Reroll

I of course bring Alice down with me in my ship,  with my other pets stored in Starfinder's Null Space Kennels. Yes, I can recreate her trivially in a few minutes, but I might as well keep her nearby, and I used the one expansion bay of personal starship for seating, so I can shuffle some twenty people at once. I also take my mage possie, of course, with all of them currently set so only I can interact.

As my Eidolon is flying the ship in for a landing, Ed forwards an email to my comm, which I read; seems Ms. O'Brian really meant as soon as possible.

So I direct my Eidolon to do an orbital hop to the correct address. Once we're over the building, I take my proxy and leave the ship via an airlock, sending my Eidolon back up to the mothership.  Invisible, silent, and completely undetectable to anyone other than my illusionary companion - who can currently only interact with me - and we both go into the lobby.

I instruct Alice through a few things: “You're my proxy for this interview: You're translating what I say, so the questions and answers aren't yours, they're mine. Nothing you say is deception, you're just relaying.”

“Certainly mistress,” the creature responds.

That may seem strange, but it's a skill hack: Bluff and Sense Motive ultimately work on the subject's perception of truth. If you need to lie to a dragon who has an effectively unbeatable Sense Motive, you don't lie to the dragon… you lie to the messenger who's actually going to talk to the dragon.  The person doing the actual talking has no deception (the messenger believes it to be true), so the dragon won't pick up on it, as long as the relayed message is within reason.

Rosie O'Brian isn't a dragon to my knowledge, but I may as well be prepared; she IS a talk show host.

The lobby is pretty nice; as a talk show, they generally have an actual audience for the recordings, so the lobby is set up for the actual public. There's chairs, a water bottle filling station (with paper cups), restrooms, and some light music playing from hidden speakers, plus TVs that are currently showing the Rosie O'Brian logo spinning.  There's also a front desk with a receptionist wearing a remarkably low-cut dress, showing off some serious cleavage which jiggles as she types away responding to some fan email.

“She's surgically modified,” my Perception ‘Al’ informs me, “She wasn't born to be that busty, or have such smooth skin.”

Hmm.  My suppression illusion talent includes touch… I could get away with… but no.  Just because I can do something doesn't make it right.

I switch ‘Alice’ to public viewing (Selective Illusions is fun), and start talking, “Hello, I'm here for an interview with Rosie O'Brian.”

My proxy dutifully repeats what I say, and the receptionist starts to say, “Rosie isn't accepting…” and then she actually sees the apparent angel in front of her, “Ah… you're HER?”

“Yes,” I answer via my proxy, “Ms. O'Brian should be expecting me.”

“Does this mean the big guy…” she can't complete the sentence.

I consider, “I expect that will come up in the interview, so… no spoilers.”

“Right… right… I'll go get her…” the receptionist leaves her desk and goes down the hall… leaving her computer open, not that it actually matters for me.

It's less than two minutes before Rosie herself comes strutting back down the hall, three people with what's clearly makeup and hair kits in their hands, plus two cameramen.

“Come in, let's get you ready…” Rosie practically drags my proxy to some backstage makeup mirrors (I nod to give the proxy the go-ahead), where they powder her up, neaten her hair, trim her nails, lengthen her lashes, give her a little blush, and otherwise get her camera ready.

And yes, it's for the camera: The lights on a stage or in a television studio are generally super strong, and anyone who doesn't wear makeup ends up seemingly bleached out, so everyone wears makeup on stage.

Meanwhile, Ms. O'Brian starts chatting with my proxy, “Thank you for coming, it's good to see you! I have so many questions… but of course, I need to ask: What won't you answer?”

Nice of her to get that out of the way… “My kind is actively hunted; I won't answer anything I believe might compromise another… which, because I do have contact with others, will also include details that identify my contacts or where I live when I'm not working,” I pause a moment, “although when you ask something I simply don't know, I plan to tell you that.”

The show host considers, “I can run with that, sure.  Oh, standard paperwork…” she has an assistant hand my proxy a clipboard.

I read it, and have my Al with Profession(Lawyer) take a look.  “It's basically just permission to broadcast whatever is said in the studio, with a note that they'll edit for profanity, camera angles, and time.  Oh, and you can't sue them about anything that happens today.”

I direct my proxy through signing it while speaking, “I don't actually have a legal identity anymore, so this isn't exactly enforceable, but here you go.”

Rosie shrugs as her assistant takes the clipboard, “The bigwigs still need me to get it signed; thanks.”

We finish the prep and head to the studio, and I see the area I've seen a handful of times on TV: The two big oversized green recliners, the zillion ferns, the show's logo in the background, and of course, the dozen feature film cameras on those fun looking lifts, the lighting array, and the audience seating… about half full.  

They start the intro music as Rosie struts on stage like always; I have my minion calmly follow.  Rosie takes the right recliner, my minion the left.  Ms. O'Brian does a nice little intro blurb, and gets down to business.

“So… Alice… the first question on everyone's mind: The Big Guy.”

I chuckle, “Haven't met him face to face. Less than a month ago, I was a perfectly normal college student.  Despite appearances, I'm not an angel in the divine sense.  A healer? Very much so.  A messenger?  Sometimes.  Do I fly?” I direct my minion through some loop de loops around the facility, and have her land back on the chair, “It's one of the good things that happened, definitely. But as far as I know, I'm just me.”

“You're human.”

I have my proxy shrug, “I certainly WAS, yes.  Whether that's still the case or not is… debatable.  I like to think I'm still human where it counts.”

“So how'd it happen?”

I cringe, “My supernatural origin is tied up with several other people's.  Details on that could lead back to them, and… well, you have seen the videos where I was shot in the face for healing sick kids, yes?”

“I think we all have, you're all over UsTube.”

“Okay, so… please understand, that wasn't my first encounter with those people.  Folks with events similar to what I went through are quietly hunted, and either killed or forced into servitude. I'm okay with risking my own neck, but others’? Not so much.”

“So how come we've never heard of this kind of thing before?”

“Okay… this is a funky one. As much as I hate to admit it, the hunters are, in fact, necessary... just overzealous and in need of remedial ethics lessons. One of my friends obtained a partial collection of their mission briefings… and frankly, most of the time when someone has an Origin, they turn into a monster in all senses of the word: They kill people indiscriminately, and are ‘infectious’ in that they sometimes convert other humans into their own form of monster. As far as I can tell, some ninety percent of supernatural people really do need to be put down like rabid dogs.”

“Wait… do you mean I might grow wings because you're here?”

“I have it on as good of an authority as I can safely find that I'm not meaningfully infectious… but flying is awesome.  Just saying.”

“I can believe that, but do continue….”

“Right.  Anyway, that other ten percent can be a serious boon to society at large.  I mean, how many lives have I saved?”

“One estimate stands at three thousand folks healed of fatal issues so far.”

“Sure, let's go with that; I haven't been counting. Now, my talents are particularly well suited for helping people… but most supernatural abilities can be put to good use with a little thought. Like… a mermaid would be of immense use to oceanography.  Anyone who can fly is ideal for aerial survey work. I’ve met people that can teleport… can you imagine what that could do for delivery services?  The giant types could easily replace cranes in construction work.  It just goes on and on.  But because the ‘Federal Bureau for the Preservation of Human Rights’ has more of a ‘shoot first’ policy when it comes to supernatural people, nobody benefits.”

“And how come we haven't heard of them?”

I have ‘Alice’ shrug, “They have their fingers pretty deep in the media. Honestly, I doubt you’ll be allowed to air this, but I have to try.”

“Good news: We’re live on the air.  I managed to convince the big boss it was worth it to interrupt whatever daytime show was running when you showed up as soon as you accepted… you hit the middle of ‘Muddled Management’.”

I hope that's true.  I quickly send a message to Ed to check. “Oh that is sweet.  Thank you.”

“No problem. So how are you able to get so much attention?”

I have my proxy shrug, “From what I've gathered… it is because I'm actively trying. The poor souls who become ravenous monsters make a mess and are quickly killed; then it's just a matter of silencing or discrediting any actual witnesses.  Those that retain their minds generally don't want to broadcast their ace in the hole - at least for a time - so they can use it… which means they hide their power, and when they're caught anyway, half the cover up work is already done.  Me? I'm being deliberately loud.” Also, it helps that there were a lot of decoys.

I get a nnoticefrom Ed: Yes, live.

Rosie touches her ear and holds up her hand… ah, she has an earpiece… “One minute… what do you mean, ‘technical difficulties’?”  She pauses.

Another notice from Ed: Off the air now.

My Perception ‘Al’ helpfully relays the other half of Rosie's conversation, “Eh, it's like the Hanoi incident.  We expect to have the situation resolved in one minute.”

My Sense Motive ‘Al’ fills me in, “That was a coded message.  The authorities are telling him to say it's technical difficulties, and he expects they'll have the place surrounded in that time.”

“Aha.  Well, Alice… now's a great time for a coffee break.  Here…” she gets up and takes my proxy's hand.

I direct my proxy through shaking her head, “Oh, there's no need to evacuate me.”

I focus a moment, duck underground, and continue directing my proxy.

“Just sit back down. Let them come.  Remember, I survived getting shot in the face.  I have a plan for this.  Just pretend I'm not here….”

The Guardians barge in, simultaneously from every door….