Summary:Mari and Voodoo discuss the fight. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Mari leads the little group upstairs, to the officespace. It's a waiting room with an office on either either side. "Lucille, food for my guests please and get the doctor to see Graydon. He's been through quite an ordeal."
She stop though and gestures for them all to enter her office. It's quite nice, with a reasonable view of the city from the full length and height windows.
"No need to be sorry, 'Karen'. I would like to know what occured down there, though. Would you like something to drink?"
The ex-model reaches into a drawer in her desk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and three tumblers. Graydon isn't asked, he's just passed one and given a seat.
Grayden's face grows puffy in places. The suit did help him in all the places it covered, but full-face hoods aren't in fashion. A far cry from his confident stride on the catwalk, he shuffles along and slumps into a seat, groaning, while he takes the whiskey. It'll be a few minutes before the doctor's arrival, and for now he just rests.
"Water'd be great, if it's no big trouble" 'Karen' answers. She helps Grayden to the sofa and leaves him to take care of himself from there, as she finds a seat of her own. "One moment." she murmurs, and - quite literally, and surely to shock and astound others - reaches behind herself, tugs down the zipper in back, and peels off her bloodied dress, stripping down to the prescribed lingerie assigned to her when she showed up for the rehearsals for the show. Clearly this woman has negligible - if any - body modesty. But stripping seems to have eliminated the blood she was covered with.
OK, OK. So what was on her skin she made disappear with shapeshifting, rippling her skin to slough it off onto the dress. Your point? Stop making fun of the 'magic'!
'Karen' shrugs a bit, and settles on her own seat now that she's not schmearing blood everywhere. "The basics? That woman apparently has some talent to invoke curses, which bind projective empath 'imps', tiny non-corporeal creatures, to targets. She latched one onto Grayden here, focused on aggression. Then everyone around him was subjected to aggressive urges, and anyone who touched him tipped over into outright violence. I … peeled the imp off and banished it." For lack of better terminology.
But hey. Mari asked.
"I can do water." As Karen starts to strip down, Mari lifts an eyebrow. "Shall I ask for a robe to be sent in?" It's not like models don't do that. Backstage gets a bit hectic at time.
Pouring the woman a glass of water from the pitcher she keeps on her desk, Mari considers the answer.
Graydons forgotten for the moment.
"You mean Rivera, yes? The woman in the dated and distasteful outfit?" A hex, or a curse, doesn't seem to surprise her as she thinks. "And she bound .. an imp to poor Graydon here."
"And your talent, isn't modelling, I'm guessing. You knew to be here, didn't you?"
'Karen' shrugs. "If you'd like? I wouldn't say no to the robe." But her tone makes clear she doesn't much care, either. Handed the water, 'Karen' drinks it down slowly but steadily, replenishing from the lost liquids of her earlier wounds.
'Karen' nods when Mari mentions and then describes Rivera. "Yeah, no. My talent is not modeling. I'm a dancer, honestly. Someone else she had cursed showed up at my club, caused a situation even worse than this. I researched that person, found out about this show, and decided to be here if I could, just in case." Good thing, too, right?
Soon enough, Lucille returns with the in-house doctor, who gives Grayden a shocked look at the extent of his above-the-neck injuries. They slip away into another room for the doc to do what he can, but it'll likely end with a hospital visit.
"Is that so." Mari considers the woman as she requests the robe. Lucille will bring that in a moment. Seems it might not be too much of stretch for her people to do these things. "Thanks Doc. I'll be with you shortly." That's to the physician who takes Graydon.
"And you're enhanced in some way. Which is how you managed to weather that attack. Psychic at least, but also physically and a bit of detective to boot." The ex-model shakes her head "I owe you a debt of thanks, at the very least Miss Sage. I'm also assuming that's a pen name you're using. We will need to find Rivera. I have her scent now. My board isn't going to like this, at all."
"How can I repay you?"
Priscilla smiles as Mari makes a few key points about herself. "Yeah. 'Karen Sage' was a 'nomme de guerre'" — wow, she pronounces it as real French, not horribly Americanized - "I assumed for this event. Also, my current shape and face." She doesn't clarify, offering her actual name, or her real appearance. "If you like, you can call me Voodoo."
Pris considers Mari's final question carefully for a bit. This is a rich woman, with connections and abilities; there is so much Pris could ask for from her. And as heroic as she can be, she's not above the simple mercenary aspect of asking for money. But still.
"Repay me?" Pris questions. "Find that bitch, and put a stop to her before someone gets hurt bad enough they can't get better." It sounds so selflessly heroic; but honestly it's just Pris' aspect as an empath; everyone else's agony is as real to her as her own.
"Voodoo? Well that's better than Vixen." Mari responds dryly. "And how might I contact you should I have need of your … services."
The ex-model smiles a little grimly at the request "I intend to try, Voodoo. Is it Rivera though? Or has she been … taken over? Possessed, I suppose one might say. My talents don't run in those directions and whilst I might be able to find her and go toe to toe, I'd rather know what I was up against. It makes things go so much smoothly."
Priscilla makes a face at that, and sighs. "Sorry. Phone's downstairs with my civvies. Toss me yours, I can tap in a number." She has no problem making it possible for Mari to reach her. Mari might decide she hates it, but that's on her.
"I didn't see anything possessing Rivera. She did call up another imp, a blue one, when you confronted her. That's what made the others defend her. As for how she's doing what she's doing? No idea. But I can see it, and I can undo it." Priscilla offers. "If you want help, I'm willing." But she won't impose.
"Here's my phone. It's unlocked." Mari hands over hers so Priscilla can add her number. "I will call on you should I need to."
"Not possessed is something. It means I might be able to take her out long enough for someone else to work out what's going on." The CEO of McCabe Industries is confident in her abilities but she also knows her limitations.
"I suspect I'm going to need some help." beat "For now though, I've a PR mess to clean up downstairs and people that need my attention. Is there anything I can do for you, right now?"
"Just lt me grab my stuff and get out of here. Call if you need me. If I can help, I will." 'Voodoo' offers, and then she wraps that borrowed robe around herself so she doesn't offend the passersby, and heads out behind Mari, heading for backstage and her civvies.