See link below for map.

"I think we should all think it over together, eh?" the Black Cat replied. He looked at the door, smoothed the front of his shirt, danced a few shadowboxing steps from left to right and back again, rocked his head back and forth nervously, and expelled a whistling sigh through pursed lips. He looked at Nocturne and thought {Get a wall ready - we don't really know what's on the other side of that door,} as he stepped in front of it. He turned back to Aodh, and said with a wink "It's OK, I speak cat."

As it turned out, what answered the door was everything Hugh had feared, at least as far as the seduction of any Puritannical moral values the group still held. A felinoid creature had answered his knock, her (obviously a her, if the six mammary-like protrusions were any indication) body covered with silken fur in a lovely tortoise-shell pattern, amber and brown and black, adorned with amber-colored silken scarves clasped with jewelled pins and clasps. She was a little shorter than Kitsune, her pointed ears perched high on her head and perked toward the group attentively. Her dark golden eyes glittered, her glance stroking each member in turn, resting at last upon Black Cat with no little appreciation.

"Oh comment beau. Nouveaux amis," she purred, the French words sounding exquisite in her mouth despite the obvious fangs there. "Nous n'avons eu aucun nouvel ami depuis que les compagnons de Richard, et hélas, ils ne sont pas restés longtemps. Je suis Tyra," she added, stepping aside to allow them to enter. "Ma station est sécurité. Veuillez entrer et soyez présenté à votre nouveau capitaine." (OOC Translation: "Oh how lovely. New playmates. We haven't had new playmates in a very long time, not since Richard's companions and alas, they did not stay long. I am Tyra, my station is security. Please come in and meet your new captain." )

Aodh stepped back from the door at its opening, crossing both arms in front of his chest, letting the frame he usually concealed in his oversized clothes show for a change, burly and brawny. He kept his shoulders squared toward Tyra when she spoke, his eyes focused an inch above the top of her head, like looking past her for what surprises she had backing her up, and he came to a stop by Black Cat's side, opposite Kitsune.

The net effect of the large man's actions would emphasize the importance Aodh placed on Black Cat's rank and station to any observer. That might have been Aodh's hope, given he'd announced such not moments before knocking on the door.

Subtle social undertones, like that this made Aodh and Kitsune the bodyguards one had to get through to get to Black Cat, therefore Tyra's opposite numbers, likely the scientist hadn't anticipated. The really subtle point that placed Kitsune above him in the security hierarchy based on Aodh being the one knocking, he'd missed entirely. And his complete ignorance of the French language wasn't going to help him understand how Tyra sought to set the terms of the encounter in typical feline fashion.

"Formidable," Tyra murmured, eyes following Hugh's movements, the sense of wistful longing plain in the single French word. "J'espère que vous êtes aussi... résilient que vous semblez." (OOC translation: Formidable. I hope you are as resilient/durable as you seem.)

At least Aodh kept his mouth shut.

Kitsune stood there silently, not knowing a thing as to what the felinoid female said. It was interesting, she had to admit, and if she had a French-English dictionary she might have been able to puzzle it out, given a bit of time. Or Babelfish, which was what she used back home when looking at foreign language comics on the web. So the diminutive woman stood there in an alert pose, watching to see if there was any threat.

She had to admit that the desire to grab someone by whatever was convenient and shaking them like a British au pair held a certain attraction, but for now, it was time to be diplomatic. The stick would come later, on that she was definitely certain.

Blitz watched the cat woman carefully and, perhaps, a little lustily. Another French woman he thought to himself, rolling his eyes. He found the french accent rather alluring but that, together with her obvious nakedness, left him feeling a little disturbed. She was a humanoid cat! She had fur! It was, well, weird.

Not knowing what the cat woman was saying left Blitz even more confused. Something about a captain, friends, and something formidable maybe? He stepped back from the door and let the others, especially Black Cat, do the talking.

"My crew and I would be delighted to converse with your captain," the Black Cat began, in slightly accented but still fluent French. His hands provided punctuation as they always did. He was fascinated by the unusual creature before him - she was admittedly a sensual being, and undoubtedly feminine, but clearly not at all human. "Do your people speak English as well as French? My friends speak many languages, but not this one," he continued, resting his hands briefly to squeeze the strong shoulders of the man and woman who girded him. He was awestruck at their show of confidence, even if necessity dictated it as much as actual faith in his ability.

Tyra smiled, or at least, the corners of her sensual mouth lifted and curled in a way a human would have interpreted as a smile. "Le capitaine le parle, je pensent," she agreed, stepping aside for their passage. "Elle est fortement habile dans beaucoup de protocoles humains. Entrez, sil vous plais." (OOC translation: I think the captains speaks it, a little. She is highly skilled in many human protocols. Please come in.)

"Still, Lead on."

Kitsune smiled and blushed lightly at Neko-san's touch, but neither of them came through her helm and mask. At least some of my emotions remain hidden from the others... I hope, she thought privately, not sending that thought to the link.

Vincenzo shot a thought to Nocturne. {Intel, kid - what are we looking at? How many of them, any psychics in there, whatever you can tell us would be great. If you can tell what anyone is thinking without them knowing it, do it. We need data points, and fast.}

{All I can tell you is that we are still being watched}, Nocturne sent back. {I don't have the ability to tell if anyone else is a psychic. Unfortunately}, Dylan continued, {anyone will be able to tell right away if I start probing their mind. Most...uhm...living beings tend to resent that sort of intrustion.}

Tapestry continued his running narration in the background as he struggled to make the world make sense, or at least to enjoy a world that didn't. "If we're lucky, it's Cat People. More likely it's Sleepwalkers."

Tyra was noticeably purring as you all filed into the room.

As they began to enter, Blitz looked at Black Cat and Hugh. "Where are we going? What'zz going on?" he asked, still completely unware of what the catwoman had said. "What did zhe say? Who izz she? Why isn't she wearing any clothez?..." he continued muttering as he followed the rest inside.

The room within was again, large -- about 25 meters wide and deep, larger than Richard's drawing room by half again. Surprisingly, the room did not reek of cat musk though there were eight Fex present at that moment. What could be smelled by normal human noses was not unpleasant in the least. The room was loosely broken up into organizes spaces for sleeping (piles of furs and pillows), eating (a long table surrounded by divans that could seat at least two, three if they were Fex), play (that had to be a jungle-gym in the corner, though no playground on Earth ever sported one as nice), and socializing (human-style chairs, large for a single Fex but about right for a large human). The Fex present paused in their respective activities as the group entered, some lounging atop the play-station, others lounging over in the sleeping furs. Their sleek coats varied in color and pattern as widely as did those of housecats though most of them were not nearly as well-adorned as Tyra.

The remaining corner of the room was set up in a way difficult to detect from the door. The floor of that corner seemed sunken and was partially walled off with screens. It was to this corner Tyra led the group, her hips swaying in a way that made the absence of a tail regrettable. She pointed to the divan-like lounging chairs around the long table as they passed, the tips of her furred fingers caressing Black Cat's back, and then Hugh's, as gently as a lover.

"Si vous tout seriez assis, j'informerai le capitaine de votre présence." She licked her whiskers once, then disappeared between two of the screens. (OOC translation: If you would be seated, I shall inform the captain of your presence.) What could be glimpsed of the room beyond indeed appeared sunken like a small amphitheatre. Several of the other Fex, obviously curious, left their other pursuits to come closer, most remaining a polite distance away. One male who stepped too close to Blitz hissed and jumped back in surprise, his fur standing straight up from proxmity to the static charge. The others laughed, and after a moment's disgruntled preening (with hands, not tongue) so did surprised one, a husky male (lack of mammaries) whose fur was striped in shades of grey.

Sadly for Aodh, he did not fully appreciate Tyra's intention.

No more than a perfunctory nod was offered Tyra's direction by the scientist. He moved with the Black Cat, playing the role of supporter as the Black Cat's behavior seemed to dictate was expected. He even strove to be friendly, attempting a smile when the Fex 'smiled'.

The big Bostonian's attention was after all on the physics of the space, and his primary interest in this room, thought {We need to identify their engineers, technicians, mathematicians. The most advanced thinkers. And we have to hear everything they can tell us about the keys Richard mentioned. It helps that they think of themselves as part of his camp. Which I predict means they're violence-prone, confrontational and enjoy games and sports.} He was a regular Mr. Hard-to-get, toward the security chief, overlooking the obvious in his quest for answers.

The Black Cat walked into the room with his own version of feline grace, flanked by his sudden retinue. He spoke quietly to Kitsune and Aodh, saying "I'd like it if you would keep your feet and look like a security team, like you are doing. I'm going to sit and pretend I'm in control of something more than my nerves." He said to the whole group of his accidental companions. "She'd like us to take a seat, while she brings us the Captain. I hope it isn't the madman across the hall." Then he walked across the room, smiling a toothless smile as he took a seat in the center of one of the divan's around the long table. He looked at the cat-like people around him through half closed eyes, careful to take a longish blink if one made eye-contact with him. "Try not to squeak, gentlemen," he added, speaking over his shoulder, "or look like a small shiny object."

"Compared to the rest of you, Neko-san, I am a 'small, shiny object'," Kitsune noted softly. She stepped up to flank the Black Cat and spent time looking over their surroundings. She wasn't at all sure what she expected, but she watched for any hostile acts.

"However, if they want to try a little cat and mouse with me, they'll find out that this little Kitsune bites."

Tapestry reluctantly moved into the room with his companions, walking on multiple legs of silky cloth. He took a position near the door, his cape luffing lightly as if touched by an unknown breeze. He was on guard. He was in a room with big cats, and he was neither Sigfreid nor was he Roy. He thought the others were all coming unhinged, taking this so easily. Perhaps being a full time hero was a form of heedless insanity. Perhaps he should call his agent at his next opportunity.

Whilst waiting, Blitz turned to the one who had touched him and smiled. "Yeah, sorry about that", he said, speaking slowly and carefully, expecting that to make up for his lack of French. "Apologiezay" he added in a mock French accent.

Blitz pointed a crackling finger to his own chest and said to the catman, "Me - Blitz". He stared at the catman and repeated himself, this time a little louder and slower. "Blitzz. Yes? And you are...?" This time he pointed to the catman, trying to strike up a conversation.

"Not 'ard of 'earing," one of the other Fex said, his fur ginger and white. "'E does not speak ze langue... ze tongue. 'E is name is Fthiz, ze big grey one. I am Omeir. You are... ze new recruits, non?"

Blitz returned a smile.

"We're not..." Blitz started, but then there was movement from beyond the screens. Blitz turned around...

Just then Tyra reappeared from between the two screens and snarled a word in a language none of the humans knew. The Fex standing near the table straightened up in an unmistakable "attention" posture, which Tyra herself maintained as she stepped to one side. A moment later another female Fex entered with the easy, graceful bearing of a leader. Her fur was mostly black, with white at her hands, feet, and across her upper chest. She was a little taller than Tyra and more muscular, but shorter than the males and more lightly built. The new entry said another word in that language which caused Tyra and the nearby males to relax somewhat, then she turned her attention to the group.

"Well, you are obviously not from Fexao," she drawled, her English accented with French overtones and undertones of whatever their native language may have been. She half-sat on the table, arms crossed over her chest casually, glancing at the male Fex once. They abruptly found something else to do. "I am Capitaine Aorran, formally of the Imperial Starship Zhorrech. Which of you speaks the group?"

The professor's eyes slid toward Black Cat and Kitsune involuntarily at the captain's question, only for a moment.

Aodh's attention was diverted among the other features of the room, the inhabitants and their behavior, and complex mathematics of Game Theory in his head, likely, if his wooden posture and poker-faced expression were any indication. In stony silence, the scientist examined what he could of this crew of space-conquering cats. Aodh hadn't turned to inspect Blitz's attempt at kibbitzing, though through his peripheral vision he studied the Fex translator a moment, marking that one as a person of interest.

In any case, the Bostonian didn't appear to be giving clues about new conclusions, in a subtly back-generally-toward-the-nearest-wall sort of way.

"For the moment," the Black Cat said, quickly glancing around at his companions for their assent, and to reassure them that he really just meant for the moment, "It shall be me. I'm not sure I would call us recruits, but it would seem this castle has recruited us. I am called the Black Cat. We are here to set things as they should be," he said with a willful obtuseness. "May I inquire, Capitaine, how long have you and your crew been stationed here?" He didn't dare say marooned.

Tapestry added in a stage whispered thought {Remember what happened to Roy!} He did not add, "better you than me." There were more fangs in here than The Howling.

"How would you measure it?" Aorran asked. "The last ship's log date my predecessor made was on day 2563868.06, or sometime in Imperial year 6719. We've conducted 19,368 training sessions, fought 67 major skirmishes and perhaps three times that many minor ones with the shraorrchs. Our days are measured among times of sleeping, waking, eating, and training. Call it about 23000 `days', to the best of our ability to keep such records."

Aorran lifted herself from her half-perch to curl up on the divan next to Black Cat's, her huge golden eyes radiating curiosity. "So you believe you are here to `set things right,' you said? How odd. What do you suppose is wrong, mon ami, and where do you propose to start your repairs?"

Vincenzo considered his response. He was being watched, scrutinized by unknown but undoubtedly hostile forces, and what he said would be noted. "We shall start with Corwin," he replied as cavalierly as he could manage, staring into the golden coins the Capitaine regarded him from. "Once we have found him I believe we can all return to our previous missions." He did not currently believe such a thing in the least, and thought as much out loud to Nocturne. "What are Shraorrchs?"

{They're very smart. Sixty three years, they've no doubt come to regard this as a prison, and a home. They must have seen a dozen parties similar to ours, so we will be painfully naive-seeming to them,} thought Aodh.

{How many more decades .. centuries .. have the Ambers been locked in? Is this all who survived from an entire ship? A matriarchy.. interesting. Their morale is phenomenal, and their discipline beyond Spartan. Resigned to the realization of this life for so long, they may not believe escape possible, or even desireable. Best to ask them what _they_ want, I think? We will need to collaborate with them to survive, much less succeed. We may wish to offer gifts, if Tapestry is up to a challenge?} contemplated the scientist, keeping his less comprehensible calculations and abstractions to himself.

Kitsune smiled to herself thoughtfully, and sent those thoughts to Nocture to retransmit. {And here is another thought, Hugh-sensei. If the Fex have been here for some sixty years, and have mixed genders, then where are the children? Are they so long lived that they don't appear to age, or is it yet another property of this place?}

Stony-faced, still, the professor forgot to breath. That wouldn't hurt him in the least. Still, as the time ticked past, it might be noted. Or not. From time to time, he retuned his radio and radar perceptions, arms still crossed in front of him.

{What? Balls of yarn? Squeaky mice?} Tapestry thought back at Aodh. {I mean, I can do a lot with fabric, but I don't know what these cats want. Maybe I could turn their jungle gym over there into bigger kitty condos if we bring in the runner from the hall...} It was a nightmare. What gift could he give a herd of cats?

{they've been here 63 years?} Blitz communicated through their thought channel. {my god. and this is what they're left with? just a single room to call their own and endless battles with some enemy}

Blitz shook his head in disbelief. He looked upon the captain, at Tyra, at the one called Fthiz and the other called Omeir with a look of pity and sadness. They'd been trapped here for so long!

"Ah, Corwin," their new hostess agreed. "To set things right with Corwin, you'll need to face the shraorrchs and get the key they guard. We have tried to come up with new tactics to take them, but have lost so many of our ship's complement that it's no longer feasible. Have you one of Corwin's scrolls?"

At these words, the Fex in the room came closer to the group, feline curiosity obviously stirred. They still tended to give Blitz something of a wide berth, and didn't seem to know what to make of Kitsune in her armor, but all the group members found Fex approaching them, some few purring, offering fur-covered arms to clasp in greeting, most of them only able to speak French or Fexao.

Grinning watched the proceedings, fascinated by the beings before him. He monitored more than listened to the conversation, instead watching the felines for hints of their natural agility, sizing them up as it were in case he'd get a chance to try his prowess against theirs. After all, what use the enjoyment of the spar if you are not always on the lookout for new opportunities. A male sidled up to him, eyes on the staff with overt curiosity. He apparently did not speak English, but his pointing at the staff and then at his chest was clear enough: Could he try it out?

Grinning's ever present smile grew even broader. Here was someone that at least in some form appreciated the martial aspect of life at least a little; though frankly, Grinning thought, odds were that the Fex didn't appreciate it as much as he. Gladly, and with much curiosity over how much the cat like being understood such a tool, Grinning handed the staff over, watching to see what the alien would do with it.

With a flourish he took several steps back and began whirling the weapon in two hands, slowly at first and then with increasing speed, intricate patterns of over- and under-handed passes, catches, twirls, and throws. It took a mastery of the weapon to understand the depth and scope of the artistry the enthusiastic Fex demonstrated in those next few moments -- including a pass behind the back that was executed with such blinding speed it seemed the weapon almost teleported itself from one hand to the other, which was already moving into the flourished loops of the finale.

With a one handed toss that spun the staff up close to the ceiling high overhead, the Fex recaptured it and handed it back to its owner with a deep bow. He growl/purred something, some word or phrase -- it seemed polite enough; certainly the Fex was smiling as he arose.

Kitsune nodded to them, but her stance of watchfulness did not diminish. She did not wish to come across as rude, but this was potentially a dangerous location, and she didn't want to be taken by surprise. Not knowing French, she didn't see the need to contribute to the conversation yet. She'd no sooner completed that thought than a stream of strange characters, letters from many alphabets in fact, began streaming across the very bottom of the viewport of her helmet/visor. Right to left, left to right, finally settling on American English streaming in the proper direction, an apparent translation of everything she could hear, parsed out like a conversation in Instant Messaging.

Kitsune's eyes widened as she saw the translation scroll. Well, now, she thought to herself, and made it clear that this was to The Author as well, am I going to get any more toys to keep the audience interested, Otaku-san?

No answer -- but then, she didn't really expect one either. Now that would have been startling.

Kitsune tried to fight showing her emotions, but she found this to be very startling, to say the least. She watched her display to see what the Fex were saying to each other while continuing her stance. They seemed to be mostly concerned with the potentials and possibilities in the group of new arrivals and those musings ranged from work to play and back again.

"No. Where should we get one, and what would it tell us?" The Black Cat was trying to remain soft and casual, but the table and the subject made him think of business, and his attitude changed accordingly. "And what's a shraorcch? Your compliment of crew seems more than capable of handling most threats, what could have injured you? Could you describe one?"

"So many questions," Aaoran purred, managing to snuggle in closer without actually leaving her seat. "The scroll will contain your instructions on how to free Prince Corwin, of course. Jean-Louis seems to be their keeper, he dispenses them as new recruits come through. As for the shraorcch... I can do better than tell you. I can show you, on our viewscreen."

"Lead on. It would give me pleasure to walk behind you," the Back Cat said with a wink and the easy smile that had been his social lubricant since puberty. French, transliterated, is such a lurid language, the Black Cat thought to himself. He stood with a grace to rival any cat's, and offered his hand to the lady. He hoped this wasn't a gaffe, as they seemed matriarchal, and an appearance of an intent to dominate by a foreign male could be a problem. He kept his easy gaze steady on her large golden eyes, and waited. Purring, she placed her hand in his. Her fur was every bit as silken as it appeared to be, her placement light and though Black Cat may not have intended it, she clung to that hand after she arose, purring lightly.

"Walk, yes, for now," Aaorran agreed, her other hand coming to rest gently on his chest. "Perhaps later, we shall find something a bit more... ah, `challenging' for you back there."

With real sympathy, and admiration, the Bostonian unwound his arms from around his barrel of a chest, hands out, palms upward, reaching a hand with compassion toward the nearest of the Fex in response.

"We knew you would have faced losses, from what Richard told us when he sent us to you," Aodh said, his first words to the Fex, "and we will do what we can to ensure your comrades have not fallen in vain. What is it we can do for you?" he offered, in measured English toward the other Fex, the one who spoke the language to Blitz earlier.

"You've made so much progress shaping this area into a home suited to you. Have you had much difficulty working the material of this Space? So many years, you must have learned much of use, and we wish to listen to what you can tell us." The scientist loved to learn perhaps more than any other instinct, and these Fex knew things they all needed.

As if she'd been waiting for the big man to speak, Tyra left her post by the entrance to the screened off portion of the room and sidled over to Aodh, purring softly. "Dites-lui que nous avons stagné ici et ce qu'est nous avons ce que l'Ambers nous ont donné. Jusqu'ici, naturellement. Bien qu'il pourrait apprécier notre écran de vue, ne pensez-vous pas?"

The big grey nodded and said, "She say to tell you... how we stagnate here, since we arrive... we have only what d'Amberville have given us.... and she say you might enjoy seeing our ah, how you say, `viewscreen'."

{Clothes?} he considered. {Pillows? Sleeping mats? Or improving what they have. They might also appreciate weapons, I imagine.}

{Just as a word of precaution, they aren't necessarily our friends yet.} Kitsune warned through the link. {I'm not saying we should be aggressive or any such thing, but it would be wise to be cautious.}

A fex, a calico female, approached Tapestry with wide, sunflower golden eyes, and a feline smile that revealed two pearly white canine teeth on either side. Her half dozen breasts were smaller than the captains, Tapestry was uncomfortable to note, and clad in a length of silk cloth that might have been a sari, or might have been improvised modesty, made from found cloth in this luxurious prison. Tapestry tried to take a step back, and to get into a more combat ready position, although he did not wish to be directly threatening to the catwoman.

"Oh god. um... Bonjour. Je ... um ... Tapestry."

She laughed, a gentle, sensual sound, and said, "Votre nom est Ogawd?" (OOC translation: Your name is Ogawd?)

Kitsune involuntarily giggled at that.

He cursed his anxiety, and remembered that even if the audience was full of insane alien cat people, he was still an actor, and a pretty good one. He took a few breaths to steady himself and focus while the cat looked at his masked face with big golden eyes, wide black slits for pupils, and apparently voracious curiosity. He bowed his most courtly bow, after snapping his heels together. He flexed the thing inside him that could somehow affect cloth, and transformed his costume into a reasonable facsimile of one of the fex, only taller and clearly not a cat. For his right hand, he produced a large brimmed hat with a feather in it, which he doffed atop his head. His feet wore high slouchy boots. Puss in boots? Why not. Maybe she could dance. "I look like an extra on the Disney lot, but I mean well," he said to her, knowing he wouldn't be understood.

Eyes wide in startled delight, she nodded excitedly and began speaking in Fexao, clapping all the while. The words that came clear repeatedly were "Jean-Louis" and it seems a couple other Fex agreed with her. Then she removed one of her amber scarves and handed it to him, a pleading look in those gorgeous eyes. "La couleur... font... le bleu?" (OOC translation courtesy of Babelfish, in case you were wondering: Color... make it... blue?)

{What we've got here, is, failure to communicate,} Tapestry thought, doing his best Cool Hand Luke impression. "Me Tapestry" he enunciated with exasperated precision. "Tap-es-try."

He looked at her proffered scarf and thought, Bleh? Well, it isn't that impressive, I admit, but it is just a scarf. "Oh! Blue! Sure!" With a dramatic flourish, he turned the scarf a cerulean blue he thought might go well with the cat. {I'll be dipped, the big genius was right.}

She was obviously and immediately thrilled, sputtering her gratitude in Fexao and French, the mixture almost incomprehensible even to Kitsune's impromptu translators. It drew the attention of some of the others, who applauded enthusiastically and admired the lovely shade of blue somewhat enviously. And then they began offering other items to him -- some cloth, some leather or hide, some wood, some metal -- for similar requests, French words for color falling about him like a rainbow.

In fact, it was a lot like signing autographs....

Dylan looked around at the creatures that mingled in the room. He was glad, for the moment, that he couldn't speak French and that very very few spoke English. Playing the role of central broadcaster for the group had tired him, and he was afraid of what he would sound like to these creatures. Annah, he thought. I wish you could see this. I wonder what Zax would be doing if he was here.

Blitz stepped a little closer but not too close to the Fex so as not to alarm them. "May I also azzk" he began, speaking to the captain of the Fex, "do you know where thiz Jean Louie lives? Richard, the lion man, mentioned him and said he might be able to help uz. Have you met him?"

"But of course," Aaorran replied, tearing her gaze away from Black Cat's, but somewhat reluctantly. "I was surprised to surmise you had not. Your leader wishes to learn more about the shraorcch and so if those of you who would also like to see would step this way?" She then spat out a command in Fexao, one which summoned the Fex from about the room as well as four more who'd just entered, wide-eyed at the visitors to their little domain, amber-colored towels over their forearms.

Well, thought Blitz, smiling to the captain and the other Fex nearby, these cat-people all seem quite friendly. I'm not entirely sure what's going on but at least they're not attacking us.

Blitz nodded to the captain in agreement. So this Jean Louie person has scrolls to tell us how to free Corwin. We find JL, we get one step closer to getting out of this madhouse. And perhaps this viewscreen will help.

"Okay", said Blitz, "Let'zz see what thiz viewscreen showz uzz". He let Black Cat lead the way and followed on behind, ensuring he didn't get to close to anyone.

"Yes, thank you." Kitsune did that as a test, to see whether what she said would be understood by the felinoid, and if so, in what language would her words come out. Unfortunately, it sounded like regular English to her own ears -- and if the reactions of the Fex were any indication, it sounded like that to them, too.

Kitsune thought to herself, At least they aren't floating over my head like thought bubbles. Wouldn't that be horrible?

"Ecran de vue?" A glint in his eye, and after a hesitant pause to digest the latest information, a corner of his mouth turning slightly up toward a grin, the Bostonian answered, "Oh yes. The lady is quite correct in her surmise. The viewscreen, and what it reveals.. I pensez I will enjoy seeing that very much."

The scientist pointed to his chest with a thick thumb, "Aodh," he tells, "is my nom," as he fell into line to follow the captain. Tyra claims his huge arm somewhat possessively warning off other females with the kind of unspoken protocols only the Fex understood.

{Distressing. Six decades and a spacefaring species appear not to have made a dent in how to work the fabric of this Space. The remaining Ambers must be recruited therefore, and unless I miss my guess, the more of them we win over to cooperate with us, the faster we can shut that terrible gate, by an exponential factor. Still, they seem programmed to certain imperatives: Jean Louis to dispensing data, Isobelle to distributing material goods, the ghosts to transforming proximal representations into .. well.. Richard's transformation appears not to be complete or successful. Interesting. Interesting. Perhaps there's sabotage ongoing, as well as internal conflict and confusion? Or something Catherine left lying around? Did Catherine's backers foresee this result, and is it what they wanted? Why? Well, the viewscreen, the librarian and the scroll will indicate more clues, I hope.} the physicist considered.

Seeing that the crowd was headed off in a direction, Tapestry walked also, keeping a friendly proximity to his new friend. No different from some dinner theater I did in college, he thought to himself. She seemed quite happy to reclaim him from the crowd that had descended upon him, all still happily chattering over their new things.

OOC: Comedy relief aside, this ends Chapter 4. Feel free to insert whatever you like here but the party is moving toward the screened off area of the room, which I'll describe in the opening of chapter 5.

Again, most excellently well done, my friends.