In Retrospect
Roleplaying Log: In Retrospect
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

A reporter come to call on Kory Anders, supermodel, snooping for a scoop on Charles Arany.

Other Characters Referenced: Nightwing
IC Date: January 23, 2020
IC Location: New York City, NY
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 23 Jan 2020 05:32
Rating & Warnings: G
Scene Soundtrack: None
NPC & GM Credits: Reporter by Harley Quinn
Associated Plots

Not every day is fashion week or every job an avant-garde fashion show where 'Kory Anders' gets to wear a representation of a city as a dress or have her hair turned into skyscraper. Most jobs are fairly straightforward, appearing regularly for one of her major contracts, or for the various smaller jobs her agent books for her in the interim. This is the former, at least, which makes things a little more plausible for a reporter with other motives - when the larger companies shoot for their new seasonal lines, there's always at least some press, even if it's mostly fashion specific… or material for the celebrity and gossip columns.

It seems that Miss Anders has been attracting more and more of the latter, these days, unfortunately.

They're working out of an empty converted warehouse or industrial building turned into luxury loft apartments, the kind of thing photographers love for all the space and, most of all, the light. Those big windows are one of the city's trademarks. The shoot is over, and Kory has retired to her screened off dressing area (the downside of said loft: no fancy rooms for that!). But she has a vanity to sit at, and by now has draped on a silk robe, although she leaves it carelessly untied, revealing how little any lack of privacy seems to bother her.


And here comes trouble.

It's a man — possibly in his early thirties, tall, lean, and possessing a superior bone structure in his face that makes him a striking sort — who manages to smile his way past everyone. He's not known, per se, but he knows the right things to say that get him past everyone and to the screen where Miss Anders is presently in her state of disrobe.

"Miss Anders," he calls over the wall, the tone of it bright in the way that betrays he's smiling on the other side. "John Caison, Gotham Times. I was hoping you had a moment to speak with me. I can offer you a cup of coffee at the corner diner if you have the time. Otherwise, I'd like to ask you some questions and I can ask them here. I don't really care, but I figure you might prefer the diner."


"It is alright, you may come back here and speak with me now if you like," answers the woman's voice from behind the screen, quite unperturbed of yet another such periodical poking around. As with many things, she takes it on trust that if he is here claiming to work for a reputable publication, that it is so. "It will save me some time, I do not have a great deal of it before I am scheduled to be elsewhere." And while she welcomes him, it is with an uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm that may reflect mounting difficulties with the press.

Although, after a bit, she does offer one subsequent encouragement: "I am decent enough." Well, by fashion standards. Really, a job where they have to do costume changes that would impress Superman during runway shows is especially well-suited to the brazen Tamaranean.

Kory is still seated whenever he makes it back there, seemingly focused on something with her makeup at the moment, removing some and perhaps redoing it. Blinking in the vanity's large mirror, it is an unnatural version of her own gaze that stares back at her, as she wears the contacts Tim and Victor long ago developed to keep at least *some* semblance of a human appearance in public. People can get over the height and skin. Glowing eyes would be another matter.


Fortunately for Kory, neither is the man on the other side of the screen shy. "If that's what you'd prefer," he replies as he slides around the edge, "it's fine by me." She might note the way that he taps his phone to start up a recording app, but then he's pulling out a very traditional pad and pen. As he works to get himself set up, he chatters away amiably. "They keep you hopping even after Fashion Week's done, huh? Good for you. Off to another gig, or something more fun?"


"Yes, it is a busy schedule. Around the holidays especially, as there are extra promotional campaigns. But I enjoy keeping busy. It is good to have a purpose, yes?" The official line to the press, which at this point has a fair history, has always been that Kory is, like many in her industry, a Brazillian export with some northern European heritage, explaining everything from her height to bronzed skin to the still not entirely American standard way she speaks English. "Today I have one more small job and then I am meeting friends."

Somewhere in the midst of this, she does glance back, although only by shifting her head slightly to look back via the mirror, shifting from her own image to his. "What sort of story are you doing, Mr. Caison? Usually if they want a more personal interview, they schedule those in advance."


"Not really so much of a personal interview, no. " Reaching into his pocket, Caison pulls out a stick of gum and shoves it into his mouth. He jots a few things down into his hands, and then his eyes lift to regard the model in front of him with a sharp eye. His smile persists, but there's something about the way he looks where it never really reaches his gaze. "But you were pretty front and center when things went down at the Charles Arany show in New York, though, huh?"


Kory tilts her head slightly, her expression revealing a brief surprise, but then settling into a more apparent sadness. "Well, I suppose so? Those kind of shows are never about the models as much as the designers, but I was fortunate to have a large role. Mr. Arany's designs were brilliant." Finishing with whatever of what she was working on with a last few dustings of a brush, she turns around in the chair partway, to better regard the man. "He was just backstage when it happened. We were all very shocked.

"But I have told the police all of this," she then points out, not defensively, but rather a little wearily. "And I am not sure I have anything to add that was not already in the news. The place was crowded with press. Everyone was very shocked, and I was just happy for anything I could do to keep things calm backstage. It was a long night."


"Yeah, you told the police," the reporter continues, tucking his pad away. He then continues, sliding his hands into his pockets. "But I really was just kind of wondering if you believe what they're saying about that assistant of his. That she did it all? She just seems… kinda… I dunno. Not like the poison and dagger type. But they're not dropping the charges, so maybe there's something to it. Still, I'm finding who I can, who may have seen something more, and just finding out what they think. Not goin' in any paper or reports. Just lookin' for an opinion that you don't have to worry about backing up. No libel cases here."


There is a quiet pause as Kory considers the man's question, her expression a bit more thoughtful. "I would not personally have suspected her capable of such a thing," she eventually admits, voice somewhat softer. "But I am also not aware of the details of their investigation, or what evidence they may have collected. Those sorts of shows are -very- busy, you know." The latter reflects a career of experience amidst such backstage chaos. "We usually have only moments to change, and so everyone is running about, making sure they are wearing the right thing, ready to step back out at the right moment, and so-on. People like her are responsible for making sure it does not all turn into a disaster- but there are a number of assistants, hair and makeup artists, and then of course all of those in charge of directing the show, as well as the designer themself."

And what does that all mean?

"Not that I know much about that sort of thing. Although I did date a police detective for a while," she adds, with a touch of a smirk. This is naturally all widely-reported public information, since said police detective happened to be a famous adopted son of one of Gotham's greatest citizens, set on getting away from home (or from daddy) for a bit by working in the NYPD. "I am sure they have looked into all of those people as well."


"I'm sure." But the tone of his voice makes it sound like he's really not so sure at all. There's another shrug, and then half of Caison's mouth crunches downward in a contemplative frown. "I guess it just bothers me when everyone goes 'I never saw it coming', but then just believes it's the way of it anyway." He moves forward at that, just to hand a card over.

"Anyway, I'm really just doing a bit of work on a possible retrospective. You were one of the bigger names that showed up on the list who I had a chance of finding, and the only one who was doing work recently. You would not believe how hard it's been finding good folks for it. If you'd like to maybe show up and maybe try out TV, you could come and answer questions down at the little studio my friend's got over in Gotham. I'm sure you don't need the publicity, but you could come wax poetic about the visionary prowess of Charles Arany and what it was like to work for him. Or, yanno, crucify him. I'm all about airing terrible things about dead people if the guy was an asshole."


"Unfortunately, I really did not see it coming," Kory echoes, not necessarily meaning it as a joke, although the phrasing (and even timing, she has an odd knack for it) might come across that way. "But I work with a lot of different designers and it is not as if we were terribly close. My agency arranged the booking." Indeed, the sort of extra layer of professional distance is usually a great asset for her, as keeping her 'other life' separate from her work.

Although she readily reaches a hand to take the card the man offers her, her response to his proposed TV spot is rather obviously more hesitant. "I would have to discuss a TV appearance. I do not pay close attention to the business side of things, but I am sure my agent would have some concerns or requirements." Really, she makes that all sound terribly alien and unconcerning to her, but it is why she has people who handle those things! Maybe for different reasons than most models, but the end result is the same. "But really, as I said, I did not know him very well, to provide any such retrospective. I could speak to the quality of his work, I suppose? I did find his designs very inventive."


"Talk it over with your agent," Caison agrees amiably with another shrug. "Yeah, the retrospective is a fluff piece, mostly. I'm expecting no one is going to speak ill of the dead anyway." Stepping back and putting his hands back into his pockets, the man affords Kory a respectful distance once more. "I'll get out of your hair, but just let me know if you decide you want in, yeah?" He jerks a thumb over his shoulder as he continues. "Anyway, I'll show myself out. Thanks for your time, Miss Anders."


"It would be in most poor taste," Kory agrees with this optimistic assessment. "What cause is there to do him further harm or slander, beyond what has already been done?" While the question may be phrased rhetorically, and with a flash of indignation besides that at the thought of disgracing the dead, just speaking it aloud does seem to leave some doubt lingering on the topic. Whatever is polite or respectful aside, if you are willing to poison a person… well then a bit of additional slander is sort of a small step! It's not a pleasant thought. "I will be sure to let you know promptly," she promises the man, once he begins his retreat. "You are most welcome. I appreciate that you are putting your effort into investigating the incident and providing the public with information about him." As genuine as she seems in saying it, the idea that the press might not be wholly his ally either doesn't quite seem to cross her mind! Alas, somehow Tamaran never invented 'shady reporters.'


The burst of commentary draws a chuckle from the reporter. "Glad to do my part," he says at last, not really certain what to make of her seemingly bottomless reserves of optimism. It certainly doesn't seem to be something that he's gotten a whole lot of in his time asking questions. If it bleeds, it leads, and most people are more than willing to offer each other up to the sacrificial altar if it means 15 minutes of fame. "Have a good day, yeah?" And with that, the man turns and heads out of the dressing area to give Kory her solitude once more.

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