With the personnel of the Gorging Trough wholly fixated on their new mission, the days seemed to go by very fast indeed. Of course, that wasn't to say they went off without a hitch. Every day Mae applied herself to the construction of her new floor for hours and hours on end, and though the creative tools supplied to her meant that she could simply skip the otherwise egregious amount of effort it would take to manually throw up all these rooms and obstacles, realizing her vision turned out to be anything but easy. She went in with a brilliant mental image of what she wanted the Full Course to be, complete with all the scintillating suggestions of her Maneater understudies, but translating those ideas to physical space was an altogether different beast.

The headless horror found herself in a constant and frustrating loop of instantiation, second-guessing, and readjustment. Chambers wouldn't line up right, or they'd end up overlapping, and her attempts to patch things up would mess with the overall cohesion and flow. When things felt to sloppy, she'd start over, fiddling with this or that room's layout. Forget solving puzzles--[i]making[/i] one was the real challenge. Mae's every movement was burdened under the weight of her own expectations. As the final line of defense before Lady Fatalis herself, her domain needed to be airtight. But how could she account for every possibility? Even when she finally had a particular Course the way she wanted it, the moment she brought in a few Maneaters to test it they would inevitably turn up some sort of loophole, shortcut, or flaw that needed to be addressed, which sometimes demanded another total redo. Mae could only groan and try again.

Progress was slow, hampered further by the range limits of her blindsight that prevented her getting a clear picture of the whole thing, and very often she bemoaned the fact that she'd started without an actual plan in mind. Then again, without any architectural skill or experience, she didn't even possess the faculties to make a proper plan in the first place. Whenever she made real progress and the tests turned out well, Mae locked the corresponding Course down, refusing to re-evaluate or change it further, even if it made future courses harder to work around. The results spoke for themselves. By the end of the week, her illustrious food-themed Full Course was only just over half done. She couldn't even be happy with that, though; how could she account for all possible the abilities and skills that any enemies challenging her floor might have? They might possess invisibility, or flight, or the power to control water or earth, all of which would be disastrous.

Her Maneaters, meanwhile, were having troubles of their own. With their classes decided upon they began the task of training in order to develop their abilities and be more able to fight, both as the minibosses of the Full Course and just in general. Unfortunately, with no actual instructors available in Infactorium for any of their desired classes, let alone all of them, they possessed frightfully little to go on. Using the guides and records available in the guild's files they tried to figure out the rudimentary weapons provided by Cormac, but even the goal of 'not incompetent' seemed awfully far off. While their battles would inevitably involve them casting aside their classes to fight with their natural ability as Maneaters, the prospect of having a joke for a first phase left all of them discouraged to varying degrees.

At the end of the week, Mae -the tired and unhappy head of a tired and unhappy group- attended the Emergency Meeting glad for a change of pace. Even then, however, she ended up being out of her depth. "That big honkin' monster, huh?" She scratched as the back of her neck. "I dunno a great way to take care o' that thing, to be honest with y'all. Couldn't even see the durn thing 'cause o' my vision, but the others filled me in. Even if I could see it, I couldn't fight it, though. Just too dang slow." She gave a long, guttural sigh. "Maybe if I fixed somethin' real nice for it, it'd be happy enough with us to go away if asked? Or...I don't see any reason why Five-Course Meal wouldn't work on it, but if that varmint catches wind of what-all I'm tryin' to pull, my goose is cooked."