This, is National City. Home of CatCo Worldwide Media, Lord Technologies among other things.
National City is a bustling city that lies between Los Angeles and San Diego along the coast of California, and home to several million people.
Of course, strange things seem to happen here on the regular. Strangely, the city seems to take all of this in stride, maybe partially do to the masterful spins that CatCo seems to put on nearly every unusual event.
It also boasts a large university National City University, touted for its teaching and law programs.
[[ OOC - This will be the freeplay thread for those in the Epic Crossover clan who want to play in National CIty, if you want to play and aren't a member of the clan, please join! ]]
Once done, he finished with a labored sigh, before looking him dead in the eye. Beach owned the General that much.
"In short, sir I failed to stop Davis' team from cornering the snakes at the docks, and wasn't even there with them when it happen. This shit storm is all on me and I accept full responsibilities for it."
While Beachhead maintain a mostly disciplined appearance, Hawk will note the subtle hints in his body language of the guilt that was eating at the ranger from the inside. He will do anything to make up for this whole disaster.
"You earned your rank, Wayne. Just because you got tapped to be in GI Joe, which is supposed to be the public face of SHIELD, I might add, doesn't give you an excuse to operate like you're an Avenger, or worse, a Suicide Squad member. Rather than telling your team to herd the snakes to the docks and let them get away from where there could be civilian casualties, you acted as if you were on the front lines in Afghanistan." Hawk paced, shaking his head.
"But you're also my friend, and while I can't let that influence me personally, I can hold myself as a character witness for you. Therefore, you're going to get in front of this, Sneeden. You've got an hour to prep, then we're holding a press conference right in front of the CatCo WorldWide Media building. You're going to tell those reporters that we stopped a terrorist plot. What I'm not going to do is demand that you take any blame for this publically. On the contrary... I'm installing you as the Joe liason for National City. You know the line... If you see something, say something. I'm punishing you for this in the best way I know how. Paperwork. You'll still have your finger on the pulse of the snakes in town, but now you'll have to deal with sorting out the snakes from the crazies calling in claiming they saw them. Do you have any questions, Sergeant Major?" Hawk finished up his judgement and looked his friend in the eye, one hand on his shoulder. Even with this failure, Hawk trusted in Rogers to come through, both as a fellow soldier, and as a friend.
One of the few times, in his life, Wayne R. Sneeden aka Beachhead was rendered speechless with Hawk's punishment. Not only did he had to go in front of cameras with a bunch of vultures known as reporters soon, but also be saddle as a PR toy to the city, while still tasked with rooting out Cobra's influence here.
Personally Beach would rather fight an entire division of vipers by himself than this. Still in all fairness, the General, his old friend, was giving him a chance to fix this mess even with the punishment and that was more than he deserved.
Hopefully this assignment won't involve commercials like SHIELD made our whole unit do while back. God in heaven that was annoying. Crap...the unit they're going see this all on tv and the Internet.
The Greenshirts will get a kick of it, laughing their asses off. Well they better enjoy that while it lasts, because when I return to the Pit, there will be hell to play.
With that in mind, Beach focused back on Hawk with determination in his eyes and replied.
"Understood sir, I won't let you down. The only thing I ask is a simple request. Please be sure to let the recruits back at base know that, they're going to enjoy a special session with me at the training course when I return."
While Beach's face was mostly masked, Hawk can tell he was smiling, judging by the eyes. The General would know actually what it will mean for the Greenshirts. Heaven have mercy on their souls because Beachhead won't.
"Understood sir, I won't let you down. The only thing I ask is a simple request. Please be sure to let the recruits back at base know that, they're going to enjoy a special session with me at the training course when I return."
While Beach's face was mostly masked, Hawk can tell he was smiling, judging by the eyes. The General would know actually what means for the Greenshirts, heaven have mercy on their souls because Beachhead won't.
"Understood, soldier. So get cleaned up. You've got a different kind of enemy to face - the public." He gave him a quick salute and headed out, presumably to Sacramento to work this out on a state government level.
After returning the salute, Beach watched Hawk headed out to handle things on the higher level. As soon the general was out of sight, he shook his head.
Terrific, deal with the all loving public and the understanding media, no problem. Hurrah!
The ranger thought sarcastically. Hawk is right, it's a new kind of enemy to face whether he wanted to or not. With hostiles like Cobra, he can usually shoot them and it would solve the problem, but not this type. Yet reminded that civilians are being hospitalized right now because of his actions or lack of them, Beach knew he had to do this to make amends.
Like any other objective given it must be achieved and Beachhead intended to do so.
Its about the only thing I appreciate about a place this glitzy.
So shiny. The fashions make me blush and the nights are sweltering hot. But I couldn't have picked a better place if I tried to find out everything about this new world. What really draws my attention the most, here?
Its the supers....In my day, we called em Legends. Pecos Bill, Phantom Rider, Zorro- All those people, with powers or who dressed up for justice or any other sort of deal. And in this place, they seem to be just as larger-then-life. Only question really for me now is this...
Now what?
I can't find vampires here- My old tracking methods are useless and there are imitators everywhere.
As though a vampire was a thing to admire.
First and foremost you gotta recall? We're monsters.....Monsters wrapped in human skin, pretending to be misunderstood. Best thing about it though?
Sometimes, you need a monster.
In my day, it was Opium. Chinese drug that you smoked and killed you slowly. Now? It was something else. It twisted the dead souls I called up for information and the price for their help was to put them to rest. For most ghosts who died of violence or slowly, it usually means one thing.
And that suited me juuuust fine.
Six are dead as I walk through the door, Baskerville's bark thundering in the drug-factory. Hired guns, men with advanced weapons my day would have killed for. I load up slow and kill the lights with a few shots.
Fantasy, Sci-fi, Modern, Magical Realism, Slice-of-life, AU, Post-apocalyptic, mythology, time travel, fandom, romance, slow burns. Well, basically anything except for what is stated in the "Don't Like" section
Kara reminded Cat Grant of her scheduled interview with the candidate, receiving nothing more than a grunt from the corporate CEO. Tucking standard interview papers into a manila folder, Kara made her way to the designated conference room.
Kara had just got settled in the conference room when a girl with blonde hair entered. She introduced herself as Stephanie Brown and held out her hand to Kara.
"Hello, Ms. Brown. It's a pleasure to meet you," returned Kara, shaking the other girl's hand.
From far away, Kara heard the familiar wailing of a police siren. Aww, c'mon, not now! she thought. The police, however, did not seem to be in an urgent mood. Rather, instead they seemed perplexed; they conversed with each other and their people at the station. Apparently, a hotdog stand was about to be robbed but was stopped due to some Good Samaritan. A very skilled Good Samaritan. The perps were tied up to a pole like Christmas presents to the police. She heard a name being thrown around: Heron.
Heron? Isn't that a bird? Like the kind with a long neck and bill?
"Please, take a seat." Kara gestured to the chair directly in front of her. She sat down, noticing something pointed and black poking out of Stephanie Brown's purse. She blinked and abruptly cleared her throat, sorting through the papers in her folder. She pretended to adjust her glasses, taking a quick peek at the woman's purse with her x-ray vision. Apparently, that black pointy thing was bigger than she originally thought and in the shape of a . . . bat. It also had an edge, the wings sharpened like a knife. Bat stuff belonged in Gotham, not National City. She knew of the mysterious vigilantes running around that area; Kal-El told her they were good people trying to do the right thing for their city much like how they were too. They just had a creepy and a rough reputation. So would that mean this girl had some connection to them? And why was she here? Kara hoped none of those crazy villains had found their way into National City; having her city turn into a cesspool of crime, corruption, and serial maniacs were the last thing she wanted.
Kara smiled pleasantly at the woman. "Shall we begin?"
"Hello, Ms. Brown. It's a pleasure to meet you," returned Kara, shaking the other girl's hand. "Please, take a seat." Kara gestured to the chair directly in front of her.
Kara smiled pleasantly at the woman. "Shall we begin?"
"Well, I suppose I'll start off with confirming stuff that'll show up on the background check you may have already run. I've lived in Gotham, Bludhaven, or New York City all my life. Other than my studies, and many jobs I was grossly overqualified for as I was trying to work my way through community college, I really haven't had much experience. I had a short stint as a personal assistant at Wayne Enterprises. I was terminated, but later rehired, until I stepped down, as I wasn't able to work as many hours as was required of the post. You can see that I've left Lucius Fox as a professional reference. That's his personal cell phone so if you do call him please try to do so during Eastern Time business hours?"
I paused, finally noticing my batarang poking out and try to casually hide it. "Also, you'll see on a criminal background check that I'm a survivor of aggravated assault and rape about four years ago. No one was ever charged, and I barely survived... But I obviously did!"
I cleared my throat. I always had to mention the rape because if I didn't and they looked it up, it would look like I was covering up.
"As to why I want the job, other than the obvious reasons anyone wants to work, well... I admire Cat Grant. Strong, independent women are harder to find than you might think. Plus, to be honest, since I'm going to be balancing school at NCU with work? I kind of want something I'm overqualified for, so that I don't get overwhelmed by the school, work, and a vague attempt at a social life."
I pause again. "My weaknesses? I know it's a stock question for an interview, but part of me always wants to say something silly like... Kryptonite, because it sounds more like a question you'd ask a superhero than a job applicant. But honestly?" I shrug.
"I try to do too much, and live twenty five hour days, if you get my point? I'm trying hard to slow down and not overdo, so you may find me being a little high strung if I get behind in my work, because I'm one of those people who gets encouraged by setbacks? Like, if I goof and I know it, I've learned something new, and that's actually exciting to me. Not that I aim for failure, I just don't ever let it put a crimp in my style..."
Tyler Fenwick, not in his guise as the Red Panda got out of the elevator of the upscale National City hotel he was in and entered the lobby. A couple of things to do, and he'd be back on track for at least some kind of visit to Lord Technologies today.
In every yang, there was a little bit of yin. In this case, the yang coming in the form of a terrorist opening fire on National City, ruining his scheduled appointment at Lord Technologies, and putting everyone around on edge would be met with the yin of Tyler Fenwick playing the more heroic role of....Tyler Fenwick: the kind, affable, generous, humorous rich young bachelor who cared about the strangers around him more than he feared for his life. Hopefully nobody would wonder too much about that, but then this is the United States and they probably were developing a certain tolerance for rampant chaos and peril.
Such a hotel sold flowers enough for business occasions, and with that little bit of leverage in his employ a plan could be set in motion. He would come to meet the receptionist, apologize that he missed the appointment due to the incident on the Harbor, and give the flowers to the receptionist " just because on such a frightening day as this, he hoped to make it a bit nicer for at least one person." This was not quite as original an idea as it appeared, but as he tied the flowers together with the fifty dollar bill, he reflected that it had only backfired once. That being when the said receptionist was named "Grandfather Smitty"- and even then the money had covered the moment of embarrasment he had. It was hard to to offend people with money, so long as it clearly had no strings attached.
Approaching his driver, he smiled at him from across the room "Ready to try it again?"
The driver, avoiding said eye contact still appeared to be in shock. "Don't know about going that way again, sir. Still quite a bit of chaos out there."
"Never mind Ralphus, it will be fine. So avoid the docks, take the long way around. The scenic tour if you will: I've already missed the appointment, and they'll understand why, so I might as well have my first look at Sunny California. Besides, your paid by the hour aren't you?"
Three hours of sightseeing (and neighborhood) scoping later, Tyler Fenwick opened the door to Lord Technologies and approached the receptionist with flowers wrapped in money in hand "Hello, I'm Tyler Fenwick. Sorry I missed the meeting a few hours ago...I happened to be at the harbor...Good times. Thought I'd stop by and let everyone know in case you were wondering. I hope everyone's allright over here."
Three hours of sightseeing (and neighborhood) scoping later, Tyler Fenwick opened the door to Lord Technologies and approached the receptionist with flowers wrapped in money in hand "Hello, I'm Tyler Fenwick. Sorry I missed the meeting a few hours ago...I happened to be at the harbor...Good times. Thought I'd stop by and let everyone know in case you were wondering. I hope everyone's allright over here."
The secretary smiled and accepted the flowers and the money. "Oh dear, I don't have a vase. this will do." She dropped them, stem first into the wastebasket beside her desk, the money palmed almost faster than even Tyler could see. The name plaque on the desk read Siobhan Smythe.
"Tyler Fenwick... Same family as the baseball stadium perhaps?" She turned to her computer and started typing for a moment. "Well... Mister Lord is booked up for some time today. I could juggle some appointments, but I'd have to work overtime and miss my own dinner plans. Although... if you could do something about that I'd be eternally grateful, Mister Fenwick."
"The Canadian Fenwicks actually..." he trailed off, contemplating series of reactions. She reacted to his attempts at creativity like it had happened a million times before.
Was Siobhan Smythe essentially selling tickets? Was this an ordinary way of doing business in America? Did she think he was somebody else? and yet, at the end of the day it all kind of pointed in the same direction. Siobhan Smythe is a person of at least some interest. Who also was taking a terrorist attack like it was business as usual....
And yet..."eternally" grateful. Just like that? Do words have no meaning anymore?
Still, the details didn't matter, it was all pointing to something or another.
"Ummm..." he stalled for a moment, confused by too many nuances.
"I think you misunderstand me Miss Smythe. It's getting toward the end of the day, I didn't expect an instant meeting with Mister Lord, and I really don't think you should be working overtime on a day like this. You should be with your family or friends. So, let's do it this way..."
He pulled out another fifty, grateful he didn't tie the flowers with the hundred he was originally thinking of using. "Just take this in appreciation for your hard work under stressful circumstances, and reschedule me sometime in the next couple of days. Hmm?"
He pulled out another fifty, grateful he didn't tie the flowers with the hundred he was originally thinking of using. "Just take this in appreciation for your hard work under stressful circumstances, and reschedule me sometime in the next couple of days. Hmm?"
Siobahn ignored the next $50 entirely and turned back toward her computer."Oh, I'm sorry, I must have confused you with someone else." Being turned down was something Ms. Smythe was unused to - even with the veiled way she'd hinted she'd like to have dinner with Tyler, apparently as her whole mannerism changed. She typed a bit more at her computer. "You're rescheduled for tomorrow at 12:45. Please come to the cafe' on the 14th floor, you'll be joining Mr. Lord for coffee after his lunch. Take this. It will get you through security up until the end of the day tomorrow." A badge printed out and she handed it to him. It was complete with his picture, although he didn't remember posing for one.
Objective #1- reschedule the appointment with Lord so I can figure out what's going on at Lord Technologies- check!
Objective #2- get to know the secretary so I can get to know what is actually going on at Lord Technologies- just ignored my money and suddenly went completely dry in addition to being confusing as blazes...not so much check.
The words of Kit Baxter Fenwick just a few hours ago after he explained about not getting the squirrel's number came back to him "Y'know, the trouble with you, is you take after HIM too much". Apparantly, grandad was just as blind as he was in some of the same areas.
So far, he had been completely unable to connect to the secretary, spending half the time wondering what the words and gestures meant (wastebasket? eternal? Someone else?) and the other half of the time what to do about it while she spoke at the speed of internet and moved as fast in her chair as he did in a fight.
He had no idea what was actually happening here, but he knew if didn't take a shot he'd have a lot of explaining to do and no clue how to even begin. One shot then, and he'd try to speak her language in the hopes that she would say something a bit more straightforward in response. He took a deeper than normal breath.
"Yes, thank you for the badge. Now, I've got a limo with a driver, vacation money burning a hole in my pocket, and roughly twenty hours before the appointment. Since you don't have to work overtime, I don't think you have family in the area to tend to, and are well...here and not opening fire on me, how would you like to meet up tonight?"
Almost done.Wayne Sneeden aka Beachhead thought. Dressed in an gray-like gym clothes with a dark ball cap, he continued to jog at a steady pace down one of the park walkways in National City. As much as possible Beach made sure to run twenty five miles every morning as part of his constant training regiment. He would go little more faster, but that would give himself away to any hidden Cobra operatives still in National City.
Some would accuse the Joe sergeant of being too paranoid, but having fought Cobra and other terrorists for years, he learned it is best not to take chances. Aside from staying in shape, jogging kept his mind centered with a purpose. Better to sweat than be idle with time was the motto.
Idleness is the last thing Beach ever wanted, it only breeds weakness in his opinion. Finally he stopped at the end of the park trail. Once stopped he checked his wrist watch on the right hand, and nodded, very much pleased, making new record for himself. After taking out a water bottle from a bag comprend attached to the waist, he took a careful snip as he thought.
Fantasy, Sci-fi, Modern, Magical Realism, Slice-of-life, AU, Post-apocalyptic, mythology, time travel, fandom, romance, slow burns. Well, basically anything except for what is stated in the "Don't Like" section
Kara nodded thoughtfully as Stephanie recounted her workforce experience.
"I will keep note of that," she replied, jotting down the desired time to call Lucius Fox. As she was writing, she heard a shift of clothing and a slight clink; the clink was quiet enough that no ordinary human could hear it unless they had super hearing. Kara looked up when Stephanie began to talk about her rape, noticing the point of her bat-shaped knife was now missing.
"Yes. We did see that. I am very sorry that happened to you."
Kara nodded in satisfaction at Stephanie's admiration of Cat. It was true the woman was a role model, even if she can be insufferable at times. With a habit of getting assistants' names wrong. Many looked up to her; Kara's old coworker Lucy Lane, many other women in CatCo, and even Kara herself. Sometimes, Kara wondered how her boss would react to finding out Supergirl thought of her as a role model; probably in a matter-of-fact matter with a hint of smugness.
"My weaknesses? I know it's a stock question for an interview, but part of me always wants to say something silly like . . . Kryptonite, because it sounds more like a question you'd ask a superhero than a job applicant. But honestly?"
"Aah, yeah . . . Kryptonite. That's quite a joke you got there," Kara laughed a little too forcefully. Okay, now she's suspicious. There are only six people on this planet that know of her weakness to the radioactive green mineral: Hank Henshaw the leader of the DEO, her adoptive mother and sister Eliza and Alex Danvers, James Olsen, Winn Schott, and her cousin Kal-El. Nobody else should know about Kryptonite or even its name.
Kara could have excused that bat blade after hearing her rape story. She had assumed it was given to her by one of those Gotham vigilantes after what happened. It was apparent, however, this girl knows more than she is letting on. Much more than just brandishing a knife, or whatever the hell they call it in Gotham. Does she know? Oh, Kara hoped not.
"Well, this is my last question: could you tell me why you were terminated and rehired again by the same company? I found it interesting Wayne Enterprises would do that."
"Aah, yeah . . . Kryptonite. That's quite a joke you got there," Kara laughed a little too forcefully. Okay, now she's suspicious. There are only four people on this planet that know of her weakness to the radioactive green mineral: Hank Henshaw the leader of the DEO, her adoptive mother and sister Eliza and Alex Danvers, and her cousin Kal-El. Nobody else should know about Kryptonite or even its name.
"Yeah, you know. I mean, I am kind of a super hero buff, and it's not too uncommon for someone who follows the news of Superman to know that Kryptonite is his weakness? I mean, it was even said on national TV once, right?" God, I hope so. Does she know? Did she see the Batarang?
"Well, this is my last question: could you tell me why you were terminated and rehired again by the same company? I found it interesting Wayne Enterprises would do that."
"Well... it's kind of embarrassing. I... overstepped my authority, and Mister Wayne fired me personally. He later recanted and admitted that I had done the right thing, but without proper authorization. Because of his harsh reaction initially, I got rehired and put on probation for a bit, until I showed that I had... grown past that. Then later, I decided I couldn't juggle a full time job with Wayne and took a leave of absence. They're willing to rehire me now, but there's no openings for my particular post here in the LA Area. I got a scholarship at National City University, and I can't travel too far from there. Sooo... there I am." I was about ready to say, I'll see myself out because I think I just blew it big time with the lame-o joke.
"Yes, thank you for the badge. Now, I've got a limo with a driver, vacation money burning a hole in my pocket, and roughly twenty hours before the appointment. Since you don't have to work overtime, I don't think you have family in the area to tend to, and are well...here and not opening fire on me, how would you like to meet up tonight?"
Her manner changed instantly. "Well... let me think about that." She put her finger to her chin a couple of times. "Okay, thought about it, I'm off at five fifteen, so... say... seven, at this address." Siobahn handed him a business card with an address written on the back of it. "You'll send a car around, yes?" @Kingof192
Idleness is the last thing Beach ever wanted, it only breeds weakness in his opinion. Finally he stopped at the end of the park trail. Once stopped he checked his wrist watch on the right hand, and nodded, very much pleased, making new record for himself. After taking out a water bottle from a bag comprend attached to the waist, he took a careful snip as he thought.
It took him a moment or two to figure out where the... fairly bad signing was coming from. It was up in a tree. She wouldn't be distracted from that in any way. As she ended the song she vaulted out of the trees and landed nearby.
"Hey, sorry I couldn't help you with roadblock or crossing guard or whatever his name was, I had to take Bullseye to the police station and by the time I got back you were doing first aid on someone and I didn't want to distract you." Doreen seemed to say all of that in one breath.
It took him a moment or two to figure out where the... fairly bad signing was coming from. It was up in a tree. She wouldn't be distracted from that in any way. As she ended the song she vaulted out of the trees and landed nearby.
"Hey, sorry I couldn't help you with roadblock or crossing guard or whatever his name was, I had to take Bullseye to the police station and by the time I got back you were doing first aid on someone and I didn't want to distract you." Doreen seemed to say all of that in one breath.
There were only a few people, Beach admitted that could get the drop on him so easily, it's mostly ninjas who were on the same team, now probably add another person at this point. When he heard the less than average singing voice, the ranger turned to the tree next to him. He already knew who it was, the song kinda gave it away.
Quirky as ever, Wayne noted as Doreen came down, still she had been proven to be quite the ally in an fight. It's so easy forget Doreen was not your average college student but a squirrel themed superheroine who took down an infamous assassin all by herself. According to some rumors SHIELD she may have even defeated Doctor Doom once years ago.
"It's alright you did fine ma'am, so more than I done. As for what's going on, well let's just say I'm dealing with the fallout from the other night."
Saying that, Beachhead remembered that SHIELD had arranged for him to be interviewed by Cat Grant soon. Just thinking of that upcoming interview gave the ranger a headache, causing him to pinch with the bridge of his nose in reaction.
"It's alright you did fine ma'am, so more than I done. As for what's going on, well let's just say I'm dealing with the fallout from the other night."
Saying that, Beachhead remembered that SHIELD had arranged for him to be interviewed by Cat Grant soon. Just thinking of that upcoming interview gave the ranger a headache, causing him to pinch with the bridge of his nose in reaction.
Beach shook his head no in respond. Good grief, it's like trying to explain a field manual to a Greenshirt recruit. The only difference he can't order Doreen to shut up and pay attention, not that he wanted to in this case. Dealing with civvies is so complicated. The Joe thought in the back of his head before explaining further to Squirrel Girl.
"Oh no there wasn't any radioactive fallout, thank God for that. What I mean is political trouble. You know how Supers like you sometimes get crap from people here and there for damaging a building or street, even though it was an accident and y'all saved lives from a monster. Well in this case, we as in SHIELD were pursuing Cobra operatives, but caused in a small war on the docks and endangering civilians when it could've been avoided."
Sighing a little bit he added.
"Let's just say Doreen, folks are understandably pissed off about it, namely the police, the media, and even the mayor. Guess who has to deal with their complaints and questions, starting today."
Beach pointed at himself make it clear he was the one.
