[hider=Project: Necropolis Progress Report 02]
As the Lead Survivors reported back, it was Socrates that fielded their trials, before Chuunitrixx was made aware of their plights. He was more than displeased by the setbacks handed to Gamma by the forces of natures; animal should be taught their place in the hierarchical order of power, and made notation for an Extinction Event to occur on the pachyderm-like species via damage-focused Sentries, as well as precision-focused Sentries to work on culling, but not eradicating the bird issue -- their efforts would be appreciated, just elsewhere. Equally, he was concerned about Epsilon's discovery outside the fog of war, as it were, of an army rallied to the south of weak, but sizable number. He would note to reinforce the number with double-and-a-half the Survivors count; it would bring the Village to a Population of 125, but with what they stood to lose...

"[color=forestgreen]I agree,[/color]" Chuunitrixx says, as she looked over the plans drafted. "[color=forestgreen]If we lose footholds in Gamma and Epsilon, we lose our magical capabilities. That is unallowable, Socrates. Contact Plato, inform him to erase all traces of these beasts at all cost -- [i][b][u]all traces[/u][/b][/i], I do stress.[/color] [color=red][b]Infant to Elder, [u]destroy them[/u][/b],[/color]" she instructed, "[color=forestgreen]Afterwards, contact Aristotle. Fly no colors, prepare for reinforcements, and expand as quietly as possible. All operations continue non-combatively, but if they prove aggressors...[/color] [color=red][b]Assimilate all without mercy, but bring me their leadership from child to elder. Am I clear?[/b][/color]"

Socrates nodded. "[b]I shall, also, inform Alexander and Leonidas to carry on cautiously, and prepare for their Ascendant. After which, I have business to carry out with Lord Rodias, if you will permit my continued autonomy,[/b]" he informed, and then requested. Chuunitrixx nodded. "[color=red][b]I gave you autonomy for a reason. However, your actions had better not reflect poorly upon me,[/b][/color]" she says, "[color=forestgreen]And, don't be too mean, okay?[/color]"

Socrates smiled; jaw unfolding into a Glasgow Smile. "[b]I never wish such a thing,[/b] he says, eyes Silver Knight Londo, before a replica of the resting Buster Rifle appeared on his back, "[b]I shall be the utmost temperate and delicate...[/b]"
[/hider][hr][hider=The Reaction of a Nerve Touched]
Chuunitrixx returned to her bedroom, after dealing with Socrates, and receiving a report from Beta on Remona Lizano. It seemed she was a woman of vast tragedy, from bit and pieces of gossip; an ex-Warchemist, a fusion of the Warrior and Alchemist Classes, but had become a POW for an undisclosed number of years, which made her age sketchy, but she didn't seem much older than the middle-age bracket. She didn't seem to express any of her Warchemist skills, however, as she seemed focused entirely in artisan pursuits; her modest homestead littered with unfinished works on canvas and sculptor table. However, what concerned Chuunitrixx was reports of a strangely malignant cough that had forced her to imbue in a complex solution of rare materials to shave off.

Unaccustomed to the concept of disease and sickness, Chuunitrixx didn't have the medical knowledge to really diagnose the root cause from afar, but... inviting her to the Chateau. Rodias would surely disapprove.

Unless... he didn't know...

Chuunitrixx frowned, "[color=forestgreen]There isn't a high enough change of success in bringing her here, nor bringing myself there,[/color]" she told herself, as she sat aside her eggs. "[color=forestgreen]Unless...[/color]"

Chuunitrixx could not finish her thought, before an Alpha Survivor knocked on her door, "[i]My Lady, the magical interference that Our Mother could not determine has been successfully counterscried,[/i]" she says, "[i]A Sentry Network traced it as soon as it reappeared, and followed it back to her Ladyship, Kath Erine,[/i]" the Mimic fretted a moment, "[i]She was speaking to his Lordship, Vitaphagus Graft. It would seem, his Lordship was speaking to her Ladyship through some form of messaging spell...[/i]" Chuunitrixx tilted her head, "[color=forestgreen]But, Kath was... Kath saw... That means...[/color]" Harshly, the Hivequeen's expressions set, as she realized that Graft knew full and well about her eggs, her children, and had his twisted mind set on their existence before they even were. Kath had brought him into her home, and he had stolen things irreplaceable. "[color=red][b]I want Kath here. Now. And, Rodias. They have to suffer.[/b][/color]"

The Alpha Survivor faltered in her step, as her Queen angered. "[i]My Lady, surely her Ladyship and his Majesty are innocent. It wasn't like either had control over the actions of his Lordship, and -- GRURRK~![/i]" In unfathomable agony, the Survivor screamed as Chuunitrixx strangled her with both hands. "[color=chocolate]I gave you an order,[/color]" Chuunitrixx growled, as the Mimic was being cannibalized by her touch. "[color=chocolate]I don't have room for disobedience...[/color]" Desperately, the Survivor slapped at Chuunitrixx's hands, as her skin drained of color, and her panelling was exposed. Chuunitrixx ignored her, as she shoved her half-over her balcony, "[color=chocolate][b][i]Begone...[/i][/b][/color]"

"[b]Eris, might I suggest a stronger course of action...[/b]" Socrates says, clasping his hands over Chuunitrixx's before she could let go. Chuunitrixx looked at the Overseer of the Alpha Survivors, and he guided them all back into the room; closing the balcony door behind them.
[hr]A few hours later, Socrates and the severely damaged Alpha Survivor walked -- the female carrying a pair of chests around the size of a picnic basket in either hand. Socrates was cheery, as usual, as he held her via a leash to keep her moving. Most of her brain and motor functions had been consumed; she was, essentially, a zombie with a voice and marionette control, at this point. That didn't matter to him, however, as she would serve her purpose well enough.

As they reached the Historia of Academia, Socrates summoned Kath, and the Survivor beamed when she saw Kath. Her left eye rolled back into her head, splitting in half, and spilling vitreous humour, as she cheerily said, "[i]M-M-My Lady pre-presets -- presents... urrrr... presents you... a Graft... a gift... A Graft gift... Oak... Branch... Peace... Olive...[/i]" she thrusted the chest forward. "[b]Please, my Ladyship, would you help us take this to his Lordship? Surely, he is more receiving of you than my Lady,[/b]" Socrates smirked. "[b]We are off to get his Majesty's aid, as well. Surely, an olive branch is even stronger from him.[/b]

Socrates hummed, "[b]Oh, and you can open it, by the way. It's not a weapon or anything like that. I promise, but I know, Mimics aren't trustworthy by nature. So, check, if you like.[/b]"

Kath looked at the chest with uncertainty. Why would Chuunitrixx send an olive branch? Were they at war? Well when she had first discovered that her books had been taken, she certainly would have entertained the idea, but she had thought that matter had been dealt with. When she was told that she could open it if she liked, Kath would do so. It wasn’t because she didn’t trust what was inside, but more to sate her curiosity and continue her desire for discovery. “What have we here,” she said as the hinges squeaked.

It was a vicious syrup; thick and yellow. It sloshed with Kath’s motions, and something floated to the surface... It looked like a chip of something, crimson and thin. It was joined by more; some crimson, and some blue. All swishing in the yellow goo.

Kath looked at the chest’s contents with a raised brow, still unsure of what was inside. Reaching in, she stuck a finger into the syrup to see what it was, before picking up the crimson chip that had floated to the top.

It had a symbol on it: a sword, broken halfway along the blade from the fracture of the crimson chip.

Kath still didn’t seem to understand what all of this was, but she figured that perhaps it would make more sense to Graft than herself. Closing the chest, she would pick it up with ease and lug it down to the Homunculus’ Chapter. [i]I think this will be the first time I’ve set foot inside the Factory. I hope I don’t get lost from its layout[/i]

Socrates chuckled, as he guided the broken Survivor to Rodias. Kath’s memory was her strong suit, and, in due time, she’d key in on the scent of egg yolk and recall where she’d seen a red material with the pattern of a sword on it. He was sad he wouldn’t see the moment, though.

Later, however. There was always later.
[hr]“[b]Oh, Rodias,[/b]” Socrated called, looking around. “[b]My Lady has a favor to ask of you...[/b]”

Rodias was quick to respond to the summons, stepping through the door leading out from his private quarters. [color=f7976a][b]”You called, Socrates?”[/b][/color] he would question, approaching the mimic without a hint of malice to him. He’d gotten over the slights from the other day, it seemed.

As with Kath, Socrates merely presented the Mimic that held the chest. Broken, she stammered through her little song and dance, before presenting the chest. "[b]It's an olive branch. Nothing more. Nothing less,[/b]" Socrates says. "[b]I'm sure, her Ladyship, Kath Erine, has already made her way to his Lordship, Vitaphagus Graft, to deliver the first half.[/b]"

"[b]Oh, this is one of two, if I didn't mention. And, you're free to open it, if you like your Majesty. I promise, it's no trap nor trick, nor weapon to attack his Lordship. But, you know Mimics...[/b]" Socrates chuckled.

Rodias hummed, examining the chest with just enough caution as to appear hesitant, but not enough to appear fearful of it as he tensely opened the chest. 

As with Kath, Rodias would find the chest was all but brimming with a vicious, yellow goo that sloshed with his motion, and also had chips in it; these of yellow and green. "[b]As you can see, no attack nor explosion. Shall we,[/b]" Socrates asks. "[i]Oak... Olive... Willow... Branch delivery... Message... Graft...[/i]" the Survivor stumbled over her own tongue, and she coughed violently, before clearing her throat, "[i]Red-Red-Ready to g-go... Message delivery... Peace...[/i]"

Rodias curiously sniffed the chest, looking to Socrates. [color=f7976a][b]”Before you go, would you mind telling me what this...liquid, is?”[/b][/color]

Rodias would pick up on the scent of egg yolk, with his sniff. "[b]The only thing someone like his Lordship would seek of my Lady, your Majesty,[/b]" he says, "[b]Genetic material to experiment with. Surely, he used her Ladyship to spy on my Lady for no other reason than to acquire trade secrets, as he would put it.[/b]" Socrates smiled, "[b]My Lady decided to save him the trouble of espionage and corporate theft. It is simply the most peaceful solution. That's what you want, right? Peaceful resolutions? Please, see that his Lordship gets what he desires from his spying.[/b]

Socrates extended the leash, "[b]Oh, yes, my Lady regrets that she cannot deliver her message in person to his Lordship, but, she gave this Mimic the task, so please, take her with. I must be off, if you've no further questions.[/b]"

There was a tangible, physically sickening tension to the air as Rodias put two and two together, the Sable Lord’s cape laying limp behind him as he stared at the mess of egg and egg shells before him. His gut turned, his heart grew sick, and the dazzling gleam of a vision he had of seeing small children perhaps for the first time in his life since he himself had been a boy were all trampled. It was...too much. Much too much. Rising up, Rodias would say: [color=f7976a][b]”No, Socrates. That will be all. Here, allow me to save you the trip back,”[/b][/color] before in a flash, without even a hint of movement, he would behead Socrates as he approached the other mimic. In an instant, Socrates’ hit points reached 0, giving him so little sensory presence after his death that it was if he would have teleported back to wherever he would spawn with Enderal’s influence. The only thing he could really have seen in Rodias’ approach was resolve...and righteous, unyielding anger.

Looking to the mimic that was to carry the message with him, he asked: [color=f7976a][b]”Would you like a healing potion?”[/b][/color] his scowl transitioning into such a natural smile that it could make nerves prickle, as if all things were an act to the great sable lord. And perhaps in light of this...olive branch….all things were just an act. And he was tired. Oh so very tired of acting, rather than doing. 

"[color=forestgreen][i]Vitaphagus Graft...[/i][/color]" the Survivor's jaw dropped, as she was speaking a recorded message, "[color=forestgreen][i]See here, the extent of your overreaching. I've given you the burden of myself. I'm sure you are well, with all your secrets, all your projects... I wish... I could punish you. I wish I could hurt you. Oh, I wish. But, I'm unable to prove that I would be... in the right... so, instead of burning bridges before they are built... I'm giving you what you wanted so desperately you would use Kath Erine to spy on me. My eggs. I even smashed them up, to save you some trouble. They aren't any different than other Mimic Eggs, but I'm sure you don't care. You're a businessman. It's all about the profit for you. That's why you use people, until their convenience ceases. But... with that innovation and drive comes unpredictable pollution... You should have left me to my secrets, as I left you to yours, dear sir. Now, the byproduct of your misactions have polluted Kath Erine and our Lord Rodias. Can you fix that? Can you fix them? Can you put Humpty Dumpty back together again...[/i][/color]"

Suddenly, the message ended with a click, and the Mimic whimpered and shuddered, as her MP and HP started tanking where she stood. After a moment of horrible seizure, she crumpled; dead before Rodias.

"[b]Tragic, isn't it? Now, [i]I[/i] have to deliver the message. Troublesome...[/b]" Socrates says, as he came from behind Rodias and picked up the leash. "[b]Shall we go, your Majesty? Time, and business, wait for no Man, Dhampyr, or Mimic.[/b]"

Rodias was already in the process of picking up the chest once more, departing without another word. He wasn’t going to give Socrates the satisfaction of a response. He’d just do it. 

Socrates followed. Rodias was learning, little by painful experience, leading was not as easy, as one could hope. Such was the lesson, the Overseer intended to teach. Now, to see what came of this...
[hr]With dialogue from [@Guess Who] and [@The Irish Tree]
[/hider]