"I can give you all devices that are like mine but less awesome because the brain surgery would not work on you."

"Thank you!!!"

He hands around tablets with tutorials queued up.

The three of them head off museum-wards, marvelling at the architecture as they go.

"I think our test subject is mostly settled on a body, if this looks good." Felicity sends over some specs.  The solstice would apparently like to be a very tall, stunningly beautiful woman (Felicity has sketched a face for reference; she's pretty good at drawing) with white feathery wings and a tail to match; digitigrade legs, not hooved but clawed to match her upper set of arms; a mostly normal skin tone but kind of glittery and with a white gradient fading out at her extremities if that's possible.  And fangs and elf ears and metallic eyes.

"Does it harsh her vibe if all I'm actually doing with the glitter is tattooing her? I didn't see any of 'em with literal tattoos."

"Give me a moment to look at some pictures of glittery tattoos from your tech level . . . these are fine, she says."

"Oh good." He assembles a virtual version of the body to make sure all the ligaments hook up correctly and displays it for Felicity to verify.

There are some requested tweaks (different proportion on the legs, slightly more tapered claws, gradient on the ears) but it doesn't take too long to get final approval.

Then there can be one of those on the next shuttle out.

The rest of the batch mostly only wants the sort of changes Cam's already made, although someone's really concerned about the type of clothes he's putting everyone in?  What are they made of?

He has been putting everybody in 100% cotton robe things.

Okay perfect.

The elevator riders land and receive contacts, earbuds, tablets, and directions to the museum.  Cam can get the requests sorted for the next few batches of resurrectees before the next one arrives; some people are picky about various things but Felicity can do most of the legwork especially now that she has access to stronger omnilol.

And then the next one arrives, including a very sleepy and undistressed person who isn't really capable of fitting into a conventional wheelchair.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, everybody. You figuring out walking okay on those?"

There's a chorus of hellos and a crowd of Felicities to help wheel everyone out.

"Hmmm.  No," she murmurs from where she's lying, looking much cozier down there than the first group's Floor Guy.  "The chamomile is quite effective."  Her accent matches the sharp-gooey one Felicity demonstrated earlier.

"I'm glad it's helping! Good luck on tottering around once you've slept off the being rezzed."

"Mmhmm.

Do I have to move so you can use the shuttle again?"

"Yeah, do you want me to put you on a cart or something?"

"Hm, I'll try . . ."  She sits up, a little laboriously.  "Yes, that may be faster.  Please."

Cam grows a cart under her and hands her a remote control for it.

She makes a surprised little noise, stares at the controls for a solid few seconds, and passes the remote back up to Cam before making a nest out of her arms and resting her face in it.  She says something muffled enough that it takes a moment to parse as "Friends don't let friends drive" [still unintelligible] "resurrected."

"Understandable." He pilots her into the receiving building.

"Hmmmm," she interrupts along the way, propping herself up on one set of elbows.  "Here's good."  And she shimmies out onto the grass and re-flops, wings sprawling.  One of them thwaps Cam mid-shin.

"...if you're comfy there! Enjoy."