12563/The Priss Infiltration Method

The Priss Infiltration Method
Date of Scene:	16 December 2020
Location:	Tony's Office - Stark Tower
Synopsis:	Scandal! Mercury Poisoning! Hastily-Named Robot Bartenders!
Cast of Characters:	Voodoo, Iron Man

---

Voodoo has posed:
Voodoo. Priss. No matter what she's doing, she's well aware of being a dirty mutt hybrid and she's been reading up on Stark Tech. Because, well....

Why she's here is complicated. On paper, 'give a brochure to a fellow company' sounds oh, oh so simple. Then a Demonite got on her radar. That's led to her keeping the brochure in a briefcase in her left hand...dressed in a business suit, which for the dancer is, sort of odd. She's still (technically) on the books of Halo Corporation, sort of, complicated as that whole thing is. So she's here, and she looks like just another businesswoman here for a talk with Mr. Stark himself.

Pesky Demonites crashing the party. Still, she's kept her cool for now. She knows who the Demonite is, or who it's possessing. Poor Todd, 3.8 GPA, hired to be in HR, good with people, likes cats. Priss has her suspicions about Todd, but there's time for that once he's free of Demonite influence. Maybe she'll anonymously get him a kitten or something to say hey, sorry you had to go through that.

Currently, Priss is making her way up the stairs, because, nobody got time to wait for elevators. And being it's Stark Tech's tower...that is a lot of stairs. At least her workout for the week is done just by taking stairs.

And nobody wants to talk about the Knights to her, either...and there's no Grifter, or Zealot to annoy her. Good. Good. Ah fine, she'll take the elvator from the third floor. Enough stairs. So she's just waiting on an elevator and hoping the Demonite rears his head out so she can deal with it. Sure, her relationship with the WildCATS team might be strained, but she's still at heart, a member of that team and knows what they taught her.

Iron Man has posed:
A warble of feminine laughter can be heard from a few meters away from the the elevator. Looks like the girls in the Customer Retention Department have found something funny, though the laughter sounds partly competitive, rather than purely inspired by actual humor.

"So that's when I said to myself, 'Saving the world every day is all well and good, but who's going to save ME from the world?'"

There are sounds much like 'Awwwws....' from the girls in the Customer Retention Department.

"But at the end of the day, YOU are the ones I want to come home to. Our little Stark Family. I get to come home from a hard day fighting off Galactus, and all of you are here, waiting with my pipe and slippers. Only instead of a pipe and slippers, it's Customer Retention... stuff. And that means so very much to me. So... great job, Customer Retention Department! Enjoy the bonus checks!"

There's some applause as Tony Stark, the very guy whose name is on the building, leaves the Customer Retention Department to enjoy whatever celebration was put together for whatever milestone they managed to achieve. As he walks out of the department, he pulls back the sleeve of his suit jacket, and the Stark Watch on his wrist emits a holographic display informing him of his next scheduled stop.

Aimlessly wandering toward the elevator while scrolling through the holographic image, he ends up being a bit uncomfortably close the the exotic-looking woman, and also to a portly middle-aged man who also happens to be waiting on the elevator.

Putting his watch away, he puts on his best Used Spaceship Salesman Grin, and clears his throat slightly.

"Elevators, am I right? We really need to hurry up and get those teleporter pads up and running."

Voodoo has posed:
Priss cants her head at the words. "Yes. Yes you do" she says without looking over. The fake laughter reminds her way too much of working for Halo Corporation...and the accounts people, and that one redhead in legal, and, the two sisters in the mail room that do a good job, but love to gossip on everything going on. With a shrug, Priss doesn't need to fake the whole being annoyed at waiting on elevators thing. Oh, that is genuine.

Instead she's got her free hand by her side. Sure, she didn't need to sneak a gun or a knife in, not when she's a telepath that can blast minds with psionic power and alert any psychic or psionic people within a good chunk of the city, or the three states. Voodoo finally looks up and smiles, "Hi, I'm here for a meeting with Mr. Stark" she startss, though she's keeping an eye out for Demonites. Mostly since if one's aorund, she's afraid there'll be more, and it'll be a bloodbath and all over the news. Which is bad.

Still, Priss offers up her free hand, kind of a half handshake, half going to smooth out her suit jacket, depending on which is more important. Priss isn't traditional, admittedly, the WildCATS kind of took in the exotic dancer from Louisiana, and taught her everything.

"So" Priss says confidently with a smile that's ear to ear. "I was hoping to find a few people, actuall

Iron Man has posed:
It's a fairly well-known thing around the office that Tony Stark doesn't like to shake hands, pretty much with anybody. It's not that he's a germaphobe, it's just that everyone else is so very gross.

So the portly middle-aged man actually looks somewhat surprised when Tony takes the offered hand, without any obvious reluctance at all.

But then the portly middle-aged man notices whose hand Tony is shaking, and it all kind of makes sense to him. Suddenly, he doesn't want to wait on this elevator very much anymore.

"A meeting with Tony Stark? Wow, I'd hate to be in your shoes. Guy's a tool."

Tony smiles a bit slyly as he insults himself, and lets go of her hand. The elevator doors open, and a few people come out. They all look a bit surprised to see Tony standing there, but hurry past to get on with their busy days. After all, the boss is watching.

"Guess that means I'm riding up with you, I have a meeting on the top floor as well."

Sure, he didn't see a meeting with this particular woman on his schedule, but Tony doesn't seem to stick particularly well to his schedule anyway.

Voodoo has posed:
Priss gives the portly guy a worried look. Okay, he ran off. Maybe he didn't want to annoy the boss? Understandable. Understandable. Priss has been in that position too, and she smiles and focuses. Part of her gifts? The sight. She can see what's really going on, and that includes Demonite possessions. And illusions, shapeshifters, and all that. She smiles, and looks over to /the/ Tony Stark.

"Alright" Priss smiles. "Lead on, please"

Top floor works. But if she figures out who is possessed...game time.

Mostly since, well, Priss has things to do here, and that involves kicking Demonite butt. Which is just part of who she is.

Glancing to the elevator, then to Tony, Priss smiles. "Top floor. Alright" Priss nods keenly, psyching herself up for that meeting. It's with that Mr. Stark! That one. Yes, him!

Iron Man has posed:
As the elevator doors close behind them, Tony takes up a position in front of the elevator controls, leaning casually against the wall. Gives her plenty of space in the elevator, he's not really a crowder.

He even keeps his sideways glances in her direction to a bare minimum, despite his well-known proclivities. Maybe his impending fiftieth birthday is giving him a bit of hard-won maturity.

But then, he's also pretending to be someone else for no apparent reason, so let's not give him too much credit.

"Top floor it is!" The button is pushed, and the elevator rockets off. Floors woosh by, but the inertial dampeners do their job marvelously. Somebody ripped off the elevators from Star Trek, and they are at the chosen floor almost instantly.

The doors open, revealing yet another cavernous 'open concept' work space with offices lining the sides.

Nearly half the floor seems to be taken up by one office, however, with a very chill lobby/hangout area in front of it where the receptionist kind of chills/hangs out.

Voodoo has posed:
Nearly 50 is twice as old as Priss, give or take a few days. Still, she bites back a squeak at the elevators. Alright, Halo Corporation needs these, ASAP. She just...has no idea what to actually say. Uh....hi....here's a brochure seems so lame, really. For all of her bravado, Priss is also putting on a front. Smart girl.

"So, the top floor?" she asks waving ahand once the door opens. "Is all yours? Ah, who am I kiddin', you're the boss" she says and grins. So much for formality. Never been her strong point, amazingly enough. Ask any of her former team. They got stories.

Still she steps out of the elevator once it's open and takes a tour of the chill lobby/hangout area. "Now" she nods, "This is what I call a waiting area. You got style, Stark" she laughs, a gentle, genuine laugh, unlike the competitive ones from earlier as Priss nods and gazes around the area, then back to Tony. She's still hoping the Demonite will show themselves., making it easy for Priss, as she sweeps her gaze over the secretary, and then to Tony. The portly guy who ran off, well, he's still in her mind because who wears a suit like that? Judgy, much, Priscilla?

Iron Man has posed:
"I know, right? Everybody always forgets my sense of style when they talk about my good qualities. It's always 'genius' this, or 'amazing lover' that, but they forget about how feng shui all my buildings are."

Straightening his tie, Tony plays the part of a good host, now that the jig is up and she knows for sure who he is. It's not very hard to find his office, with an ego like his, but it IS really hard to actually get past the doors. There are... a lot of people who would like a meeting with Tony Stark, and he would very much like to avoid most of them. Which is why his receptionist is paid so very well and also has a button for a disintegrator under her desk.

Speaking of the receptionist...

"Oh, Mister Stark! I wasn't expecting you until three PM. Is this... one of the girls from the Customer Retention Department?" There's a mostly matter of fact, not very judgy tone to the receptionist's voice, but still a hint of suspicion.

"No no... this is my next meeting, right?"

The receptionist opens her mouth, then closes it.

Tony turns and looks at the business suit-wearing Daemonite slayer.

"Huh. Come to think of it... don't think I got your name. Ha! Guess I was transfixed by your beauty or something, but uh... yeah... you can't come into my office. Sorry."

Voodoo has posed:
"Customer retention? Oh no, no, I'm here from Halo Corporation" she declares. White lie. Sort of. Kind of. Maybe.

"That's okay" Priss nods. "I'm Priscilla" she adds with a smile to the receptionistNow though, well, Priss laughs gently.

"You do have style. And...uh....I'm not asking on the other two things. I'm....not asking. No. I don't want to know" she says folding her arms, and giving Tony a look that's part concern, part amusement, part raised eyebrow, and part 'what did I get into'

"So. Let's see" Priss nods keenly. "Alright" Priss says gently, eyebrow finally, finally coming back down again. She's still looking for that Demonite, and she focuses on the receptionist, and looks for a way to maybe, just, maybe, scan that mind.

Iron Man has posed:
The receptionist is very good at her job, and is a graduate of the Pepper Potts School of Taking Out The Trash. She seems poised for action at a moment's notice, if Tony so much as gives a nod. Hopefully, she won't have to use the disintegrator ray.

But, for whatever reason, Tony doesn't do anything of the sort. Well, there are two obvious reasons why he might want her to stay, but apart from that... it's anyone's guess what what sort of weird logic his brian works off of. Probably a Unix derivative.

"Priscilla, huh? Well, I'm pretty sure I've heard of the Halo Corporation..." He looks at his receptionist, who shrugs her shoulders.

"Why don't we go ahead and let Priscilla into my office, and we'll see what it is she wants? Think I can fit her in for fifteen minutes, right?"

The receptionist opens her mouth, closes it, and then pushes another button on the desk.

The doors to Tony's Office whoosh open, revealing yet another cavernous space made up of gleaming stainless steel and enormous glass panels.

No desk though, although there is kind of a chill hangout space right next to a work bench where a couple of prototypes are in the middle of being tinkered with.

And a full bar, with a robotic bartender.

Voodoo has posed:
Nothing Demonite-ish in that receptionist's mind. And way too much info on the Pepper Potts school of dealing with things. Noted.

"Sure" Priss nods and smiles. Fifteen minutes with Tony Stark, huh? Alright, five seconds to give the brochure. Fourteen minutes, fifty five seconds of questions, and keeping a watch for Demonites. Still, Priss is impressed. She's also a tiny bit envious of the office. It beats Marlowe's place into the ground, stomps on it, then runs off with the proverbial, metaphorical lunch money. In other words. Insanely better.

As Priss just gazes at the office. Then she has a nagging feeling that if a Demonite's around, it'll come to her and want to kill her. So if that happens, she just put these two in danger. Then again, Tony Stark probably has something to deal with randomly wanting to murder guests sort of visitors, humans or aliens or whatever they are. And she can totally drive Grifter up the wall with bragging about oh, by the way Cole. I ogt to be in Tony Stark's office. The over/under on him shooting her, she's unsure on that.

So as she steps into the office, Priss smiles brightly, and moves her hands slowly to open the briefcase. No need to spook anyone and end up extremely dead. Oror, dead for a bit, thank you, regeneration power. Priss shrugs and smiles keenly.

"So" Priss nods, not giving her last name. Priss. Halo Corporation. That's a big enough lead to find who she is.

Iron Man has posed:
"Alright Priscilla, this is my bartender... DX-4321... he can make anything you want... and I mean ANYTHING!"

This isn't really much of an exaggeration, as the robot seems to have access to some sort of replicators that turn organic paste into... just about anything.

Tony, however, just grabs a scotch on the rocks. He's a traditionalist.

The doors whoosh close, concealing the scowl of the receptionist. She really takes her job insulating Tony from people very seriously. Which, normally, is exactly what Tony likes in a receptionist. Just not today. He's got attractive company with a brochure.

"Don't take any pictures of what I'm working on over there. It's gamechanging stuff, worth like a trillion dollars. If I ever finish it, that is."

"Most of my ideas are worth like a trillion dollars. It's a lot of pressure. Hence, scotch."

Voodoo has posed:
"If you finish?" Priss asks. There's that raised eyebrow again. Ah she doesn't care about the drinking. Priss orders herself an iced coffee, because...she needs a clear head for this. And she's wondering how good the coffee that robot bartender is. Answer? Oh, he's good. Priss smirks a little at the hey, don't take any pictures. That she can do, as Priss smirks. "Oh we got our own you photo this, you have a lot of angry people in suits that will smash up that phone, camera or whatever it is" Priss smiles keenly, casting a watching eye over the office, and she smiles more. Somewhere. Marlowe, jealous...so, so jealous. Great, great.

Priss moves with the grace of a dancer as she moves, and produces the brochure and proffers it to him. "Please, take this. It's why I'm here" she says, and...she's not sure how to even mention Demonites....not at all, as Priss is still scanning minds, if she can find the demonite, maybe she can lure it up to Tony's office. Which isn't the smartest play in the book, but....hey, Tony hs an office, and a receptionist that takes things seriously. So this impromptu team, well, rag tag bunch of folks may just be able to deal with a Demonite? Maybe?

But first, coffee, brochure, and....

"You got a place for me to sit while we discuss this?" Priss asks with a grin.

Iron Man has posed:
"Ah I don't like to be... well... okay..."

Looking at the brochure with a slightly confused expression, Tony sips carefully at his scotch. He's a big believer in pacing himself, and also doesn't want to get his mustache wet.

It's a little unconventional for him to be handed something. One of his many many eccentricities. But the girl who used to intercept people before they handed him things is gone, and Tony's sort of left to muddle through somehow.

"Huh. It's been ages since I saw one of these. I think the last one had like... Bible verses on it or something. Usually people have like a... presentation?"

Doesn't mean he won't flip through it though. He's already in for a penny.

Without really answering her question, he sort of wanders off toward the far corner of the office. The one where there's absolutely nothing aside from mirror-polished stainless steel floor and a completely transparent corner wall section.

Until he gets closer, and portions of the stainless steel floor rise up out of the ground, turning into... yet another fairly chill hangout area. But these chairs look more like what would happen if a dentist chair and a massage chair were forcibly bred together in the year 3000.

Some sort of strange, silvery, liquid metal that hopefully isn't toxic.

Either way though, Tony flops right down on his chair, without spilling his scotch.

Voodoo has posed:
Priss shrugs and smiles, "I...didn't have time for that" she admits. "I've no presentation, that's...the best I could do. Sorry" she shrugs with a smile. Handing Tony things isn't normal. Priss did that. Still though she nods to Tony.

"Bible verses? Really. I've many questions but not sure I want answers" she jokes and looks pleased at her joke, and she follows his lead by flopping into a chair. "I'm mostly certain there's no Bible verses in there. I'm fairly sure at least"

Priss is. Mostly, Perhaps. She's not flicked through the brochure yet. And given it's handed to Tony...well. Journey of discovery and all that, find what's in the glossy, color printed laminated pages type brochure, together. Just a question of who blinks first. Metaphorically, or literally. Both are good with Priss.

Iron Man has posed:
If only the representatives from Lockheed had used the Priss Infiltration Method, they might have been awarded that big contract. Instead, they got reassigned to Alaska.

Tony holds his glass over the side of his chair, and the floor rises to meet it, forming a small table for Tony to set his drink on. Very futuristic. And easy to clean, which is important for a germaphobe.

"So, let me see if I understand the pitch here... you want me to buy your company and give you stock options after the merger? Or are you just trying to bring your undoubtedly... ample talents to Stark-Fujikawa?"

They aren't terrible guesses, given the context clues. Though, genius that he is, Tony isn't always the quickest to follow along with the actual context. He kind of just makes up his own.

Voodoo has posed:
Priss infiltration. Well...she's good at it. Maybe a bit too good, but still...she smirks and folds her arms. "Ah, no" Priss says with a nod. "My pitch is looking for investment in Halo Corporation" she says keenly, with a giggle. Marlowe would skin her for this, but she's helping out her...technically current, former, at the same time, employers.
Priss keeps a grip on her coffee and leans back in her chair. Oh, she's enjoying this a bit too much. Not every day she gets to accidentally run rings around folks. Even if it's by complete and utter accident. Go figure. Still, Tony's not far off.

"Believe me. If Mr. Marlowe wanted a buyout he'd do it himself, but I'm here so no buyout yet" she explains, with a knowing smile. Priss has no desire to get sent to Fairbanks or Anchorage, not in the least. Admittedly, one call to her people, she'll get a ride right back to outside the StarkTech tower. With a smirk, Priss sets her hands in her lap. "Oh, if you look on the back, there's a puzzle for the kids to do and some trivia" she says, out of the blue. That's the one tidbit she remembers right about now.

Iron Man has posed:
Wrong both times. But, now that she's spilled the beans, Tony can't tell whether he should be relieved, or even more confused. It's a pretty unconventional way to ask for investment capital, that's for sure.

He flips the brochure over. Sure enough, it's got a puzzle on it, just like a Shoney's menu. He's pretty sure that one of the trivia questions is wrong.

"So it does... so it does... Well! Isn't that something, but I don't give away my bitcoins to just anybody, you know. In fact, I don't actually know how many bitcoins I have, I'd have to talk to my guy in accounting. Sven, I think his name is? No... Kristine!"

There's a lot of turnover in the accounting department. Fortunately, the Customer Retention Department knows how to keep their best talent.

"But if that's all, Prissy, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be doing something."

He's not as busy as he tells everyone he is, but he does occasionally have to do SOMETHING. Getting up out of his chair, he somewhat uncharacteristically offers a hand to help her up.

"You can email Kristine the prospectus, and she'll get back with you."

Voodoo has posed:
"More than one" is Priss's answer. She's not even tried digging in his head. Not that she'd want to. She's just impressed it's not oh, let's see what is in his head. more a ...hmm, what can I learn from talking with him?

So far that's worked. And she's got a fix on the Demonite. However given she's being shown out of the office....that may need to wait, or she can be bait and lead it on a chase through the streets, which is much more her area of expertise. Hand taken she smiles. Not even mad for being called Prissy. Which normally would get people a mental slap. Instead she gives Tony a narrowed eye look. "I'm not Prissy. I'm Priss. If you want Prissy, I can be some jumped up cheerleader oh chase me boys type" she says, with sweetness, then she cracks up giggling. "I work with those types. Believe me, they have no clue how things work. I'll get on emailing the prospectus indeed, and thank you for your time"

She's survived for this long, a trip to Stark Tower. And she's played the dutiful businesswoman on a business trip. See. See, Zealot. Priss /can/ do this! Without killing anyone...yet. Priss glances to the door. "Can you tell your secretary she does a fantastic job?" she asks and nods, pulling a business card out of a pocket on her suit jacket. "Please, keep this somewhere safe" she asks. Oh, if anyone figures out she's Voodoo. Well. Well...great, but for now. She's just plain old Priss, in Tony's office, andd everything is going amazingly well for now. Just need to get out of here, and lure the Demonite after her, and deal with that when it's not in Stark's tower. Bad for business really, at least for Priscilla.

Iron Man has posed:
Clearly, Tony is a bit torn as he takes the business card. On the one hand, it's probably got germs on it. But on the other, it's probably got her phone number on it. It doesn't take a telepath to figure out some of the things going through Tony's mind at the moment, but he's a fairly predictable guy, except for when he's not.

"I'll be sure to remember that, Priss. Or I'll remember to order a cheerleader uniform, either way, I'll remember something."

The door whooshes open, and Tony slides the busines card into his pocket without looking at it. He'll be glad he kept it if he ever gets attacked by a Daemonite, which there is apparently a more than zero percent chance of. Who'd have figured.

"This has been unusual. I like it though, unusual things don't happen nearly often enough. Make sure that you keep your Stark Phone charged up, because you might be getting a call sooner than you think."

The secretary pretends that she wasn't listening in on the conversation the entire time. Something else she must have picked up from the Pepper Potts School of Tony Management. Tony gives her a wink, and she manages to blush and scowl at the same time.

That's professionalism.

Waving, Tony disappears behind the whooshing metal doors, and breathes a deep sigh. He's not at all sure what to make of what just happened, but he's sure of one thing...

"Hey DX-4321, I need another scotch."