6933/Four Treasures:King of the Cats

From United Heroes MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Four Treasures:King of the Cats
Date of Scene: 17 March 2019
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Raven, Captain America, Stardust and Vorpal summon the King of the Cats. He summons them right back.
Cast of Characters: Stardust, 87, Captain America, Raven




Stardust has posed:
From A Study of Fae: a Modern Sorcerer's Guidebook (Alexander Trimegistus, London 1963).

    It is well known about the Fae that they have a relationship with magic utterly different from the processes of mortal sorcerers. Spells thought near impossible by most of us might be child's play to a Fae who finds himself utterly baffled by a simple cantrip. Perhaps only the little-understood medieval Englishman John Uskglass of all human magicians has ever truly undertood the fae, and was able to deal with the fae nobility on an equal footing. To the rest of us, we are apparently playing an obscure game we don't get told the rules; it is all in all an ill-advised path.
    The noble fae fall however into two categories. Those of the Seelie and Unseelie courts we are at least somewhat familiar with. There is another class who the French mage Dartaigne called 'fee sans-destin', or 'unfated fae'. They are lords untied to the ultimate destiny of the fae people, but rather tied to some domain of the mortal realm. Notable amongst these are Cu Sith and Cait Sith, the Lord of Hounds and the Lord of Cats. While both Seelie and Unseelie can be relied upon at least somewhat to wish to further the aims of their respective courts, the sans-destin fae are beings of pure whim. They may sometimes side with one court or another, but on the whole they have little interest in what passes for fae politics, and their desires are even more obscure than those notably obscure fae lords of the twin courts. In the past a small number of mages have succeeded in gaining the cooperation of one of these sans-destin lords to great personal benefit; the majority who have attempted it failed miserably, often bringing disaster upon themselves. In general: avoid at all costs.


    Or as the Titans would have it, 'avoid unless you can't think of anything else.' Vorpal had received a message from Cait Sith, but as the book says, these are obscure games; little sense had been drawn from it. Perhaps more sense could be drawn from the King of the Cats directly. What to do about Cap's shield, and what the identity of the missing fourth treasure, are the pressing questions of the day.

    On the (relative) safety of the roof of Titans Tower, preparations are made to do what the experts say should not be attempted. If the worst comes to the worst, as Stardust has said repeatedly today by way of reassurance, Fae are actually corporial, and /can/ be punched in the face.

Vorpal (87) has posed:
Vorpal is not exactly thrilled at the prospect of a seance. Or a Feance. or whatever it was you called the summoning of a Fae. The Cait Sith had apparently used him as a very defective answering machine for his bloody message, which had nearly almost driven him insane. He no more wished to see the Cait Sith than he wished to taste one of Starfire's mustardy confections. Which was a generous and all too kind way of describing dishes that were mustard with mustard, with a side of mustard, and optional not mustard.

"This will end in tears, heed my words," the Cheshire cat says, arms crossed and staring sullenly at those gathered up here in the rooftop.

A positive attitude is always very important. He's positive this will be bad.

Captain America has posed:
"If there's a dubious possibility at people weeping by the end of this, it's probably not the best idea." This comes from Steve standing nearby with his hands in the pockets of his motorcycle jacket. "Just being pragmatic," he adds with a shrug of his broad shoulders. Here on invitation given he (potentially) owns the mystifying and aforementioned shield, he did not, however, bring the item with him. It is under lock and key in a very specific vault -- lined with cold iron. Despite being first-generation American, the Captain's bedtime stories were known to have kernels of truth in them.

He glances at the others. "I trust everyone here regardless. We'll get our answers." This much, he seems certain of.

Raven has posed:
    Research into summoning Fae is an interesting endeavor. Most fae find it entirely amusing to do their best to lie to mortal magicians about the methods to summon them. In truth, most of the most unacceptably dangerous magical japes and jokes are sourced to attempts to summon fae, provided entirely by the fae themselves. Depending on who you ask, the first anvil and safe ever dropped on any person's head may in fact have been the result of such an attempt.

    This is why for a short while, Raven has been sorting through the only source of magic that actively lies to you. Thankfully, she still has access to the Sanctum Sanctorum and its libraries- most of which are accurate and all of which are annotated if they're going to summon a pre-falling piano of any kind. All in all, the ritual itself is particularly safe, as safe as all things can be.

    Factually, of course, the danger is never necessarily in the failure of these sorts of things, but rather in the success. Raven doesn't want to be here, and that's not because it's a dangerous endeavor... But more because nothing ever reacts well to Raven's presence the first time. Cait Sith is as like to shriek, point in her direction, and flee as it is to slap Vorpal across the maw with a trout.

    This is why she sips her coffee in grim silence.

Stardust has posed:
"So long as they're fae tears, no problem," Stardust says to Vorpal, fist smacking into palm. Part of her hopes it does go wrong, for no better reason than that she can't help thinking it would be kind of cool to be able to say you'd punched an actual fairy in the face. She's pretty confident everything will be fine though.

Which shouldn't be reassuring to anyone who knows her. If she wasn't confident everthing was going to be fine, it probably means the world already ended.

    Stardust turns and gives a nod to Steve. "Sorry our leader couldn't be here today, Mister America. Robin's on a personal mission. I know he'd loved to have had the opportunity to invite you here and show you around. He'd probably make you some of his famous tea. He makes the most amazing Oolong and /Jasmine/ teas. Have you met Raven before? She's the one I was telling you about. Our equivalent of your Doctor Strange. Only not quite the same. She likes people playing loud music next door, and Hello Kitty dolls.

She does not.

Colette may be being cunning here. If Raven becomes sufficiently enfuriated, even a random, probably deranged and very powerful Fae Lord might have the sense to just give a few answer and get the hell out of there.

Oh let's be honest. She's not being cunning, she's just being Colette.

    "So, uh. Rae. How do we know if the ritual has actually worked? Will he appear in a puff of smoke, or what? How long roughly does it take? Or with fae is it kind of like you don't so much abjure them to appear as wait for them to sidle up to you and whisper in your ear?"

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"Mister America." Vorpal gives a little chuckle. Not too loudly, mind you, because even if the cap had so much jasmine all over him, you could call him Aladdin... he was still a super nice guy, and you didn't make fun of nice guys. Especially not ones who could punch you through walls. Which they wouldn't, because they were nice guys...

"Wait. Rae already did the ritual? When did that happen? While brewing coffee?"

Beat. "The coffee is the ritual, isn't it?"

He looks around at the rooftop, suspiciously.

There is a wind that has picked up, and leaves slowly begin to fall on the rooftop.

"Wait. What?"

There is no possible way, at this height, for them to be here. There isn't a tree that is tall enough-

There is no rooftop. Suddenly, it is forest all around them. A rich, thick forest in autumn, with the crimson leaves just barely starting to fall from the thick canopies.

"Rrrrather amusing to call in this fashion," the voice comes from just off to the side, where a cat is leaning against one of the trees. He wears a small golden crown atop his head, and his fur is completely black. Save for a patch of white on his chest.

"This isn't real," Vorpal frowns and reaches to grab a falling leaf. It is disturbingly solid, yet it feels very unusual.

Captain America has posed:
Colette earns herself a lingering squint from the Captain. It's not the first time the singularly-scented flower can come into play in their conversation and fool him once, but not twice, and it's certainly no coincidence after a third time perhaps to come.

"Y'know, Miss Stardust, I'm not a big fan of jasmine tea," he replies as evenly as he can manage. "Maybe apple-cinnamon, sure. Pleased to meet you regardless, Raven," he's sure to add with a respectful nod towards the silent figure. "And pass on my good word to Robin once he returns."

Vorpal, however, has an excellent point. A tickling at Steve's ear means he flicks a hand back to brush what appears to be a brightly-carmine leaf falling to rest briefly on his shoulder. The man frowns at his surroundings before realizing that there is a large and sentient black cat rather nearby. He takes a visible step back, hands out of his pockets, but makes no immediate move or sound otherwise.

Raven has posed:
    Raven has been staring impassively over the rim of her coffee for a short while. The response Colette gets is short and curt- as is her usual. "When the ritual's effects are completed, we'll all know." This is followed by a long sip from her coffee, signaling that, for the moment, she has finished speaking.

    The world turns into Fae magic, the Cuil has become a short-lived unit of measurement, and all at once nobody on the roof is on a roof any longer. Vorpal's warning is one to be heeded- but to Raven, it isn't required. She could smell the magic in the air and, indeed, is staring at the cat almost before Vorpal has noticed it. Whether that's for any special reason or not is anyone's guess. Raven has not taken her eyes off of the cat in quite some time, which might surprise someone- as rather suddenly, with a twist of her wrist, she flings the contents of her mug to one side, expelling a clump of fine, downy black feathers.

    "It begins."

Stardust has posed:
"No?" Stardust responds to Steve. "Oh well, I have to admit I prefer the oolong myself, but they're both nice. Still, I guess you can have too much of a good thing, right? I mean imagine..." Her tirade is interrupted by the rather sudden change of scenery. Stardust objects, gesticulating at the apparent forest around them. "We were supposed to be summoning him, right? He seems to have summoned us. This is the wrong way around. Hey, Mister King of the Cats. This is the wrong way around."

    Cait Sith's eyes have been flickering between Raven and Vorpal for some time. Longer than he has been visible. Possible since before the ritual actually started. Fae have a rather unique relationship with time. With her objection, the Fae lord turns his gaze to Stardust, and a grin spreads across his face. He glances with distate at the clump of feathers and then... he's gone.

    "Hello, little cousssin." He hasn't gone. He is standing behind Vorpal, /purring/ in the feline Titan's ear. "Brave little cousin! I didn't expect to see you again so soon." He comes out from behind Vorpal, circling. "Was there something you... forgot? Some favour to ask of your king, brave little cousin? To ask your friends to call to me? Don't you know you... you of all people... only have to /speak/, and I'll hear you? Silly cousin. Why do you need these?"

    Cait Sith widens his circle, taking in Raven and Captain America. "A half-demon, a half-mortal..." he dubs them in turn as he circles, before reaching Stardust. "And thisssss. Whatever she is. Foolish! Do you know nothing, mortal? A king does not come to you, you go to the king."

    He circles Stardust, his steps predatory, loping like a tiger. "To make your offerings! At least you did not forget that." He grins at her with very pointed teeth, then turns again to Vorpal. "This one... this absurd one... brought me a bribe. Can you believe it? She thought... she thought it would be wise to have something to offer to me, to trade with me. Do you know what she has brought, little cousin? She has brought fish. Fisssh!"

    Cait Sith throws his head back and laughs. Stardust clutches her rather battered backpack to her chest defensively, and quietly mutters to herself "Well...It's best quality tuna."

    "In a can!"

Vorpal (87) has posed:
Vorpal instinctively recoils from the Cait, even as he tries to approach him several times, clearly out of sorts with the apparition. But his demeanor changes radically when the king of cats starts his mockery. The Cheshire cat's hands curl into fists and he raises his chin in defiance, stepping between Stardust and the Cait.

"You will *not* mock my friends!" he hisses, his voice surprisingly strong, as is the rage that suddenly boils inside of him.

"You may wear the crown, but theirs is the nobility of action instead of the emptiness of words." His voice drops and his eyes narrow. "You couldn't even send a message the right way, and now you wish to mock them?"

Turning on his heel, Vorpal speaks over his shoulder, "Whatever that message is that was so important to him clearly isn't important enough to actually *tell* us. We're wasting our time here, he clearly can take care of whatever it is his little rhyme was all about. We're leaving."

And he reaches over with a hand in the air, ready to open a Rabbit Hole.

Captain America has posed:
Uninterested in drawing further attention to himself, Steve merely watches the Cait approach and circle around him. There's never enough distance for comfort. The vee of a frown lingers between his brows as he continues marking the nuances of its movements. Very few things on Earth shift with such confident grace beneath their pelt -- but hey, they aren't on Earth now. Or are they? He glances over to Stardust being addressed with her paltry tuna and then to Vorpal after he takes offense to the Cait's pretty speech.

"Empty words for sure," he mutters under his breath in agreement as he begins to move over close to the Cheshire Cat and the young woman. Raven seems to be able to hold her own and Steve knows that if she's been compared to the Sorcerer Supreme he knows, she's nothing to sneeze at. Regardless, he's uncomfortable having them spaced out as they are. His footfalls are muffled in the spread of ruddy leaves.

Raven has posed:
    Raven is as stoic and silent as she can ever be- and ever is. Truth be told, this is not her affair, and meddling in affairs that aren't hers is a great way to find herself with more enemies than she'd like. As much as Raven is a good person, Vorpal, Colette, and Captain America (You have to say the whole thing) are not exactly helpless in -any- situation, much less this one. Still, there are some matters of decorum.

    "He -can't.-" She begins, speaking out of turn, and to some degree, out of nowhere. "It's not in his nature. It'd be like asking a fish to walk you to your car on a sunny Monday night." There is, then, a pause, as her attention turns to Colette. The mug has been drifting to the ground for a short while, cradled in the embrace of a form of anti-light that Raven conjured who-knows-when. "As for Colette's gift, it is comical and highly disrespectful. Just the -perfect- offering for a -certain- kind of King." There is a look that Colette gets. Regardless of how much Raven is working to justify the offering- and whether or not it is successful- Raven is, in a certain way, -furious.-

Stardust has posed:
Vorpal's explosion is greeted with a smile from the Cait Sith. At first a quite pleasant smile, but the smile spreads wider and wider, his sharp teeth appearing to grow longer as his smile widens. "Brave words!" He hisses. " Don't think yourself beyond my power, little cousssin. You think Wonderland is so very far from Faery? If only you knew!" His eyes flash with anger that passes in a breath, and his next response seems almost sulky. "I did tell you. The message was plain as day. It's not my fault if you and your oh-so-noble friends are too stupid to understand it. Go though! Go. I will allow it. You think I care? I owed Auberon a favor. You have been told, the favor is done. Ask him if you want to know more! I care nothing for their silly treasures."

     Cait Sith waves a hand dismissively, and turns his back on the four of them, arms folded. The Cat Lord may possibly be sulking.

    And just as quickly, the cat changes his mind. "Wait." He holds a clawed hand out flat towards Vorpal, and turns his attention of Raven. He stares at her a few moments then his head tilts sharply to the side. "A 'certain kind of King?'" he repeats dangerously. "You have a sharp beak, little bird. Do you squawk with your father's voice? Oh yes, I know who you are. Tell him to stay out of Faery. There are morsels too big for even him."

    Cait Sith's tail swishes with agitation and he starts to pace again. "I should not have answered you. Any of you! My part in this is done. Nothing good will come of this. Wasting time with mortals. Foolish, foolish mortals. The message was passed on! You did not listen. Is it my fault you do not listen?" He speaks rapidly, apparently to himself, and stops very suddenly in front of Steve.

    "You, you stink of it!" he growls at the Captain. "Of Faery treasure. One has been found. You have touched it. You know where it is. Why have you done nothing about it? Fool! Do you court disaster on purpose?"

Vorpal (87) has posed:
Vorpal turns around. To his credit, he keeps his smirk internal, his face a perfect feline mask. Ears and tail perfectly disciplined, too.

A favor to Auberon. A favor is a word given, and if anyone knows anything about the Fae, it is that they take the giving of their word seriously. Deathly so, at times. A broken word was a broken Fae, and even the most chaotic of them were bound by that. Part of the magic of being able to do almost anything is that, in turn, you would. This, he did remember from his 'other' memories- he had hypothesized, long ago, one golden afternoon when one of the Queens (he forgets which) was in a more philosophical mood, that the Old Magic of the fae must be based on some sort of contract, because magic was always a give-and-take, a cost and benefit. The fae that came to the realms of the men who are fated to die and became benefactors, granting boons, may have done so as part of the contract, finding no other Fae with whom to exchange favors... or perhaps, more sanely, finding none they could trust to enter into such an exchange. Humans, with their basic needs and their tiny lifetimes, were comparatively easy to please.

"A favor is a favor," Vorpal says quietly, with a slight raising of his eyebrows. "I believe that, for the effective conveyance of this message, you may have left some useful information out?"

What was a favor, if not a favor done right, right?

Captain America has posed:
The Fae cat is far too close for Steve's druthers now, but he keeps his stance as neutral as he can manage. He ceases to move again and plants himself, his chin uplifted in defiance against the tone of voice leveled at him.

"I'm more a soldier than a spy. A threat that I'm aware of is a threat that I can address. You gonna be clear about it? Or are we gonna dance around the issue instead?" he asks of Cait Sith in a calm and yet implacably-steely tone of voice.

Raven has posed:
    Raven has to take a back seat. This is Vorpal's show- and to some degree Colette's as well. Still, her attempt to curtail the hatred with some level of amusement hasn't exactly gone well, and to some degree it warrants response. "If I were speaking with my father's tongue, you would not have the time to form so flippant of a response."

    Raven's hands seek out her pockets. It's more of a casual thing rather than a matter of comfort, but her arms do go slack. She is not here to make threats- "But if there is something that would choke even him, I welcome it to try. Your people could easily invite him in. The only price that could be paid is the death of every Fae."

Stardust has posed:
"'Effffective conveyence'... what a thoroughly /human/ phrase, little cousin," the Cait Sith sneers. "Just like humans, always tried to cut the world up into smaller and smaller verities, as if such things existed. What makes it effective? If I was utterly explicit in Thracian, would that help you any? Or if you prefer it in English, I could kill you all and whisper it to your skulls in a thousand years? Effectiveness depends on the audience. I am not responsible for the audience. If you are too foolish to understand what I tell you, that's no fault of mine."

    The Cait Sith chuckles, deep in his throat. Fae are, after all , creatures of contract. And a Faery favor is a very /negotiable/ thing. Vorpal may have struck on something there, but it was never going to be that easy.

    The Fae Lord turns his attention on Steve, eyes glinting, an expression of dangerous amusement dancing across his features. "Oh! A soldier. How delightful." He paces towards Captain America, taking slow loping steps, like a cat seeing how close it can get before it must pounce. "I was clear. The rest is obvious. You own it, don't you? You're the Captain of tir an iarthair. The Treasure has a connection to two worlds. Abjure the connection to Faerie. Dance around it though? Now that's an interesting offer, soldier. Interesting."

    And then he's standing behind Raven. "You've studied deeply, haven't you little bird? Looked into ever corner and every cranny... of this slender veil you mistake for the world. You know nothing! Choke him? /Why should we!/ We don't care!"

    Just as suddenly, it's Stardust's turn. Cait Sith stands in front of her, snorts, says "Tuna!" and completes the circle back to Vorpal, who he greets with an expectant grin. "Did you hear, little cousin? Your soldier wants to dance with me."

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"Then he would be sorely disappointed to find a partner with two left feet. The King of Cats trips upon his own tongue, so eager is he to play games. Ah." The Cheshire cat holds his hands behind his back and now takes his turn circling the Cait Sith.

"Whence the eloquence? That power of speech that could move every son and daughter of the moon from the Great Glen to the Western Isles? That clarity of thought , that silvered tongue, the piercing discourse?" He extends one hand and makes a dismissive gesture. "Gone. Scattered to forgetfulness. What king is this now that cannot even perform the work of the lowliest herald?" He tsk tsk tsks and shakes his head. "I guess it is why only old doddering wives remember who you were, but the majority of the world has forgotten. Because you have forgotten yourself, 'cousin.' More alive today know of Wonderland than remember your stories. It is a pity, really."

He shrugs. "You know what song and story means to your people. You wish to be remembered, there's part of the power in there. Were you to prove more... tractable," the Cheshire cat turns around to face the Cait Sidhe, "I can't see why the world shouldn't know the story of the one who helped save it. That's at least a few more generations of stories. A king with no stories is a sad king, and you're a few centuries due for a new one, I wager."

Captain America has posed:
Having confirmed multiple aspects of the original prophecy, Steve stands as a living bulwark. If Cait Sith wants to waltz right up into his personal space, he can. The Captain's not going to move an inch or be enticed by sneers. Even as he glances over at the claim put forth to Vorpal, he remains mute. Far better to say nothing at this point than dig himself deeper.

Stardust has posed:
    The Cait Sith takes a step back in cautious surprise at the sudden change in Vorpal's tone. When the gist of Vorpal's speech becomes apparent, the Cait Sith hisses with anger and his eyes burn gold. "Fine lines, little cousin. Very fine lines. Oh yes, your little garden has become so... very... famous. But you forget yourself. You forget WHO I AM."

     The lights dim. This is quite a good trick, as it's outdoors. Darkness spreads through the forest until only the Cait's burning eyes and Vorpal's more dimly glowing are visible. And then, two by two, all around them, pairs of eyes appear, looking in. In a matter of seconds, they are surrounded by hundreds of pairs of eyes. The Cait's voice is now a whisper that fills the night, a sound right by your ear and a sound that echoes the air. "Old doddering wives? You forget. Every night, they call my name, by the thousand and tens of thousands. Every night they pray to me. When the moon falls from the sky and every last human is dust, they will still call my name."

    All around, the audience of glowing eyes lets out a thousand howls... the light returns, and a thousand cats leap for the undergrowth and vanish.

    "But you have a point. Suddenly the Cait Sith sounds /old/. He lowers his head for a moment before looking up again. "You have a point. I do like stories. But why should I think this is an good one? Just because it's /your/ story doesn't mean I should make it mine. Just because /you/ care... And yet, here I am. In your story. And that's why you called me, because..." his eyes glint again, and he takes a hop backwards, grinning. "You needed me. Needed a star turn. Well you got that with your summoning spell, didn't you? Whether I help you any more or not."

    The Cait Sith steps away, and stalks back to Steve. He holds a hand out, curling a finger into a 'come with me' gesture. "So, it seems we're done here. Why don't I just take my soldier dancing, and go?"

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"Because that would make for a poor story," Vorpal says quietly, arms crossed over his chest. "And after this, if I understand the general outline of the threat, no more stories. Now they call you by the tens of thousands, but tomorrow?" He shrugs. "No more praises, no more songs, and no-one left to remember you. Well, except the other fae."

Vorpal grins widely, "And we all know how fond they would be to tell stories about anyone but themselves, right?"

He walks over to Steve and leans on him, one arn over his shoulder. "The soldier you so much want to dance with is known by more people than you currently are. Just /feel/ the story, the history, pouring from him. He is not just admired, he is beloved, and feared by his enemies. No knight of any Fae court ever achieved such reknown as he has. And he is honest to a fault- the story he would tell would be a true one, and heard by the eager ears of the world. You can choose what your role in the story will be."

He smirks, "Or, more precisely, you will choose whether there will be any stories hereafter."

He gestures to Steve, "He offers you your name at the tip of the tongue of the world- he will do more for you than William ever did for letting people remember Titania and Auberon. But, if you are so eager to cast all of that away, if age makes oblivion and desolation preferable..." he shrugs, "Then I guess we will close the book and wait for the lights to go out, no?"

Stardust has posed:
Cait Sith keeps his eyes fixed on Steve as Vorpal gives his speech, letting his fellow cat spirit say his piece without interruption. When he's finished the Cait Sith spits on the ground and lowers his hand. "Why should I care what he did for Auberon and Titania? He did nothing for me. NOTHING! And that..." he rounds on Vorpal. "That is what you offer me to! Not a star turn, a bit part. This... mortal." Claws are flashed in Steve's direction. "This mortal. You name him greater than any Fae knight, a mere mortal, and you offer to let me bask in his radiance? NOTHING. And you, Soldier. What do you offer me? You don't even /want/ to dance. NOTHING! Or you, little bird?" The Cait Sith stares long and hard at Raven, then his shoulders drop.

    "You know, it's been over a hundred years since a human sorcerer cast a summoning without attempting a containment on me. The last six I killed. I have to admit, you're not stupid. You don't know anything, but you're not stupid. Tell your soldier to take his stone to the place where you stand in two worlds, and abjure his stone's bond to Faerie aloud to the winds." The Cait turns back to stare at Vorpal. "You're still wrong, little cousin." The Cait Sith vanishes, and the forest is gone.

    That's not quite right. That makes it sound as if it was sudden, but there was no moment it ceased to be and the Titans tower reappeared. It is not so much a transition as the realization the forest had never been there. Everything is back to normal.

    The forest is still there. The Cait Sit is still there. He steps up to Stardust, and holds out a taloned hand. "Give." Wordlessly, Stardust takes two cans of tuna from her backpack and places it in the Cait Sith's hand. The forest and Cait Sith are gone.

Vorpal (87) has posed:
Vorpal stares for a moment at the place where the Cait Sith isn't anymore, and then he stares at the lack of forest. Then he looks at Raven, Steve and Colette.

He walks over to Colette and gives her a quick hug, pretty much out of nowhere- but by this point, random behavior from cats is the norm anyways- and then steps back to look at the rest of the coterie.

"I'll order the pizzas."

And he turns around and heads for the elevator. There's going to be a lot of research to be done...