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Given that the current watch includes two very capable fighters, Mearc is currently comfortable texting Cory to request she meet him inside the church the clergyhouse that contains the comatose is attached to. As abandoned a building, it has not gotten the same safehouse treatment and is currently a bit of a mess.
Mearcstapa seems to have set himself up to camp out here, with a small lantern and a sleeping bag set up between two pews, and he's currently sitting on one of the wooden benches, his cell phone on his lap, watching a video on American Sign Language while he waits for the vampire to come meet him.
There's nothing to pay attention to, and then there is- someone knocking on the inside of the doorframe. If he turns to look, he'll catch Cory there, rapping her knuckles on the wood with exaggerated care. Come to think of it, having encountered individuals with super-human levels of... various attributes, Mearcstapa might even recognize someone trying very hard to avoid doing an awful lot of damage without trying. "Hey. You're M, right?" To her credit, she seems perfectly aware she will absolutely butcher his name given half a chance. "Cory. Pleasure. Nice church you got here."
He shuts off the screen of his phone, tucking it away in a pocket before standing. "Mearcstapa. Mearc, if that's too much of a mouthful." Offering her the pronunciations without any indication that he's annoyed at having to do so. "And thank you, Esme suggested it would be a solid location."
"It is, yeah. Not the sort of place folx linger after dark, ironically." Cory strides into the chapel, hooking her thumbs into her pockets as she does. "Mearc...stapa. Hm. Mearcstapa. I'll try. No promises I won't suck at the name." Her intonation is flat, but she doesn't seem insincere. "So. Shit's pretty rough in your neck of the woods, too, huh?"
"Shit has officially hit the fan. Shit has been rough sub rosa for a while now, as certain parties realized one of our own was a traitor to some of our most fundamental laws and beliefs--stuff that would affect the entire population of the city. At least, the human population."
He pauses, a thoughtful expression hitting his face before he looks toward her. Though at no point does he seem to make direct eye contact. "Do vampires dream?"
Interestingly enough, Cory seems more interested in observing their surroundings than staring at Mearcstapa. "Yeah, we got something similar. Some sort of... infectious possession that's made at least one person turn their back on the city in a pretty lousy way. And that's without even getting into the old-ass motherfucker who's been chewing on all the new kids."
"Huh? Yeah. They're weird, but they're there. Why?"
"Okay, so it wouldn't only have affected the human population, it would have fucked you all up as well, if she had succeeded." He offers a crooked smile without any real warmth, moving to sit back down again. "Anyway, recent speculation is that there may actually be a spirit or ghost that the attacker is allied with or somehow using. Possibly even anchored to her knife? There's a lot that's unknown right now."
"Eh? What's this about us getting fucked?" Cory turns towards Mearcstapa and looks his way for the first time.
"Eh, if there is, I can still punch it. I've got tricks that make me a nightmare for anything like that. Especially since most of the time, they can't hit me while they're being all ghosty but I can sure as fuck smack them around. And she's got some kinda special knife? You want I should wreck it?" Every word delivered in the same shortband frequencies, her speech never deviating too far from that calm tone.
"Without dreams, the human mind fails. It's hard to recover mentally and emotionally from the day's events without that outlet to process. Slowly, it can break down the mind, and eventually lead to clumsiness and brain fog in one's waking life. While I'm not sure if that would have happened to you in the same way, I'm sure the loss of dreams would have an effect." He gestures a little as he talks.
"As for the knife...cold iron is very dangerous to changelings. It causes grievous bodily harm to us--think of it as being similar to a bane for a spirit? It's a bane for us. The troubling part of it is, she shouldn't have been able to pull her disappearing tricks--into twilight or going invisible like some of us can do--while holding iron. Which is why we have to posit the existence of another something that allowed her to disappear after she made her first attack."
"Oh."
Cory tries to follow, but it's clear she's having a hard time tracking all the different physiological and psychological damage that lack of REM sleep can cause. "So if you can't dream, then- you just sorta start to crumble and get foggy mentally, huh? Yeah, I dunno if it'd have the same effect on us, but- heck, maybe. Good thing we won't have to find out."
"Huh. Well, as it happens, neither iron nor knives is... really all that dangerous to us at all. Might be if it's got some sorta spirit or ghost juju going on." She rubs at her chin a moment, staring into the middle distance as she considers. "Wait, what do you mean after her first attack? Does she, like- have to be visible after she attacks or something?"
"Well, you said it yourself, earlier. 'They can't hit me when they're being all ghosty.' Unless she's using other methods of being invisible, in which case...she'll get one attack in and that'll break her invisibility. I know you guys have something that doesn't make you invisible-invisible, but makes the mind skip over you? We do something which makes us invisible to all senses."
A pause. "Also, don't try to wrestle, grapple or tie down the attacker. That will not work for more than a couple seconds."
"Huh. Cool trick. I might need to brush up on ways to crack stuff like that," Cory murmurs. "If she shows up, I'm gonna hit her, and if I hit her, that's- well, hopefully, it'll put her lights out. If it doesn't, rinse and repeat until it does. I will need to make sure I can keep sight of her, though. so. That's good news. But yeah. I don't really rely on a grip to keep someone where I want them. I'm more of a "beat unconscious first, ask questions later" kind of girl."
"Please don't demonstrate with me." But his grin makes it clear he'd never expect her to. "Is there any other information you feel you need, in order to do your job?"
Cory spends a moment in thought, rolling things over in her head as best she can. "Ahh... no, that's really about it. I mean, obviously, I'd like any useful info on what she can do, but I'm pretty sure you gave me that, already, so. Unless you can show me what she looks like, that's good enough."
"Note: we can't discount the possibility of accomplices, who would possibly have other talents and would look different, but she's a woman in her forties. She has shoulder-length hair. Wears glasses. I honestly can't give you hair or eye color--I've never seen her human mask."
He offers a crooked smile. "Most other changelings wouldn't be able to tell you my hair or eye color, in turn. Freckles, those they can see, but beyond that, I look very different to them than I do to you. More alien, more fae."
"Oh, huh. That's- okay. That scans." That at least makes sense, though it's not super helpful. "She ever been in the news? Someone I could find a picture of online or something then?"
"I'm not sure if she has or not..." He pulls out his phone to do a google search, coming up with a picture from 2010 or so: a picture attached to an orphaned website from a housing non profit she used to be involved with about 10 years ago.
"Not recent, but this is her."
Cory moves to watch while he does his work, nodding as he finds a picture. "Heyhey. That's something to go off of. Thanks. There anything in particular you need to tell me to do or not do? Aside from don't be a cunt, which sorta goes unsaid?"
“I mean, I have said it very explicitly to the other vampires I have standing watch. Mostly because Atalo has the social graces God gave his German Shepherd.” There’s a crooked smile.
Cory cracks an actual smile at that, protesting, "Hey, be nice, Cerberus is a good boy." Chuckling, she nods. "Alright. Then, I'll make myself available, soon as I can top off each evening, 'til I gotta bed down in the morning. You'll lemme know if something changes, right?"
“I will, definitely. Thank you for your help, Cory. While I’m not a fighter, if you ever need help with matters of security in the future, please consider me?”
"Sure," Cory agrees. "You mean like. Alarms and stuff, right?"
“Alarms, locks, physical bypass, credential stealing, and eliminating such problems. Esme could vouch for my skill set.” He nods.
"Cool. Well, I have yet to ascend to the official vampire rank of evil overlord, but soon as I do, I'll make sure to contract you to kit out my sick-ass evil lair." One thing to be said for Cory's shortband tonality- deadpan deliveries sure do sound great.
He laughs brightly. "I can do that, definitely. Alright, I think that's all I needed to be comfortable--a face to put to the name and a sense of what you're about. I'm good now."
Cory flashes Mearc a thumbs up. "I'll do my best to make sure your Sleeping Beauty's story doesn't get rewritten by some bitch with an iron pen. Meanwhile, take care of you and yours, awright?"
"I'm trying, Cory. I'm trying. Good night." He nods.
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