Summary:Mari is hunted by Rivera still. T'Challa, Clint and Emma help set things up Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Clint Barton has been given a brief. Mari McCabe, aka Vixen, is having problems with someone who is stalking her. The nature of the problem is rooted in the supernatural but it's expression is so very, very human.
In the name of a woman called Molly Rivera.
Through his contacts, Clints got a lead on the woman and has managed to trace her, track her?, to here.
A low key event in the garment district of New York where Mari, T'Challa and Emma have converged. Mari has a line on display here as well as teasing the new additional to her offerings.
Wearable Tech.
Molly Rivera, is a guadily dressed woman who is lingering to the side of the room. She's managed to avoid being seen by Mari or the others - there's a lot of people here but she's giving the ex-model the *evil eye* as she moves to stand by the organiser.
The Shield Agent known as Clint Barton cleans up rather well. Maybe he drew this assignment because of that small bit of charity work he did for the Avengers when he went to that White Elephant auction for the Policeman's Ball, or perhaps some of his handlers just liked the idea of keeping him working in environments where he actually has to, you know, shave.
In all fairness, however, Clint when he's dressed up cuts a rather dashing silhouette. Not exactly the tuxedo he wore at the other event, but black suit and tie, grey button-down shirt, black leather shoes. A nice ensemble if unimaginative for this crowd. He stands around the edge of the crowd, somewhat behind Ms. Rivera.
On the comms he mentions, « Eyes on Rivera. She's wearing the golden pineapple crazy hair… thing. » Not exactly one with an eye for fashion.
Emma arrives driving her own car for once, not being driven in her fancier cars, nope, not today. She wants to stay low key, to match the event. Of course - 'Low Key' for Emma frost is a bit higher key than for many, the car she's driving is a 2020 Tesla roadster, white of course. Pulling up front, she allows he valet to hand her out as the gullwing door opens up, and she extends a long long leg outward.
Her clothing is rather eye catching. She's in a shoulder-less gown of clingy white lace that is extremely sheer. The lace forms interlocking patterns in the weave that is reminiscent of fish scales, and fans out to hang in elegant folds at the knees. The woman's hair is worn up, today, elaborately braided to form a crown of pale blonde. Diamond earrings dangle, and a matching bracelet. All in all it is quite a striking outfit.
She smiles when she sees Mari & T'Challa, leaving her car in the care of the valet. "Prince T'Challa, Mari, good to see you both."
Clint, alas, she's not met yet, though that might be changing soon!
Barton knows and has worked with T'Challa before and IMPORTANTLY he knows that his other identity is separate from his present public one. Which is a good thing because the people he's presently associated with proooobably don't know about that bit. And how would they react to finding out? Well? Or Poorly?
Either way the Prince has his hands clasped behind his back and is admiring something in that way that people do when they're waiting for something to happen. He is not far from Emma and Mari and that is by design. With Rivera here, things are a little tense.
Copy that, Agent Barton. Does she look apt to commit more than crimes against fashion?
"Miss Frost. Mari. Always a pleasure. Have you met the man running our security detail, Miss Frost? Fine, upstanding agent."
Well, Clint IS a fine Agent. Upstanding?
Mari is dressed in exquisite detail. A simple dress with splashes of colour that are reminicent of Africa. With her dark skin, standing next to the Wakandan, the effect is striking, particularly once Emma joins their little party. The trio certainly draw the eyes.
Which is part of the idea. With Rivera active, they want the woman to believe that Mari is vulnerable, so she'll strike at the 'honey pot' they're planning.
"Emma, it's good to see you." Mari smiles, letting T'Challa take the lead. Even with the expertly makeup, the last of the bruising and grazes are still visible on her body.
Rivera doesn't do more than stand near the organiser. Even to Clints practice eye, she doesn't seem to be doing anything. What he does notice, is the way the woman stirs, looks through the crowd to Mari and makes a bee line towards her - it's like someone flicked a switch on her mood.
Emma will get some of her thoughts - it's hard not too, she's thinking them so loud. McCabe. Always stealing the limelight. This is my event … Time to cut the witch down to size.
Rivera, as Clint watches, moves after her - keeping herself from the trio's line of sight. The crowd about her seems to shift a little, getting up upset perhaps? Could be an upset, if not a riot, if things go wrong.
Barton, for his part, is on duty and making an attempt at professionalism. But he does spare a smile for Emma as he offers the reply, "Ma'am." She might pick up the casual burble of his thoughts, dull as they may be in this particular moment as he's got a focus on security minded matters, gauging ranges, considering possible approach vectors. Being this exposed isn't something he cares for.
And it shows.
Back on the comms he replies, « Not… yet? Wait a sec, she's moving. »
As he says that he'll give a small nod that'd pass as an apology though offered silently. He checks his watch on his wrist as he seems to pretend to take his leave, advancing a few steps and then pausing to examine that watch, stepping casually into the sight-line between Rivera and Mari.
"I have not had the pleasure, your highness, no." Emma's cool blue eyes study Clint as she's introduced in a manner of speaking and she's definitely scanning the thoughts of those around her, albeit only the surface thoughts. She was informed this is a potentially dangerous situation, and so she intends to be on her alert. A smile to his brief 'ma'am', and then she lets him do his job.
With Mari's smile she turns. "Ah, Mari, good to see you as well. A nice little show." She offers off handedly.
It is the sudden thoughts of menace that draw Emma's gaze to the woman with the 'golden pineapple crazy hair… thing', and her gaze narrows. It is nearly effortless as she raises shields over her own mind and those of her companions - Mari, T'Challa and Clint are all protected, and it might feel a little — odd. Certainly unlike anything they're likely to have felt before.
A smile to Mari and T'Challa, the words pitched carefully so Clint will hopefully hear as well. "Mari, remember that thing we were working on? That…meditational technique? Well, I hope you don't mind, I have taken a liberty here and engaged something of the sort on our behalf, and that of your friend."
Keen senses extend, and she seeks a sense of the 'psychic terrain' and what Rivera might be doing.
"I am also moving." T'Challa says motioning Mari and Emma to come with him. Clint is here to handle real security. The Wakandan Prince is here mostly to provide helping hands and a secondary target. This woman is sick, and it's probably best to play to her expectations if they want her to do what they need for this plan to work.
Just so long as none of them get killed in the process. That's the key part, really.
"Be ready for the crowd to turn hostile, Agent Barton." T'Challa says. "This woman appears to have some ability to manipulate people's emotions. Why you would do that and not just make people love your product is beyond me, but she may not be very smart."
"Let me know." He murmurs to Mari and Emma. "If you sense anything… otherworldly."
Odd thing for him to say. Mari knows why. Emma may not.
"Remember, the idea is to let Rivera think I'm vulnerable, draw her to a battle ground of our choosing." Mari says quietly, absently touching T'Challa's arm - for comfort or reassurance perhaps, as they start to move off.
As Emma's shield extends, Mari nods and lets out a breath. "It's unlikely she'll attack me directly. Clint might get some of it, she might try you Emma. Not T'Challa, perhaps but she'll want to wound me deeply with that." beat "Thank you. Be sure to let us know if your … technique…" but T'Challa covers it.
Mari's been thinking on it, clearly.
As Clint steps between them, he's jostled by the organiser and the people around who are … unsettled. The organiser is a tall, leggy blonde - who he might think looks a bit like his ex wife. "Miss McCabe. How nice of you to be here. I trust all our accomodations to your … requests … were met."
Mari sighs. Anger and resentment. That's what Emma will get. The mental discussion she's having is about how unreasonable McCabe was. It's strange though, the things she's listing off over and over are minor things. Things that nearly every other designer in the room would have requested.
"But do tell me who your charming companion is …" If it wasn't for the shield that Emma extends, Clint would be being hit with the desire to … flirt with the woman.
T'Challa is definitely that target of that attack from Rivera though.
Likely, Emma would realize that desire of Clint's would be there in any case, but perhaps not quite as compelling. Then again that desire exists there for Emma. And for Vixen. And that redhead over near the potted plant. And that one gal who parked his car, she was kind of cute.
But he maintains that professional visage and he apologizes with an open smile to those he jostled. "Oh, pardon me. Terribly rude of me." He'll step back and to the side to make it clear by his offering that angle for them, that he /can't/ possibly be part of security to give them that approach to Mari.
It simply wouldn't be done.
Emma allows herself to be shepherded by the Wakandan Prince. In response to his question, Emma smiles. "Oh, definitely." And then she nods to Mari, and the shields encompassing everyone's mind sort of -pulse-, a sense of Emma's presence clearly palpable, and then her voice with absolute diamond clarity. The voice is her own, just…purer. There's no ancillary sounds like from the environment, no distortion from the air, just her voice. Inside your heads. «I confess, Mari, that my…abilities…are a bit more advanced than I had let on, prior.»
Okay, that's probably not quite what anyone expected. «I have placed the four of us…» A mental image of each person in the link. «…en rapport, we can speak minds to mind in this 'headspace' as if we were all alone in the room.»
Shields and telepathy engage, she gives no outward sign as the leggy blonde comes over, dripping mental vituperation masked by outer smile.
Inside a shared headspace? Clint, well, everyone may detect T'Challa's wonder and slight amusement at that. And perhaps the stray thought of 'bold to let Agent Barton into your head.' Not that the man's dangerous. Well, he is but not like that. More that Barton is… rather bold. Professional to a T when he needs to be but bold all the same.
Physically the look T'Challa gives Barton is almost dismissive. As if he weren't important. In reality he's probably the most vital one here. He's the only one that Rivera will ignore, and thus it's important not to call attention to him.
In any case, it's a good thing that Emma has those shields in place, as it prevents the prince from getting a dose of mental manipulation. Instead he simply bows politely. "T'Challa of Wakanda. I was here to see Miss McCabes marvelous creations. Tell me, are you a fan?"
He's goading. Emma and Mari both know that. Talking Mari up, trying to push her into doing something emotional and rash. Something that will convince her that if she can just arrange things a little better, she'll have Mari right where she wants her.
That's why he's left what looks like a line to Mari open as well. He trusts Vixen to handle herself. And Miss Frost, well he doesn't know much about her, but she seems formidable.
Mari might get the echo's of Clints thoughts on the blonde and the redhead and the girl who parked his car as Emma connects them. «It would seem you did, but I'm not one to chide you for that, Emma.»
"Prince T'Challa, this is Kylie Frommer, the Organiser of this event." Yes, Mari emphasises the title as she does the introduction. Kylie gives Mari a venomous look as she shoulders past her, holding her hand out so he can take - and not to shake it. "Charmed, I'm sure. Miss McCabes creations are fine but if you like, I can show you better." beat "No, I'm not really a fan of hers, though."
Clint can see Rivera frown and the crowd surges a little, restless and unsettled "Hey, watch out you half priced clothes horse." One of those closest to Clint bumps into him. No, he's not important, is he?
Rivera presses into the crowd, letting Mari see her as Kylie coos and gushes more over the Wakandan. Now her smile becomes … toxic.
«Clint, Emma, we we'll want to track Rivera now we have her. When we spring our trap, we want to know exactly where she is.»
In the comms and simultaneously in the shared headspace, Clint's voice comes across. « I'm not sure I liiike this. » And most likely some of his handlers are wondering what exactly he means. But then, relatively quickly, he gets a hang on thinking somewhat firmly if a little too emphatically into the telepathic link.
// OH HELLO. YES IT IS I, HAWKEYE. HELLO. // As an image of a polar bear in a snowstorm seems to appear in place of his own. Since well, the whole sharing thoughts is not something he's hugely comfortable with.
That said he does turn and pursues towards one of the waitresses who is carrying a lovely tray of champagne. He attempts to halt her progress right in the way of some of those followers who might be trying to wander with Rivera in support of her case and her emotional manipulation. A small social gambit to try and either get them to escalate, or to be cut off somewhat from seeing what's going on in the coming confrontation.
But then he's bumped into and he affects a blank look of utter confusion, "Pardon?" He asks, mainly playing for tie, "I didn't see you there, what did you say?" Repetition is helpful.
Then on the party line and comms, « Moving after her. T'Challa can take up my slack. Just like always. » Weird how when he's doing his job the self-consciousness on the telepathy slips away.
Strangely, not a hint of what Emma feels is transmitted over the links - at least nothing she doesn't want to send, anyway. Than again, she is the only one here with much in the way (if any) of experience with telepathy. «Well, I am not on the comms system, so it seems reasonable to make sure I could communicate effectively, mm? I can sustain this at up to a quarter mile, so bear that in mind.»
A sense of her amusement does follow.
"Oh, I certainly am, Miss McCabe's work is extraordinary, I might even call her work 'visionary'." After all, one goading is good, TWO is all the better, right? That is how that works of course.
«Thank you for being gracious, Mari.» It should be noted that your mind voices are all /yours/, just without any distortion. «My goodness, this woman's efforts lack subtlety, I wonder if rage is all she is /capable/ of using in an area?» The scorn? That comes through very clearly. «I will help but if she gets beyond my sensing range I might have to drop the links and shields to pursue, and may need someone to protect my body.» The hall?
"She certainly lacks imagination or she would not be goading people into public actions at all. She would be subtly steering them toward her own business." T'Challa notes, very politely dealing with the woman currently gushing over him. Oy. It's nice when they actually mean it. Not so much when it's being manipulated out of them.
Clint's polar bear comes with the STRONG urge from T'Challa to give it a coke. What? Those adverts are classic?
By the way, we will have to discuss your unusual talents a bit later Miss Frost. That COULD be a bad thing but the way he says it, it doesn't seem to be. He's curious.
As Clint moves off, T'Challa does indeed step forward slightly so that he can shoulder check a rush if it happens. He glances at the two women he's with. Is there a way to knock Kylie out of this?"Charmed, Kylie. And can you show me better? That would indeed be quite the accomplishment. I have made Mari my primary clothier since I arrived in New York, so impressed was I."
The crowd is getting antsy, Agent Barton. Be careful. I'd hate to have to call my Royal Guard to do crowd control.
Maybe if Rivera leaves they'll calm down. He's got NO doubts at all that Clint can handle getting a tracker on the woman.
«Get a tracker on her if you can, Agent Barton.» Mari blinks at the polar bear and has a hankering for ice cream. One that she shakes away as Kylie moves her out of the way.
Poor T'Challa. If it hadn't been for Emma's shield, it's possible he might have succumb to the manipulation as well.
Rivera's smile is sharp as she pulls back. Seems she's no interest in causing a scene here today. With Kylie throwing herself at the Wakandan, and T'Challa responding so nicely on the surface, her job here is done.
The crowd stirs a little more, blocking the gaudily dressed womans departure. Clint can get a SHIELD device on her easily, though.
Emma feels the 'mood' start to calm. Which leaves Kylie … still gushing. "Of course I can show you better, Prince T'Challa. Follow me and I…." with Rivera's departure, the effect is starting to fade.
The hand off is made, and the shift of priority for Barton is clear. T'Challa has the primary, and he's got the motive element in sight. Responsibilities split, Barton moves to make sure he maintains a sight line at all times with Rivera, but maintains an angle to maintain inconspicuousness.
Across the comms and telepathic line, « If needs be we've got some non-lethal solutions on tap if the crowd gets persnickety. Just you've got the primary. I'll be marginally out of position. »
That said he'll continue that somewhat circular pursuit of Rivera. And when Mari makes the call his voice is heard in brains as well as communications frequencies. « Roger that. »
He'll wait for the perfect moment, a group of three friends stepping past, a server wandering by with a shrimp cocktail, a man slipping out of the way of Rivera's progress. It's then, when she likely shoots a glower that he'll bring a hand around almost casually and sends the small almost transparent plastic square with its insanely thin circuity winging its way across the small distance. The plastic and adhesive giving it a hint of weight enough to be thrown accurately, and once contact is made on the adhesive side the chemical composition melts with the smallest of electrical currents sent through it by the tiny battery and circuitry. Enough that it'll be hard to tell anything happened at all. Just a small silvery after-image of what might be a metal sheen.
That should show up on trackers for a good ways away.
«Hawkeye, continue your pursuit, if the room gets rambunctious I can deal with the crowd.» By herself.
Emma thinks, in fact she's CONFIDENT, she can quell an entire room. Rather than continue to goad Kylie, Emma looks a little faint, and stumbles, coincidentally getting in the way of more of the crowd, even clinging to a stronger looking man. "Oh, I knew that fifth cocktail was a mistake…" She says to probably somewhat flustered fellow - on the one hand 'rage!', on the other 'hot chick clinging'. Tough call which head will get the blood!
Of course Mari and T'Challa have never seen Emma drink anything alcoholic. Not a drop.
T'Challa rolls his eyes at Mari as Kylie keeps gushing. In the interests of not causing a scene he'll proooobably follow. Emma looks like she has the crowd on lock and Mari's in no physical danger.
"Things seem to be calming down here Clint. Get finished and come on back. I'll introduce you properly to Miss Frost." That may or may not bring the man back but hey, it's the least T'Challa can do for such a fine Agent.
T'Challa has the right of it. Kylie looks confused as she manages to step back from the Wakandan. "Please excuse me …" Emma can 'see' she's very confused at the moment. The man that Emma stumbles on, looks stunned but the ploy works, he's distracted from his unease to deal with her.
"Are you alright … Miss?" He asks as Mari steps in smoothly. "Emma, lets get you something to eat, it's been a long day and I'm sure your blood sugar is tanking." Or maybe it was the fifth, non-existent, cocktail.
With Rivera gone, the crowd slowly returns to normal, with a tinge of confusion as to what just happened.