2017-01-16 A Raven Asks Voodoo About Nesting
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Raven, Voodoo
GMed by None
Title: A Raven Asks Voodoo About Nesting

This young woman appears to be in her mid twenties. Black hair is cut to fall a little bit below her shoulders and pushed back from her face, tucked behind her ears. She has fair skin and pleasant features - a pert nose above full lips, light blue eyes set beneath thin, well-groomed brows. She is currently wearing lipstick that is somewhere between "pink" and "lilac" in color. Small hoops glint in her ears, silver against the hair. She is tall but slender, the kind of build that modeling agencies like, although she has perhaps a bit too much muscle for catwalk work, especially on her arms. Her voice is between mezzo and alto, and very soft, such that one might have to focus to hear her, giving a sense that she seldom wishes to raise it.

She is wearing a tight dark purple top, with cap sleeves and cropped slightly to bare a bit of midriff. This is above black jeans supported by a black belt with a small aqua-blue stone inset into the buckle. Around her neck is a silver choker with a black stone in the middle. She also wears black ankle boots. Over this all, she wears a three-quarter length, black, duster type jacket.

This tall, exotically beautiful young woman stands nearly six feet tall, her curvaceous form toned and tightly athletic, moving with flowing grace and a prowling command of her environment. Her features are a stunning blend, with waist-length coal black hair tumbling over her shoulders and down her back, framing a face with hauntingly deep blue eyes above high cheekbones, a graceful nose, very full lips and a graceful neck, setting off perfectly the burnished caramel of her skin, final proof of her mixed heritage. Her sultry mezzo-soprano voice has a rolling, indeterminate accent which adds to the air of mystery about her.

Artfully ripped faded blue denim jeans encase her legs and arch low on her hips, emphasizing her curves, while a white short-sleeved half-shirt with a purple-accented golden green dragon coiled over the chest covers her torso, leaving much of her flat, toned caramel-colored tummy bare. A pair of ankle-height black boots with two-inch heels and gold-set purple stones cover her feet.

RP Begins
It has been a few days since their first encounter, and while Priscilla has continued to get on about her life - she dosen't have much of a choice, to be honest - she hasn't stopped thinking about Raven, over and over again. There's just something about that gothic young woman that has captured Priss' imagination. She imagines it's almost a bit like what she feels in the minds of the men who visit the clubs where she dances, sometimes, when they catch her or some other dancer that truly rings their fancy, especially when it's a surprise to them. She's not quite so introspective as to have identified it, but she's aware enough that she's got her mind stuck in a loop.

Maybe that's why Priss is back on that same street, walking the same path, at the same time of day. This has to be three days in a row she has done this, as if she's trying to catch lightning in a bottle purely by chance. It's nuts. But here she is.

There are a lot of streets in this world, a lot of places for a young woman who has spent the first twenty years of her life in, essentially, a cloister to explore. It is perhaps not a surprise that Raven would not return to the same one right away, but now she's back. Slightly different dress, still quite Gothic in feel, as if that's her normal tone. She is not, though, reading as despondent as before. Or, perhaps, she has learned not to flow with the ambient of big cities quite so much. It takes, after all, practice for an empath not used to teeming millions.

By comparison, Priscilla is very used to those teeming millions, though she wouldn't put it that way. It's just always been what she has been surrounded with; no cloisters for Priss. But Raven's unique mind is one that Priss' senses pick up on as soon as she's within range; after all, she's been looking for that mind for several days now. And as soon as she picks that up, the purple-eyed raven-haired young woman in the scandalously painted-on outfit changes course and heads right towards Raven, taking the first opportunity to cross the street and get ever closer. She's not trying to hide, either; she doesn't believe she has a need to do so.

No need, at least from the slight, but welcoming smile Raven offers. She stays put as Priss approaches, letting her navigate the crowds without having to worry about a moving target.

Priss catches that welcoming smile, and one of her own shapes her full, ripe lips. She weaves through the crowd, gently elbowing a man as they move, when he decides to get grabby. She actually delivers the blow as he decides to do so, right before he actually puts the impulse into motion. So her elbow is simultaneous with the hand he latches on her backside rather briefly. Yet Priss doesn't even slow down, and seconds later she melts out of the crowd in front of Raven, purple eyes twinkling with amusement. "Hi, Raven." There's a light teasing, self-pleased edge to her voice.

"Looking for me?" comes the soft response. She can't read minds, but she sensed the spike of emotion when Priss detected her presence, familiar. She's certainly been "hunted down" before. The guy who tries to grab Priss' butt? She makes note of it, but says nothing.

"Hoping to run into you again." Priss admits, smiling a bit more broadly. She extends her hand. "You remember, right? I'm Priss." Which, if the other woman remembers, implies she wants Raven to think of her as a friend. There's an edge of nervous excitement to her, and a soft, warm pleasure at successfully having found her. "Hope you're doing OK?"

"I do remember." This time she reaches to shake hands, but with that slight mental tension that indicates she doesn't want to read *too* much of Priss' emotions. "I am doing…better, actually." A bit of a smile. "I haven't lived in a city before. Still getting used to it."

Priss considers that for a bit, weighing, and then nods. "Open, I'd guess that would be hard, first time and all. Headaches?" she questions, a tad curious what the problems were that the other woman has experienced. Priss shakes hands, and then tucks hers back around her waist, sensing that Raven isn't much for lots of physical contact. So, no big hug right now.

A nod from the Goth-looking girl. "Yes. Headaches, but I suspect it is normal. I'm not used to being around more than a hundred people at a time." Small town girl, then. Might fit with the unplaceable accent.

"Wow. Small town girl." Priss offers, with a smile and a merry sparkle in her eyes. "Remind me not to take you to the club, though. Guessing you wouldn't like that at all." She doesn't explain, but Priss' emotions would make it clear she's being responsibly protective; she's wary of that environment because she knows what it feels like to her, and she's used to it. Something of that urge brings one of Priss' hands up, just barely stopping herself from brushing her fingers through Raven's hair. "Sorry. If it gets too much, you gotta say."

"Maybe when I'm used to this." The hand coming up does necessitate a slight step backwards. No, Raven is not one for casual touching. "So…I think we have a few things in common."

Priss nods, a tad jerkily. "Sorry. I'll try to keep to myself. I'm … very touchy, normally." But clearly she can tell Raven is not, and is trying to respect that. But her instincts are what they are. "I think you … can feel. Like me. But … maybe not like me, too?"

"I am an empath," Raven says, simply. Amongst other things…she senses something different about Priss. And not like her, no. Not remotely like her. Thankfully.

Priss nods. "Right. That's what Zee called it." She doesn't seem inclined to explain who 'Zee' is, but there's a big ball of emotion gently muted behind the name. It's someone important to her. A mentor of sorts? "She used to talk about 'telepathy', too. Thoughts, not just feelings."

Raven shakes her head. "I only do feelings. Probably a good thing. I would not want to know what some of the people around here are thinking." Like butt grabber guy…

Priss can get that. "True. I … uhm." She purses her lips. There's some trepidation there. "The other resonance I get. You've got … magic?" she guesses. Damned loaded question, and she knows it.

Deep breath. "…Of a sort." A pause. "Can we…maybe talk about this somewhere other than blocking traffic."

Priss glances around, and then nods. She understands the hesitations of the other woman, and doesn't want to push it. "Uhm." Her mental sweep catches something. "There's a cheap hotel back around the corner. We could get a room, out of the way." Yet something about that suggestion creates an odd emotional resonance with Priscilla. Like the echo of remembered shame.

"I was more thinking that there has to be a coffee shop or similar around here." Kory's introduced her to them. A room? That…she catches those echoes, doesn't fully understand them…

Oh. Right. Coffee shop. "Uhm. Sure. We can do that." Priss points in a different direction. "Over there, if you want." She doesn't push any further, but waits ready to follow Raven towards the shop if she heads in that direction.

Raven nods and moves that way. "So…you read minds, then. Thoughts, not just feelings." It doesn't seem to make her that uncomfortable, despite her semi-joke.

Priss nods. Then remembers the other woman can't read her thoughts and has her back towards her. "Yep." She follows Raven to the shop and inside when they arrive. "I … Yeah. That. Other stuff, too." She did mention the magic thing.

"Detecting magic." Raven hesitates. "But you have not recoiled from me." Yet.

Priss nods. "That. More." Seems they're both a bit uneasy with the truth of who and what they are. "And no. Haven't recoiled. Won't." Sure, there's something about that magic. But not about the person she's feeling. The person she's feeling is … clean. And her instincts say to listen to that.

A bit of a sigh. Relief, definitely relief, as she slips into the coffee shop and looks around for a table they can claim. "I appreciate that."

Once they're seated, Priss speaks again. Not before then. "I know what it's like, others turn away from you. Disturbed. Even disgusted.' Hard to imagine, perhaps, given how gorgeous she is on the outside. But the emotional revulsion she displays inside is far too sharply crisp to ignore. Or to think it's just imagined. There's a wound there. "Never do that to someone else." Curse and blessing of an empath.

"Where I grew up, I was accepted. Since coming here…I have found a few who…sense what I am and fear me." She's not surprised. But she doesn't LIKE it.

"People I knew. People who became my family. When they saw … the truth." There's a seed of real inner revulsion, there. A part of Priscilla loathes a part of who and what she is. Or at least wishes hard it weren't so. She has come to acceptance. But the loss still hurts. The rejection.

"I sense nothing about you except…that you do have power." Raven, of course, has no clue about Priss' genetics. Why would she?

Priss nods. "I'm … only part human." she admits. "So were the others. But … they were all part another alien race, all brought together to face and fight figures from a single other race." There's a pause. She hates talking about this. "Turns out, I'm a hybrid. I'm that other race, too. S'why I can detect 'em."

Raven nods. "Half…what? Some kind of…alien?" Because she's pretty sure she'd KNOW if Priss was demonic.

"Human. Kheran. And Daemonite." Whoops. Maybe Priss is demonic? "I'm like a quarter human." Which she clearly hates. It's not a comfortable feeling she radiates at that revelation. "I know. I don't look it. Most of the time."

"Hrm. I came across daemonites in my research," she admits. "Into demons. I had not realized they were aliens." She takes it as the truth, though. Or, well, empath.

Priss nods. "I'd guess most who study magic would think that, unless they had someone to correct them. I wouldn't believe if I didn't know better." She shrugs. "Anyway. I have a lot of talents. Including magic. It's weird."

Raven nods. "I believe you, in any case." Because, yes, she would know, instinctively.

"So. Stupid question. What do you do?" Priss asks, sighing. "I mean, not with the magic. What do you do … in the world?" She pauses, and then offers, "I dance. Exotic." A beat. "Y'know. Stripping."

"I…" Raven raises an eyebrow but continues. "Do not know yet." Of course, she doesn't have a high school diploma, any qualifications…

Priss arches an eyebrow at that. OK. Not an answer she had expected. "How … how're you keeping yourself?" Y'know. Food. Place to sleep. Clothes. It's important. Ish.

"The Titans are helping me while we work something out." She's, well, basically crashing on Kory's couch right now.

"Titans. Wow." Priss murmurs, clearly amazed and a tad offput. Those are big, public names. SHe's impressed. Maybe staggered. "Nice to have those kinds of friends. I hope … Well. I hope they never feel about you the way mine thought about me."

"I hope not too. But I do intend to find a way to earn money. I simply have not the feeling there is much demand for my studies." A bit of a smile there.

Priss nods. "Well. What else do you know? Other than fingerwiggling?" Yes. Priss just called magic 'fingerwinggling'. Because that's just her sort of simplification.

Raven laughs. "I don't actually cast spells. I stick to my innate abilities. I know a lot about demonology, psychology…I mean I know about people's minds. Meditation." A pause. "Maybe I could teach that. It seems that a lot of people around here need it."

Priss nods. "What forms of meditation do you use?" A pause. "I use forms. Most would call them 'katas', but the style isn't even from Earth, so it's not Japanese. But forms are like martial dancing." Which, for the dancer, makes sense as a meditation technique.

"It's similar to what people here call yoga." Which, of course, there is definitely a market for.

Priss nods. "Then you should consider working at one of the 'new age' spiritualism centers. Between yoga and meditation techniques, you'd have a lot of what they'd want." She smiles.

Raven nods. "As I noticed, it does seem a lot of people around here could use some basic meditation training to get a better control over their emotions."

Priss chuckles and shakes her head. "Nah. Honestly, you're not going to get most folks to bother learning for emotional control, Raven. They're not going to bother. Most don't see the value in emotional control. People prefer to embrace their emotions."

"Yes, but when they are…well…Koriand'r said that some of them make themselves sick with emotions. I might be able to help with that." Raven's talking about stress, of course. Something she doesn't really understand.

Priss nods. "They do." Priss has, so she knows it can happen. "And you probably could. Just explaining that most folks won't do it, so don't set yourself up waiting and hoping for more emotional control."

Raven nods. "But it's still a good idea." She'll need a name…well, she has a last name. Sort of. The first name will have to change, though.

"You might want help coming up with a name to help blend in." Priss offers. "I went the other way. Came up with a name for when I had to be different from everyone else." There's a twinkle in her purple eyes then. "You're Raven. They call me Voodoo."

Raven nods. "I'll come up with one. I believe Raven is sometimes a first name, but…" Of course, a hippie name might be useful for a yoga instructor, but…

Priss nods. "Just figured that you'd want to blend in a tad more, when you can. When you can't …" She shrugs. "It's cool that you have the Titans to help you. I remember what that was like." And if her emotions are to be believed, she misses it. A lot. There's an emptiness and ache inside her. "So. Should I ask?" She knows the other woman has a dark secret. She's not sure if Raven is ready to talk about it. But she listened to Priss. Least she can do is listen for the other woman in turn.

Well. "Perhaps we can be friends." Raven can offer that. "For now anyway." As if she doesn't know how long any offer could be left open…and no, she doesn't answer the question. Not yet.

Priss nods. "I'm pretty good at that. Friends, I mean." She really is good at it. The woman has Charisma practically dripping off of her. Even if one weren't attracted to her in the slightest, she'd still got serious magnetism of personality going on. "As for 'now', I said. Don't worry about that. I don't drop friends. Unless they drop me."

"I have no intention of dropping anyone." She just…well. No. She's not ready to talk to Priss about it quite yet, charisma or no.

"They had no intention … until they did." Priss is coldly, baldly honest. She shrugs. "But I appreciate it."

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