(no subject)
Comfortable is the last thing that Mari Jiwe McCabe feels as she stares down at the snake-like gown that clings to her every curve. She bites back a frown and runs a hand through her short black hair, effectively ruining the sleek, flattened out side-parted style that her stylist had formed it into. Her gown is the final piece of Valenciago's fashion show, and more importantly, it is the European designer's masterpiece.
Quietly, she fingers the fox-shaped pendant known as the Tantu Totem that she always wears around her slender neck, no matter how many designers bid her to take it off for their shows. It is a family heirloom, and Mari has fought hard to retrieve it from the man she hates to consider as her uncle, but to whom she is bound by familial blood. Granted, the heirloom also gives Mari mystical powers that aid her in her fight against evil - god she hates how those words sound - but that isn't why she feels as connected to it as she does. It's because it's the only thing she owns that connects her to the rest of her very dead family.
Mari's thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Giuliana St. James, a rival model whom Mari's never much appreciated. An Italian-Korean hybrid, Giuliana iss deathly beautiful, though her looks don't bear the same sort of regality that Mari's own looks do. Or at least, that's what the Italian, the French, and the Chinese publications of the fashion magazine Belle always seem to state.
"I see Valenciago chose you to be the final girl this time around," Giuliana says as she sidles up at the mirror next to Mari. She nudges Mari the slightest bit with a hip that's too wide by half a centimeter, and Mari bites back any snarky comments that immediately spring to her mind. "Figures he would. Aren't you nearing your swan song as a model anyway, Mari?" Giuliana asks, pronouncing it as though her name were Mary. Mari knows that she's doing it to annoy the hell out of her, but Mari's beyond playing petty model games now. She's been a model for the better part of eight years, and a hero for a little over half that, and she'd only played those games her first year in the business.
Mari just gives Giuliana a small smile and says, in a voice that's low, rich, and yet unmistakably feminine, "Yes, that's what I've heard. I suppose it's high time anyway, don't you? After all, they are calling me the last of the supermodels," she quips, adding emphasis on the word 'super'. It'd hurt Giuliana to no end, just knowing that she wouldn't ever reach the heights that Mari and her predecessors had reached. Though modelling is still a lucrative industry, the reign of supermodels has long since ended, with none of the younger crowd - Giuliana included - being given that particular title. The first of the supermodels, a woman named Paige Monroe, had despised every woman who had come after her to be given that title as she felt it lessened her own value. No one knows quite what had happened to Paige after she left the industry, but it is Mari's firm belief that Giuliana had come into the modelling industry infused with Paige's dark soul. From what her old agent had pointed out, Giuliana apparently resembles Paige quite a bit, a fact which no doubt had swelled Giuliana's hips that extra half centimeter. After all, Giuliana's head is already too full of her ego for it to hold anything else to swell it.
Giuliana's face sours and she opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, both women hear Mari's name being called. Mari merely flashes Giuliana one more grin before turning around and sashaying out towards the catwalk. In the dark area, just before Mari hits the catwalk, she places a finger on the Tantu Totem and taps into the morphogenetic field to channel the abilites of a snake. A glowing form of a snake appears around her for a split second before Mari slinks out onto the catwalk, her movements fluid and snakelike. She hears a gasp of awe as she walks, and a smile threatening to break her expression of tough sensuality. She loves this, the thrill of being on the catwalk in front of hundreds of people while she's being videotaped and photographed. She doesn't live for it in maybe the same day that Booster Gold does, but she thrives on it.
Thrives on it almost as much as she does donning her purple costume and duking it out with some big bad or another.
Mari stops at the end of the catwalk and turns her head one way and then another before turning once more and striking a second pose. She then turns and walks back down the catwalk, working her dress. She stops once more halfway down the catwalk and turns around to show off Valenciago's masterpiece one more time. Her last moment of fashion glory for the night is ruined by the sudden cut of the loud techno music that had been thumping loudly over the speakers to match Mari's walk. A murmur comes over the crowd which is soon cut by a loud, nearly blood-curdling scream from backstage.
Mari knows the voice well. It belongs to Giuliana St. James. Her eyes growing wide, Mari touches the Totem again, this time calling upon the powers of a cheetah. A frown across her features, Mari zips backstage, her movements incredibly fast but incredibly graceful as she rounds the corner to come face to face a gaggle of girls - all of her model peers - with fear etched across each and every one of their unique faces. She smells the scent of Chabanel No. 6 clearly. It permeates the air around her, and this being a Valenciago show, she knows that no one here is wearing it.
"Where's Giuliana?" Mari asks the model closest to her. It's a newer model, Mari knows, a girl from Metropolis who was having great luck in the industry thanks to the Kryptonian slant she had given her first name - Jan-Is.
"The woman took her," Jan-Is replied, her tone fearful, yet also a little reverential. Come on, Mari thought to herself, this is no time to be in awe of me. "In the costume. With the white mask."
"White mask? Was it Harley Quinn?" Mari knew it couldn't be her. Harley wore white make-up, not a white mask.
"N-no. She called herself Calendar Girl. Said she was the next in a new b-breed of supermodel."
Mari frowns. That doesn't sound good. If this Calendar Girl - and gods, could she not have thought of a lamer name? - had kidnapped Giuliana, then...then what? Mari wasn't even sure why this girl would have kidnapped Giuliana. Mari asks Jan-Is, who simply tells her,
"She said that she didn't like the way Giuliana looked...that she didn't have a right to look like that."
Mari's frown deepens. That's not good. The last thing they need is another dead person. Hearing police sirens in the background, Mari tells Jan-Is to stay there and tell the police what had inspire. Channeling the powers of a bloodhound, Vixen leaps out into the night to track down the trail of the scent that she's sure leads to this Calendar Girl.
Quietly, she fingers the fox-shaped pendant known as the Tantu Totem that she always wears around her slender neck, no matter how many designers bid her to take it off for their shows. It is a family heirloom, and Mari has fought hard to retrieve it from the man she hates to consider as her uncle, but to whom she is bound by familial blood. Granted, the heirloom also gives Mari mystical powers that aid her in her fight against evil - god she hates how those words sound - but that isn't why she feels as connected to it as she does. It's because it's the only thing she owns that connects her to the rest of her very dead family.
Mari's thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Giuliana St. James, a rival model whom Mari's never much appreciated. An Italian-Korean hybrid, Giuliana iss deathly beautiful, though her looks don't bear the same sort of regality that Mari's own looks do. Or at least, that's what the Italian, the French, and the Chinese publications of the fashion magazine Belle always seem to state.
"I see Valenciago chose you to be the final girl this time around," Giuliana says as she sidles up at the mirror next to Mari. She nudges Mari the slightest bit with a hip that's too wide by half a centimeter, and Mari bites back any snarky comments that immediately spring to her mind. "Figures he would. Aren't you nearing your swan song as a model anyway, Mari?" Giuliana asks, pronouncing it as though her name were Mary. Mari knows that she's doing it to annoy the hell out of her, but Mari's beyond playing petty model games now. She's been a model for the better part of eight years, and a hero for a little over half that, and she'd only played those games her first year in the business.
Mari just gives Giuliana a small smile and says, in a voice that's low, rich, and yet unmistakably feminine, "Yes, that's what I've heard. I suppose it's high time anyway, don't you? After all, they are calling me the last of the supermodels," she quips, adding emphasis on the word 'super'. It'd hurt Giuliana to no end, just knowing that she wouldn't ever reach the heights that Mari and her predecessors had reached. Though modelling is still a lucrative industry, the reign of supermodels has long since ended, with none of the younger crowd - Giuliana included - being given that particular title. The first of the supermodels, a woman named Paige Monroe, had despised every woman who had come after her to be given that title as she felt it lessened her own value. No one knows quite what had happened to Paige after she left the industry, but it is Mari's firm belief that Giuliana had come into the modelling industry infused with Paige's dark soul. From what her old agent had pointed out, Giuliana apparently resembles Paige quite a bit, a fact which no doubt had swelled Giuliana's hips that extra half centimeter. After all, Giuliana's head is already too full of her ego for it to hold anything else to swell it.
Giuliana's face sours and she opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, both women hear Mari's name being called. Mari merely flashes Giuliana one more grin before turning around and sashaying out towards the catwalk. In the dark area, just before Mari hits the catwalk, she places a finger on the Tantu Totem and taps into the morphogenetic field to channel the abilites of a snake. A glowing form of a snake appears around her for a split second before Mari slinks out onto the catwalk, her movements fluid and snakelike. She hears a gasp of awe as she walks, and a smile threatening to break her expression of tough sensuality. She loves this, the thrill of being on the catwalk in front of hundreds of people while she's being videotaped and photographed. She doesn't live for it in maybe the same day that Booster Gold does, but she thrives on it.
Thrives on it almost as much as she does donning her purple costume and duking it out with some big bad or another.
Mari stops at the end of the catwalk and turns her head one way and then another before turning once more and striking a second pose. She then turns and walks back down the catwalk, working her dress. She stops once more halfway down the catwalk and turns around to show off Valenciago's masterpiece one more time. Her last moment of fashion glory for the night is ruined by the sudden cut of the loud techno music that had been thumping loudly over the speakers to match Mari's walk. A murmur comes over the crowd which is soon cut by a loud, nearly blood-curdling scream from backstage.
Mari knows the voice well. It belongs to Giuliana St. James. Her eyes growing wide, Mari touches the Totem again, this time calling upon the powers of a cheetah. A frown across her features, Mari zips backstage, her movements incredibly fast but incredibly graceful as she rounds the corner to come face to face a gaggle of girls - all of her model peers - with fear etched across each and every one of their unique faces. She smells the scent of Chabanel No. 6 clearly. It permeates the air around her, and this being a Valenciago show, she knows that no one here is wearing it.
"Where's Giuliana?" Mari asks the model closest to her. It's a newer model, Mari knows, a girl from Metropolis who was having great luck in the industry thanks to the Kryptonian slant she had given her first name - Jan-Is.
"The woman took her," Jan-Is replied, her tone fearful, yet also a little reverential. Come on, Mari thought to herself, this is no time to be in awe of me. "In the costume. With the white mask."
"White mask? Was it Harley Quinn?" Mari knew it couldn't be her. Harley wore white make-up, not a white mask.
"N-no. She called herself Calendar Girl. Said she was the next in a new b-breed of supermodel."
Mari frowns. That doesn't sound good. If this Calendar Girl - and gods, could she not have thought of a lamer name? - had kidnapped Giuliana, then...then what? Mari wasn't even sure why this girl would have kidnapped Giuliana. Mari asks Jan-Is, who simply tells her,
"She said that she didn't like the way Giuliana looked...that she didn't have a right to look like that."
Mari's frown deepens. That's not good. The last thing they need is another dead person. Hearing police sirens in the background, Mari tells Jan-Is to stay there and tell the police what had inspire. Channeling the powers of a bloodhound, Vixen leaps out into the night to track down the trail of the scent that she's sure leads to this Calendar Girl.