Having placed his hands in his pockets, Emile listened with rapt attention as his new acquaintance made her reply. The edge to her voice told him that she did not appreciate his refusal to swear by her binding oath, although to think that possible would have constituted an error in judgment. For her to expect someone in his position to willingly give a stranger with her own agenda power over him, though, was as naive a hypothesis. No doubt suspicion riddled her, which Emile couldn't blame her for given the myriad reasons why trusting him would be unwise, but what choice did she have? Lily seemed to know it, too, and in the end offered him a different arrangement in which he had nothing to lose.

Though prepared to answer, he kept his silence as the kitsune continued, particularly when she revealed her phylactery. Its light and movement caught Emile's eye, and a certain notion popped into his head—one that would make things so simple. For a few moments the urge throbbed within him, but in the end a wry smile appeared beneath his helmet, and he did not move. Instead, he bore quiet witness as visible emotion wracked the woman before him, new and poignant details of her past laid bare. When Lily ceased her explanation, he removed his hands and held them palm-forward, at an angle away from his body. “From the sound of it, it would be utter foolishness for me to inflict any harm upon you. I'm not at all afraid, then, to give you my word that I will not try to kill you. Having felt myself the pain of living without my friends and family for years, I sympathize with your plight, though that's not to say my woes compare to yours. Hopefully, our cooperation will be a fruitful endeavor for us both.”

From his back, a green-blue light began to shine, and at once twin streams of magical energy burst forth to take the shape of wings. Emile stepped from the top of the pillar and floated down toward where Lily and Brucie stood, his wings of aether shining in a slow dance reminiscent of aurora borealis. When his boots touched stone, the wings disappeared, and the owl stood eye-to-eye with the fox. He half-turned to the left, reaching out a hand toward where the curved swords lay against the stone. From nowhere a rush of wind, visible in the form of a greenish-white eddy, sent the weapons flying into his hand. In a casual manner he held the two by the middles of their scabbards by his side, and with his other hand he indicated the great raven not too far away. “Let's head over, then. Food, lodging, armament, whatever you require. I'm anxious to introduce you to my friends: my Armada, the lasting legacy of the others who left me too long ago.  Although, some are my own.” He glanced back toward them. “Oh. I should have mentioned, but while Emile is my original name, it cannot be said to be my true name anymore. I'm better known as Carreau, the Skydiving Prince of the Air.” With pep in his step started off in the direction of the colossal bird, back turned to his new comrades. “I'll thank you to use that name,” he spoke on, “And to forget about my past. Who I am now is all that matters: the last remaining Great One of Air Rave.”

Lily gave a curt nod and followed, stopping only briefly to pick up the dog her arms where he huddled contentedly. Her expression changed little during the walk, and she said even less. She seemed either unwilling to talk, or had nothing she deemed important enough to say. 

The animalistic quartet approached giant blackbird over rough terrain, angling toward where its tailfeathers touched the ground.  As they grew closer, a prodigous stone staircase became visible along the central plumes, and upon reaching it Carreau began to climb without delay.  A good few dozen steps later, the grand gateway into the citadel loomed over them, and Carreau took a moment to mutter something seemingly to himself.  

“Mask Presence, off.”

Though difficult to discern in what light the bright windows of the great structure provided, the air around Carreau flickered.  Before anything else could be gleaned from the strange shimmer, something hit Lily and her friends in the whole of their beings.  Not quite a wind, or any visible power, it struck them as a purely mental pressure radiating from the masked man before them.  Suddenly he did not at all seem like some game-playing shmuck in an overcoat, playing with unearned power.  Now he gave off the impression of a ruler--no, a warlord, with immense power and malice kept at bay only by incomprehensible wisdom and mercy.  He bore an unmistakable, unignorable authority, one that might be describable only as the aura of a higher being, as he set his armored boot upon the final step and sauntered toward the open gate. And yet Lily barely even twitched, looking about looking more bored than impressed. 

To either side of the doorway, standing guard, was a sentinel in heavy, white armor, each bearing an intricate bident and a tower shield formed of interlocking wings.  Between them, just slightly to the left, a woman stood at attention.  She wore [url=https://78.media.tumblr.com/6a51a26da8007faae628ecf6e7237471/tumblr_o3twepLr5H1uqnlumo4_400.jpg]clothes[/url] somewhat reminiscent of a formal dress mixed with a kunoichi’s garb, white and black in coloration, albeit with a blue-to-red gradient on the scarf that replaced what might have been a fancy collar on more traditional formal wear. The feathered throwing daggers on her belt gleamed in the glow of the interior’s crystal lamps, just as did the single black eye that glanced Lily’s way from beneath a crown of white hair tied in a ponytail save for the leafy bang that covered the other. Her look severe, she bowed to Carreau before straightening up and clasping her hands behind her back.  “Lord Carreau,” she said, her soft voice in sharp contrast to the hardness of her stare as her gaze returned to the kitsune.  “I take it your treaty was a success.” Lily answered her glare with a casual smile. 

Carreau waved his free hand.  “At ease, Penning.”  Even his voice had changed somewhat, from fairly normal to a flinty tone with a deeper, English inflection.  “You are correct. Lily here, as well as her dog and her friend Brucie, are to be treated as guests. Please spread the word.”

Penning nodded. “At once.” Though her tone gave a clear indication she had more to say, she grew quiet with an inquisitive look at Carreau following a glance at Lily.  After he gave a succinct nod, she continued.  “During your absence, Lord, Mister Screed returned.  He and Frolic found Verrine and revived her.  They await you in the atrium.”

Perking up a touch at the mention of the name, Carreau crossed his arms.  Beside him, the released swords floated upon a cushion of air.  “Excellent!”  The word seemed to inspire relief in Penning, whose tension -visible until this moment- ebbed.

“Also, Clotho’s network reports an end to the fight in the Park and what appears to be another battle about to begin in the inner city.”

Carreau snatched the swords once more and began to walk.  Penning pivoted to the side to let him pass, then with a final glance at Lily turned to walk beside him.  “Good.  The details can come later.  For now, let us welcome your sister back to the world of the living.”  Half-turning back, he beckoned to Lily’s group.  “Come along.  If you’re going to be working with us, it will pay to know every face.”

“It will,” Lily replied slowly, her ears and eyes never at rest as she took in her surroundings. She still carried the dog, holding him close to her chest. She followed him for a while before she spoke up, asking, “a question has been bothering me for a while. You evidently already have the ability to revive the dead. What more power could you possibly attain, than overturning the one constant in existence? I know you’ve said you want to be able to be the equivalent of a game master in your video game world — yes, I figured it out, you didn’t really make it difficult — but short of [i]deleting[/i] other players, what power could you gain that you do not already have?” 

The odd group’s stroll down the pristine, cathedral-esque corridor paused for just a moment as Carreau stopped walking.  A knuckle held against his chin signified his consideration for the question.  “I must confess I do not know what you reference with the word ‘game’, but if you are curious about my goals, my desire is the return of my fellow Great Beings.  Once that is achieved -and perhaps a few other things, such as removing the limiter that prevents any future growth from me- I need the wish no longer.  Even at our strength, Air Rave faces an uncertain yet exciting future, and I would not cheapen our struggle.”  He resumed his walk, Penning alongside him.  The angle of her head suggested that she paid her master’s words rapt attention.

Not far ahead stood an ornate door.  Carreau held out a hand, and a gust of wind pushed it open to reveal a huge, stunning room with a domed glass roof.  For the most part it was empty, save some decoration here and there, and the presence of a handful of figures around the central fountain.  Penning and Carreau headed straight for them, and as the distance was closed, the strange shapes of those waiting became more clear.  One appeared to be a mummified cowboy, complete with six-shooter, poncho, and wide-brimmed hat.  Beside him stood a curvaceous woman of rose-pink slime clad in an apothecary’s robe.  Opposite her, lounging on a stone bench, sat a woman in hide brawler’s armor beneath a red priestess cloak, her blue hair poking out from beneath the hood.  Right beside her, a broad, squat, mustached man with ashy gray skin and a smart-looking pinstripe suit only a few shades darker smoked a cigar, ruby-red eyes peering out from beneath his fedora.

“Umm… Boss, do I still need to wear these?” The voice was the Shark’s, directed towards Lily. He had one one of his metal legs lifted, and pointed at the mushroom-filled skirt and shirt that tied them to his feet. “We’re not really sneaky anymore.” 

Lily seemed to consider it a few moments, idly scratching the dog behind one ear. “Alright, take them off. Stuff the clothes in the bag somewhere not filled with pastries. I might be able to repair them when I get home.” She then directed her attention to the crew of individuals before her, taking a step and a half to the side, as if to not get blocked by Carreau. She betrayed no reaction as she looked slowly from one to the other, merely giving each a shallow nod of acknowledgement, and greeting.

Before anyone could say anything, the slime woman threw herself at Carreau, almost bowling him over and causing Lily to take a step back.  Everyone else present winced to varying degrees, embarrassed on the apothecary’s behalf.  She embraced him in a sloppy hug, rose-red tears welling up around her eyes.  “Carreau!” she bawled, “I’m sooo sorry!  Instead of trying to find you...I went off and got killed fighting for some stupid wish,  I-I brought shame on Air Rave, on you, on everyone!  I thought you’d hate me, I’d never see you agaahaaain!” 

Stiff with mortification, Carreau laid a hand on her head and patted her shoulder with the other.  “Agh!  Don’t...uh, do not worry, Verrine.  All is forgiven.  You’re back with us, that’s all that matters.“  

Verrine fell silent, still shaking.  The uncomfortable atmosphere lingered until the gunslinger let out a cough.  “Well!” he rasped in a gruff voice as dry as his bandages, “That’s mighty kind o’ ya, Lord.  An’ mighty nice to see the bunch reunited.”  He crossed his arms, turning slitted yellow eyes on Lily and Brucie.  “So who’re these folks?  Ah, where’re mah manners.”  Removing his hat, he revealed a bandage-wrapped, spike-crowned head that most certainly was never human.  Holding it across his chest, he performed a slight bow and introduced himself.  “Mah name is Screed.  If yer a guest o’ Lord Carreau’s, yer a friend o’ mine.”  After replacing his hat and straightening out, he joined the others in affixing the newcomers with an expectant stare.

Lily met his gaze and dipped her chin, never taking her eyes off of him. “I appreciate it, Screed. My name’s Lily, this is Brucie,” she waved a hand at the mechanically enhanced shark, then at the dog still in her arms “and this is Mouse. As for why we’re here, Carreau and I have made an arrangement, of sorts. I will leave it up to him to relay the details, but suffice to say it is... mutually beneficial.” 

Behind her Brucie nodded, seemingly agreeing with all she had to say, but then spoke himself, “also, is anyone here an engineer? If’n we are gonna work together, I’d like if someone could look at my water cannon and see if they could maybe repair it? Hardly better ‘n a hose as it is now.” 

Penning bristled.  Though she held her tongue, perhaps anticipating what Carreau might say, her annoyance indicated that Brucie and Lily both had broken some sort of rule of conduct, even in the short time they’d been present.  Mr. Screed, however, replaced the hat on his head and shrugged.  “None o’ us here.  Maybe Serval could help ya.  Our artificer.  Or, maybe he could whip ya up somethin’ new to replace it.  Reckon this weapon of yours shoots water?  Shouldn’t be too hard to replace.”  His arms disappeared beneath his poncho, and his eyes shifted to the squat, suit-wearing cigar smoker as he hopped down from his bench.

Taking out his cigar, he released a cloud of black smoke in the newcomers’ direction, then turned to Carreau.  Instead of craning his neck to look up at his master, the mustached man pulled a ledger from his coat pocket and tapped it with his knuckles.  “Sir.  Early report on the ancient city.  Lots of soul energy, see?”  He released the pad, which floated up to land on Verrine’s head.  Having calmed down but not yet relinquished her grip on Carreau, she opened her eyes in surprise, but the ledger had stuck fast.  A quick look around made her realize the embarrassing situation she’d put herself in, and with a nervous laugh she detached herself and stepped back.  With a [i]shluck[/i] she pulled the report free, straightened up, then handed it to Carreau.

A turn of the owlman’s hand created a swirling eddy told hold the item in the air beside him,  One by one he spoke to those present who had yet to state their business.  First, he faced Screed.  “Was there anything else you needed?”

The deadshot shook his head, unleashing a minuscule cloud of dust.  “No, sir.  Jus’ wanted to see y’all together an’ meet the newcomers, really.”

Next came the priestess.  “What can I do for you?” he asked.

“Finished the assignment.”  Contrary to her stately robe, the maiden’s voice was rough and growly.  “Shock absorption’s good, but basically no resistance to cuttin’ or piercin’.”

“Ah.  I’ll go over the genetic blueprints with Clotho later.”  Everything taken care of, Carreau addressed Lily and Brucie.  “We got off on a little tangent there, but I will go ahead and conclude these less-than-formal introductions.  You’ve met Mr. Screed now.  My retainers are Verrine, Penning, and Margot.”  From where she’d slouched this whole time, the red-cloaked woman gave a casual wave.  Carreau then indicated the short, ashy man.  “And this is Egon Baratta.”

“The pleasure is all yours.”  Ego gave a terribly slight bow of his own before turning to walk away.  After only a few steps, he dissolved into a stream of ash that shot across the atrium and through an open door.

Evidently thinking such an exit standard fare, Carreau continued.  “What would you like to do, then?  I can summon a servant to guide you to Serval’s workshop, or to a guest room, or you may join Verrine and I for a meal.”  The slime woman’s eyes practically lit up at the mention of food, just as Carreau anticipated.

Lily, on the other hand, frowned at the proposals, her lips pressed into a thin line seemingly in deep thought. She shot a glance towards Brucie, her eyes flickering from his right arm, to the pack he carried on his back. 

Brucie - the shark - was difficult to read on most occasions, given his inhuman features, but the way he kept not-so-subtly shaking his right arm, and glancing down at it, his preferred option was easily foreseen. 

It seemed that Lily had the same thoughts as Brucie, since she gestured briefly to him, then said, “I think we’ll take you up on your offer regarding the workshop. The more weapons Brucie has, the more help me will be to me.” 

Brucie’s attempt to stealthily pump his arm at the small victory, ended up about as subtle as one might imagine from a piece of moving metal on a shark. 

If not for his mask, Carreau’s smile would have been as apparent as Brucie’s joy.  “Certainly.”  He raised and clapped his hands,  From the nearest of the glyphs embellishing the atrium’s vast floor, an ethereal creature formed from a sudden surge of dark energy.  Resembling a bizarre cross between a bird and ray, it floated in the air with a single, glowing red eye facing its summoner.  In a clear voice, the owlman told it, “Lead the way to the Workshop at a leisurely pace.”  He replaced his hands in his pockets.  “I’m sure you’re not affected by the Umbra’s Stare at all, but they’re nothing more than sentries with knowledge of Deadbeat Sky.  It’ll guide you right to the workshop.  Say hello to Serval for me.  Nobody should give you any trouble on the way; an alarm would have been raised for an intruder, after all.  Verrine and I will proceed to dinner in the meantime.”  Around him, the group had already dispersed, with only Screed remaining.  With a final wave, Carreau proceeded across the atrium, Screed and Verrine in his wake.

[hr]

The blustering was becoming tedious. Was touching a door to open it, or using his vocal chords to call upon his servants too much? One would think someone of Emile’s—or Carreau’s—power would bear a quiet confidence, rather than show it off like some prizewinning pony. Was he really that insecure in his own strength? Did it perhaps hint at a weakness he did not want her to discover? It would make sense if he was, in truth, her inferior, and made such a show of some grand power to cover up for it; to keep her believing that they were powerful enough to handle themselves. 

...No. As much as she would like to believe so, the speed with which Emile had moved earlier was the genuine article. Even Tsuki could not move that fast, and her kind was the fastest of the Shifters. Carreau was as powerful as he made himself out to be, and she knew she would be unlikely to defeat him were he to get violent. At the very least he had sworn not to kill her, but she wasn’t so naive as to put absolute trust into an oath made by a stranger. It was all too easy to weasel his way out of such a promise, even were it binding on pain of death. 

She suppressed a sigh and thanked Carreau, making certain to let none of her exasperation bleed into her voice. She then turned to the Umbra, as he had called it. Brucie as its gaze passed over them, but neither Lily nor Mouse reacted. 

“Lead the way,” she said, and followed when it finally started towards wherever this workshop was. Brucie followed immediately, as did Lily. Only a handful of steps in, however, she faded into nothing, and the real Lily became visible once more, exactly one and a half step beside the copy: Mouse, still held in her arms, was looking around curiously, sniffing the air. 

“Wha—Boss?” Brucie exclaimed, looking from Lily to where her copy had been moments before. “How? When… Why?”

[i]”Precautions,”[/i] the Shark heard an echo of Lily’s voice say. 

“Don’t trust them?” He asked, to which she shot him a glance. 

[i]”The Slime Girl, remember her? She was a contestant, but she mentioned dying, yet is here alive. These people, whoever they are, have power almost on par with some individuals from my world. I would be a fool to trust them blindly, when they so clearly outmatch me. To them I am nothing but a convenient tool, but one this ‘Carreau’ needs. Now stay silent, the less you say about this, the less likely they are to decide I am not to be trusted either, binding oath or not.”[/i] Throughout all of this, Lily betrayed no sign of anything going on save keeping an eye on the Umbra ahead of them; neither a flick of any tail or ear. 

Brucie, wisely, said nothing further, instead choosing to silently follow this Umbra as it made its way to what was, presumably, Serval’s workshop.