"No. That's actually off limits," Serena said with a flash of seriousness, "I don't care about politics but you're treading close to family."

Notably she doesn't miss a step in the dance despite her refusal.

"We both know you're going to win. Don't ruin it by being as petty as some of your peers."

"Fair enough," Bodie nodded in acknowledgement,  "You asked me out here for a conversation.
You choose the topic".
And with a swift, smooth move ... she spun the two women back into a position in which Serena was taking the lead:  an analogy for the discussion.

It seemed that they were NOT talking shop, and they were not connecting on personal level.
Bodie wondered where Serena wanted this to go.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:41, Thu 11 Nov 2021.

"Honestly, it has to be the military service that does it," Serena sighed, "Let's table that as a topic for if we end up much closer. One doesn't start with the worst event in someone's life that had the happy bonus of a media frenzy."

They went through two more minutes of dancing.

"Decided where you're going to spend the big night? I know everyone wants the drama of a packed campaign headquarters as each vote is counted. You seem more sensible, wine and cheese while enjoying a hot bath perhaps."

Bodie smiled.    "That ... actually sounds quite perfect, doesn't it", she said, honestly, and a bit dreamily.  "And the best place to be to cry if need be, also".

"You seem a lot more confident with my position than I do", she mentioned, before going on to actually answer the question, "To be honest, I've not planned anything for the 'big night' yet.   I should get some thought on that happening, I guess ... and my people on to it.

Your husband knows how to put on a good show.  Remind me," she asked, "Where did he celebrate when he won this last term?"

"The wine is going to your head, darling. The field is all fresh candidates," Serena replied calmly, "I'm putting him to bed early and turning off the phones. It can wait until morning either way."

She laughed quietly.

"At the rate you're going there .ay not be a second round."

Bodie smirked at Serena's assertion of putting Lawson to bed early.   Somehow, Bodie didn't like the woman's chances.

At the claim there may not be a second round, she shrugged, uncertain.  "I don't think that is likely, but can't say I'd be disappointed".
And with that, Bodie willed an Infectious Passion in on the woman.   Let Serena carry away a great admiration for Bodie Queen ... and infect others with that passion as the hours continued.   Spending 1 Effort for the scene, of course.  Thats Two uses of that Gift this scene, in this club.   And I'll throw 1 Influence in on that for the 'plausible affect over this small village' worth of folk here tonight ... using body language and a happy, relaxed demeanour ... to help that Infectious Passion spread thick and wide here tonight.


As that song came to an end, Bodie disengaged from Serena, with a smile and a bow.   "It was nice meeting you, Mrs Lawson.    And I thank you for the dance; it will likely be the highlight of my night".   Then Bodie made her way off the dance floor, headed to the bar where she could see Nalisha awaited, watching with her eagle-eye.

Activating People’s Champion  As she did so, Bodie noticed Anton Burling, Assistant Police Commissioner for the LAPD.   Veering casually in his direction, she allow him to see her approach before she arrived, so as not to surprise him.
But he was (maybe not a good friend, but) a good enough acquaintance that she felt comfortable leaning in for a friendly hug and air kiss.   "Good Evening, Anton.   Enjoying the music?"



People’s Champion
Your contacts are tremendously useful ... You can always find a local contact appropriate to your background if it's remotely plausible, and this contact will always be able to offer as much help as a normal human in an important position could offer.

Infectious Passion
Commit Effort for the scene to plant a seed of a particular emotional attitude toward a chosen person or topic in a visible target. If that target is affected, they become infectious, spreading that same attitude toward their friends and associates over the course of a single contact.
The infection can spread five or six degrees before it loses its magical potency, usually enough to completely overwhelm a village, court, or neighborhood. Lesser foes get no saving throw, but worthy enemies can save versus Spirit to resist. It lasts until the Godbound releases the victims or the emotion becomes blatantly inappropriate.

Serena parted amicably, moving to take a bass player in a classic rock player onto the floor a few moments later.

"Yes, if the boss asks. It's pretty but I'm a fifty year old punk at heart," Anton told her cheerfully, "Still, I won the raffle and maybe the culture will cross over osmotically. No assistant tonight?"

"No, but I do have a little bird watching my back", Bodie replied with a smile.   "Just to might right over there, leaning against the corner" ... and 'casually' watching the crowd around and about where Bodie and Anton were.

"I hope these lucky folk get to soak up some 'old punk' tonight, as a bonus for their cultural appreciation of the arts".

Bodie spent the rest of the night socialising ... with Anton, with others, anyone who wanted to chat with her.
Nalisha knew that any problems in this environment were to be dealt with as such:   let them come, and let Bodie give them a chance to speak their mind civilly.   Meanwhile, Nalisha could get behind them, and if at any time it got physically nasty, then Nalisha was in position to handle that ... to the aggressors surprise.   After all, Bodie could handle herself defensively for the few moments that would take.   And it would look good if she was willing to talk, then amply defended herself from aggression if needed, till her bodyguard stepped in.


IF nothing else happened in the night ...

It was a quiet night for the most part. Weird hobbies were de riguer for most of the attendees so once enough alcohol had made the rounds the conversation was an eclectic mélange. A little after eleven her bodyguard and chauffer escorted her back.

Bodie was happy with that night ... and once home, Bodie ensured that Nalisha was paid well.


As she lay in bed, she used her phone to scan the usual public media forums with regard to anything of her night.
As that scene has ended, Bodie will get her 2 Effort back.
If she can find a good clip that someone filmed this evening, doing the rounds well on social media, Bodie will bury a message deep within that footage that will be carried out into the public to anyone who sees that footage.
The message was, that 'when it came time to vote in the upcoming election for the Las Angeles Mayor, trust in Bodie Queen'.


A Song Buried Deep Action
Commit Effort for the day and choose a phrase, passage of music, image, or person in your presence. At a time or context of your choosing, the sight or experience of that subject unleashes the effects of a Banner of Passion on all present. You can define the context as precisely as you wish and choose the Banner's effects and focus beforehand. The maximum range of this effect is one mile per level of the Godbound.
Note that the effects apply to any matching phrase, music, or image;
if the Godbound uses this power on a nation's battle flag and bids it trigger for friendly soldiers when facing combat, every allied military unit within miles will be affected provided they've got a matching battle flag. If the Godbound imbues a traditional greeting with the passion, then every person who hears the greeting will be affected.

Please,  how long IC till the election?
Unless you throw some problem/s at Bodie, I/she plans to handle matters as she has been:
- organise and attend events and functions: political or social
     - continue touching base with Vine and Graff ... individually, and discussing what she can do for them, should she get into office.
     - similarly, make contact with Ayres, and do the same.
- each day, use her Effort to create Infection Passion and A Song Buried Deep ... swaying the emotions of those across the city (and beyond) towards admiration and trust in her.

I am happy to role-play any stuff you wish, but other than focusing on the campaign, and swaying the hearts of men, Bodie isn't intending on anything else right now.

A week passes and Bodie has established a dozen point lead. She's nearly reached the point where there wouldn't be a second election but the margin of safety keeps slipping just out of reach. Lucinda has been going after things like a dog gnawing a bone trying to draw just a few more percentage points. Nalisha has quietly swapped out the office coffee with decaf specifically to keep the girl manageable. Three days left, if counting the actual counting, recounting, and rampant arguments that would follow.

She's going to win, it's obvious, but a plurality victory means the campaign will run another month. Her staff's cheerful but nobody is looking forward to a slog where it was theirs to lose.

"Okay, hear me out, if we only maim them a little," Lucinda grouses, hair in a lazy ponytail and having opted for what looks like a modern toga, "I know, I know, too easy to get caught. Think we can get Vines or Graff to throw in at this point? They've got to be as tired as we are."

“The Romans are coming”, Bodie said, giving Lucinda a hug … and in doing so, used one Effort for the day to enact a miracle: calming her right hand’s anxious and obsessive heart.

‘The Romans are coming’.   It was something they’d all heard Bodie say at one time or another: whether muttered or boldly stated.
Nobody quite understood what it meant, exactly.  But essentially it was Bodie’s way of saying ‘Calm down, it’ll be ok.  We’ll survive this’.

“Marcel, I want you and Lucinda to organise a dinner for us all.  Tomorrow night … my shout.   Not campaign, you understand.
Maybe book out a local Chinese place for a corporate function.  Just … give us something to look forward to, something to let our hair down and unwind a little”.

If this had to run the gauntlet of actual counting, recounting, and rampant arguments, then so be it.  Bodie was ready for that: it was all part of the game.
Deep in memories she had never lived, a life that had ended way before her time, Bodie had fought bigger battles than this one.
The Roman’s were coming:  and Bodie would rally her people, and face them as necessary.


Later that night, however, after most everyone had left the campaign offices … they were, at this time of the campaign, never entirely empty; and Bodie had needed to threaten Lucinda with police ejection before the woman had allowed Nalisha to drive her home … Bodie sat at a random desk, in a very darkened corner, staring out the window at the fairyland lights of the city.
Deep in thought.    She sighed out a huge lungful, when she realised that she’d been holding her breath now for far to long.

And that’s what these final days of the election campaign felt like:  a proverbial ‘holding of the breath for far to long’.
All the work had been done, and really now was just a time of waiting … of impending ‘what?’

Bodie's phone buzzed with a text shortly after Lucinda and most of the rest were ejected.

Hail Queen of the Iceni,

We should meet in a few weeks. As a good faith gesture would you prefer Vines or Graff to fully concede? No torture, violence or coercion.

The number is international, German if memory serves, and unknown to her.

Bodie looked at the screen for a good long while.   She didn't like such cryptic introductions: they reeked of manipulation.
But she had to acknowledge that the sender had got her attention.

After a while, she replied with:

Please do not influence this election on my behalf
                         She really didn't need that kind of Trojan gift (or interference)
If you wish to show good faith, reveal yourself and make your introductions with honour.


Then, she did a cursory google search of the international number it came from.
It was the first, and simplest, step in divining the origins.

But she expected to come against a wall of secrecy;  and so another option was formulating in her mind.

It was a German phone number.

Ruler of the Underworld, Master of Cages, and Civil Servant (Interpol). Johnathan, detective, work had me out here, taking a few days off. Ereshkigal, if you know the name.

A Sumerian Goddess?    I AM honoured.
It's a pleasure to meet you Jonathan ... ?
Would you like to meet for lunch?

Egh. She was always the supporting role in someone else's legend.

Band, although I prefer full introduction in person.

Lunch with an Interpol Agent, mayor-to-be? Seems like feeding the conspiracy crowd. Indian cuisine good?

Name your time and place, Jonathan Band ...
anything other than dinner tomorrow night
    that was, of course, reserved for the dinner she and her team were having.

Haven't been there long enough to have a spot. Spice Affair looks about right. Noon tomorrow?

Bodie was at  Spice Affair  around 11.30am.

She'd booked a table, in her name, and was casually sitting, checking out some correspondence on her phone, waiting for Mr Band to arrive.

The staff requested her beverage order and checked in twenty minutes later. At 11.55 a man just a hair over or under six feet with blond hair entered. He was lean, dressed in a charcoal black suit with grey dress shirt and white gloves. His eyes were hidden behind circular sunglasses with side baffles, blue tinted glass.

A moment later the wait staff escorted him over, he placed a brown briefcase beside his seat.

"Fraulein Queen," he said in greeting, "I trust you are in good health?"

"Herr Band", Bodie replied ... the pun was unintended.
She rose to greet him, "It is a pleasure tomato your acquaintance", offering her hand.

As they sat, she continued, "I am well enough, thank you.   May the small gods smile upon us both".

While the wait staff was still present, she ordered herself an apple and watermelon frappe, before gesturing to her guest that he might place his order.

After the waiter left them, she turned her attention back to Jonathan Band and said, "I must admit to several intrigues within your introduction.

But I must not hasten into 'shop talk' till you are ready.
May I ask, what brings you to our fair city ... and country, for that matter?"

He ordered an oddly specific tea in what, to Bodie's ear, sounded like fluent Hindi.

"Work. Several rather unique articles were stolen some months ago and I followed them here. The thieves are awaiting extradition but I had personal affairs to attend to," Band answered, "Things are calmer here than Europe."

He waved a hand dismissively.

"We can discuss the more recondite matters if you prefer. The minutia of high-value smuggling is far more dull than cinema makes it out to be."

Bodie smiled at this, "I can imagine.   The Big Screen makes political life look exciting also.

Tell me, Mr Band ..."  and Bodie couldn't help hearing the 007 Theme playing in her head, "How is it you knew of my previous life?   I have spoken of nobody about it".

And she watched him intently now, scrutinising his reactions and tone and words for lies and deception.
FACT: Bodie Queen is a very successful politician:  a master manipulator and social maestro
- rolled 5 using 1d20.  Wisdom check (5+) needed before FACT.