futurology | Entries tagged with sieglinde sullivan (black butler)

Greetings, all members of the Ophelia guild of Hathaway. It is I, Sieglinde Sullivan, the Green Witch.

I understand that there is likely much business you have to attend to now that we have returned to Headquarters, but I thought it best to extend the invitation to everyone in the interest of team cooperation.

I shall be hosting a small banquet in honor of my fourteenth birthday now that the snow moon has waned in my own world (if my calculations are correct). If you would care to join me in these celebrations, do feel free to visit my quarters tomorrow afternoon. Victuals and beverages shall be provided, and directions attached below.

Good day!

moneyballer

ay yo ladieeeeez 😜 hay hay hAY hayyyyyy ✋✋✋ if any of u girly gals need a STUDMUFFIN ✔️✔️✔️✔️ 2 help sell the whole baws asssz upper class B I A T C H than g thang thaaaaang 💁 dis boi got an 🍑 dat won't quit and a lotta lurve ❤️❤️❤️ 4 his new teamies so holla atcho homie if u need a little man 🍭 hangin around while u strut ur stuff

*and PS NO 🐵 bidness, i'm taken, ok? yee thnk u

skeet skeet

webdesigned

[The feed flickers on rather suddenly, tracing over a burned down campfire with a few footsteps spread here and there. Not all of them are worth tracking, though, some are from the party members that had stumbled on the campfire in the first place. There's some hushed discussion just behind, though nothing really clear enough to understand. Don't worry, though, Peter is more than happy to address the rest of the team.

The camera swings to him, instead of the remnants of a fire. He waves — and then he's down to business.]

Yo. [Just kidding, apparently he had to greet everyone first. For once he does not announce both of his names, instead diving right into their discovery.] So, we were poking around the Flowerlands, and in here past a few ogres, maybe three, wasn't counting, we found... something, that's for sure.

There's this fire, though it seems like it's been dead awhile. We also found a note...

[He pauses to pick it up, and despite having no clue how to read it, the handy magitek translator fills it in for him.]

Mentions a, Tsukiko? Kaori? ... and that the group camping here regrets not "convincing any of the Flowerlands Guard to their side" before they moved on to another checkpoint, where they want to meet the other two.

[There's a bit more to the note, he's paraphrasing a bit, but feel free to ask him to read it exactly if you'd like to know.]

It seems they feared the women of the Flowerlands were suspicious of their activities in this area... but. There was also this. Do excuse me, Peter-

[The young girl sitting next to your broadcaster interjects, leaning into frame and holding up a ring pinched between two fingers. A signet ring, with marine-themed markings of the Sea Clan.]

Of course, we cannot say this is proof, per se, but. Considering the news brought to us about those who carried out the ambush...

[Right. It does look, at the very least, a little fishy. haha. get it.... sorry. Peter nods, and glances Sieglinde's way.]

Yeah. Thanks, Sieg. [Is it too soon for nicknames in their budding friendship? whoops...] That's it for now.

ooc: peter is blue and Sieglinde is green! this search happened after the ambush and the fire is of the group that was responsible for the attacks at the festival, per mods. scott, anthy, or clark could interject on this post as well since the search happened together! go wild!

grunehexe

[Here is Sieglinde Sullivan, looking far cleaner and primly dressed than she has been in quite some time. Not looking exactly pleased, but not looking as sullen as she has in her last broadcasts, either.]

Greetings. It is I, Sieglinde Sullivan- the Green Witch.

I know only a handful of you remain who remember the world called Chantes, but a member of our team from that time, Sebastian Michaelis, has made his way back to Audentes.

Sebastian is a man of my own world, and you will find him both a capable servant in all domestic capacities as well as more... athletic pursuits. I can certainly vouch for his usefulness, and his availability.

I am sure if you require modifications to the Zymandis uniforms issued for the upcoming mission, he may be of service. For example.

However, please do not trouble him with any questions about his time since his team transfer- as he has no memory of ever being with us.

... I will leave you to contemplate what that means.

[She hasn't spoken to any people about her fears regarding if they will be allowed to leave ALASTAIR with memories intact, but.

She ends the post with a respectful dip of her head.]

grunehexe

Good evening. This is Sieglinde Sullivan, the Green Witch, with two questions of great import.

One. Are there any among you who have experience in the permanent inking of flesh?

Two. Are there any among you in possession of a diamond, preferably high quality, that you would not mind donating to the cause of our next mission? In the process of studying the diamond's structure I cannot guarantee it will not be damaged, so please discuss with me your compensation beforehand if you desire such.

Thank you for your attention to these matters.

heavyhitter

hey quick question, does anyone have a way to like... neutralize powers
some kinda magic spell, a science thing, none of the above, whatever you got

if not then whatever, carry on with your cure finding and missing persons search and rescue missions and stuff, keep up the good work team

figureitout

[ it has taken him three days to convince himself to talk to all of Audentes about this — three days that he now wishes he hadn't waited, because with the information from Jason and Lucina, and their numbers already depleted because of the virus... all he's doing is taking people's attention away from finding Dr. Percy.

if it was about anyone else, he wouldn't be doing this. but right now, he couldn't care less if they find the doctor or not. finding someone else takes priority for him. ]

Hey guys... it's Stiles. [ not a great start, as far as speeches go, but maybe some of that can be attributed to the fact he sounds roughly like he's forgotten what sleep is supposed to even be. ]

Look, I know we've got a lot going on right now, finding the fake doctor, all that. But, just listen for a second, okay? Peter's missing. [ a pause as he swallows before powering on; he gives no further explanations about who exactly he's talking about: anyone who has been following Team Science should know Peter, after all. ] And not in the "he was probably transferred" way, the "he's totally infected and ran away after leaving his magitek behind" way. It's been three days, I've searched the city, like, a thousand and ten times but he's —

I don't know where he is. So if you can spare some time to help me look for him... that'd be great. [ the fact that he's actually asking for help with this tells just how dire the situation has gotten.

another pause — it almost seems like he's going to end it there, but he continues, voice tight, ] But be careful if you actually find him. He's — [ god, how does he warn people and still keep Peter's secret identity? is that even something he should be worrying about right now?? ]

He's going to be more dangerous than your usual infected person. [ there, that'll have to do. ]

Just, if you have any news about him, any leads... let me know. Please. [ with that not-at-all-desperate-sounding closing statement, he ends the post. ]

( ooc: so peter is infected and needs to be found, if you'd like to volunteer for actual threads w the infected party comment to the ooc post and/or hit up katy, or if you want to thread out actual searching hit me up here! )

heelies

[There appears the grave countenance of Achilles, son of Peleus, his princely features marred by grief. His eyes are rimmed red and below them sink dark purple hollows. His beard is untrimmed and his golden curls, once long and flowing, hang choppy about his ears, hacked off by his own hand. Yet still he stands with shoulders squared and chin held high, as befits one who speaks before the assembly, and still his voice rolls forth like the iron-grey clouds that fill the sky before a storm falls.]

I come bearing unhappy news amidst a sea of unhappy news - but for me, no news could be more unbearable than this. An honorable man lies dead, overpowered in all his power, victim to one of the flesh-hungry who strike fear in the breast of this city. This was Menoetius' son Patroclus, my dear brother in arms...my partner in life. He was not long among this crew, and thus if you have no other cause for lament, then lament that you are robbed the opportunity to know him for a friend.

Yet now you might meet him through my words, I who have known him for the better part of my life and love him as I love my own life. Among the Achaeans there never was a kinder man: he cared more for the man beside him than for himself, and what he had he shared generously with friend and stranger alike. Almighty Zeus, bright-eyed Athena, and Apollo the lord of light always received supplication and libation enough from his hands. With so worthy a man gone down to the House of Hades, the country of the living is left far poorer.

In this nation flung so far from my fatherland, strange enough that the shores of windy Ilios seem almost friendly, I have not the riches I once possessed. I cannot give so grand a funeral as I would wish, as great-hearted Patroclus deserves, like that which I gave on the headland over the Hellespont. There a thousand men harnessed in bronze bore the son of Menoetius to his pyre, each one's heart filled with a dirge, while my deathless mother and all of the daughters of Nereus rose from the sea wailing and beating their breasts - but who in this land shall mourn him so? The honors I heap upon him here shall be only a pale shadow of all that he is worth, and for this my grief grows twofold.

If you have any respect for the dead and for the laws decreed by the gods, then hear my plea. A pyre must be built that my dear friend may pass proper into the House of Hades. At present he wanders lost by death's gates, the Acheron's distant shore far out of reach. How can I rest while he who is dearest to me suffers unwearying? Thus, his pyre must be built today. There is more than space enough in Oakwood Park, which lies to the west. I need strong men to stack the timbers, whatever wood can be found, and others to assist in the slaughter of the oxen, that the rich blood may make sacred the flame. None need worry about drawing the curious eyes of the Woodhurstians, for Sieglinde the Green Witch shall shield the area from sight by her clever magic.

All who come to honor Menoetius' gallant son are welcome to feast afterward. To fill my stomach when my heart is so empty is hateful to me, but what food and wine I have I shall freely share with any who proves a friend to my dear companion even in death.

[CLIFFS NOTES VERSION: His not-at-all-platonic life partner is dead (again), so anyone who lends a hand in performing Ancient Greek funeral practices shall be fed a hearty dinner of oxen kebabs. I will post a log for the funeral this weekend, but that will mostly provide narrative for the various rituals and handle the aftermath. You are more than welcome to assume your character's involvement there or in the feast that follows. If you have any questions or would like to plot, please PM this journal or find me on Discord at aristosachaion#4902!

EDIT 3/15: I have come down with a fever and am slightly dying, but nevertheless I will do my best to persist in answering these tags. Sorry for the delay!]

grunehexe

This is Sieglinde Sullivan, the Green Witch.

I shall not waste my time or yours with much pleasantries. The situation is dire, as you know.

Several of our number have been working tirelessly to develop a vaccine to this virus, and hopefully a cure.

Tests of the vaccine are proceeding smoothly, and we have seen positive results so far- it may be available within one or two weeks time if all continues to go well and no adverse effects present themselves.

I cannot guarantee nor estimate potential cures, and it is not my intent to elevate your hopes, but know that we have several leads we are exploring. Samples of blood, particularly from those of the non-humans within our ranks who are or may be immune to the virus, are much needed at this time if you have not already been solicited.

To protect against the possibility of contamination, four of us have set up in separate locations.

Urahara Kisuke, in the hospital laboratories. Peter Parker, in the university laboratories. Sonia Nevermind, at her apartment residence, 20B of Woodhurst Court. I myself have relocated from the hospital to a residential office, at 45 Pinehurst Drive.

Samples or supplies are welcome there. The others may speak for themselves, but in my case, I will not tolerate any distractions or intrusions, so please do not abuse the knowledge of that address.

[ooc; just a note from some of the Team Science members so that characters can have a better IC idea of what's going down on that front! Stay tuned for more OOC and IC info on/near the 25th!]

competing

[With all the information coming out, it's apparent to Keith and Lance that one big elephant in the room has been ignored: the infection among the recruits themselves. Keith is tired and on edge, as he needs nothing to do with the infection to be cranky. Lance is jittery, too. But they have to talk about that elephant before it gets too late.

And for some of them, it might be. That's what Keith is really afraid of right now.]

Hey. It's Keith.

and ya boy, lance! [Because things are already pretty doom and gloom as it stands, and maybe things could use a little lightening up? Or something...

It’s a little more difficult to differentiate between people in a group message like this, but it’s a better idea to get something down on text in case they need to refer to it later, and anyone who knows either of the boys can probably tell them apart pretty easily through diction alone.]

we know your mind-phones have been pretty busy lately, but theres something keith and i wanted to talk to you guys about.

Before we get a move on in attacking Zymandis' agent, we need to look at our own numbers. A lot of us are sick. Maybe less than I thought. Or maybe more. Either way, we have to know who's sick and make a plan to help our own. And I'm serious about HELPING. Not putting someone out of their misery or any of the other stupid stuff I've heard from some of this team. We need to stop this disease. We need to help our own. Once everyone's BETTER, we'll make a plan for what to do next as a team.

[It's harsher than necessary but likely less harsh than how it might be normally, given Keith's frequently frustrated tone of voice. Text mitigates some of it, even if his frustration definitely does become CAPITAL LETTERS.

Lance, meanwhile, is quite eager to gloss over that sharp reprimand because seriously guys — kumbaya.]

yeeeeeah, so — helping! getting a head count is definitely ideal. we cant afford to be silent on this and we definitely CANT be alone right now, cuz every one of us affected and on our own can be a huge risk to everyone here. so we were thinking… since the city shut it down, we can use the middle school. those of us infected can stay there while we wait for our people to find that cure. like a quarantine safe house.. i know its not ideal, but its something. especially for those who dont have any other contingency plans.

[A pause. Well. May as well get the ball rolling, right?]

ill be there.

( ooc; p.s. there is an information plotting post for the quarantine space! )

grunehexe

Greetings, Audentes. It is I, Sieglinde Sullivan- also known as the Green Witch. I am sure you are occupied with your own matters during this valuable personal time, but I must interrupt for three announcements, if you might lend me your ear.

The first is that Date Masamune, one lord of Oushuu, has been transferred to a different team. I know that not many of you have been with us since Chantes, but he was a valuable team member, and he will surely be missed.

[By her, perhaps most of all, but she manages to keep a straight face, hastily moving on.]

The second is that it has come to my attention some of our members come from worlds where literacy is not as prominent. Access to book learning is one of the most important aspects of an education, so I shall be using some of my time here in Oska to improve this situation. I am able to instruct in multiple languages, but I shall be focusing primarily on what many worlds call English, as I found it the most useful for communication during the period when our translators were defective. You may join open sessions in the castle library each day from an hour past noon.

On that note, thirdly, I need your assistance with one of those new pupils. As much as I prefer to work alone, I am afraid this issue deals with a delicate combination of spellcraft and science, and so I shall be opening up this project to others of like intellect hopefully differing experience. Graham, if you would like to say a few words?

[She reaches forward to turn her magitech brooch. revealing a certain rugged Huntsman. Said huntsman, for his part, was listening. Which explains why his first word seems more relevant to her second announcement than her third.] ...Pupil? [He's aware that means student, and feels as if he might have to explain to Sieglinde he can indeed read and write... though perhaps his handwriting leaves something to be desired...

That can be a conversation for another time, however. There's more important matters at hand to discuss now.]

Those of you present in Perdition's Rest might recall, I have been heartless for a long time. I've asked Sieglinde to help me try and find some kind of solution, though it occurred to me the secrecy didn't aide in finding a solution. [Talking to Koltira had reminded him of how much more he could do. He owed it to himself, and perhaps those who cared about him and wanted to connect to him better, to do all he could instead of asking Sieglinde to do it for him.] If you think you might be able to lend aide, or have any questions about my condition, I'm here to answer them. Even if there's no perfect solution, I'd ... I'd like to feel things, again.

[Feel things properly is perhaps the better way of putting it, but considering this is a great deal more than Graham tends to talk already, he nods and indicates that's all he has to say, and Sieglinde takes back the video.]

How anyone capable of lending a productive hand could deny such a sincere appeal I do not know. I have seen we have new recruits among us, so we look forward to hearing from you if you have experience with medical surgery, curses, or other magics.

Thank you.

digophelia

[ Here is Alice. Here is Alice trying to tune her lute and after a few strokes, Alice manages to remember a melody. ]

Ah, it surprises me, even now, I remember how to play it. It's been a few months.

[ It does sound a bit better after she's tuned it a few times. Maybe it was that out of tune? ]

And how the piano lessons I had as little girl have never really faded away. String or piano, music notes and scales are hard to forget. It's odd to think how much I used to loathe piano lessons as a little girl.

[ That's fine. Alice treasures them more as an adult, now. Especially this lute. ]

I recall some faces here in Osaka, but others... not so much. I do hope some of you have stayed out of some trouble, yes? I'm certain that some of you are already dreading the inevitable fussing from me.

Tell me, then, if you remember me... what did I miss?

[ That's her strange way of saying she misses some of you. ]

moneyballer

[Asher is decked out in the gaudiest holiday apparel you may ever see, addressing the network after months of ~~terrible~~ seemingly good behavior.]

Happy birthday to the original g-

[He raises a glass full of something suspicious in color, as if to make a toast.]

Je-

[The law student then proceeds to down all of the liquid at frighteningly quick pace before continuing.]

Sus Christ. Hundreds of years later and he’s still got bitches out the wazoo, stringin’ up lights on trees, prayin’ 2 his likeness, ‘n shit. I-D-K how I feel about the actual religion, but if ladies still want your dick after you’ve been dead for friggin’ ever you gotta be doing something right, right?

Anyways, I ain’t about to go to this holiday shindig sober, if y’know what I mean.

[And if you don’t, he’s about to explain it to you.]

I’m all for gettin’ slizzered in this blizzard, gettin’ some ice all up in my grill, and maybe if I’m lucky somebody’s balls’ll be getting jingled TONIGHT, y’all.

If you’re over 18 and are more keen on bein’ naughty than nice, come find me and we’ll pregame the party.

[As if this little broadcast wasn't unnecessary enough, Asher feels the need to get far too close to the camera and exclaim:]

Merry Christmas, bitcheeeeeeeez.

[*Please note that this post represents the feelings of a fictitious character about a somewhat religious holiday, and in no way is a reflection of the actual author's perspective, thank you.]

selfimage

Hello there.

[ Loki's standing on the porch of the ashen saloon, black bones against a dusky horizon. ]

Another day saved, another mission over ... [ he says it in an "all in a day's work" sort of tone. a finger twists and he gestures outward. ]

As the story continues! [ the drawl comes from his lips slowly, as if for dramatic effect. ]

We've met our arch-foes, saved a part of the fractured multiverse from apparent destruction and preserved the integrity of the timeline—erm, hopefully on the last two, anyway. In light of current events, and while we all cool down, I thought we'd play with a little fun hypothetical to stimulate conversation. Call it something that's been on my mind. So, riddle me this, Audentes ...

If saving a world meant destroying it—you know, kind of like a hard reset—what would you do? Would you do it, let it die and get coffee instead, or would you fight with tooth and axe for its survival, despite all odds? All methods in between, of course, feel free to be creative.

[ sometimes, some things remind him all too much of Ragnarok. ]

heelies

[As when storm-bruised clouds cast their dark pall over the sky, a harbinger of the torrent and tempest to come, so appears the countenance of Peleus' son. He is harnessed in the glorious armor that lame-foot Hephaestus did forge for him, and upon his head fiercely glints the golden helmet which once served as a beacon to the Myrmidons and all of the vast host of war-loving Argives. Like the thunder that is hurled by almighty Zeus who bears the aegis, his voice roars out over the network.]

Koltira, you whose heart is blackened with vile hatred! Hear now the son of Peleus, Achilles, best of all the Achaeans - I whose pride was rent by your blade when you did raise arms without first issuing a proper challenge as is honorable between warriors. I demand that you meet me in single combat, that I may avenge myself and slake my spear upon your blood. Meet me then to the east of the town ere the sun touches the far horizon, where it settles for the night into the couch of the desert - unless the worm of cowardice burrows deep within your breast to weaken your fighting spirit!

It is for this reason that I give my challenge in this public forum, that others may bear witness and hold you accountable to this duel. What say you, Koltira? Recoil not from the bloodshed you so take pleasure in! Long has my anger rankled in my breast, and long has my pride festered without salve potent enough to soothe it, for the cure lies only in victory by dint of my spear. Thus, today I wait no more!

[In the colloquialisms of the locals: This town ain't big enough for the both of us.]

winces

[ it's been a long and grueling week of hard work, naive hope, and a desperate need for distraction — but finally, finally, olivia has some good news to share. ]

Good... Hello, all. [ she'd forgotten to check what time it was before beginning this. oops. ] Sorry to bother, but I thought some of you might like to know —

It's possible.

[ exhaustion hangs heavy on her every word, and it is perhaps the true reason she has not opted to do a video this time. but she does not want to worry the rest over something inconsequential, in the long run, because energy can always be regained later. innocent lives, on the other hand, cannot. ]

There is a way to save them, the Deemers. I-It's a very... slim chance. [ she's careful to say this from the get-go, mindful of urahara's own gentle but firm reminders as she worked tirelessly these past few days. ] And it won't... bring them back to what they'd been before this... They actually won't remember anything at all. [ a faint pause, after her voice turns a little low, regretful. perhaps if she'd tried harder— ]

But! [ no no, let's focus on the good here. on that hope. ] It is possible to heal the damage to their minds. We managed to save someone.

[ of the few urahara had managed to keep alive after the extraction, only one among them responded to her fervent healing. ]

He's... doing well. Adjusting. [ despite it all, a part of her wonders if it had been the right thing to do. if his struggles from hereon in would make it all for naught... ]

Um. If you were gifted with the highest level of ALASTAIR's healing magic, or have any advanced healing of your own to spare, and you'd like to help... please contact me. It's... not easy. But it's manageable. [ for it is quite taxing for just one to take on all their own, as haise has been quick to remind her, but she's even more hesitant to lump that burden on someone else. ]

And if you've managed to extract a Taraxa successfully, or you have a Deemer with you... please let us know, too. Thank you.

( ooc; TLDR olivia's max healing alastair abilities makes it possible to save a deemer, post-extraction. she was able to attempt this on some deemers urahara procured his collection of taraxa from. however, it has a very low success rate, on top of the already very low success rate of an extraction, and it leaves the deemer with essentially a blank slate. but!! still!! something???! gently whispers i'm so sorry for only realizing this could be a thing now )

respired

[ Koltira sits in a comfortable albeit sparsely furnished room, on the edge of a neatly made bed. There's someone sitting with him, but only her hand--slim fingers clasped in his, gold bracelets on her wrist--is visible. He looks to her for a second, his expression briefly unsure, and his long ears twitch at her inaudible (but presumably encouraging) reply.

He clears his throat. ]

Some of you already know this, but I'm told it would be best if I shared the information broadly.

[ He has doubts, but what Olivia wants, Olivia gets.

Koltira raises his free hand. Purplish-black shadows engulf it, shimmering darkly, writhing around his palm. He repeats what he has said to Sieglinde, to Princess Sonia. ]

Those who stand with me do not fall. If you perish in battle--against these slugs or otherwise--I can restore you to life.

[ He makes a fist, and the shadows dissipate. ]

It is a true resurrection, but there are caveats. Firstly, I must reach you quickly. Preferably within a day's time. Second, the process is unpleasant. You will suffer pain, and you will be sick. Likely for almost a week afterwards. Third, it is not guaranteed. Occasionally the Light decrees that our time has come, and the spirit cannot be reunited with the body.

[ Koltira shifts on the bed. The thick duvet is cream-colored, red-checked. Homey. He seems to be in the guest room of a farm house.

Olivia squeezes his hand. ]

This is not an invitation to be reckless. It is merely a safeguard against catastrophe.

[ He pauses, as though thinking about what else to add. His expression goes slightly sour. ]

Again, I stress: it is a true resurrection. You will not be as I am. You will be whole, and you will be hale, once you recover from the trauma of the process.

[ He has the ability to bring them back as undead, of course. He could make them as he is, he could turn them to ghouls. But he wouldn't. Not ever. ]

Still. Try to stay alive.

thornydisposition

I believe I have some information that might be of use, or at least to consider.

[The voice is low and very even, having only the barest hint of a conversational cadence.]

My companion, Shuyi, and I managed to locate and capture Miz Poppy. We captured her and two of her Deemer companions, and as we began to take them back to Perdition's Rest, she had some very interesting things to say.

She reaffirmed that there was no way to safely separate a Taraxa from its host without the destruction of the latter. What is more troubling, however, was that she insisted that hers and her compatriots' mission of destruction was something which the TIMELINE.EXE asked of them.

Before we could deliver her back here, one of the other captured Deemers sacrificed himself so that she may escape in the confusion.

It is not my intention to offer this information in order to incite mass confusion or doubt, as it is quite possible she was lying. But I do not think we can completely discount that she might be telling the truth—or that she and her fellows are somehow deluded enough to believe that they are. It is, as I originally said, something to at the very least keep in mind.

daimeinashi

i have some information, directly from a taraxa:

- it confirmed the existence of zymandis; it is indeed an organization that seeks the destruction of the timeline

- zymandis employed the taraxa as infiltration agents for the express purpose of destroying this sector

- the deemers never actually existed; it was merely a ploy by the taraxa in order to operate here on q65 without suspicion

- infestation took place at the saloon, beginning with the brothel visitors

- the mother would seem to have some manner of kill switch; initially the taraxa would fall suddenly silent mid-sentence, as if forcibly silenced, then eventually it screamed and fell over dead of its own accord

paintjobs

A quick question — does anyone among us have any background in synthesizing? I know the finer points of the science are probably a little beyond your evolutionary pay grade, and I’d usually know better than to run this by a bunch of humans and humans lookalikes, but, well… desperate times, as they say.

I’ve heard from the Qorral Mayor that their species hasn’t had much success with synthesizing argecite, but synthetic materials just so happens to be one of my specialties.

[ And sure, he’s had disastrous results before, but they were still results! He probably won’t accidentally make any vampire zombies here, it’s fine. ]

If any of you think you’d be of any use to efforts to engineer an artificial compound to replace argecite — synth-ar, you could say — feel free to speak up. The only hitch being that this backwater planet doesn’t have much in the way of laboratory equipment. The local blacksmith has been told to expect us stopping by with equipment requests, but I have to wonder if even that is enough. This is a ground-up operation if I’ve ever seen one.

FUTUROLOGY NETWORK.

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