"Aw, but I wanted to use that as my Taken name," Rafe whined. "It's perfect, and y'all have one. I think I should get one. I like that one."

"It suits you," Gabe said with a nod. "Clunky and inelegant, and completely without hidden depths."

"Exactly. Hey!"

Solomon suppressed a smile at the angelic brotherly scuffle happening in the corner and turned toward Ravel. "Seems a tad exotic to me," he said dryly. "I was thinking perhaps--"

"Seeing as we should probably keep some semblance of sanity, at least so we can lure the poor bastards of other nations into our trap, we'll just call them the Host," Corrival cut in, amusement in his tone. "China, I imagine their creation will be more your field than Grouse's, but any help you can render would be appreciated, Professor."

"As long as the Council of Elders remembers that this meeting still has a consultation fee," Kenspeckle snapped, sounding a little disappointed that he wouldn't actually get to help more.

Rafe looked up front the corner, in the process of trying to put Gabe in a headlock and not quite managing it because the younger Archangel kept deflecting Rafe's wings with his own. "Hey, does this mean the meeting's over? Is it time to go have fun now? Y'all ready for the carnie?"

"I think we've done enough for the first day," Corrival agreed. "Someone send out a Cleaver for Tipstaff. We'd better let him know before we disappear, or we'll have to train up a new Administrator after his aneurysm."

"And he was being broken in so nicely," Solomon murmured.