Elizabeth Trattner had been defeated.
It was not a notable achievement in itself, but it was a small step towards a far grander goal. Lightwards nodded in satisfaction before turning to a kitchen shelf, picking out the brightest and most distinctive cookbook he could find.
Lucentia, meanwhile, was taking a far more direct glee in the situation.
“Elizabeth, dear," she began with a frosty smile, "I had the displeasure of meeting your daughter and trust me you have failed everything one could call good upbringing, it´s almost as if you wanted your daughter to die at the hands of an Epic but don´t worry, we´ll fix your mistakes.”
The other woman flinched at the words, but her close-mouthed scowl remained unchanged. Her manacles crumbled into dust as Lucentia turned away, and one of her hands seemed to twitch towards the discarded pistol laying in the kitchen floor.
Responding at the speed of thought, a toy Warrior put its foot on the weapon, sliding it firmly away from her reach. Mrs. Trattner only glared at it before putting her hands back in her lap.
Oblivious to the scene, Lucentia stopped just long enough to insult the woman's baking before striding to Lightwards' side.
“I think I should thank you," she said brightly, showing an uncharacteristic level of cheeriness. "This turned into a very pleasant excursion. Now, shall we return to the museum? I imagine our reception will be quite pleasing.”
Lightwards chuckled. "I'm glad I could keep you entertained for an afternoon. And while I'd like nothing less than to surprise the brat at the Museum, I'm afraid we must employ a touch more subtlety. I'm still unsure of how Funtimes will react to this..."
After having Pamela grab the tray of cupcakes off the counter, the Epics and the Warriors departed the building. Once on the street, Lightwards took another look at the residence.
It was quite noticeably different than the dwelling they first entered. The door and windows were all glazed with diamond, giving the building a glittery appearance that Funtimes would no doubt approve of. It occurred to him that he wasn't sure how much food Elizabeth had in the building, but hopefully his budding project would conclude before the woman's starvation became an issue. With careful planning and a touch of luck, Funtimes would be long dead by that point, her servants all committed to a far more worthy cause as Warriors.
Until then, he needed a way to keep his actions here more or less discreet. Doctor Funtimes was unpredictable; there was no telling how she'd react to his actions here. She called the goth brat, the hippie woman, the redneck, and that thing with the unicycle by one unifying word: friends. She had made her stance on their relationship perfectly clear.
But there was a difference between protecting those glorified jesters from physical harm and making an active effort to keep their families safe. With Funtimes' degree of shallowness, it seemed likely she wouldn't care. With what Lightwards had seen of her so far, it seemed likely that the drama and complications of hostage family members would only bore her. In all likelihood she'd merely get rid of her little pets out of sheer disinterest in their whining.
Even so, there was no sense in calling her attention to his efforts until he was ready to spring some kind of trap. With that in mind, he came to a decision on how to communicate the situation to the young Ms. Trattner.
"Kneel," he told Pamela Tithers. She obeyed at once, kneeling on the sidewalk just outside the crystallized bakery.
Lightwards pulled out his pistol and shot her again. And again and again and again, killing and raising her in a way that was swiftly becoming a rote habit. He felt her mind growing even more cloudy and open to his commands, and he smiled.
"Travel to the Sadry residence. Wait for me there," he commanded firmly, visualizing the directions to the house in his mind. Though in all likelihood Pamela had never been to the dwelling, she seemed to understand the directions he was imagining, and began walking down the street in the right direction, cupcake tray still in her hands.
"Right then," he said more casually to Lucentia. "Shall we return to the Museum now? I have a few more things I'd like to collect."
It had been a charming and informative afternoon, but it was time to make an exit.
Fade appeared in their midst, beginning to deliver a steady barrage of questions about the Epics of the Empire. Many of these questions were centered around Nighthound, in particular how one would go about removing him from the world.
While it was a noble cause to be sure, Aldo decided not to get involved with this one. Flashing an encouraging smile at the Traveler, he quietly slipped away when the two converationalists were occupied. He was good at disappearing when no one was looking.
Aldo began hiking along the jungle path, enjoying the fine scenery. The good Doctor had quite outdid herself in the decor; it was almost impossible to tell that this had been a stuffy old museum at one point. Only an occasional odd-shaped hill or narrow walkway in the trees would give away where stairs or halls had once been.
He continued making his way through the forest, aiming for the entrance doors to the Museum. Along the way he smiled to himself, picking out glimpses of the Empire's other inhabitants.
One such glimpse of Funtimes and Saccharine giggling like maniacs and rushing to and fro across the jungle. Saccharine's dress seemed to be somewhat thicker than before--in all likelihood she was concealing something on her person. Aldo had done the same trick at times, though these days most of his possessions fit in his sleeve pockets.
Little Max, alias "The Sandman" was gleefully following the Unicyclist into deeper parts of the jungle, the latter's bellowing bagpipe notes slowly receeding into the distance. Now that was a pair he'd have to interview someday.
Aldo tipped his hat to the Doctor's two vanilla girls, who were passing by chatting with one another. The hippie gave him a friendly smile, while the goth glared. Lovely girls, both of them. Just the kind of fire he looked for in a one-night-only stage assistant. He wondered what it would take to buy them off of Funtimes.
He finally passed an idly standing undead elephant, which was standing with its head facing the Museum's entrance. To Aldo's pleasant surprise, the Emperor and the Diamond Queen were already entering the building.
"Welcome back," Aldo greeted cordially, once again tipping his hat. "I hope your errands were successful...?"
"Quite," Lightwards replied curtly. The necromancer immediately began seeking out several dinosaurs stationed by the front of the Museum, arranging them in a row facing the wide entrance hall.
"I am heading across the river," Lightwards continued as he arranged his dinosaurs. "I've arranged a meeting with Thoughttown's administrators, and I'd like you to attend."
"I'd be honored," Aldo said, beaming. "I haven't had the pleasure to meet ol' Altermind yet. Any particular topics we'll be discussing?"
"Killing an unkillable Epic, mostly," Lightwards replied dryly. "Other than that, it's primarily an open agenda. Get your assistant and we'll be leaving momentarily."
"Right-o, Emperor." Aldo turned back to the jungle and started back on the path.
A pair of powerful faction leaders? A room filled to the brim with Epics preparing for war? He hadn't seen anything so fun since Big Metal Fan fought Magneticus the Silent.
This was going to be quite a treat.
Lightwards watched as the Epic magician disappeared into the foliage, then shifted his attention to Lucentia.
"I'll be returning in just a moment," he assured her. "I simply need to handle another business matter. It shan't take long."
Hopefully that would be correct. This particular business matter had a way of eating up his time and energy.
He found Nighthound kneeling in a jungle clearing, pinning his Epic pet to the ground with a hand on her stomach. The redheaded woman was in considerably worse shape than when he'd last seen her, with one of her ears torn and mangled. Nighthound was similarly missing a lower jaw, but it was regrowing within a cloud of dark mist.
Voidgaze sat a little way to the side, somehow having forced one of his saurian Warriors to lay its head in her lap. Her eyes looked astonishingly like what Lightwards had imagined CorpseMaker's gaze to look like, but she had somehow refrained from murdering the feral Nighthound.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Lightwards began, pointedly clearing his throat. "Voidgaze, I am preparing a trip into the city to meet with your superiors. You are welcome to accompany me to the meeting place, since you have yet to reunite with them."
His eyes locked on to the now fully healed Nighthound. The last thing he needed was for the insane Epic to wreak havoc at the meeting. It was bad enough that Funtimes would be attending.
"As for you... ah, perhaps we could find something to occupy you while I am away."
