huzzaaaaaaaah
The Studio
"Lives that wouldn't be in danger if these people weren't giving a stage for costumed freaks to perform on." Godfrey tapped his finger against his table, narrowing his eyes. "Let's list the big threats this city has faced in the past few years, shall we? The Joker, who at one point made the entire mutant community into superpowered nuclear bombs... operates entirely out of some made-up sense of kinship with the vigilante known as the Batman."
"She-Bat is not only the identity adopted by the Joker's former henchwoman, Harley Quinn," As Godfrey namedropped bad guys, their pictures appeared on the monitors displaying the live feed. "But she also despises the Justice Avengers for the 'part' they played on the death of the man known as Man-Bat."
"Remember the Music Meister?" Godfrey pointed right at Kate's face. "He was about to force the entirety of Madison Square Garden to do unthinkable acts simply because he had a grudge against Tony Stark! Reed Richards' failed space expedition, that freak Winter Storm near the Mall, Miss Martian's rampage and, of course, last night's ball. If we truly want to take care of this problem, then we have to go back to the source, right?"
"But I suppose you do have a point, Ms. Bishop. The damage has been done." At this moment, Godfrey's glance went from Kate to the cameras and back to Kate. "However, New York has an infestation. And what do you do with infestations? You limit and cut them down until there's no way they can escape. Which is why, Ms. Bishop, and I think you'll agree with me, we should institute metahuman registration."
"If you want to go fly around and fight crime, do it. But the government, the police, and the people should know your name, where you live, and they should be capable of making you own up to your own deeds. No more hiding behind a mask, or ivory mega-towers, or cleavage, or exceedingly elaborate Raccoon costumes. If these people want to represent us, I say then we should know who they are and why they're doing it!"
Sub-Basement
Usually, Megan would be standing in the background, trying hard to not squee at the encounter she was witnessing. But instead of doing that, she floated over to Darwin's side, giving him another short little wave and happily standing (well, hovering) besides him.
Manhattan
Axel was bored.
Sure, he had agreed to wait for The Question (and his mysterious companion) to arrive so they could investigate The Hellfire Club together. But patience was not one of his virtues.
As he walked around the block for the he-lost-track-already-eth time, he noticed some TVs turned on through a store glass display. He decided to step in and hope that a game or something similar was on.
But no sooner had he stepped inside the store, one of the screens greeted him with a face (and voice) that caused an automatic disgust reaction:
Godfrey.
Dammit, why did his show have to be on now? He turned around and almost left, until he heard the term "metahuman registration" act mentioned.
That sounded like something the Hellfire club might be interested in, he decided.
Against his better judgement, he turned around and watched more.
(He also noticed the girl old Grossface was talking to. She was... familiar, somehow. But he couldn't quite place her.)
edited 17th May '16 9:03:00 PM by Sijo
Love is Love is Love
The Night Before
Booster listened to Moon Knight and Iron Man's words and his arms slowly dropped down to his side.
"You're right," he admitted painfully. It was like trying to say that the sun was purple. "You're right, Stark. This isn't about us." He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Let's go home, Mark. I'll be right behind ya." Then he turned his attention to Iron Man again as Moon Knight walked away. "One of these days, though, Stark, we're going to do this again. Call it a funny feeling. And when we do?" He shrugged. "May the best man win." Then he grabbed Moon Knight and flew off the roof.
The Next Morning
Booster groaned before his world was brought to the freezing-cold present by a glass of ice water being dumped on his head. A glass belonging to Phil Coulson. After a string of expletives, Booster sat up in bed and stared at Coulson in shock.
"Don't ever do something like that again," Coulson warned, "Or I'm taking your badge and I'm benching you. I can use SHIELD's influence to get you blacklisted from every major television network and have your merchandising deals dropped. You'll disappear in a week. Understood." Booster groaned and nodded.
"Sir," Skeets chimed in, "I never got the chance to tell you last night, but your appearance on the Gordon Godfrey show is today." Coulson's face turned red with anger for a moment before Booster held up his hands.
"No stunts, I promise. No futuretalk, no trying to expose anything. I'm gonna talk for our side. It's gonna be fine." Coulson squinted at him and shrugged.
"Fine," he muttered, "But you are on thin ice." Booster gave him a thumbs up.
"What time's my interview, Skeets?"
"Ten O'Clock, sir."
"What time is it?"
"Nine forty-five, sir."
"...."
Another string of expletives followed before Booster was showered, dressed, and out the window, streaking through the sky towards Godfrey's studio, landing just as Godfrey was conducting his interview with a girl that Booster recognized as the mini-Hawkeye from the night before.
My various fanfics.
Studio
"People with secret identities have them for a reason! They have loved ones they want to protect from supervillains! Putting all of their personal information in the hands of the government would make it incredibly easy for bad guys to find their friends and family, or to attack them when they're in their civilian identity, not to mention the disaster that could happen if some lunatic working for the government wanted to wage war on metahumans and had access to all their personal information.
And metahuman registration? You're assuming that all metahumans are vigilantes and vice versa. What about metahumans with no interest in fighting crime? What about vigilantes with no superpowers? Are we just going to assume anyone with any unique skills should be forcibly registered?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Kate caught a glimpse of a man in shiny gold and blue spandex- Booster Gold.
Paige chuckled along with the rest of them. It had been pretty funny, she agreed (and certainly not the worth thing that had ever happened to her in school). She considered explaining the reason for her reaction, but they were probably used to the Professor being in their heads, and she didn't want to look like a novice.
"So, where do I put my stuff? And I left my bike out front-do you guys have a garage?" she asked the group of young mutants.
King of Lame-Style
Streets of New York
Ivan walked out of the cafe and lead his friend off to one of the many caches of supplies he had hid along the city. This one in particular was just an old briefcase he had planted in the backalley of a small unkempt, and more importanly, often ignored store a few blocks from the cafe they were in. As they walked Ivan gave Wes a rundown of what he knew of the Hellfire Club;
"Hellfire Club... the reason we're going to help the kid out is because he just go involved with one of the most dangerous secret societies in american history. I mean sure, they look like just a club for the rich and influential, the kind your mother might be part of. But that is just a front, of course. Wasn't always like that, back in the 18th century when it was founded it was just a society of nobles and intelectuals, but soon enough, when people with money, power and strong agendas get together, well, what's meant to happen happens, and inner groups within the Hellfire Club begin working their influence either because of personal plans or as proxy duels with other members. And wouldn't you know it, they're behind certain minor and major events that have shaped the history of our country wether by plan or by consequence, from bribing diplomats and politicians, to bankrolling crime organizations, some assassinations here and there of course." Said Ivan, finishing by fishing the briefcase out of the false panel of wall it was hidden in.
Inside it was a cheap simple looking gray overcoat and a mask, varied grenades, a modified airsoft pistol, a black wig and a short colappsed tophat he found at a novelty store. Ivan decided to change on the way toward Access' location, just before arriving in some alleyway perhaps. He hailed a cab and both he and his companion were on their way.
The graceless warrior, wielder of the edgeless blade, prophet of the old religions, writer of fluent nonsense, saviour of soul and song.
Freelance Worrywart
Wesleigh slipped into the cab after Ivan, nodding along to his explanation.
"Right, so privileged conspiracy stuff? I get that. Goddamn secret societies."
She looked at the gear Ivan - the Question? - had collected and was beginning to set up, and wondered if she should have tried to pick up anything. She'd found an older model of her gas-gun in Dodds Manor the night before and was keeping it in her purse but beyond that she was reliant on her various gifts from the master and her wits. She hoped it'd be enough.
"Weird how everything's changed so much," she murmured, looking at Manhattan roll by. "How long was I gone, exactly?"
As they approached the rendezvous she saw a familiar figure in an electronics store, transfixed by a TV. He'd been at the ball, and she was certain she'd met him before the dreamscape...
"Hey, is that our guy?" she asked, pointing Axel out.
King of Lame-Style
Streets of New York - Near Access, the kid
Question parted his mopish black wig back behind where his ear would be, pushing the somewhat fake looking hair out of the way "You were gone... well... a good number of months... things have moved as they're used to do..." He said "I took some of the equipment you left behind, by the way, hope you don't mind it too much... Sleep gas has been useful" he said walking, hands in his coat's pockets, standing a tad slouched. He looked over where Dodds was pointing.
"yeah, that's him" he said before walking over, his eyes looking over the program in the screens... Fucking Godfrey. He tapped Axel's shoulder to call his attention.
The graceless warrior, wielder of the edgeless blade, prophet of the old religions, writer of fluent nonsense, saviour of soul and song.
Axel was very focused on Godfrey's show when his "alien detecting sense" suddenly flared. *Uh oh, what now?* he wondered. It was a very creepy sensation.
Then someone tapped his shoulder.
"Yipes!" he jumped, and turned around.
It was The Question.
But the "vibes" weren't coming from him. They were coming from the woman with him, whom he recognized from the party last night. Her presence was "off"- like she did, yet didn't, belong in this world. Kind of like Raven 'felt' to him. Who was she?
"Oh. He he. You're here. Good" he said sheepishly.
"By the way, in case you don't know, Godfrey was just talking about the Metahuman Registration Act. Coincidence?" he added, pointing at the TV with a thumb.
She held her silence for another minute as she considered this. On the surface, she wanted to deny everything he had said out of hand. But something about him was making her hesitate. She had tried to get away once or twice before when she was much younger, but always it ended the same way, with her recaptured and punished for a month or two. She, of course, had no way of knowing that those escape attempts were carefully plotted out by her employers specifically to break any will she might have to run. But somehow, she believed this time, things might turn out differently.
"Very will. I will trust your words. If this does not end well, I did attempt to warn you. For now, I will trust what you say is true. We shall see if your actions back up your words."
huzzaaaaaaaah
Studio
"Oh, Ms. Bishop. If only there were some kind of... force of justice that already operates without the boon that a secret identity provides, some kind of concentrated organization that deals daily with the worst kind of criminals and constantly put their lives and the lives of family members on the line." Godfrey muttered, tapping his chin mockingly. "Have you perhaps heard of these nifty little people called police officers? Interestingly enough, they don't have masks or secret identities, and they never leave behind catatonic passerbys or entire neighborhood blocks completely destroyed!"
"Tell me, Ms. Bishop. If vigilantes deserve this recognition that they oh so crave, then why do we allow them to dictate the rules and bend the formative columns of our society to their will? Letting them go on marketing deals and lucrative press tours whilst police officers have to contend with minimal salaries and the reality of their day to day lives?"
"As for your last question: if your neighbors had a gun, you'd certainly want them to be trained at using them and have their ownership written down on the local registry, even if they were the most peaceful people you had ever met, right?" Godfrey continued, as one of the producers gave him a 'one minute left' signal. "Now we have an entire race of people who are born with guns inside their bodies. They are living weapons, even if they would never dare to pull the trigger. But what matters in the end game is not intent, Ms. Bishop, but rather if the weapon was used or not."
"So tell me. Imagined you lived with your family near a man who has an unregistered, unlicensed nuclear reactor, which society has turned a blind eye to. If that reactor blows up, and it most likely will one day, your family, your house, your entire life will be destroyed. But he would get to live free, because the reality is that although he carries a powerful, world-destroying weapon in his hand, nobody knows who he is, and nobody tells him what to do except himself. Does that seem like a nice place to live in, Ms. Bishop?"
Freelance Worrywart
—Streets of Upper Manhattan—
Wesleigh peered over Axel's shoulder at the screen. She frowned.
"Oh him," she said "showing up quite a lot isn't he? Well-spoken too, that's not good."
She looked Axel up and down.
"You appeared at the ball yesterday didn't you? Ming knew you...."
Wesleigh had long since given up remarking on these conincidental encounters. It was all part of the story as her master would say, you meet the people you're supposed to meet. No small surprise Ming was part of all this in some way.
"He might speak good, but he still says garbage" Axel responded to Wesleigh. "I wish I were there; I could tell him a thing or two. Like how if the police could handle villains heroes wouldn't have been needed in the first place; or the fact that we keep our identities secret not because we want to but because we know the authorities cannot keep our loved ones safe from our enemies. But, even I know I'd be wasting my time; Godfrey either can't or won't listen to reason." He felt kind of sorry for the girl of about his age that Triple-G was lambasting, tough.
Then Wesleigh mentioned Ming. "You know Ming?" he said in surprise. For a moment, he hesitated. He really didn't want to involve himself with these weirdos in a personal level, but then again, it wasn't like he could keep any secrets from them. And he needed their help, after all.
"...Yes. Ming and I are- used to be- an item. It's her parents, the Kuo-Fans, who have just joined the Hellfire club, and she's worried over them. So she asked me to investigate, but to be honest I'm clueless about how to go at it. Which is why I called you."
"...So. What do we do now?"
Studio
Spotting the one-minute-left signal, Kate readied herself to finish this. Even if it didn't mean much in the end, she would get the last word. "Oh, yes, because the police are absolutely qualified to deal with threats like the Joker or the Weeper or the Music Meister. And police officers never do anything corrupt or morally questionable or misuse their authority ever.
"And regarding your blatant strawmanning, I don't think metahumans are comparable to people with dangerous objects. They're just people who were born different, and treating them like they're guns or nuclear reactors is an excellent way to cause wanton violation of civil liberties and property damage."
Kate sped her way through her last few sentences before glancing back at the producers, then at Booster Gold. The beginnings of a plan were forming.
huzzaaaaaaaah
The Studio
"We have registration for voters, guns, and even I Ds. The idea that registering your mutant ability would be a destruction of your civil liberties is the equivalent of saying that registering a person with a psycho social disability or mental disorder so that proper care can be taken is a complete destruction of their civil rights, when in fact it's only a precaution necessary so that they can live to its fullest! If a mutant is born with the ability to eradicate everything within a five-mile block, then wouldn't it be in the people's best interest to have the government be aware of this ability from day one and take every precaution so that they will not accidentally," Gordon made sure to use air quotes for that one, "eliminated the entire population of a neighborhood and force themselves into a life of crime?"
"And then we get back to the issue that these hooligans were born as a direct result of the actions of vigilantes!" Godfrey replied, ignoring the producer and pointing at Bishop's face. "And are you suggesting that there is such corruption and futility in our police forces that we must give over our public safety and justice system to the hands of individuals who are not obligated to follow a code, but rather their own desires, which in some cases, are as flimsy and as undefined as whatever bottle of alcohol they might be consuming at that exact moment?"
Godfrey slammed his fist on the table, adjusting his tie to give him some time to calm down. "I have seen Tony Stark up close. I talked to him. He sat where you're sitting right now, Ms. Bishop. And having seen what I've seen, I wouldn't trust that man with a badge, let alone a portable mass destruction device. Consider this, Ms. Bishop-" He pointed at the cameras. "Let's see how warm and welcoming you and your family will be when droves of homeless men and women come to your doorstep, all because you refused to let walking monsters like Power Girl do whatever they want without dealing with the consequences."
"This is G. Gordon Godfrey. I'll be right back."
When the producer finally yelled cut, Godfrey immediately jabbed a finger in Booster Gold's direction. "Who the hell—" Grumbling to himself, Godfrey massaged the bridge of his nose, glaring at Booster Gold. "I thought I made it clear to my director that our interview was not going to happen."
Love is Love is Love
Booster gave Bishop a thumbs-up when she looked in his direction. She'd done pretty dang well for herself. Booster had a plan of his own, of course, even when he had to choke down the impulse to strangle Godfrey when he called Power Girl a "monster".
First and foremost, the coverings around his ears would block out all sounds. Skeets would pick up anything Godfrey said through his internal microphone and play it into Booster's ears, cutting out whatever psychosomatic effect Godfrey's powers might try to take hold of his brain with. After that? It was easy.
Godfrey was a bully. He liked to dictate the pace and scream and rant and rave. He liked to think he was in control and emotionally manipulate his guests to drive the discussion how he wanted. So the answer was easy: take the control out of Godfrey's hands. Dictate the line of questioning, change the topic of conversation whenever Booster felt like it, but most importantly of all: keep a level head. Let Godfrey scream as much as he wanted, make him look like the lunatic blowhard that he was. All Booster had to do was hammer his points home at an even keel and never raise his voice.
It also helped that unlike, say, Tony Stark, Booster was pretty popular across all demographics, so it wasn't exactly like he was in enemy territory. The calmer he was and the angrier Godfrey got, the more the room would turn to his side. Easy as pie.
Booster smirked and lifted up his visor to wink when Godfrey jammed a finger in his direction before sliding it back down.
My various fanfics.
Studio
Kate was a little impressed that Godfrey was able to say that much in less than a minute- or she was right up until he called Power Girl a monster and things got personal.
Power Girl had risked her life, maybe even sacrificed herself to save Kate's life, and Kate wasn't about to let some third-rate pundit whose claim to fame was rampant hate get away with disrespecting her like that.
Kate caught Booster's eye as Godfrey started gesticulating at the superhero, mouthing "I'm going to investigate the building, don't wait up."
She grabbed her cello case and left the studio floor, ducking into the women's bathroom to change.
Her plan was, admittedly, a little half-baked: break into the production control room, find Morgan the producer, and interrogate him about Godfrey.
Once she was fully dressed and armed,
◊ she ran back out of the bathroom and into the PCR.
"I'm looking for Morgan," she declared after slamming the door shut and realizing a moment too late that she didn't know his last name. "...Morgan the producer? Older guy, has some issues with expressing anger in a constructive way? You know who I'm talking about, right?"
She paused, waiting to see how the technicians would respond.
edited 23rd May '16 9:57:06 AM by emilyorthoclase
King of Lame-Style
"Coincidence... hardly I'd even venture to say that Gordon himself, or some one above him... or some sympathiser of him had something to do with the attack last night..." Said Question as he watched, knowing it would only piss him off but honestly, the need to know was strong. He felt bad for the girl, she was doing her best... but she was clearly out of her depths, Gordon had home-field advantage and while he was spewing an inflammatory crock of hackish crap, it was a well worded crock of crap. Oh the hyperbole, it would be funny if the man didn't have as much sway as he did. The registration issue being brought up was especially baffling, Question knew the implications Godfrey meant, but the public couldn't be as stupid as to ignore that the national census was already a thing and would probably have already gathered mutant data right? Although it was only at his little line like Powergirl that made the faceless man utter a word.
"Christ how I hate him" he said with calm rage. He looked at Access nonetheless and cooled off as the teen explained his situation. "Kuo-Fan... I think I remember that name... they're not on my watchlist but what you describe is typical for the Hellfire Club. A membership means more prestige and higher social standing but it is pricey, the leaders of the club use hapless socialites like them to bankroll their activities... er no offense meant to those present" he looks at Wes then at Access "Now what do we do, that is the question... I've been looking for a way into the secret part of the club for while now... but the thing is, people like the Kuo-Fan are likely not going to be part of the inner circle, at least not any time soon... they could still be useful to get an in, but I'm not sure what you want me to do here exactly." Thought and mused the top-hatted man out loud in his detached, almost bored tone.
The graceless warrior, wielder of the edgeless blade, prophet of the old religions, writer of fluent nonsense, saviour of soul and song.
" Inner circle!?" Access gasped, then caught himself and continued talking in a whisper. "Are you telling me that these people are indeed a criminal conspiracy of some kind?" Oh God. So Ming's fears were true. They had to get her family out of there, ASAP.
"Can't we- I don't know- investigate them somehow? Get some evidence that, at the least, can convince the Kuo-Fans to leave? Of course, if we actually find something we can use against them, even better."
"Now, I can't offer you much, other than the fact I can teleport us pretty much anywhere on Earth. Even right inside the Club's mansion, if needed. I would need to *see* its insides first, tough. But if either of you can find some way to do that, I could get us in -and out- to collect evidence."
edited 22nd May '16 9:34:27 PM by Sijo
Freelance Worrywart
—Manhattan—
Wesleigh scratched her chin, thinking about the situation. She was trying to ignore Godfrey's bile on the screen, at least for the time being. She had less experience with the man and no idea how bad he could get, but Ivan's reaction alone was reason enough to dislike him. She smirked at his comment about socialites.
"None taken. Mother's always been pretty clever about avoiding groups like this, she's a lot smarter than people... than I give her credit for." Something she'd never have noticed if she hadn't spent time inside the woman's dreams. An early test from her master.
"Actually... that might be an avenue we can use. She's not the social butterfly but she'll know people, that's an in. We need to identify the inner circle and start investigating them. I can... probably move things?" She was genuinely unsure. She hadn't exactly needed to socialise in... a very long time. And she'd been bad at it before.
"Of course once we do know the inner circle there's a hell of a lot we can do. So I'd say that's your key objective for now."
Karma replied, "Yes, the garages are just outside, on the left side of the great curved driveway."
"Mm!" Sam finished his mouthful. "That's left side when y're comin' out the front door. Careful not to go 'round the other way, else y'll wind up parking y'r bike in the stables."
"Thank you," said the Professor in a quiet tone and a grateful smile. "So then, Green Arrow, Agent Young, would either of you object to this upstanding girl being enrolled in the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.
"First of all, how do you know my name?" said Agent Young.
"Whoops!" Xavier chuckled. "Sorry, I may have picked something up when psychically assessing the mess outside."
"Right. Second of all, I hope you all know that this is completely insane."
The technicians immediately cowered as Hawkeye made her entrance. Not as much as if she'd gone in arrows blazing, but the threat was still kind of present.
"Mr Edge is taking a conference call, says he's not to be disturbed," said one of the more confident ones, shifting over and hoping Kate didn't notice the button he was pushing behind his back.
TV Studio, Production Control Room
"Well, I'm here to disturb him," Kate replied. "Where can I find Mr. Edge?"
She noticed the button being pressed a second too late. "...what did you just do?!"
Her first thought was "oh god, he's going to blow us all to kingdom come," but that seemed unlikely; Godfrey didn't seem like the sort who would sacrifice himself over something like his production control being infiltrated. It was more likely they had just called the police or something.
Dammit, Kate knew she should have brought her sword.
Paige's ears perked up at the word "stables." She LOVED horses. Unfortunatly, horses did not love her, but this was a fact that Paige Guthrie was in steadfast denial about, and likely would be for some time. Waving to her new friends and stuffing a last biscuit into her mouth, Paige set out to find the garage, a place to take a nice long shower, and (she would cheerfully admit) to poke about this place a bit more. What else might she discover?
Tony remained on the rooftop a while longer, watching Booster Gold fly off with Moon Knight. He began to open his mouth to respond, but he paused, a faint "Aaa," all that managed to escape his lips. After that, his faceplate slid shut once more, and he himself took to the night sky, rocketing away in the opposite direction.
"Good to know I'm not the only one who does stuff like that," Karen said, commenting on Darwin's out-loud-as-usual thoughts on Superman's entry. She silently nodded with a soft smile at Darwin in thanks to his show of concern afterward, before looking at the Man of Steel again. "Technically no, since I'm just healing up from getting shot at," she continued with another involuntary shudder, "but to be honest, I have questions of my own too, and I... I don't want to just hold them off this time."
The blonde looked down at her hand for what felt like the umpteenth time since waking up. She kept quiet for another moment, before looking back up at Superman. "Last night got kinda hazy - literally - when one of those goons pulled out that green glow. I was able to notice, though, that it affected just the two of us... nobody else. What was that?..."
Office
"Let's not forget about yours truly over here Prof!" Green Arrow protested indignantly.
"I might not be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound but I'm hardly helpless." he said, reassuringly stroking his bow to punctuate his words. "Just ask you former students in the Outsiders."