But there's something unutterably pleasant about curling up in a proper bed in pajamas and just sleeping. And then waking up and getting breakfast in those pajamas. So she does that, because immortality's a long unpleasant time if you don't enjoy the little things every now and then. Like adorable bunny slippers and soft pajamas and sleeping in.
She's midway through a fruity salad thing that counts as the standard fairy breakfast when she feels the summon. Showing up to a summon in pajamas? Eh. If they're proper summoners she bets they've seen worse, and she doesn't particularly care if they think she's unprofessional.
She puts her spoon down and accepts the summon.
"Oh, I'm almost certified to do work with my powers. I'll make an impressive amount of money. Most of it's going to be ripped to shreds with Africa, but I'll keep some left over."
"Mhm. First thing I asked for was a lawyer. ... Second thing I asked for. First was coffee."
"Well, aren't you all villainous. If I didn't know better I'd say I've had an influence on you!"
"Mmhm. And what's your actual, you know, plan? For doing it all, ensuring international cooperation, gaining power, etc?"
"Meanwhile, I make something that actually is for parahumans, and while I'd want them to do things like protecting my territory and helping with infrastructure - patrols for everybody's a stupid decision. Waste of time to demand that, say, Tinkers patrol. Maybe if they need something to do, but I do not want to make a system that is distant and awkward, parahumans need special attention. If I can manage it, I want to make a sense of community and teamwork, and have people actually. You know. Matter, personally.
"I want to focus on making something stable, efficient, and something that'll get me lots of money to throw at my budding new country, staff, and projects I want to accomplish. Taking all of the resources the current warlords have acquired, doing my own jobs for ludicrous amounts of money, building factories and hiring workers on the cheap will help, but I am going to chew through money like nobody's business. The place cannot be a black hole I keep flinging money at, it has to be able to eventually sustain itself."
Pause.
"Is this the sort of thing you meant when you wanted specifics?"
"Why not throw in the manufacture of the Elixir of Life and maybe the Panacea while you're at it?"
"I won't have any infrastructure to make any Elixirs of Life or Panaceas for a long while," snorts Morgan. "But hey, if I see a recipe for either, I'll make sure they're published and mass produced by someone else."
"That was meant to imply general skepticism about your likelihoods of success, at least in the real foreseeable future." Pause. "But the idea of helping you out with that is actually interesting."
"I'm likely to accept any help that doesn't come with the price of 'Let me eat the faces of fifty babies,' or the like."
"But! We do need to actually work out a plan for that so it doesn't just seem like I have smuggled you out of the country for my own nefarious purposes."
"...well, would waiting work? I mean if you became a warlord and then like one or two months later I vanished from here and mysteriously appeared there?"