It’s Handled || Open
Meg held as still as possible as the make-up artist did some last-minute touch-ups of her makeup before they went live, mostly because she could tell how clearly anxious the woman was to be this close to her-- presumably because of her being, well, not human. Someone with a clipboard came over to give her some customary directions about how much time they were going to be on, what the topics they were going to discuss were and the like, giving the makeup artist a perfect opportunity to quickly excuse herself, but Meg made sure to give her a kind smile and a thank you anyways. She had to try to change people’s minds-- that was her job, after all.
In no time at all, she was on live TV, commenting on the latest news in politics, and having to argue with someone who, for the sake of allowing “diverse viewpoints” was not only allowed, but paid, to sit at the same table as her arguing about how supernaturals-- including her-- were somehow less than human. It was infuriating, having to constantly defend her own existence, but she knew she couldn’t lose her cool, because this was her job now. She had to try to change minds, make people see supernaturals as just like them. Not a threat, just people.
“With all due respect, Craig,” Meg interrupted the obnoxious older man’s rambling once she knew time was close to running out, “If supernaturals were the dangerous threat you and the candidate you support like to zealously claim we are, you wouldn’t be as safe as you are right now sitting across from me making those claims.” The anchor cut Craig off immediately afterwards, thanking them both for their time and allowing her to get the last word in. She smiled graciously, knowing the clip would soon be circling as a viral soundbite. Sometimes she really liked her job.
Meg completely ignored Craig when he walked over to try to speak to her once they weren’t on camera anymore-- she had no interest in two-faced people who believed in nothing and would say anything just for the money-- and instead thanked the host and some of the crew before grabbing her things from backstage and heading out, back home to the pack house and the very people she’d spent the past few years trying so hard to defend.
