[While most of Vakama's time is spent either off in the labs with Tails and Viktor doing who knows what with the machinery or out on the field destroying what robots aren't being scrapped, he's taking a considerable amount of time to searching out individuals. If you're in the middle of something, he'll just ask that you come back to his room when you have a free minute.

Said room is now just him, since Dorothy has moved out, and he's already reworked the space considerably. Thank you to Ashley for introducing Vakama to the glory of writing on paper, because there are notes everywhere - several notebooks in various states across his desk, filled with drawings and writing of all sorts, while multiple variations of designs for gearwork both primitive and complicated scattered and pinned to one whole side of his room. There are sketched images of some of the robots they have been fighting, mathematical diagrams drawn and redrawn and scribbled out hastily, as well as notes about the shards that can barely be made out if you squint through the language barrier. Two unfamiliar masks also sit against one of the desks, items he's not bothered to have out for display until this week.

His door remains open as he works, either tinkering with some sort of metal contraption in the earlier portions of the week or writing in whatever slow periods they have besides. Whenever he does have someone poke their head in, his attention draws immediately.]

Ah, good. Thank you, I know we're all busy. This shouldn't take long. [Pulling a chair with his telekinesis comes almost second nature now, a gesture to sit as he readjusts his own and reaches for a much newer, emptier notebook.]

If you could give your name, shard, and previous occupation. What I'll ask just... requires some context, I'm afraid.