Later that same day, Blake tucked away the contract and drop of blood into one of the drawers of the night table beside her bed, the one that had unofficially ended up hers after enough of her late-night reads made their residence there, right beside each other, a flashlight, and some various other miscellaneous things. Most things were all Blake's, but just enough small things from the rest of the team were there as well that it wouldn't be unreasonable to check there.

It was there, placed a few minutes after getting the light out when Blake remembered, that the small contract rested, leaned slightly on the bike-lock-like Combination Key, both beside a brush and a comb, both with a few straggling hairs stuck in them.

(Linebreak)

"This certainly must be a touch unusual," thought Memnol as he was putting on his Mirror Mask in the last moments of preparation, "I believe local custom for a male of my chronological age's first date is to scrounge up whatever seems decently nice enough and go to someplace local."

After a few more moments he thought, "Well, first genuine date I suppose in the interest of being specific, as I suppose my first date whatsoever, all of them up to this point on further thought, were more for manipulation purposes. Actually, looking back, a vast majority of times it was just for an assassination or secret gathering for the cult."

He paused and faced a mirror in his quarters of the new Magnificent Mansion he had put together early that Saturday, "I suppose I have finally reached that 'older' state where I'd concern myself with this sort of thing," He shook his head just a very slight amount, as if sifting that bit of reminiscing from his current focus, "Now then, the plan once more; Pick Ms. Black Cloak up at the location and teleport to the date site, ask the question to begin, then depending on the answer, either continue the date, or simply abandon the prospect, and relocate and secure the crocodile to the Menagerie location the IA's and I prepared earlier today."

He gave himself one more look from behind the mask, observing the endless reflection effect between it and the regular mirror, "Although, maybe I have finally found someone of a similar mindset? I think that perhaps I will allow my hopes up a touch. Based on her actions before she is more likely than not exceptionally long-lived if not unagingly immortal, so, perhaps."

Then, quite promptly at exactly five minutes before 6 PM Vale time, he vanished to their normal meeting location.

There, he only needed to wait around two minutes until Black Cloak showed up, same Grimm styled mask as ever, and he held out a gloved hand, "Hello Ms. Black Cloak. Since we are both early, I see no reason to delay. If you would take my hand, I will teleport us both to the location."

Ms. Black Cloak took his hand with an equally gloved hand and not a word, ready to be brought over, while Memnol was noting that she had indeed been corporeal and not a projected image or such. With a rather quick word from Memnol, the two were taken to the site Memnol had chosen for their date.

There was a similar setup to the previous location, two mithral folding chairs, though now they were situated near the top of a sort of hill, overlooking a rather small village, a steady, calm, and flow movement of people shown by the flickering firelight in the torches and braziers throughout the, as Memnol knew, Menagerie village. A little ways behind the two was jungle, and indeed the hill was actually made from dirt, rather than sand as most of Menagerie was.

Different however was the small patch of area just a touch behind the chairs which was perpetually snowing, only a five-foot by five-foot square patch, and settled a touch on top of the snow and in it was a clear glass bottle filled with wine, Westgate Ruby in particular, which he chose as he could Wish for exactly 1000 Tuns of it with one Wish. Or in more commonly used measurements, 252,000 Gallons with one Wish. So, he did have quite the massive amount of Wine over at the base construction site, which had come along exceptionally far and was just needing the last touches of furnishings and such, which he'd already decided he'd dedicate some time to just Wish-ing up the mundane furniture for it at a later point and creating the needed Crunch Zones and Magical Items.

But for now, the date at hand.

Memnol led Ms. Black Cloak by the hand to the left chair of the two, and in a light jest pulled it out for her and pushed it back in slightly once she sat down, and he himself took the right chair.

After some moments of pause, while they both remained silently looking on the little village, Ms. Black Cloak said, "So, tell me, with magic as your passion and your tale of Vecna, do you truly believe someone can become a god?"

Memnol said, "Absolutely, so long as one is willing and capable of handling the other gods, particularly if supplanting one of them, as well as the tedium of the endless tide of Varakhuts."

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Ms. Black Cloak was silent for a moment, before she said, "Varakhuts?"

Memnol said, "Not around anymore most likely, but a kind of being believed to be dedicated to maintaining the divine order of reality, if you want to alter a pantheon by killing or becoming a god, or assisting another in that matter, it was said that you'd have to deal with the Varakhuts eventually. Quite frankly though, against anybody with a legitimate bid on godhood, exceptionally powerful mages to put it simply and honestly, they frankly seem rather weak."

Ms. Black Cloak made a brief sound of acknowledgment, perhaps thought, and there was silence for a few moments.

Memnol broke the silence and said, "A question in return for yours then," He gestured out to the view in front of them, "In a non-literal sense, what do you see?"

After another pause, Ms. Black Cloak said, "A zit on an otherwise beautiful face. Arrived through lack of proper care, and though removable quickly, the damage would take time to heal, to let that beauty be restored. Yourself?"

A moment of thought, and then, "Potential."

Ms. Black Cloak said, "Well, now you have to go on with an answer like that. What potential?"

With a slight nod, he said, "All numbers of different kinds." He gestured slightly away from the village, "A touch in any direction and some time ahead, there lies a sea of not yet gems waiting to be taken." A vague gesture, in the air, "A step to a direction that doesn't much have a name and debatably exists, and instead, walking pillars of glass. Another step, an ocean that swallowed even the memories of a land that, then, would have only supposedly existed. Another step, and there flies a bird made of knowledge and light, weaving in and out of a great mirror." Each point emphasized by another vague wave.

After a moment, Ms. Black Cloak responded with a single faint half-scoff half-laugh, and said, "Certainly quite fanciful, that. If I can guess, you write?"

From that, the longest pause, and then Memnol replied, tone as neutral as ever had been, "Novels and such, I take it you mean? No."

After that, he got up, and held out a hand as if to help her up, saying, "I'm afraid something has come up that I have just been notified of. I can teleport us back for now, and perhaps we can speak further another time?"

After a moment, she began to reach for the hand and speak, "That sounds agreea-" Yet the moment the touched it she was cut off, for she had disappeared, and Memnol had stood there, not having teleported himself with her. Why would he? The destination was one of the few that that would've left him dead and lastingly so in his current state. Well, until he got a few Stasis Clones set up or a phylactery, though upon the thought of it the earlier option did worm its way into his to-do list.

Elsewhere, Ms. Black Cloak had just long enough to understand her location, before light and heat overtook her.

Memnol raised up Loom, and vanished back to Beacon, returning to the dragon continent to relocate the Crocodile, and then to his quarters to indeed research Stasis Clone, and since he'd have the time before calling it a night, Greater Anticipate Teleportation, which would soon find its way into his morning and nightly preparations, alongside his usual Mind Blanks.

For those not in the loop on those, Stasis Clone would make an inert physical clone of Memnol, that his soul could flee to and inhabit should he die, but unlike the normal Clone spell, the clone wouldn't rot if not fled to immediately, instead remaining in, per the name, stasis, each one created effectively serving as an extra life. Greater Anticipate Teleportation would simply last for 24 hours, akin to Mind Blank, but rather than protect against mental attacks, would protect against teleportation, informing Memnol of and delaying incoming teleportation in a radius around him. Greater, as it delayed it by around 18 or so seconds, quite the time to set up.

(Linebreak)

Elsewhere, far into the Dragon Continent and very late into Vale's night, Salem reached her way from the bottom of a Grimm Pool back to the surface, her soul now in a remade body, after the previous one had been destroyed, as had the mask and cloak she had, in quite the fashion.

After some brief time, Salem mused to herself, "I have horrid luck with men. The brother gods deny and curse me, my husband tries to leave me with the kids, and now after my first date in ages he sends me INTO THE SUN."

She would send a look to the pool, "I had wondered if that would work," sending a scowl at it, "It didn't."

Then, she shifted, and faced the pool, dipping her hands back in, while already the shape of a beetle-esque Grimm began to slowly and meticulously take shape as she carefully guided it.

"No matter," She thought, a malicious grin growing on her face, "That magic of his can be put to better use, after it's ripped out of him, slowly, piece by piece."

A small village in Menagerie would that night repel an attack of Grimm, a touch larger than average. Nineteen sustained long-term non-permanent injuries. Five died and were buried on the nearby hill the following day. One caught a cold, trying to find a near-surface deposit of ice-dust at the inexplicable snow, which they later assumed must have gone off entirely during the attack, rather than merely the surface most Dust being agitated.

(Linebreak)

"Soo, Memnol," Yang said to Memnol the next day, Sunday, as he and the two teams ate breakfast together, "How was it? What happened?"

Memnol said, "It was alright. Nothing big happened."

Ruby asked, energetic self as usual, "Are you two going on another date?" She was really hoping for a yes, because, well, if the Power of Love was basically an even bigger version of the power of friendship! It would absolutely be able to convince Memnol he could be good!

Right?

Memnol said, "No, we won't be seeing each other anymore, though I believe we split decently enough."

At this, Ruby deflated a touch, and Jaune asked, "Any reason why not?"

Memnol looked back to his breakfast for a good moment, observing his reflection in a knife, and said before continuing, "A fundamental difference in views."