#dash event: pyramidical cluedo

[rhulks-legs]

The foyer, despite being devoid of lingering guests, still hosted staff members. The Chieftan- no, Captain, looking at his nametag, stopping everyone as they came in seemed slightly preoccupied with an idle chat with the other staff member working tonight. Miush leaned against a wall, quietly cracking jokes that led to amused huffs from the Scorn captain. Ydriskis, his nametag read. He seemed open enough to conversation, as checking the guest list was easy enough work.

[aurea-fide]

the boogeyman arrives

The pyrmaid gleams in the distance from where he stood on his ketch, his primary arms crossed against his chest. His good eyes stare at the distance thinking about the invite and wonders if he should of not accepted it. But a distant part of him knew that he should go. It’s not often an eliksni is invited to these events - one such as himself no less. 

Did they know of his legends? Did they know of the rumors? 

Jorvek gives a rasp through his teeth. He wonders sometimes. Feeling movement on his shoulder, his eyes shift to glance at his ghost who appears. “Stay, close.” 

[ Righty-o. You going to speak or am I translating tonight? ]

The baronkell thinks about it for a moment. His throat aches and he is tired. Whirlwind born as he was, sometimes he rather not talk much. He thinks about it then waves a hand. “Just, stay on stand by.” Getting an agreed hum from his ghost, Jorvek shifts to order the crew to dock his ketch not far away and to cloak it up. And once that was settled, he nods to Patch who transmats them to the doors. 

He stands there for a moment, adjusting his armor as he does so. It’s light gear and it doesnt look like armor but thats the way he enjoys it. He wore his house colors with pride now - black with a hint of lightening blue along the edges and some worn aged gold. But despite those are his house colors, the armor is a very old familiar style that older residences will recognize. What can he say? He enjoys his old 4th gear, the gear that struck fear in many. And it was who he is, and always will be. Despite being a baron-kell now, he was still the 4th. And whirlwind born. His cloak was warmer then most cloaks, rich black with their lightening symbol on the back of it. Why his house insisted on arc as being their symbol he didn't know. But he wasn’t going to stop them. 

He swaps out for his lighter mask and breathes through his teeth before nodding to Patch to curl up. Together, they walk inside, Patch giving the required information to the attendant before they make their ways into the crowds. 

Jorvek is slow as he moves to look unthreatening. Which probably didn’t work that well but he wasn’t here to cause any problems. He was here to learn, trade old stories in exchange for information. And maybe make an alliance or two. 

[fireteam-silent]

In the ballroom...

“Why are we here again?” Artemis signed sourly as Fireteam Silent walked back to the Pyramid’s ballroom. She wore a dark coloured suit with a bright vest. Closer inspection would reveal the material to be more than simple cotton, but something she could theoretically fight in if it came down to it. Call her paranoid, but Artemis did not like being in a place where the Darkness was so thick and powerful.

“We were invited, of course.” Khalom said with a shrug. She wore a sleek, gauzy, dusty-purple dress that showed off her skin and the Light swirling beneath it. “And you gotta be able to see the benefit of getting close to our enemies, and seeing who is close to Rhulk.”

Artemis continued to scowl. “Really? Because this just feels like an excuse to party to me.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Khalom elbowed Artemis gently, grinning. “There’s more than one way to fight the Witless... And I think that turning one of Its Pyramids into a place of fun and happiness can do that.”

Artemis sighed and felt her scowl lessen. Since the reveal of the Witness, Khalom had become almost... aggressively positive.

No. Not positive.

Hopeful.

“There was the library we passed,” Forget-Me-Not pointed out, finally joining the conversation. She was dressed in... Warlock robes. Nice robes, silver, with beautiful golden embroidery, but robes all the same. “If you find the festivities too tedious, I bet you could find some information there.”

“Would Rhulk really leave anything out that could be of use to us?” Artemis questioned with a thoughtful frown.

“Just because he believes it to be harmless information doesn’t mean we can’t use it.” Notts smiled softly. “And I would be... interested in seeing how this Pyramid differs from the one on Europa. It certainly feels different. Not as cold.”

Artemis nodded slowly. Khalom and Forget-Me-Not made good points, she could admit that. “I think I’ll just focus on keeping an eye out for danger,” she signed after a moment of thought. Then she smirked. “Knowing you two, you’re going to get distracted by your girlfriend, and you’re going to get distracted by books!” She looked pointedly from Khalom to Notts.

Both immediately looked sheepish, Khalom’s cheeks tinting a dark purple and Forget-Me-Not’s vocal lights flashing. Artemis chuckled silently to herself. 

They had their game plan. Khalom would schmooze her way around, talking to everyone, worming her way close and listening in on those who had been invited. Forget-Me-Not would transverse the strange halls, studying all she could, learning what they didn’t want them knowing. And Artemis would be their guard, ready to defend at the first sign of danger.

[unlikelyandco]

@rhulks-legs

Legion showed up in a black suit with red lapels. He screwed in the decorative bull horns, with red ends, too. He only went with the vibe the invitation gave, so he was glad he wasn’t wrong about his attire. It would be a shame to stand out.

With nothing better to do after the initial round, the Exo strolled over to Gale, a long, flat box held underneath his arm - a gift for the host, who turned out to be Rhulk.

“Excuse me,” He gave a small bow, one arm over his stomach, then straightened up. “did either of you see the Disciple?”

[eggsmuses-a]

He runs his metallic fingers down the creases in his suit lapel – Cayde-6 was less interested in the fancifulness of this gathering. No, who needs intel at such a big event like this ?

The Vanguard, of course.

Zavala &. Ikora couldn't attend as far as 6 knew, meaning he was free to bargain on his life. (Quite literally, may he add). After some careful tongue, the Hunter Vanguard had been granted permission to leave his post by the commander. --

"You'll be running an infiltration, Cayde." Ikora had stood solemnly, arms latched behind her back like a lock on a door. "Even if Rhulk isn't a concern of ours at this moment, you'll still need to gather intel on his acquaintances. This is an opportunity, do not miss it." --

Ikora would have known she trusted her cards in the wrong hand. Cayde had seen it in her eyes when she'd given gentle reminder of the task. Skepticism. She knew that the job wasn't what he was in it for.

&. he had to give it to the girl ! She did know him the best, after all. &. with knowing Cayde-6 came the knowledge that nothing would ever be as it seemed.

It's a game of deceit, after all.

No, Cayde was in no way interested in the party, nor the info. That RSVP only meant one thing to him –

Money.

Many people meant many glimmer. Cayde would always jump on an opportunity to exploit those he sees fit. Not that he was a bad guy, no. Far from it. He just liked to call that ... opportunity.

He cocks his head back, peripheral vision eyeing the last sliver of sunlight that licks his jawline as the Pyramid entrance closes behind him. Before he enters the opening room, there are whispers that feel like hands grabbing him. They touch at his Light, as if trying to pickpocket the power from right under his nose.

There's a sense of unease, but Cayde chooses to ignore it as he presses further into the main room. He pulls a free seat aside, vocal lights humming with soft yellow lights as he flattens his optic like closed eyes.

#ﾞ ᴄ ——— ❝ So, boys, ❞ the Exo scoffs, not particularly caring for if anyone around him was actually a boy or not at this point. He forks into his blazer, placing down some Glimmer and chips. ❝ Anybody down for a game ? ❞

[lxghtbound]

The Hunter wanders around the pyramid, making it a point to stay away from anyone new. What if they were whoever had sent the weird letter? He sure doesn’t want to get himself into unnecessary trouble. ...So of course, Scout immediately starts exploring, regardless of whether he should be where he is or not. How can he deny the Hunter instinct?

His outfit still has the traditional cloak -- a more comfortable and casual suit that’s mostly black with orange, and only slightly less hidden knives than he’d normally have. Of course he wants to look good! But he isn’t going to fully sacrifice mobility and escapability for that.

Mismatched optics peer into a new room that’s just opened up beside him, wondering where it could lead, before he jumps with surprise when he hears someone behind him. Scout does his best impression of someone who was not just sneaking around,” Oh, uh-- hey! Fancy seein’ you around here.”

[rhulks-legs]

Vhal-Cae had gathered everyone in the ballroom again. It seemed the time had come for the solution. Everyone had played well, gotten along. No more deaths during the party, and while they might all hate each other for being cooped together so long, the end was in sight. Vhal-Cae had two envelopes in hand, one white, one pink. He cleared his throat quietly, and yet…no darkness encroached this time. They were in the ballroom. Perhaps this was being observed from all angles?

“It seems that we have reached the end of tonight’s special.” He held up the white envelope. “The solution shall be revealed! But, first, let us congratulate our contestants!”

Canned cheering ensued. “This is the first group to not kill each other over this game!” Canned laughter.

“Now. Let’s check what our contestant’s final solution is!” He opened up the white envelope and took out a piece of paper. “Ooh! Looks like a lover’s dispute, hm? They think it was Sao, in the library, with a sword!” A canned ‘oooh’ follows. “Let’s see if that’s true~”

He opened the pink envelope, pulling out a gold paper. He tossed the other envelope away, then studied the gold paper. His eyes narrowed. “No, this-” He hesitated a moment, then looked around. Behind him, out of focus, something was moving down from the ceiling.

“This…can’t be right,” He chuckled. He shook the paper a bit, as if that’d change the words on it. “No, no, this is-” His words were cut off as he glitched for a nanosecond like before. He then returned to normal, the picture of prim and proper. He held up the paper, a weary look on his face.

“It was…Rhulk. In the ballroom. With…with a heart attack.”

He maintained his demeanour for three more seconds, then tossed the paper down in disgust. “This- no, this isn’t a show, this isn’t television! You can’t just- this isn’t- no, this- someone HAS to have killed him!”

As he continued on, the focus shifted to the movement behind Vahl-Cae. A Ghost was scanning the corpse. The Ghost that had been sitting on the desk in the conservatory. Focus returned to Vhal-Cae.

“-and, well, wh-WHAT WAS THE DAMN POINT?! If he died of natural causes, that- it’s medamned anticlimactic!” He groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Thank you for…for participating, and all that, blah blah,” He made a mouth with his hand as he spoke, miming it speaking along to his words. “And we will see you all ne-”

He blinked, then turned around. Rhulk had stood back up.

Rhulk had stood back up.

He clutched his head, as if he had a headache, and squinted at the room at large.

“What…did I miss?”

Vhal-Cae glitched, suddenly very much not a lubraen, and very much a human dressed to the nines in different vibrant shades of pink.

“WHAT THE FU-”

[Fades to black, credits roll, Frolic (from Curb Your Enthusiam) plays]

[rhulks-legs]

phase two

The party was going well. Very well, in fact. Most of the people had arrived, and with a grand flourish, it seemed one of the more prominent on the list also arrived. The Witch Queen wasted no time, making her way to the third chair that had remained empty all night. She sat with a whip of her dress to get it out of the way, then settled with a sigh. Rhulk turned his head, and she rolled her eyes. Mature as ever. Ohrund cleared his throat quietly.

“So.”

“So?” Rhulk glanced at Ohrund, a bit irked.

“Splendid party,” Savathun sighed out. “I didn’t think pink was your style.”

“It isn’t.”

Savathun looked over at Rhulk, proverbial brows raised. 

“Did you not-?”

“No. I did not send those invites.” Rhulk finally looked at Savathun, eyes wide.

“It was…strange, how they arrived. Time pausing does not happen often.”

Ohrund huffed quietly. “...I could do that. If I wanted.”

Savathun leaned over, looking past Rhulk and at the occupant of the third chair. “Who are you, again?”

Ohrund seethed quietly. “I am the Quinary Disci-”

“He is a constant thorn in my side,” Rhulk interrupted Ohrund.

“Well, that explains it perfectly then.”

Savathun’s smile unsettled Ohrund.

“What…does that mean.”

“Simply put, I am too important for you.”

“Kh-”

Rhulk raised a hand. “We have strayed off topic,” He growled quietly. “We all hate each other and are superior. Glad we’ve cleared it up. Now…” He lowered his hand and leaned forward to survey the ballroom. “We do not know who tonight’s host is. It is not I, nor is it either of you. Nobody here is pink.”

“Yes, nobody here is pink. I am so glad you know your colours, Rhulk,” Savathun gloated.

“I…have had it, up to here, with you.”

“Leave, if you hate me so.”

“You are the reason I cannot.”

Ohrund cleared his throat quietly. Rhulk snapped his head in Ohrund’s direction.

“Speak, o Quinary One.”

“The Witch Queen…clings to you so, despite claims of hatred. Perhaps-”

“NO,” Savathun screeched in response, causing Ohrund to laugh at her expense.

Rhulk snarled, his crest flaring. “Can we PLEASE get back on topic.”

Ohrund hummed quietly, and Savathun sent a scathing glare his way.

“Fine. The invitation, sent by our unknown host. Who do you suppose it is?”

“Perhaps one of the Nine,” Ohrund provided unhelpfully.

Rhulk rolled his eyes. “There would be cryptoglyphs on it if so. And that…ungodly smell of Jovian.” He snarled quietly.

“It was no Hive, clearly,” Savathun continued, “Nor Scorn. There is no Dark Ether on it.”

“Nor Fallen, nor anything of Humanity’s making,” Ohrund concluded.

“It does not matter. It is impossible to tell, with this heavy perfume on it.” Rhulk puts his invitation up to his face again. “...smells of roses.”

“Well…if they are hosting, perhaps they will reveal themselves soon,” Ohrund sighed as he slid down a bit in his chair.

The three sat there in silence. Rhulk then chirped sharply, and Miush rushed up.

“You are working.”

“And partying. Why?”

“I did not instruct you to do so.”

“I thought you’d want me to, as host-?”

“I am not hosting.”

“...then who gave Ydriskis the list?”

Rhulk sighed softly and waved them off. They scooted off with no comment. Ohrund hummed softly in curiosity. Rhulk murred quietly.

“This is…troubling.”

“I think it’s entertaining.”

Suddenly, a veil of darkness enshrouded the party, like the power had gone out, but…worse. It suffocated, blinded, an inky vantablack that consumed all. Multiple guests blew their Light and Dark in a panic, trying to defend those they loved or fight off whatever caused it to happen. Multiple gunshots rang out, as did the unmistakable swipe of swords. When the darkness receded, all the guests found themselves in the ballroom again. They seemed to have been arranged, like actors in a play, in the centre of the room, around something. At first glance, there was nothing to be gathered around, but before anyone could look down the doors slammed open.

Waiting in the doorway was a 40ft Lubraen, bubblegum pink, a lacy mask over their face instead of the matte one Rhulk had. In place of Rhulk’s crest, they had an oversized mink scarf, and instead of the familiar clunky anklets Rhulk wore, they had lace cuffs there as well. Seemed this one had both escaped the blast, and was fond of the richer things in life.

“Looks like you’ve all received my invites! Good, good!” The mystery Lubraen approached the group, then leaned over to look at whatever they were gathered around, prompting the group to also look down. It was only now that the guests noticed Rhulk was not standing with them.

This was due to him being dead.

Very, very dead. Dead as a doornail. In at least eight visually distinct ways. Frozen by Stasis, stained by Nether, burned by Solar, fried by Arc, touched by Void, covered in claw marks, bullet wounds, sword cuts, and remnants of Hive magic.

“Oh, it happened already, did it? Shame.”

The Lubraen clapped twice, and the darkness from earlier swallowed the party whole again. This time was…different, however. A small, indistinct musical jingle played, evoking the feeling of a sitcom. A booming, clean cut voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere.

“Welcome back to WHODUNIT, the show where we see who has the most blood on their hands! Tonight, you’re hosted by Vhal-Cae!”

The light returned, slowly, as if they were fading back into reality. From nowhere and everywhere, an audience seemed to cheer. Vhal-Cae, it seemed they were called, now stood in front of everyone. The ballroom seemed to cut itself off just in front of them now, as if this were a studio.

“Good evening, friends, Romans, and countrymen alike! I am Vhal-Cae, and tonight, we’ll be figuring out WHODUNIT to Rhulk, the First Disciple of the Witness!”

The audience cheered again. It was disconcerting the first time, but now it was just plain disturbing.

“Thank you, thank you!” Vhal-Cae bowed to nothing. “Now, normally, I would have everyone go solve this on their own, but there’s too many of you to manage that. Sooo…”

They snap their fingers, and a set of stationery similar to the set the invitations arrived on appears.

“I’ve already come up with two teams; Savathun, Ohrund, Stig, and myself are all on Team Overseer! The Overseer is me. I have to keep an eye on you all, of course.” Their eyes narrow, and a thin pink string suddenly stretches between the four of them. Bound to each other by their wrists, if only for a split second before it disappears. Something has most definitely changed, however.

“The second team is Ydriskis, Miush, Ignorance, and Control, on Team Staff.” The same process happens between the underlings of the Disciples, and they all shudder just a bit. Ignorance is the only one who shows visible disgust, because he’s the only one who can.

“However, if any of our self-made teams are…lacking, there might be a transfer.” He chuckled softly. “I will announce the teams and any changes made after.” He claps, and the darkness encroaching recedes just a bit. It’s a thin comfort, if any. Time to discuss teams, it seemed.

Submit teams here!

@lxghtbound​ @aurea-fide​ @pawnshopsouls​ @fireteam-silent​ @eggsmuses​ @stcrmcalling​ @unlikelyandco​

[rhulks-legs]

The garden, despite being better lit than most of the party to sustain the plants, was still dim. The pair observing the flowers seemed to hold varying levels of interest. The one in the dress seemed utterly fascinated, while the one in the suit seemed disinterested. He stayed by their side, however, an arm snuck around their middle to make sure nobody touched them. As people approached, the one in the suit looked up, a gaze of steel warding the weaker willed off. He couldn’t do much to stop anyone who stayed, however.

[rhulks-legs]

That darkened doorway in the hub area…it simply seemed to ooze fear. It was, by all means, a scary room. The dancing purple starmap in the middle of it didn’t help. The Caretaker seemed to pay no mind to whatever it was. Whatever was inside seemed to want to pay mind to you, however. If one strayed too close to the open doorway, they could hear insectoid chittering and creaking. Slowly, the darkness seemed to shift. Almost as if whatever was inside was waiting for an invitation to be let out.

[rhulks-legs]

the event is now open. feel free to make your own threads, feel free to ping me in posts where you want me, feel free to invade my inbox. if you need any npcs, i’ll be here :]

[rhulks-legs]

Opening Night

The doors to the Pyramid have opened. All guests are allowed inside. You catch a whiff of the same scent applied to the letters as you enter the Pyramid. The foyer is decorated lavishly, in more Rhulk-like colours. Before you enter, a Scorn Chieftan dressed in uniform stops you. He looks at a list, then nods you inside. It’d be best to explore the rest of the party before stopping to talk, you think to yourself, so you continue forward. The foyer opens into a grand ballroom, with all the drippings of high society, and a couple tables with seating.

In the room already are two Warlocks, both leaning against a wall together, whispering to one another. One is Gale Saunders; formerly infamous as the Hellfire Luminary, the leader of a band of warlords. Nowadays, he’s one of the Vanguard’s finest. The other warlock, lesser known, is an Awoken Voidwalker, and clearly a former Shadow of Calus. He wouldn’t be dressed so finely if he wasn’t. The Shadow was in a well-cut black and gold kimono, whilst Gale was in a white and gold ballroom gown. They both seemed so absorbed in their conversation, they didn't notice you.

Further in is Rhulk’s pet Exomind, Miush-Miush-1. Instead of their usual Hunter attire, they were sporting an orange spotted skater dress. Seemed they were both attending and working tonight. 

At the end of the ballroom, there were three great chairs. Of course, some attendants were larger than others, they’d have to have bigger chairs. Rhulk lounged in the middle, whilst an unknown attendant sat at his left. They seemed to be annoyed with one another, and thus not speaking. The unknown guest had four eyes, but no mouth, and seemed to dissipate into smoke where the end of his robe would be. The unknown’s face had strange markings, as well.

Deciding to move on, you go to an adjacent room. The tables spread within and the place settings indicated this was a dining room. There was a buffet at the far end of the room, and someone was trying to sneak a plate of tamales onto it. Some people would know her as the Mouth of Ohrund, while others would know her as Memory. She wore no eyepatch today; instead, she’d put an orange rose where her eye used to be.

The dining room led the way to a room that seemed to go on for ages upwards. The Caretaker was here, working. It seemed he was not in attendance. The stairs were already available. Ascending upwards led to a hub room of sorts, leading to three different rooms. One door was pitch black, save for a small purple starmap moving in a helmet. It gave off bad vibes. One door was closed, and labelled ‘Grand Archive’. The last door was open, and light spilled out.

Going in the lit door revealed a beautiful garden of flora thought to be long dead. It included such benign things as Gaian flowers, and rarities such as plants imported directly from the Black Garden (thanks to an associate of Rhulk’s). There were two unknown Risen inside. One had no helmet, but half a mask instead. Whatever was behind the mask flowed off him like a Taken. The other had their helmet completely on. The masked one was wearing a suit, while the helmeted one wore a sports blazer over a dark green cocktail dress. They also seemed to chat amongst themselves, over the case that held the flowers from the Black Garden.

There was another door, even brighter than the one you’d just gone through. Entering it revealed a conservatory, a shockingly bright one for a being with such a connection to the Darkness. There was nothing out of the ordinary inside it, besides a broken Ghost shell that appeared larger than normal. There were two doors off this one, one that led to a library, and the other closed. It was labelled ‘Study’.

Given the non-euclidian nature of the Pyramid, it was quite easy to get back to the ballroom. All you had to do was think about going back. With the little self conducted tour over, you had free reign. Perhaps some friends would be coming. Perhaps not. You could seek out the guests already here, or gain an audience with the big man himself. The possibilities were endless.

@fireteam-silent @lxghtbound @aurea-fide @pawnshopsouls @eggsmuses @stcrmcalling @unlikelyandco​

[rhulks-legs]

Event Loading . . .

We thank you for your patience.

[lxghtbound]

Originally, he had come here with his packmates, but they have all vanished to who knows where. Mint spotted Cayde earlier, so he presumes Scout’s rushed off to join the other Exo, but Prose? He has no idea.

Decidedly not one intent on socialising, he hangs out near the closest door, arms folded across his chest as he observes the rest of the guests inside the room. Rhulk and whoever was next to him have not went under his radar, and he’s mostly focused on them, wondering if this new person could be the one behind the invites, whether this is some sort of rouse to get a group of Guardians in one place to permanently deal with them or some shit like that.

Mint is too lost in his own mind in fact that when someone walks up to him he doesn’t notice.

[unlikelyandco]

@lxghtbound

Legion was bored out of his mind - the people didn’t really interest him, and so he spent most of the time in the gardens. While he was pondering some of the stranger flowers, he noticed two familiar figures enter the room.

Why were they here? A sense of guilt washed over him - all the things he kept away from them coming to the forefront of his mind. What if somehow, they were to learn about those here? Maybe it was just paranoia?

All in all, there wasn’t much space to hide, so he stood there, stupidly pretending he didn’t notice them. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite melt with the crowd, scarce as it was, dressed in a black suit with red lapels, and with decorative horns. Their tips shone like rubies, and he had the same kind of cuff links.

[fireteam-silent]

LOCATION: PYRAMID, BALLROOM

GUARDIAN: ART-851

Open

Artemis was not exploring the Pyramid. She was not socializing. And she was certainly not letting her guard down. Standing tall and still, Artemis has positioned herself by one of the walls, leaning back with her arms folded across her chest. This was her first time in a place of Darkness like this and...

And it was dressed up as a fancy dinner party. It was almost comical if she didn't hate it so much. She didn't know how much of it was in her own head, and how much of it was the Pyramid itself, but she swore she could feel the Darkness all around her, weighing her down.

Artemis sighed softly, irritated, and adjusted her posture. Forget-Me-Not had convinced her that Darkness itself was not the issue, but she still didn't like how it felt. She focused on her Light, letting the warmth of Solar wash over her, clearing her mind. She couldn't get lost in her thoughts like this. Who else would keep watch for danger?

Glaring at guests as they walked by, Artemis noted each Guardian that walked through the doors. She would absolutely be reporting them to the Vanguard...

In the ballroom...

“Why are we here again?” Artemis signed sourly as Fireteam Silent walked back to the Pyramid’s ballroom. She wore a dark coloured suit with a bright vest. Closer inspection would reveal the material to be more than simple cotton, but something she could theoretically fight in if it came down to it. Call her paranoid, but Artemis did not like being in a place where the Darkness was so thick and powerful.

“We were invited, of course.” Khalom said with a shrug. She wore a sleek, gauzy, dusty-purple dress that showed off her skin and the Light swirling beneath it. “And you gotta be able to see the benefit of getting close to our enemies, and seeing who is close to Rhulk.”

Artemis continued to scowl. “Really? Because this just feels like an excuse to party to me.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Khalom elbowed Artemis gently, grinning. “There’s more than one way to fight the Witless… And I think that turning one of Its Pyramids into a place of fun and happiness can do that.”

Artemis sighed and felt her scowl lessen. Since the reveal of the Witness, Khalom had become almost… aggressively positive.

No. Not positive.

Hopeful.

“There was the library we passed,” Forget-Me-Not pointed out, finally joining the conversation. She was dressed in… Warlock robes. Nice robes, silver, with beautiful golden embroidery, but robes all the same. “If you find the festivities too tedious, I bet you could find some information there.”

“Would Rhulk really leave anything out that could be of use to us?” Artemis questioned with a thoughtful frown.

“Just because he believes it to be harmless information doesn’t mean we can’t use it.” Notts smiled softly. “And I would be… interested in seeing how this Pyramid differs from the one on Europa. It certainly feels different. Not as cold.”

Artemis nodded slowly. Khalom and Forget-Me-Not made good points, she could admit that. “I think I’ll just focus on keeping an eye out for danger,” she signed after a moment of thought. Then she smirked. “Knowing you two, you’re going to get distracted by your girlfriend, and you’re going to get distracted by books!” She looked pointedly from Khalom to Notts.

Both immediately looked sheepish, Khalom’s cheeks tinting a dark purple and Forget-Me-Not’s vocal lights flashing. Artemis chuckled silently to herself. 

They had their game plan. Khalom would schmooze her way around, talking to everyone, worming her way close and listening in on those who had been invited. Forget-Me-Not would transverse the strange halls, studying all she could, learning what they didn’t want them knowing. And Artemis would be their guard, ready to defend at the first sign of danger.