Blarghy

Puigo didn't seem to hear them; he stared in awed confusion at the wasteland beyond the shuttle. What happened here? he wondered. And how am I a part of it? If this is a medical shuttle, was I rescued? But then what happened to the crew? I need to see those logs from the memory core. I need...I need to report. If the war isn't yet fully won, then I have to get back to the fighting. "I don't know how I came to be here," he said worriedly. The alien's expressions were difficult to judge, especially as his clear face-mask reflected the glow of the ice, but he clearly seemed dazed, even as he nimbly followed D-7. "I was...the last thing I remember, I was still in my own ship. Where is it? Where is the Audacity?"

"That just means they're smart," Leviathan grinned back. The interior of the submarine was scaly like the outside, but it had comfortable sponge padding on the seats--which were sized for Leviathan, meaning that Aquaria and Jessie would have to share the single rear chair. It was certainly big enough. Up front, they'd see a control panel made of some shiny black material, resembling insect shell. Leviathan waited until both passengers climbed inside before he followed them and shut the hatch. "Why did you go to space?" he asked. "Other than so Aquaria could get that fancy suit, of course."

Yet again, this wasn't what Leviathan expected. He craned his neck to see into the storage units and finally shrugged. "So, this is just your base of operations? I guess it's creative, but you couldn't just all pitch in for an apartment? ...Whatever, it doesn't matter. Now we've got evidence for the police, anyway. In case anyone didn't hear me earlier, you're all under arrest for various cyber crimes. I'm going out on a limb here and assuming that no one wants to fight back--or rather, feebly flail at me with your Cheeto-encrusted fingers. So, unless you've got some kind of secret weapon, kindly step out of your cubicles and wait for the cops to arrive." He looked from hacker to hacker for the one they met back at Club Mayhem; technically, Leviathan was probably supposed to hand the half-million dollars over to the police too, but if he could get away with taking it back, he'd rather do so.

I've been thinking about this myself. I'd love to have actual battle plans, if we can come up with any; at the very least, heroes who've worked together for years now should have a general idea of how their abilities and tactics work best together. Concerning Puigo, I talked a bit in his fluff about how he's trained to support his teammates. Those 3 ranks of Teamwork should be useful--and he'll also combine Acrobatic Bluff with Set-Up to feint for other characters. I see this working best with a strong Damage-shifted character, or anybody with Power Attack.

At this, Puigo relaxed. He still wasn't on familiar ground, and he had many questions, but at least their reaction was reasonable. "Correct," he nodded; his neck had to stretch up a bit to let his head bob. "I am Puigo, of the Praetorians. I serve under Daar Val-Ren, and if you can direct me to a stronger comm system, I will contact him." His malleable limbs coiled under him, and he bounced to his "feet." "Where, precisely, are we?" he repeated his earlier question.

Now he was truly confused. Puigo had just started to hope that these were fellow agents of the Empire who came to his rescue, when their odd reactions implied otherwise. If they didn't bring him to this shuttle, then how did he get here? And furthermore, the weapon at one of the creatures' side gave him pause. Without knowing who or what these things were, he'd rather not have them armed. Perhaps he would remedy that in a moment. Be patient. There are too many unknowns here; I must learn more. It is easier to escalate a situation than deescalate it, and for now, they seem relatively calm. First, Puigo decided to help his situation by allowing them to learn. "I do not teleport," he said flatly, and with that out of the way, laid down the strongest credentials he could imagine: "I am a law enforcement agent of the Delaztri Empire. I require immediate transport to the nearest garrison, or better yet, to Delaz Prime. Your time and fuel will be compensated; have no fear."

"Oh," Leviathan said, picking up on the tension in the air. These days he didn't just have to see discomfort with his eyes; he could smell it, which made his mistake hit home all the harder. He wondered if Sea Devil detected his embarrassment in turn. At the very least, it shown in the slump of his thin lips and enormous shoulders alike. "Sorry," he went on. "I'm happy to meet you, Singularity! Thanks for coming today, even with the cold." Aquaria's story--or more precisely, her unusual way of telling it--brought a genuine smile back to his face, and he chuckled. "Very tough, I see. I'd love to hear more about your adventures among the stars. You can tell me more about this rock monster on our way down to my lair, yes?" His submarine's strange, ribbon-like tails spun to propel it forward until its nose ran upon the beach, and he hopped out to assist his new friends.

Suffice to say, this was a confusing turn of events. Puigo swung his head back and forth, taking in his environment and trying to remember where he might be. His last memories were hazy, and as they started to slowly come into focus, they clashed with what he saw. What happened to the Audacity? What happened to the endless void of space in which he had spun uncontrollably? This shuttle and the uniforms of the people in it were unfamiliar, and yet, to see anything at all had to be a good sign. He chirped and croaked from a mouth that seemed weirdly unaccustomed to speech. When the translator in his uniform twisted his words around, Puigo was further concerned that the new language sounded different than any he had heard during his career--and it had been quite diverse already. "What has happened? he asked, and tried to sit up. "Where am I?"

I'm not sure what the DC for pepper spray is, but I assume it's Fortitude, and surely I can make it. Could this count as a circumstantial bonus to Intimidate? Fortitude: 1d20+17 33 Intimidate: 1d20+12 25 Plus the bonus, if you agree that one is appropriate.

Leviathan's eyes widened in confusion, then narrowed as he reached a suspicion. Could the rest of mAZ be...robots? And this is the only real member? Whatever's going on, it's getting weird, which is actually pretty cool! I thought this might be boring after we sprung the trap, but it looks like I was wrong. ...Let's see if I regret the excitement. He reached toward the mystery man, but rather than grabbing him, Leviathan instead picked up the pepper spray. He aimed it at his own face, opened his mouth, and shot it onto his tongue like a breath freshener. Hopefully that would make his point. "I'll be right back," he growled before turning away to investigate this new noise. "Don't go anywhere; I'm faster than I look."

Descriptor'd!

The ship and uniform would be Technology, and the rest are innate parts of his biology. ...I actually don't have the Innate feat for Speed or Strike, because I've never seen anybody bother with that before. Should I scrape together the points to buy it? Let me know and I'll try to be available for edits after work, if necessary. *Scurries off*

As it turned out, they only had to swim if they chose to. From the choppy waters of the bay rose a green, scaly shape that might at first worry the two heroines (or at least Jessie; Aquaria might mistake it for a long-lost uncle). It had the shape of a bulky monster, but upon floating closer, revealed itself to be a living submarine. The bubble-like hatch popped open, and up stood Leviathan. I hope this is a good idea, he thought with a tight smile, much as he had when he invited Bonfire to check out his hard work. Aquaria saw through my cover story very quickly last time; what could she notice after touring the entire lair? What if she somehow figures out who I really am, even just in a broad sense? I guess if I have to, I know some of her secrets too. ...No. Bad scientist. That's the wrong way of approaching the situation, and I need to stop. He shook his head slightly to chastise himself. Aquaria opened up to me, and that means something. She already knows I'm human anyway. She's a friend now, and I can trust her. "Hello there," he waved. "I thought I would come and pick you up instead of--holy crap, are you Wander?!"

The Strength bit is due to him being Small; he'd have a Strength of 6 normally if I didn't put those points into it, yeah? And related to it, I made his Strike Mighty because I thought it'd be cheap not to, since it's a physical melee attack. If you're ok with me changing that, then heck yeah, I'll take those points back! I thought that Additional Limbs could give a Grapple bonus, but then I checked the rulebook and didn't see anything about it, so I figured I was wrong. Is that a house rule? I certainly won't turn it down, if I can get that perk.

Alright. I'll try to learn more about the Praetorians and Space stuff in general as I play more of it, and if people have requests or ideas for Guidebook entries, then I'm happy to try to help! I just need to get more familiar with this aspect of the setting first, but that should happen on its own during play. It's easier to get immersed directly, rather than binging in the Archives.

That makes sense. I assumed that most of the time, my fighter ship would be aboard the Devotion, which is why I listed that as Puigo's base of operations. Do either or both ships usually stay at the station, or is the Devotion, at least, often on patrol?

As noted in the character I just submitted (pending approval), I'm giving 7PP to these communal things. Furthermore, I was thinking it could be fun to write a Guidebook entry on the ships. One thing I really liked about Rogue Trader (a spin-off of Warhammer 40K) was that the ships were huge, detailed, and could essentially be characters in and of themselves. If we want to put more detail into the two Praetorian vessels, maybe come up with a few NPC staffers (the Personnel feature could be good; I assume that the Praetorians aren't the only people on board), figure out what they look like and what kind of neat personal details each one has, and so on, then I'd be willing to write it up. What does everybody think?

Player Name: Blarghy Character Name: Pugio Power Level: 10/12 (183PP) Trade-Offs: +5 Attack / -5 Damage (Strike), +5 Defense / -5 Toughness Unspent Power Points: 3 In Brief: Ancient Praetorian resurrected by the Lor Residence: CoVic Station Base of Operations: The Devotion Alternate Identity: Chyrxax Sigga Identity: Public Birthplace: Jolem's Third Moon Occupation: Praetorian Spaceship Pilot Affiliations: Praetorians Family: Long Dead Description: Age: 24 (DOB over 2,000 Years Ago) Apparent Age: 40s Gender: Male Species: Jol Height: 3' 7" Weight: 58 lbs. Eyes: Pink Hair: None The simplest description for Puigo is probably "were-octopus." He's a little ball of whipping limbs and a tail (the two being hard to distinguish without seeing which way his head is facing) dressed in a sky blue mesh uniform with white trim, full of ancient technology courtesy of the now-defunct Delaztri. From behind, Puigo seems to have no head at all thanks to how he instinctively tucks it between his "shoulders," such as they are, unless he cranes his neck for a better view. Said neck and all other appendages can stretch to several times their normal length; his skin is incredibly wrinkly by default to accommodate this, though his bodysuit usually hides that. Instead of fingers, Puigo has three tentacle-like branches at the end of each "arm." His flesh is pale green and his big eyes are solid, featureless pink, beginning to cloud with age; they sit above a pointed snout, which is in turn above his small, round mouth, full of needle-teeth. The Jols were never a long-lived people even after the Delaztri uplifted them to full sentience, and prior to his death and resurrection, Puigo was about halfway through his natural lifespan. Power Descriptions: Jols' limbs are made up of hundreds of specialized joints that can partially dislocate without harm or loss of function. They also possess natural agility and motor control, which made them effective hunters in their original environment. Puigo is no exception. Even before his training and neural enhancements from the Delaztri, he was incredibly flexible and nimble; now, he can move in ways that seem to defy momentum. He's physically weaker than most enemies thanks to his size, but that doesn't stop him from whipping his limbs sharply enough to crack bones, and he's a very capable grappler. Just as dear to Puigo as those appendages is his small, personal ship, The Audacity, so named because of his penchant for dueling far larger or more numerous vessels. It is a sleek, smooth craft shaped like an arrow head with the same color scheme as his uniform (sky blue with white trim). Twin cannons at the front shoot stunning electrical blasts, while along its keel is a devastating plasma lance for cutting apart other ships. History: Before the Delaztri found them, the Jols were predators on a small moon. They glided through the mist in its low gravity, between thin, spiky trees, eating creatures similar to bugs and birds. A dim intellect had begun to flicker among them by the time the Empire put a flag in their chalky soil, which piqued the Delaztri's interest. The Empire had uplifted other species before this one, and in addition to simply doing it again because they could, some Delaztri also saw potential in these strange aliens' rare dexterity. It made them excellent pilots, particularly in small fighter crafts, thanks to the Jols' hunting instincts. Squadrons of them were soon protecting interstellar trading caravans or tracking down pirates, not to mention their military capabilities. The Delaztri had a firm grip on them from the start; these vassals were grateful for how their world vastly expanded, and they served willingly and well. Again, Puigo was no exception--though he soon proved exceptional. A few Jols were inducted into the Praetorians before him, with positive results, and the Empire began a program of selecting the best among them for further training. At the end, the chosen Jol was enhanced with select mutations to become even faster and more agile, along with close combat training. The champion of his generation, the last Jol Praetorian, was born Chyrxax Sigga and renamed after a small Delaztri blade, a word with no direct English equivalent. Thousands of years later, when he came gasping back to life, his universal translator would detect the romanization of his team's name and interpret his title appropriately: Puigo, for the Roman dagger. But that is now, and this was then. He and his clan overflowed with pride from the honor, the highest calling their species could imagine. For about a decade and a half, he dashed across the stars to protect the Empire's citizens and ruin their enemies. Puigo fought alongside the champions of his age; in particular, he respected Daar Val-Ren and learned how to augment such a stronger warrior's capabilities with his own. Such was Puigo's joy that he wasn't saddened when retirement loomed a few years ahead. He accepted that age would begin to slow him, and instead of rejecting the inevitable, he looked forward to settling down with his family. The second half of his life was supposed to shine with glory reflected from the first half; he would dazzle his children with stories, enjoy celebrity status, and perhaps even help train the next generation of pilots, if the Delaztri wished it. Then the Communion came. You've already heard that story. Puigo had a fair role in it; he flew The Audacity in each of those titanic battles that shook the Empire to its foundation, watching friends die and doing his best to take down as many Drones as he could before he met the same fate. And he did, in the final engagement that at last pushed the Communion back, at such a great cost. Laser fire cut through The Audacity's thrusters and sent it spiraling into space during the chaos, like so many other Empire vessels. Power began to fail; communication systems quickly went fuzzy, then flickered out entirely. Puigo knew that life support wasn't far behind. Even once his companions won the battle, he'd be presumed dead, and if he wasn't, finding him in the vast emptiness of space would prove a nigh-impossible task without a working beacon. And yet, Puigo took solace in the likelihood that his allies were winning as last he saw. If his death helped preserve the Empire, then he'd hardly complain; that was a possibility from the start of his career anyway. He had time to make peace with his fate and record a few messages in case his ship was ever discovered, which was more than most soldiers got. He used The Audacity's dying energy for a mission report, then a tight-throated farewell to his wife, some words of wisdom for his children, and finally a brief but heartfelt gratitude to the Praetorians, to express his pride in serving alongside them. "I gladly give my life for the Empire that gave such a fantastic life to me," he said in the end. Puigo's oxygen ran out years before The Audacity crashed onto an uninhabited planet. Its tough frame had no trouble with the atmosphere, and even held up reasonably well upon impact. As Puigo had hoped, there was plenty to recover as soon as somebody managed to find it. He just didn't imagine who that would eventually be. Personality & Motivation: Fearless and duty-driven, Puigo's loyalty remains to the Praetorians even now that their original purpose is long gone. He misses the old universe terribly; this new one is often strange, and he searches for the kind of larger purpose that once fulfilled him. The Coalition provides some of this, but it isn't the same, at least not yet. And of course, being the last of his kind, deprived of almost all his loved ones, save for the remaining original Praetorians, is a difficult burden to bear. Powers & Tactics: In the sky, Puigo and The Audacity are nightmarish to their enemies. They zip along at impossible speeds, even nimbler than the pilot is on his many limbs. When outside of his beloved ship, Puigo remains a skilled martial artist; he snaps his arms like whips to apply quite impressive force despite his size. Normal opponents have plenty to fear, but in this line of work, "normal" is pretty rare. Against tougher foes, Puigo is accustomed to acting indirectly and relying on his stronger friends. He's fully comfortable with the fact that most Praetorians pack a much harder punch than he does; he is trained to assist them by creating openings or throwing their enemies off-guard. Puigo's physiology makes him a very effective grappler too, when appropriate. Complications: Crushing Weight: The Jols evolved in a low gravity environment, to the point that they could jump and glide like flying squirrels. Puigo's uniform compensates for this, even allowing him to fly, but if deprived of it, most planets will become very uncomfortable. GMs could lower his speed, penalize his rolls, and so on. Last of His Kind: Like several of his comrades, Puigo is the last living member of his species. This weighs on him heavily, and furthermore, he might pursue any hints of remaining modern Jols, or the Delaztri Empire, with reckless intensity. Legendary: The Praetorians might be generally well-received by the Coalition, but other galactic groups could remember them differently. The old Empire wasn't always nice to its neighbors. Prized Possession: Puigo values his ship almost as much as his fellow Praetorians. When piloting it, he's still utterly fearless, but that's only because he assumes that being shot down would mean that he'd die with it (as he has once before). If The Audacity is threatened separately from himself, he won't react well. What the Hell Is THAT?!: For anyone accustomed to relatively familiar, humanoid aliens, a Jol looks quite bizarre. Especially when Puigo comes rolling fluidly at someone, squawking and chirping in his native tongue, he's a scary sight. What's It Saying?: The only languages Puigo speaks have been dead for thousands of years. The other ancient Praetorians can probably understand him, but otherwise, if deprived of his uniform's translator, he'll have a hell of a time communicating. You're the Boss: It's true that Puigo would follow his Imperatrix to the ends of the universe, but he still can't help but compare Paradigm to her older brother--and he's keenly aware that she's one of his last connections to the Delaztri empire. Her bold, even reckless, style makes him nervous despite how tough she is. If Paradigm proposed a tactic that would endanger herself or the other original Praetorians, even to save innocent lives, Puigo might be tempted to sabotage it, consequences to the Coalition be damned. Abilities: 0 + 20 + 6 + 4 + 8 + 0 = 38PP Strength: 6 (-2) Dexterity: 30 (+10) Constitution: 18 (+4) Intelligence: 14 (+2) Wisdom: 18 (+4) Charisma: 10 (+0) Combat: 12 + 12 = 24PP Initiative: +10 Attack: +15 Strike (+6 Base, +8 Attack Focus [Melee], +1 Size) Grapple: +23/+26 (+15 Attack, -4 Size, +10 Dexterity, + 2 Elongation, / +3 Additional Limbs (Unless using Improved Grapple feat)) Defense: +15 (+6 Base, +8 Dodge Focus, +1 Size), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: +2 Saving Throws: 3 + 3 + 3 = 9PP Toughness: +5 (+4 Con, +2 Defensive Roll, -1 Size) Fortitude: +7 (+4 Con, +3) Reflex: +13 (+10 Dex, +3) Will: +7 (+4 Wis, +3) Skills: 76R = 19PP Acrobatics 17 (+27) Craft (Mechanical) 3 (+5) Drive 5 (+15) Escape Artist 8 (+20) Knowledge (Galactic Lore) 2 (+4) Language (Delaztri, Jolian [Native]) 1 Medicine 1 (+5) Notice 6 (+10) Pilot 17 (+27) Sense Motive 6 (+10) Sleight of Hand 5 (+15) Stealth 5 (+15) Feats: 57PP Acrobatic Bluff Ambidexterity Attack Focus (Melee) 8 Defensive Roll Dodge Focus 8 Elusive Target Environmental Adaptation (Low Gravity, Zero Gravity) 2 Equipment 7 (Bronze Reward, Communal Praetorian Pool) Equipment 21 Evasion 2 Fearless Grappling Finesse Improved Grab (FREE, Additional Limbs, unless using all for Grapple Bonus) Improved Pin Luck 2 Move-By Action Set-Up Skill Challenge (Simultaneous Task: Vehicle Combat) 2 Teamwork 3 Equipment: 105EP = 21PP The Audacity (105EP) Size: Large (-1 Attack/Defense) [1] Strength: 20 [0] Toughness: 10 [3] Features: 7EP Alarm 2 (DC30) Navigation System 4 (+20) Remote Control (Connected to Uniform) Powers: 31 + 8 + 2 + 24 + 10 + 2 + 1 + 16 = 94EP [All Technology] Blast 9 (Extra: Autofire; PFs: Accurate 3, Alternate Power) [31] [Electricity] AP: Blast 15 [30] [Fire/Plasma] Communication 8 (Radio, 2,000 Miles) [8] Concealment 1 (Radar) [2] Flight 12 (50,000 MPH) [24] Impervious Toughness 10 (Force Field) [10] Super-Movement 1 (Interplanetary) [2] Super-Senses 1 (Communication Link [Praetorian headquarters]) [1] Sensor Suite 3.2 (16PP container) [16] Super-Senses 8 (Radar [Accurate, Radius, Ranged Radio Sense], Analytical, Extended 3 [x10,000 increment]) {8/16} Super-Senses 8 (Visual, Analytical (all visual), Extended 2 (all visual) [x1,000 increment], Infravision, Ultravision) {8/16} Powers: 4 + 13 + 3 + 5 + 1 + 5 = 31PP Additional Limbs 3 (4 Limbs and Tail; PF: Innate) [4] [Alien Biology] Device 3 (15PP Uniform; Hard to Lose; PF: Restricted [Jols]) [13] [Technology] Comprehend 2 (Speak and Understand all Languages) {4} Immunity 9 (Life Support) {9} Flight 1 (10 MPH) {2} Elongation 2 (20 Ft. Range Increments; PF: Innate) [3] [Alien Biology] Shrinking 4 (Small; Permanent; PF: Innate) [5] [Alien Biology] Speed 1 (10 MPH, 100 Ft./Move Action) [1] [Alien Biology] Strike 5 (Natural Weaponry) [5] [Alien Biology, Bludgeon] Drawbacks: -0PP DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Strike Touch DC20 Toughness Physical Blasters [Ship] Ranged DC24 Toughness Energy Plasma Lance [Ship] Ranged DC30 Toughness Energy Totals: Abilities (40) + Combat (24) + Saving Throws (9) + Skills (19) + Feats (57) + Powers (31) - Drawbacks (0) = 180/183 Power Points

Leviathan 12 Beloved Monster 4 Freedom of Information 5 Good Company and Good Cheer 3 GM 1 X 2 = 2 The Doctor Is OUT 1 GM post to Adept and Guide point to Leviathan.

Once I stop being lazy and find the energy and time to make my Praetorian character, I still plan to devote the rest of my Bronze reward (7PP left, I think) to these communal team belongings. Sorry it's taking me so long, but like a lot of people, I've just had trouble staying motivated lately. What's with the Enhanced Attack on the ships, though? Defense, I understand, because vehicles use their own Defense and Toughness, but I thought that whichever character was attacking would use their own Attack bonus, right? So, wouldn't a PL10 character with a +10 ranged bonus or more, using these 10-rank weapons, go over caps? How's that work? I've never actually tried vehicular combat (although I want to, which is why I plan to make a pilot character), so I may be wrong here.

Perhaps Grimalkin had made another science friend. Perceptive as she was, she might see the shrewd thoughts behind Leviathan's eyes; he no longer just listened to her voice and marveled at her attention, but studied what she actually said. The way he gently and unconsciously rubbed his fingertips along the arm of the chair and made a "Hrrrrmmm..." of consideration seemed more like an old scholar than a brutish bruiser. He took a long drink of his cider and sat down the empty pitcher beside them. "Well, however it works, it's amazing," Leviathan beamed at Grim. "I've never seen, ahh, glamour before. It's a great skill! I just break things, but you can build, and that's very cool. Can you make big, complicated things? Like how Dr. Metropolis repairs widespread damage to the city? You seem like the organic to his industrial--only more fun at parties," the lizard added with a smile.

These heartfelt admissions made Leviathan turn his eyes down for a moment. Then, he moved closer to the fire, closer to Aquaria, and sat down within her reach. "Maybe we can change," he disagreed. "Humans and Deep Ones alike. I won't call it easy or simple, but don't just give up hope. I saw proof today that your people aren't all bad. You're proof of that too. Surfacers can be cruel and violent just like Deep Ones, but we've been improving for a long, long time now. It's just slow. We still keep moving forward as a species because good people see things they don't like about the world and work hard to make it better." He smiled, only partly forced, and sighed lightly. "I wish I had a way to help Freedom City accept you more quickly, and I can't even promise that they ever will. But, the good things you do will help make it possible for your grandchild and all the ones who come after him. Until then, the people you help will start to change their own minds. They'll remember you. I'll remember you."

He slowly sat the car down with a frown. Leviathan crept--a laughable concept, given his size--quietly as he could across the storage facility. His own heartbeat made it hard for him to judge his footsteps, between his exhilaration and, now, confusion and frustration. Whereas a moment earlier he was ready to tear this place apart if necessary and sort it all out with lots of money afterward, now he had doubts. Something's not right. They can't all be hiding in there; where did the rest go? Unless...what if mAZ is just one person? A duplicator could've been fooling us this whole time. Or, I might be about to open a trap. The hackers had to have a reason to come here in the first place. What was it? But if this was a trap, better to spring it himself and take most of the harm rather than wait and let Bonfire get caught too. Leviathan's misgivings kept him on his toes; he grabbed hold of the large container and tried to rip it open in one quick motion. "Knock, knock!"

Full of energy and excitement, Leviathan battered his way in and got through most of his action hero speech before his eyes caught up to him. "Alright, everyone's under arrest! Surrender or face me! You can go to jail, or to a hospital and then jail, so make your cho--" He paused, stared at the empty-of-hackers room, and came to a slow stop. His head whipped back and forth in confusion. "...Wh...ho...I mean...?" Quickly, though without his previous confidence, Leviathan jogged to the car that mAZ had used. The huge reptile lifted it up with one hand like he was looking for his keys underneath the couch. "Where the hell did they go?!"

"Wowwww," Leviathan gaped at this new trick. He assumed that Grim's business card was just up her sleeve, but she definitely wasn't hiding that chair somewhere out of sight. Before sitting down, he prodded it a bit, looked at the furniture from different angles, and even sniffed to see if this magical conjuration had the faint scent of real wood or varnish. Finally, he carefully slid onto the seat next to Grimalkin. "I didn't know you could do something like this! What can you make? How long does it last?" Can I take it home? he added in his head. Once he had the thought, Leviathan almost asked aloud, but stopped for fear of being rude. Assuming he could fit this chair into his submarine and get it back to his lair undamaged, that would be a nice trophy!