Fresh off of murdering his old political rival, Cosmalaslo, Weep is now making executive house calls.

He is a busy tripotentiary, and he still has more things he has to do today.

No rest for the Valeris.

One of the many things he needs to do is drop by the home of the tripotentiary's arc auditor,

the new job that he just spontaneously made up the other day.

He's been keeping the Ark Auditor very busy, talking about potential reforms and surplus actions,

you know, economy stuff. Until Lark can be found and retrieved for reclamation, people still need to go about their lives.

He's actually never been to Amelda's house before.

Not surprising, perhaps, since he's been involved in non-stop action, excitement, and

sociopolitical intrigue ever since he relocated to the highest light.

But now he and Amelda are running the whole trust, more or less kind of together.

They are colleagues, you might say.

They have become the proud parents of a freaky cult.

Here in the entry of Amelda's residence, his tri-potentiary guard patiently stationed outside,

Weep is jauntily hanging up his raiments,

trying to thread his arm and his hoses out of a coat sleeve.

His portable IV pump contraption wheels beside him, quietly wheezing and gurgling, dark vials

bubbling with black squirming blood.

Please let me help you with that, Amelda says, taking his coat for him and hanging it up in the

hall closet.

She offers to take the little white paper bag he's carrying too, but he shakes his head.

That's a little surprise, he says.

...