[Suzerain of Sheol]

Hmm... I was really hoping more of them would come inside. Zut! Blech. I mean, darn! Oh, well.

Merlin has been attempting to decide, all this time, whether to get changed into something more presentable to greet her guests. Ultimately, though, she decides that the answer is: no. If her dumpy old robes had been good enough for the Greatest of All Kings Who Ever Lived (tm), they were perfectly good for these lovely people! (Albeit, to call her outfit a robe might be a bit of an exaggeration, but really, nobody back then would have wanted to see that shriveled-up, mangy old man prancing around half-naked. Really, nobody; EX Clairvoyance, bitches. As if the Grail had needed more reasons to forsake Camelot! Not that it was a suppressed fantasy or anything to channel that latent incubus blood just tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiny bit, definitely not. The great wizard was just... you know what! Her party, her dress-code, damn it! If you don't like it, you can leave!)

She idly wonders, as she stalls for even more time, how long she might be able to keep them from unleashing Hell upon each other if she just burned through all her Command Seals. Can Grail Wars be canceled? Hmm...

Merlin imagines a resonant, dispassionate NO. in the ensuing silence from the holy vessel, and sighs.