Tired, dirty, disheveled, Zhu Qingtong folds his hands inside his sleeves and grins up at the non-functional Gate.<br/><br/>"So.  What do you Ministry of Thunder types do for a relaxing weekend," he quips.  "I mean, obviously wandering through a necropolis and laying all the angry inhabitants to final rest probably falls under 'other duties as assigned', but it still seems like a lot of boring busy-work."<br/><br/>He gives one side of the Gate a nudge with one sandal, grunting in wry satisfaction when it fails to do anything untoward like, say, collapse or explode.<br/><br/>"More importantly, are you not now both behind schedule and somewhat lost?"<br/><br/>