Summary:Mari and T'Challa visit the disaster zone Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The upset at McCabes catwalk event has been all over the media. It's been over twenty four hours though and it's starting to die down. What isn't, is the effect on the stock market. The loss of value for the public of shares was minimised by Mari's quick thinking but it's still a loss and there's rumours.
Today though, the ex-model has a 'tour' of the Disaster Zone and she's just been picked up by T'Challa. Or at least, just slid into the back seat of the vehicle he's sent. If he's been paying attention, he'll know of the upset. It's also possible he's been contacted by potential partners about it. Such is the way of business, after all.
The roads into the Disaster Zone are all blocked, not that tis is generally a problem because INSIDE the disaster zone they tend to be blocked in much more dramatic fashions. By, you know, rubble. T'Challa is paying attention though and as they emerge on the other side of the roadblocks he glances over at her.
"I heard about the incident. Is all well?" By which he means 'as well as it can be'. There are several aid workers, some of them borrowed from Wakandan interests. The stuff they have is mostly food, some clothing. There hadn't been time for much else and that's less about getting the goods than getting the permits.
"I am told there is something of a squatters camp that way." He murmurs. This had not been publicized so there won't be cameras.
Yet. It's inevitable that someone will find out.
Mari is uncertain how publicity the Wakandan prince actually draws. He certainly likes to live 'high' and that in itself draws some interest. As for his status? Well, that's unclear.
"I'm in fire fighting mode but we're weathering it." Mari murmurs. There's not a indication that she was actually involved in the scrap yesterday, though there's some wonderful photo's and video's of her facing down some of the security team for the event. The model crouched behind her doing something to the male model on the floor. "My competitors are looking to make hay though and that's a worry."
She's thinking, he can see it, as they progress through the zone. "What do you know about possession?"
"Oh, yes. I suppose you could it that, a squatters camp. People have used what they can of the buildings down that way and taken materials to create temporary accomodation." She's thinking T'Challa is likely to be judging at the moment. He'd be right to. What's happened here is a travesty.
"Possession? As in, by demons or spirits? Wakandans have stories about it as does everyone else. I am not so quick to dismiss them, so much as others. The world is full of many strange things, after all. Why do you ask?"
At the moment T'Challa isn't drawing much publicity but that likely can change very quickly.
Up ahead they can see a building that has cloth over the windows. It's in bad shape but it looks like people are living there. Some are milling around outside it. It's still quite distant so they have a bit of a walk to get there. These people are within view of the city outside this zone and yet live here. Do they choose that? Or…
"Such a shame that a nation so wealthy with a people so generous to others can have its own reduced to this." He murmurs quietly.
"Yes, just that." Mari answers, gauging the response of the Wakandan as they move. "It seems that someone who considers themselves my competitor has been able to summon … imps that affect people. The incident yesterday, the male model had been possessed or so says the young woman who ended up besting him. I really have no reason not to believe her and yet …"
The condition of the area doesn't fill Mari with joy. It's rather depressing and not the least, worrying. Do they choose to live here? That's what the stories say - is it true? Mostly, she thinks, though there must be some who wish to leave but simply can't.
"I can't but wonder if it's a reminder of what our hate and fear can bring and no one is truly ready to face that." Why had it taken for a man like T'Challa to remind her of this? That's something that Mari is going to struggle with for a while. "Shall we enter the building? Or keep moving?"
"Imps. As in… demons?" That's curious and more than a little alarming. T'Challa slows and looks at Mari. "What exactly is the appropriate corporate response to demon possession?" Because he doubts that's in the employee manual somehow. And who do you even go to in order to fix something like that.
"We should at least talk to the people. But let them get food first." He motions to the workers to go forward. His attention seems to be drawn off to the side, toward several piles of stones. They have crosses above them, some of them. They're not big enough to be proper graves or cairns. They may be something more like… memorials.
"These people have suffered greatly." He says with a shake of his head. "I have seen as bad or worse in other places in the world. I never dreamed that in the heart of New York…"
He sighs through his nose and heads toward those piles of rocks.
"Why that it was all staged as a publicity event to showcase my line. An event that got a little out of hand." Mari answers. "But just. Imps as in little demons. You know, like the sort that sometimes hang out with gargoyles on top of buildings." She's being a little flippant but he can tell that she's earnest about the demons. "You believe, yes?"
"What happened here, six years ago was unprecedented. The events that led up to it … No one wants to remember how far we had fallen." She can't defend it and won't try. She'll stand on the stage of world opinion to be judged. She's here now and she'll try to fix some of it.
"Memorials, I believe. For those that couldn't be found afterward." For a moment, the dark skinned woman watches the workers as they set up. She and T'Challa will return here soon to help hand out the food. For now, she turns to follow him to those rocks.
"I have seen too many things not to believe, Mari." T'Challa says very seriously. "I have seen far, far too many things."
He leaves that there for the moment. What, exactly, has he seen? He does not say. But whatever it was he is not convinced that the material world is all there is.
"There must have been a great many. When the city shook and the buildings tumbled, those who were crushed would have been the easiest to find. Others would have been vaporized. Or fled into places from which they did not return…"
He kneels down to look at the rocks and for a moment, just for a moment, she sees his eyes glow a pale blue-green.
"Then it is good you do, because I need help." Mari admits, watching the Wakandan as he moves. Clearly she does though she doesn't say why either. Then again, he's seen her power, so there's that.
"I'm sure, T'Challa that there are still those who were covered in rubble so deep that they couldn't be recovered. But yes, vaporised or fled into the tunnels beneath the city to meet their fate. Some of those might still be alive and not know who they are."
Being close when he kneels, she does to. It's respectful sometimes to follow others customs. The glow in his eyes has her looking a little closer. She might have imagined it, but wasn't that similar to the colours she'd from his penthouse a few nights ago?
Very similar. T'Challa looks up at Mari after a moment. his eyes are completely normal but… there WAS something there.
"And then the living are left behind to fend for themselves. We should talk to them, soon. Get their stories. Find out their needs. But not yet. We do not want them to think this is a… publicity stunt. The publicity will surely benefit us, and them, but they need to trust us. They need to believe that their wellbeing is our primary concern."
That should not be hard. For Mari it probably is.
What had she seen. The ex-model meets T'Challa eyes in question. Not one that she voices so he'll probably ignore it. "Were you praying?" is what she asks instead.
"It's hard to be left behind. To not know what has befallen your loved ones." Mari murmurs. "I agree, we should bide our time and let them see we only mean for them to benefit." She turns back to where the food is being distributed. She want to go and help. Remove her jacket and 'roll her sleeves up' so to speak. She doesn't though. T'Challa is right.
"I'm going after the one who caused the riot yesterday." she says quietly as they stand there. "I have her scent, I should be able to track her in the city. If I find her, I'm going to need someone who can help me. I could call the girl who helped yesterday, I suppose."
She's not sure if there's anyone who might help. All she knows is that Rivera must be stopped.
"There is possibly that." He'd read some of the newspaper reports. "But there are many heroic types in the city. I wish you luck whatever you decide."
Luck. Well. Sometimes a person makes their own luck. And T'Challa might possibly… follow her.
"Praying. After a fashion. I wished to show my respect to the departed." It's a bit more than that she can be sure. But how much more? He's being a bit cagy about that.
"You said you ran into a hero in here whom you helped? Perhaps she might return the favor." Or she might need more help. He is rather curious about the rainbow girl and does indeed want to track her down.
Hopefully sans sentinel.
"I'll see who I can find." Mari answers quietly. It's bothering her that Rivera did this. More that there people were hurt in the attempt. "I've arranged payments for the people that were hurt during the incident. I'm not publicising that of course. It's the least I could I do. As for the girl who helped, Voodoo she called herself, I have her number and I'll make payment to her as well."
"Tell me about your customs, T'Challa. How you show your respect. For me, it's a prayer, an impeachment to the Anansi to care for their souls."
"Gabrielle, she called herself and I've not seen her since. I came looking the other day, after we spoke but couldn't find her. The Zone is big though, so I'm not surprised. I'll keep looking though. She had an interesting power - it was … colour based. "
"Colors? That is a curious power…" T'Challa says as he rises.
"We reflect on the bravery of those lost, on the life that they have lived. And in my clan we offer up a prayer to the Panther Goddess to shepherd their souls to a better place."
A panther goddess is it? Curious. That's not commonly known about Wakanda though he did say it was for 'his clan'. Though who knows how large it is. Or if other clans do the same.
"Is there no authority you can appeal to for magical problems? No one who… polices that kind of thing?"
"Light based, I suspect. Not that I asked. Being able to modulate the frequency of light to achieve things. I might be wrong …"
A Panther goddess, now isn't that interesting. "Is it just your clan that worships the panther goddess?" Mari thinks on who that might be. "Does Wakanda not have one unified religion?" She's curious, if nothing else.
T'Challa asks a good question and she nods slowly. "Not like that exactly but there is one I might seek out. Doctor Strange has something of … reputation … in that regard. Perhaps I'll pay him a visit."
"Not per se, no." T'Challa shakes his head. "The state does not mandate one and while the Panther Goddess is popular she is not universal." There is a significant exception, after all.
"Strange. I have heard that name. He may help. There may be others. I apologize that I cannot be much assistance there. I do believe but that belief does not come with power. Still if you fended them off once perhaps you have enough time. Do you know what the… motivation was?"
"Why would you apologise for that? I appreciate you offering advice and listening to me." Mari is grateful. "Rivera, that's her name, was someone who worked for as a designer come seamstress some time ago. She didn't work out - her ideas nor her skill. Jealously perhaps? Revenge for a lost opportunity?" Mari shakes her head. "Maybe one of my competitors is funding her, causing instability in my company. Why does anyone do anything? When I find her, I'll be sure to ask."
"So you're clan, what do you call it?, worships the Panther Goddess. What do the other clans worship then? I'm curious."
"Roughly translated, it is called the Golden Tribe. It is the tribe from which the first Wakandan kings descended and the tribe which has retained the kingship the most. Four other tribes worship the panther goddess. A fifth - well, sixth if you count the Golden Tribe - holds to another god and other ways."
The relationship between the Jibari and the rest of Wakanda is… strained at best.
"There are other gods though. The White Ape. The Lion. The Crocodile. All but the Panther and the Ape are generally forgotten these days."
"And this is why you are … were … King of Wakanda? You are of the tribe that first Kings descended? No, that's not right. Your sister and you were talking about ritual combat and a challenge. It sounded like there were other tribes that might contest it."
Mari gives T'Challa some space as she watches the workers distribute food, clothing and blankets. She'd like to help but it's probably counterproductive right at the moment. There are people though, starting to come out from the buildings and 'tents' that have been set up. That's something at least.
"I was king because I won the challenge. But I was favored because of my birth. I had, after all, prepared for that challenge all of my youth so that I might take the throne like my father before me and his father before him. Indeed, in some cases the other tribes choose not to challenge. However, you are correct. They can. And sometimes tehy do."
T'Challa also watches the aid-giving as it proceeds.
"It is an old ritual, but my people still value a display of the strength of any leader and their ability to overcome adversity personally in difficult circumstances. It is perhaps of less direct value than it used to be but the tradition is important to us all the same. Shuri will face the same trial if she chooses to pursue the throne."
"I still wonder what makes a man give up a throne." Mari shakes her head, stretching a little. "Whatever it was, I get the feeling it's not something you did lightly. You are still clearly in service to your country and have deep feelings about it." Mari doesn't. Not for her country of birth. Not like that anyway.
"Shuri will face this M'Buka? He is from another tribe, isn't he? Or is it a 'she'?" there's a little teasing there as Mari considers it all. "The process over there seems to be going well. Did you want to walk some more?"
"If he is a good king, then the good of his people will outweigh any notion of power. It is not an easy thing of course. But in the end I would have done anything for the good of Wakanda, and I did. What I gave up spared my people other problems down the line. If I must lose my crown to safeguard the nation, then that is what must be."
But WHY? Why T'Challa might accept that is clear but why would it be necessary in the first place?
"Actually yes. Let us come this way and around the camp. See what else can be seen."
From here it's just a lot of rubble.
"You've said that and still I wonder, T'Challa. Were you caught in a scandal with a beautiful young model?" She's teasing of course " There's so little known about the man. Social media feeds, publicity are sorely lacking "Or was it divorce? Like the British Crown?" She watches his reaction, hoping he'll give her a least a faint smile.
"One day, I hope you'll know me and trust me enough to tell me." She'll leave it. People have their reasons, she knows that and, for now, it has no bearing on anything. Except her damned curiousity.
"I'm glad I wore my walking shoes, then. That looks like it might be slightly tough going."
"I have not yet been caught in a scandal with a beautiful young model, though I may be tempting fate a little." T'Challa smiles back. "And no, I did not have a queen. There was no divorce." In a system where the line doesn't always pass down to children, children are not quite the necessity. Though having other members of the family handy certainly is.
The route T'Challa takes is out and around. He's taking a wide circle and peering into the Disaster Zone as best they can.
"It is hard to believe that anyone would choose to live here." He says quietly. "Or risk dying here…"
"I can introduce you to beautiful young models if that's the fate you wish to tempt." It can't be her he's referring to, ex-model that she is. "Ah well, I will conjecture more then, won't I?"
Walking beside the taller man, Mari keeps her silence for a moment. "You really want to understand don't you? I'm … not sure anyone can, T'Challa."
"What drives people to such lengths to invoke laws against those who are different? Some say it's fear, and it likely is. But that is what keeps people in here, I'm sure. Fear of how they might be received out there." She gestures "And I can't say I blame them. We don't have a good track record in that regard."
"Or is it just fear that if they live the little they have, they'll have nothing at all?" Many of them of course lack IDs or any ways to prove that they are who they say they are. No ID, no bank records, no access to anything they used to have. Nothing.
"Is it fear of disappearing? Fear of being erased? Or fear of moving on? Fear of leaving the ones they lost behind? Being afraid that if they leave, those people are truly gone?"
There are many forms fear can take. As they round a bend about some rubble and lose sight of the squatters camp, little multicolored light motes begin to swirl ahead of them. And then… swarm.
"Why can't it be all those things, T'Challa? They're all valid. For years they, we, lived with registration and the environment that created. They built lives here, they lost love ones here and if they move on they'll lose them. And they'll have nothing with no guarantee that life will be any different to what it is now. They need hope."
As the lights start to form, Mari looks around for Gabrielle. Not seeing her, she glances at the Wakandan. Strangely she doesn't react as if they have hostile intent - she probably should be for the moment she … waits.
"It may well be all those things." T'Challa slows as he sees what's happening and stops. He holds his arm out slightly to the side. And when it begins to coalesce his eyes narrow. "Mari, be very careful here."
It finishes coalescing into a young man. A ghost of a young man.
"You… why are you here, foreign king?"
Mari stops before T'Challa's arm touches her, looking very curiously at the Wakandan indeed. "What is it, T'Chal—-" She blinks as the lights coalesce. "Who … are you?" she asks the ghost carefully.
Even as brave as she is, the ex-model moves closer to the mans side, stepping back a little and taking a defensive position. The message is clear. She'll fight if she has to, even if she's no idea how to be effective against a ghost.
"He recognises you, at least." She murmurs.
"In life I was Evan…" The ghost says. It's voice is distant and echo-y. He looks dirty. Ill nourished. The shirt he wears is stained with blood. "Now… I do not know. An echo of Evan perhaps. Or maybe this is hell, this twilight wandering without purpose or end."
He looks at T'Challa. "There are others. They whisper that you have come. The Foreign King."
"I am no longer king of Wakanda." T'Challa says.
"But you are the King of the Dead. But not our king. Not here. Have you come to conquer? Is that why you bring the Vixen with you, to call the spirits of nature to do her bidding?"
"King of the … Dead…" Yes, Mari got the capitalisation. T'Challa might feel her intense look in his direction. "I bring nothing against you, Evan. Particularly not at T'Challas' request. I have come to see how we might help the living. However … it looks like you might help as well."
Conquer? She's no idea what's going on, but she's not some frivolous girl to ask too many questions at this point in time. Later perhaps.
"Is this why you were interested in haunted New York? The next question is, to go to those places or to avoid them."
"The dead are different wherever you go. I wished to know what was spoken of them so that I might deal with them better." T'Challa says without looking behind him. "I told you that my duties had brought me here. The dead are those duties. What has happened here recently echoes out and has implications for the entire world - living and dead."
King of the Dead. That does not sound like a ceremonial title. But since he was called 'foreign king' it's also clearly not universal.
"What would you have of us, Foreign King?" The ghost asks.
"I would have you rest that you not disturb the living."
The ghost laughs and it is not a pleasant sound. "The realms draw close. What is now for the living will not always be."
King of the Dead. Mari goes cold for the moment and she shivers. The implications of that run through her head. It takes a long moment before she says anything more "You did not say what those duties were, T'Challa. You can't be surprised that I'm surprised." it's quiet and entirely reasonable as the woman processes the information.
Her questions for him can wait till later. If she wants to ask them at all.
"What do mean, Evan?" It's natural how she uses the ghosts name. "That the realms draw close? Are you talking of the curtain, the veil, between worlds? And do you not wish to rest? To end your wandering in the twilight without purpose or end?"
"I speak of the dead rising up to claim the world of the living. I speak of the end. The end of all things. The end of the living. When there shall be only death and silence and the wind wailing among the ruins of what was." Evan is remarkably talky and T'Challa's eyes narrow.
"I am not surprised that you are surprised. I had hoped for a gentler introduction to the concept." Or you know. Not introducing her to it. 'Hi, I'm king of the dead. But only some of them. Not the ones here.'
"The dead are not made for this, Evan. To rest. To depart."
"You cannot stop us. Foreign King…"
"Armageddon or the like? And is that what you want, Evan? To reclaim this sorry world for yourselves? Surely this is more beyond the veil for you. What will you accomplish by having all dead? Did you have family here, Evan? Are they still alive?"
She has to be careful, Mari knows that. Not that Mari is all that familiar with these types of spirits.
"We will talk later, you and I, about gentler introductions to concepts." It might be almost amusement that colours her tone. It would be really, if she didn't think this might turn bad.
"Can you stop them?"
"I may, perhaps." T'Challa says quietly before straightening up. They will clearly talk later. He can't blame her this is kind of a bombshell to drop on her.
The ghost steps forward. It's form warps as it does, becoming more gaunt and more aggressive. Fangs. Claws. A skeletal face. "I hunger for life. And if I must rip it from this world then so be it…"
T'Challa steps slightly in front of Mari but not all the way.
"You do not want to fight me, Evan. But I will send you your rest myself if I must."
Evan looks past T'Challa at Mari. "She is full of life. I could almost feel what it is to BE again with her…"
T'Challa owes Mari nothing. They will talk but if he chooses not to answer then that is how it will be. Still, the ex-model is putting on a good front, she thinks.
"You would take from the living." Mari swallows as the ghost changes form. He'd asked if she would send nature's spirits after them - is it some protection perhaps?
"I'm too scrawny to eat." The dark skinned woman quips, calling her two favourite spirits to her - the rhinoceros for its hide and the ape for its strength.
"Are you not full of life, T'Challa?"
"Life took from us. Now we shall take it back." The ghost stalks forward. "Oh you're perfect. I could hollow out the life force within you and then fill it with myself. It would be a change from my last body but…"
BOOM.
Something flickers into T'Challa's hand and he slams the ghost with it. It's a spear. A glowing spear made out of pale purple energy. It's strike sends the spirit flying back but it's soon up again and trying to slip around T'Challa and get to Mari.
"You told me you weren't familiar with possession…" Mari raises an eyebrow at T'Challa at the ghosts commentary. That's not exactly what the ghost meant, but as an approximation it's not bad.
The ex-model flinches at the sound, stares at the spear for a long, long moment before shaking herself. "Oh, you're the most fun date ever." She tells the Wakandan. "Can I hit it? Evan I mean, not the spear? Like is it corporeal enough for me to land a blow or will I be hitting at air?"
She's planning, thinking. A bit unusual for her fighting style but she doesn't intend to become ghost food.
Moving to keep T'Challa between her and the ghost until he responds "And I don't plan on crossing any streams, either."
"Empowered by your spirits, you should be able to hit it." T'Challa says, striking out again. The spear is not a long one. It's reminiscent of an iklwa from South Africa. A short haft with a broad bladed warhead. When the Wakandan Prince strikes again it sends the ghost stumbling. Clearly it's somewhat disruptive to the thing's ability to remain corporeal.
"This is a date now is it?" It has to be a date really for this to be a fun date.
"Sometimes you need to cross the streams but I do not think we are there yet."
"Well, I am that. Try not to hit me with that thing. It looks like it might hurt." She's referring to that glowing spear. Mari watches the momentum of the to and fro between the two - the ghost and the King. When T'Challa hits again, Mari moves. She's not a classically trained fighter, she's a scrapper and it shows.
She punches hard and doesn't think about how the 'form' might look. She likes to get fights finished quickly if she can.
"Oh well. I should have said meeting, shouldn't have I." She manages to quip. "You'd have to take me to dinner and dancing for it to be a date and for me to make that statement correctly."
"Crossing the streams are bad and if I'm not mistaken, you don't have a ghost trap with you … Or do you?" Another punch as Evan comes in at her.
"I do not prefer to trap ghosts. I prefer to send them on, or make them behave." When Mari moves to engage directly T'Challa moves behind Evan. He IS trained and it shows. He knows how to use the weapon he is holding very very well. Classically trained? Not what Mari would think of that perhaps but well enough yes.
His next strike forces Evan to his knees.
"Mari. Finish him."
"You and me. We're going to watch some movies. Good old fashioned ones. Or at least, ones for the 90's." Mari quips, she's puffing a bit. Fighting isn't effortless for her, even with her spirits helping - it takes a toll.
T'Challa will have to forgive the spirit caller for not noticing his expertise and form with that weapon. She has to skip out of the way of Evans next attack - which distracts the spirit, leaving him to wakandans tender mercies.
"Finish … him. Right." Another silhouette forms, sitting on Mari's shoulder this time. A Badger. Which gives her really sharp claws that she uses to rend the spirits throat. She really, really hopes that what T'Challa meant. He's not seen her fight like that before.
"I did not think there were any good movies from the 90's." T'Challa smirks. When Mari dugs her claws in the spirit just unravels. Comes apart is if it were a badly knitted sweater. In seconds it is no more and the dark skinned prince relaxes. His weapon disappears.
"Well. That was disturbing. I imagine now that you are wondering if I wanted to come back here and see if I could find any ghosts. The answer is yes. This place roils with restless dead and it is very, very disturbing."
"Oh. Movie snob. I get it." Mari loves some of the 90's movies. "Well, I still think you should see some." Her nose wrinkles in displeasure as the spirit seems to just dissolve around her claws. It takes a moment for the three glowing silhouettes to disappear - then it's just her, standing there, breathing heavily.
"You are a master of understatement. You know that, right?" she looks at the dark skinned King. "Is this why you wanted to come in here, in the first place?" She doesn't think so, but it's certainly convenient. "We can keep coming in here, if that's what you need to do. I'll be sure to bring a knife or something next time and to be a bit quicker, should my … abilities … be needed."
"I have mastered many things in my time. As a king, understatement is a very important diplomatic tool." Okay, now he's teasing. The smile he's got says he is. Suuuure he's mastered many things.
"It was not the only reason I decided to come here. Though it was certainly convenient that my humanitarian urges, my business needs and my duties all aligned."
Coincidence? Probably not. He knew what his duties were. He just chose to make some good out of them.
"Of course you have." It's a dry comment Mari comes back with. She stretches and checks her knuckles. There's a small amount of grazing, a little bleeding here and there, nothing she hasn't had to deal with in the past. In her bag, in the car, she has cream.
"Well that's a happy set of coincidences, don't you think? When all three align. Some people spend a lot of time arranging things so that can happen." Any dryer and it would be a desert around here.
She's about to say more when she stops herself and looks at the King of the Dead "Are you ok, T'Challa? I should check that before giving you more of a hard time."
"I am unhurt. I am slightly disturbed that the first encounter here was a hostile one. That does not bode well for how the rest of the ghosts here will behave." He's already thinking to the next encounter. Because there will be a next encounter.
"Some people do have to spend a lot of time at that. It's the kind of forethought and planning someone used to leading a nation might know." Is the dry response.
"I think we have seen enough of this rubble pile for now though. Do you wish to go talk to the people at the camp? Perhaps we can get a sense of what it is they really need."
"Well that's something. And I suppose it something the leader of a nation, or the ex leader, might know." beat "So we're coming back in here for this, then?" We're, not you. The two of them.
Flexing her fists, letting the skin stretch and pull, Mari nods. "I think that would be wise, T'Challa. To speak to the people. It's a fine balance we have to find but to just bring in supplies and not engage, I don't believe that's the best course of action."
"No. We want them to believe we care. And part of that is talking to them. Just… not in a way that seems like we have an ulterior motive. Or at least… not one that they will object to anyway." T'Challa says.
"Well, shall we? We will indeed becoming back here. There are people to help. And this… place of death is a place I am very interested in."
They will. Go and talk to the people.
Any other discussions can wait till later. If they're had at all. For now though, they've a common cause and that is enough. Besides, Mari's got some hunting of her own to do.
"