Désirée: "Hmmm~ Rosa is such a pretty name! And Eigla, how... exotic. I like it.

As to the mess... Well, that tentacle ball. My repairmen report it broke through three entire floors of the southern wing. Still, it's understandable. You were defending yourselves from that escaped boar after all.

It was quite a neat trick! Which of you did it, if I may ask?


Also, Eigla, there's not much around, at least not within the Wastes themselves. Most of our exports are sent North through a tunnel that passes under the nearby hills, and then along the coastline to the rest of the Master's territories. There's a small border town at the edge of the desert, but it's hardly worth mentioning.

I'm glad you seem to be enjoying lunch so much. Let's see, the second dishes should be nearly ready..."

She claps her hands again, and the maids return, bringing a large cauldron of a rich, fragrant stew, as well as long kebabs with various cuts of pork and multicolored bell peppers.

Désirée: "I see. Pleased to meet you, Klimt. You're an impressive fighter."

Emilia doesn't seem to be fully conscious. She opens her eyes slightly and coughs, but is still quite weak.

Désirée: "Oh dear. Your friend doesn't seem to be doing so well, does she? If you'd like, I have a fully equipped medical ward. Oh, and don't worry, the doctors are mechanized, not undead. I wouldn't trust my incompetent underlings to deal with anything so delicate."

Désirée smiles earnestly.

Désirée: "Of course! However, please stay with us a little longer, at least until the end of lunch. I would advise you to have a bath before entering the hospital, as well.

My servants could carry her there now, it is probably not a good idea to postpone her treatment.


Also, Peggy you say? Hm. Don't worry. I will mobilize as many search parties as I can, and use the PA zombies to call out for her. I'm sure she'll be looking forward to reuniting with you~"

The maids bring more dishes, this time lasagna and other meat-filled kinds of pasta, decorated with intricately cut tomatoes.

EVENTS:

A group of masked butlers appears, gently putting Emilia onto a stretcher, and carry her away.

Désirée: "Please follow, Klimt. A servant will show you your quarters. Do not worry about the food, I'll have the cooks keep your dishes warm."

Rosa: "This is a lot of food.
How many courses is lunch?"

Désirée: "Depends on how hungry you feel, of course. Considering how much Eigla seems to be enjoying herself, I'd say it's hardly enough~"

Another clap, and the maids bring four large shepherd's pies, brimming with gravy.

Eigla: "We greatly appreciate your hospitality. Is there anything we can do to help out?"

Désirée: "Oh, please. I would never ask anything of my guests! Just enjoy yourselves. After you've settled in, I would love to have you for tea, and perhaps give you a tour of the facilities?"

EVENTS:

Klimt leaves the table, following the zombies. After walking out of the office and down a few corridors, he is shown to a mahogany door with a brass plaque bearing his name.

The large room him before is not as fancy as the office, but comfortable and tastefully furnished. The lack of windows bothers him a bit, but he supposes the wastes would not make for much of a view anyways.

A tarp covers the carpet, leading him into an equally large bahroom, complete with full toilet facilities and an immersion bath that could comfortably host a pool party. A pair of porcelain-faced maids kneel beside it, holding bars of soap and towels.

There's... water, in the tub. He can't help but aprehensively bite his lip, remembering the effects of rain on his body.

EVENTS:

Klimt sucks it up and steps down onto the water, almost falling over from the sudden dizzy spell. The maids rush to his aid, supporting his shoulders and gently lowering him onto the bath.

Huh. As long as he stays still, it doesn't seem to hurt. Waving his hand through the liquid makes it feel momentarily numb, but the sensation disappears when he stops. Similarly, when the maids step down onto the tub and begin slowly scrubbing his body, he feels only a confusing tingle, that seems to follow the water's movement. It is not entirely unpleasant, even when he lets himself disperse into tendrils, his octopus-like form taking up almost the entirety of the pool. The maids are unfazed, and clean every tentacle with the same meticulous, machine-like attention.


Several minutes and three full water changes later, he deems himself clean enough. His helpers dry him up with more towels and hand him a warm bathrobe and slippers, before bowing and leaving the room.