It's only a few minutes after the attacker has been subdued before several heavily-armored Silent-One's exit the building and aim some really nasty looking guns at Envoy. "You have much explaining to do," one of them signs and gestures for her to follow. And so in she goes! The room she's taken to is all too familiar at this point, it's almost starting to seem like getting a scolding from a parent!

Consulate Office
The main office for the Silent-One consulate is a huge high-ceilinged room; the entire top floor of the building. Pillars carved in the shapes of Silent-Ones in full armor reach upward as if holding the ceiling above up with their might. A black granite floor is polished to perfection beneath their feet. And at the far end of the room sits an ornate desk surrounded by plush-looking chairs.

"Envoy, why is it that wherever you seem to go, you leave a path of destruction in your wake?" Born-In-War signs from behind his desk. He actually has his mask off for a change. With the way his brow furrows, it looks like he probably has a really bad headache. "Why is there a huge hole in my building?"

"I.. I can fix that, probably," Envoy offers. "It's just that a rather dangerous old man seems to have a vendetta against me. I admit that being attacked whenever I come to town is very annoying."

"You? Fix that? How?" The Silent-One signs. "It is fortunate I like you. In many circumstances you would have been shot for the frustration. And why does this old man have an issue with you? did you blow a hole in his building?"

"I didn't do anything to him," Envoy notes. "He seems to believe I have stolen his technology because I have claimed his former base, and happen to possess some superficial similarity to his experiments many decades ago. As for fixing things.. well, I am an Earth Mage. That means I can do pretty much whatever I want with concrete - you've seen that I can build things."

"You are certain you have done nothing to him?" Born-In-War signs, "You are not the most observant when it comes to others; that much I have learned about you." He leans back in his chair and taps his claw tips on his desktop. "How long would repairs take? And what is the risk of causing further damage?" he signs after a minute of silent thinking.

"Perhaps a few hours, depending on any non-structural repairs that are needed, such as wiring and plumbing," Envoy notes. "And my first encounter with Dr. Von Bronson was the one you rescued me from. He is clearly insane."

"He keeps attacking me, when a rational opponent would have stopped after the first encounter and avoided contact as much as possible," Envoy claims. "It is almost as if he wants to make me mad enough to attack him back. He is clearly nearing death, and may want to be killed by someone powerful enough to satisfy his ego."

Born-In-War taps his fingertips together. "And how have his attacks motivated you? What do you plan to do next?" he asks.

"He has betrayed a weakness in his technology," Envoy points out. "I think I may be able to exploit that as a means of tracking him down. He is guilty of many crimes.. you saw his victims just from one of his projects. I may have no choice but to carry out justice."

"Are you certain he betrayed a weakness, or merely placed a lure in front of you?" Born-In-War signs, brow arching slightly. "It may be a trap. Placing a false weakness before an enemy is a tried and true tactic."

"I don't think he could have anticipated that his copy-cat crystals were susceptible to magic," Envoy points out. "Magic has only existed here on Abaddon for less than half a year. His technology is no more advanced in its physical principles than your own: semiconductor electronics and electromagnetic communications."

"Perhaps. Never be so complete in your opinions. It limits your ability to react in the field," Born-In-War signs, "As if you get killed ... I will not quite be sure what to do. Silver-Mane will be hurt ... and I, well ... I do not show the emotion I think he would need. But, since you lack spots and are not of the people I cannot command you to listen. All I can do is try to keep you alive. If you can repair the building, I will consider the matter dropped. If there will be anything further you would require, ask it now."

"Thank you, Born-in-War," Envoy says, bowing her head.. and then looking back up a bit timidly. "There is one more thing," she admits. "I'll need to study the body of the attacker someplace safe, and was wondering if I could borrow one of your transport vehicles? Icarus and I could transport it ourselves, but that might seem a bit disturbing to onlookers... even after the show they just saw."

"I will escort you to whatever destination you desire, in full armor regalia. It may motivate others to not bother you for the duration of the trip," the Silent-One signs. "The next person to make an attempt on his life will be introduced to the functional end of a rail cannon."

"A study of the body of the attacker will tell us much, I hope, about Von Bronson's ability to press his attacks," Envoy says, and stands up. "With your leave, I will see about repairing your wall and the street outside."

"One more condition," Born-In-War signs as Envoy stands. "You will report to Rising-Star to be fitted for a mask at your convenience. You spend enough time here that you need proper attire."

"A mask?" Envoy asks, blinking three times. "Very well then, but will that make me an honorary Silent One, or is it just so that I don't appear to be running around naked while visiting?"

"You would require further modification to be considered honorary. It is, as you say, so that you do not appear naked," Born-In-War confirms.

Bowing again, Envoy says, "As you wish, Born-In-War." She then heads for the door, wondering how much energy reserve she still has available.. and how many pizzas it will take to replenish what she's burned already!

Thanks to the lack of complicated elements in the outer wall of the interrogation room, Envoy was able to collect most of the original material and restore it. She was tempted to add a statue of Born-In-War to it.. but decided to go with the original look instead after deciding not to push her luck. She also considered simply making her own face mask, but realized it would be better to have is be a gift. So she went off to see Rising-Star. Icarus went through it, after all.

Rising-Star was easy enough to find after finding a Silent-One that would actually sign with her. Second floor, third room on the right. The trip there is quick. It turns out that it's an artist's studio! The young Silent-One is inside painting. Oil on canvas, even. Maybe they've adopted some human practices, or maybe they developed the same techniques. Anyway, she's just inside, her back to the door.

Clearing her throat, Envoy tries to get the girl's attention. She's actually impressed to find her engaged in such artistic activity so soon after a battle tore out part of her home.

Or maybe she wanted to capture the event because when she turns, Envoy can tell she's painting the battle scene! Her ears wiggle and she tucks the brush between her teeth. "If it isn't the conquering hero," she signs, looking terribly amused. "Come to see my work?"

"Actually, your father would like you to fit me for a mask," Envoy says, stepping forward to get a better look at the painting. "My bare face seems to vex him. I did not know you were an artist."

Rising-Star spreads her hands and shrugs. "I am a dancer. Painting is not so different," she points out in sign. "And a mask? Interesting. Are you sure he did not say a muzzle?" She grins impishly and her ears wiggle.

Envoy's eyes widen at the joke. "Is my voice so grating then?" she asks with a smirk. "I can refrain from speaking aloud in his presence, if that is a concern. But mainly he wished for me to observe proper decorum and not be 'naked' all the time."

"Well ... do you have any particular wishes in the style, or are you going to leave it up to me to design?" Rising-Star signs, then waves for Envoy to come into the small studio. There's not much in there, save for plain-looking cabinets and a couple chairs.

After finding the chair that seems most accommodating for her wings, Envoy says, "I am not familiar with the styling practices for Silent Ones masks. Do they function similarly to coats of arms? Otherwise, I will leave the decoration up to you. It is not as if anybody will be confused as to my identity."

Rising-Star goes and rummages around in one of the cabinets. She returns with a 'toolbox' in one hand and signs with her left, "Often they will have family markers, along with a name in proper glyph. But ... as you say, yours need not be that formal, especially since you are not of the People. And you are not claustrophobic, are you?"

"Not that I am aware of," Envoy replies. "Are you going to make a life-mask then?" she asks, eyeing the box.

"Close," Rising-Star signs, "Close your eyes and just relax." She sets the box in Envoy's lap and pops the top. Inside are several containers of ... well, it looks like some sort of goo, really. In several different, all garish, colors. There's also what looks like a purple-bulb tube-flashlight.

Some sort of light-setting medical mold? Envoy wonders to herself, before closing her eyes and relaxing. Well.. she doesn't actually do anything to exhibit relaxing, but she's not tense.

A minute passes and Envoy can now feel something cold and really thick oozing down over her forehead, around her horn, over her eyes, then down her muzzle. It feels like some sort of slime, to be honest. There's light pressure on it, perhaps some sort of tool used to shape it. It doesn't feel very heavy ... so it can't be very thick, whatever it is.

Envoy's original notion - that this is just for making a mold of her face - is replaced by the possibility that it will be the actual mask.

Envoy can see a light through her eyelids ... and the goo starts to feel decidedly less slimy and getting harder by the second. The light is flicked off and another couple minutes pass. The next thing she feels is heat. Something else is being poured onto her face and through the initial covering Envoy can tell it is hot. It's not painful ... but it is very noticeable.

Some sort of releasing agent? Envoy maintains her stillness, and hopes there won't be any strange reactions between the odd substances and her skin or fur.

Another few minutes pass and a gentle tugging begins on her head. She can feel the covering come away without any hair pull, somehow. It takes a bit of time for the Silent-One to navigate it off Envoy's horn due to its strange curvature, but she manages it. There's a pat on Envoy's shoulder once the covering has been completely removed. Probably to indicate it's okay to open her eyes.

Envoy blinks several times.. and of course reaches up to touch her face and make sure there isn't anything still stuck to it.

Her face feels fine, no residue! Rising-Star is standing nearby holding a very crude-looking 'mask' of a sort. It becomes apparent that the heat was, uh, some sort of molten metal because the outer shell is metal. So the first layer was likely an insulator to keep her from getting burned!

"One of our own, engineered for this purpose," is all Rising-Star is willing to sign. "It will take some time to use a cutting and burring tool to do all the finishing work. A day or so, if I find style inspiration quickly."

"Only if you think they would be appropriate," Envoy replies, standing from her seat. "Are you self-taught in art?"

"No, I had formal training," Rising-Star signs before she puts away her supplies, then carries the case back to the cabinet. "If you really wish to look more like us, it would be possible to alter your coloration with dye-work," she suggests with her free hand. The crude mask is still in the other.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Envoy says. "There seems little point when every other feature I have is at odds," she notes as she ruffles her wings.

"Those could be removed mostly painlessly," Rising-Star offers. Hard to tell if she is being serious or not.

"Oh? Would you like a pair of wings of your own, Rising-Star?" Envoy retorts with a grin.

"They would allow me to catch someone," Rising-Star signs, then waves her hand dismissively. Her ears wiggle.

One golden eyebrow arches up on Envoy's forehead. "Who are you trying to catch then?" she asks with a grin.

"That would be telling," the Silent-One signs. She sits down in one of the other chairs and peers at the crude mask that is now carefully balanced in her left hand. She makes an odd chittering rumble as she apparently thinks.

"Of course it would," Envoy notes, and lets the topic drop. She's hardly the best person to be discussing boys with a teenager, after all. "I am going to find Icarus and my other companions then, and see about getting something substantial to eat."

"You cannot eat them. Cannibalism is frowned upon," Rising-Star offers helpfully. She apparently has a very odd sense of humor. "They're probably in the visitor lounge."

"Thank you, Rising-Star," Envoy says with a bow. "Please don't let my mask detract from your painting. I'm very curious to see the finished version."

"Oh? what will you offer to see it?" Rising-Star asks, looking up from the mask.

"Constructive criticism perhaps," Envoy notes, before asking, "Unless you'd rather have something specific?"

Cocking her head, Envoy considers this. Feathers are often used in art, after all. "I can only offer my own, of course," she points out.

"Very well then," Envoy agrees. "When you are ready to show your painting, you may have some of my feathers."

"I won't even ask to pluck them," the Silent-One promises, then waves her hand in a shooting motion.

With another bow, Envoy leaves the room and heads for the visitor lounge. It's been awhile since she's been dismissed via shooing motions, which causes her to smile.

Visitor's lounge is easy to find! First floor of the building, past the heavily-armored and scary-looking Silent-Ones. Icarus and Walter are sitting across from each other. "Go ... fish?" he asks Walter haltingly as he clutches a small hand of cards in his own hands. "Is that right? It was fish?" he confirms. Violette is sitting upside-down in a chair nearby and lightly snoring with her tongue hanging out of her mouth.

"Right. Fish," Walter confirms, "It's based on a sport where you put dead things on a metal hook and ... oh, hi, Envoy. They didn't arrest you!" He sounds surprised.

"Work-release program," Envoy claims. "I had to fix the wall. Is everyone alright? Nothing sprained or overused?"

"Feeling fine. Daedalus insisted that I have a complete physical after everything. She was surprised I didn't show any signs of cellular damage, as she put it," Icarus says as she sets his cards down. "She's doing one last check in one of the labs just to be sure."

"How about your appetite?" Envoy asks, sitting down at the table with the pair. "You must have used a lot of energy fending off the attacks."

"A good thing, really," Thorndike complains, "I still find the tails of the lizardfolk, ah ... I've been stranded with them too long."

"I was hungry, but they gave me a few cookies and something called a donut. It helped," Icarus claims. "What about you?"

"I used up quite a bit of energy," Envoy admits. "I should try to replenish it before too long. I wonder if there is a sort of pizza that has a steak between two pizzas to make a steak-pizza sandwich?"

"Well, you could probably ask for some food here," Icarus suggests, "Or get it to go. Maybe? Are we walking somewhere, or riding?"

"Born-In-War will be taking us to Camp Caroban, where I need to consult with some other mages, such as Violette's mentor, regarding the enemy we just fought. Which means we need to bring the body with us, of course," Envoy explains. "From there we will likely return to our base to conduct any experiments on Von Bronson's pseudo-Sifran technology."

"Oh! Then you could take the food with us," Icarus confirms and nods. Violette again snorts in her sleep. "How can someone so small make so much noise when they sleep?" Icarus asks.

"It's not polite to remark on a woman's snoring," Thorndike chides lightly. "Just as it is to not remark on them sweating. It's called 'glistening'. For humans, anyway."

"Hmmm, I should bring a gift basket for the mages," Envoy says. "Fruit or cheese or something.."

"They like free food, mostly," Envoy decides. "And no mage ever collects stuffed crocodiles, Walter: one is enough. Fruit and cheese and pastries should be fine. Or pie. Pie is very popular."

"What kind of pie? Where are we going to get pie? I miss pie," Walter remarks, sounding wistful.

"What is pie? Icarus asks. His expression grows distant for a second, then comments, "A pastry made with a flaky crust made from flower and egg, usually filled with fruit and sugar that have been mixed into a gel."

"I could try to bake a few here," Envoy says, grinning. "How hard could it be? Otherwise I suppose there are bakeries."

"No offense my dear friend," Walter says with a slight grin, "But your skill in a kitchen is ... how do I put this? You produce meals that an army would send to an enemy they really hated..."

Envoy pouts. "I just need some more practice," she notes. "I'm very good with chemistry, after all. Cooking should not be more difficult than chemistry."

"We will find a bakery," Envoy agrees. "I do not think Von Bronson will be attacking us again immediately, but it may be better to order out and have it delivered to the Embassy."

"You can order pies for delivery? What marvels this world still has!" Thorndike declares triumphantly and points to the ceiling! Poor Violette snorts loudly and jets half upright. "I'm awake!" she practically yells.

"And loud," Daedalus remarks when she enters the visitor's lounge. "Now, what is this about pie?"

"I have to bring a gift for the mages," Envoy explains. "Out of courtesy and because some of them may think I'm a monster, and are less likely to shoot first if I am holding a pie. They respect pie.."