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Remi lingered around the throne for a little longer, but honestly... being near the thing as it seemed to be 'alive' was just a bit creepy. It was almost as if the thing had a pulse, living... The object was not dead, no. It was well and very much alive.

It was too much for the kitsune, the compulsion to stay close to it was radiating on a nerve. No, he was not some hopeless illusions of himself to want to stay close. Standing up he moved away from the thing, bumping in to a few more in the process.

A quick look back at the book. Still nothing.

Ami stumbled out of the room, seeing as there was nothing of interest in it. When she did, a swipe of a claw lashed out beside her. She couldn't see much in the fog, but there was a large slab of ... something in front of her, and that looked like as good of cover as any. She focused on protecting herself and finding Dakota.

Her hands felt in the darkness, and she realized the slab of wood was smooth metal, a little cold to the touch. She pressed her face against it as she was still somewhat out of breath from all the stairs and adrenaline.

As she did, a small phrase revealed itself to her. "Call my true name." So it was asking for a name? A chair was asking for its name. No, it wasn't a chair. It was a throne. A king's name?

Ami thought for a moment. Combined with his statements on the first floor, it was apparent to her that this was the true king's throne. So she needed to know the true king's name?! Even in her alternate universe form she hadn't known that.

Biting her lip, she tried to logically deduce an answer. If this was the true king's throne, who did that make the voice? The voice had inferred that he wasn't the true king, but above him. The voice was the creator. Or ...

So that would make this king the fake king. Lesser. Using her claws, she scratched out The True King's Shadow. Good enough.

There was nothing for him to do, nothing he could do, nowhere to go. The only direction he had was what he could glean from him. This Harrison could speak, he had felt it, if not heard it. He could apparently see, he'd found him. He didn't want to let go, so he didn't, just kept his hold on the silver fabric.

He never thought he'd miss twitter. There was so much he wanted to say and no way to say it efficiently, apologies for what happened, gratitude for finding him here and a million other things besides.

He settled for something that was none of these things.

R--T-H-E-R--S-N-A-K-E-S

Millie tried to wander away from the throne to find something else to do, but.... ended up back at the throne?

Boy, she was great at getting lost sometimes...

It was empowering, for once, to be the hero. Even if he had no idea what he was protecting this woman from, nor did he know if he actually was protecting her at all - it was easy to let his imagination soar off into the distance when his eyes and ears couldn't tell him a thing. He imagined himself the greatest of heroes, protecting the princess from a mighty foe. She would be so grateful, when he brought her back unscathed. Surely they would be married, and live happily ever after, and whoever was crowned the True King would certainly knight him for his heroic efforts.

Yes, that was definitely how things were going to happen when they all escaped from here.

Bastion felt the soft sigh of breath against his neck, and every hair on his skin stood up on end. Was that really necessary? It was hard enough being noble at the moment, with a body this soft pressing against him. He hadn't touched her inappropriately once, this entire time, and that was only because Bastion had purged himself in the wake of his death. He was a new man, who wasn't actively seeking out the distraction of women to try and forget his broken heart. He was just.. just another man.

But even then, just a man would have trouble being proper at a moment like this.

Her fingers were sliding across the back of his shirt, trying to write something. It was difficult to actually focus on figuring out what each letter she painted was, because oh gods that felt good. But it was only three letters, and that was fortunate for Bastion. He actually managed to catch what she was asking.

Who was he? If she knew him, the name would disgust her. If she didn't know him, his name would mean nothing. So why bother telling her the truth?

He turned, just enough to lift his hand, and his finger grazed across that sweet flesh just under her collarbone. Yay, an acceptable reason to touch her. Bastion was pleased as punch.

What did his fingers write out against her soft, silky skin?

M E N G

The Voice had said its name many times, or at least it had inside the small one's head, and as Temes felt her fingers brush over lettering that demanded she called out the true name of the Voice, she....wondered how that was possible.

She couldn't shout or sing it aloud, she couldn't see to write it down. She couldn't draw it with a pencil, she couldn't paint it with blood. . .but she could use her tiny body to do her best.

And so Temes just...started miming out letters with her entire being because she was very little and it was so much easier to flail overall. It also wasn't like anyone was watching that could see her, right?

A-R-T-H-U-R.

Slowly she did it, and then did it again. This time she shouted into the darkness with a voice not heard, all the while flapping her arms. She might have touched the book too and tried to move it, like it was some sort of wonderful object.

YOUR NAME IS A-R-T-H-U-R.

She was probably so very wrong.

While Millie was looking around for something else to do, something hit her extremely hard.

Yelling, she flew in the air a few feet to land on the floor somewhere.

Great.... now she'd never find her way back to any of the land marks.

Not that that was a big priority right now.

What the hell was that? was the only thought that kept running through her head as she lay on the floor whimpering. She wasn't even sure if she could stand up...