, savoring them. Even if some might disagree, vows were a deep, heartfelt form of poetry, which Iris appreciated. Despite her enjoyment of the vows, however, she was one among the first people to start towards the reception area once the ceremony was finished. Poetry was all well and good, but nothing beat a good party.

Between the ceremony area and the reception area, Iris managed to ditch her flats in a bush, opting to go barefoot. Once there, she began dancing before the music even began. In fact, as soon as they were in the reception area, she couldn't help but start bouncing on her heels as she walked, her lengthy limbs rhythmically swaying around her body. Despite this, she didn't head to the dance floor, instead dancing around the outskirts of the clearing, making her way to the bar, where she grabbed a bottle of beer. Growing up with a rather relaxed parental figure, it often slipped her mind that drinking at her age was technically against the law. She continued to move wherever her subconscious took her, until the music actually began, at which point, a grin spread across her lips. "You guys might've fucked up with pollution, capitalism, and corporate greed, but your modern music is fucking dope!" It was unclear who exactly she was talking to, but the person closest in vicinity to her was Bethany Bell, the X-Men's resident goth.

The Gifted - Concluded

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Waverley Watts - Feedback

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Location: Old Mutant Underground HQ - Outside in What Might Be a Trap, or Might Not Be
Skills:

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Had the situation been any different, Waverley likely would've pulled away from the clean newcomer's embrace, or at the very least, tensed up. After all, he was a stranger, and the Underground worked in an environment where trusting strangers could lead to far worse than a picked pocket. But she didn't. Instead, she melted into him like a puppy brought in from the cold, her body completely relaxed as she leaned into him. Perhaps it was because she was still under the effects of Callie's empathy, or perhaps it was because of the boy's pleasant scent and his striking resemblance to her mentor. Or perhaps it was that he was the first person to try and give her a hug since joining the Underground, a fact that she only realized as her head found the crook of his neck. More likely than not, it was a combination of all of those. She didn't look at Veil, even as she responded to her, eyes staring forward into the fog-covered road.

"Turning you in wouldn't help anyone." She was silent for a moment, before continuing. "It's not about what's just or fair, it's about what will help people. His actions caused the rift between humankind and mutantkind to grow wider than it's ever been before. If people saw us giving him to the police, it might help patch that divide up...I understand that he'd be risking his life, but that's what heroes do. So if he's really a hero, then..." her voice trailed off, and she gave a shrug, allowing the others to make their own assumptions on how the sentence would end. She only half-listened to Warlock's words as he spoke, tuning out bits and pieces as she stared numbly ahead. When he said her name, though, her eyes lifted up to him, narrowing in anticipation of what he had to say. When he offered her the chance to kill him, her lips curved down into a frown.

Ever since she'd seen the video of the nail incident, she'd been struggling with the desire to beat him to death with her rebar. But with Callie's forced serenity flowing through her body, and the boy peacefully presenting himself like a lamb ready for slaughter, Waverley couldn't find an ounce of herself willing to go through with the act. There was no rage in her quieted mind. Then, he went on. As he thought allowed, Waverley's brow began to furrow inquisitively, her head lifting up from Echo's shoulder as she listened intently to what he had to say. It sounded...insane, but it also sounded possible. She opened her mouth to speak, only for Sapphire to cut in. It was all too normal for Sapphire to be cold, even rude. But this level of emotion in her cruelty was new.

"You can't just say 'no offense' and assume everything said after is completely fine," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "Anyone who would join the Underground knows that the system is broken. Don't think I don't know how the world works just 'cause I'm young. I know the world's fucked up. But it doesn't have to be...Warlock's right about one thing. We shouldn't just give up on what the world could be. Peace...equality...they're not gonna happen unless someone makes them happen. There's no reason that someone couldn't be us...at least in part." She hesitated for a moment, realizing that she'd gotten off topic. She then let out a sigh. "I know you're not angry with me. I know something happened, and you're just lashing out. I don't know what it was, but whatever it was, it must've sucked. So...we're cool. I forgive you." With that, her eyes flicked back over Max.

"Do you really think we could do it?" she asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice, overpowered by the sound of her hope. "Do you think we could bring her back?" Her then cast her eyes to the ground thinking for the moment, before looking back up at him. "And what about the other officers? Can we bring them back? And..and once we have them back, what about Erg? We'd need to bring Erg back for Sunshine...Where exactly do we draw the line? If we have the power to bring people back to life, it wouldn't be right to just bring back our own loved ones. That would be selfish. So where do we stop? What kind of moral obligations would come with that sort of power?"

Harry Potter and the Alchemist's Quest - Discontinued

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Location: The Knight Bus - Bottom Back -> Carriage 1
Skills:

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"Right then, lovely chat," Fae said, her lips pursed, as she watched her blonde acquaintance walk away, moving towards the front of the bus. She didn't actually mind so much that Georgina didn't stay and spill whatever was on her mind. She knew if she were going through something, she probably wouldn't want to talk about it with someone she was only kind of friends with. Besides, if anyone could help anyone with an emotional problem, it was Hagrid. While he might've been on the same intellectual level as Fae, he was far more empathetic than her, with his kind gruff voice. Any hint of disappointment of not being able to help Georgina more was quickly erased when the bus lurched back into erratic motion, at which point Fae went back into her state of excited shouting.

When the Knight Bus eventually came to a stop, Fae stood from her seat, dazed grin on her lips, her legs wobbly as she got to her feet. Unlike many of the other passengers, she managed to reach the end of the ride unscathed, a fact she attributed to her athleticism, not taking into account the possibility it could've also been solely dumb luck. It didn't take long to gather her things, and, as she made her way towards the exit of the bus, her Head of House's voice rung clear through the air. A small frown took residence on her lips. With her somewhat inadequate deduction skills, she assumed that this was about the confrontation on the train, despite the fact that a number of people who weren't involved in it were called as well. She let out a groan as she trudged outside. As she exited, she looked towards the magical horseless carriages that would be taking them to their destination, her eye being caught by Madalyne entering the first carriage, followed a few moments after by Elizabeth, as well as Mary, the twins, and Georgina entering the second. With both of her best friends choosing it, she made her way to the first Carriage. Upon entering, her eyes immediately went to the two of them.

"Oi, , Flame, Mads-" she greeted, before she caught sight of the other two. She paused, contemplating whether or not she should switch to carriage two, to catch up with her more nerdy friends. But in the end, she decided against it, knowing that Elizabeth wasn't particularly good friends with any of the other passengers in the carriage. Instead, she gave a mockingly formal head nod to Paige, and then Zelda. "Mads' girlfriend. Mads' girlfriend's girl friend," she continued to greet, before taking a seat in the last free seat.

Forgotten Space

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Location: Galley -> Room 3
Skills:

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Cal's nose wrinkled up in distaste when Manny one-upped her by voicing his own percentage of certainty towards a medical background, which was much higher than hers. Half of her wanted to chirp up with an 'actually' and raise her percentage, but she suspected that she wouldn't be believed. Her wrinkled nose was quickly joined by a slight frown when 95% had the audacity to give her permission to come along, as if he was some sort of commander, in charge of the lot of them. She was surprised (and annoyed) that Vinnie, their resident feminist who'd been offended by her breathing exercises, didn't pipe up to call bullshit on that. Not wanting to villainize herself, Cal opted not to argue as she walked along with Manny.

Once inside the Galley, Cal saw Luke and Gordon, the latter of which with a steak and a first-aid kit in his possession. She didn't say anything as Manny suggested they each have their own knife. She agreed with him, but with his haughty, superior attitude, she didn't want to do so out loud. So instead, when he marched over to help Luke with his cutting, Cal sauntered to the dispenser's touch screen. The steak was already up on the screen, ready to be ordered, so she tapped on it. It didn't take long for it to come out, though as she waited, a number of the other amnesiacs entered, namely the ginger, the energetic feminist, and the...indescribable child. She glanced around at the group, watching as 95% went from Luke to Zarina, beginning to patch up her wounds. She was glad he was doing it, because the process didn't look familiar to her. It gave her a sudden pang of worry. If she was a medical professional, even a pharmacist, she'd know how to clean a wound, right? Did that mean she was one of them? She scanned the room, seeing a number of people had already dug into their flesh proving they were human. She didn't want to. What if she wasn't? Thinking quick, she tapped on the screen again, ordering another steak.

"See, that's why you don't cut yourself with robot jaws, mate. I tried to warn ya," she said after hearing Zarina mention the immense pain she was in, she herself waiting for the second plate of steak to arrive. Once it did, she grabbed the pair of knives in one hand, and used the other to scoop a small handful of small adhesive bandages from the first-aid kit, shoving them into her pocket with her pill bottle. "I'm gonna check in with Kyle, see if he's a robot," she casually commented, before heading out the Galley door. As soon as she was alone in the hallway, she ducked to the side, lifting up the leg of her space pants to her thigh. She slid the blade of one of the knives right above her left knee, making a small cut. She held her breath in anticipation, until she saw a bit of red trickle out of the wound, at which point she let out a relieved sigh. She grabbed one of the adhesive bandages and slapped it on over the wound, before lowering the pant leg once again. Rather than cleaning the blood off to hide the fact that she'd went behind the others' backs to test herself, she jabbed her thumb, allowing a more obvious wound to open. With that done, she walked the rest of the way to room three, stepping inside to see Kyle investigating. "Oi, I'm here for your check up. Go ahead and jab yourself with this. I've got little band-aids if you need 'em," she said, holding out the knife.

Ω Heroes of Olympus: The Next Age of Heroes Ω

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Leandra Lovelace

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Location: New Rome - The Senate House
Skills: Bureaucracy

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Leandra raised her eyebrows when Leda openly insulted her, though peculiarly enough, the senator didn't seem displeased. In fact, there was a smile on her lips. She looked oddly...impressed. "A truth-telling tongue can be a very powerful thing in New Rome. I'm all too interested to see what else yours is capable of," she said, a coy smirk propping itself up on her lips. She gave a satisfied nod as the Greeks faded from view, before her attention was quickly snagged by Madalyne. The amused look fell from her face, taken over by a small, tight-lipped frown. Her eyes scanned the room in search for someone to defend her, but she found no one. The people who wanted to appeared to be too afraid to do so, and others appeared to be nodding along eagerly, ready to obey their mistresses. What a bunch of kiss asses. She didn't let it annoy her too deeply. It wasn't their opinions she valued. Without another word spoken, she stood from her seat, giving a bow that was far too deep and dramatic to be in any way genuine, before taking a seat, and opening her book back up as Nancy began to speak.

Leandra Lovelace was a woman of the people. Or, at least, she always tried to be. Her job had her working among them, taking requests, getting signatures, keeping up with everything going on with everyone. There were few names in New Rome she didn't know. They were her people. She kept her ear to the ground, listened to what they had to say, and brought it up with her to the senate house. To silence her was to silence them. That's what infuriated her the most. She was their voice in the Senate, and she'd been silenced for defending herself. She'd been telling the truth when she'd said that she had been planning on bringing up finances only after the meeting had been discussed. Even so, their dismissing of the importance of penny-pinching didn't sit well with her, but she wasn't surprised. It wasn't them who'd have to pay when funds started running out. It was the people on the ground. The already uncelebrated legionnaires who'd have to work twice as hard on half the food, the probatios who'd have to clean the latrines without proper health safety equipment, the children who'd have to shiver away the winter nights because their blankets were thin and insufficient. They would be the ones to suffer.

Even Madalyne's decree that her cohort would be the only ones setting up the landing pad seemed like an unjustified and tyrannical attack on her. Dumping the entire endeavor on her cohort would surely put them behind as far as battle preparations, and if something massive truly was coming, that wasn't something they could afford. Miss Crane was setting them up to be canon fodder. She wasn't sure if it was because of the praetors' personal dislike for her, or if it was done out of a lack of respect for the lower cohorts, but both were plenty plausible. She couldn't let that happen. So as Nancy spoke, Leandra wrote in her book, setting up shifts at which a certain number of people would be setting up the landing pad, and the rest would be training, ensuring maximum efficiency on both ends. Of course she listened to Parker's description of the vision too. She'd have to be a fool not to, and she was no fool. On the page opposite to her planning of the landing pad shifts, she'd scribble down bullet points, listing any important tidbits Nancy would drop. Had she been able to ask questions, she'd have asked if Nancy had been chained up with the other demigods as well, or if she was free. But she wasn't so she simply kept her eyes on her pages and wrote.

The Gifted - Concluded

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Waverley Watts - Feedback

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Location: Old Mutant Underground HQ - Outside in What Might Be a Trap, or Might Not Be
Skills: Radio Wave Interpretation

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Waverley could feel the rage continuing to simmer in her veins as Max apologized. She didn't believe him for a second, though that was likely a subconscious choice more than anything. It was easier to doubt than it was to forgive, especially with such a personal issue. But her distrust of the regrets he voiced was somewhat validated when, almost immediately after he was done, he shifted his tone to compliment Veil on her leadership. It made Waverley seethe with anger, hearing her mother's demise mentioned as a passing apology. It reminded her of the morning she first learned of the accident - or murder, as she thought of it - when Veil addressed the tragedy with only a sentence or two in their morning briefing. The infuriated purple-haired girl prepared to continue her verbal attacks on her mother's killer, when she felt a hand land on her shoulder.

Waverley Watts couldn't remember the last time she felt calm. It was probably when she was a kid, before middle school or high school, before she ended up befriending a group of girls who would rip her throat out if she ever made them look bad. Before societal pressures and the unbearable fear of embarrassment carved out a permanent space for themselves in her mind. Even when all was well, and she was in the company of her new friends in the Underground, there was a lurking dread of humiliation that hung constantly in her mind, an anxiety that never went away, a little voice that told her what thoughts to voice, and which ones to keep inside. But as Callie emotionally uncorked Waverley, not only did her hatred and rage drain out of her, but so too did that voice. She felt nothing but serenity. Is that what Casper felt like when he took those pills? If so, she understood the appeal. It was something she could see herself getting used to, which was a thought she didn't have the sense to be scared of in her current state of tranquility.

Emptied of the wrath she'd held only seconds later, the unnaturally loud heartbeat that exuded from Waverley died down, quickly becoming inaudible once again. Her sharp expression dulled, passionate scowl softening into a thoughtful frown, and her wide, hostile eyes became half-lidded and relaxed. Her tense shoulders dropped as she stepped away from Max and the destroyed care package between them. Without a word, only a small nod to Callie, sat down on the sidewalk. She reached out her mind, scanning the area for any out-of-the-ordinary transmissions that would suggest someone was approaching. When she felt none, she lifted her head, dropping back into the conversation.

"Warlock? In fifth edition, the warlock is the class that makes deals with devils. Fitting for you, I think," she said, though it didn't sounded at all spiteful. It sounded vaguely bemused. That amusement quickly drained however, as a new thought came to mind. Or perhaps it wasn't new. It felt like it had been there all along, but was previously inaccessible amid the noise and rage that had been drowning out most of her coherent thoughts. But with all that gone, the thought surfaced. When Waverley spoke, it was cold, collected, free of fury. "You're not a hero, Warlock. I don't think you ever will be. But that doesn't mean you can't start trying," she paused, lowering her eyes to look down at the asphalt. When she looked back up, while she still looked mostly at Max, her eyes would occasionally glance at the members of her own team as well. "The day you killed...the day you killed my mother and her fellow officers, it wasn't just their families you hurt. You hurt relations between humans and mutants. You gave the people who hate us all the more reason to do so. That's not something you can fix completely...but you might be able to undo some of the damage done. If you really do want to be a hero then...come with us. Veil can mask our faces, so our identities are hidden, but our status as mutants is clear. Once she's done that, we'll go and hand you over to the police. I can send a tip to a few news stations, moderate ones, so they can get footage of it, and make sure that people know the truth about who turned him in. If people see a group of mutants handing over a known cop killer...It might not change everyone's minds, but I think it'll help." As Waverley finished, she looked to the other members of the Underground, trying to gauge their reactions to her suggestion.

Harry Potter and the Alchemist's Quest - Discontinued

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Location: The Knight Bus - Bottom Back
Skills:

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"Oh, don't mention it. It was really my pleasure," Fae replied, giving Penny a grinning nod that made it look like she was trying to be dignified, but not in any way succeeding. Instead, she looked like an overly excited child on Christmas, or the eighth night of Hanukkah. Part of Fae wanted to stay on the bottom deck with Penny, Beatrice, and Chiara, but she had told her friends she'd meet them once she was on board. It'd be a dick move to ditch them to hang out with a pretty girl, even if it was Penny Haywood. When Penny mentioned the possibility of classes together, Fae swore she could feel her heart skip a beat. "A girl can hope," she replied, mentally cursing herself for her open cringe-worthiness. She quickly gathered her things, preparing to head up the stairs to search for Madalyne or Elizabeth, when the booming voice of Hagrid caught her attention. The name he spoke was familiar to her, an acquaintance she knew through Mary and Apollo, but at first she didn't believe it would be the same person, as she hadn't noticed Winthrop or the twins among those on the bottom deck. But when she looked, down near the back, she saw the blonde girl clear as day, not looking particularly cheerful. It struck Fae as odd that she was alone, save for the patronus of a golden retriever dancing around her. Fae hesitated for a moment, glancing back over at the stairs. She was sure her friends would understand if she didn't show up because she was helping a friend of a friend. So with that final thought, she began to walk down the aisle towards Georgina.

"Locke?" she called as she made her way to the girl. Concern was present on her face as she closed in. "Everything alright? I'd have expected you to be up with Mary and the Twins, wherever they-" she began, but before she could finish, without any warning, the bus lurched into action. Fae managed to stay on her feet, though there was a notable change to her presence. The sympathy her face had held moments before was replaced by a massive grin. She let out a hearty laugh, following it with a loud, "WOOOO-HOOOO!" Dickhead the Owl didn't seem to be enjoying it nearly as much as Fae, however. Once the driving had gotten slightly less erratic, Fae flopped down onto a seat next to Georgina. "Riding the Knight Bus was a bloody brilliant idea! Why don't we do this every year?!" Fae exclaimed, her gaze finally turning back to Georgina. Her face showed a twinge of guilt, the excitement of the ride having distracted her from the reason she'd stayed on the bottom deck to begin with. She glanced down at the luggage that had banged against Georgina's, and her lips curved into a frown. "That looks like it hurt. How bad is it? Do you want me to go find Mary so she can do her cool little healing thing?"

Ω Heroes of Olympus: The Next Age of Heroes Ω

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Leandra Lovelace

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Location: New Rome - The Senate House
Skills:

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Leandra felt a twinge of annoyance when Madalyne voiced her distaste for agreeing with her, though she didn't show it, instead keeping the smile she put on for the sake of the Greeks plastered on her lips. She had hoped that the praetors, or at least Madalyne, the more reasonable of the two, would put aside their less-than-friendly relationships with her in order to present the Greeks with a united front. But by the looks of it, that was going to be out of the cards. Leandra was less surprised by Nancy's continued outburst, though just as annoyed. Her smile sat stagnant on her face, right up to when Nancy mentioned the praetorship, at which point it dimmed to a small, tight-lipped smile. That one did sting ever so slightly, though it was in no way a killing blow that ended their little conversational combat. She began to feel the familiar tightness in her chest of her own, more well-contained anger, both at Nancy and her reminder of the bigotry still existent in New Rome.

"If you'd like to discuss the discrimination towards the descendants of minor gods and our unclimbable social structure kept in place by the cohort system that both led to your election, I'd be perfectly happy to do so...during our free time. But that is not a matter that is to be discussed at a senate meeting, much less in the presence of possible future allies," she said in a scolding tone, nodding her head towards the Iris Message. She turned her head ever so slightly, as if preparing to speak to the Greeks, before twitching it back towards Nancy. "Also, if you must know, I wasn't planning to review finances until after we were done discussing what is to be done about your vision, a fact you'd have all too quickly discovered had you stayed professional rather than leaping at the opportunity to attack me on the basis of a passing comment."

By the time she was done speaking to Nancy, she felt like a blood vessel was about to pop. Her teeth were clenched behind her forced smile, and the slightest bit of anger was beginning to shine through her. And then Niah spoke, and all of that faded away. Her tense shoulders relaxed, and she let all the annoyance at Nancy drain out her nostrils in a light huff. It rose Leandra's spirits for Niah to make such a threat without any ground to stand on. After all, she'd simply been defending herself. It offered her some control that dealing with their chaotic praetor did not often come with. Her smile became less stressed and more genuine as she nodded.

"Of course, Madame Oath Binder. It'd be my pleasure to help guide you through the process." The edge was gone from her voice, replaced by calm civility. She then turned back to the Greeks, the pleasant smile still on her face. "I can't apologize enough for the behavior of my colleague here. Miss Parker is a very...passionate individual. It's a wonderful trait to have on the battle field, but she's yet to learn how to keep it in check when needed," she said, having the audacity to use a tone one might use when teasing an old friend, ending it with a small chuckle. Her next statement was directed at the Greeks, but her eyes flicked towards the other senators. "I do believe it would be best to discuss this matter here, in the privacy the Senate House rather than an open field outside of New Rome. As such, I'd like to volunteer to go down with a few of my Legionnaires and escort the Greeks' representatives here myself, as a show of good faith."