"I wish I could," Jareth sighed, though he beamed at the praise. "But I've got a lab Tuesday, not to mention the rest of my classes. And it's a rather long commute." He nodded eagerly in response to the query of robotics. "Alright~ Hey, Valkyrie mentioned something about AIs. What's the deal with that? And why doesn't anyone else have this tech yet? Or are the governments just keeping it under wraps like the tinfoil hat guys say?" He grabbed for the arm, running his fingers along the bones and gently flexing the thumb. "Man, that's /amazing/...." --- Amuné grabbed herself a pair of gloves and slipped them on, flexing her fingers and wrists to make sure she still had adequate mobility. She glanced at Tsitua, then gave Mae a considering look, her eyes lingering on the prosthetic limb. "I think I'll let you two--" Quite abruptly she stopped speaking, brows drawing together and pain flickering across her face. And just as suddenly she forced herself to relax where she'd tensed up. For a moment her magic had flared, and the still pond had gone choppy with distress. The surface still trembled, vibrations dancing across and back, but she clung to her discipline. It had been a brief, lancing pain, followed by a whirl of images. Zoe, Bart, Curly -- a flash of the Upstairs crumbling down into the shops below, a quick glimpse of burning buildings. Curly trying to get between Bart and a man with a wolf's mask. The dead laid out in rows of lumpy shrouds. A funeral pyre leaping skyward. Bart beheaded and Seline with her lips spotted with blood, trying to breath around the kagune impaling her lungs. Zane, the light fading from his beautiful golden eyes. Her breath had caught in her throat, her heart lurching in her chest, but she had to act like it was nothing because if she made a fuss, if she told them right away then it would be even worse. All the futures matched in that regard. Tsitua would find out when he did, but not from her. "--Actually no. I'll go." Her expression had hardened, and the Seer seemed tense The exertion, the need to focus on defense and offense and what was coming at her would let her push the vision to the back of her thoughts. She would mourn her loss later. For the moment, she would let Tsitua test her. --- "Wouldn't cause me trouble...probably. And it wouldn't involve anyone else unless we brought them in. The information brokers...well, it's their decision to take that risk. Any pot stirring will most likely be her exalted majesty." The vampire gave an eloquent shrug. "I think it'd be worth a shot. I still know folks from my wilder days...someone will know someone, I'm sure." She pulled out her cell and started flicking through the contacts list. "Of course, only a scrore of them even /have/ phones, much less cell phones," she grumbled under her breath. "Honestly, you'd think they'd try a little harder to keep up with the times. It's not the 1930s anymore...." --- Had Cera not told him about Orion, who the ghoul truly was, Bart would have been telling the complete truth. But it was not enough for Wolf. The cheery, enthusiastic, and very unfortunate ghoul was beheaded before he even had a chance to realize he was under attack. Wide blue eyes dulled and breath stilled. Even as his head rolled to a stop, the wards of the restaurant flared, seeking to boost the staff and actively hinder the one who came with an intent to harm. Curly, who had already been moving toward Wolf, now growled softly and suddenly he seemed bigger, thicker, shaggy fur sprouting along his arms and nails turning into claws. The willowy girl retreated to a corner, pressing herself up against the wall in fear. The waitress with the blazing hair stepped forward, and a cook with a short spear emerged from the kitchen and vaulted the counter to join her. The man with the golden eyes stepped back and split into five, though only four of them smelled right. They spread out around the room, removing their glasses and glaring at Wolf. The weight of the golden gaze was heavy, numbing the mind by degrees. "The only Blankface I know is a ghoul, and I thought he was in Japan." The woman with the vibrant hair lifted her hands and blades appeared in them, a longsword with a negative magical aura and a katana whose energy signature matched her own. "But you have broken the pact here and are no longer welcome. Get out." She was a distraction. Curly, now in his combat form, swept in from behind with a heavy, clawed paw. He was a tank, able to tolerate a great deal of injury with the Upstairs' power behind him, and inflict serious harm. If Wolf turned to combat the bear therian, Sini and her second sprang forward to attack his back. If Wolf fended Curly off with his kagune, Lucius went for it with his spear, which he would also do should Wolf try to use it on either the demon or the spirit. Meanwhile, other diners were clearing to the walls, some frightened, some interested, and a couple even eager. A violation meant Wolf was now a priority kill, and there would be plenty who wished to cash in.