Blue Rose
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Val rubs the back of her neck, feeling even more out of place than before, if that's possible. After all, what do you say to, 'Please don't punch my family?' The fact that the person she just clocked seems the most understanding just makes it weird. "I'm sorry." She meets Tess's eyes as she apologizes, "Things hit a little close to home, and I got out of control." Meeting Vicky and Velocity's eyes is beyond her at the moment, so it's time to busy herself elsewhere. She turns and calls back to her camera crew, "I want all footage of that deleted! No need to air dirty laundry, and dueling PR departments aren't gonna help anybody." She looks to the other camera crew, "That goes to you all, too." Last but not least, she walks up to the plucky girl reporter. "Hey, could you please keep quiet about that bit of unpleasantness? Looks like we've sorted it out, and bringing it back up would really just be unnecessary grief for all involved."
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Why are we burning dinner? But yes, not a good way to make friends, but not something to blow up over.
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Oh, good. I was worried you'd be upset after that. ^^U
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Very sorry for the delay. Work got crazy. To make up for it, I slug the quest NPC right off the bat. GMs love that, right? >.>
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The entire affair leaves Valerie speechless. The crowds, the hype, those she could handle. Those she can play to. But this? All these circuits and quantum whatsits and techy... things. It would make just as much sense if a wizard came in, wiggled her fingers, and made a magic portal. Heck, that would be easier to believe. Even when Vicky talks to her, she's distracted and out of it. She never treats a pretty girl like that! Especially not a fan! But all she can think is that she dropped out of high school at fourteen to play guitar in Central Park. It sends her head swimming and everything seems to process a minute too slow. But something strikes her as odd when they start talking to the pretty brunette. Velocity? Yeah, Velocity, Val's heard of her. This is the first human trial? She's a lab rat? It isn't until Tesla Atom starts talking about Velocity like a thing rather than a person that the world snaps back to. This, she understands. People so lost in their work, their world, their selves that they forget people are people. She clenches her first, but waits for Velocity to finish. She doesn't know what Tesla's doing at that board. It might not be safe to interrupt just yet. But when Velocity stops? Val starts walking, marching her way right up to Tesla. She taps her on the shoulder and wham! One right hook, right in the kisser. "That is NOT how you talk to a lady! She's putting her neck on the line to test your new toy and you can't even be bothered to notice she's a person? What is wrong with you? Someone steps up for you like that, you will treat them with some respect! Now apologize to that poor woman for treating her like a lab rat." With that, she turns and walks away, shaking her head, then takes a cleansing breath, blows a lock of hair out of her eyes that just falls right back, and returns to the group. "I'm sorry you all had to see that." Finally, she walks up to Velocity. "And I'm very sorry I didn't step in sooner. Are you okay?"
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As Tona goes on about her trip, guilt wells up. Tona flew here. Tona flew here. Sam remembers the first time she was with her in a car, and scared out of her mind. It was one of the bigger illusions she'd pulled since she got to Earth to calm her down. Didn't help. If anything, it made it worse. As if that's a surprise. And here she goes again, making things worse all over again, just by being here for... weeks? Has it been weeks? That doesn't seem right? Doesn't matter. Time's not important now. Just have to stay away. She curls up into a ball, tears falling onto her sheets as she whimpers. "I just don't want to hurt you," she says in a squeak only the keenest ears could catch.
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That gets Val's attention. Before Hank can go all angry bear like he is wont to do when something unexpected happens, Val puts a hand up to tell him to wait, then walks up to the stranger. "Excuse me," she calls. "Sorry, we may have to sort through a couple things first." She gestures at a camera hovering behind her. "My producer gets prickly on this sort of stuff. I can promise my lawyers won't get in the way of you using your footage if you can promise the same. We can deal with the paperwork later. Fair?" She offers her hand to shake.
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Behind her door, Sam sits on her bed, watching Soot. He'd decided he didn't want to be petted anymore about an hour ago, and she didn't feel up to arguing. She doesn't react when she hears the rapping on the door. Probably dinner. Whatever. Then, she hears Tona's voice, and curls up against her headboard, the world growing blurry. And not just Tona; Mitsy, too? She can't take it; it hurts to hear them. She draws a breath, the deepest she's drawn in days, "Please... just go!"
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Val blinks. "Well," she takes a moment to process, images of wispy ghosty things bouncing around a circle going kumbaya. "Sounds fun." She slides a finger into one of the bracelets at her wrist and hits a button, activating the hovercam rig which emerges from some crates in a jeep. "Hey, Hank!" she calls back to her producer. "Going on a spirit quest in the desert! Sounds like a stolen holy thing is making angry magic weirdness. Should be some good footage. Work on that helicopter in case that goes badly." Her hand slides into her pocket and, with a flick of the wrist, she produces a full-sized metal staff to use as a walking stick, "Just lemme grab a canteen and we're good to go," she smiles up at Klara. A long way up. Rare to see a woman anywhere near that tall, and built like that? Val's used to being the bigger, stronger woman, with a pretty girl in her arms. The chance to be the pretty girl in those arms? Now there's a rare opportunity. The star only puts a little effort into keeping her unclean thoughts from her face.
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Query. Can Val bring her camera crew, or shall this be strictly drone cinematography?
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Wayward has heard the name "Star Trek," but that's about it. She's on more TV than she's ever watched.
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What are... "plans?"
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If you need a blatant publicity stunt, Wayward is an option.
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"If you are the woman she thinks you are, I know you weren't." The kitchen door opens behind Tona, and a young woman walks in and sets a covered platter on the table. "Thank you, Miss Carter." The young woman nods, and then departs. Instead of reaching for the platter, Talia keeps her attention on Tona, fingers laced. "I do not make a habit of meddling in Samantha's affairs. When she came back, I had assumed that she told you herself, and if not, that she had good reason. I was wrong." She sighs, "I'm sorry. I tried to reach her, I tried to comfort her, to snap her out of it, but comforting is not my strength, and we don't have that relationship. I can only hope you fare better." She lifts the cover off the silver platter, revealing two plates of chicken and rice, as plain and simple as can be, and two glasses of ice water. "If you can get her to eat dinner, that's progress. She's in her room."
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Talia reaches into her pocket and produces a familiar phone in a black case, with a heart, skull, anarchy, and Rainbow Dash sticker decorating it. Sam's phone. She'd been using it to call Tona, after all. The point made, she pockets the phone again. "If it were literal, this would be easy. Samantha is here, Miss Baudin." She pauses at that, ready to stop Tona if she makes a move to go find her. "She came back three days ago. She does not speak unless spoken to. When spoken to, her response is as short and meaningless as possible, if anything. She spends most of her time in her room, on her bed, with the cat until she falls asleep. She barely eats, and even then with coaxing. When asked about what happened, she just holds Soot tighter." Her stoic mask begins to slip as she continues. "I checked the weapon she took with her.It is the magazine she left with, and every bullet is still there. I don't know what happened out there, and quite frankly I don't care, but I cannot get through to her. She needs help, and I can't give it to her. Maybe you can."
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"I suspect she speaks of me as rarely as possible, if at all," Talia corrects. "I have no delusions about our relationship, such as it is." She lowers her hand, accepting the sleight for what it is. "I apologize for the necessity. I need your help. Here. It is about Samantha." Confident she has the girl's attention, she turns to walk out of the foyer. "Please come with me." This isn't Tona's first time in the estate, and the room Talia leads her to is familiar. A smaller dining room, more suited to seating a handful of people than the banquet hall. It's where Sam and Tona ate in the rare instance they actually ate in the estate. A piping hot pot of tea is already sitting on the table, and Talia pours two cups. "I recommend taking a seat," she suggests, suspecting the hospitality won't be well received. "Samantha is here," she says flatly. "Something happened during her mission. I do not know what. She will not talk about it. She will barely talk at all. I cannot reach her, and if I cannot reach her, I cannot help her. I hope that you can."
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The cabbie rolls down the window, "You Antoinette?" asks a round man with a big mustache. "Hop in. Air field, right?" A short burst of overly aggressive driving filled with yelling at talk radio later, they're at an air field where a sharply dressed woman greets Tona and escorts her onto a small jet, who does her best to comfort a nervous flier all the way to Chicago. At their destination, a grim-looking woman waits in a limousine. "Miss Baudin," is the most she says the entire trip. In the end, Tona arrives at stately Vance manor. Though it isn't the first time Tona had been there, the spotless white mansion is always impressive. Snow flurries painting the terrain a matching white only adds to the effect. She is met at the door by a tall, severe-looking woman. Pale skin with piercing dark eyes and angled features framed by short, raven black hair that has kept its color despite the obvious age beginning to creep across her face. She keeps her expression stoic as she looks down at the girl on her doorstep, but all Tona can find in those ares are weariness. "Hello, Miss Baudin. Please come in." She shuts out the cold behind Tona, then offers a businesswoman's handshake. "I am Talia Vance," she introduces herself to the girl in person for the first time. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I had hoped to meet you when Samantha was ready, but it seems circumstances dictate otherwise."
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Might be a good character for Sam and Tona to facepalm over, once Sam's back in play, Rav.
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Val thanks nothing in particular that Hank doesn't snap at the woman. They'd had the honey and vinegar talk before. Good guy, but he can get grumpy in a hurry. "Thank you. We're trying to get to our next show, and we're not entirely sure why we're stopped here." With a gaze around the place, she adds, "Or everyone else, for that matter." She offers her hand with a smile, a black studded leather bracelet flashing in the sunlight. "Valerie Cain." International crowd. Can't guarantee the same level of recognition. And it's good to keep things professional. At least for the first couple minutes. "It's a pleasure Miss-"
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Wayward Beautiful Poetry of the Earth
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Val was never one to fret the fine details when traveling. She can trust her team, and enjoy the ride. Good scenery, nice weather- if you ignore the earthquakes- and a lovely driver. Near as Val can tell, the only words of English she knows are "okay" and "Coka-Cola," so she opts to let Marianne do the talking, taking her seat all the way back to make some room. Her back's probably going to have some choice words with her in forty years for scrunching into such an awkward position, but she's played in worse. She just plucks away across the landscape, idly wondering if her driver's part of the tribe. Some smiles, some body language, some pointed glances, all get a maybe. Or perhaps the music just makes for a better drive. I wonder what her name is? When the team comes to a stop, Val stays out of it at first. If it goes on long enough, then she can get curious. Before long, she ends up strumming Marianne on the roof of her jeep, listening in on some of the conversations around her. 'Helicopter' catches her attention. Yeah, this delay ain't normal. Probably something about the Earthquakes. Are earthquakes normal in Mongolia? Eh, geography was never her thing. So, the rockstar hops off her perch and walks over to her producer. "Hey, Hank! What's up?" she asks her producer. Sure, what she's about to hear will probably be more venting than useful information, but she can sift.
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Wayward going on adventure in Mongolia sounds like good TV.
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Sam could go into the shifting in circles and the fact she won't have to change the rules, but at the moment, quibbling over little details like that seems counterproductive. Instead, she brushes a strand of hair from Tona's face and smiles, warm hand coming to rest at the back of her neck. "I promise," she whispers into Tona's ear, drawing close and planting a soft kiss on the nape of her neck.
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As Tona walks away, the room seems suddenly colder, and Sam can't bring herself to meet Tona's gaze this time. "I don't plan on fighting," Sam offers weakly. "It's not that kind of duel, unless she makes it that way. I'd rather talk her down, or beat her to whatever her next mark is. But if I go in with a strike team, she'll go to ground and Talking won't be an option. If she has goons, then she broke the circle. All bets are off, I run, I come home, and next time, you come with me." She draws closer, taking Tona's hand into her own and looking up into her eyes, pleading. "I love you. And there's no one I'd rather have at my side for this, but I can't. At least, not yet."
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As Tona draws near, and Sam looks up into her eyes, feels her warmth, bathes in her familiar scent. Damn, it's hard to muster any kind of force or presence when all you want to do is shout, 'Take me now!' There's no excuse for hurting Tona like this, but... "I... I'm sorry..." Sam shudders, looking smaller and more vulnerable than she normally lets anyone see unless it's an act. It takes a moment for her to set her thoughts straight. "That was a war against an unstoppable horde. This is a duel against one woman. Against one thief. You know me. First priority is always a way to get out alive; the fight comes second. If she's at all the woman I remember, then she's still the same way. Even if she goes to ground, I try again when she shows again." "And it's not like I'm gonna completely disappear! I can still call when I don't have to do the whole radio silence thing, and I'm sure I'll have to lie low some time. And there's no where I'd rather lie low than with you."