Glancing down at the hoodie the caretaker smirked and let loose a small chuckle, seeming amused rather than upset. "It's not bad. A bit straightforward, but not bad. You know when I was about your age I played drums in a group called 'Eyeballs in my Oatmeal'." She winked knowingly, reassuringly, attempting to let the girl know that everything would be alright. "Leave it. Compared to the guy wearing a sandwich costume I'd say you're doing okay." With that she walked away, smiling softly as she did so. And there, lo and behold, was a young man in a sandwich costume. He peeked his head into the assembly awkwardly, his cheeks flushed red. It just went to show; it took all kinds make a pantheon. If she were to truly look around she would notice other oddities. Amidst the twenty or thirty assembled there was a woman wearing a wedding dress replete with a veil, an older man with no shirt whose torso, neck, and skull were coated in tattoos, and even a girl wearing of those animal onesies called kirugumis. --- Glancing down at his hand in confusion for a moment Kendall tried to figure out just why she was being so antsy, not that it really mattered. Nerves, germophobia, some sort of dangerous ability; anything was possible really, and considering that it was best not to pry too much. "Pl hk! easure to meet you, Ma Khn! tilda." He said with an expression that looked like he was attempting to force a smile through a wince. [i]Hiccups! Why hiccups?[/i] He pondered as he followed her eyes around the room, glancing at the numerous individuals scattered about. They were certainly an... interesting... group. Many of them seemed normal enough, a handful were peculiar but more the kind of peculiar you would have found on a crowded bus before the End than the kind that reeked of marvelous purpose and power, that being said here and there an individual was... changed. Not in big ways; no one had sprouted wings, or horns, or grown extra arms or eyeballs, but there were still peculiarities. Silver hair. Gold colored eyes. A slight glow about the skin. It wasn't the norm, but it was happening, some of the abilities overwriting people. Glancing down at himself Kendall... "Hic!" Kendall frowned and tried to... "Hn!" He frowned and tried to imagine what would have happened if he'd lucked out and gotten some snazzy update to his look, or even just been able to do away with the bandages and the splint. His thoughts shattered and his eyes flitted back to Matilda, a small smile crossed his features, much more comfortable this time around. "I'm pretty sure if you were, you'd hn! 've done so at least once already... and that being said; I'm sure it ghnk! would have hc! been memorable." It was at roughly this time that a bearded man in a fine suit stepped towards both himself and his speaking companion; a welcome interaction, in the best of times, but considering he came bearing water it was made all the more-so. Nodding gratefully Kendall took the cup, and almost instantly placed the hand not holding it over the top. "HNN!" Came a rather large hiccup that shook his shoulders and left him looking rattled. His hand was now cold as he had managed to splash it severely, but his foresight at least meant he hadn't spilled it all over the ground, or himself. Taking a sip he looked relieved, until roughly a third of the way down his throat the water was suddenly forcefully ejected via another large hiccup. Managing to keep his mouth closed this was made apparent by the rather impressive leak now spouting from his nose. Bowing his head in embarrassment he hurriedly gulped down what remained of the water in his mouth and pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket, carefully blowing his nose. Unfortunately this was not an unusual position for him to find himself in, considering some of his allergies. As he rose back to a standing position his head swiveled around, questing for a garbage can, but he was a bit startled to find someone standing at his side holding a small aluminum bin up for him to deposit his waste in. The Caretakers, it seemed, were ready for any eventuality. Turning back to his fellow Wild Gods with an apologetic look upon his features Kendall attempted to get the conversation bak on track. "That's from... Ad... hc!! ams. Douglas Adams, one of his books, right? I read those when I was in middle school, back before..." He trailed off, as people commonly did when bringing up the End. Hearing Matilda chime in he turned to her again and nodded. "Ah, right. Thank you, Mr. hn.. Murdoch." His hiccups hadn't abated, but it was readily apparent to anyone that they were lessening. --- A hush settled over the hall as a tall man in a dark gray suit stepped out from behind a curtain. He was thing, gaunt even, and his eyes were the color of coals still flickering with embers. Above each of those burning eyes was what looked like a long scar trailing back into his hairline, a reminder of the life he had left behind, and the form he had forsaken. His features were lean and striking; his skin and general build made him appear as though he had stepped off the screen of a Hollywood movie about an ancient Pharaoh and directly into a tailors to get himself fitted for the clothes he wore. His nails were thick and black, and as he stepped to the podium they sunk into the wood out of sight of those assembled. Nervousness was not something he was prone to feeling, but this time of year he did... these mortals, these humans were not true deities, but in their collective presence he could remember what it was like to face one. The awe and fear and adoration it had inspired in him. The reason he had turned on his murderous kin for something more than himself. Clearing his throat the man drew the attention of nearly all assembled, even those few who had been making an active effort to ignore him. "Ladies and gentlemen of Million." He began, his back straight, his jaw firm, and his gaze sweeping the room intently. "My name, as you will likely have surmised by now, is Arven. It is my honor and duty as First Minister to welcome you all to Grayhall. More importantly it falls upon me to welcome you to your new lives." Closing his eyes he allowed himself a moment in which to remember the faces of each individual gathered, as he did every year, making certain that were they to fall someone would remember them. "You have been chosen by fate..." A small smile crossed his lips as he said this, fleeting but vibrant. He could still recall the first time he had encountered the Wild Gods, just after the end. Where instead of pretty words like fate he had said simply 'what the hell is going on' in confusion and outrage. Though; by this point only a handful would remember that, he supposed. "Chosen to preserve humanity." He took another pause, this one more planned, and opened his eyes. "You have been granted power, but also opportunity. The opportunity to be leaders among men, and to do what all great leaders should aspire to do; to teach, to protect, and to inspire." He stepped back from the podium and around to the small steps leading from the stage to the main floor. "Some of you know what I'm talking about, but for those who don't, I'll be blunt. The demons are out there, I can smell the reek of their infernal power all around us, as you will learn to in time. They are out there, and they seek to do us harm. Many of you have lost lives to their number both in the End and after it; pets, friends, children, parents, lovers. Families have been torn asunder, homes shattered, and a universe ended by their senseless and rapacious existence." He stepped nearer to the wild gods. Several noticeably backed away, the boy with the bird stood there in awe, staring up at the towering man as he spoke to him. "You've been given a great gift, Carter. You, dear boy, are the Wild God of birds. A vast and powerful aspect which with training could allow you to save hundreds, even thousands of lives." The mighty First Minister, a powerful demon, and the god of humanity then did something which no Wild God had ever spoken of with the common people. What he had done at each of these ceremonies since the informal first. He bowed low and said in a half-broken whisper; "Please, child. Please help us." After a long moment wherein the boy's face seemed to flicker through a maelstrom of emotion he nodded, and Arven rose and shook his hand. "Bless you." Moving to the next individual, the woman who had been speaking to Carter, he smiled and spoke once more; "Lizbeth." He began, sighing softly. "You too have been blessed. I sense within you the aspect of Charity. While it's power is not so great, it could make you a capable and competent leader, and could bring you much love and happiness in the future. Despite that I must ask..." He bowed low again, his head all but touching the floor. "Please, dear girl, please help us." She gingerly touched his shoulder, bidding him to rise, and nodded, her eyes tearing up at the humility of such an important figure pleading with her, her heart almost breaking with the urge to help. He shook her hand and moved on, with the same parting words; "Bless you." And so it went for some time as he went to each of the new Wild Gods in turn. Most assented after his words, some agreed without even letting him speak. The man in the sandwich costume raised a hand to silence him and the pair held a hushed conversation over a long and tenuous moment after which he once more offered the same handshake, blessing him once more. Each, and every new deity. ... "Smith. The god of Engineering. A fascinating subject, and one with great applications in the coming battles against demon-kin should you decide to aid us... A mighty power, indeed." He bowed his head; "Please, help us." ... "Mortimer. God of the written language. You could live an easy life as a writer, or an editor, or even in the position you now hold... but I have a feeling you want more. I think you've half decided to join already..." He smiled and gazed into Mortimer's eyes and in that moment he spoke without speaking, something that only Mr. Murdoch would hear. [i]You, especially, we'll need for the coming battles, Mr. Murdoch. You see... I can't read the language of God.[/i] With this cryptic message he bowed his head and said; "Please, help us, good sir." ... "Yes." Kendall said, even before Arven managed to open his mouth. He was trembling, but wasn't sure if it was nerves or excitement. All his life he had been a screw-up, a fall-guy, a klutz, and a loser. He was comfortable with his lot in life, if not thrilled with it, and managed to be happy enough besides; but who wouldn't want more? Who wouldn't want a chance to not just be tolerated, but adored. To not just be useful, but a savior? He hiccuped and forced a grin apologetically. Smiling at the swift response Arven took his hand, and bowing said; "Bless you, Kendall, God of Lost Causes." Leaving Kendall horribly confused, but giddy. ... "Matilda, dear girl." He said lightly, looking down at the bespectacled young agoraphobic. "You've shown great bravery in coming here, despite yourself. I thank you for it. But I'm afraid I must ask more of you. You know what I mean to say, and you're scared. That's understandable, and no one would fault you if you said no... but I still have to ask, and all I can offer in return is the knowledge that you are stronger than you think." The way he said it made it seem unquestionable, not a statement but a FACT that could not be denied. "And that you have my trust, oh Goddess of the Between." He bowed and said softly; "Please, help us." ... Eventually making his way to the mad girl Arven loosed a soft sigh, and uncharacteristically raised his hand and gently touched Jennifer's cheek. "Poor girl..." He said lightly, his ember eyes stricken and sad like those of a parent consoling their child. "You have been given an awesome and terrible power, but it's price is great." He sighed and stepped back a bit. "Jennifer, Goddess of Madness; should you choose to aid us I tell you now that these people are those with some level of immunity to your ability. Until we can find a way to better control your power these are the people it's safe for you to be around, the few who could be your friends, your new family, if you let them." He smiled sadly and bowed. "Please, help us." ... "Marcus, dear boy. As I'm sure you're already aware you have been granted a new life as the God of Gambling. A bit young for it, but who am I to bicker over vices?" He asked with a slightly mischievous grin that faded almost as soon as it touched his face. "I'm asking you now to take a gamble with the highest odds possible; risk your life. If you win, you will have fame, glory, and the continuation of human existence. If you lose, well..." He bowed his head, asking as he had every other time; "Please help us."