The youthful, somewhat lyrical female voice from the buzzer-thingers answered the statement he sent out to nothing in particular. The voice itself also came from nothing in particular, but it was close. Sitting right next to him, kind of close, except there wasn't a chair. Just an empty space between the floor and hovering over the table he sat at that now had a voice.
Marceline had been there almost as soon as he was, but she'd gone invisible for caution's sake. Though her skin was healed from it's brief darting around in the sun, playing bat-bait to the Horror stuffed inside Pinkie's body, there was still a lot of nastiness going around the town. She may've always played the unflappable devil-may-care, mostly because there wasn't a lot out there that could hurt her, but this place... Marrowood made her nervous. She didn't show it. She couldn't, not without getting angry at herself (and that literally wasn't a pretty sight), so going around unseen and watching who exactly she was supposed to be meeting was the best next option.