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File: Daily Planet Quest.png (2.9 MB, 1920x1080)
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Rolled 5, 3 + 1 = 9 (2d6 + 1)

Daily Planet Quest

Your alarm screams, wrenching you violently from pleasant dreams of less busily invested times than this in your life. Reaching out from beneath the covers you grope fruitlessly for a few minutes before you discover that the alarm, which is also your phone, has fallen somewhere. Behind your bed? Under your night stand? It doesn’t matter where it is because you can’t find it without hauling yourself bodily out of bed, which in turn means that you are not going to be able to hit snooze and just go back to bed...which pisses you the hell off.

Ugh, you stayed up unseamly late writing up your latest story...

>on a rash of late night acts of vigilantism by a man in brown hockey pads
>promoting an upcoming experiment/technical demonstration at Star Labs
>implicating three sitting district of metropolis judges of being on Intergang’s take
>cataloguing eye witness reports of a mysterious and impossible guardian angel
>about a fairly recent missing persons case ending with a mummified corpse
>about Lex Luthor secretly meeting with the visiting Kaznian dignitary
>about an attack on local street gang, The 100, coinciding with a freak blackout

That story(and anything in it that needs editing) is otherwise behind you now. As you pull yourself out of bed to the protest of your, well, everything to start the day. Navigating through your mess of a shoe box apartment, clothes strewn about the place and maybe one or two take out containers for a late night pick you up last night or several nights prior, you manage to dress yourself and prep yourself for the day.

Looking yourself in the mirror; your slightly outgrown bob cut pulled back into a bun, just enough dark liner to make your violet eyes pop, and shark white teeth you shrug a blazer over your blouse and grab your satchel.

You are Lois Lane. Last year you finished your Masters in Journalism at the University of Metropolis, now you’re a staff writer at the Daily Planet. The money would be great most places, but you’re doing just okay here in the District of Metropolis. The City of Tomorrow on the Delaware Bay. A lot has been happening in this city that’s served as your home for the past few years. There’s always news.

And especially as of late, there’s been a rash of weird news. And not just in your city.

Checking your watch, you see you’re running late…

>to get to the office all the way over on St. Martin’s Island for a staff meeting
>for your coverage of a Star Labs experiment/technical demonstration
>to get a gotcha moment statement from local business magnate Bruno Manheim
>for your seat on the maiden public demo voyage of Lex Corp’s SubOrbital Commercial Jet
>to meet with an informant of yours in Hob’s bay
>for your interview with the District’s Senator Henry Ballard
>for your interview with the city’s educator of the year recipient
>to interview a former Haley’s Circus hand about the Mob connection to last week’s tragedy in Gotham
>follow up on a hot tip on… (Write in)
>>
>>4419412
>to meet with an informant of yours in Hob’s bay
>>
>>4419412
>about a fairly recent missing persons case ending with a mummified corpse

>for your interview with the District’s Senator Henry Ballard
>>
File: Lois Lane Tommy Gun.gif (709 KB, 500x375)
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QM's Note: I intend this quest to run very slow boil. Not active posting every other hour on my end. Long voting window ahead for this opening act of our quest as I lay down to dream myself. Good luck figuring out what you've just writ, where you're about to go, and figuring how those two issues may yet intersect...

And please, take your obvious stabs about what these things are leaning toward. It should all be telegraphed a bit obviously.
>>
>>4419412
>on a rash of late night acts of vigilantism by a man in brown hockey pads
>for your seat on the maiden public demo voyage of Lex Corp’s SubOrbital Commercial Jet

When will we meet Clarke?
>>
>>4419471
Now that all depends on how this vote goes by morning.
>>
>>4419412
>>implicating three sitting district of metropolis judges of being on Intergang’s take
Early Lois? I'm betting staying up late working on the story that'll ruffle the most (dangerous) feathers, while Perry has her assigned to a fluffier piece in the morning trying to keep her away from the danger she's bound and determined to charge headlong at.
>>for your interview with the city’s educator of the year recipient
Flexible on this one, demo voyage and experiment coverage are tempting too.
>>
>>4419412
>implicating three sitting district of metropolis judges of being on Intergang’s take
>for your coverage of a Star Labs experiment/technical demonstration
>>
>>4419412
>>about a fairly recent missing persons case ending with a mummified corpse
>>for your seat on the maiden public demo voyage of Lex Corp’s SubOrbital Commercial Jet
>>
>>4419412
>promoting an upcoming experiment/technical demonstration at Star Labs
>for your seat on the maiden public demo voyage of Lex Corp’s SubOrbital Commercial Jet
>>
Writing.
Looks like you're upsetting more than one person's apple cart and then going to be heading to the Metropolis International Airport on Hell's Gate Island.
>>
Rolled 1, 2 = 3 (2d6)

>>
Lois Lane currently has [Hold 1] on her unique move Minor Celebrity. You can spend this move to make someone you meet in the story ahead have heard of you as a local reporter in a positive light having been exposed to your work...well unless your work was about them in an unflattering manner...If you want to use it ahead of interacting with a new NPC, say so in your vote ahead of their introduction.


Checking your watch, you see you’re running late for your seat on the maiden public demo voyage of Lex Corp’s SubOrbital Commercial Jet. This is supposed to be a big deal, from America to Europe in under an hour. Lex Corp has been pushing this as phase one to getting the Metropolis International Airport as the Metropolis International Space Port within the next decade.

The proposed costs are low enough for this to be a world wide game changer in shipping and commercial flight. Though Lex is a major presence in the promotion of this project, this vehicle was the brainchild of multiple scientists and engineers, not chief among them but critical to the project’s design is a rising star in the aeronautics world Charles Brown.

You’re hoping to get quotes from him and Luthor before the day is done.

Making sure you have your transit authority pass, you rush out to catch the monorail at the University/Centennial Park station. As you’re crossing the length of New Troy Island, Midtown speeding by, your cellphone rings. It’s the Chief Editor!

This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten a call from Perry White early in the morning after submitting a rather daring article that started as a puff piece. The conspiracy you’ve broken open exposes several seated judges for the city and district over financial ties to Intergang, a powerful organized crime ring operating on the bleeding edge of crime in this city.

Everyone knows Bruno Manheim calls the shots for Intergang in this city, but no one can prove it concretely. The exposure of these judges amid what started as a soft piece about an award one of these judges was about to receive for their publicly distinguished career might go a little further to driving that rat bastard into a less deniable position in the public eye.

“Morning Chief,” you chirp into your phone with a sly and perhaps smugly satisfied grin.

“LANE! Would it kill you to actually run a spell checker?” Perry White barks on the other end of the phone.

“That’ll just slow me down,” you wave off as the city’s skyline dips out the window as the train your own switches to the upper express track.

“Be happy this hit my tray when it did,” he grouses as you hear the squeak as he sits hard in his office chair, he’s on speaker, “I just sent it to legal for their professional opinion. I’m reorganizing the afternoon edition and dropping this on the front page of the website, you ready for the heat pulling this trigger is gonna put on you,”
>>
>>4419662

“Wouldn’t have written it if I weren’t ready, chief,” you narrow your eyes seriously.

“Alright Lane,” your chief sighs, “Piece of advice, keep your head down for the rest of the week. Not that I don’t want you working, but I want you alive and working,”

The Express line itself begins to dip, now heading at a steep angle midway through the Central Business district at the isle’s end. As the train car glides to a stop, you quickly make your transfer for the tunnel line to the airport.

“Well, this morning I’m practically skipping town,” you laugh before offering a sardonic question, “I’ve got my ticket for the L-60 KTE and my passport in my pocket. Should I stay in the French Riviera on an expense account instead of finishing the round trip?”

As you pass through the elevated exchange, you are waved down by an intern you’ve been using for their sharp eye.

Choose your Olsen and their stats
>Jimmy Olsen, Bowtie (-1 cool, 2 sharp, 0 tough, 2 weird)
>Jenny Olsen, Bow (1 cool, 2 sharp, 0 tough, 1 weird)
>James Olsen, No tie (1 cool, 2 sharp, 1 tough, 0 weird)
>J. Olsen, Extra Bowtie (0 cool, 1 sharp, 0 tough, 3 weird)

“Like hell, Lane,” huffs the Chief, “I’ll see you and Olsen after your flight,”

Relaxed (HA!) Producer: You’re Employed, with a regular paycheck and little or no oversight. As long as you send in a story every few days, no matter how bizarre, you’re set. Every now and again they’ll send you somewhere in particular, and when that happens it usually involves supernatural activity. Unless they need human interest, in which case it will be a kitten show or agricultural fair or something.

Joined by your intern with an eye for photography, you hop the line toward the Airport. It’s tight but you make it before the ceremony. Within one of the terminals that’s been rented out by Lex Corp for the event you look out the massive bay windows to see that the mysterious commercial spaceflight jet isn’t even on the runway yet.

>Mingle during the reception, relax until the story actually arrives
>Snoop to see if you can find someone from traffic control, your sister used to work there
>Try to find Lex Luthor and ask a few questions, about today’s demo or something else?
>Look for engineer Charles Brown and see if you can get anything useful out of him
>Got a different hot tip or lead?

&

Chat with Olsen?
>Still chasing getting a photo of the Guardian Angel?
>Any development on catching sight of the city’s purple cryptid?
>Are they still trying to sneak onto the set of the latest Major Comics flick?
>Eh, you’ve got a quiet professional relationship with the kid.
>write in
>>
>>4419663
>>Jenny Olsen, Bow (1 cool, 2 sharp, 0 tough, 1 weird)
>>Look for engineer Charles Brown and see if you can get anything useful out of him
>>Are they still trying to sneak onto the set of the latest Major Comics flick?
>>
>>4419663
>>J. Olsen, Extra Bowtie (0 cool, 1 sharp, 0 tough, 3 weird)
Bowties are cool.
>>Look for engineer Charles Brown and see if you can get anything useful out of him
He'll likely be more honest than the businessman, maybe see if he let's anything interesting slip.
>>Any development on catching sight of the city’s purple cryptid?
Ridiculous, sure, and likely to turn out to be a pet some kids got into the hair dye with, but more likely to turn up a story than that silly "guardian angel" business.
>>
>>4419663
Jimmy Olsen, Bowtie (-1 cool, 2 sharp, 0 tough, 2 weird)
Classic Jimmy is the only Jimmy
>Look for engineer Charles Brown and see if you can get anything useful out of him
>Still chasing getting a photo of the Guardian Angel?
>>
Rolled 6, 6 + 2 = 14 (2d6 + 2)

And standby for one of the olsens to have two votes. Working on charlie bit and rolling Lois's Investigate a Mystery.

I assume the vote for olsen will also solidify the chat with Olsen option...I mean, I don't assume, I hope.
>>
And question. Do you want to spend your Hold from Local Celebrity on Charles Brown?
>>
Rolled 3 (1d3)

Eh, I'm ready and rolling for your olsen from the choices so far voted on and their chat

1 >>4419669
2 >>4419694
3 >>4419744
>>
“So, Jimmy,” you look the young red headed bowtie clad young man up and down, cleanly made up and perhaps overdressed for his role as a photography intern, “Still chasing after that guardian angel story?”

He nods, excitedly whilst fiddling with his phone to show you a few pictures he took of the aftermath of these guardian angel sightings. These are obviously pictures he took with his professional camera, rather than on his phone. Melted street lamp base. Crumpled hand gun. Flattened bullets. An old woman holding a cat standing next to a tall tree on her block and pointing up at it. A building fire snuffed out with what firefighters on scene described as a thunderclap. The ripped off door of an otherwise burnt out car with a hand print embedded into it. A small girl with cornrows adorned with an excess of colorful clips pointing up toward a thirtieth floor apartment.

You remember that one from the other day, it made the local newscast. Kid did fall out of the window, at least according to the nanny cam.

“I figure the best thing for me to do is camp out a few nights on a rooftop in midtown at the going rate. I got a ton of eye witness reports but they’re just so outlandish that the chief won’t give me the time of day on it,” he starts out energetic but eventually seems dejected.

You haven’t seen this angel yet, but you know there’s a story there. There’s a story to all of it happening in this city.

“Cheer up Jimmy, we’ll catch them eventually. I really want to see the look on Perry’s face when we expose the hoax or find a real modern wonder,”

“You still think its a hoax, Ms. Lane?” he asks in some worry.

“I mean, more likely than not,” you shrug, “though I’m not jaded enough to not want to be pleasantly surprised,”

Arriving at the airport terminal and coursing through to the reception, you zero in on the man you’re looking for. Perhaps even the man of the hour, despite all the pomp Luthor is throwing behind himself and the company proper. Aeronautics Genius Charles Brown, the man behind the design of the Super Structure of the L-60 KTE.

The propulsion is a hybrid series of conventionally applied jet engines inside the superstructure, which is a massive delta wing with an adjustable parafoil with multiple configurations between lift off, orbital coasting, and reentry descent. That was all in the press release, but you really want to get something from Brown for your article.

Taking out your tape recorder, while turning on the digital recorder in your pocket, you approach the engineer as you grab sight of him in a corner by the back with one empty champagne flute and another that will soon be empty.

“You can do this, Brown,” he repeats to himself a few times in mantra, setting the empty glasses on a passing waitress tray while looking out over a railing of the bustling terminal below.
>>
>>4419859

“Charles Brown. Lois Lane, Daily Planet,” you offer and lead with an offered handshake as Olsen snaps a few quick pictures which initially seems to startle the buzzed engineer before he tries to flash a genial if nervous smile, “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about today’s flight?”

“Certainly, Ms Lane,” he offers and begins talking about his baby, the biggest kite he’s ever built.

“A Kite, Mr. Brown?” you question as the vehicle is rolled out onto the tarmac, broad and golden in the morning sun.

“I’m deftly afraid of flying,” he offers in a small admission with a chuckle, “Hence my third drink this early...but I love watching things soar. I love understanding how and why things fly. This was a challenge and a wonder to create. A lot of people don’t appreciate the flying wing design anymore, but for our purposes of weight distribution and propulsion it was ideal. Was ideal...I know the boss is touting this as a revolution, but I’m happy having just made the thing. The odds of it taking off, culturally, I kind of feel are against me,”

“Why would you say that?” you query which seems to bring him to stumble.

“Oh, you know,” he downs the rest of his drink, “I haven’t exactly hit a fair wind. Excuse me, Ms. Lane, time to take the stage,”

There is a rambling here, an excitement only possessed by the eccentric or obsessed. The kind of genius’s history forgets unless they can absolutely prove they changed the world. You don’t like thinking of this earnest man as another Tesla to Luthor’s Edison.

Charles Brown moves to stand beside their boss, Lex, as they take the Podium.

Choose your Lex Luthor
>Middle Aged Heavy Set Cigar Chomping Tycoon
>The muscular business wonder from down under with full head and beard aflame
>The arrogant, bald, and genius self made tech billionaire
>The young, sporty, long haired tech bro who inherited an empire
>The built scicillian american magnate with a haunting, menacing voice
>Alexis, a certified genius frequently critiqued for her apparent instability

Choose carefully
>You’ve Dated Lex before
>You’ve never met Lex directly before
>You met Lex when you were awarded a graduate student grant

“Good Morning, one and all, for this historic flight!” Luthor opens to the floor as they take the mic at the podium up and start walking down the line of presented crew, scientists, and engineers, “Here today we are so proud of what we’ve collectively accomplished here as a Lex Corp Family. The L-60 KTE is the first in a new generation of speedy air travel, before the end of the decade you can expect to not see commercial air traffic lanes thick with our broad smiling wings soaring overhead. Between more silent running engines and altitudes that belay noise pollution or disturbances we stand on a precipice to make air travel something it hasn’t been in at least fifteen years; comfortable,”
>>
>>4419861
This elicits a laugh from the crowd.

“Just ask Ferris Air,” Luthor offers again causing a more measured chuckle from the audience.

Through you’re paying attention to everything, everyone, and everything you gleaned from Brown as the press and ticket holders begin boarding the plane. Olsen for their part hung back long enough to get a flurry of pictures of the wing before joining you on the boarding arm.

Finding your seat, front row of the clear curved viewing wall windows of the wing, you have to admit Lex was right about it being comfortable.

You parse through all the information you have, between your research for today and your conversation with Engineer Brown...what else do you know or have realized?

You can get from the QM answers to 2 of the following questions
>What disputes surround this project?
>Why is Charles Brown really so nervous?
>Who would benefit from today not going perfectly?
>What is Luthor trying to do, breaking into commercial air?
>What is most dangerous here?
>What is being concealed here?

During the Flight, What Goes Wrong?!
>Nothing bad happens
>While coasting, a murder is discovered
>Almost immediately after take off during the rapid ascent, engine failure!
>Strange beams of light cascade up and out of Star Labs!
>As you breach the stratosphere, something falling to earth collides with the L-60 KTE
>Terrorists, The Kult of Kobra, take the Plane!
>On approach for the return trip, someone launches missiles at the L-60 KTE
>>
>>4419861
>>Alexis, a certified genius frequently critiqued for her apparent instability
>You’ve Dated Lex before

>Why is Charles Brown really so nervous?
>What is being concealed here?
>>
>>4419861
>>Middle Aged Heavy Set Cigar Chomping Tycoon
>>The arrogant, bald, and genius self made tech billionaire

>You met Lex when you were awarded a graduate student grant

>>4419863
>>Who would benefit from today not going perfectly?
>>What is being concealed here?

>While coasting, a murder is discovered
I was fully onboard with expecting a crash, but a murder mystery could be fun.
>>
>>4419861
>>The arrogant, bald, and genius self made tech billionaire
>>You met Lex when you were awarded a graduate student grant

>>Why is Charles Brown really so nervous?
>>What is Luthor trying to do, breaking into commercial air?

>>On approach for the return trip, someone launches missiles at the L-60 KTE
>>
>>4419863
>The young, sporty, long haired tech bro who inherited an empire

>You’ve Dated Lex before

>Who would benefit from today not going perfectly?
>What is being concealed here?

>On approach for the return trip, someone launches missiles at the L-60 KTE
>>
My tired brain somehow read this as planet express quest and was super psyched for a Futurama quest. Can someone with talent please make a Futurama quest?
>>
>>4420103
I'm sorry anon, I don't think I have the chops to do a properly funny futurama quest. You'd be better off posing that query over in /qtg/ to try and snag someone. Still, since you stopped by I would appreciate your vote here and maybe any feedback to the situation at hand. She may not be a cyclops, but we still feature a tough as nails action girl with purple as one of their defining character colors.
>>
>>4420133
Sorry, actually too tired to read up on this now. Will give the quest a proper chance tomorrow, you seem like a cool guy QM!
>>
>>4420143
Entirely understandable. Rest well and thank you for the compliment. I guess even after a two year hiatus I'm old hat at this now, this is just a side spin to really get my head back in the game and get used to QMing at /qst/ speeds as opposed to the speed I remember nostalgically from /tg/.
>>
>>4419861
>The arrogant, bald, and genius self made tech billionaire
The only kind of acceptable Luthor.
>You met Lex when you were awarded a graduate student grant

>>4419863
>What is Luthor trying to do, breaking into commercial air?
>What disputes surround this project?

>Nothing bad happens
>>
>>4419861
>>The arrogant, bald, and genius self made tech billionaire

Michael Rosenbaum Lex if possible.

>You’ve never met Lex directly before

>>4419863
>Why is Charles Brown really so nervous?

>As you breach the stratosphere, something falling to earth collides with the L-60 KTE
>>
>>4419833
the dice agree with me
>>
>>4419861
>>4419863

>The arrogant, bald, and genius self made tech billionaire
>You’ve Dated Lex before

>What disputes surround this project?
>Why is Charles Brown really so nervous?

>Terrorists, The Kult of Kobra, take the Plane!
>>
>>4420615
>Michael Rosenbaum Lex if possible.
Partial to Clancy Brown myself.
But not opposed to breaking out some hair for a bit of John Shea.
I could also enjoy going ham with some Hackman/Spacey version in the mix, but I won't push hard for it.
>>
>>4419861
>The arrogant, bald, and genius self made tech billionaire
>You’ve never met Lex directly before
>What is most dangerous here?
>What is being concealed here?

>See comics based quest
> Might be cool
> It's by Artemis
> YEAH BOOOOOOIIIIII!!!
>>
>>4420695
Don't get me wrong DCAU is amazing and his Lex is definitely iconic.
>>
Wait a second...Charles Brown...kites...IS THAT A PEANUTS REFERENCE!?
>>
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>>4420716
The character is a reference in the source material.

Hell Yeah
>>
>>4420731
Oh, right! I was not expecting to like him so much on Harley Quinn.

Also, does a LexCorp flying wing remind anyone else of the DCAU World's Finest crossover?
>>
>>4420743
That was intentional
>>
>>4420745
Thought it might be. I'm just hoping we don't have to deal with the Clown Prince of Crime hijacking it.
>>
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>>4420716
>>4420731
>>
>>4420750
youtube.com/watch?v=l8WfNn6c5lg
Apologies for shit quality
>>
Tallying and writing.
>>
>Arrogant 4
>Dated Lex 3 & Grad Student Grant 3 Fusing
>Why is Charles Brown really so nervous? 4
>What is being concealed here? 4
>Missile attack
>>
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Why is Charles Brown so nervous?

You know for a fact that even while he’s being touted as a genius engineer, Charles Brown is at the end of his kite string. This project has taken a decade to finish from the inception point, and from your research you know that his personal life had recently taken a rocky turn. For the long hours and constant stress of termination, his wife divorced him and left him as the sole caretaker for their son. Sitting on ten years on a project millions over budget means that this is his do or die moment. If today doesn’t go smoothly you suspect that Charles Brown will just be another dreamer Lex Luthor has ruined.

And you know something about Lex Luthor ruining people.

What is being concealed here

It’s only because of your history with Lex Luthor that you can read the expression and intent on Lex’s face. That arrogant self important bastard is trotting Charles brown around like he’s about to dump a bucket of blood on her at a prom.

Charles Brown is nervous for all the right reasons, because Lex looks at him like he’s beneath him. Like he’s no longer useful. He talks big and flexes the right inflections about company and family...but he’s lying. He is going to throw Brown under the proverbial bus after today. He’s already gotten the best work of Brown’s life out of him, by his reckoning and he’s lining him up for slaughter. A slaughter he is gleeful at the prospect of. There will be some kind of severance deal, but you can only imagine the kind of crippling NDA, Gag order, and Proprietary Technology Intellectual Property Ownership Lex will slap the man with if he ever tries to do anything with his passions ever again. And as it happens in real time, you’re going to write about all of it.

You’re going to do something to try and save this man from Lex.

That vindictiveness. That cruelty. That’s why you and Lex never worked out. Despite what some people may say about you behind your back, you’re relatively sure you still have a soul.

You don’t regret what happened; just maybe how it happened. And you’re glad for the perspective it gave you against men like Lex Luthor. When you first met, when you were awarded a scholarship grant by his company to pursue your masters at Metropolis University, he had taken an interest in you and after being asked out for a drink the two of you had seemed to really hit it off. Seeing a glimpse, but not the whole picture, of the man behind the public relations and super science facade you thought you found something.

Someone. Someone challenging to you intellectually. Someone who would change the world as a rising star. Someone who interested you. The man who would make tomorrow.

But no...no. While boarding you steal a glance over to Luthor. He sees you and offers a smirk. In the distance between you a familiar figure gives you a disapproving glare as they step just so to break the line of sight between you and Lex.
>>
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>>4421153
Choose Lex’s attache
>Mercy Graves; a former prostitute turned personal bodyguard and chauffeur
>Mercy Graves; a mysterious woman who turned up out of nowhere as Lex’s Chief of Security
>Mercy Graves; a disquieting professional bodyguard who is ever silent and seems stiffly robotic
>Tess Mercer; Lex’s half sister, protege, and executive assistant
>Otis; Lex Luthor’s older, bumbling, but loyal Director of Social Media.
>Mercy & Otis Graves; The terrible Graves Siblings are Lex’s Head of Security and Head of Special Operations.

The flight goes smoothly. The curved forewindow, and the gap between the seating aisles and that exterior lens, allows you an impressive view above and below during takeoff and the immediate banking corkscrew turn before the non conventional atmospheric thrusters kick into gear. It’s actually exhilarating thinking you can go to space.

Jimmy, seated next to you has had their digital Camera up in their lap recording video the second you sat down. It’s a breathtaking demonstration, and you exult in what you’ve uncovered and take it all in. It makes you wonder if he saw this before everything went dark. There you go, Lois, making yourself sad. Pressing the button for your stewardess once you reach the coasting altitude, you order a shot.

It’s not quite drinking on the job, as your job today is to enjoy two back to back transcontinental flights, but you still tilt one back to the memory of Titano. From the peaking at the endless black of space to the approach overhead upon the city of light.

The imagery you’ll write in the article will frame the meat of your article with a beautiful tableau as in less than an hour from lift off the plane touches down in the Charles de Gaulle Airport.

It takes longer than the flight to enjoy the concourse, where the title of a french newspaper catches your eye.

“Jimmy, you read french, right?” you question your photographer friend as you swipe your card at a news stand and grab a fresh sheet.

“Yes Ms. Lane, what have you found,” your photographer asks as he adjust his bowtie while waving flirtatiously at some local women who seem to take notice of him in the promenade of the terminal.

Holding up a newspaper featuring a photograph of a fluffily dressed and feather capped masked swashbuckler squaring off against a menacing literal gorilla in a barrette with a chain gun? You give your intern a questioning look, perhaps even pleading.

“Uh...well it says ‘Monkey Business. The Musketeer foils an attempted robbery of the Louvre,’ Wow. This is a good shot, and a really realistic gorilla costume for an art thief,”

“Jimmy, that’s a real Gorilla,” you sigh deeply.

“What Ms. Lane? How can you tell?”

“The wonders of an esoteric childhood spent on military bases where my dad managed all the eggheads,” you grouse and think wistfully for the second time today of the tragedy you witnessed as a small child, also space related.
>>
>>4421160
At this point in your life you’re breaking even on good and bad things happening in space.

“Read it to me on the flight,” you sigh and decide you’d rather get back to the boarding area than wait for Lex to start speaking about the wondrous accomplishment of the LexCorp family again. Sparing a glance toward Mister Brown you see him excitedly, and perhaps still a bit buzzed, using Lex-Time to video chat with his son given what you can overhear.

How hard is he biting back tears?

Sitting down for the return flight you are regaled by Jimmy stumbling through the translation of the story. You tried to study French years ago, but just the way the language structured its use of letters threw you off that project. As your editor will ream you about, you seem like you can barely write a word correctly in english. French was right out. Well, as a typist you may be underwhelming but the words you choose and their order is where your strength lies.

Briefly you imagine how you’d write this story out, as from the details Jimmy is able to parse out an unknown party letting loose a trained Gorilla on the Louvre for some kind of terroristic art theft. Then a detail hits you form the photograph. That gorilla is wearing a custom fit transmitter in his ear and at least as he’s swinging the machine gun meant for a vehicular mounting like a club, he has trigger discipline.

Nope. You let Jimmy keep stumbling through the translation, including the notation of The Musketeer being a local vigilante beloved by the populace. It conjures a thought in your head of the controversial hockey pad armored figure of your own city, or the ever changing and terrifying urban myth of Gotham’s Batman.

You’re maybe halfway across the atlantic when you see blue beams of light lancing out into space in what is perhaps the world’s most expensive planetarium light show...not that anyone miles below would even be able to see it during the daytime.

“Whoah,” Jimmy whispers before explaining, “Those must be from the Star Labs demo, Dr Erdel’s matter transmission experiment,”

The boy quickly snaps away with his camera as you are momentarily entranced by the light. The splintering beams are erratic, some bounce off a satellite and down again toward a destination in the midwest where you briefly recall the end point of the experiment waits in the Central City Star Labs branch. They persist, a few beams going off into the infinite black, one bouncing off and instead bearing down toward South America before bouncing back off again into space.

Though something strange happens, one of the beams that shot out into the black bounces back onto the starting point after about a minute. Well, it wasn’t your story so you don’t know too much about whatever that is.
>>
>>4421162
Still, the skies are clear and within a few minutes time the L-60 KTE pitches forward and you are again treated to the spectacle of watching the fire of something close to reentry break over the heat shielded, auto tinting, and ultraviolet filtering forward facing curved window. As the smoke clears at subsonic speeds you speed over the ocean, the Delaware Bay, Cape May, and in turn the District of Metropolis looms shining in the noontime sun before you...until you see something moving toward your vehicle through the wide view of the domed frontal windows. You aren’t the only one to notice as the other passengers cry out.

Choose the missile on intercept
>Rockets being launched off the shoulders of jetpack clad soldiers backed up by high tech sky bikes approaching from straight ahead [Kaznians]
>An older rusty esoteric missile launching from a bleak black diesel submarine breaking the surface miles ahead of you [Devil Ray]
>An absolute battery of missile fire coming from St. Martin’s Island [Intergang]
>The tip of a yellow ICBM coming into view overhead, catching up with and overtaking the L-60 KTE from somewhere behind behind [H.I.V.E]
>A perfect life sized model of the miscaled cartoonish and pink Darci Doll Pink F-4 Phantom Fighter Jet...launching real missiles at the L-60 KTE [Toyman]

Lois Lane, what do you do?
>Strap in, air mask on Jimmy first before applying your own, floatation cushion in hand, tray table up. Brace for it.
>Find Lex, you’ve no idea how much time is left but there’s no way he’d leave this flight unprotected...or make sure his own ass had a way off.
>The Pilots have to see this, why is the course steady? You played your share of flight sims on base as a kid, see what’s up on the control deck!
>This...this is it, isn’t it? Call your dad, you don’t know if you mean to say you’re sorry or forgive him but you can’t face the end without speaking to him.

???? ????’s actions
>arrive in time to try to swat the projectile(s) out of the air or move them off course manually
>arrive in time to try to move the space plane out of the way manually
>arrive in time to try to freeze the projectiles in midair
>you didn’t arrive in time, but the space plane is still in one piece, you’ll have to guide her down manually
>write in
>>
>>4421160
>Mercy Graves; a former prostitute turned personal bodyguard and chauffeur

>An absolute battery of missile fire coming from St. Martin’s Island [Intergang]
>The Pilots have to see this, why is the course steady? You played your share of flight sims on base as a kid, see what’s up on the control deck!
>arrive in time to try to move the space plane out of the way manually

space jesus take the wheel
>>
>>4421160
>Mercy & Otis Graves; The terrible Graves Siblings are Lex’s Head of Security and Head of Special Operations.

>>4421168
>An older rusty esoteric missile launching from a bleak black diesel submarine breaking the surface miles ahead of you [Devil Ray]
>The Pilots have to see this, why is the course steady? You played your share of flight sims on base as a kid, see what’s up on the control deck!
>arrive in time to try to freeze the projectiles in midair
>>
>>4421160
>>Mercy Graves; a mysterious woman who turned up out of nowhere as Lex’s Chief of Security

>>4421168
>>An older rusty esoteric missile launching from a bleak black diesel submarine breaking the surface miles ahead of you [Devil Ray]
>>Find Lex, you’ve no idea how much time is left but there’s no way he’d leave this flight unprotected...or make sure his own ass had a way off.
>>arrive in time to try to swat the projectile(s) out of the air or move them off course manually
>>
>>4421160
>>Mercy Graves; a mysterious woman who turned up out of nowhere as Lex’s Chief of Security
>>4421168
>>An absolute battery of missile fire coming from St. Martin’s Island [Intergang]
>>The Pilots have to see this, why is the course steady? You played your share of flight sims on base as a kid, see what’s up on the control deck!
>>arrive in time to try to move the space plane out of the way manually
>>
>>4421160
>>Mercy & Otis Graves; The terrible Graves Siblings are Lex’s Head of Security and Head of Special Operations.

>>>4421168
>>The tip of a yellow ICBM coming into view overhead, catching up with and overtaking the L-60 KTE from somewhere behind behind [H.I.V.E]
>>The Pilots have to see this, why is the course steady? You played your share of flight sims on base as a kid, see what’s up on the control deck!
Drawn between Lex and Pilots.. but the piloting feeds into nosy reporter more, while being can-do and lacking in self-preservation.

???? ?!?!
>>write in
>blast the lead missile(s) before they strike, but what's that, there's more?!? Whoever is behind this wasn't messing around. Deflect and tank the other missiles in an impossible display of strength and toughness.

Does the plane get clear of the blasts? Or still need help after mild damage? Hopefully the question before this got it clear.
Maybe a great photo op for those quick with their camera.
>>
>>4421168
>An absolute battery of missile fire coming from St. Martin’s Island [Intergang]
>The Pilots have to see this, why is the course steady? You played your share of flight sims on base as a kid, see what’s up on the control deck!
>arrive in time to try to swat the projectile(s) out of the air or move them off course manually
>>
>>4421160
>Tess Mercer; Lex’s half sister, protege, and executive assistant

Forgot this vote.
>>
>>4421160
>Mercy Graves; a mysterious woman who turned up out of nowhere as Lex’s Chief of Security
> >you didn’t arrive in time, but the space plane is still in one piece, you’ll have to guide her down manually
>>
Rolled 2, 3 + 1 = 6 (2d6 + 1)

Rolling dice + Lois's Sharp
>>
Rolled 3, 1 + 4 = 8 (2d6 + 4)

Rolling ???? Tough for Kick Some ass.

Also,
>Lois Lane Takes 1 Exp for a failure and the QM takes a hard move
>Lois Lane Takes 1 Exp for failure, but the QM offers you a difficult choice
>You can spend a Luck for a success.
>>
Rolled 3, 1 + 4 = 8 (2d6 + 4)

And ???? follow up for Helping Out
>>
>>4421821
>Lois Lane Takes 1 Exp for a failure and the QM takes a hard move
>>
>>4421821
>>Lois Lane Takes 1 Exp for a failure and the QM takes a hard move
where can I find info on the system this quest is using?
>>
>>4421821
>>Lois Lane Takes 1 Exp for failure, but the QM offers you a difficult choice
Is this the difficult choice?
>>
Writing

>>4421921
Powered by the Apocalypse Engine, Monster of the Week for the Chasis. Lois is a Snoop.

>>4421926
No. But moot for now.
>>
Horrified to grasp your own mortality ahead, something else strikes at your awareness. The pilots would have seen this before you did given their placement on the craft and other considerations like radar, so why the hell are there missiles flying at you from over a mile away while you’re still sitting level on approach to Metropolis International?

While the sinuous smoke trails of the numerous small missiles speed your way from their launch point amid the skyline of St. Martin’s Island, you’re bolting from your seat in less than a heartbeat. Jimmy, seeing you rise, is shaken from his own initial terror and looks down at the camera in his hands before rising and taking after you a few steps shy. Running to the stairs toward the control platform; the stewards and stewardesses are in a state of not panic but tense rushing as they run down their training list for this unexpected act of external terrorism. It amounts to securing people and preparing for a rough water landing…

Remembering the pathway from the initial tour you make your way to the cockpit with speed and confidence. You briefly catch sight of the mysterious, tall, and muscular Mercy Graves ushering Lex toward the back of the plane.

“Miss I’m going to need you to return to your sea-”

“Out of my way, I’m doing journalism!” you brush past the prototypical Lex Air employee before finding the right hallway.

The door is locked, you guess even for a prototype plane certain safety regulations are enforced. You bang on the door.

“Hey! Evasive maneuvers!” you shout expecting to be thrown by the plane banking.

No response.

“Wait, what’s that!?” someone on the passenger/observation levels below cries out above the din of growing panic.

“Back me up Jimmy, we’re gonna have to shoulder check this,” you grouse and tense up and lower your shoulder.

Sure, the kid is probably 90lbs soaking wet but you’ll need some help forcing this door open.

“Wait, Miss Lane, I have a key!” a familiar voice catches up to you as you see Charles Brown running up and undoing his tie, by this point given his missteps reaching you he may actually be tipsy above buzzed, “Did you notice we were still level too?”

You nod while he slaps his Lex Corp employee badge against the door’s console roughly, it swings in to reveal the cockpit. The pilot and co-pilot seat is empty as only a side seat is filled by a frantic looking communications crew officer weeping into their headset about not knowing what to do.

The missiles are getting closer, but they aren’t alone in the sky. A dark shape is speeding from New Troy island in this distance with no smoke trail.

A bird? A propeller plane trying to be a hero? Not your concern as its still so far off.

“Where the hell are the pilots?!” Jimmy joins the comm officer in tearful worry.
>>
>>4422045

“Luthor had them disembark in Paris,” Charles explains angrily, “After it landed in Metropolis he was gonna tout his fully automated weather reactive p-AI-lot,”

You haven’t even registered or given him time to explain, you’ve already jumped the chair and taken hold of the stick. Charles follows your lead into the co-pilots chair and slams a button on the center console. This layout looks unlike any airplane you’ve ever seen, a simplified dettup with massive graphic user interface alongside analog controls.

“My decision making skills aren’t great right now,” Charles cries out, murmuring briefly for his therapist, “I’m following your lead,”

You take a moment to think, and lean forward to push on the stick, your best bet is going under. That barrage of missile fire isn’t on a completely stable course, but true to your instinct they aren’t tracking your movements as you begin dipping toward the water. Charles follows suit, hitting the air brakes so that you aren’t nose diving at full speed into the water and can still pull up afterwards.

Looking up, to laugh at the missiles you both realize your folly and see a miracle.

“Holy cats,” Jimmy Olsen balances leaning against the back of the captain’s chair you occupy.

Speeding away from the back line of smoke clouds, Jimmy would later tell you they swatted them out of the sky before they veered off and exploded, the thing you saw approaching from New Troy Island keeps course darting between the rockets ahead of you just as the forward most missiles careen overhead. You took precious seconds too long figuring out what to do, and even with the thinned line a few strike and explode along the top surface of the plane and you imagine the parafoil. Still...better than if they had all impacted against the viewing window...

Lois Lane, those in the cockpit, and passenger deck take 3 Harm, injury but not severe. Top deck flight crew and passengers there take 4 Harm, some are significantly injured

That impact rocks the cockpit but you couldn’t care less despite the jostling hurt as this miraculous figure slows down matching speed with the descending space jet. Planting one hand against the glass dome window ahead for you and all the passengers to see, they lock eyes with you and point up with their free hand before it plants itself on the glass alongside the other.
>>
>>4422047

You pull. You and Charles pull for all you’re worth as Jimmy ever holding his camera where he fell snaps the shutter on what you can only imagine will end his internship and land him a salaried position. If you live through this that is. They beyond the class plant themselves against nothing and with impossible to understand physics gently but strongly guide and lift. You wonder if they strain at the weight or staring not to break what they hold asunder.

Describe this miracle
>Barrel chested stern faced caucasian strongman exuding a confident smile
>An athletically built caucasian man with a gentle reassuring smile
>A muscular and broad shouldered caucasian man with a calm strong jawed face
>A resolved serious faced hispanic man with short hair, a moustache, and stress lines
>A dark haired caucasian woman with significant shoulders and a pixie cut
>A younger looking blonde caucasian woman of athletic build face scoured with worried excitement
>A blonde haired caucasian woman with awkward worry but resolved confidence on her face.
>A short haired blonde caucasian woman with a confident smirk and broadly set shoulders
>A short haired muscularly built african american man with a serene confident expression

What are they wearing
>Jeans, white t-shirt/babydoll tee, black riding jacket
>Jeans, white t-shirt/babydoll tee, Long trench coat, stylish S belt buckle
>Jeans, boots, a blue T-shirt emblazoned with a stylized S shield
>A red caped strongman’s outfit. Blue bodysuit w/ red Trunks/Skirt and the S shield
>A red caped form fitting bodysuit of strange unknown material
>A red caped segmented armored bodysuit of strange make
>A red caped white bodysuit.
>A grey cloak over some unknown bodysuit
>Blue Pants and shirt under an open red jacket
>Black jeans, paintball armor sprayed with a white S, a pilots hood, and a tattered black cape
>A bomber jacket, goggles, a trailing red scarf, and sturdy rough hewn pants and books.
>>
>>4422054
>A younger looking blonde caucasian woman of athletic build face scoured with worried excitement
>Jeans, boots, a blue T-shirt emblazoned with a stylized S shield
>>
>>4422054
>>A resolved serious faced hispanic man with short hair, a moustache, and stress lines
>>A bomber jacket, goggles, a trailing red scarf, and sturdy rough hewn pants and books.
>>
>>4422054
>A muscular and broad shouldered caucasian man with a calm strong jawed face
>A red caped strongman’s outfit. Blue bodysuit w/ red Trunks/Skirt and the S shield
>>
>>4422054
>>A bomber jacket, goggles, a trailing red scarf, and sturdy rough hewn pants and boots.
>>A dark haired caucasian woman with significant shoulders and a pixie cut
>>
>>4422054
>An athletically built caucasian man with a gentle reassuring smile
>A red caped form fitting bodysuit of strange unknown material
>>
>>4422066
>>4422092
>>4422054

Well, if no one is going for mine I still want to go with a female option. Let's have a woman break the DC Masquerade this time.
>>
>>4422128
Not opposed to your female option either, actually.
Split the difference and go for the short haired blonde?
>>
>>4422109
>>
>>4422143
Okay with me. Girls with short hair just do something for me. Also, to paraphrase Spike Spiegel, I love a girl that can kick my ass. A Super Girl would definitely be a thumbs, among other things, up.
>>
>>4422150
Agreed. Remember to tag back the voting post too.

>>4422054
>>4422092
Switching to
>>A short haired blonde caucasian woman with a confident smirk and broadly set shoulders
>>
>>4422054
>>4422066
>>4422166

Switching to this as well.
>>
>>4422054
>>A muscular and broad shouldered caucasian man with a calm strong jawed face
>A red caped segmented armored bodysuit of strange make
>>
>>4422066
I'll support that.
>>
>>4422054
>>A short haired blonde caucasian woman with a confident smirk and broadly set shoulders
>>Jeans, boots, a blue T-shirt emblazoned with a stylized S shield
>>
>>4422216
We worked out an alliance for the short-hair blonde option.
Whether you want in or not, remember to tag the Artemis' post with the vote options or it might not get counted.
>>
>>4422054
>>A bomber jacket, goggles, a trailing red scarf, and sturdy rough hewn pants and boots.
>>
>>4422244
>A short haired blonde caucasian woman with a confident smirk and broadly set shoulders
Forgot a part of that.
>>
Calling it and art commissioned.
>>
File: Daily Planet Quest Supes.png (1.46 MB, 1920x1080)
1.46 MB
1.46 MB PNG
Succinct.
>>
>>4422385
Nice.
>>
>>4422395
I said surprise me with the poses for two pieces. One in the DCAU artstyle. The other in the artist's own artstyle.

I am expecting at least one to be a Superdickery pose...which would be fine.
>>
She provides leverage and balance in helping to lift the nose of the massive flying wing, seemingly surprised things are going so well under her ministrations until all of you feel a shuddering throughout the vessel while the world inside the cockpit levels out.

“She was...flying,” Charles whispers before the sobering effect of the emergency takes him more fully and he reads out components of the GUI, “We’ve lost primary and half of the support turbines. Parafoil is too damaged to control properly. All we have is the main wing controls and the chance to glide back to the airport, but without thrust we may be too heavy,”

Beyond the window, she’s reacting and nodding to what he’s saying. Her blue eyes seem briefly iridescent as they sweep across the distance of the wing with the quick pan of her head from side to side. She grits her teeth, inhales deeply, and nods before flashing the two of you a thumbs up.

Leaning back, she pulls ahead and away from the slowing aircraft. With a spin and a turn she’s facing forward and sinking ahead of the now gliding wing. There is a triangular shield insignia on her back housing a stylized S. She raises her arms above her head as if to carry something on her back as she slows down and slowly lets the wing overtake her.

There is another shuddering, but the glide of the L-60 KTE seems to stabilize and the altimeter stops dropping.

“She’s doing it,” you and Charles Brown say in unison before he continues, “We’ll...I think we’ll make it to the airport...THE AIRPORT! Hey, what’s our status with Metropolis International?”

The comms officer, who had been staring with the rest of you, shakes themselves from an apparent stupor and returns to their direct line with the control tower at Metropolis International.

It’s easy flying from here on out, that the tarmac is clear and emergency services are en route. You drop the landing gear when you roughly imagine it’s appropriate on the final descent, but forces other than wind and gravity are keeping you at speed here. Charles observes as much in surprise and wonderment.

You have so many questions. That comes naturally to you as a reporter.

“Jimmy, come on,” you rise from the chair and leave Charles to finish breaking to complete the emergency landing.

In the scant few minutes of this final descent many of the staff who aren’t too hurt themselves are applying some measure of first aid ahead of the necessary triage to be done. For the moment you assist in preparing to help a few people who can move to the emergency exits and slides. The parabolic approach of sirens stirs you momentarily from your haze as the emergency door depressurizes and ejects itself from the wall, deploying the inflated slide in the process.
>>
>>4422707
And there you see her. Just a ways off from the SubOrbital Wing on the tarmac, facing away from you and given a wide berth by the first responders as police officers among them slowly break off to surround her. She is leaning a bit forward, as if catching her breath or nerves with her knees bowed and her hands against her legs to support her torso.

Do you want to spend your Hold 1 on Local Celebrity that this Strange Visitor might know who you are? We are nearing the end of the first event and to start the next mystery...
>Y
>N

“Who are you?” you wonder aloud as Jimmy throws himself down the slide with a nervous eagerness.

She turns, rises at that, while an approaching police officer maybe fifteen feet away from her raises one hand at her in a cautioning matter and says something you can’t hear while he and a few other hands reach for side arms and cuffs alike.

She gazes out at the scene around you, shrugs and sighs while laying hands on her hips. Taking a sweeping glance she seems even at this distance self assured and confident, proud of what she did here today before sparing a glance toward the handful of officers surrounding her and on approach.

She rises again, but not to her height. Again floating she tucks her arms behind her back with a smile before turning in grace while the long red scarf continues to trail in her wake before she turns again away toward the rest of the city and picks up speed until above the water an away from everyone as with a sudden burst a vortex ring breaks across and off of her frame casting the thunder of a sonic boom to echo across the skyline as she rockets away.

As Charles staggers up alongside you to look out after her retreating form in awe and wonder, you offer words you’ve been sitting on all night to break your own tension.

“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown,”

>Daily Planet Quest Prologue Complete.

Daily Planet Evening Edition Top Stories
>Dr Saul Erdel dies from heart attack during field test, collaborators say Zeta Beam project pushed back at least 5 years by loss of principal scientist. Byline Ron Troupe [J'onn J'onzz is stranded on Earth]
>Intergang Weapons Smuggling Implicated in Attack on LexCorp Flight. Byline Clara Kent
>Stuck in the Middle: Teacher of the Year Target of Gang Violence, Protection Detail Denied by MPD. Byline Cat Grant.
>HEADLINE. Panic in the Skies. Byline Lois Lane


Lois Lane Mark 2nd Experience Point

Next Post, The First Mystery

Back Issue Story Vote
>A dying man’s warning [Erdel]
>A Strange Adventure [Adam Strange]
>Training Begins Now [Dick Grayson]
>Life on the Farm [The Kents]
>100 Ways to Die [Jefferson Pierce]
>No small Mercy [Lex Luthor]
>What’cha Name, Man? [Doctor Emil Hamilton]
>>
>>4422709
>Y

>Life on the Farm [The Kents]
>>
>>4422709
>>Y
>A Strange Adventure [Adam Strange]
>>
>>4422709
Y
>No small Mercy [Lex Luthor]
>>
>>4422709
Y
>>
>>4422709
>Y
>Training Begins Now [Dick Grayson]
>>
>>4422709
>>Y
>>What’cha Name, Man? [Doctor Emil Hamilton]
>>
>>4422709
>Y
>100 Ways to Die [Jefferson Pierce]
>>
>>4422709
>>Y
>>No small Mercy [Lex Luthor]
>>
>>4422709
Is that a vote for or just a list of top stories?
>>
>>4422709
>Y
>Life on the Farm [The Kents]
>>
>>4422709
>>Life on the Farm [The Kents]
>>
>>4422709
>No small Mercy [Lex Luthor]
>>
>>4422916
Also
>Do you want to spend your Hold 1 on Local Celebrity that this Strange Visitor might know who you are?
Y
>>
>>4422709
>Y
>Life on the Farm [The Kents]
>>
>>4422884
List of top stories as of this point
>>
Wow...I seem to have garnered a LOT of attention with the end of this prologue.

How did everyone find the start of Daily Planet Quest?
>>
>>4422976
Was fun. As with PPQ once upon a time, I like the idea of collaboratively creating our own universe in the wider multiverse of the comics. The fact you let us mix and match or just outright go nuts with the versions of the characters helps with that.
>>
>>4422976
It was good. No surprise given whose writing.
>>
Point of order, had you gone with Hernan or Calvin Ellis as your flavor of Kryptonian, I would not have been as subtle as I usually am with social issues over in my Sailor Moon fanfic quest.
>>
>>4422709
>>Y
>>A Strange Adventure [Adam Strange]
>>
Don't know what options you'll have on the story hunt, but instinct is to follow the being shot at with missiles story. That's a lot of hardware and a high value/visibility target. Looks like Ms Smallville managed to land an Intergang angle on that, though a bit much for it to be targetting just us and our Intergang piece wasn't public yet.
Maybe see if we can get at her sources and find out more.
While sending Olsen pull everything he can find on reports of playing people and the guardian angel to review for clues/leads to chase later
>>
>>4423125
-if it was just for us, we must have really cheesed someone off, and probably a mole, leak, or hack somewhere trying to kill the story and us.
Going to take it on faith that Perry is good, in which case the leak isn't on his end or he/files would have been targetted too, they didn't know the story was turned in already, so that narrows it down.
>>
>>4423125
>>4423134

Perry said he was dropping it on the front page of the website ahead of the Afternoon edition.
>>
>>4423140
Was probably the article then...
>>
>>4423140
With the morning flight, figured it hadn't been up yet before we were up in the air.. but yeah that was on the return trip, so then it would have been up.
So, we either really pissed someone off, just happened to be in the crosshairs of someone else on the flight that Intergang sold the missiles to, or Intergang offered missiles to someone else at a discount to encourage taking us out along with another target.
>>
>>4422709
>A dying man’s warning [Erdel]
>>
Alright, gonna write [b]Life on the Farm[/b]
>>
File: Kent Barn.jpg (109 KB, 1280x720)
109 KB
109 KB JPG
Rolled 3, 6 + 2 = 11 (2d6 + 2)

Life on the Farm
>https://soundcloud.com/search?q=Somebody%20Save%20me%20smallville

It is approximately 11:30 am in Lowell County Kansas, one hour behind time on the east coast somewhere like the District of Metropolis between Delaware and New Jersey. Time isn’t so much behind, that’s just how the zoning works, but compared to the big city most things here move pretty slowly.

Not bothering to fish out a wrench from the nearby toolbox, Jonathan Kent takes hold of a rather large metal bolt on his tractor with just the oil rag in the barn workshop. He takes a deep breath and centers himself, he isn’t as young as he used to be but he is relatively certain he can still pull this trick to save time rather than hauling himself up and out from under the tractor and laying himself back down.

That back and forth can be rough on the back, might as well just do what he needs while he’s down there.

“Johnathan!” his wife, Martha, calls out as she enters the barn with a hurried voice, “Johnathan are you in here?”

“Under the tractor,” he calls out and sighs in relief, “Mind handing me the spanner while you’re here?”

He hears the sound of metal clanking and after a few short steps a weight is placed in his hand. Right tool for the job in hand and no risk to the lower back in retrieving it.

“Everything alright?” he questions while loosening the bolt and moves a drip pan into place.

“It’s Clarabelle,” she sighs and sits down next to where he lays leaning against the forward wheel of the tractor, “She’s finally done it, bless her heart. Weeks of growing bolder and she goes and does it, and only days after she landed a job too!”

Re-tightening the bolt he pulls himself on the roller out from beneath the tractor and looks up and over at his wife.

“By it, I’m gonna assume you mean she did something that can’t be plausibly denied,” he questions with a from but then smiles broadly, “So, what’d our girl do now?”

Martha holds up her phone and taps it, more than a few times trying to get the cursor back to the start of the very recently very hastily posted video. He watches as the smoking flying wing wobbles on approach from someone’s video of the landing less than an hour prior, zooming in as it passes overhead of an outer roadway on Hell’s Gate Island in Metropolis.

And there she is, holding up the damn plane.

He whistles, he laughs.

“Jonathan, don’t laugh. This is serious! What if the government goes after her...I’m so proud but I’m also so worried,” Martha grouses but then deflates, “but I’m not gonna scold her for doing the right thing,”
>>
>>4424013
“No...no I don’t think we ought to read her any riot acts over this one. What’s that she’s wearing? Looks like a smaller cut of my Grandpa Eben’s flight jacket,” he reminisces, “Remember how I put it over her shoulders the night we found them, shivering in the crash. I swear that girl wore it for three years straight,”

“I am not looking forward to when he finds out,” she finally laughs too, “We can’t keep them from the world forever, can we?”

There is a rush of air, the oil rag and the loose detritus of hay kicks up and flutters around the barn as a young man bounces on the balls of his feat ahead of them. Most things move slow out in Smallville, this boy was not one of them. He’s tall for his age and for now a bit lanky, maybe eleven or twelve years old, and a look of absolute excitement covers his features.

“Ma! Pa! Did you see! Did you see what Clara did!” he is an excited ball of joyous energy in this moment, some would swear he could rocket into the sky with that much juice, others knew he could.

Or at least would once he got over his worry about what happened when Johnathan and Clarabelle had gotten the bright idea to tow him like a kite behind the pickup to help him learn.

“Clark Kent! You should be in school right now; we can talk about Clarabelle when the day is done,” Martha hauls herself up with the aid of the tire, Jonathan considers a moment asking her or Clark for a hand one she’s up.

“I’m sorry Ma, since it’s lunch I figured I could just be here and back after I saw it on Pete’s phone,” the boy scratches the back of his head embarrassed, “Also I may have forgotten my bag in the fridge,”

Martha sighs and smoothes the boy’s hair out before kissing him on the forehead.

“Well then go get it and get back there,” she scolds lightly, “I’m sure we’ll either hear from her or see her tonight,”
>>
>>4424021
Ah, I see that QM has decided to go for the scenario where both Kara and Kal reached Earth-??? at the same time.
>>
>>4424091
Yes. By circumstance of their ships not getting separated: Kara & Kal arrived in Kansas later than he would have alone but earlier than she would have alone. The cousins were adopted by the Kents as siblings, and when Clark started noticing he was different Clara was there with experience and guidance alongside the Kents supportiveness so he feels a little less the unsure outsider.
>>
Daily Planet Quest. The First Mystery. (Rolling Local Celebrity for the Mystery)

It is the day after the world changed. Or at least, the day after the world knew it had changed. Your initial article was written and out before the afternoon edition even hit the streets. Back to back you wrote pulitzer worthy stories. One an investigation into judicial corruption and blackmail by intergang. The other about the Panic in the Sky, the miracle, and the events and circumstances leading up to it both in the sky and on the ground.

Some new staffer had actually been working on a story about the weapon smuggling Intergang was doing that allowed them to try and shoot the experimental craft out of the sky. Though motives in the attack were yet unknown, she did her leg work well. While you dominate the front page with this, she managed the top of her article down page.

You wrote with a fury, demanding everything Jimmy had on the previously mysterious Guardian Angel who had been doing the impossible by increasing steps in the city. Appearance as described is consistent, except for one where a mugger said her face was clad in clinging dark shadows while her eyes glowed like the fires of hell.

Her eyes were blue, a hauntingly piercing blue. Like they could see through you...could they see through you? She seemed like she could hear you in the cockpit over the wind, explosions, remaining jet engines, and screams through the insulated glass meant to secure things in space. That cockiness and that smile, she was excited to be there. Was she excited to show off how strong she was? Excited to help people? Excited to be seen without fear?

People don’t come out of nowhere, unless they’re Mercy Graves. They have lives that lead them to the people they are...who was she and if she can do all this where has she been all her life? No, the things she did could be something she acquired. You’re lost in thought, asking the wrong questions.

Because you’ve just barged into the meeting room early to speak with the Chief.

“Good timing, Lois, I want you to be the first to meet our new hire on the city desk,”

Walking into the room behind you is a bespectacled woman with short blonde hair tied back…
>carrying herself in awkward excitement, wearing a baggy sweater with shirt tails and slacks (Mellisa Benoist style)
>carrying herself in gentle confidence in a modestly cut blue pants suit holding a laptop bag in front of her (STAS Clark inspired)
>carrying herself in friendly aloofness in her jeans and open flannel over a Smallville Crows Tee
>carrying herself confidently and brash in a short blue jacket and torn red pants (Lauren Faust, what have you wrought?!)
>carrying herself with an open friendly confidence in a blue suit & tie with provocative fit (Karen Starr comics style outfit)

“Clarabelle Kent,” Perry introduces you.
>>
Rolled 6, 1 - 1 = 6 (2d6 - 1)

“Clara, please,” she offers in response with a nod to Perry before turning to you, “It’s nice to meet you, and work with you, I’m a big fan!”

You spent your Local Celebrity Hold 1 on her- I mean the unexpected heroine. Why am I bringing this up here?

“I’ve been reading her stuff, she’s good. I want you to let her tag along with you, get the lay of the land after this meeting,” Perry explains.

You’ve read her work, well you read her story in yesterday’s issue especially how it related to your experience and it got your brain working.

“Have we met?” you question of the girl.

“Ever been to Kansas?” she offers in a tone that matches her presentation and style.

>No. (not polite or impolite)
>God No. (impolite)
>Can’t say I have (polite)
>Say nothing and sit down (dismissive)
>No, somewhere else... (suspicious)
>I’ve been meaning to (endearing)
>Yeah, no, strictly flyover (aggressive)
>Write in

The rest of the City Desk filters in, not every writer at the planet but some of the most important ones by your metric. Perry bids Clara to take a seat at the table, she seems an up and comer one article in. Seats are taken. And projecting on the monitor on the wall of the meeting room Perry starts a picture and video slideshow.

Perry white clicks pause on his tablet after a few minutes of silent and intense observation as the screen shared video from Jimmy’s digital camera rests on that woman mid action.

“What is that?” Perry White asks, jerking his thumb at the screen with a pained and frustrated mean, “Can anyone tell me?”

The room is silent. Ron Troupe looks on in reflective curiosity, deep in thought about these things in a similar manner to your own considerations. Steve Lombard leans back in the chair, munching a protein bar while flipping through photos on his phone shared from Jimmy’s cloud of the woman. Cat Grant leans over a spread of those prints of the same with an eye more critical than appraising. Richard White flips through print outs of the witness accounts from Jimmy’s research and witnesses to the L-60 KTE incident. Max Mencken just shakes his head and looks positively done with this, you agree because his beat is society and theater. Come to think of it, Steve is sports. Why are they even here?

Franklin Stern, the paper’s owner as of 4 months ago, stands at the back of the room, having taken an interest in these matters.
>>
>>4424976
“A flying lady, Chief!” Jimmy himself offers excitedly, in the middle of a long table meeting of most of the assembled writing staff.

“No kidding,” Perry sighs and approaches Jimmy and shakes his tablet in the blazer and bowtie clad ginger’s general direction admonishing him, “I know she’s flying but who is she? Where’d she come from? What does she want?!”

The room remains silent as Perry White pulls himself back, going over some calming mantra in his head. It makes you happy he’s taking his doctor’s advice on trying to de-stress himself.

“Look who I’m asking,” he lays a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, perhaps thinking better of berating his newest staff photojournalist, “Sorry kid, anyone else?”

You were there and you have some things to say…

>Write in. Try to reach a consensus, or I’ll fold things in as a strange stream of conscious rant.
>>
...Local Celebrity fails

Lois Lane marks 3rd Experience.
>>
>>4424972
>carrying herself in awkward excitement, wearing a baggy sweater with shirt tails and slacks (Mellisa Benoist style)
>No, somewhere else... (suspicious)
>>4424978
>Write in.
ask about previous sightings? I got nothing.
>>
>>4424972
>carrying herself in gentle confidence in a modestly cut blue pants suit holding a laptop bag in front of her (STAS Clark inspired)
>>4424976
>Can’t say I have (polite)
>No, somewhere else... (suspicious)
>>
>>4424972
>carrying herself in friendly aloofness in her jeans and open flannel over a Smallville Crows Tee
>Can’t say I have (polite)
>I went over the testimonials and coverage of the Guardian Angel Jimmy has done over the last few weeks. Honestly, that girl is our angel from the looms of it. That means that they were building themselves up to this.
>>
>>4424972
>>carrying herself in gentle confidence in a modestly cut blue pants suit holding a laptop bag in front of her (STAS Clark inspired)
>>4424976
>>Yeah, no, strictly flyover (aggressive)
>>4424978
>>Write in. Try to reach a consensus, or I’ll fold things in as a strange stream of conscious rant.
"Nice 'S'..."
>>
>>4424972
>>carrying herself in friendly aloofness in her jeans and open flannel over a Smallville Crows Tee
>>4424976
>>Write in
Rarely, have some family out that way.
>>4424978
>>Write in. Try to reach a consensus, or I’ll fold things in as a strange stream of conscious rant.
(Brain is a bit fried, I'll come back to this)
>>
>>4424978
>>4425285
>Woooooooords
From what we can tell from Jimmy's research, she's been helping out with little things around Metropolis for at least <X time>, ramping up as time passed. More sightings, bigger crimes.. while still helping get cat out of trees.
I dunno Chief, if i didn't see it myself I would've written it off as a new social media craze of people copying each other says they were helped by this "guardian angel".
..we might want to work on that branding or we'll have religious nuts writing in to us if we plaster "angel" all over our articles.
>>
>>4425376
"Pretty enough to be one though.."
"Nah, no wings and the getup is earthly enough."
"Metropolis Guardian?"
"Sounds like a competing newspaper."
"Can you zoom in on the chest?"
"Stuff it Phil, I know what you're about."
"No really, look."
"...Nice 'S'"
"Savior?"
"Ugh, almost as bad as angel."
>>
>>4425392
"Could try asking-"
"Sure thing, you have her number?"
"Maybe put an offer out to interview the.. er..?"
"See? We need at least a placeholder to get started."
"Flying Samaritan?"
"Levitating Lass?"
"Scarfy McScarfface?"
*groans and thrown objects*
>>
>>4424978
>carrying herself in awkward excitement, wearing a baggy sweater with shirt tails and slacks (Mellisa Benoist style)
>No, somewhere else... (suspicious)

other than that, full support for the Guardian angel connection and probing a bit about the S. I like Scary McScarfface
>>
>>4424976
>carrying herself in awkward excitement, wearing a baggy sweater with shirt tails and slacks (Mellisa Benoist style)
>No, somewhere else... (suspicious)
>>
>>4424972
>>carrying herself in friendly aloofness in her jeans and open flannel over a Smallville Crows Tee
>I’ve been meaning to (endearing)
>>
>>4424972
>>carrying herself confidently and brash in a short blue jacket and torn red pants (Lauren Faust, what have you wrought?!)
>>Can’t say I have (polite)
>>
>>4424976
>carrying herself in friendly aloofness in her jeans and open flannel over a Smallville Crows Tee
>Can’t say I have (polite)
>>
>>4424972
>>4424976
>>4424978
>>carrying herself in friendly aloofness in her jeans and open flannel over a Smallville Crows Tee
>>No, somewhere else... (suspicious)
>>Write in.
We know she's playing the good samaritan schtick. Any connections between incidents? How's she getting her info?
>>
Rolled 3, 3 + 2 = 8 (2d6 + 2)

Gearing up for a big post before day’s end.

We have Flannel Aloof Crows Tee for Clara’s initial look and feel.
And Lois, you are suspicious.
You also seem to be leading the room in a discussion rather than stealing the floor yourself.

Rolling another Investigate a Mystery
>>
Alright, an 8

You get to ask 1 question of the QM to represent Lois’s investigation in going back over everything she’s read and researched since yesterday.

Also, I should note, its been 1 Night so Lois’S accumulated Harm has dropped from 3 to 2, she’s okay but still a little bruised and rattled from yesterday.

Your Questions on Deck

• What happened at the building where rockets were launched?
• What sort of Person is this Guardian Angel?
• What can that Woman do?
• What can hurt her?
• Where did the missile guys go?
• Where did she go?
• What was is she going to do?
• What is being concealed here in the room?
• What Is being concealed by Clarabelle Kent
• What Is a common connective thread between the Angel sightings?
>>
>>4425702
>• What Is a common connective thread between the Angel sightings?
>>
>>4425702
>What happened at the building where rockets were launched?
>>
>>4425702
>• What happened at the building where rockets were launched?
>>
>>4425702
>still a little bruised and rattled from yesterday.
ergo
>• Where did the missile guys go?
Have wonder where the people blowing us up went.
>>
>>4425702
What sort of Person is this Guardian Angel?
>>
Writing
>>
“No...somewhere else?” you question while looking the woman up and down.

She lacks professionalism in her attire, you can’t tell if that’s just a symptom of your generation as you had to whip yourself into looking the part once you landed this job. And it is such a chore. No, she’s aloof in her overworn tee you figure she’s had for years, and the jeans aren’t torn in the way you expect these things to come pre frayed. It matches the initial roughness of her handshake, which just sells her post farmgirl hipster chic. Though, she isn’t being entirely forthright about herself and you can’t place why.

“Smallville?” you question the name on her attire.

“Yeah, hometown. Even after college and time abroad I still wave for the home team,” she shrugs, “They got a pretty good lineup this year and I think they’ll go state,”

“Cheersquad?” your question pokes over her investment.

“No, enthusiast,” she shrugs.

You sit down and consider the girl with a nod before the others start filtering their way into the room. Ruminating on what you gleaned from her article about Intergang’s weapon smuggling and security footage from the building you were able to get access to with a few phone calls to a few friends you’ve managed to keep in the MPD.

Nothing for nothing, Maggie Sawyer owes you as much as you still owe her.

Clara’s article was good. Well researched and feet in the muck of things, asking the right questions, the right places about the wrong shipments and bribery in the back alley ways of hobb’s bay. Turns out the two of you have a mutual informant in down on his luck shoreman Bibbo Bibbowsky.

It tracks that the rockets came to intergang by way of Kaznian traders, a different ship than the currently moored Diplomatic Vessel on the other side of the city, by way of Bialya. Among those setting the battery up on that St. Martin’s Island rooftop was an Intergang Enforcer you recognized, Whisper A’Daire. Someone who is supposedly in the gang’s inner circle with Bruno Manheim and a number of otherwise unknown nerdowells. Actually, you can see the rooftop from here. It makes you a little uneasy they could have just blown out the Daily Planet...but why Lex’s flight?

A hired hit? Corporate rivalry or sabotage? Lex himself looking to bank in on the insurance money? All good options, what’s certain though is that the missile attack on the L-60 KTE had nothing to do with you.

-
>>
>>4425904
Well, if no one else is going to do anything, you may as well start up. You and Jimmy are the eye witnesses here and he hasn’t volunteered anything useful besides the research already done. Though it’s now or never, considering that percolating look on Cat’s face.

“I went over Jimmy’s collection of the testimonials and notes on this Guardian Angel from the last few weeks, and it looks like she’s our it,” you jerk your thumb at the screen and narrow your eyes, “She’s been helping out across the city for at least a month and a half. And she was ramping up over time, initially she was in and out of whatever crime she was foiling or rescue she was doing like a red blue blur, but the longer she was at it the more sloppy she was with being hidden,”

You get up and out of your chair and motion for the chief to give you the tablet controlling the monitor. He acquiesces and sits with a thump into his chair at the top of the conference room before swiveling to watch.

You swipe through to one of the later incidents. A car crash at the intersection of Siegel and Schuster in the middle of the night, car fire. A handprint on the top of the car like those found on the bottom of Luthor’s KTE.

“Right here, she didn’t need to grip like this, given what she did in the sky she was frustrated with holding back. She was building herself up to this, to do something she couldn’t take back,”

You let it hang in the air.

“And now, with everyone and their mother coming out with a new Guardian Angel story, like some new age social media meme craze, it’s gonna be hard to figure the real accounts going forward from the chaff. Maybe even religious zealots if we keep calling her an angel,” you hum.

“She’s more than pretty enough to be one,” Steve crinkles his moustache, tossing the wrapper for his protein bar over his shoulder haphazardly, it doesn’t hit the trash.

“Well, why even angel. She doesn’t have wings,” Clara offers (insert persona qualifiers here)

“Yeah, I can’t imagine how that’ll play in the pews this weekend,” Max grouses, “Probably not in her favor if she’s lucky, probably worship if she’s not,”

“Worship?” Clara asks with uncertainty.

“She definitely does need work on branding,” Cat questions holding up one of the prints, “Can we see number 35 on screen again,”

She who holds the tablet leads the meeting, and is sometimes led by it.

There, when she’s turned away from the cockpit. Jacket and cape fluttering behind her, your eye is immediately drawn to the shield emblazoned across the back of her jacket.

“Nice ‘S’...” you offer and consider.

“Excuse me?” questions the new girl, looking down and over her thick glasses somewhat scandalized, before leaning back and closing her flannel overshirt over the Smallville team tee which goes unnoticed by most including yourself.

“Savior?” Rich offers setting down the witness accounts.
>>
>>4425906
“Samaritan?” Ron looks over to him answering his question with another question before making a declaration, “Flying Samaritan!”

“Those are almost as bad as angel,” Cat interjects, “and still too biblical,”

“What’s to say we aren’t in that territory?” Max considers with a frown, “Between theoretical science, magic, and some old testament shit at least. What about Saint?”

There is a quiet again at the table as a few of those assembled consider those implications and Max’s suggestion for a name.

“Scarfy McScarface,” Steve offers with serious finality before chuckling over his own joke to a chorus of boos, “What, thought it was funny,”

A few errant hastily crunched paper balls whing past Lombard’s head.

“I thought that was funny, Steve. Might even win an online poll. Seriously though, she’s Nietzsche’s ideal all wrapped up in a red scarf. Confident, driven, strong, fast, and impossible,” you break back into the momentum of conversation as you tap your chin, feeling a burgeoning contest between yourself and Cat Grant across the room, “The Superhuman. The super hero. Superwoman,”

“Superwoman?” Clara asks with an uncertain shock.

“What about Levitating Lass?” questions Jimmy, whose suggestion in this matter will go ignored until the thirtieth or thirty first century, not that he or you for that matter will be privy to that information for quite some time.

“Seems a bit, ostentatious?” Ron offers and rolls it around on his tongue a bit more comfortably with a more positive nod, “Superwoman...hmmm,”

“Agreed,” Cat Grant nods to Ron’s initial statement in quick critique before posing you a counter offer with a snap of her fingers, “Supergirl,”

Both you and the seemingly aloof girl regard Cat with a critical question.

“Are we trying to minimize the importance of this, of her? Doesn’t that come off as anti-feminist?” the new girl seems to roll her eyes and drolls at Cat.

Hmmm, though you’re suspicious of her you have to admit it will be nice having someone more Cat Grant’s polar opposite to draw her attention. Cat seems like she has this whole response prepared, probably originally aimed at you, but now redirected toward Kent before Lombard cuts her off.

“She’s got that whole tomboy thing going,” Steve considers while cracking open a can of Diet Zesti one handed, “Who’s to say she even identifies within the binary?”

A brief silence falls over the room as everyone looks at Steve Lombard, yourself included, in surprise.

“What, just cause I’m a meathead doesn’t mean I’m not aware. There are conversations about this left and right in athletics these days,”

“Anyway, what’s honestly wrong with ‘girl’,” Cat asks before gesturing to herself, Clara, and you, “I’m a girl, we’re girls. We’re professionals, powerful, capable of swaying public opinion. Let it be empowering,”
>>
>>4425909
>Stand your ground for Superwoman (Resulting from the Nice S line)
>Agree with Cat’s reasons for Supergirl

“Alright, it’s catchy. Now do we have anything other than a name that we didn’t have before?”

“I’ve already collected and trimmed Jimmy’s research, it and a selection of the best photos are already in your tray,” you offer Perry with a wave, “Slap the name on it and we’re as good to go as we’re going to be until she shows up again,”

“Well, I then I hope we won’t be sitting on our thumbs until she pops up again,” Franklin Stern, the owner, speaks up from the back, “Because I think I have a tangentially related lead for all of you,”

“Go ahead, Frank,” Perry gestures at his long time friend and collaborator as you return to your seat to contemplate what you parsed beyond Clara’s article on Intergan’s attempt on the SubOrbital plane.

“Less than ten minutes after the incident, a worm activated on almost every system on the planet,” he explains and places a jump drive onto the table, “No one knows about it broadly yet because it did squat. It's an old one, regular upkeep was done on it but the eggheads at BrilyantSoft, where I sit on the board, think its older origin point is why the current generation of baseline OS security wiped the floor with it. If it cropped up two months ago we wouldn’t even have known about it or what it did,”

“What did it do?” Clara and Rich question at the same time and shoot one another a brief look before turning back to Stern.

“It tried to systematically wipe every photo and video of our Superhero here,” he shrugs and places a hat on his head before heading toward the door, “I thought I’d leave it in all of your hands, the drive contains everything Byrna was able to lift out of that virus and it’s cache. Perry, are we still on for golf Saturday?”

“I’ll let you know after this pans out,” Perry says before taking in the room before pointing at the frozen image on the screen, “So, you’ve all got your own leads and jobs to work on, but keep this in mind if you stumble across anything else weird,”

Well, there’s a lot to do and you’re going to follow some leads on…and you’ll have Jimmy and the new girl helping or crowding you depending on whether or not you try to ditch them.
>>
>>4425916

[b]Choose your Assignment[/b]
>The intergang connection, Whisper A’Daire is a tangible lead you can follow
>Snap up the jump drive and dig into who might be interested in suppressing the Super
>You’ve got a connection at Star labs who might be able to answer the how of the Super
>If this guardian angel is real, there are more monsters to chase. The purple Cryptid!
>Take Perry’s earlier advice, get out of the city for a bit.

[b]Choose your support[/b]
>Take them both with you, show Clara the lay of the land like Perry asked
>Take them both with you, but your suspicion has you keeping Clara at arms length
>Try to ditch just Clarabelle (a difficult task)
>Try to ditch just Jimmy (relatively easy)
>Try to ditch Clarabelle with Jimmy (does the work for you)
>Write in
>>
>>4425916
>>Stand your ground for Superwoman (Resulting from the Nice S line)
>>Snap up the jump drive and dig into who might be interested in suppressing the Super
>>Snap up the jump drive and dig into who might be interested in suppressing the Super
>>
>>4425916
>>Stand your ground for Superwoman (Resulting from the Nice S line)

>>4425918
>You’ve got a connection at Star labs who might be able to answer the how of the Super
>Take them both with you, show Clara the lay of the land like Perry asked
>>
>>4425916
Stand your ground for Superwoman (Resulting from the Nice S line)
>If this guardian angel is real, there are more monsters to chase. The purple Cryptid!

If qe get in trouble good chance of meetig Superwoman and scoring an interview. Could make our career.
>Take them both with you, show Clara the lay of the land like Perry asked

We have out suspicions of Clara for some reason, sure. But, she has shown she can offer and second front against Cat. A sometimes ally would be better than none.
>>
>>4425918
>>The intergang connection, Whisper A’Daire is a tangible lead you can follow
Seems the least safe option.
>>Try to ditch just Jimmy (relatively easy)
Jimmy, try to find an egghead that can crack this nut. *gesture at drive*
Kent, time to follow up on our Intergang stories.
>>
By choosing the Suspicious option, you had the opportunity to ask questions about Clara in the previous investigate a mystery
>>
>>4425916
>Superlady?
Middle road suggestion.

(Though part of me wants to push for Wonder Woman and really mess with the naming conventions.)
>>
>>4425906
>red blue blur
> Siegel and Schuster
Nice

>>4425916
>Stand your ground for Superwoman (Resulting from the Nice S line)

>The intergang connection, Whisper A’Daire is a tangible lead you can follow
>Snap up the jump drive and dig into who might be interested in suppressing the Super
>Take them both with you, show Clara the lay of the land like Perry asked
>>
>>4425909
>>4425916
>>4425918
>>Stand your ground for Superwoman (Resulting from the Nice S line)
>>Snap up the jump drive and dig into who might be interested in suppressing the Super
>>Take them both with you, show Clara the lay of the land like Perry asked
Lets see if the vote goes through this time.
>>
Rolled 2, 6 + 2 = 10 (2d6 + 2)

Jimmy Olsen Investigates a Mystery!
>>
>>4425918
>Agree with Cat’s reasons for Supergirl
just sounds more catchy really
>Snap up the jump drive and dig into who might be interested in suppressing the Super
>Take them both with you, show Clara the lay of the land like Perry asked
>>
>>4426014
Also, with Clara, bringing her with lets us keep an eye on her.
>>
File: Superwoman Logo.jpg (112 KB, 880x391)
112 KB
112 KB JPG
“Superwoman is the name because it’s already my article,” you shoot back at Cat, “and I agree with Smallville there about finding it a bit reductive,”

Cat fixes you with a glare and then leans back in her chair. There is a promise in her eyes, that she doesn’t think this is fully over and it’ll be the court of public opinion that settles things.

Clarabelle for her part mouths out the name of her hometown as her face twists a bit, as if to ask if this if the name thrown at her is going to stick now.

The matter settles, you snatch up the jump drive and look at it excitedly, you manage to snatch it up before Rich can and the two of you share a momentary staredown before you smirk at him. Your eyes dance at him that it’s a finders keepers sort of day. The chief’s nephew gives a glare of resignation back. He’s never tried to pull rank at you, and you know he worked his way up from the bottom of the mail room, so you’re not gonna dance back at him over a claim of nepotism...but it's nice the two of you at least have some stability of conflict with one another.

And as far as other conflicts in the room go, your ongoing frackas with Cat, maybe it’ll be nice to have a sometimes ally with her in Clara.

“I’ll take the new girl with me on this Chief like you want, and Jimmy,” you haul up the slight built and overdressed lad, “I need someone who speaks better nerd than I do to parse this,”

“Uh, it was nice meeting everyone,” Clara offers a wave to the table and rises up to join the two of you before shoving her hands in her pocket and following with a slouch out of the room.

Behind you there is talk about dividing up other assignments. Troup wants to follow up on his last story with the new director of Star Labs Metropolis with Dr. Erdel’s passing.

“Soooo...do you make it a habit of throwing nicknames at people you’ve just met,” Clara catches up to the two of you and falls in step.

“Oh, Ms. Lane sure does,” Jimmy offers with a sigh while adjusting his bowtie, “I’m here less than a day and the entire floor was calling me Jimmy when I’ve always preferred James,”

Clara gives the garishly overdressed boy a once over and lays a hand meant to be comforting on his shoulder and fixes him with a sympathetic and soft glare from behind her square framed coke bottles. He is hopeful in this moment of found shared experience and kinship, but what she says next is a bit of a dick move. Perhaps even a super dick move.


Clarabelle Kent joins your Crew

“Sure you do, Jimmy,” she finishes and then turns to you, “Between the three of us, is this the best use of our time? I mean our Intergang stories have some overlap, with the inspection authorizations waved by one of your subject’s judicial signatures. Shouldn’t we focus on them?”
>>
>>4426700

“Listen Smallville, I know where that goes. While it’s worthwhile, I’m fully confident the Intergang story is going to come to us no matter what we do. I’d much rather sink my teeth into a global digital conspiracy,” you’re giddy as you shove the jump drive into Jimmy’s momentarily sullen hand, “Was this related to our mystery woman? Is it someone trying to suppress anything like this from gaining media traction? Have there been others? Oh I can practically feel the article forming,”

“Okay...you’re the seasoned reporter,” she makes a backing up/halting motion with her hands, “Show me how you work and Perry’s lay of the land,”

After a brief stop in IT for an off network laptop, you and Clara hover on either side of Jimmy as he opens the drive and begins poking around.

Fred Stern said Byrna fashioned the contents from the code writ of the computer worm that was supposedly everywhere. Considering the company he name dropped you imagine he was talking about Byrna Brilyant herself. Everything Jimmy looks through is all greek to you, between sections of code, cached txt files, and Byrna’s own notes. She must be a genius to have done so much with this matter since just yesterday.

He’s tinkering for a solid hour, occasionally humming to himself, and fidgeting as he tabs through various files and then checks for this or that on his phone. Clara for her part seems to be able to follow exactly what he’s doing.

At some point he takes out a thumb drive of his own and copies some garbled lines of text and runs it through some kind of...base 65 nonsense that you don’t understand and the bunching this or that into a browser search engine.

“Huh,” Clara says leaning a little further, perhaps uncomfortably, over his shoulder before turning to face him, “McCarthy?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. Gaps match up with dates that are missing from our digital archive,” he says with some serious concern.

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” you question between your two attaches.

“This thing, yeah it was primed to try and wipe all digital evidence of this…” she pauses and sighs to say it, perhaps she has some misgivings about the name after all, “Superwoman from the internet, and it definitely has done stuff like this before,”

“The kicker is, I have a bunch of dates in the activity cache that it was apparently looking for during previous runs that line up with some inconsistencies in our digital archive,” he nods and smiles proudly, “Which means we need to hit microfilm storage!”

“Or we could hit an address in the city that it was also erasing in earlier activity periods,” Clara suggests.

“So, what about McCarthy?”

“Dates line up with some hearings in 51,” Jimmy shrugs and then sighs, “Even more than half a century later this jerk drops work in my family’s lap,”
>>
>>4426701

Which lead will you investigate?
>Into the Microfilm Archives, currently hosted for manual restoration at Metropolis University across town
>Investigate the address Jimmy found; a condemned brownstone in Midtown either named or once owned by someone named Carter Hall
>Try to set up(by hook or crook) a meeting with Byrna Brilyant. The tech mogul may offer more insight to her find, and a quote for print
>Try to set up a meeting with your informants who might be relevant to these investigations

Do you want to chat with Clara or Jimmy about anything? Any general small talk?
>Write in

The wheels of Intergang even ignored turn, and a hit on Lois Lane was placed…
>in house, they can clean up their own mess
>with The 100 Gang, as a local outsourcing
>with Honor Guest, The Silencer
>with Slade Wilson, Deathstroke the Terminator
>with Floyd Lawton, Deadshot
>with Sandra Wu-San, The Lady Shiva
>>
>>4426703
>>Investigate the address Jimmy found; a condemned brownstone in Midtown either named or once owned by someone named Carter Hall
Microfilm should be there later, if there's someone behind this at the address they might be realizing it didn't work this time.

>Do you want to chat with Clara or Jimmy about anything? Any general small talk?
Connection between Jimmy's family and McCarthy?
Smallville's tech literacy?

>The wheels of Intergang even ignored turn, and a hit on Lois Lane was placed…
>>in house, they can clean up their own mess
>>
>>4426703
>>4426726
I can back this.
>>
>>4426703
>>4426726
I'll back this combination.
>>
>>4426726
+1
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JU2hKAnz9w
>>
>>4426726
+1
>>
>>4426703
>>Into the Microfilm Archives, currently hosted for manual restoration at Metropolis University across town
>>with The 100 Gang, as a local outsourcing
>>
>>4426703
>Investigate the address Jimmy found; a condemned brownstone in Midtown either named or once owned by someone named Carter Hall
>Write in
ask Clara about the name. any different suggestions?
with Sandra Wu-San, The Lady Shiva
>>
Rolled 4, 1 + 3 = 8 (2d6 + 3)

Rolling Manipulate Someone on Clarabelle Kent. Applying an existing hold from the prologue's use of Local Celebrity for no reason since Clarabelle Kent isn't who you applied it to, what are you talking about?!

See if you can get a little closer to understanding Clara Kent by having her open up a little.
>>
Rolled 5, 5 + 2 = 12 (2d6 + 2)

Rolling Jimmy's Weird for no reason or actual in game move. Just because he's said something that tempts certain fates in his future.
>>
“Microfilm should be there later, if there's someone behind this at that address they might be realizing it didn't work this time,” you say with dedicated finality and a firm grasp and understanding of the situation.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” Jimmy says, closing the laptop after taking the time to properly and safely eject the jump drive while you put your jacket back on and check the fit of your shoes for some abandoned building urban spelunking, “I explained it poorly!”

“Yeah, the address wasn’t an origin point, it was another target parameter within one of the date ranges,” Clara expresses while smoothing out her flannel overshirt, “Like, in the previous activity cache. The worm was erasing information about it from fourth quarter 1940 through to the mid sixties,”

“Still worth investigating if there’s something there whoever is behind this doesn’t want people knowing about,” you reason after parsing what the two of them have to say and check that you have one of the most important pieces of equipment, your Metropolis Transit Authority Card.

“Well, yeah. Plus if it lines up against anything good we find in the archive later it’ll be nice to have photos of the place for comparison shots,” Jimmy excitedly slots a chip into his digital camera and a fresh roll from his desk drawer into his analog bruiser.

Clara checks over his gear appraisingly.

“Why two cameras?” she questions.

“Well, digital has its place but I adore analogue and its associated techniques,” Jimmy smiles broadly, “Plus, this was my dad’s camera...so I consider it my good luck charm,”

A surprise tool that might help us later? Jimmy’s dad...
>was/is actually secretly a secret agent with the N.I.A
>was/is a part time car mechanic and full time drunk in Oklahoma City
>was/is a Vietnam Vet who fathered Jimmy later in his life
>was/is an Operation Desert Storm Vet
>was/is a career soldier MIA believed KIA in the opening weeks of the Afghanistan
>write in

“I’m getting a he’s not around anymore vibe,” Clara offers sadly as the three of you exit on the planet’s first floor and move with haste toward the elevated monorail stop, “Commiserations, I lost my folks when I was still a kid,”

“Thanks, Clara,” Jimmy replies with a broad smile, “Though trust me when I say I love the work this thing can do over a purely digital device. The best shots I have of the Superwoman all come from this bad boy for sure, and I haven’t even finished developing the whole roll,”

“You darkroom it yourself?”

“Not all the time, but I’m not gonna leave these particular bad boys to any old photolab when I know I can trust these hands,” Jimmy shines talking about his professional acumen.

“That’s actually pretty cool. I’d love to see them some time,” Clara offers to the younger man with a smile, undercutting her earlier dickery, “Also, I liked Levitating Lass,”

“Really,”
>>
>>4427161

“Call me a sucker for alliterative names,” she whistles as you close in on the station.

The three of you wind up a bit delayed in your late morning travel as you have to wait for Clara to purchase a rechargeable MTAcard. St. Martin’s island isn’t flush with tourists like New Troy island normally is so there’s no line, but still it's an obtuse and obsolete second generation touch screen interface whose screen’s are reliably off by an inch or two. Doesn’t seem to slow her down any, though.

“How have you managed without a card if you’ve been here two weeks?” you question of Clara as she does hit a snag struggling to feed bills rather than a debit card to the machine.

“Hoofing it, usually,” she explains with some exasperation as a bill is returned to her for a third time, “I like the exercise and frankly country girls make due,”

She kicks the machine a little this time and she pumps her fist when it accepts her bill and she is presented with a shiny new Metropolis Transit Authority Card.

Making your way up to the platform, you regard the girl carefully.

“You seem far too tech savvy and hipster for a country girl who just has to make due, Smallville,” you observe, not insultingly, toward the girl as she checks her glasses before pulling her flannel tight over her tee-shirt and buttoning it a little.

Manipulate Someone Rolled an 8
On a 7-9, another hunter can mark experience if they do what you ask.
Clara marks ??? experience.

Clara thinks about it a moment and sighs a bit. You have more questions about her, but learning she lost her parents at a young age has waylaid some of your strangers instincts to distrust and be suspicious of her.

“I wasn’t always a country girl,” she says with some guarded worry but relaxes, “Like, my parents were pretty smart people and that rubbed off on me I guess, and then my folks made sure to try and foster what I was good at as best they could after I was adopted. Did a comp sci minor in college too so...”

She shrugs within the too large flannel and quirks her head.

“Anyone can be anything, right? Doesn’t matter where we come from. Gained the hipster label just mixing farm and nerd in college,” she isn’t slouching as she says that with more than a hint of pride, “I actually think I own it pretty damn well,”

There is this hint of an accent that isn’t a drawl or twang that you can’t place, and you realize now that she isn’t slouching or being a faux slacker that she’s actually pretty tall. Taller than you for certain. How she manages to hide that is impressive, you knew some champion slouchers in your time but this is impressive. Still carrying on.

“And since we seem to be in a sharing mood, what about you Jimmy?” you query.

“What about what Ms. Lane?”

“What about your family and McCarthy?”
>>
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>>4427164

“Oh! My grandpa, great grandpa, great uncle, and the list goes on were all called in different hearings by the House Un-American Activities Committee back then,” he says, “Apparently someone got it in their head back then that the Olsens were a red menace,”

“That’s a little intense,” Clara observes.

“Yeah, well like my mom always warned me. Olsens don’t get to live ordinary lives,” he smiles and laughs, “And I think the most extraordinary thing to happen in my life already has in witnessing yesterday’s miracle,”

Jimmy Olsen’s Weird rolled a 12...choose his first incoming ignoble solo adventure
>A Giant Turtle Boy rises in Hob’s Bay!
>The Wolf-Man of Metropolis is on the howl and on the prowl!
>Stealing the Bat-Mobile entirely by accident and circumstance
>Stranded for a week & a half in the old west
>”When you get a Ruby, it is always cursed!”
>”By right of trial by combat we crown you KING of Gorilla City!”

“I was serious about seeing some of those pictures,” Clara affirms as the monorail pulls into place and the lot of you board toward Midtown.

“So, if the information was erased, what do we know about this place?” you question the two.

Clara is on her phone sorting through some quick searches.

“Just that it exists and either it was named or the last owner was named Carter Hall,” she shrugs, “It’s otherwise just a bigger than normal brownstone from the Lex Maps look of it,”

One tunnel dip and the passing of many high rises later you reach your destination. Clara admits she hasn’t seen the city from the monorail’s angle before, seeming kind of entranced by it.

After being let off with no transfers needed, you lead on foot toward the destination. An imposing brownstone with boarded windows in the middle of an otherwise nice neighborhood a few short blocks from the West River.

How do you want to snoop around?
>Find a way to break in on the first floor
>Find a fire escape to break in from the roof
>Spend some time asking around the neighborhood
>Buildings like this were taller, try the old city tunnels above the sewer
>Bang on the accessible but glass boarded with wood from door and see if anyone answers
>Write in
>>
>>4427165
>Stealing the Bat-Mobile entirely by accident and circumstance

>>4427165
>Buildings like this were taller, try the old city tunnels above the sewer
>>
>>4427161
>>was/is a career soldier MIA believed KIA in the opening weeks of the Afghanistan
>>Stealing the Bat-Mobile entirely by accident and circumstance
>>Buildings like this were taller, try the old city tunnels above the sewer
>>
>>4427161
>>was/is actually secretly a secret agent with the N.I.A
>>4427165
>>Stealing the Bat-Mobile entirely by accident and circumstance
>>4427165
>>Find a way to break in on the first floor
>>
>>4427161
>>was/is a Vietnam Vet who fathered Jimmy later in his life
>Stranded for a week & a half in the old west
>Find a fire escape to break in from the roof
>>
>>4427161
>A surprise tool that might help us later? Jimmy’s dad...
>>was/is actually secretly a secret agent with the N.I.A
>>was/is a Vietnam Vet who fathered Jimmy later in his life
Soldier then Vet was cover identity.

Should make note for Jimmy to go through his pictures at some point for stories he's used both for, missing digital ones could be clues to more stories.

>>4427165
>>Stranded for a week & a half in the old west

>>4427165
>Spend some time asking around the neighborhood
>>Buildings like this were taller, try the old city tunnels above the sewer
Betting folks have been trying to buy/complain about it for years, but worm kept quietly erasing records of it.
>>
>>4427161
>A surprise tool that might help us later? Jimmy’s dad...
>>was/is actually secretly a secret agent with the N.I.A
>>was/is a Vietnam Vet who fathered Jimmy later in his life

Can back this write-in mashup.

>>4427165
>The Wolf-Man of Metropolis is on the howl and on the prowl!

Werewolves of Metropolis doesn't really roll off the tongue well though.

>>Buildings like this were taller, try the old city tunnels above the sewer
>>
>>4427165
>Stealing the Bat-Mobile entirely by accident and circumstance
>Bang on the accessible but glass boarded with wood from door and see if anyone answers
Always start with the obvious
>>
Writing, very slowly.
>>
Commissions looking good.
>>
Jack Olsen was/is a Vietnam Vet who fathered Jimmy later in his life who also happens to be an Agent of NIA

Next time Jimmy Olsen is sent off on his own on assignment for the Daily Planet or any other reason he is going to steal the Bat-Mobile by accident & extenuating circumstances

Before the impressive brownstone, Jimmy whistles. Clara takes a moment to look at it over the top of her thickly framed glasses, you guess she’s nearsighted, and she frowns in certain dissatisfaction.

“So Ms. Lane, how’re we doing it this time?” Jimmy says with a sigh as he kneels down to dig through his shoulder bag, “I bought a grappling hook and nylon cord so I don’t get hurt jumping to pull down the fire escape and a short pry bar if we’re forcing our way through one of the boarded windows,”

In his time as your intern, Jimmy has learned to be prepared. More so than you usually are despite being the one who actively decides to do this things to her own risk, but that’s besides the point.

“Building this old probably used to be taller,” you smile considering where on New Troy Island you are, “No, we shouldn’t need to break anything until later if we take the undercity tunnels,”

“The undercity?” Clara questions, perhaps in ignorance as she glances down.

“Big pieces of the city, especially on New Troy Island were heavily redeveloped before the turn of the century. Like, literally the streets were raised fifteen or twenty feet in midtown against both concerns over coastal flooding and the construction of the original Metropolis Subway,” Jimmy rattles off with the practice of a local history buff, “The project also involved replacing the islands previous sewers with the superstructure of what would be hailed until the fifties as America’s most ambitious public water works system,”

“They don’t always map out to the streets above, and lot changes and modern foundation construction have made a bunch of overlaps and dead ends,” you shrug, “it's a labyrinth down there unless you’re next to where you’re going, or have a city worker or someone from the plumbers union as a guide,”

Clara nods, glancing down at the street appraisingly.

“That is, good to know,” she rocks back on the balls of her feet shoving hands into the pockets of her ripped jeans, “So, B&E a normal part of the job on your end?”

“It is under Ms. Lane,” Jimmy sighs and stops rooting through his bag, “Pry Bar it is for the nearest manhole then,”

“Lay of the land, Smallville. Its how I get some of the stories you’re a fan of,” you shrug and power through the street for the alleyway between your intended brownstone and the block of properties behind it, “Fortune favors the brave, sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty, dig for hidden truths, etcetera etcetera,”
>>
>>4429421
“Those old manholes though,” Jimmy seems crestfallen as he offers complaint falling in step into the alleyway as you find your undercity point of access, “they’re just so heavy,”

Clara continues to look down at the street in thought, even after following the two of you into the alley. Probably nervous about your going above and beyond attracting the wrong kind of attention. Seemingly satisfied that no police are looking directly at you she follows suit into the alley; again sparing the building another frowning glance over the rim of her glasses.

“Well, I’ve chucked plenty of hay in my time,” Clara offers the sleight built photojournalist, “Lemme give you a hand then,”

Jimmy of course accepts the offer of help, getting the prybar in place and then setting up to throw his weight against it with both arms. Clara stops him.

“Let’s do this smarter,” she offers with an arm placed suddenly across Jimmy’s shoulder as she places a foot onto the short pry, gesturing with her other arm low, “Maximize both our weights on this lever,”

There is a confused beat as your former intern sputters in confusion before realizing the scheme. Looping his arms around Clara’s neck, and swinging his legs up into her waiting arm, Clarabelle Kent stands with Jimmy in a bridal carry before shifting their weight off of their back foot and stands on the prybar alone with the other.

They sink, readily as the cover pops up. With a twist of her waist, the pry bar swivels on it’s balance enough to force the manhole cover aside and out of the depression it’s been raised from. Setting Jimmy down the two of them glide it far enough to the side to clear the path for all of you down the metal ladder rungs below.

As the three of you descend, none of you see the black town car pull to a stop at the corner. None of you take any special notice of the woman who steps out of the car in understated black clothing and shock red hair. Whisper A’Daire is joined by a handful of large yet discretely suited professional goons.

Jimmy’s sense of preparedness included two red lensed flashlights, small handheld LED affairs with adjustable heads for diffusion. He had a more standard maglight in tow, but time and experience with you had rendered him with the knowledge to not utilize it just yet for sake of preserving natural adjustments of night vision.

This manhole ladder descends a fair distance into the curving turn of the century brickwork arches, shored up and supported by more modern superstructure components laid in the last thirty years, the last vestiges of Metropolis’s once advanced for the era Gaslamp Past before Tesla and Edison brought another stage of their Current War to the City of Tomorrow.

It’s like stepping into another world, as the ladder becomes a freestanding bridge between the top of this artificial cavern and the open manhole of a forgotten thoroughfare into the more recently updated sewers below.
>>
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>>4429424

This is a hidden world known only to a guildhouse of tightly knit brothers and sisters of the city’s myriad duct, electrical, plumbing, inspection, and public utility works. Occasionally the city itself sticks a gopro on the head of a utility vet to make fun videos for the kids, and a section near Metropolis University is open for Guided Tours...but the rest of this catacomb is a mystery.

At least here, you’re looking at the original first level and partial foundation to the brownstone above. And there is a chain locked pair of handled double doors before you up a short climb of stairs. Graffiti spread across the doors reading “"Cei-U". Between the three of you, and the positively ancient rust of the chains you snap and find behind the free swinging old doors a deployable ramp and metal segmented garage wall. Beyond these easily opened and only moderately rusted barriers you find a once forgotten foyer converted into an equally forgotten garage and gym space. Dust coats every surface, as free weights sit and a lazy heavy bag drifts to the rhythm and bustle of the city above.

Front and center of the converted garage space is long untouched dust covered old motorcycle from the forties, the frame of the headlamps and the wind guard stylized like the face and whiskers of some predatory cat.

“Holy Cats! A cat bike?” questions Jimmy.

You’re inside, before Intergang Goons interrupt you, from here you’ll...
>Search this mysteriously sub basement level
>Head a level down and search the original basement
>Head a level up and search the more recent basement
>Head back out to search other subterranean entrances
>Write in

What is waiting for you here besides errant and strange clues?
>just the clues you find...
>the Presence of an unbound specter
>electricity in the air; drawn for now to Jimmy’s aesthetic
>a beacon, in green flame, a message left for the extraordinary
>a fateful encounter
>>
>>4429428
>>Search this mysteriously sub basement level
>the Presence of an unbound specter
>>
>>4429428
>>Head a level down and search the original basement
>>a beacon, in green flame, a message left for the extraordinary
>>
>>4429428
>>Head a level down and search the original basement
>>a beacon, in green flame, a message left for the extraordinary
>>
>>4429428
>Search this mysteriously sub basement level
>just the clues you find...
>a beacon, in green flame, a message left for the extraordinary
>>
>>4429428
>>Head a level down and search the original basement
>>a beacon, in green flame, a message left for the extraordinary
>>
>>4429428
>>Search this mysteriously sub basement level
>>a fateful encounter
>>
Well, I'm writing ahead of tomorrow so this dead heat means we're scoobing this part up at least.

Rolling Lois's Investigate a Mystery for this space.
>>
Rolled 4, 3 + 2 = 9 (2d6 + 2)

>>4429949
I SAID ROLLING LOIS
>>
Rolled 1, 2 = 3 (2d6)

>>4429953

Alright a 9, you may pose 1 question for Lois relevant to the situation's list beyond what you're getting in basic flavor text.
>What happened here?
>What sort of person does...this?
>What was the person who operated here going to do?
>What is being concealed here?

Now let me roll Clara's Protect someone at 2d6+??? as she and Jimmy splinter off.
>>
Alright. The questions will be answered in the update after this upcoming update as I'm writing up a storm presently.
>>
Rolled 6, 6 + 2 = 14 (2d6 + 2)

Act Under Pressure
>>
>>4429958
>>What was the person who operated here going to do?
>>
>>4429958
>>What is being concealed here?
>>
Parsing through the space, you observe the livery on and hanging above some of the exercise equipment, ‘Grant’s Gym,’. The bike itself, after quick comparative search on your phone, is a heavily modified 1928 Indian 402. You’re not a gearhead but you imagine with the number of pictures Jimmy is taking he’ll manage.

“Alright, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and I wasn’t expecting this,” you explain with some authority, “Clara, you and Jimmy take a look in the original basement down those stairs at the back. I’ll sweep up here and then we’ll take care of the rest of the place together,”

“Sure. No problem,” Clara puffs her cheeks and takes a broad gander around the room and frowns again, pausing to tear a bit of peeling paint off of a nearby wall and crumbling it in her fingers before seeming confused yet somehow satisfied with what she’s found before slipping into the hint of drawl you’ve noticed with her, “Old as this place is I reckon this is lead paint or something. We should probably have masks,”

“I’ve got bandanas that’ll do in a pinch!” Jimmy offers and passes some to you and Clara before affixing his own.

Clara tightly smiles and looks down at the cloth and nods. Proffering an uncertain and perhaps aloof thanks to Jimmy she double wraps her lower face and chin while you do likewise.

“See you guys in a few,” they descend with one of Jimmy’s lights while you take the other.

There isn’t much here, in all honesty. Free weights, used and back up heavy and speed bags, boxing gloves. All of it still bears the ‘Grant’s Gym’ designation. Pegboards with maps of multiple cities...faded newspaper clippings. An investigation. Its old and dust covered as the disparate pieces hang over a workbench in the more garage partitioned section of the space, along with keys for the old bike. You read what’s still legible and even find a few faded graphite notes that you’re still trying to parse when you notice it on the workbench stool.

A small old rusted railroad lantern, sitting on the chair of this would be snoop from another time.

As you’re drawn to it, you noticed the outline of something beneath it in the dust. Lifting it, to find it weighs an inconvenient amount, there is a mostly dustless photo underneath.

Four people look back at you in the faded grey picture, maybe from the early forties if the different and older bike of the same theming is any indication.

(keep voting on that Investigate a mystery until tomorrow friends)
>>
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>>4430048
A tall fair haired man in an oddly adorned double breasted shirt and high collared...cape? Carrying a larger lantern than the one you hold on a ringed hand. The ring seems to be the cause of a slight flare to the picture.

A tall woman wearing an armored bodice and leather skirt, the motif of an eagle and stars feature prominently on them respectively. A tiara holds back her densely curled hair, a lasso or whip rests on one hip while a sword adorns the other.

A with darker hair than the other stands smiling in a tight shirt with a broad lightning bolt pattern rising from the side of his waist to above his opposite breast. Smiling, he holds a broad flat helmet with wings on it under one arm.

The last man sits on the bike, cigar in his mouth and a cocky grin on his face with a black and white cat faced cowl pulled up and above his face. Clad in a black bodysuit with white wrapped wrists and shallow claws on his knuckles.

Flipping to the back in faded ink it’s written ‘Home sweet home with the gang, 1941,’

Your musings on what you’ve found are broken by the sound of shearing metal below and a cries from both Jimmy and Clara. Jimmy’s is an unintelligible scream, Clara’s is a word. No, it’s nonsense.

“[Babootch!]” though it has the cadence of a swear, quickly followed by a pained shout.

Clara Kent managed a Protect between 7-9 of Jimmy, and has taken the blow meant for him. However one of the tags reflects one of her Weaknesses and she takes 3 harm outright. So it just looks like a big sword fell on her and did what it would do to anyone else. What weakness? Why are we even having this discussion.

Pocketing the photo and racing downstairs, lantern still swinging in hand, your light shines on a room full of empty racks and display cases...save for a large statue of a knight that with a sword swing down and embedded into the cracked stones of the foundation.

Jimmy has hands on Clara trying to apply pressure to a large gash across her arm. Clara seems in this moment entirely in shock and disbelief at the dark liquid seeping between Jimmy’s fingers.

“Ms. Lane! There’s gause and disinfectant in my bag,” Jimmy calls out to you while Clara looks up pleading with worry.

Lois Lane ACTS UNDER PRESSURE flawlessly, 1 additional harm removed from Clara by way of first aid

“I leave you two alone for five minutes,” you’re angry the new girl got hurt on your watch, angry at yourself and frustrated as you set the lantern down and retrieve the tools requested.

Between the two of you proper first aid is applied and Clara’s wound is properly bandaged. Though you do ruin her flanel further by cutting part of her damaged sleeve off rather than even trying to roll it away from the wound before you can properly clean and apply a canister of Lex Med Dermoplast to help set things as best they can be without stitches. It’s a long cut, and it could have been deep. Luckily at least it was superficial.
>>
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>>4430059

Your legacy as an army brat strikes again, for the attention you paid to your father’s lessons in field medicine.

Clara Kent Harm reduced by 2 by first aid applied by Jimmy Olsen and practically perfect act of field medicine by Lois Lane

“I’m sorry Clara, hey, are you still with us,” Jimmy asks worriedly.

“Yeah...yeah...thank you...I just...” she mutters out, shaking herself out of the mental shock, “I saw the thing coming down on your head and I had to get you out of the way,”

“This thing?” you gesture over to the large Knight statue, “This swung on Jimmy?”

“Pressure plate, old gears were loose enough to still get the drop on us,” frowns Jimmy, “I’m sorry Clara, even with the Lex Med that’s probably gonna scar,”

She shrugs. Pauses to collect her thoughts, and tries to downplay things.

“I’ve gotten by on clearer skin from worse on the farm,” she offers, maybe not fully appreciating she got her arm sliced by a real ass goddamn sword, “Thank you Jimmy. Thank you Lois,”

“Hey, I save you after you saved my favorite photographer,” you pat her on the shoulder, “That makes us square, and friends if you aren’t put off by my methods,”

“Oh no, I think I’ll get the taste for this part of the work yet,” she offers a smile and flexes her hand a bit.

“Don’t push it, we don’t want anything peeling off the bonding agent yet,” you scold, “Try to take it easy from here on out, okay Clara?”

“Yeah. I think I can manage that,” she offers you a genuine smile, despite her blood everywhere on her, you, and Jimmy.

“Here, lemme help you up,” Jimmy offers and then helping her steady herself for the momentary loss of blood reaches with his free hand for his bag on the table.


Jimmy bumps into that rusted old railroad lantern where you left it. In quick reflex Clara grabs it with her uninjured hand.

“Careful,” she explains setting it back down on the table lightly and unbothered, “I doubt we want to draw anymore attention to ourselves than we already have,”


The three of you start to make your way back to the stars up to the garage and personal gym space of a bygone era, though before you have the chance to get much if any distance the room is bathed in flickering green light. Through the cracks in the rusted lantern bands of light fill the room, and from it’s conical hood you see the sparking free floating Green Flame swirling and then floating atop no discernible wick or fuel.
>>
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>>4430064
It projects out a range of light, that bathes the walls in compressed flickering fractals while standing there, hand on the back of a chair near a table which disappears into a nearby wall is a well appointed man in an anachronistic style of suit, the kind of proto modern fair of the late fifties or early sixties. All freestanding in color and cast of the green flame. You recognize him as one of the men in the photograph, though perhaps years older. The light feels hot, uncomfortably hot as you step out of the beams and into the dark beside it, as do Jimmy and Clara after being visibly caught in the same phenomenon. Wouldn’t take very long for that to burn or scald.

“Whoa,” Jimmy yelps in surprise before in his composure parsing out what he’s seeing, “Wow, what a projector!”

The man looks forward mournfully, looks down at a ring on his hand, and then looks up toward the lantern projecting his image.

“This is one of several messages stored in this imprint. If you’ve found it, you’re someone special. Either you’ve got the potential to do amazing things, are capable in and of yourself of the impossible, possess something that can do the impossible with a certain intent, or the flame recognizes something in you...my name is Allan Scott,” the emerald phantom says as he spins the chair to face away from the table and takes a seat to look in the direction of the lantern.

“What is happening?!” Clara asks with an incredible uncertainty as she rubs her injured arm with an unexpected worry.

Clarabelle Kent’s WEAKNESS to MAGIC applied again, she is aware that the heat of the light could harm her and she finds that unnerving.

“You may know me as the President of the Gotham Broadcasting Company, formerly Apex, and CEO & Founder of Scott Telecommunications...and I’m tired. Since the hearings I’ve tried to play by their rules, I stopped using the ring and it’s powers, and I walked away from it. I did it to keep the people I love safe and because I honestly believed our galavanting masquerade in the shadows was doing more harm than good. I bought into Senator McCarthy's notion that we were escalating things just by existing, and needed to be accountable to the government or stay out of the way. I stayed out of the way,” he sighs deeply, his shoulders drop and he looks so tired, “Rex didn’t keep his head down, he couldn’t tow that line. I don’t know if it’s because he was addicted to ‘The Life,’, addicted to his damn Miraculo, or if he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t do something. He died last night in Gotham, he ran from them for ten goddamn years without backing down and his hour ran dry mid chase,”
>>
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>>4430067
You’re taking notes and recording the whole thing. You know exactly who Alan Scott is. As a media mogul he was an outspoken critic of McCarthy era politics until he disappeared in the early sixties. No trace beyond his will, explicitly changed before witnesses and with a video recording at his behest. One of the great modern mysteries, the question of what happened to Gotham’s shining beacon before the city turned into what it is today. He holds his head in his hands, then raises them to smooth out his hair.

“I know the story, I run the paper and the broadcast company, they couldn’t get their censors to stop me just from knowing. He fell, and I can see from the pictures that even after the railing broke and they were in the air, he was reaching for the men who were trying to arrest him for helping people,” his fists ball up, the emerald fire flickers with remembered rage and then calms into a baleful sorrow and regret that you can feel pervade the room, “I could have caught them all, it didn’t have to be this way...but Argent is watching, Faraday is watching for any sign of us...making plans and paper clipping our old rogues,”

The projection of Alan Scott rises, and approaches the wrought iron lantern. Jimmy’s been snapping a few pictures for good measure, his old flashbulb causing the green light to distort slightly before it snaps back into place.

“Everything we did, everything we fought for...I want to do good. I want to do right. I can’t do that here anymore. If you’re finding this. Don’t let them hold you down. Don’t let THEM hold you back. You use what you’ve found, what you are, or what you can do to help people. You do it to protect people. Show the people a world of wonders we didn’t. Maybe if we stepped fully into the light things would have been different, but we didn’t and now if I’m going to help anyone I have to go,” he straightens up to his prodigious height, and speaks sternly, “I’ll protect the world from beyond if I have to, through the Starheart I’ve heard a voice. It beckons the Lantern far away, welcoming it. For now I’ll search that out, with it in hand I won’t have to worry about recharging out there in the black. Maybe even pluck Grundy out of orbit so I can have the company and he can’t cause anyone else trouble,”

You are very confused, but this is going to net you some entirely useful and worthwhile information.

“Take care, and save the world,” he smiles and reaches his hand into the lantern, phantom memories of green flame shooting from his ring into the iron as he reaches past it with his other hand and holds up a larger and solid looking one cast the same light as the rest of this phantasmagoria.

“What is happening?!” Jimmy cries out in a mix of joy and fear, “Ms. Lane, this is big. We gotta get to that microfilm!”
>>
>>4430070
You agree, but not before finishing things here. Who knows what else you’ll find inside this pla-

“Sorry, darlings,” a voice calls from the top of the stairs who you recognize for her crimson hair and unfurling whip as Whisper A’Daire, “I’m afraid you won’t be making it to any libraries today, tomorrow, or ever Ms. Lane, Ms. Kent,”

“I told Perry the Intergang stories would follow us up,” you frown.

Behind the whisper are two burly goons with extended batons. They hold the stairs. There are two other interior doors in this emptied round tabled room. There is a door that looks to go up to lead to exterior stairs to the undercity street. You’ve no idea how any of them are barred if at all. Jimmy looks tense, Clara looks angry.

Lois what do you do?
>Try and fast talk Whisper into letting you go
>Try to fast talk Whisper to distract for the others
>Try and flee door A with Clara and Jimmy
>Try and flee door B with Clara and Jimmy
>Try and flee exterior basement Door with Clara and Jimmy
>Try and force your way, knock them off the stairs
>Should scatter
>Write in
>>
>>4430072
>>Try to fast talk Whisper to distract for the others
>>
Rolled 6, 6 = 12 (2d6)

>>4429958
>What sort of person does...this?
>>
>>4429958
>>What is being concealed here?
>>4430072
>>Try and fast talk Whisper into letting you go
>>Try to fast talk Whisper to distract for the others
Letting us go isn't likely, but makes a good topic of distraction.
>>
>>4429958
>What was the person who operated here going to do?

>>4430072
>Try and flee door A with Clara and Jimmy
>>
Also, general query of feedback; what do you guys think of this quest so far? How’re you enjoying it? And any comments on this version of a DC Earth being set up? How do you like being Lois in this quest? Critique, comments, presentation?

Also, please feel free to ad-lib how you’d like to try and distract whisper since that seems to have traction.
>>
>>4430089
+1
>>
>>4430072
>Try and fast talk Whisper into letting you go
>>
>>4429958
>>What was the person who operated here going to do?
>>4430072
>>Try and flee exterior basement Door with Clara and Jimmy

>>4430136
my knowledge of DC is very limited, I have little idea what is going on and how it is different from normal
>>
Rolled 2, 4 + 2 = 8 (2d6 + 2)

Rolling [b]Manipulate Someone[/b] Against Whisper D'Aire.

And adding the answer to the question "What was the person who operated here going to do?" to the next update.
>>
Rolled 6, 6 = 12 (2d6)

Clara acting under pressure with a +???
>>
[b]What was the person who operated here going to do?[/b]
From the pegboards and personal notes present you deduced that the person who used this space, probably the man pictured with the cat cowl in the photograph, was initially tracking illegal fight rings but also a different investigation. It looked like a manhunt over the course of a decade, notes searching for The Yellow Wasp. Articles about the kidnapping of a kid named Jake Grant, son of heavyweight boxing champion Ted Grant. You’d bet that the man in the cat suit is Ted Grant, you are able to confirm that because pictures of the former champ still exist online. He was gearing up to go after the man who kidnapped his son, sometime the last updates and notes leading to Hub City sometime in the 1960’s.

[b]Manipulate Someone: 8[/b] You’re asking Whisper what it’ll take to let you go as a distraction for Jimmy and Clara. On a 7-9 they’ll do it, but only if you do something for them right now to show that you mean it. If you asked too much, they’ll tell you what, if anything, it would take for them to do it. Not that you have any intention of it.

You glance over at Jimmy and Clara behind you, the nervousness of your photographer and the usual unreadable expression of your new coworker and back at whisper and her goons. They’ve come down here armed for a beat down and not a shoot out by the look of things...they might not want a murder on their hands, especially one as high profile as your’s. Especially after the inexplicable attack on the SubOrbital plane. You hope.

What you need is to distract them from the other two, considering how Clara is injured. You drop to a resigned body language and begin sweeping wide toward the stairs away from Jimmy and Clara, keeping their attention.

“Well, you’ve got me dead to rights,” you sigh and lay you hands on your hips, “Yet for all the gear I know Intergang has now I’m surprised you didn’t just lob a grenade in here with us or cut us down with something automatic,”

“Hmmm,” Whisper hums to herself while pulling the end of the whip taught in her other hand as she descends a few stairs, “I’m much more about the personal touch Ms. Lane, it won’t do for you to spend too much of what time you have left trying to be clever,”

[b]Clara Kent gets 12+ Act under Pressure. She accomplished her goal of getting her and Jimmy out unnoticed AND managed to do something to leave some confusion in the wake of their leaving[/b]

“Say I wanted to be clever, Whisper A’Daire,” you say nonchalantly, “Say I wanted to play ball instead of being a thorn in your side. Would that be something worth my life?”

She pauses, looking down her nose at you in superiority. Letting go of the end of her whip she cracks it out to the side off the stairs into the open space of the room.
>>
>>4430434

“Oh, this is a tempting offer...but I’m not sure its worth as much as the damage already done,” she muses to herself before she puts her best foot forward, “But maybe if you beg for it, I’ll begin to consider it at least in the long term. Not that you won’t suffer, and not that I can say the same for the blon-”

Whisper pauses. You pause. The two of you notice that Jimmy and Clara aren’t in the room anymore. More than that, all three doors out of the room hang quietly open.

“DAMNIT! YOU, DOUBLE BACK OUTSIDE! AND YOU, CHECK THE ROOMS!” Whisper roars over the reveal of the subterfuge, “I’ll deal with Lane,”

One of the goons begins to barrel down the stairs while the other heads back up through the gym and garage of the long absent Ted Grant. Whisper stares at you humorlessly with a frustrated sadism.

[b]Lois Lane, what do you do?[/b]
>Try to book it for the exterior basement door
>Try to run for Room A
>Try to run for Room B
>Try and stop the Goon coming down the stairs
>Try to take on Whisper A’Daire head on
>There was one trap, are there others? Try to use the room?
>Write in
>>
>>4430436
>>There was one trap, are there others? Try to use the room?
>>
>>4430436
>>There was one trap, are there others? Try to use the room?
>>Write in
Besides trying to head into more traps, there's the one we know of, Whisper has no idead how wicked sharp that sword is, get her to whip toward that and she might come away with a shorter weapon.
Last minute dodge or trick, whichever is better chance, and move toward possible other traps/dangers.
>>
>>4430436
>>There was one trap, are there others? Try to use the room?
>>
>>4430436
I’ll back >>4430452
>>
>>4430436
>>There was one trap, are there others? Try to use the room?
>>
Rolled 5, 6 + 1 = 12 (2d6 + 1)

Acting Under Pressure
>>
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Act Under Pressure: 12 Try to use the room.

You let the goon rush past for the door into another room of this sub basement level. As Whisper descends the stairs, lit from lights you didn’t know could be activated from the room above, she casually grabs a large lever and extremely old lights above flicker and spark. Finally getting a good view of the room, you see besides the empty armory racks and the statues (there’s a second one that if it’s trapped hasn’t been tripped yet!) On some walls are assorted crates and in the room’s center is the table you had sat the lantern on.

Though no chairs surround it, it is covered with a rough drop cloth that seems to have partially pulled away from Jimmy’s earlier accident with the old lantern. While you back away toward the space in front of the likely trapped statue, Whisper spins her unfurled whip with a flagrant display of skill and intimidation. It cracks in the air as you pull the drop cloth off the table, seeing a massive emblem and writing adorning it and claiming the name ‘Justice Society of America,’.

Twisting the cloth with a flourish of your own, you try to use it as a shield and a misdirect as you position yourself near where you’ll need to jump to clear where you suspect the pressure plate to be. Whisper pays no mind to the nature of the other statue or what warming the floor embedded sword should warrant.

She whips at you, and as you prepare you leap back and flatten yourselves against the crates beyond the reach of her weapon. The Intergang assassin progresses forward with glee in her eyes as she raises her hand and draws her whip back.

Before she can snap it again there is a click. Her foot sinks in the ground an inch as the sword held aloft above falls to the sound of shearing metal and wrenching gears. In shock, Whisper doesn’t have the chance to move.

Whisper D’Aire takes 3 harm from that real ass big goddamn magic sword

Raising the whip to try and block with the handle on reflex, futile this act may be, Whisper finds her weapon sundered and a massive gash down her arm and hip as she tries to twist out of the way against uneven footing.

Stumbling back, she looks at you with malice as she bleeds. There remains plenty of fight in her, to your worry, as she takes stock of the room, and reaches for the one weapon immediately accessible. Her hand snaking out for the handle of the rusted lantern still on the table.

What did that projection say about intent?

Somewhere outside, you hear the sound of brick and stone shattering. It doesn’t yet clock to you as important.

Lois Lane, what will you do?!
>While Whisper is off balance, flee out the basement access door
>While Whisper is off balance, flee out the door w/out Goon, door B
>Warn Whisper against grabbing the lantern
>Try to stop Whisper from grabbing the lantern
>Maybe it’s the adrenaline talking, but you’ll fight her!
>Grab the Lantern before she can
>Write in
>>
>>4430986
>>Grab the Lantern before she can
>>
>>4430986
>>Grab the Lantern before she can
>>
This is an overnight vote as I'm dead on my feet.
>>
>>4430986
>>Warn Whisper against grabbing the lantern
I wouldn't do that if I were you.
>>
>>4430986
>>While Whisper is off balance, flee out the door w/out Goon, door B
>>
>>4430986
>>Grab the Lantern before she can
>>
Rolled 3, 3 + 1 = 7 (2d6 + 1)

Lois Lane rolling to protect Whisper A’Daire from forces beyond her understanding and Grab the Lantern.
>>
Rolled 2, 1 = 3 (2d6)

Rolling someone else’s protect in reaction to things unfolding with a +???
>>
[b]Lois Lane uses Protect Someone. Success at a 7: you protect them okay but you’ll suffer some or all of the harm they were going to get[/b]

“Don’t!” you shout in warning while the rest of you is already in motion.

A hair’s breadth quicker than Whisper can reach, you throw the twisted drop cloth from the table over the lantern just before her fingertips brush the handle. Looped around the lantern, it again floods the room with partitioned streams of green light through breaks in the rust. Pulling it toward you as from the conical hood a phantom arm reaches out from the green flame now burning anew within. More solid and somehow stable than the earlier projection you witnessed, it leads from a manifesting armored torso.

Whisper stumbles back, shocked and not expecting this as the emerging figure casts a heat about the room in emerald flame. Reaching for a sword at it’s hip the now visibly hollow armored construct swipes the blade that seems more projection that real like it forward, though from how you’ve pulled and turned it in its initial direction toward whisper, the phantom blade of emerald fire passes through you instead.

You are immediately aware of how much it could have hurt, and how the edges of the drop cloth that was caught in its path are burned.

[b]You take no harm of the possible 3 you could have because of a tag left on this defense to avoid friendly fire[/b]

The warm lantern drops into your hands as you release the burning cloth to the stone floor. Whisper D’Aire looks in confusion and frustration, falling for cover beside the table and while still bleeding reaching for something in her boot. While in your arms the fire in the lantern shrinks down again as the armor vanishes and dissipates.

From her boot, Whisper draws a small gun and takes aim.

Time slows down. You brace for the sting of a bullet. The voice of your father speaking slow and measured in your memory as he taught you and Lucy how to shoot as girls. How he described the times he himself had been shot. How one felt against the vest, and how another felt against and beneath his skin.

Despite the dangers of your line of work you don’t casually wear a bulletproof vest. Terrifyingly close, in this small room with your assassin, she leans across the table and uses it to balance her shot against the shakiness of her blood loss. You hear it, simultaneous with a displacement rush of air blowing your hair back while your eyes screw closed.

Two more follow in rapid succession and you feel nothing. Opening your eyes, clutching the lantern to your chest, you look forward and find there is something between you and Whisper.
>>
>>4432159
She’s smug, this blonde woman before you with an arm outstretched. Iridescent blue eyes shine with open and defiant confidence. Though they tick in uncertainty. Is it in reaction to the fear and shock still on your face. Last time you looked at those eyes you remember a distance of at least ten feet and plexiglass capable of heat shielding against planetary reentry.

Now they are right in front of you.

[b]Superwoman Protects. Superwoman ignores normal ballistics harm[/b]

“You needn’t be afraid of me,” she offers while withdrawing her hand after searching for the words in an uncertain beat, “I won’t harm you,”

The gunshot sounds again, and the Superwoman unphased turns and faces the Intergang Assassin with her full height, shoulders squared. With another shot fired you hear something hit the stone floor with a clink. Glancing down you see a number of flattened slugs or metal resting on the floor at the Superwoman’s feet.

There is an odd sound, a parabolic ripling as from behind the miraculous figure you see heat shimmer above her head while Whisper’s small gun suddenly glows red hot. She drops it with a surprised gasp.

“They ain’t here boss!” the professional goon returns from the room he had searched and sees the harm rendered to his superior and the new presence in the room, “BOSS!?”

“Get her!” Whisper roars as she staggers toward the door.

The goon runs up on the jacketed hero swinging the extendable baton. You watch it bend across her neck and shoulder from behind as she doesn’t even flinch.

“My turn,” her voice takes has a lyracle sing-song quality.

[b]Lois Lane, what do you do?[/b]
>You can’t let Whisper D’Aire escape! After her!
>Time to go, run up the stairs!
>Clock the Goon with the Lantern and tell the Superwoman to go after Whisper
>Stay where you are, record this with your phone
>Just...just watch this in utter shock.
>Write in
>>
>>4432168
>>Clock the Goon with the Lantern and tell the Superwoman to go after Whisper
>>
>>4432168
>>Clock the Goon with the Lantern and tell the Superwoman to go after Whisper
>>
>>4432168
>>You can’t let Whisper D’Aire escape! After her!
>>
>>4432168
>>Clock the Goon with the Lantern and tell the Superwoman to go after Whisper
>>
>>4432168
>>You can’t let Whisper D’Aire escape! After her!
Lack of self-preservation, go!
>>
Rolled 2, 4 + 1 = 7 (2d6 + 1)

Well now, looks like it's time to kick some ass!
>>
As much as you want to see what happens next, you need to act. The Intergang goon drops the bent baton with a clatter as they grab hold of their arm. Seems they hurt themselves in trying to take down your rescuer. Whisper is getting away but you aren’t sure you’d be able to catch up to her the way things are...so you do what you can to free up someone who more than stands a chance.

Darting low around the Superwoman, as she cracks her knuckles theatrically, you swing up with the lantern and crack it into the man’s head.

Lois Lane uses KICK SOME ASS, with a 7 you inflict harm on(and suffer harm from) whatever you’re fighting, on a 10+ you could do other things. So you deal sufficient harm to lay a man out and take 1 harm yourself

Lois Lane currently has 3 Harm. You’re okay, just a little roughed up, but 1 more harm and you approach into Unstable

The lantern gongs, and you ring his bell. Reverberations shake up your arm roughly and you think you may have over extended your arm as he slumps against the table. Ragged with breath while the now dented lantern hangs on its handle in your hands you turn to the now shocked and wide eyed Superwoman.

“Whisper A’Daire is the important one!” you breath out and point at the now open door to exterior stairs swinging in Whisper’s wake, “You can’t let her get away,”

She looks down at the knocked out thug.

“Well okay then, are you always this driven in the middle of your own rescue?” she quips with a smile before rushing for the door gaining impossible speed.

Did she just? Whatever. Just, you’re worn out and this has already been a hell of a day. You could either continue searching this place on your own or try to find the others. And what about this lantern? You need someone to take a look at it...it's gotta be some kind of holographic projector, you remember your dad talking about hard light technology not being viable for decades when you were a kid while ranting about work...when you were a kid. And you still don’t know enough to start this article yet about who has been actively suppressing the Super human but you know where you’ll start looking.
>>
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>>4432787

Lois Lane, what comes next?
>Go back to snooping the brownstone, alone
>This has been rough, it’s time to go & find the others
>Follow the Superwoman, see what happens to Whisper A’Daire
>Write in

Lois Lane, what is the next step of this investigation? What lead do you want to follow?
>You’ll reach out to a government contact about Argent & a man named Faraday
>You’ll bring the rusted lantern to your contact at Star Labs; Doctor Emil Hamilton
>Ugh...you’ll bring the rusted lantern to your ex, call in one of the favors Lex Luthor owes you
>See what you can find out about the Jake Grant case and this cat dressed Ted Grant
>You know some people at GBC, see what you can find out about Alan Scott
>Time for some nice, safe, and boring microfilm research at Metropolis U.
>Try to write the article with what you have, even through its a story unfolding, while keeping the juicier leads to yourself to follow later
>Write in


Also, art commissioned through this artist who requested a their credit on this share even when I said I was tossing this up on the chan./JRBrabson on the book of faces, 4chan won't let me post a direct link
>>
>>4432796
>>Follow the Superwoman, see what happens to Whisper A’Daire

>Lois Lane, what is the next step of this investigation? What lead do you want to follow?
>>See what you can find out about the Jake Grant case and this cat dressed Ted Grant
See if we can find clues about him following up on the mystery he was following.
>>Write in
See who, if anyone owns this brownstone.
Besides clues, maybe with the records wiped it can be secured? Maybe not our style, but maybe farm girl or Jimmy wouldn't mind the commute..
>>
>>4432796
>>Follow the Superwoman, see what happens to Whisper A’Daire
>>You know some people at GBC, see what you can find out about Alan Scott
As tempted as I am by both Starheart shenanigans with Hamilton, and Ted's Tedness... Alan Scott. Can't not.
>>
Figure Lois should send Jimmy to check through GBC records for any other clues, while following up on some other lead as voted for, where he most certainly won't get into any other trouble while in Gotham.
>>
>>4432796
>This has been rough, it’s time to go & find the others
>See what you can find out about the Jake Grant case and this cat dressed Ted Grant
>>4432966
I like this idea
>>
>>4432796
>>This has been rough, it’s time to go & find the others
>Time for some nice, safe, and boring microfilm research at Metropolis U.
>>
>>4432796
>>Go back to snooping the brownstone, alone
>>Time for some nice, safe, and boring microfilm research at Metropolis U.
>>
I get home in about an hour and a half, then have D&D until 8 est. If I have to combine/reconcile all thats tied I will and it will be a glorious mess that I hope you enjoy.
>>
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>>4433688
>>combine/reconcile
>Let's split up gang!
Smallville farms the microfiche, Jimmy has an uneventful visit to GBC, and Lois tries to get a Grant.
Definitely no high-speed super-searching of microfilm allowing spare time and an alibi to run around in a different outfit, nor any batcarjacking going on, no siree..
>>
>>4433716
Normally, I would agree with this plan that definitely won't lead to hijinks, but it seems a bit foolish, IC, after just surviving an assassination attempt to split up.
>>
Racing after the Superwoman, you spare a last look at this place. You’ve found more than enough to go on...and you’ll have more questions about this building later, but for now you have got to see with your own eyes how a professional assassin like Whisper A’Daire fares against this woman of steel. Coursing up the steps to the exterior tunnel, you look up to see Whisper struggling to climb with one bleeding arm up the rungs of the utility access ladder.

The Superwoman follows behind her, floating at a relaxed pace in dead quiet. As with before, she smiles. Almost lackadaisical until she is evenly behind your attacker who has made it just bare inches before the freestanding vertical ladder joins the shaft to the surface.

With a gentle hand, Superwoman reaches out and taps Whisper a few times on the shoulder. The red headed assassin freezes in place, slowly turning as best her injuries allow to look over her shoulder.

“Hi, let’s take this outside,” the force of nature offers with a sweetness to her voice that belies the absolutely inhuman things you saw her do.

Grabbing Whisper by her somewhat armored vesting, the two become a blur of red, black, and blue, as they jet past you back into the foundation of the brownstone before the blur passes you again with more visible mass and up the shaft to the surface. You rise in a scramble to see Whisper and the Thug who you clocked join the one sent after Jimmy Olsen and Clara Kent. Each of them sit in their own metal trash can from the alleyway now set on the curb. The tops of the cans have been bent and twisted over their shoulders to hold them in place.

In the freestanding light of day, maybe because of the much lower temperature and focus work compared to the way she made Whispers gun red hot, twin beams of glowing red lance forth from her eyes and scorch broad writing into each trash can.

‘INTERGANG TRASH,’ reads the labeling with a sizzle when she finishes.

“You have no idea what you’ve done, Superbitch,” Whisper D’Aire growls in an act of ridiculously not intimidating posturing.

“I sure do,” she says matter of factly, “I’ve just taken out some murderous trash,”

“I’ll be back on the street in less than an hour!” she barks.

“Not without your judges you won’t,” you can’t help but say with certain satisfaction as you dust off your skirt while exiting the alleyway.

Sirens approach. And as both police cars and an ambulance turn the corner the Superwoman leads up with her fist and begins to fly away with a certain excitement to being seen. A wave to the gathered crowd of onlookers.
>>
>>4434894
Across the street you see Jimmy snapping away furiously at her departure before waving broadly toward you. The two of you are able to collect Clara who hid back in the alley after telling Jimmy to run and get help, that she would only manage to slow him down. With the trashcans gone by way of the Superwoman, there wasn’t much cover but you can see what she managed to pull off with a half alcove and a newspaper.


Metropolis Police Department try to make sense of the scene before them as you manage to wave them down and present some evidence of your attempted murder. Once again you’ve managed to become the story. A story. Whether you’ll write that one or leave it for someone else is yet to be decided.

Leaving your statement, conveniently leaving out parts about where it happened or your own stripe of breaking and entering, you manage to slip away losing only a copy micro sd card from your audio recorder of Whispers small threatening confessional.

Afterwards, now closer to lunch, the three of you plot your next moves.

“So, what lead should we follow?” Clara questions, rubbing her arm.

Both you and Clara are more than a little roughed up from the day’s experience. Though you have an idea.

“Well, we still have date ranges to check in the Microfilm archive...but I want to check them for a few more things. I found some clues about the owner of that Cat Bike that may be worth following up in the same way,” you reason, “Nice and low pressure busy work in a security monitored archival room at Metropolis University for the two of us,”

“I could stand with something lower pressure than,” Clara gestures broadly to the above ground exterior of the brownstone, “Just all of that,”

“Well, yeah, I agree a nice Microfilm dive would be absolutely relaxing,” Jimmy sighs and rolls his shoulders, “but what about all that stuff the recording of Mr. Scott said? Argent and Faraday?”

You look at Jimmy thoughtfully.

“Jimmy, I have some contacts at the GBC,” you say simply, “I want you to hop an afternoon ferry over to Bludhaven and then take the Shore line up to Gotham to meet with them and see what you can dig up about the disappearance of Alan Scott,”

“Wait, what?” Jimmy questions in uncertainty.

“You don’t have to worry about Intergang trying to track you down,” you offer with a hand on his shoulder, “a little distance from us should keep you safe,”

“Safe, in Gotham?” Jimmy gulps, “Ms. Lane, I haven’t even gotten my first full paycheck on the City Desk. I can’t just skip up and out to Gotham,”

“You have an expense card. Ferry, train, lunch, and a motel if you’re gonna be out there overnight. Don’t even have to get it in the city proper, I can text you a few outside of the city in Jersey proper if that’ll make you feel safer,” you rattle off and take off down the street while you take out your phone to start making calls.
>>
>>4434897
“...yes that would Ms. Lane,” Jimmy sighs, “Yes it would,”

“Alright...guess I’ll see you at the office tomorrow, Jimmy,” Clara offers the now befuddled Olsen.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Thanks again for knocking me out of the way of that sword,”

“Hey, you’re good people and I didn’t want to see your head bisected,” she offers with a smile and an adjustment of her glasses before she takes off down the street beside you, “So, what else are we looking for in the microfilm?”

“I found a few things up in that garage,” you explain, “We’re going to be looking for information on a former Heavyweight Boxing Champion, Ted Grant, and a kidnapping case involving his son,”

“Alright. Let’s get our research on!” Clara nods firmly as the two of you take the monorail toward Suicide Slum and Metropolis University.

Maybe stopping at a hotdog cart for a brief lunch on the move.

Having called ahead as a pair of Daily Planet employees, the two of you are allowed into the restoration project. Still carrying the rusted lanter, which you offer no explanation for, you head in and get sorted checking assorted dates. Splitting the work between the two of you, you read up on a few of the target dates from the worm and find a smattering of information about a HUAC hearing being held against a little known adventurers club of ‘Mystery Men’ and ‘Vigilantes’ whose name isn’t mentioned.

It is mentioned that members of this society showed up to the hearings masked and in costume. Unlike some of the other hearings where people were asked for names of communists, these seemed focused on demanding the members of this secret society unmask themselves and turn over particular resources or their own services to the government. Or to disband and cease their activities.

The second day of this hearing was held without a press present. Apparently a negotiation was taking place between representation for this secret society and government lawyers about the whole affair. Though between you and Clara, you find a photo from the first day where a number of participants are named...including a witness in the hearing. A Central Bureau of Intelligence Agent credited as King Faraday.

These figures...they had outlandish names. And, from what you witnessed of the rusty lantern sitting at the desk beside you, some of them wielded awesome power in some degree of secrecy.

There is a photo of the man with the winged helm, though his face is a blurry smear. He is credited only as The Flash of Keystone City.
>>
>>4434898
Apparently one member of the assembled society was dismissed from the proceedings despite ardently wishing to participate. The floor recognised her as Ambassador Diana of Paradise Island, noting as of now the committee had no questions or charges for her and thanked her for her past cooperation and service. Described in the bodice, tiara, and skirt you saw in the photo, she was apparently going to resist removal before a masked woman described as wearing a leather jacket and fishnets bid her to trust that they’d be alright.

Curiouser and curiouser. Neither are pictured.

The CBI to your knowledge is now a long defunct intelligence agency. With that and the full name of King Faraday as starting points you may be able to follow some leads and dig up exactly what Argent is...

Copying the necessary parts of the microfilm, you set Clara loose on looking up info online and cross referencing info to search for dates related to the Grant case. What she manages by the dates related to information that comes up referentially online comes at preternatural luck as she manages to pluck just the right rolls of microfilm out to scour through on the machine after carefully looking through the date listings and volume numbers.

It seems the case of Jake Grant wasn’t something that needed review or erasure by the worm online, so what she finds matches up with searchable digital records. Even more modern records as the kidnapping of Jake Grant is listed as an unsolved cold case. Surprisingly the gym Ted is credited with founding in the articles remains open today, in Gotham.

Shooting Jimmy a text you ask him to swing by the provided address for Grant’s Gym as well.

The whole of this process was a bit slow and arduous, as all research is time consuming as you and Clara start spitballing general thoughts on grabbing dinner afterwards while going over the prints you both made of your assorted articles and planned out the next move of this investigation. And indeed, while you work Perry texts you about your account of events in the sky over the bay as currently trending along with just the name of the Superwoman.

You have so many questions. And you express your frustrations surrounding them such as they are to Clara as you pack things in and leave Metropolis University.

Though amid it all you also shoot an inquiry to the hall of public records about the Brownstone. Maybe a confirmation on who owns it will help out? You don’t know.
>>
>>4434899

You’re haggard. You’re hurting. You need some actual volume of rest to go over all of this...but what if Intergang is watching your apartment? Can you risk it? What about Clara? She’s relatively new to the city and probably doesn’t have the stand out celebrity you do. While she’s good at blending in, that doesn’t discount someone finding their way to her place and trying to do her in.

Still, as deep as you’re getting into things...the mystery men angle is starting to wear thin. You need to find out something about Argent and the now named King Faraday. Not just about this mysterious Justice Society of America.

[b]It's getting late, Lois Lane. What do you do?[/b]
>You’re going back to your apartment, alone
>You’re going back to your apartment, invite Clara for safety
>Ask Clara if the two of you can keep the rest and research train going at her place?
>You’re taking this research train back to the Daily Planet for safety
>You and Clara are taking this research train back to the Daily Planet
>Write in

[b]As you part ways or continue working into the night together with Clara what do you want to chat about?[/b]
>Write in
>>
[b]Meanwhile that night in Gotham City[/b]

Jimmy Olsen climbs a fire escape a few hours after poking around at GBC, where he was shown a recording former President Scott had made before his disappearance. Apparently he wanted the rewriting of his will documented to show he was intentionally leaving things after his imminent disappearance or untimely demise before that. It involved sparsely answered questions to his staff and mostly his conversations with his lawyer. From it he had garnered a handful of names and terms…including that Molly Mane Scott, Alan’s wife, vanished with him.

One of the terms which caught Jimmy’s eye was a Trust for the care and upkeep of an owned penthouses in downtown Gotham. For the care, providence, and mental health of one Rose Canton and any subsequent descendents who proffer claim.

Unable to find an easy way past the building’ doorman, Jimmy had taken to climbing and staking out the penthouse from the adjacent rooftop. Settling into place in a proper alcove on the fire escape before reaching the rooftop, Jimmy would wait a few hours in the darkness to see nothing of note...that is until somewhere below was the sound of a pressurized canister blowing out it’s contents and a grappling hook whizzing past his open shutter.

Startled by a passing figure along a rapid ascent along the grappling hook’s line, who curled over the edge of the rooftop to be unseen with intent and speed, Jimmy scrambled in surprise still unseen himself until he fell off the edge of the fire escape.

Landing with a sputtering thud on a now rapidly deflating airbag, Jimmy found himself inside the closing cockpit of some kind of high tech vehicle or another with a dark canopy closing atop him with a gentle computerized voice saying “Collision Imminent, security breach detected,”

Phased and panicked by the experience, looking out the front of the vehicle as a number tuxedo t-shirt wearing men in bird masks pealed out of the dark, one tapping on a tablet a few times and laughing to himself as a pair of men landed a coiled copper device on the hood and two men struck it with sparking cattle prods. There is a hum, a whine, and a small explosion beyond the red tinted glass as most every monitor and light in the cockpit goes dark.

“Short range EMP test successful, let’s crack things open before his system reboots,” one says taking out a blow torch, “Boss wants a bug in here if we can’t just steal it outright,”

Jimmy looks out the window, notices the motifs on the interior of the vehicle that had just saved his life, and down at the keys in the ignition and a pull chain that is labeled as emergency manual start in a glow in the dark painted text. He pulls.

“Safer in Gotham,” he sighs to himself, “I need to stand up for myself more,”

The engine roars to life to the shock of the fanciful bird masked men and women in their tuxedo themed casual wear around the vehicle. Path clear, Jimmy Olsen drives into the night.
>>
>>4434901
>>Ask Clara if the two of you can keep the rest and research train going at her place?
>As you part ways or continue working into the night together with Clara what do you want to chat about?
>>What other publications she worked on before the Planet.
>>
>>4434902
Heh, better in Olsen's hands than in the hands of the Penguin's goons
What did you guys think about the new "The Batman" teaser?
>>
>>4434901
>>Ask Clara if the two of you can keep the rest and research train going at her place?
>So, how you enjoying your new job so far? Everything you hoped for?
>>
>>4434969
I’m about it. I’ll watch it. I like the car.
>>
>>4434901
>>Ask Clara if the two of you can keep the rest and research train going at her place?
>>
>>4434901
>>You’re going back to your apartment, invite Clara for safety
>>
>>4434901
>>You and Clara are taking this research train back to the Daily Planet
More workaholic slave-driving than safety, really.

>As you continue working into the night together with Clara what do you want to chat about?
What's her take on all this?
Story is sprawling a bit now, enough we can focus on different angles and not step on each others toes.
Calling dibs on Superwoman though.
>>
>>4434901
>You and Clara are taking this research train back to the Daily Planet
>>
Folding laundry, then counting.
>>
>Ask Clara if the two of you can keep the rest and research train going at her place? 3 Votes, Majority

Using all conversation fodder for chatting with Clara
>>
Rolled 6, 4 + 3 = 13 (2d6 + 3)

Investigate a mystery rolling! With a bonus to your roll from Clara helping.
>>
Rolled 6, 6 = 12 (2d6)

Oh, I should have rolled that help. This is +???
>>
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“Alright, I think we need to keep this research train going,” you hum to yourself patting the bag of printed folders and additional materials unearthed in your search.

“Find a coffee shop somewhere and burn the midnight oil?” Clara questions with a nod, “I’m absolutely down for that,”

“Not the best idea, Smallville,” you frown a bit and turn to face her, “That’s just inviting more Intergang attention with me in such a public space. We need somewhere less obvious,”

Clara considers a moment. Looking out across the Metropolis University Campus in thought.

“The Planet is very obvious, and if they know we’re there until this blows over people are liable to get hurt,” she considers further, “And you’re well known enough that they’ve probably got people watching your apartment,”

“Bingo,” you snap your fingers in praise of your new coworker, who you have in no small course been making earn her byline on this article, “Which leaves only one logical place to go in the city that’ll be reliably safe!”

Clara sighs.

“Without your relative local fame, and because I haven’t been here long the best place to lay low while we work…” she seems mildly unhappy saying it, “Is my place,”

“It’s safe, and if we’re there together there’s safety in numbers,” you offer her with sound reasoning and logic.

“I know, it’s just not in the safest part of town,” she shrugs, “And my landlord is a bit of a busy body,”

“Well, most landlords and supers on site are,” you shrug and defer your momentum to her, “lead on!”

True to form her apartment is in Suicide Slums, though further away from the university than your own. In fact she has a pretty good view of Hob’s Bay...from the west end. Coming to her apartment there’s an old pickup truck up on cinder blocks in front of the place...and you notice that despite all the things it’s been stripped of it still has it’s Kansas plates rather than that of the district. To your surprise her landlord, who acts as his own lobby man, is one of your informants.

“E’vning Kent,” local renaissance man of action, labor, and entirely reputable business Bibbo Bibbowski looks up from his copy of the Daily Planet, Superwoman emblazoned across the front page, “Read yer’ article on Intergang, great stuff. You’ll be squaring up ‘longside Ms. Lane in no ti-”

He pauses as you step out from behind the mildly embarrassed country girl. Seems she can sport emotions beyond aloofness and worry.

“Mr. Bibbowski, this is my coworker Lois, we’ll be doing some project work so I hope you’ll make sure anyone asking for me knows I’m not available,” she smiles, with a pleading sincerity.

“Sure...sure,” he nods and swings his rather distinct face over to you with a smile, “‘E’vning Ms. Lane,”
>>
>>4436010

“Evening Bibbo,” you wave off any curiosities he has, “Smallville here’s made a big splash so the chief has us teaming up to see if we can capsize the whole city,”

He nods and folds his paper.

“Now wouldn’t that be something,” he questions and then slaps the cover, “Something bigger than Supes?”

“Supes?” Clara questions.

“Yeah, folks ‘re calling Superwoman ‘Supes’ fer short. Y’know,” Bibbo gesticulate, “Anyway, I’ll make sure yer not disturbed. And if any punks comes ‘ere askin’ by name, well,”

He let’s the implied threat of violence against any who wished either of you harm hang in the air. Bibbo is a generally sweet and useful guy in that regard. Reliable of conscience and with an ear to the seedier streets.

Clara’s apartment manages to be even smaller than your’s. No small feat, mind you. Instead of a kitchenette she has a bit of counter space for a microwave and a hot plate.

“I’ll start on some coffee,” she says as she tries to lift her Murphy bed into the wall with her injured arm.

Not on your watch she isn’t. Setting the lantern down, you help her close it properly and with less stress to her laceration. Feeling it not catch cleanly to it’s locking mechanism you help shove it a few times against the wall for good measure.

“These things can be troublesome. I bought a real bed and only pull mine down for guests,” you offer her that small bit of useful advice, “Then again, I at least have the leg room for both,”

“Yeah...it’s all I could afford when I first got here. Mr. Bibbowski set me a good rate, even comped me a bit after my truck got put up on concrete,”

“Yeah, Bibbo’s a nice guy like that sometimes. Give him a month and he may shove the punks that stripped it in front of you, begging your forgiveness on their knees,” you shrug and pull over her small floor table and begin laying out the contents of articles and online materials you printed out over the course of your afternoon of research. Which did turn up an interesting term, at least in terms of the ‘mystery men’ and their hearing in regard to some of their capabilities. Not super...no you’ll leave that for the Superwoman. The broader term to be used here in official records was Meta.
>>
>>4436014

Investigate a Mystery 12+ means besides the two question from the list, you also get to ask the QM ONE question of your own concoction and consensus about the mystery not just from the presented list
>What happened in the fallout of the JSA’s HUAC hearing?
>What happened after Ted Grant found The Yellow Wasp?
>What happened to the Keystone City Flash?
>What sort of person is/was King Faraday
>Where did the Worm suppressing information on ‘metas’ come from?
>Where did King Farady go after the HUAC hearing and the closure of the CBI?
>Where did Ted Grant go after fading from public life?
>Where did Ambassador Diana of Paradise Island come from?
>What was the Justice Society of America, really?
>Are there other Supers, or rather ‘metas’ currently active besides the Superwoman?

Though as this information falls into place, over the course of several coffees and the span of hours in the dark, you spend a little time picking Clara’s brain in the sparse and small living space.

“So how’re you enjoying the new job so far, Smallville?” you question her over your first sip of...superbly good coffee, good enough to give you pause as the acidity and bitterness blend well despite her giving it to you at your request black, “Everything you hoped for?”

Taking her own mug in both hands and taking a drag as she sits next to you and momentarily curls into her oversized flannel overshirt.

“Actually...yeah. I came out to the city for a faster pace than back west and more of a taste of what I found abroad,” it’s earnest and truthful, perhaps even trusting.

“I’m getting to work with you,” she continues happily and then narrows her eyes at you momentarily, “That is assuming you aren’t going to edge me out of the byline?”

“We’ve both bled for this, Smallville,” you offer in placation, “I’m not cutting you out of this one. For the future though, expect me to offer no quarter and give no mercy,”

“Yeah, fully expected,” she laughs to herself a bit.

“This is a damn fine coffee though. What’s the secret here? And on an ‘I’m the new girl in town and my truck got robbed,’ budget?” you question with some feigned dubiousness.

“I used to work in a coffee shop back home in Kansas,” she shrugs, “While I was still in highschool. Grounds are local, from home and I’m just that good,”

“Well, if reporting doesn’t pan out there are ever more barista opportunities in the city these days,” you shrug, “So, as a reporter...what’s your take on all of this,”

She’s quiet for a moment. Looking down at all the paperwork and then over at the Lantern.

“I think there is more between heaven and earth than are dreamt of in common philosophy,” she says carefully, “I’ve seen a few things in my travels that given a deeper look might qualify under the HUAC’s assertion of ‘Metahuman,’ there…”
>>
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>>4436017

“Any examples you might want to share?” you question, with a complete and curious seriousness.

“Not without double checking them later,” she shrugs before becoming more serious, and taking on a reflective and introspective tone that you know only comes with hindsight, “but now, I figure with someone making as big a splash as the...Superwoman...maybe others are going to start coming out of the woodwork. And maybe that’ll be for weal or woe,”

“Escalation,” you nod, “We’ve had a Super Hero stop out and save the day...what if someone with that kind of power doesn’t want to help but hurt?”

“Then we pray to R- we pray that the Superwoman and the people she inspires can stand up to them?” she offers and then offers a more critical thought, “Or that the government is prepared for something like that happening?”

“So, it’ll only be a matter of time until we get a second Super Hero operating publicly out there or a Super Villain making their play against the world at large, their own gain, or just the new top of the food chain unless they want to work their way through the vigilantes and urban myths,” you reason coolly, “Could the Gotham Batman be one of these metas?”

“What about more local rumors, like what they’re saying on the street about the black lightning? Or the Gangbuster?” she offers and then questions carefully, perhaps probingly, “What if they aren’t all even human? Allan Scott was talking about the black, so space? What if his Lantern, the stuff he put in that lantern, came from space? Oh, hand me page 16 from volume 7,”

“A potential angle, but a theory best kept unless we actually get someone saying they’re a little green man,” you shrug as Clara sinks back a bit.

“Oh...okay,” she offers as the two of you double down into the work, coordinating.

“Things are sprawling now, we might be able to get half a dozen articles out of what we have so far. Probably more by the time we’re done. I’ll share the byline with you on the initial piece, but you’re absolutely welcome to take off a few on your own Smallville,”

“I appreciate your permission there, Lois,”

“Not a permission, it’s only fair,” you shrug, “Besides I even if we have enough to fill a whole week of papers, I can’t write that fast alone and this stuff needs to get out,”

“See, that’s why I’m a fan,” she chortles and flips through a few sheets.

“The Superwoman though,” you offer with a dedicated and targeted beat, “She’s mine,”

Clara chokes a bit on her coffee.

“She’s your’s?” she questions, choking on a drag of her coffee, wide eyed and with a confused tension.

“I want that story…” you muse, momentarily enthralled by the memory, “Smallville if only you’d seen her up close you’d know. There’s this aura of confidence, of arrogance, of untouchability, and something genuine and joyful in doing something good,”
>>
>>4436014
Your initial tend toward the distance and arrogant untouchability of the Superwoman gives Clara a momentary lilt to her expression before evening out more positively as you finish your diatribe...not that you really noticed. You weren’t paying attention to the country girl hipster so much as your own memory.

Arrogance, what is it with you and the arrogance of others?

“How’re you going to chase that story?” she wonders toward you.

“I have no idea,” you smile broadly, “but once I get my teeth in something I’m not one to give up,”

Work continues into the night. Oddly you get no check-ins from Jimmy. He may have stumbled onto something and decided it best to relay matters in person rather than over the phone or email. So work continues.

Meanwhile in Gotham

Jimmy Olsen screams, swinging the wheel wildly left and right within the Bat-mobile as he witnesses two entities that might be the Batman of Gotham grappling on the long hood of the still rocketing vehicle. One of them screams in barely audible clicks that can’t be heard but hurt the human eardrum all the same, as it tries to rise on leather wings and drag the other with them into uncertain doom.

Back in Metropolis

“Excuse me,” Clara looks out the window aimlessly in a dark hour amid the research as the two of you continue to collect your assorted findings and connections, “I need to step out and...smoke,”

“You should switch to vaping,” you barely look up at her as she collects herself and steps over to the door, “Easier to scale back and quit,”

As Clara leaves you…
>Keep working on the research, you’re into this deeply
>Realize it’s dangerous to go alone, follow her outside to keep her company
>Wait, you’re alone in your new co-worker’s apartment...time to snoop?
>Take a break yourself, pull down her murphy-bed and just rest your eyes.
>Try to call Jimmy, you worry about that boy.
>Write in

Art Commissioned from same artist as prior piece here >>4432796
>>
...shit I completely forgot to include dialogue about Clara's previous writing jobs.

Fuck me, sorry about that. Next update.
>>
>>4436017
>>Where did the Worm suppressing information on ‘metas’ come from?
>>Are there other Supers, or rather ‘metas’ currently active besides the Superwoman?
>>4436025
>>Wait, you’re alone in your new co-worker’s apartment...time to snoop?
>>
>>4436017
>Where did the Worm suppressing information on ‘metas’ come from?
When/how/who/etc. Someone launched a quiet technological cover up running possibly for decades that only recently fell behind the pace of cybersecurity.

>>Where did Ambassador Diana of Paradise Island come from?
Leads are going from rabbit hole to the whole warren, but the ambassador of what now?

>ONE question of your own concoction
So many vital and groundshaking avenues to explore.. but if we keep noticing the small size of apartments, I'm going to keep wondering about that brownstone that's been getting scrubbed from records..
>>
>>4436017
>>How does this all link back to Luthor?
>>Are there other Supers, or rather ‘metas’ currently active besides the Superwoman?
We know about that nutcase who dresses up like a bat.

>>4436025
>>Try to call Jimmy, you worry about that boy.
>>
>>4436252
Whoops, missed the last question.
>>4436025
>Try to call Jimmy, you worry about that boy. Maybe get in some casual snooping around the apartment during the call.
>>
>>4436017
>Where did the Worm suppressing information on ‘metas’ come from?
>Where did Ted Grant go after fading from public life?
>>
>>4436017
>>What happened in the fallout of the JSA’s HUAC hearing?
>>Where did the Worm suppressing information on ‘metas’ come from?
>>4436025
>>Keep working on the research, you’re into this deeply
Work needs doing.
>>
Counting. Writing tomorrow
>>
Rolled 2, 3 + 2 = 7 (2d6 + 2)

Combining call Jimmy and Snooping.
Investigating a mystery
If this roll is 7-9 choose 1 question. 10+ choose 2. 12+ you get to ask an unlisted question. On a 6, Lois Lans Marks Experience.
>What happened to Clara in Qurac?
>What sort of person is Clara?
>What is Clara capable of as a journalist?
>What can embarrass Smallville?
>What is Clara going to do?
>What is being concealed in the apt?
>What is Jimmy concealing?
>>
>>4437754
>>What can embarrass Smallville?
>>
>>4437754
>>What happened to Clara in Qurac?
>>
>>4437754
>>What is being concealed in the apt?
>>
>>4437754
>What is Clara capable of as a journalist?
*WE* Know the obvious, but I want to know the smaller details of Clara's character before we spread out to the elephant in the room.
>>
>>4437754
>>What is Clara capable of as a journalist?
>>
>>4437788
What’s the elephant in the room, anon?
>>
>>4437754
>What is Jimmy concealing?
We do worry about that boy.
Cough twice if Intergang has you, once if someone else has, three if you've been taken hostage..

Wait, am I really the only one that put in for the third question on the previous mystery? ..makes the concensus easier, but kinda disappointing..
>>
>>4437852
Happens.
>>
>>4437836
I don't know, but I'm sure everyone's journalists sixth sense is tingling.
Lane is a suspicious woman.
Great quest btw, it's been really nice so far. I just reread the classic that is Eclipse Moon and I'm happy to see you branching out. Wonder how long it'll take for Lane to join the homosexual underground. It's an inevitability I've resigned myself to. Until then I'll gladly enjoy this budding friendship between professionals.
>>
>>4437754
>What sort of person is Clara?
>>
>>4437937
Spoiler for a few threads in if Lois hasn’t figured one of several things out “Well the truth is Lois that I’m actually Superwoman in disguise; I only pretend to be a journalist to hear about disasters as they happen and squeeze you out of the byline,” “You’re a sick woman, Kent,” “You asked,”
>>
>>4437937
Also. Classic? Anon that is back and on the road to completion.
>>
>>4438056
Something which has this anon very happy!
>>
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Insert Dialogue that belongs above before Clara leaves for her...smoke

“So, where else have you been published?” You question your coworker and for now ally in the hunt for truth & justice.

“Kansas A&M Bulletin back in college, and then I submitted spot pieces wherever I traveled and got my teeth into something,” Clara explains succinctly, “Marias Weekly Echo, the now rubble Qurac Dawn, and a bunch of local dispatch news sites. The freelance web syndication grind,”

Where did the Worm suppressing information on ‘metas’ come from?

You’re able to determine from all the information amassed, between Clara clarifying some of the information from the initial Brilyant report and comparing to information between the lines from small bits of reporting form the first days of the Mystery Men hearing of the HUAC. Specifically Clara identifies the underlying base code of the Worm being in something called COBOL. One of the older versions of the code apparently from what she explains as the early sixties.

COBOL itself was one of the first computer languages adopted by the US Government from multiple departments for use in business systems and even hiring tracking up to today through the Department of Homeland Security. But that puts it after the dissolution of the Central Bureau of Intelligence. Buried in it all, as the two of you sort through the printed paperwork of the report, you find mention of Argent. This time the name crops up as you can make a few phone calls to learn that its another Government Agency, a secretive revamp of the CBI, that itself became defunct in the mid nineties.

Are there other Supers, or rather ‘metas’ currently active besides the Superwoman?

With a whole day without the Worm functioning, and with the cache of information on stuff it had been deleting, the two of you are able to find reposts of information spreading and get a base lead on a few other operational metahumans. Good and otherwise…

Another guardian angel operating in Central City in Ohio, described as a scarlet blurr. Affecting rescues and quick saves before being gone in a flash...flash? You’re reminded of the earlier notation of the Keystone City Flash from the HUAC hearing, and Keystone being just adjacent to Central City across state lines and water.

Rumors of various more flagrantly inhuman creatures of Gotham among the mythical Batman’s rogues gallery including a moving mound of clay and a crocodile man. These figures have remained in the shadows and the sewers, much like the probably metahuman Batman themselves.

Stories of one man a few months ago rescuing a sinking tourist boat in Amnesty Bay, Maine. Subsequently a missing persons case was filed on a local man last seen walking into the surf. Numerous miraculous oceanic rescues have since been noticed in the area attributed to an armored man and...excessively careful and friendly sea life?
>>
>>4439407
Without a shadow of a doubt the local vigilante causing blackouts and taking the 100 Gang to task is operating and real, dubbed Black Lightning when mentioned on the street.

Rumors of Swamp Monsters and strange occurrences in Marias Louisiana also dot the internet now.

Sightings of a flying man in Dakota, some accounts now pouring online going back decades.

By volume; rumor spread wide and global communication on the matter no longer restrained by a likely overtaxed software worm...there are probably hundreds of incredible miracles and nightmares in the United States alone…

Without a doubt there are other active metas beyond Superwoman. On this realization you and Clara share a poignant look. One way or another the world as you knew it was on cusp of a paradigm shift; Superwoman or no. She was just the first to break out in a way that was undeniable.


Combo. Call Jimmy & do light snooping[\b]


As Clara steps out for a smoke break, two things become evident to you. The first is that you are alone in your new coworker’s apartment. The second is that you haven’t heard anything from Jimmy since he shot you a confirmation text of his arrival to Gotham. There is a curiosity for one and worry over the other.

So you opt to split your time between the two.

“Pick up…” you murmur to yourself as you hear your phone ringing into Jimmy’s as you check the three cabinets near Clara’s minifridge and beneath her few appliances.

Flatware, a few cooking knives, and assorted small pots & tools. Small pantry of a few dry store root vegetables and assorted unappetizing looking meal replacement bars. Not even diet bars or work out bars; from the look of them a calorie packed wilderness survival camping/hiking deal. A bag of rice and assorted canned beans round out the space. At least that's standard fare for someone looking for a break and a in the city.

“Ms. Lane?” Jimmy questions with a very chipper and awake question picking up on his end, “Is everything okay?”

“Just fine Jimmy. I could ask you the same. I was starting to get worried,” you offer as you shift to the shallow closet alongside the murphy bed.

“Well...everything IS fine. Hit a few rough patches and wound up dealing with Gotham traffic,” he laughs to himself...or for someone else, “This town really doesn’t make it easy, especially after the GTA had to shut the trains down for extended repairs,”

“That’s Gotham Transit for you. Are you still in the city? I thought you’d be out by now?” opening Clara’s closet you find more tee shirts and large button down overshirts, yep overalls too.

A few jeans that aren’t torn are folded up top along with some shorts. Some heavier hiking clothes and gear. A few pairs of boots and sneakers.
>>
Smallville really leans into this look, though if she’s going to be in more professional settings it may behove you to help her expand her wardrobe. After this project you either need to drag her shopping sanely and smartly yourself or you could just leave it until Cat Grant can’t help herself anymore and gives herself an aneurysm getting Clarabelle made over.

Those are decisions for later though, as you spy in the closet an old beat up bomber jacket. On closer inspection it’s an actual WWII bomber jacket, with tags and patches on the arms and a name tag stitched across one side of the chest denoting an Eben Kent. A personal effect from her adoptive family?

It’s big and dark brown, as older leather can get. Overly worn and well lived in.

“Yes I’m still in the city. I may have stumbled onto a few related leads,” he says straightly, almost nervously, “Though I’ve encountered an interested third party who has...expressed an interest in our line of inquiry. They want...they want to remain anonymous but if you and or Clara would consent to a meeting they have some things they would be willing to pool resources,”

Accept this invitation to meet?
>Yes, by yourself
>Yes, you and Clara will meet them
>No, this sounds fishy
>Demand a show of good faith
>Jimmy are you in trouble?

“Jimmy. Did you get to Grant’s Gym?” you question as you close the closet door and settle onto a binder on the shelf that folds down from Clara’s murphy bed.

“I haven’t been there yet,” Jimmy explains carefully and slowly, “but I’ll try to get there tomorrow,”

“I’m proud of you Jimmy,” you smile as you sit on the floor with the binder on the coffee table on top of your existing research and begin flipping through a collection of Clara’s so far printed work.

A couple of stories about medical research in Louisiana, though calling out the territorial and mono political nature of control possessed by the funder, the big fish in small town Sunderland family. She implicated him in potential criminal activity but nothing seems to have come from that locally as of when she wrote this a few years ago.

One the ground reporting over the course of a few months about the revolutionary aggression that turned half of Qurac into the Kingdom of Bialya a year before last. She focused on attacks on civilian targets and just noting prominent near war crimes both by desperate insurgents and increasingly frustrated security forces. She even managed an interview with the Bialyan Queen, describing the fanatical loyalty she inspired and the hypnotic nature of her command and accurately predicting the despotic nature she would bring to rule. Though that set of articles you need to look up online as the copies pressed in this album are written in Arabic.
>>
>>4439411

You find her one of her pieces from time spent in Calvin City for a syndicated “CITYNAMEHERE” style online Dispatcher, on an Ivytown Professor attempting to frame a graduate student for illicit drug trade to steal their work on matter reduction. Another in the District proper from before she started her Intergang story bringing attention to a confession that throws in doubt the execution of an accused murderer...which was delayed at the 11th hour you recall from the reporting on the matter from Galaxy Media after the fact.

Wherever she goes, Clara takes an interest in people and calls out the powerful and dangerous. She pokes beehives and she puts herself on the line in various ways. Honestly this lack of self preservation is familiar to you, in your own means and ways. There is passion where she writes about people’s lives being trampled over by the powerful, there is a familiarity when she writes about devastation and loss.

This girl will push you. She’ll give you a run for your skill and celebrity alike once she spreads her wings from atop the Daily Planet’s globe. She is capable of so much on your level, if a bit more than just factual as need be.

You set the Album down.

“Hey, back and relaxed enough to continue,” she offers, smelling certainly of smoke and char,, “How about we start divvying up follow ups?”


It's true, you’ve wrung all you can out of the currently on hand materials as far as you can tell. Especially the matter of the Brownstone; which apparently is held in Trust for one Amelia Hunkel, currently residing in New York.

Work continues into the night, and eventually you fall asleep where convenient. Harm reduced by 1. The next day...

What are the Motivations around tomorrow?
>You’re still hurt, you need to rest & recover, Clara probably does too, so rest & write the preliminary piece.
>Light duty, phone calls on your leads while continuing to lay low.
>Time to take a short trip, The District of Metropolis isn’t too far from the District of Washington
>Jimmy hasn’t hit Grant’s Gym yet, maybe you can get to Gotham in time to join him?
>By hook or Crook, an interview with the BrilyantSoft CEO may help contextualize things…
>You need someone smart to look at the Lantern, and to talk Meta science for the article, to Star Labs!
>You need someone smart to look at the Lantern and talk meta science for the article, and Lex owes you…
>Write in
>>
>>4439411
>>Jimmy are you in trouble?
>You need someone smart to look at the Lantern, and to talk Meta science for the article, to Star Labs!
>>
>>4439411
>Demand a show of good faith
>>4439413
>You need someone smart to look at the Lantern, and to talk Meta science for the article, to Star Labs!
>>
>>4439411
>>Jimmy are you in trouble?
>>4439413
>>You need someone smart to look at the Lantern, and to talk Meta science for the article, to Star Labs!
>>
>>4439411
>>Jimmy are you in trouble?
>>You need someone smart to look at the Lantern, and to talk Meta science for the article, to Star Labs!
>>
>>4439411
>>Jimmy are you in trouble?
>>4439413
>>You need someone smart to look at the Lantern, and to talk Meta science for the article, to Star Labs!
>>
Rolled 2, 2 + 2 = 6 (2d6 + 2)

I'm rolling Lois's Manipulate Someone.
>>
>>4439411
>>Yes, you and Clara will meet them
>This sounds fishy, Jimmy are you in trouble?
I mean, we'll totally do it, but does seem odd.

>>4439413
>What are the Motivations around tomorrow?
Get in touch with Amelia Hunkel, wonder if she even knows about the place, and if she does maybe she knows more about it's past.
I can see the articles now, lid has been blown off with the worm going down, and while people start to get frantic we can reassure them with the idea that metas have been with us for decades, if not longer, with many dedicated to doing good. New info that the web rumor mill won't be on, and a positive spin should play well against the articles the more reactionary papers are bound to head for.
>>
>>4439411
>Demand a show of good faith
>Jimmy are you in trouble?
>Yes, you and Clara will meet them
If they're trustworthy, and Jimmy's good, why not meet with them?
>>4439413
>Light duty, phone calls on your leads while continuing to lay low.
We definitely need to get some health back, but let's wait to start actually writing.
>>
Manipulate Someone, 6. Fail, Lois Lane marks 1 experience. ??? Marks Experience if they choose not to do what you want, but it’s up to them to choose how offended or annoyed they are with you.

“Jimmy are you in trouble,” you say succinctly and clearly into your phone with an upset edge.

Not directed at Jimmy of course, over who you suspect to be listening in or leaning on your photographer.

Jimmy starts to say something, but is cut off. After a tense moment of quiet only punctuated by the distant sound of late night traffic and the slow lazy motorized sound of a Gotham City Police Department dirigible coursing by.

“Ms. Lane, I am not in trouble but now he wants to speak with you,” Jimmy seems tense but suddenly confident.

“Who wants to speak with me, Jimmy?” you’re worried now about whatever is about to happen.

“An anonymous source who won’t identify themselves over the phone,” Jimmy offers with some degree of reverence and awe.

There is a quiet sound as the phone changes hands. There is a magnetic or electric whine with a burst of interference as you imagine something is held before the supposed source’s face or attached to Jimmy’s phone. Could it be one of the Gotham Metas? Could it be the Batman? That vigilante contending with mob and metahuman underground troubles in Gotham City makes sense. Is Batman himself one of these wondrous Metahumans, he would have to be one to contend with Gotham’s troubles and without direct proof of his existence surfacing before?

Unless that was the worm suppressing his information? Could you and the Daily Planet break confirmation of the existence of Batman!? Did Jimmy get a photograph!?

“Well, put them on, Jimmy,” you can still hear Jimmy in the background.

“Good evening Ms. Lane,” the digitally distorted voice sounds...annoyed.

“Good evening, is my photographer in any danger?” you inquire while grabbing one of the notebook papers you’d been using to organize the information you and Clara had been going over.

“Mr. Olsen is in no danger. However he had found his way into a significant volume of trouble this evening. There is no quarrel between us, and I have reason to believe we both possess information the other would find useful,”

“Is this the Batman? A mob informant? A government agent?” you lean into trying to figure out who or what you’re actually dealing with.

There is a pause and measure to this digitized voice as you hear Jimmy talking to himself in the background. When it resumes they ignore your further inquiry and there is a more mechanical and measured tone to their voice.
>>
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>>4441101
“This comes as a one time offer, within the next 48 hours, for you and Ms. Kent. I don’t expect you to answer immediately, you probably want to confer with your colleague and that is understandable. For now I leave Mr. Olsen to his ongoing work and you to ours. I will contact you when you’ve made your decision. If you say yes, we’ll meet after the first sunset of your decision,”

Jimmy’s voice filles your ear after the sound of an exchange, followed closely by the sound of a compression canister releasing in a singular burst.

“Ms. Lane, I owe them my life tonight. They’ve gone now but I’m uncomfortable saying anything else about them,”

“That’s fine Jimmy...that’s fine,”

When Clara does return from her smoke, after a brief conference she is of the mind that you take this potential source up on their offer. Additionally she seems, not outwardly but you’ve gotten a bit better at reading her, mystified by the cloak and dagger of the whole affair.

It doesn’t sound like they’ll take nicely to be jerked around...and probably won’t budge on the terms.
>Accept it
>Decline it
>You need to talk to Clara first
>If he’s annoyed, so are you. Pick this fight
>write in

Morning is a hustle and bustle through the city. Last night a decision was made to meet your main contact at the Metropolis offices of the Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Laboratories. Your trip there is marred though, as last night there had been an accident on the main New Troy line of the monorail. A fire, derailment, and near collision.

No loss of life as the Superwoman is reported to have exhaled hard enough to both extinguish the flames and leave a mass formation of ice that still hasn’t finished melting on the rescued cars and track. As it’s being shaved away children are having a snowball fight beneath the elevated rail line.

So...there are public transit delays.

Enough that you and Clara have to cross town on foot to the primary STAR Labs building. Your contact there, who you phoned ahead to before the offices even opened, is Doctor Emil Hamilton. He’s a rising young star of the scientific world and one of the lead researchers and laboratory board members second only to Doctor Saul Erdel. Lead technician on a revolutionary telecommunications and matter transit project for what has been dubbed Zeta Beam technology.

You caught a glimpse of the other day’s testing from space onboard the L-60 KTE public flight, where you in turn first saw the Superwoman.
>>
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>>4441102

The tapering tower stands before you, and the laboratory front desk was actually pretty quick to receive you.

“Dr. Hamilton was excited for your call,” they offer as the centermost elevator of the bank at the lobby’s back opens revealing a lab coated young man with hair tied back and a trim goatee.

“Ms. Lane,” Emil says quite seriously approaching you and Clara, arm immediately outstretched to greet your free hand while the other carried the lantern, bagged, “I imagine you’ll have questions for me since the managerial board’s announcement last night from California, let me be the first to say that we’ll certainly be continuing Dr. Erdel’s research among our other obligations. I won’t be putting my projects ahead of everything else we’ve managed to build here,”

You’re for a moment confused…

Lois Lane how do you react?
>Play along with this like you know exactly what’s going on
>Emil is a friend, be honest that you have no idea what he’s talking about
>Try and figure out what’s going on from clues around the lobby and roll with it
>Just introduce Clara and edge this matter to explaining itself
>Wait, what?
>Write in


Dun dada da dun da daaa dododo How does a researcher of orphaned projects left by a...look the sylables for Doctor Emil Hamilton lined up with Alexander Hamilton and I couldn't get it out of my head so sue me
>>
>>4441102
>If he’s annoyed, so are you. Pick this fight
Seems like the Lane thing to do.

>>4441104
>Emil is a friend, be honest that you have no idea what he’s talking about
Learning new things is part of the job.
>>
>>4441102
>>Accept it
>Just introduce Clara and edge this matter to explaining itself
>>
>>4441104
>>Wait, what?
>>
>>4441102
>You need to talk to Clara first
>>4441104
>Just introduce Clara and edge this matter to explaining itself
> Write in
While he talks to Clara, we can look up this announcement on our phone
>>
>>4441102
>>Accept it
>>4441104
>>Emil is a friend, be honest that you have no idea what he’s talking about
>>
>>4441102
>>Accept it
>>4441104
>>Emil is a friend, be honest that you have no idea what he’s talking about
>>
>>4441102
>>You need to talk to Clara first
>>4441104
>>Emil is a friend, be honest that you have no idea what he’s talking about
>Sorry. Busy night.
>>
Writing.
>>
You accept the mystery informant’s offer

While you confer with Clara about it that night, you get an email, as a text message, routed through the professional email that Jimmy uses on his phone. An attached file reply with a numerical two button response.

Considering their offer, and the input Jimmy and Clara gave you, you decided it’ll be best to meet with this informant and see what they can bring to the table. There was a moment of hesitation, a want to make this a fight with this individual when you still had them on the phone but no…

There’s something here, and your instincts tell you that it’ll be worth it.

You strike the 1 key on the touch screen. You accept this meeting.

Emil is a friend, be honest that you have no idea what he’s talking about

“I do have tons of questions, Emil, mostly because I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you sigh and shake your head.

“Really?” he questions perplexed, “Then what’s brought you to S.T.A.R. Labs today, and to me?”

“We had a busy night, oh before we get into things, this is my new coworker,” you gesture to your side.

“Clara Kent, new on the city desk,” she offers a hand, “Nice to meet you,”

“And it’s lovely to meet you Ms. Kent. Let’s take this to my office so we can fill each other in,” he offers as he leads you to the elevator banks.

In short order, as you enter Emil’s presently mostly bare and packed office, he lays out what’s going on at S.T.A.R.

“To begin, the day you broke your Superwoman story we experienced a tragedy here at STAR,” he sits down and looks mournfully at a photo still on his desk of himself and a number of colleagues, “Dr. Erdel had a cardiac episode and passed en route to the hospital after the Zeta Beam experiment,”

“The Director of S.T.A.R. Labs Metropolis is dead?” you reply in shock, “I guess the Superwoman story pushed a lot off the front page,”

“Page three actually,” Emil sighs and steeples his fingers.

“Mr. Troupe covered it, both the experiment and tragedy. I found his breakdown of the Zeta Beam applicable theory really insightful. I’m sorry for your loss, Dr. Erdel was one of your mentors if I remember the article correctly,”

“Yes, but there’s no time to grieve, because we have proof sitting here and in Central City that the Zeta Beam works...it just needs some polish,” Emil Hamilton hums to himself before sighing and sits back, “The Board of Directors named me the Director in Erdel’s place...it’s been a whirlwind two days between his death, the Superwoman, and the- well the everything,”

“Speaking of everything, we’re working a story and we wanted to pick your brain for some insights and a few quotes,” you explain to Emil while fishing out the rusted lantern and setting it on his desk.

“What is this, Ms. Lane?” he questions and takes out a pair of glasses while looking over the old antique.
>>
>>4442199

“Just watch,” you say and pat the Lantern.

Nothing happens.

“Okay, touch the Lantern,” you offer to the newly appointed director of S.T.A.R. Labs.

He does as instructed, regarding you curiously if dubiously. Nothing happens. It reacted to Whisper with hostility before. It played the message after Jimmy and Clara bumped into it.

“Clara could yo-” there is a brief rush of air in the room as light again spills through the rusted cracks, Clara stands beside you in awe having not advanced on the lantern.

“Guess it just needed a second. It’s old,” she reasons after a moment as the phantom image of Alan Scott manifests cast by the emerald flame within the rusted vessel.

Doctor Emil Hamilton watches in rapt attention for the whole of Alan's accounting of events and intentions to leave rather than stay under Argent & Faraday’s thumb.

“Near as we can figure, Faraday is King Faraday. During the hearings he was a CBI agent before becoming part of a restructuring of the organization as Argent,” you explain.

“And part of what they did was suppress information about these ‘metahumans’, both hero and vigilante alike,” Clara explains with some burgeoning excitement.

“We were hoping to get your take on this thing,” you pat the lantern a few times as the flames die down, “and maybe offer your insights on the science behind the Superwoman’s abilities,”

Hamilton sits a moment, chin in his hand as he looks askance at nothing. A brief worry on his face.

“I have a few theories, especially after seeing how she carried the plane and what happened when she lifted the monorail cars...as for this lantern I can take a look to figure out how it generated that hologram,” Emil explains behind a tense voice.

Something’s been off...but considering where Emil now sits professionally you expect there might be some things he can’t tell you.

“It’s not a hologram,” an unfamiliar voice calls in from the door as a figure barges into the room, “It’s an illusion,”

Who is this so wise in the ways of magic?
>a raggedy dirty trenchcoated chain smoking bitch of a con
>a raggedy dirty peacoat and scarfed chain smoking knight templar
>an all terrain wheelchair bound fellow carrying an aura of doom
>a thin fanciful lad with cowlicks on either side of his head that look horned
>Mercy Graves, Lex Luthor’s chief of Security. Why is she here?
>A tuxedo clad person, of some fame, with top hat and cane
>A gaunt figure in an understated dark purple suit and matching skullcap
>A bespectacled bald fellow in a side breasted lab smock with a permanent sneer
>Write in

If Emil is hiding something from you, do you want to try and figure out what it is?
>Y
>N
>>
>>4442202
>a thin fanciful lad with cowlicks on either side of his head that look horned
>Y
>>
>>4442202
>>a raggedy dirty chain smoker
Either sounds interesting. Suspect I know who one is.
Would deep dive and maybe roll out a write in, but I should be attempting to get back to sleep. Getting murdered in a dream is very disconcerting.

>If Emil is hiding something from you, do you want to try and figure out what it is?
>>Y
Now, he's a friend, so we may not want to include something he's hidding tying back to him in an article, but that is some immediate tension, that can't be healthy, and, considering how much this sort of thing is exploding into public view, possibly hazardous.
>>
>>4442202
>>a raggedy dirty trenchcoated chain smoking bitch of a con
J.C.???
>If Emil is hiding something from you, do you want to try and figure out what it is?
>>Y
>>
>>4442202
>>an all terrain wheelchair bound fellow carrying an aura of doom
If Emil is hiding something from you, do you want to try and figure out what it is?
>>Y
>>
>>4442202
>>A tuxedo clad person, of some fame, with top hat and cane
>>
Rolled 6, 3 = 9 (2d6)

Okay, we're figuring out what Emil Hamilton is hiding.

Are we trying to get him to tell us what's up straight forwardly or are we going to try and suss it out from what's around and around what he's saying? I'm rolling it now either way.
>>
>>4442666
Straight Forwardly please
>>
>>4442666
>>4442688
Mostly straightforward, those we can prod him with what we suss out. He should know we'll figure it out sooner rather than later.
>>
[b]Manipulate Emil Hamilton, 11, Success[/b]

“Emil, we’ve been friends a long time. We are literally sitting on the biggest changes the world has ever seen and whatever else is going on I need you to be straight with me,” you explain sullenly and then meet the eyes of the new Director of S.T.A.R. Labs Metropolis head on, “And not hold something back unless you have a reason you can’t speak freely,”

He regards you carefully, and after a moment tries to speak but doesn’t seem to be able to find the words.

“What if what I might have to say is something unbelievable, even with proof? Something we’re still trying to figure out how to publish or release information about because we don’t have a protocol for it,” Emil questions, “Strictly speaking this is something we haven’t reported to the police or even the board of directors about Dr. Erdel’s death, something we think could cause a panic”

You reason things out carefully as Clara glances between you, Emil, and the Lantern.

“Help us break the truth honestly, with facts and without spectacle,” you offer.

...Emil sighs, and rubs at his temples.

“There was an accident during the transmission phase of the Zeta Beam experiment,” Emil explains, “One of the mid test calibration transmissions missed the Satellite we were bouncing things off of,”

“Jimmy and I saw a few of those from near orbit,” you offer, “A few beams bounced off off angle as well,”

“Yes, but that isn’t what has me concerned,” he sighs, “The one that missed outright, it came back. It bounced off of something and came back and it brought something to the transmission lab,”

“It brought something?”

“There isn’t any visual data there, the camera was on the platform for the outgoing particulates. All we have is Doctor Erdel’s audio log and the fact that we found him outside the room,”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, why is him not being in the room important?”

“We were scrambling to get the security door to the Zeta Beam lab open after Dr. Erdel hit his emergency button. It was a cardiac episode. That door takes time, there are ingrained hard security processes and checks we couldn’t override, but he was left outside the door clutching his chest and gasping. It cut precious minutes off of the response time to getting him help but he still died in transit to Metropolis General,”

“Did he get Zeta Beamed out of the room?” Clara asks, “That’s what the technology is for, right, teleportation,”

“It wasn’t that. It’s better if I just play this audio for you. Maybe provide a copy and make a statement officially. I’m the director now and it’s my decision anyway,” Emil reasons more than a little stressed out.

[b]Doctor Emil Hamilton will share with you the strange and otherworldly truth about what shocked Doctor Saul Erdel into the Cardiac Arrest that took his life, [/b]
>>
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>>4442785

After a few moments of typing on his laptop and retrieving the audio logs from the local closed server at S.T.A.R. Labs Metropolis, Emil ques up a time code range after scrubbing through the more belabored minutia of the Zeta Beam experiment.

“This is sending platform 1, I have incoming telemetry? Eduardo are you sending something back?” says the recorded voice of the older Dr. Erdel amid the sound of whirs and hums and charging energy.

“Negative, Saul. The Taos platform isn’t up and running, I’m just observing the data. What about you Mr. Rathaway?” echoes the recorded radio transmission of a far away voice.

“Negative unless Cisco is up to one of his little pranks,” drolls a snide and annoyed voice over a similar transmission being picked up by Erdel’s audio log.

“It’s not me,” replies another voice, “Confirmation that nothing is coming from the Central City platform. Wavelength suggests it’s the 432nd calibration and targeting beam, the one that missed the satellite. So how about you lay off now Hartley?”

“Did it bounce off of something? Wait, the platform and aperture aren’t prepared for incoming transmission there might be a feedback discharge. Sealing security and blast doors to the Zeta Lab! Emergency Faraday cage to halt transmission won’t be active in time but I already started it up,” Erdel’s professionalism cuts through the emergency panic.

“DAMN IT SAUL! GET OUT OF THERE,” the voice from Taos is distorted and cuts off along with some partial failed transmission attempts from Central City.

There is the sound of a small explosion. Coughing and rough voice from Dr. Erdel.

“I’m...I’m fine. What was that?! Damn, all this smoke. Activating *coughs* emergency fan,” there are staggering sounds as the doctor hauls himself to his feet and shuffles about activating this and that, “Telemetry, telemetry...that heading? It bounced off Mars? HAHA! The Zeta Beam can reach as far as Mars so quickly! Brilliant! Even if matter transmission fails we’ve revolutionized communications technology! Absolutel- hello? Hello who’s there? Yes- hel- AGH! OH AAAAGH!”

There is a stumbling and thudding sound as many things hit the ground being knocked over by the late Doctor’s scramble, as you imagine it.

“No, STAY AWAY! STAY AWAY! STAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAY!” he screams and cries before he begins choking and gasping.

“No...no...oh...oh. Oh no, not...stint…” Erdel manages after a few minutes of gasps as footsteps approach him.

Something heavy, breathing in an unfamiliar way and making strange sounds on the recording is very near to Doctor Saul Erdel in his last moments.

“I’m sorry...I’m so sorry...what we were testing was only supposed to move a few grains of sand. How it managed to bring...how it...how it brought...not...forgive me,”
>>
>>4442790
There is a pained and sorrowful laugh from Dr. Erdel. A strange resonating sound reverberates through the speaker.

“Yes...yes I think I’m...we both received the shocks of our lives I imagine,” the laugh continues, “Though...your heart might be...stronger...to weather it,”

The resonance again.

“No...no it's too late. The people trying to save me,” he chokes and gasps, “they’ll never get the door open in time. Listen to me...I feel your kindness...your concern, but not everyone will give you long enough to see past first impressions. Cut the fans, there...the smoke...use it as cover to run and to hide. Mankind… is a suspicious and violent creature. You must...you must not reveal yourself...I’m...I’m so...please forgive me,”

The doctor murmurs again about forgiveness, there is a muffled shuffling sound and a different resonant sound as the doctor mewls weakly and confused about already being a ghost before only the sounds of the damaged lab remains.

“Something frightened Dr. Erdel to death,” Hamilton says solemnly, “And not something that meant to...something that moved him through a solid wall in hopes of saving him. Something that came from Mars,”

An Alien? An alien that can move through solid objects? You can see the headline now, and the public panic. It’s easy to understand why Emil would play this closely.

You share an uncomfortable, if curious look with Clara.

“So...it’s a friendly alien?” Clara ventures toward Emil, probingly for his opinion.

“It tried to save his life, a stranger's life. It was communicating with him, maybe at a frequency we can hear but the instruments couldn’t...no there would be a language barrier,” he shakes his head, “I’ve been trying not to think about this for the past few days in all honesty. Its an extra terrestrial intelligence of some kind, perhaps even a meta alien given its ability to phase through matter or teleport itself,”

“Meta alien?” you question.

“The Superwoman confirms the idea you’ve presented to me about people with extraordinary abilities, Metahumans. Either the abilities of this unknown Martian are inherent or perhaps a meta ability caused by interplanetary Zeta Beam travel. I can’t just bring up it’s species name after the word Meta without knowing it,”

“So, we’re all in agreement then. Aliens can be people and good guys too,” Clara says with a less aloof than normal hopeful air about her while snapping somewhat awkwardly a pair of finger guns at the stressed Doctor before turning to you with a sudden burst of excitement, “Right, Lois?”

“Burying the lead there though, isn’t it,” you sigh and exclaim, “Aliens exist!”

“And for good or ill I worry about the panic that could cause,” Doctor Hamilton says with some solemnity.

“Does it have to though?” Clara questions, more to herself than anyone in the room.
>>
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>>4442792

“A worthy point of discussion for another time, perhaps when or if we can even find this supposedly terrifying to witness victim of forced transit. I know this is basically my public statement on the matter, Ms. Lane, but I pray you give this all due consideration and care,” he pleads.

[b]Lois, on the matter of Aliens you offer[/b]
>People are already riled up over terrestrial immigrants, this could be bad
>If we give people a chance and say this guy isn’t bad, we may be able to help him
>Aliens exist is too good a story to pass up regardless of consequences
>You are terrified of what could be unleashed by an alien on the loose
>You REALLY want to be the first journalist to interview an extra terrestrial.
>write in


The figure standing there is clad in a roughly worn suit and trench coat, a sharp red tie belaying the rest of his drab and somehow muted color. Blonde stubble and short messy hair he holds a cigarette carelessly between his fingers as he closes the door behind him, leaning a moment on the handle. He reeks of booze and cloves. They’ve barged into the room.

“It’s not a hologram, mate,” he takes a drag of his cigarette and carelessly jets the exhalation through flaring nostrils, “It’s a bloody illusion,”

“Who are you,” Emil stands from his desk in confusion and upset, “And what are you doing in my office?”

“John, and I’m a petty dabbler here about that night light,” he gestures to the lantern and then looks at you and Clara, “what you two birds have been swinging around like a beacon. Let’s have a nice chat about that, yeah? Maybe over a pint,”

“See here, this is a private research facility and I’m going to have to ask you to leave!” Doctor Emil Hamilton reaches for the phone on his desk.

“Please, what I have to say is serious and entirely unbelievable; but it’s the truth and more’n a couple of lives might depend on you lot taking me seriously,” he says earnestly but then with a smirk and wink toward...well everyone in the room honestly, “Hell Doc, you’re welcome on that pint invitation yourself but most eggheads don’t like the kinda things I get into when knackered,”

[b]How does Lois respond to this newcomer?[/b]
>State you’d like Emil to let him stay, hear him out
>Poignantly remind Emil about the ‘unbelievable,’
>Tell this loser to get lost
>You want to speak with this guy, but later
>This is Emil’s lab, let him handle this
>Aliens, and now magic? Okay, there’s the line.
>write in
>>
>>4442799
>>You REALLY want to be the first journalist to interview an extra terrestrial.
>>Poignantly remind Emil about the ‘unbelievable,’

Where is the first part of this update supposed to be inserted?
>>
>>4442799
>>You REALLY want to be the first journalist to interview an extra terrestrial.
>>This is Emil’s lab, let him handle this
>>
>>4442799
>>If we give people a chance and say this guy isn’t bad, we may be able to help him
>>You REALLY want to be the first journalist to interview an extra terrestrial.

>>Poignantly remind Emil about the ‘unbelievable,’
>>
>>4442799
>>If we give people a chance and say this guy isn’t bad, we may be able to help him
>State you’d like Emil to let him stay, hear him out
>>
>>4442799
>>People are already riled up over terrestrial immigrants, this could be bad
>You REALLY want to be the first journalist to interview an extra terrestrial
>Poignantly remind Emil about the ‘unbelievable,’
>>
>>4442847
...after the playback but before the statements of holograms? I’m going fast and loose here
>>
>>4442799
>>People are already riled up over terrestrial immigrants, this could be bad
>>4442799
>>You want to speak with this guy, but later
>>
Rolled 6, 1 + 2 = 9 (2d6 + 2)

>>
Rolled 2, 1 + 3 = 6 (2d6 + 3)

that was again swaying Emil to your objectives.

Now I'm rolling someone's use magic.

On a ten, things go as intended. on a 7-9 there may be a glitch.
>>
Probably inserted where that other choice rests


“I REALLY want to be the first journalist to interview an extra terrestrial,” you can’t hide your excitement at the prospect that Aliens are real.

>Clara Kent will remember this

When you learned about the Roswell controversy and Area 51 as a child, your dad would try to shut down any notion of government conspiracy or shenanigan. It wasn’t the sole thing that got you onto a truth seeking path, but it was part of the mosaic of your past. Every time you saw a Roswell inspired autopsy scene in the films or television, you always imagined how much more interesting it would be as a conversation rather than a study. Dissect an entire world, culture, and biology with words from a living witness rather than at the edge of scalpel.

“Assuming they actually are an extra terrestrial,” Clara offers while Emil cleans his glasses while calmly confirming that it absolutely is one whether from another world or potentially a dimensional plane, “And assuming we can find them before anyone else,”

“If not this one, frankly any space alien will do. It’ll be just like meta’s I’ll bet. One comes out of the woodwork and then more will just tumble out of the sky,” you grin to yourself.

“They’re out there alone, and with an impression I can only imagine has been reinforced by ongoing experiences and discourse in popular culture,” Emil sighs, “They might not want to be found,”

Meanwhile, in Gotham


A man who looks very much like Doctor Erdel in scavenged clothes pulls their ball cap down a bit further over their face as the bodega clerk hands them their paper bag stuffed with a few vegetables, a few bottles of Soder-Cola and Zesti-Cola (for comparison), and an uncomfortable number of packages of Chocos. As they leave, they brush past a disheveled and exhausted looking Jimmy Olsen who goes to the griddle counter alongside the register.

“Hey, can I get a bacon egg and cheese sandwich with hot sauce,” the young man asks in an exhausted tone as the facsimile of Doctor Saul Erdel lingers in the doorway.

The figure stares not quite at Jimmy himself, but to the thoughts at the top of the young man’s mind.

“Sure, one Harleen special coming up,” says the guy at the griddle.

“Great! Now...something sweet, HEY! You’re all out of Chocos?” Jimmy observes at the empty swaths of cookie displays beneath the register while the faux Erdel hurries along out the door with a quickened step.

“Sorry kid, all sold out,”

Lois Lane wants to poignantly remind Emil about the ‘Unbelievable

“I dunno Emil, I kind of want to keep an open mind about the unbelievable,” you offer to the scientist who sets his jaw before you turn back to the apparent interloper, “Wait, you’re not a spaceman pretending to be a magician, are you?”
>>
>>4443367

“Never bloody well again. I hate surfing and you can’t smoke in a vacuum,” he signs and then looks over to Doctor Hamilton with a smile, expectant as to his response.

You can’t decide to crack a genuine smile or thin your lips. At a glance you determine neither can Clara, but she was looking at you for some kind of prompt before averting her eyes at your returning look. Was it something you said?

“Lois, if you can delay the story I’ve shared with you long enough for me to collect a bit more data for myself and your article before S.T.A.R. Labs has to deal with a full scale attempted governmental inspection and investigation I would greatly appreciate it and be more than hear out our new acquaintance rather than summoning security,” Emil says evenly while casting a curious but still dubious look at the coated fellow before moving his rise toward his phone to tentatively reach over his desk.

Well, he has you there. Until the evidence is in your hand this story is hearsay and Emil can deny it to his whim. The two of you have done games like this long enough that you know he means what he says at least and is good for providing you all the proof you’ll need anyway.

You nod. Emil sighs, relieved in response before reaching a hand to the former interloper.

“Doctor Emil Hamilton, and forgive me but I was too surprised to catch your name,” John takes Emil’s hand.

“John Constantine. Again, petty dabbler the the occult and mystic,” he retracts the hand after a shake and claps his hands before looking to the two of you, scattering cigarette ash in the process, “Right, you two swinging around a mystical beacon,”

“The lantern?” Clara questions as you regard it again yourself.

“Yes the bloody lantern...well no. Some bloke put a bit of magic in that thing from a very old and very big source and now that it’s awake any practitioner of craft or ghoulie with half an eye left in their head may well be coming,” he sits in an unoccupied chair and takes out a small pocket knife and pricks his thumb.

“I’m sorry, what are you even doi-” Emil starts as the room fills with a brief flash of red light.

Glancing down you see the cigarette ash has taken a strange shape. It floats and twists in geometric patterns before lancing at the lantern. Covering it before falling flat and loose upon Emil’s soon to be former desk as he is probably moving to a bigger office as the Lab’s new director.

“Just a little spell. Nothing major but something to do the trick,”

John Constantine attempted a spell to block the lantern from further easy notice by otherworldly forces. He does not know he failed. This has drawn imminent otherworldly attention

“That was a spell and you’re a wizard?” you question absentmindedly.
>>
>>4443368

“Dabbler. Only self important puffballs go around calling themselves Wizards and bein’ mysterious,” he laughs, “Wankers, all of them. And I do hate to put on airs,”

“Did you use this magic to break into S.T.A.R. Labs?” questions Emil, uneasily.

“Nah mate,” he laughs, “Nicked a clipboard from the Trident Shipping van out front. You can go anywhere with a clipboard these days,”

“And what was that spell for just now?” you question earnestly and curiously.

“Something to keep eyes off the night light,” He cockily stands and moves over to the window to light a fresh cigarette, “You lot were lucky I got here first. There’s no telling the kind of trouble that trinket could attract. If you’d like I’d be happy to take it off your ha- wait a bloody second what’s that?”

“So, the green flame in the lantern is magic? Metas, Magic, and Aliens in two days,” you smile to yourself and pick up the rusted iron tool, “This is getting exciting. It’s a dedicated issue expose easy,”

There is a black dot in the sky, rising over the skyline of New Troy island from the north. Though airborn it is not flying like you’ve witnessed of the Superwoman. Rather it is something launched and falling. Falling slowly in an arc toward this room and window.

“We need to go,” Clara rises after looking away from the window and pulls you up a bit forcefully from the shoulder, “We all need to get out of here!”

Emil, grabbing a pair of antique binoculars that he keeps as a display piece on his desk lifts them to glare out the wall sized window as Clara opens the door and shoves you and Emil out before reaching out for Constantine. Somehow you managed to grab the lantern.

“I thought he was a damn myth,” John Constantine watches surprised and oddly resigned, “Well bugger me, I wish it were Sunday,”

QM move being taken. Separate

There is a resounding Crash as a hulking figure crashes into the room. As you are pulled down the hallway before a rush of dust fills the corridor and there is a thunderous roar that takes you off your feet and further shatters nearby glass and windows. For a moment you are knocked clear of the others. A beat later, as something stomps toward you, you find yourself alone amid the destruction rent upon this office level.
>>
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>>4443368

“WHERE IS HE! GRUNDY KNOWS THE GREEN MAN IS NEAR!” The figure is inhumanly large, a muscular bloated corpse of chalk white skin with a lopsided face that looks like someone hit Bibbo with a mac truck.

It’s clothes are torn and water logged. A black suit that barely fits its prodigious height and cartoonish frame, completely waterlogged and flowing with the stench of a swamp and industrial chemicals.

“Lady has a lantern?” it looks down at you through the clearing smoke, puffing its chest out causing black ichor to leak from bullet holes already mildly leaking rancid green water, “Lady will tell Grundy where the Green Man is or Grundy will get mad!”

You’ve heard of him. Every kid knows the story. The haunted summer camp or campfire story shared from the Golden Age of Gangland Gotham, the tale of Cyrus Gold reborn as the dead man Solomon Grundy in the Slaughter Swamp. In this region on the East Coast the night before Halloween is colloquially called “Grundy’s Night,”.

Lois Lane, you have 2 Harm, the lantern, multiple recording devices, and a multitool with a knife. There are broken walls and access to potential super science labs around you
>You need to flee this monster!
>Wait, what happened to the others?
>If it’s fight or flight you’re still put off flying, what do you use to try and fight?
>Try to convince him to leave you alone, he doesn’t seem bright?
>Distract his dumb ass, then flee.
>...you know what, fuck a sane or rational response, try and interview it
>Write in
>>
>>4443379
>>...you know what, fuck a sane or rational response, try and interview it
It may be a meme, but it's just ridiculous enough it might work. Maybe he can tell us about the Green Man he's looking for.
>>
>>4443379
>...you know what, fuck a sane or rational response, try and interview it
Grundy has been known to be a pretty rational guy when he wants to be
>>
It occurs to me, I have spiraled Lois Lane into a series of very busy days with this quest and may MAY be over thinking causes and effects. Then again, conjob cocking up like this seems on brand and its funny. And of course the first two votes were to interview.
>>
>>4443379
>make sure to break out recording device and
I was going to follow this with running, but the audacity of the interview suggestion others are taking is infectious.
>>Try to convince him to leave you alone
>>Distract
>try and interview it
"Lois Lane, reporter with the Daily Planet, I'm actually trying to find out about the 'Green Man' myself, maybe we can compare notes.."
Deescalate and distract, if we actually can pull of an interview that would be wild, but more likely watching for an opportunity to GTFO.
Didn't one of the news blurbs we found mention Grundy too?
>>
>>4443379
>>...you know what, fuck a sane or rational response, try and interview it
the projection from the lantern mentioned him
>>
>>4443557
>>4443506
Left him in orbit since the 50s?
Well that says a lot of things.

One is that he's might actually be unkillable, two is that John cocked it up and somehow pulled that guy down, and three is that Grundy might be a bit out of date.
>>
>>4443506
This.
>>4443622
Grundy's unkillable, yeah. Kill him, a new body spawns in Slaughter Swamp. Orbit was a good place to put him, at least before we started throwing up satellites and shit.
>>
>>4444042

Solomon Grundy sits bored and slowly drifts to sleep. Long has he watched the earth below as more and more of the world brightens at night. In this sleep, trapped in a sphere of gold and green he dreams of revenge against those that placed him there.

He dreams of revenge until his slumber is perturbed. Not waking as the sphere collides with the solar panels of a great machine, knocking both off of their orbits sometime in the late nineties.

Both would crash upon the base earth, and in that impact would Grundy be free...but slumber still until a flare of light from the foe he dreams of crushing between these two hands...
>>
Any idea when you'll start the new Eclipsed Moon thread tonight, Artemis? I don't want to miss it.
>>
>>4444047
I'm posting the pithy post 1 when I get home around 5pm EST. Then maybe an update later tonight and maybe one in the morning. Going it slow until I get an operations window Friday or Saturday.

I would like more of you, all of you, to offer some feedback on how I'm presenting this quest. And your expectations of Daily Planet Quest as this mystery gets wrapped up, you meet Jimmy's informant, and maybe...maybe...land the interview of the century.
>>
Rolled 4, 6 + 2 = 12 (2d6 + 2)

Well, it's time to attempt to Manipulate Solomon Grundy.
>>
>>4444050
My biggest complaint is that I want MOAR. Sorry, I know that's not helpful, but it's all that comes to mind.
>>
Manipulate Solomon Grundy 12...well okay then


He looks down at you with milky and cloudy eyes, the hulking corpse sees you through them despite the visible cataracts. There is a snarling curl to his cracked lips as he takes your lack of instant response as something to be impatient about, but you’re thinking. You’re calculating. You are looking for answers and the best course of action.

And at the end of the day you are a reporter.

Surviving this is to report this.

You switch on your recorders, presenting the analog tape device forward.

“Mr. Grundy I’m Lois Lane with the Daily Planet,” you say clearly and succinctly, “What can you tell me about the Green Man? I’ve been following his trail too, it’s how I found this lantern. Do you have any comments or statements you want to see printed in the papers about him? A message perhaps?”

Grundy’s expression turns to confusion, pursed lips as he tries to suss out words in his head instead in the back of his throat. He leans down toward you and tentatively pokes at the recording device.

“Lady also looking for Green Man,” his confusion is palpable as he looks around the ruined corridor, at the opened wall spaces into some of the labs on this level where scientists cower and pick themselves up and back at the office he decimated with his landing, “Then green man not here?”

“No, but could you tell me about him? Maybe I can still help,” you offer while pulling yourself up on the wall to your feet, “If you’ll just answer a few questions,”

Grundy hums deeply to himself and growls a bit before crossing his arms, and sitting in a cross legged position with a deep and steel superstructure bending thud. An evacuation alarm sounds somewhere in the building’s distance as you shoot a few glances at errant scientists that it might be a good idea for them to flee.

“Okay lady,” Grundy offers in a brusque manner, “Ask!”

Grundy actually seems to know very little as you begin asking him questions. During the course of the interview you get him to offer his name, what absolutely little he knows about where he comes from, and that the Green Man kept stopping him from getting his Gold. It sounds like nonsense to a point, involving being stranded on the moon or trapped in a bubble in space, and how the Green Man and his magic ring always got in Grundy’s way.

Amid this exclusive interview with the exquisitely simple corpse, you see John Constantine cursing to himself as he slowly extracts himself from the rubble of Emil’s office. Well, that’s at least good, though you worry that you haven’t seen a sign of Clara or the good Doctor. John looks worried at the sight of you sitting and chatting with Solomon Grundy and begins fishing through his pockets and coat for something before you raise a hand in a gesture to stall.
>>
>>4444544

You get a better idea of what Alan Scott could do, and how his ring and a different lantern than the one he left his message in allowed him to perform amazing feats and craft shapes and animated constructs out of the emerald flame. Allowing him flight, shields, and even the ability to soar beyond the sky...though with the strange limitation that Grundy could still hit him with trees or parts of houses. A wooden weakness? The power to traverse space and his emerald flame couldn’t touch wood?

Incredibly strange. Along with more proper names of members of the Justice Society as you’re able to eventually manage to coax out of him.

There is a commotion outside as your phone buzzes. Constantine remains in the shattered doorway to Emil’s office looking tensely at the situation.

“Hold on, Solomon,” you offer, “I need to take a call,”

“Okay Lady...did...did Grundy help you help Grundy?” he questions as you wonder if you’ll ever go nose blind to the scent of this decay because Cyrus Gold is a gold mine of information.

“I won’t know right away Grundy, I still have a lot of people to talk to,” you sigh and take the call as Grundy cups his chin in thought,”

“Lois, are you alright? Superwoman said she could see you sitting with that monster!” Emil quietly asks through the phone’s speaker into your ear.

“Yes, Emil. He’s right here. I’m interviewing Mr. Solomon Grundy about the man in the Lantern. Apparently they know each other,” you offer evenly.

“Who you talk to lady?” Grundy rumbles.

“The man whose office you smashed, Solomon,” you offer simply.

“Oh...well tell him Grundy is sorry. Thought Green Man was there and Grundy really wants to smash the Green Man. Don’t know this man, or if want to smash,”

Grundy considers for another moment.

“Grundy does like smash,” he chuckles to himself before yawning.

“Mr. Solomon Grundy is very sorry he smashed your office, Emil,” you explain calmly.

“Are you in danger?”

“I probably was but I think I’ve got everything sorted here, I’ll call you back,” you say as John slinks through the labs trying to get closer despite your warning glare, “Solomon are you getting sleepy, do you need to reschedule?”

“Grundy is getting sleepy...when you finish talking to more people will lady come talk to Grundy? Help Grundy know where he finds Green Man?”

“Absolutely, Solomon, where can I find you?”

“Grundy’s swamp...Grundy go back there now, and sleep,” the brute struggles to his feet and lumbers back the way he came, before leaping out the hole he made earlier in the front facing wall of the building, clearing the width of the city in a single hulking bound. Idly you wonder how bad things could have gone if you had tried to fight him, would the lantern reacted to Grundy’s touch the way it almost did to Whisper?
>>
>>4444546

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you watch the figure vanish into the bright noontime sky. Watching him shrink away you look to your side as John Constantine struggles from where he was hiding to up behind you and puts a medallion he might have been prepping to use back into his pocket. Additionally you catch sight of the Superwoman hovering just beside the hole in the wall, her eyebrow quirked and arms crossed as she leans against the glass.

“Okay, twice is a coincidence but three times isn’t something I can ignore,” you sigh to the blonde in the short bomber jacket, “Are you stalking me?”

“Call me curious, you kind of took the reins on naming me after all,” she shrugs and points at the hurtling form of Solomon Grundy, “And you have this amazing knack for finding trouble. I was just in the neighborhood and helped the evacuation. You seemed to have the rest covered,”

John looks out over the span of what’s been wrought as the black dot of Solomon Grundy disappears in the distance over the bay. You cannot help but be amused that she is amused at the name you gave her.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs.

“Anyway, you’ll forgive me but I need to go make sure that the big guy there doesn’t cause any trouble on his way home to get some sleep,” she smiles before pulling away from the building, “Your friends are safe. Doctor Hamilton is trying to sort things out down there and the Kent woman said she needed to find a paper bag after all that excitement. So...I guess I’ll see you around,”

Lois Lane...she’s right there and you have to chase your story
>Let her go, the day may yet need saving
>Watch her leave, ever entranced by what she can do
>Wait, you have questions! Can you schedule an interview?
>You can’t just ask her for an interview, ask her if she’d like to join you for coffee
>write in

On the matter of the Lantern and John Constantine, this is probably a combo answer
>Well, magic is probably real. See if he’ll grant an interview
>You want nothing further to do with John Constantine
>The lantern itself might be more trouble than it’s worth, let him have it
>You want to leave the Lantern with Emil to study with science
>You want to hold on to this lantern
>You want him to make sure that spell he supposedly cast was actually working
>Write in
>>
>>4444547
>>Wait, you have questions! Can you schedule an interview?

>You want to leave the Lantern with Emil to study with science
>>
>>4444547
>>Wait, you have questions! Can you schedule an interview?

>>Well, magic is probably real. See if he’ll grant an interview
>>You want him to make sure that spell he supposedly cast was actually working
>>Write in
I have a feeling John may decline an interview, maybe we can get him to agree to be a consultant?
>>
>>4444547
>Wait, you have questions! Can you schedule an interview?
>Well, magic is probably real. See if he’ll grant an interview
>You want him to make sure that spell he supposedly cast was actually working
>>
>>4444547
>>Wait, you have questions! Can you schedule an interview?
>>You want to leave the Lantern with Emil to study with science
>>You want him to make sure that spell he supposedly cast was actually working
>>
>>4444547
>>Wait, you have questions! Can you schedule an interview?

>>Well, magic is probably real. See if he’ll grant an interview
>>You want to leave the Lantern with Emil to study with science
>>You want him to make sure that spell he supposedly cast was actually working
>>
>>4444547
>>You can’t just ask her for an interview, ask her if she’d like to join you for coffee
>Well, magic is probably real. See if he’ll grant an interview
>>
“Wait!” you reach out and shout at the retreating figure in the air, who pauses and turns to you in perfect and haunting control of her own momentum, and plead a case with fervor as you keep yourself otherwise cool of countenance, “Can we schedule an interview. After you get done with the zombie?”

Her brash smile cracks open across her face as her hands find her hips.

“Certainly Ms. Lane, I think I can make that wish come true. Just be somewhere in the open air tonight and I’ll grant you the exclusive,” she laughs before pitching away and leaning into a raised fist before hurtling after the vanishing Solomon Grundy.

The danger, the excitement, and again the danger melt away in the presence of her smile.

“Well, sod it all,” Constantine whistles to himself as he repeatedly tries to light up a fresh, if damaged, cigarette, “And here I thought the whole Superbird thing was just a bit of American media shite,”

“I thought you dealt in things beyond understanding, Constantine,” you remark and then shift your attention to him.

“Magic isn’t beyond understanding, any bloody idiot can do it. That’s what makes the real deal so dangerous,” he grouses as he finally succeeds in getting his relaxing fix, “Now, if you’d be so kind as to leave the Lantern with-”

“Not a chance, though I would like you to make sure that spell you did actually worked,” you demand as he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t need to tell me twice, not sure if he was already airborne when I cast it or if I failed spectacularly,” he prods at the lantern in your grasp a few times and nods before grinding his new cigarette out into the side, drawing a smaller version of the pattern you saw him cast in ashes, “There, all set,”

“Excellent. Then if any bloody idiot can do magic, want to tell the world about it? Exclusive interview with the petty dabbler who got run over by Solomon Grundy? Given the news day in progress I’m sure that’ll at least get a page 2 column,”

He pauses and regards you with a flat expression.

“Interview, what the hell are you-,” he thinks back and begins assembling matters you don’t think he knew about beforehand, “Oh bugger me, you’re a bloody reporter…”

He looks out into the distance where the Superwoman flew off.

“You’re THAT bloody reporter?!” he sighs, “Nope, not doing. Sorry love but as much as I’d love to be published that’s probably the worst thing you can do to the world,”

You gesture vaguely at the New Chopper that caught Grundy’s bounding away. The shaggy magic man narrows his eyes and huffs as she looks away.

“Anonymous source, and I’ll be talking less about craft and more about how bloody dangerous and unpredictable it all is,” he coughs and retreats back into the interior of the office aiming toward the emergency stairs, “Vis a vis tons of necrotic fun out there,”
>>
>>4445902
“Sure, he caused structural damage to the building but he didn’t seem that bad,” you think, “Then again if someone shot at him it probably wouldn’t have gone well,”

John stops beneath the ruined archway of Emil’s former office and looks down at the wooden door laid unevenly flat among the rubble. He kicks at the corder causing it to crack. The pressure and treated pressed wood is...rotten and gray beneath the surface staining.

“Thought he was a bloody myth. Solomon Grundy may well be a big dumb cock now that he’s awake, but make no mistake about how dangerous he is,” John takes out a silvery flask and takes a swig before spraying from his lips half as much as he imbibed onto his hands, uttering nonsense until the catch blue flame, “Whether that dead bastard knows it or not he is Rotten to the core, an avatar of decay and an antithesis of life. Be glad he never touched you, Lane,”

The hands take up the rotting door and hold it up with some effort, burning away the spreading and screaming rot within. It reminds you of something a scientist once told your father while you were playing as a child and hiding beneath the desk in his study, on a theory that decay was an extant form of life, and it may be possible to weaponize. He answers your questions as you march your way down the stairs. About the dangers of magic, how for decades the ambient level of energies out in the world had been low, but some kind of rising tide was pulling every two bit conjurer to self diagnosed greatness and waking up the spooks and spectres out in the world. To say nothing of the demons.

Having gained significant insights into the Magical and Supernatural for your articles from your questions of John and his responsive lectures, you eventually reach the ground floor and emergency services throw shock blankets over your shoulders.

“OH SOD OFF!” John curses into one’s face, perhaps his patience with the day done.

Not that you blame him, but you don’t like his attitude. It surprises you when he proffers a card to you.

“Listen Lane, something tells me you aren’t the type to leave well enough alone,” he grumbles, “You’re gonna find yourself in magical trouble again one way or another and when that does happen and you need someone in your corner, well you can give me a call or an email,”

“Mr. Constantine, is this just an excuse to give me your phone number?”

“Maybe, I’m not a shy one all told. Though I’ve a few more to pass out today, the egghead was pretty easy on the eyes,” he smiles and begins to saunter away, “Be seeing you Ms. Lane, be seeing you because we’re the unlucky bastards to be living in interesting times,”
>>
>>4445903
You’re able to find Emil quickly enough. Entrusting him with the Lantern to study when he has the chance and promising to talk more to him about everything else later. He provides that the data he has to share with you will be ready in a few days, though his access laptop was destroyed everything he was providing was pulled from still intact S.T.A.R. Labs Metropolis Local Servers, not the remote access servers shared between S.T.A.R. Labs Facilities.

What proves more difficult is finding Clara in the crowd. The two got separated on the office level but he says he thinks he saw her breaking away among the rushing and panicked scientists a few floors beneath where his office had been.

With some effort and time getting through the crowd and extracting yourself from the attentions of EMS, a voice eventually catches your ear.

“Lois!” Clara cries out and waves you down from the outskirts, her clothes covered in building dust, but less than your’s still are.

“Smallville, there you are!” you close the distance to her, “What happened to you?”

“Got thrown into one of the labs during the smash, with theater seating. Wound up a few floors down and had no idea what was going on. Kind of had a panic in all the chaos,” she sighs, “What happened to you!?”

Hmmm, that checks out with what Superwoman said about her breathing into a bag; Kent did cover the Bialyan revolution, one would think she had nerves of steel until you consider the implications. Maybe that’s why she got out of war zone work despite how good she was at covering it, could she have PTSD?

...you saw enough soldiers with it over the years growing up on base. Well, that’s a secret you’ll keep to yourself for now.

“First an interview with a dead man, then an interview with Mr. Constantine,” you then smile broadly, “And I snagged an agreement for an interview with our mysterious Superwoman,”

Filling Smallville in on what happened, unable to really contain your excitement with her after you’ve kept the mask up for so long during the back and forth above.

“Wow, Lois,” Clara smiles and gently punches you in the shoulder with the arm she injured yesterday, ever the aloof tomboy it would seem, “You look like you’re on cloud nine. I guess the Superwoman story is your’s after all. Congratulations,”

“Plenty of byline to share, Smallville,” you can’t help but smile, “Though come on, it’s almost lunch and talking a dead man down from literal super violence has me starving,”

“Well, fleeing a building that feels like it was gonna collapse gives me the same feeling. Burger Fool or Big Belly Burger?” Clara questions in deep thought.

“How can you think of eating that junk?” you question.
>>
>>4445904
“I have an active lifestyle,” she quips, less aloof than earlier and flexes the arm, bandaging still visible as her sleeve falls back, “so I’ve never really had to worry about junk. Besides, I spent a lot of time on a farm, fast food is living a little for me,”

A few minutes earlier, in Gotham

Jimmy Olsen approaches an old man sitting on the edge of a short wooden pier in Slaughter Swamp, at the edge of the bustling urban madhouse that is Gotham City. He sits, hands and fists wrapped as though he were a boxer or a martial artist of some kind. There is a beer at his side and a fishing rod in his hands.

“Excuse me, are you the owner of Grant’s Gym?” Jimmy gestures to the building a few hundred yards behind him, “One of the trainers said I would find you out here,”

The old man looks over his shoulder at Jimmy over a furrowed brow before taking a swig of the open bottle of beer.

“Get lost kid, I’m on my lunch break,”

“I’m not a kid, I’m Jimmy Olsen and I’m a photojournalist with the Daily Planet. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your Gym’s founder,” Jimmy pleads after an initially assertive opening.

The old man huffs and wedges the handle of his fishing rod into a space hand cut in the plank beneath him meant for moments like these. Slowly, beer still in hand, he rises. Before he turns, he already looms over Jimmy Olsen. His presence seems larger than he actually is, as the world seems to dilate round Jimmy’s perception of the moment. There is a palpable aura of menace.

“You want to know about Ted Grant, kid?” he turns and looks at every part of what you’d expect of an older man who runs a Gym promoting boxing and mixed martial arts, “Why the hell would some Metropolis shutter jock be asking about Ted Grant? Is there some anniversary coming up, a retrospective on one of the old greats, to take pictures of the old relics on display in the gym? Digging up the dead for the sake of some news print filler that’ll just wind up being used to paper train some green pup or stack a school kid’s science project volcano?”

He continues to loom.

“You don’t want to know about Ted Grant, kid,” he snarls and turns back to face the swamp, “Now get lost!”

Jimmy stands there...at first afraid...but then defiant.

“No,” he says simply before shouting, “That’s not why I’m here!”

The old man pauses, there is something in the fire of Jimmy Olsen’s voice. Something that reminds him of a more hopeful and defiant time in his own life.

“I have questions about Ted Grant! About Jake Grant! About the HUAC hearings! About Yellow Wasp! About Argent! About Faraday! And about-,” Jimmy is shouting at Ted Grant now, neither seeing the approaching dot in the sky, “-about Wildcat and the JSA!”
>>
>>4445905
Jimmy breathes heavily, then takes a sharp inhale before squaring his shoulders and poking the ripped old guy in the chest.

“Kid,” he says more softly, “You back off of this chase. I guarantee you aren’t going to like what you eventually find. Let the dead stay-”

He is interrupted as a massive and hulking figure careens into the swamp and sends a wave of rapidly putrefying water washing over the pier and it’s occupants. The wave breaking on the old man’s back and cleanly missing Jimmy who had been standing in front of him.

“-dead?” the man questions as he turns.

Jimmy looks past him and sees a hulking figure in tattered black clothes and bloated corpse white skin.

“Why Grundy’s swamp clean?” it sniffs and frowns and stomps about in the water waving its arms wildly before recognizing the presence of Jimmy and the old man.

“BAD CAT CLEAN MY SWAMP!” it declares and charges the two.

The old man pushes Jimmy back, who had already taken up his camera and was snapping away at a most unexpected fight.

“You wanna know about Wildcat, kid?” the old man shouts over the din as he boxes and wrestles with the monster in the water, “Well you better get my good side!”

When the Superwoman arrives, apparently having followed the beast, it’s the old man’s warning to her about escalation and deescalation with Grundy that keeps her at bay. That she’s too strong and that’ll just make Grundy react all the stronger. She watches a few minutes until the old man gets the putrid corpse in a sleeper hold, illegal in most rings you imagine, and slowly rests the monster beneath the water.

“Damn it, I gotta start cleaning this place up all over again,” he grouses as he yells at the napping monster under water, “IT TOOK DECADES OF WORK BEFORE I COULD USE THIS SPOT TO FISH! YOU JUST HAD TO COME BACK AND RUIN IT!”

He kicks the slumbering giant, and then looks up to the Superwoman above and Jimmy Olsen back on the shore.

“We’re having a talk later, Supey, swing by the gym is open late!” he shouts to the sky before grabbing a fresh beer from his upturned cooler, “Alright kid, let’s talk about the Wildcat. I’m Ted Grant,”

Without a bottle opener, he rips off the cap that is decidedly not a twist off.

Back in Metropolis in the present

“I’m just saying that The Harlequin is a better burger mascot than Colonel Burgers,” Clara says as she carefully inspects her cheesemeister deluxe across the table, “Even if Big Belly Burger has better food than the Fool,”

“Is this a coping mechanism, Smallville? Cheat death then risk it again eating here?” you question to which she shrugs and takes a bite.

At least you can trust their hotdogs, they’re actually a step above the street meat usually available around Metropolis. A risque venture that you’re used to, but Big Belly Burger itself is just so...chain.
>>
>>4445906

“I guess I’m the type to live dangerously in the mundane,” she offers, pulling the earbud out of her ear and hitting stop on your cassette, “That was some great stuff. Makes me want to break off and see what I can gather up on a few of my own leads,”

“I thought we had agreed to safety in numbers?”

“Yeah...but I need a few hours to breath before we get met by Jimmy’s mystery informant,” she then offers you a conspiratorial look, “And I think you need to prep a bit for your exclusive interview tonight first,”

“First off, I can interview under any circumstances. I already know what I’m going to ask Superwoman, hell I just interviewed my way out of an early grave,” you snipe back a bit.

“Sorry, I was just trying to be-” she offers apologetically but is cut off as both of your phones go off in unison.

It's a text from Jimmy. Ted Grant is apparently alive, and he watched him get into a fist fight in Slaughter Swamp with a campfire story before telling Superwoman not to fight it because she’d just escalated matters. He’ll explain in more detail later. Has pictures.

“...what even are our lives anymore,” you wonder aloud and take a bite of your lunch.

“Interesting?” Clara smirks and grabs up her double choco cream milkshake.

She explains her plan to actually use her desk at the office to make some calls and start connecting some dots with her own contacts in law enforcement and at the federal level. Leaving you with a decision to make…

Lois Lane, what will you do?
>Go to the office and do preliminary writing on some of your articles.
>Go home and do preliminary writing on some of your articles.
>Make your own phone inquiries, you have several names and know your own contacts
>Find something to do to relax, maybe unwind from the chaotic mess before tonight
>You do want to make preparations for your interview tonight…
>Write in
>>
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>>4445913
>>Go to the office and do preliminary writing on some of your articles.
Get some work in now so we can focus on other things later.

Get work in now, nap on the ride to Gotham, meet mystery informant, get back, get cleaned up, and see how late the interview of the century can go.
>>
>>4445913
>Make your own phone inquiries, you have several names and know your own contacts
>Find something to do to relax, maybe unwind from the chaotic mess before tonight
Not sure which one I want more
>>
>>4445940
The Gotham informant is coming to you. They said they would find you.
>>
>>4445953
Alright, saves us a step then.
>>
>>4445913
>>Go to the office and do preliminary writing on some of your articles.
>>
>>4445913
>>Go to the office and do preliminary writing on some of your articles.
>>
>>4445913
>>You do want to make preparations for your interview tonight…
>>
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“I should head back to the office too,” you reason and sip your coffee, “I need to get started on writing some of today’s business and the general state of what we’ve gotten so far,”

“Sounds like a plan, I’m curious what Jimmy’s gonna bring back with him from Gotham,” she dives into her sandwich anew before clarifying, “You know, the meat of it besides what little teases he’s sent our way,”

“I’m practically on the edge of my seat,” she sighs, “Okay. I’ll agree with you that The Harlequin is a better mascot than Colonel Burgers. Their social media is also, haughtily, on point,”

“Yes!” she cheers to herself, “As I settle into my desk this afternoon I am going to savor that victory,”

“A dose of the mundane, not lived dangerously,” you point out, “is well earned after all we’ve been through and what we still have ahead tonight,”

“Mysterious meetings, your exclusive, yeah it’s gonna be a hell of a night,” she nods, “I’m excited,”

The trip back to the office is easy, Perry is bellowing across the city desk offices about this, that, and the other thing. Calming him down, noting you’ve struck gold on multiple fronts, you set off to start writing. First the Solomon Grundy story, for near immediate publication, with photos sent to you by Jimmy from his own encounter with the brute. It's a short piece, covering the attack on S.T.A.R. Labs, the existence of magic and it’s dangers, and how after being talked down the brute leapt all the way to north Jersey from Midtown New Troy Island.

It ends on the notation of being met by a vigilante long thought dead but once active in the 1930’s, and earlier makes allusions to Grundy’s hunt for an old foe cut from the same cloth. It’s an accounting of the ridiculous attack and a preview about your research into the JSA. Flatly stating in no uncertain terms that the Superwoman isn’t the first Wonder that has graced the world and that an age of clandestine Mysterymen was halted by HUAC hearings in the 50’s.

The article promises a complete expose on those forgotten vigilantes and ‘metahumans’. It also promises your imminent exclusive interview with the Superwoman.

It was a quick write, probably a long read, and you sent it over to Perry’s editorial queue with the press of a button.

“LANE!” he barks from his office, “Just once could you write an opening sentence without forgetting how to spell ‘the’?”
>>
>>4448224

Perry will be on you in a few minutes once he actually finishes the article’s edit. He’ll demand if and what you can back up. Then probably ask how the hell you managed to get an interview with the Superwoman.

As you’ve been typing away, Clara has been hitting the phones pretty hard. Pen in hand and yellow notepad in front of her she seems a flurry of activity and chatter. You watch a moment to get how she works, and it’s a pretty solid and professional tone with her phone work. Though as you get to watching her you realize she gets up frequently to take short breaks. Still you’ve managed to get a lot of your foundation set for oncoming articles but there’s still more you could do.

Lois Lane, for the rest of the afternoon do you
>focus entirely on the preliminary writing & organizing
>are ahead of the curve, daydream a bit about tonight’s interview
>study Clara’s work style, get a better feel for future rivalry
>get caught up on the news you haven’t been reporting
>see what’s been popping on social media about Superwoman and superheroes
>You have a DEEPLY entrenched military contact you COULD call...but should you?
>You never got a science quote about Superwoman from Emil and he’s busy...you could call Lex?
>Write in
>>
>>4448228
>>get caught up on the news you haven’t been reporting
>>
>>4448228
>get caught up on the news you haven’t been reporting
>see what’s been popping on social media about Superwoman and superheroes
I feel like there's more than a little overlap between these 2.
>>
>>4448228
>>4448261

I can back this.
>>
>>4448228
>are ahead of the curve, daydream a bit about tonight’s interview
>get caught up on the news you haven’t been reporting
>see what’s been popping on social media about Superwoman and superheroes
>>
>>4448228
>>get caught up on the news you haven’t been reporting
>>see what’s been popping on social media about Superwoman and superheroes
Dr. Erdel's death caught us by surprise, better see what else is cropping up.

If time after that, then spend remainder to
>>focus entirely on the preliminary writing & organizing
>>
>>4448228
>>get caught up on the news you haven’t been reporting
>>see what’s been popping on social media about Superwoman and superheroes
>>
Well, it looks like you're getting caught up on news you haven't been reporting. And seeing what is generally showing up on the social media bout Superwoman and superheroes in general.

Writing
>>
Well, it’s your prerogative to get caught up on the news and current events you weren’t specifically reporting on. Tabbing over from your processor over to your browser, you sort through the headlines of your paper, your competition, and Galaxy Media to get a handle on what’s what.

The fallout of your story on the 3 District Judges has put the heat on Bruno Manheim, refusing to comment on the matter and continuing to claim a lack of involvement with the scope of Metropolis gangland.

There have been several Superwoman sightings and saves this afternoon after the incident at S.T.A.R. Labs, including putting out a fire on the New Jersey Turnpike on her way back from Gotham and sporadic appearances across the city since. Talking down a jumper, stopping an armed robbery, and racing a strange heart attack victim to Metropolis General.

...the photo has this victim half looking like the mummified corpse that showed up last week.

The Kaznian diplomatic envoy had a publicized meeting today with the District Senator Henry Ballard, hosted by Lex Luthor. Apparently your ex has been making plays into being a political broker of some kind, you sneer to yourself at the ambitions behind it and his want for power. More than that, despite the disastrous flight Lex continues to make aerospace inroads and is pitching military development contracts.

Though you talked him up in your article, Charles Brown has publicly parted ways with the Lex Corp AeroSpace Division with a generous severance package. As you expected he’s probably buried under NDA, a few years of Non Compete, and Proprietary Tech orders. You honestly hope he and his kid manage well. Maybe Ferris will try to scoop him up down the line?

Three groups of protection racket enforcers for the 100 Gang in Suicide Slum were very publicly taken down by vigilantes in broad daylight. Two of them were brought low by the Black Lightning, and from the photos of the events you aren’t sure if he’s a metahuman or his electrical powers come from his circuitously covered lightning patterned bodysuit as he is described of fluid martial takedowns when not lighting things up. The other group was taken out in an all out brawl on the south side around the same time by the appropriately named Gang Buster, a fellow in brown padded armor and by the description a boxer who isn’t exceptionally light on his feet.

Governments around the world commenting or not commenting on Superwoman. Accusations of illegal human experimentation or otherworldly influences over the matter are flying in the international sphere against America for this sudden appearance. Surprisingly it’s an official statement from the Chinese Politburo that seems to say they do not believe this Superwoman to be a product of any American Government “Super-functionary” program; and that many in the world are overreacting to a truly wondrous time in history. Which gives you significant pause.
>>
>>4449255
The usual crackpots claim they will have a Superhuman twice as strong as the American Superwoman by year’s end.

A number of Batman sightings last night in Gotham; rather multiple and repeat sightings of a stylized custom vehicle, decidedly not street legal and with significant and near impossible military spec of technology driving through main throughways of the city in a car chase with bird masked mobsters hanging out of town cars firing machine guns at it. No loss of life attributed to the chase, but the car had rockets?

There’s a missing archeologist in Peru; that’s made international news, Adam Strange vanished from a mountaintop in the midst of a storm after being pinned under a collapsing ruin in a sudden burst of light and thunder.

Ivy Town Professor Ray Palmer on the cusp of revolutionizing physics with his publication on light wavelengths being able to displace mass. Or at least shrink the empty space between the particles that make up matter.

The senior field staff of a not for profit maritime rescue training and operations group based in Japan, Waveman, were all lost at sea during an emergency operation off the coast of Okinawa during an unexpected series of collisions. Their primary underwriter, who also sits on their board, at the Okata Group, is said to be considering disbandment of a group against the wishes of the only remaining internal successor Riki Kimura.

Switching gears to social media, people can’t stop talking about Superwoman. Their hopes for what this means for the future, their fears at what happens when someone so powerful doesn’t want to help. Chattering about the dangers of the sightings of the monster that attacked S.T.A.R. Labs. People making maps of possible meta sightings over the past few years.

The internet is awash with discussion and disinformation. Truth and lies and sightings forming an intricate web. Some people speculate that the Central City Flash has slowed himself down once or twice since the Superwoman went public just to let people grab a few snapshots of him. Looking at the instagram shared action photos the back of his body seems to bleed into the blur in his wake, though the wing tipped cowl looks a little weird. At least Black Lightning posed a bit for folks on the street before absconding.

There’s actually a video of Black Lighting talking to some kids who witnessed one of his fights earlier. It's a vertical cellphone video of the man kneeling down to the level of the kid filming. Telling them to stay in school and don’t do drugs, through an electrically distorted voice.

People are an interesting mix of hopeful and scared...good to know. That can inform your interview going forward.
>>
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>>4449257
Oh, another Superwoman appearance? This time lifting a ship out of Hobb’s bay, slamming it into drydock, and ripping open the side to reveal an illegal weapons shipment. Looking up you want to call over to Clara’s desk that the Superwoman just barged her way into her smuggling story.

“Hey Smallville, you see-”

Except, she and a large amount of the office aren’t there. There’s an extra file folder on the side of your desk. A note saying you seemed absorbed so they’ll meet up with you after your interview. It’s what she got off the phones and her contacts, typed and written. The sun is starting to hang low and orange in the sky out of the windows on the west side of the open concept space.

“She finally comes up for oxygen,” Perry comments and drops a paper on your desk, your article on Solomon Grundy made the evening edition...you’re a little surprised he didn’t march up and start reaming you out for talking about occultism and magic, “Kent went to pickup Olsen at the ferry terminal,”

“You’re running this, Chief?” you question in uncertainty as you scan the article and find only your spelling corrected, “No pushback? No complaint? No accusations of being out of my gord?”

“I ran it 35 minute ago, Lane. The week we’ve had so far, I’m not gonna waste time asking the wrong questions,” he sighs, “So, what’s this about an exclusive with Superwoman?”

“She agreed to it. Tonight,” you offer, “I was just getting caught up on current events and the general tone of things beforehand,”

“Well don’t hold yourself up on my account, and if you can get me the article before 4am it can make the morning edition,” he yawns, “I’m gonna grab a nap and be on standby to check your writing by hand if I have to,”

It's getting late, time to put yourself under open sky…

Lois, where do you go to wait for the Superwoman?
>Roof of the Daily Planet
>Outside on the front steps of the Daily Planet
>the roof or fire escape of your apartment across town
>St. Martins Park, on this island
>Glenmorgan Square in the heart of New Troy Island, you want this seen
>Write in
>>
>>4449260
>Roof of the Daily Planet
>>
>>4449260
>>Roof of the Daily Planet
>>
>>4449260
>>Roof of the Daily Planet
>>
>>4449260
>Glenmorgan Square in the heart of New Troy Island, you want this seen
>>
>>4449260
>>Roof of the Daily Planet
>>
>>4449260
>>the roof or fire escape of your apartment across town
Get cleaned up and ready to go.

Or if we do roof of the Daily Planet, I trust Lane to be prepared enough to have some supplies for freshening up handy.
>>
>>4449255
>racing a strange heart attack victim to Metropolis General.
>...the photo has this victim half looking like the mummified corpse that showed up last week.
Parasite?
> There’s a missing archeologist in Peru
> Cheetah?
>>4449260
>Roof of the Daily Planet
>>
Rolled 3, 2 + 1 = 6 (2d6 + 1)

Good point, getting cleaned up may be something worth considering where ever you go between...yesterday's clothes, a splash of Clara's blood, debris from STAR Labs, and extended proximity to Solomon Grundy and Constantine's cigarette.

Rolling act under pressure
>>
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>>4449889
>>
Bump
>>
>>4449969
Is that from the Superdictionary?
>>
>>4449986
I’m a writing, having dinner, and then about to start a scheduled call about doing some Return to Ivalice content.

On the bright side. That marks 5 experience so next update includes a Lois Level Vote besides the whole Krypton bombshell.

There is a double entendre in that statement.>>4449986
>>
Briefly you consider heading out to Glenmorgan Square, be seen meeting the Superwoman in the busiest place in Metropolis, make yourself become the story to show beyond a shadow of a doubt you had this interview...but no. Rather you’ll do something discreet. Heading for the stairwell you divert course to pop into the bathroom to check yourself over.

You’re wearing yesterday’s clothes, but had been able to grab a shower at Clara’s while you were camped out and working there on the deep research. Though today your jacket, blouse, and pants are still a little covered in both debris from the incident at S.T.A.R. Lab’s earlier, a few small stains from Clara’s blood and dried bonding spray from when you helped dress her wound, and the lingering odor you’d become nose blind too from your proximity to Solomon Grundy. To say nothing of the lingering scent of that chimney smoking magician.

Lois Lane Act Under Pressure to freshen up: 6. Failed. Lois Lane Marks 1 Experience. Lois Lane can level up and reset Experience counter to Zero

...okay, you’ll just have to go as is. At least you’re otherwise still made up. Though that deserves a little extra touch up. The rest...the rest you can’t even deal with right now. In fact there are still bits of debris in your hair.

You’ve really been going hard the past two days and while you think you can get the dried blood from yesterday out of this jacket and blouse with a club soda from the break room the dried medical bond isn’t going to be as forgiving. To say nothing of how long it would take to dry those spots under the hand dryer here. At least making sure to get some of the remaining debris and dust out of your hair and stopping back at your desk for a quick spray of something to try and mask the smell of everything. Emphasis on try.

No...no you are still a mess and this drops like a stone in the pit of your stomach. She saw you like this earlier and your workaholic procedures have precluded you from doing anything about it because you had to keep working.

Well, time to face the music. You’ve earned this interview and you’re not going to miss it or delay it now.

Climbing the stairs with certain impending feelings of doom you push them down and focus entirely on the more important matters at hand. The interview. The questions you’ll ask. And what you’ll do with the answers.

You arrive while the oranges and reds of sunset are reflecting off of the still turning Daily Planet Globe atop the old art deco building. For over one hundred years it has stood as a promise of news to the world, and today you intend to keep that promise.
>>
>>4450115
You wait there, in the wind of the altitude for several minutes before you catch sight of her on approach in the sky. She lands with a solemnity and focus before you, her scarf continuing to catch in the present wind of the skyscraper’s height.

“Good evening Ms. Lane,” The superwoman smile, eyes shimmering in the changing light enough to catch glimpses of the iridescence you’ve seen there before, “I’m here for our interview,”

There is an uncertainty and a nervousness hidden by her present confidence, just beneath her smile. The woman of steel has steeled her nerves for something uncertain.

“Alright, basic questions first. How and why?” you sigh, she hasn’t said anything about your general state so you’ll count that as a small blessing, “Any of it, the powers and using them to help people like this,”

The Superwoman is quiet, taking her hands off of her hips and sitting on the lip of the roof still facing you.

“My physiology isn’t quite like your’s. I can do the things I do because...this is going to take some explanation and I hope you’re up to it,” she sighs, “I hope you’ll believe me, because even after what I’m sure you’ve seen in the past few days it’ll sound a little outlandish,”

She’s playing it off as a concern but there is an excitement to her under what she wants to tell you?

Superwoman remembers what you said to Emil. How did she hear that? What? Uh...Super Hearing? What, no that’d make you sound like a stalker...and you’re not about to explain that

“I’m not...I’m not from here,” she says simply and looks out at the setting sun, stretching out her hand to it and splaying her fingers to bask in the light, she doesn’t squint or flinch but stares directly into it, “And it's because I’m not from here that I can do the things I do,”

“I’m not sure I follow entirely what you mean. Would you care to elaborate?”

“...I’m a refugee. An orphan of a tragedy that years later I still can’t comprehend,” she sighs and breathes deeply, “I’m not from Earth, and I’m probably one of the last of my species,”

“I...see,” you have to play this cool.

The Superwoman is an alien. You’re interviewing your scoop of the century and it's also something you’ve really wanted to do since you were a small child. Suddenly this impossibly powerful figure, to your active if exhausted imagination, may as well be done up in a Roswell Gray themed onesie like you had your little sister Lucy do when you roped her into playing an alien for you to interview as a kid.

You will play this coolly.

Lois’s Lane has already lost skepticism toward the extra terrestrial, so her excitement about this prospect was tied to the Act Under Pressure role from before…

“Please, continue,”
>>
>>4450117
“My name is Kara Zor-El, and by the hand of my family defying generations of tradition and law I was spared the extinction of our people and death of our planet, Krypton,” The Superwoman tells her tale to you, the child of scientists whose apocalyptic discovery was ignored by the leaders of an advanced yet, to the tune of her bitter retelling, declining civilization.

Of a generations old means of keeping their people planet bound after earlier abandoned forays into space exploration, and the breaking of laws hewn into their genetics to overcome that ban to see herself and another child of her family saved. The names of her parents. The names of her aunt and uncle. The desperation of time only to be able to save her and their child.

“The death of our world was my Uncle’s discovery, he presented his findings and the prototype stasis device designed to overcome the Eradicator...the thing which killed any who left the planet, by converting components of our society’s social corrective system to the ruling council...but was denied and told to abandon such pessimistic thinking. I only heard secondhand. With almost no time they managed to retrofit the prototype to a working model,”

She sits fully now, looking up to you with a sadness in her eyes.

“Together, all four of them were brilliant. They did it with moments to spare...but it was so small and they had known while working that it wasn’t meant for them. They didn’t tell me the plan until it was time. Volcanic fissures opening up in the city, a world dying around us as our star began to collapsed above, I was strapped into it as a child with my infant cousin secured in a smaller harness between my arms,”

She seems haunted. It takes you out a small bit of your excitement as you sit down next to her.

“They left us messages in the rocket. Warnings, instructions, and so many other things...but we could still see. I could still see the world die beneath you and explode before stasis took effect,”

She explains it in broad strokes. That they landed years ago, were taken in and protected, and she has always done what she could to help others but was always afraid of exposure. That she lost one home, and as she is now she’ll do anything in her power to protect this one.

“Well, could everyone on Krypton do the things you can do?” you question in uncertainty, “Or was this a byproduct of bypassing, you called it the Eradicator?”
>>
>>4450119
“Krypton was a larger world, our sun was a red giant before the end. I’ve an organic density greater than a human’s by a ridiculous factor and that makes my inherent strength and resilience significant. Though it’s augmented by your sun, it supercharges my physiology and it gives me abilities that I can explain scientifically as the subconscious manipulation of inertia, but it's cooler to say things like Super Strength or Super Vision I guess. I can freeze things with my breath, I can hear the constant din of noise across the city, I can see through most materials and at great magnification, I’m faster than a speeding bullet, I can project stored solar energy as heat or slightly concussive heat from my eyes, and I’m invul- I’m nigh-invulnerable,”

“Admitting to weakness, doesn’t really fit the confidence and bravado,” you offer.

“Well, I’m trying to be honest. I’m just a strange visitor who wants to help people because I couldn’t help before. I survived and I want to live up to the sacrifices my family made,” she says, “One person, one plane, one natural disaster at a time if I have too,”

“Well, at least our world isn’t ending right now. I remember when I was a kid and how much everyone was worried about Global Warming. Predictions of extreme weather and ocean levels rising. If you grew up through some of that doom and gloom it couldn’t have been easy,” you offer.

She looks...not guilty, but smug and satisfied.

“I mean, I’ve run the math about heat and radiation trapping by the greenhouse effect. I’m pretty sure just by being here my Solar Battery body has helped offset that...and I may have been periodically suring up the ice sheets on the poles as a heat sink with a few huffs and puffs. They were definitely in decline though,” she laughs and snapes a finger at you, “So...give my apologies to the former Vice President I guess, but he was right,”

“So...what changed? Why step out into the world?” you question.

“Because if I didn’t act then, people would die. It was deciding whether or not to stay a secret or be exposed, I knew I had to take the risk. Fast as I am, I’ve never been close enough to stop an accident like that one. At least, not without cover of darkness to let a missile hit me or- I’m getting off track. I don’t want people to be afraid, I just want to help, this is paying forward a kindness done for me and I guess its coping with trauma. I can’t just put the world in a bottle so I gotta just go for trying to save it,”
>>
>>4450120

Lois Lane, you’re interviewing an alien. Processing most of what she said

Answer each one. Give me some reasoning to work with.
>How do you react to information? Skeptical, overly excited, analytical?
>How do you react to her? In acceptance or scrutiny?
>What do you want to press her on in continuing this interview, or is this enough?

Lois Lane Level Up, Google Monster of the Week’s Snoop Playbook, Expert playbook to look at Haven, and the list of other playbook names within thematic reason if you want to take a move from another playbook. If you choose another Snoop Move or a Move from another playbook, we’ll use that list in a subsequent vote

Choose One Improvement

>Get +1 Charm, max +3
>Get +1 Cool, max +2
>Get +1 Sharp, max +3
>Get +1 Weird, max +2
>Take another Snoop move
>Gain an ally, possibly one of your existing crew members or the whole crew as an ally team
>Get a haven, like the Expert has, with one option plus a film lab
>Take a move from another playbook, Name the Playbook?
>>
>>4450123

Lois Lane Current Sheet

Name Lois Lane, The Snoop
Look; Trim bodied Woman in a Stylish Suit
Rating
-Charm: +2
-Cool: +1
-Sharp: +1
-Weird: -1

Snoop Moves:

I’m A Reporter!: When you Investigate a Mystery by talking to witnesses, interviewing locals, or anything else requiring interpersonal skills, roll +Charm instead of +Sharp.

Relaxed Producer: You’re Employed, with a regular paycheck and little or no oversight. As long as you send in a story every few days, no matter how bizarre, you’re set. Every now and again they’ll send you somewhere in particular, and when that happens it usually involves supernatural activity. Unless they need human interest, in which case it will be a kitten show or agricultural fair or something.

Minor Celebrity: At the beginning of each mystery, roll +Weird. On a 10+ hold 2 and on a 7-9 hold 1. Spend your hold during the mystery to have someone you meet know of you in a positive light (maybe they read your blog, listen to your podcast, or watch your internet/tv show, etc). You may end up getting asked for autographs or given “hot” leads, too.
>>
>>4450123
>>How do you react to information? Skeptical, overly excited, analytical?
Overly excited. Regardless of how much the last few days of stripped us of preconceived notions we are interviewing an alien. We are going to be breaking the news of intelligent life coming from beyond the solar system. This may be the article of our career.

I don't know what I would vote for for the other two so I will leave other people to come up with them.
>>
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>>4450123
>Answer each one. Give me some reasoning to work with.
>>How do you react to information? Skeptical, overly excited, analytical?
Analytical, try to breakdown and examine the info, get a handle on it. Sure, also excited, but gotta keep it together. Totally not giving that away with an increased heartbeat an alien could hear.. She can totally hear that can't she?
>>How do you react to her? In acceptance or scrutiny?
Trust, but verify. Her story is good, and if true it is also amazing.
>>What do you want to press her on in continuing this interview, or is this enough?
Doesn't do her or us any good if we softball this interview.
Give her the worried questions that are going to echo in the back of some people's minds.
What does she think about us, I mean humanity?
While we really appreciate the rescue, how does she feel about being a vigilante? Above the law?
..for that matter, about being, presumably, an undocumented immigrant? (we'll leave out the easy 'illegal alien' phrasing)
What are her feelings toward US, I mean the United States?
What's your cousin's feelings on all this? Assuming he has the same abilities.
>>
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>>4450123
Looking through, three choices stand out to me:
>Get +1 Charm, max +3
That'll max out a key reporting tool.

>Gain an ally, possibly one of your existing crew members or the whole crew as an ally team
Not entirely sure what it means in game terms, even after skimming through the book, but taking our crew as an ally seems like an idea.

>Take a move from another playbook, Name the Playbook?
Saw two that looked useful.
The Mundane's "What Could Go Wrong?", which would play well into the tendency to charge after dangerous stories.
&
The Flake's Suspicious Mind, knowing when we are lied to.

If all that poking at the Brownstone had turned out it was up for grabs, I suppose I'd put Haven on here too.. though not a bad idea, I wonder if designating the Daily Planet as our haven would help keep it intact?

Thoughts on these ideas? I'm a bit scattered to lock in an improvement vote just yet.
>>
>>4450123
>How do you react to information?
Analytical. This might be an exciting time, but we are a reporter and this is an interview. Better do this by the books.
>How do you react to her?
Accepting of her, but critical of any info she gives us. We need them hard facts and shit!
>What do you want to press her on in continuing this interview
Her origins, her time on earth, her intentions, does she have any intention to work with official goverment channels of law enforcement.
>>
>>4450123
>>4450476
Oh and What Could Go Wrong? is pretty fitting for our Lane so I'll go with that as >>4450195
suggested.
>>
>>4450123
>>How do you react to information?
excited
>>How do you react to her?
curious
>>What do you want to press her on in continuing this interview, or is this enough?
supporting >>4450157

>>Get +1 Weird, max +2
>>
>>4450123
>>How do you react to information? Skeptical, overly excited, analytical?
analytical
>>How do you react to her? In acceptance or scrutiny?
acceptance
>Get +1 Sharp, max +3
>>
Your intental reaction to these revelations are more than a bit excited, but you do your best to keep up an entirely analytical mind on these matters. This interview is literally going to be remembered as the one that makes your career, who cares about intergang anymore.

Somewhere, Bruno Manheim Jr. meets with his superiors to discuss matters of escalation

It tenses you, and despite the straight face you manage to keep in this you cannot help but wonder if she can hear your heartbeat. Hear how it’s racing through all of this and that not one ounce of the gravity of the situation has been lost on you. You want to trust the Superwoman, you want to accept her, and you want to do right here and because of that you can’t softball this.

There are hard questions you need to ask because others are going to, and they are going to be merciless.

That’s the way of the world.

You don’t get to ask them, as much of a privilege and an honor as it is to be conducting the first media interview with an extra terrestrial there is something burdensome to this.

She scrutinizes you as you calm yourself down, and tighten your features. She must have seen or heard you in this mode of operations before with Grundy.

An advanced alien world, warnings of imminent disaster met with innaction by leadership? Seems far fetched, though the slowness to action on the environment when you were a kid leaves some obvious parallels. Before you lay into her with questions you need to think.

Is there a selfishness to their family actively trying to save their children alone after not being listened to? She grew up in a physically harsher environment than her species was meant for, does that mean the other kid who grew up here won’t have the same baseline to build off of as she did? Is she dense enough to be bullet proof or was that a matter of passive inertial dampening or absorption? What did she mean by ‘social corrective system’, and how does it relate to the overcoming the Eradicator she mentioned?

A civilization in decline if advanced, actually you don’t want to think too hard on what a social corrective system is. There are obvious overtones in her bitterness toward it and her reticence. You just need to think about the Sesame Credit system being test run in China and wonder about how long something like that will take to be tried out here to take full advantage of social media and social control. And that their society had this Eradicator that kept them on the planet despite the technology from interstellar travel, that was also something telling.

The dead world of this woman’s past was no Utopia. This world isn’t a Utopia either, but she seems less concerned with that than saving people. There is more here, and you might press on it later.


She’s saved your life more than once, and because of that you’ll trust her and accept her at her words, but you’re going to need hard facts. You’re going to need evidence.
>>
>>4451720
“I believe you, but as of now I can only present that as your word. I’m sure your understanding of the science of your powers will be hotly debated and put to the test ahead, but I can only present most of that as hearsay,” you hum to yourself.

“Do you want to see a rocket ship sometime?” she questions with a smile, “I’ll show the recordings there, but with the unverifiability of otherworldly tech I imagine that might not hold up in a court of law,”

“No, but it’ll hold up for public scrutiny to back you later. I’d love to see it sometime,” you smile in return before your face becomes serious, there are questions to be asked, “What do you think of us, what do you think of humanity?”

She’s quiet for a moment in thought.

“I’ve seen the worst of you and I’ve seen the best of you since landing, I’ve spent about half of my life here and it's where I could actually ask the questions critically about what I thought was right or wrong. I never got to ask those questions back on or of my homeworld but I know enough of it’s history to see parallels and,” she sighs, “I think people are people, in shape and psychology Humanity versus Kryptonian are very similar. I’ll always feel like an outsider, and I’m worried about what people will think of me once this comes out, but as far as the people I have my bonds with already at least I’m happy to call the Earth home,”

“How do you feel about being a vigilante?” you question, “As an outsider do you see yourself above the law?”

“Wow, that’s a nice one coming from you there,” she laughs in an infectious way, throwing her head back, “Brea- no, I just stood there and got shot at, maybe protected myself with a bit of heat vision on her gun, but you clocked that guy in the head and told me not to let your would be killer escape,”

“You’ve stopped muggings as well before this,” you offer in rebuttal, “Though admittedly I’m thankful for the rescue,”

“I’m not looking for a fight if I can avoid it. I witnessed those folks being a threat to others and maybe did a little vigilantism after the self defense was done. I don’t know if I’m outside the law, I don’t know if there are laws covering everything I can do yet. Did I break the law catching the plane? Okay I may have violated a few airspace rules to do that but I admit I’d do it again in a second. I’m always going to try and act in the interest of what I think is right,” she squares her shoulders where she sits and adjusts her jacket, “As for the muggings, I mostly just told them to drop it and scorched the sidewalk a little. Once or twice maybe some minor property damage for effect,”

She’s not being flippant so much as honest.

“Like the trash cans?” you smile as she frowns and looks askance.
>>
>>4451721
“...yeah,” she sighs and returns to meet your gaze, “I’m still figuring out how I’m doing this. Or what it is I’m even doing here besides just trying to do something good,”

“Getting deeper into the matter of the law, presumably you are an undocumented immigrant?” you lay the obvious one out that people will be asking.

“I am,” she says with certainty, “I was sent here as a minor with no choice. Now that I’m out I could probably just claim asylum, though that’ll depend if the government considers a sapient alien life form from another planet a person,”

“I see you’ve given it some thought at least,” you offer her.

“I mean...yeah I have,” she stretches out a bit against the lip of the roof, raising a hand to play with the now parallel beams of sun and shadow reaching a redder tone.

Does she feel the flow of sunlight in more than just heat? Is it like a gentle breeze to her super senses and ability to absorb and possibly metabolize its energy?

“What are your feelings towards the U.S?” you lean in on this one, you know she’s lived here so far and has thought about acquiring an asylum seeker status.

“It’s been home. I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to just explore this world once I learned how to manage my flight and speed, but this is where my family is. For it’s faults and my belief in it’s promises, right now it’s home,” she meets your gaze seriously.

“Just how long have you been here?”

“Ten years, give or take a few,” she shrugs, “Give someone like you any narrower a date range and I’m sure you’ll be snooping around my foster family’s trash by the end of the week,”

“You’re right about that,” you snicker with a bit of your own bravado, “Now it’ll just take two,”

“Well then maybe I’ll have to stalk you now to keep you off the trail,” there is a brashness to that as she laughs and stands herself up to again watch the setting sun, “I’m kidding,”

“Well, since you brought him back up, what are your cousin’s feelings on all this? Does he have the same abilities?”

“He’s young, not even as old as I was yet when we lost everything,” you catch a wistful look on her face, “It doesn’t even feel right calling him my cousin anymore honestly. He’s only known one world and this place, and together we broke things to him slowly. Otherwise he’s co- he’s dyed in the wool on being here. He was so excited when I finally...he’s a very good boy and I’ve no doubt he’ll try to run at this before he can even walk now that I’ve taken the first steps,”

She turns from the sun back to you and flexes one of her arms.
>>
>>4451722
“Though, like I said he grew up here from infancy. I don’t know how that’ll effect his Solar abilities in the long term but it means he’s only ever known this baseline for gravity and environment,” there is something briefly familiar in the way she’s carrying herself right now, “But, not accounting for that he’s still by reflex, toughness, and strength above human peak...though I’m not sure about Metahuman peak,”

“I take it you took a look around the Brownstone?”

“Briefly, and it gave me a few ideas,” you look a bit serious, “And I’ll admit I caught a bit of the Allan Scott recording. It cemented a few of them,”

“Is this going to lead to some kind of cooperation with Government and Law Enforcement through official channels,” you wonder aloud.

“That’ll depend on their response to my existence,” she considers before becoming distracted by something and starting to rise into the air, “I need to go, I’m needed Ms. Lane,”

“Before you go,” you offer one last question, “Why the ‘S’?”

“It’s the crest of my family. Of the house of El. It only looks like an S in passing, it’s more like your medieval livery I guess. On Krypton it meant hope,” she offers before leaning off into the darkness.

You go downstairs. Analyzing what she said. Your excitement is palpable and the sun hasn’t even finished setting before you replay the recording for yourself and begin writing. Going over everything you’ve learned you do this matter justice, you want to believe in her. So you write at the speed your mind makes connections.

It hasn’t been dark for very long before shadows fall on either side of you.

“Wow Ms. Lane, is this your exclusive?” Jimmy asks looking over your document as Clara cracks open a Soder on your other side.

“Yeah, how’d the interview go?” she questions, “And did you get my notes from earlier?”

“Interview went...I think it went well, but I haven’t had a chance to crack open your notes yet, Smallville. Sorry,” you offer as you continue typing.

“Wait, there’s another Super?” Jimmy wonders aloud scanning over your open document.

“Haven’t decided between calling him Superboy or Superlad yet. If I go with lad that’ll just be a middle finger to Cat over the whole girl power thing from before she was trying to sell but I don’t want to be that petty,” you muse to yourself before finishing the paragraph.

“Wait, Alien? Superwoman is an alien?” Jimmy gasps at the screen.

“So, what happened in Gotham?” you question the red headed photographer.
>>
>>4451723
“So much,” he says simply and is torn away in exhaustion from his sudden reeling at the revelation of extraterrestrial life, “Ted Grant is alive. Alan Scott wrote clauses into his will for his disappearance under scrutiny and recording to confirm they were in fact his wishes. King Faraday was the director of Argent and hunted vigilantes and metahumans who didn’t keep their heads down or get with the program,”

“And I was able to confirm the continued existence of Argent’s successor programs that Ted Grant apparently identified to Jimmy,” Clara spins the tab on the can before sticking a straw through it into the Soder, “The Department of Extranormal Affairs and Argus. Plus some organizations that dealt somewhat in the same field as Argent at the same time; the American Security Agency and the Inter-Agency Defense Command. The IADC is long mothballed, but the ASA is still active alongside Argus and the DEO,”

She sips and offers a smile as she adjusts her glasses. There is a brief annoyance on her face as she glances over to the stairwell and then out the window before she sighs.

“I can get some more details by tomorrow. What he has from Ted has given us more than a few fresh leads,”

You nod.

“Alright then, now Jimmy what about your informant,” you question.

As Jimmy opens his mouth to answer, the fluorescent lights above all go dark. You are only left with the illumination of your computer screen between the three of you.

“If this isn’t an intergang hit squad, this is probably them,” Jimmy offers in the dark.

Well, if that’s true then this is more than a little melodramatic.

Some of the lights at the edge of the room flicker back on, outlining that a fourth figure stands on the edge of the room, near an open window of this observation deck style room. This silhouette is cowled in a similar manner to the Central City’s Flash...except instead of little wings on the side of his hooding there are vertical protrusions that seem reminiscent of the spiking ears of a bat. It rises from a crouched position to their full height.

“No, it’s definitely the informant,” Jimmy gulps.

“Mr. Olsen has had a very busy few days, and it would seem so have you,” the distorted voice sounds as it slowly approaches, fading into and out of the dark, “And while I can provide further evidence and insight on both the activities of the ASA and Argus, I am afraid the DEO has kept their noses out of Gotham,”
>>
>>4451724
I’m not even going to be cute here. Who is under this cowl, not that you’ll know yet
>Early in career Bruce Wayne in a style to be determined
>Late Career Bruce Wayne in a style to be determined
>Bruce Wayne as played on Titans by the GoT guy
>Bryce Wayne as if played by Charlize Theron
>Helena Wayne, no actress I’d like to ascribe here
>Thomas Wayne, strapped no matter what outfit you pick
>Jean Paul-Valley (this does not perma lock in Az-bats at this time)

Thematically, this Bat in passing is...
>Spooky
>Intimidating
>Serious
>So Serious
>Edgey
>Some Camp
>Scary

The Look of the suit
>Blue Grey and Midnight Blue
>All Black
>Black and Gray
>Black and Red

The make and model
>Fabric, all agility
>Nomex Survival Suit
>Kevlar & etc lined fabric
>Looks like rubber, but isn’t
>Bleeding edge textured material
>Armor

And most importantly
>How does Lois react to Batman?
>>
>>4451725
>I’m not even going to be cute here. Who is under this cowl, not that you’ll know yet
Late Career Bruce Wayne in a style to be determined
>Thematically, this Bat in passing is...
Ever see Brave and the Bold?
I want that shit.
>The Look of the suit
All Black, as it should be.
>The make and model
Kevlar & etc lined fabric
>And most importantly
Cautious but emotionally flexible. Ready to hit the ground running with anyting he has to throw at her.
>>
>>4451725
>Early in career Bruce Wayne in a style to be determined
>Intimidating
>Blue Grey and Midnight Blue
>Bleeding edge textured material

>How does Lois react to Batman?
Cautious but emotionally flexible. Ready to hit the ground running with anyting he has to throw at her.
>>
>>4451725
>Early in career Bruce Wayne in a style to be determined
> Anything but camp
>All Black
>Black and Gray
> Not max agility
I'm surprised there's an Az-Bat's option and no Dick.
>>
>>4451725
>Early in career Bruce Wayne in a style to be determined
Year One Batsy let's goo

>So Serious

>Blue Grey and Midnight Blue

>Kevlar & etc lined fabric

>Slightly startled and annoyed at Batman's theatrics, but hidden under professionalism
>>
>>4451746
I have already established in narrative where we are on Dick’s timeline.
>>
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Well, looks like we have...
A Bruce Wayne, still early in his career.
In a Blue Gray & Midnight Blue Bat Suit of Kevlar & Etc lined Fabric but also some black and gray and all black...well hmm....
Carrying himself so seriously, intimidating, ironically the third most campy batman is played straight in a campy world, so our campless want is also met.

Alright, this vote creates an arc of a man in the middle of changing his look, because as he recently learned he did this to scare criminals and not children. Get ready for a Batman about to evolve into the public eye.
>>
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You sure yourself up against this looming presence of this intimidating figure as he comes to a stop in front of your desk, the midnight blue near to black cloak of his cape hanging down closed before himself.

Jimmy tightens his face, pressing his lips together in a tightly held purse and looking...rather embarrassed. Clara has a hand on your shoulder and seems poised to throw herself between you and this interloper to your shared office. Though as his arms move, pushing his cape aside to take out a small USB device, you see the symbol set in dark pattern against the grey of his fabric suit. An insignia in the shape of a bat is exposed by this separation, a dark gloved hand places the device on your desk.

Cautiously you pick this gift from Gotham’s Batman up.

“All files are authentic, with verifiable markers. Accounts, reports, and police incidents that line up with photos, videos, and public accounts of vigilante and metahuman activity removed from the internet over the course of the past six months,” his distorted voice explains dryly.

“Interesting, I’m sorry but I haven’t put all of our stuff together yet,” you explain simply.

“When you can, there is a remote drop destination in the drive,” he explains, “Forward your information collated there. I admit I’ve already seen some of it,”

“So we have some overlap on information then?” Clara asks in curiosity, frowning and deeply staring at the Batman.

“No, after Mr. Olsen managed to get on my radar,” he turns to Clara and taps his cowl, with the briefest sounding and silencing of a parabolic ringing, “I have kept my attention, though remote, on all three of you,”

Opening the drive you find a...bat themed graphic user interface begins to automatically lay out data and scrolling documents, with options to export in photographic and pdf formats among other things. You’ll say this about the Batman, he has his branding and resources on point.

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy offers with some frustration and turns to you, “It was an accident. I fell off a fire escape into it and I was afraid of those bird mask guys who were trying to break into it. I stole the batcar!”

“So you’ve been spying on us?” Clara asks with disapproval before her stare is broken as she catches the side of her head and seems briefly off balance.

Jimmy stole his car? And why is Clara so defensive? This information is good, official police reports, metahuman encounters and, and his own dossiers from Gotham as well as accounts and evidence of ASA and Argus operations that were conducted in that city.

“I prefer to be prepared,” he explains simply, and the parabolic whine from his cowl happens but in reverse, “Are you alright Ms. Kent?”

She rights herself, a bit more confident than aloof.

“I’m fine,” she offers bluntly and then points at him, “And I don’t trust you! How can we trust a man who won’t tell us who he is!”
>>
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>>4452339
Here, he smiles. It is decidedly unnerving, but you’re heavily distracted.

“I’m exactly as I’ve presented myself,” he offers and turns away toward the window as sounds you don’t usually hear in the city pick up outside, “but if you need me to identify myself as an informant, by all means tell the world,”

He pauses as he pulls himself half out the window, taking out a small device not unlike a smartphone which makes a sequential chiming sound as the lights of the office come back to full brightness and stability in such blinding suddenness that you almost don’t catch him as a cloud of darkness seems to envelope the area outside of this high floor of the Daily Planet.

“I’m Batman,” he throws himself into the cloud as you catch his outfight in the fullness of light, shadowed by a massive swarm of bats that break away in a fluttering cacophony from the building.

Clara runs to the window and watches whatever terrifying spectacle must be happening when a man falls surrounded by bats, but closes her arms in a huff.

Jimmy’s phone explodes in notifications.

“Hey, he gave me my pictures back!” he cheers, “Well, some of them. Look Ms. Lane, proof of his Batcar!”

Again, the branding is on point with this one.

It compliments the information you already have and creates a more complete picture. Jimmy’s work with Ted “The Wildcat” Grant opens up information about the formation, fall, and membership of the Justice Society of America, and the fates of its members as far as he knew. Clara’s notes on the current political ties of these organizations and what she unearthed about the DEO’s operations fill a few more gaps. On the whole you have a complete picture of the campaign to suppress the impossible.

A Golden Age of heroes and villains undercut by a complete crackdown, followed by decades of suppression of the existence of the supernatural.

Argus is a counter espionage and counter terrorism organization. Though they’ve knowledge of Metas, they aren’t nearly as involved with them but appear to have a few hired in house or kept on retainer. Their connection with the ASA is minimal. The DEO has been moving large amounts of supplies for environmental containment facilities to their operation centers in and outside of National City. The ASA is potentially involved with extrajudicial seizures, murders, and human experimentation on American Soil.

There is so much to parse. And you’re just gonna have to run on it.

Between your own work. Between Jimmy’s & Clara’s contributions...the chief gets a few more articles to edit before 2am than he bargained for.

Wrapping up your Superwoman interview piece, the three of your start on the unremembered history of the Justice Society of America.
>>
>>4452344


[b]Ammunition in hand, how do you spend this evening in the office[/b]
>Focus solely on the work of this article and parsing future leads out
>There is something else buried in here, time to arrange a peg board
>There is something off about your coworkers tonight? Scrutinize them
>Write in
>>
>>4452348
>Focus solely on the work of this article and parsing future leads out
Peg board out in the open in the office doesn't sound smart to me
>>
>>4452348
>Focus solely on the work of this article and parsing future leads out
Work now.
Play later.
>>
>>4452348
>>Focus solely on the work of this article and parsing future leads out
>>
>>4452348
>>Focus solely on the work of this article and parsing future leads out
>>
>>4452348
>>There is something off about your coworkers tonight? Scrutinize them
>>
>>4452348
>>There is something else buried in here, time to arrange a peg board
>>
>>4452348
>>There is something off about your coworkers tonight? Scrutinize them
>>
Rolled 2, 1 = 3 (2d6)

Deep into the evening you focus on the work. Focus on the articles, between the three of your efforts they take shape.

The Interview with Supergirl; her views, her goals, her defense, and the truth of her origin.

The forgotten legacies of the Justice Society of America and the Suppression of the Human and how that may inform the modern era of vigilantism and metahuman action.

Government black budgets directed in Harrison Bergeron like restraint, ostensibly for the public good. Accusations within the evidence proffered by the Batman of human experimentation by the ASA, and though not outright said it seems like a strong possibility that they were the ones managing the Worm. Also, the existence of the Batman and his apparent misgivings on

Your view on which is the largest and most important article may be a bit skewed, as you’ve already done your darndest to express your views and intuition regarding the Superwoman in your interview article on top of what facts you have and her own expressed views.

Amid this work, there is a certain tension in the room that you aren’t sure of, though you put it out of your mind as you begin to see new connections and patterns within the information you have. This too is filed away for later, for now you need direct focus. Focus on the work at hand.

It's not even midnight before Jimmy gets sent to the nap room; much like some hospitals have spaces for doctors to take a fifteen minute nap amid long shifts the Planet has a room dedicated to smaller than twin mattress bunks on a side spring chain frame to nab some shuteye. Sure enough Jimmy returns with the Chief in tow, and sure enough his reaction to the spread of information you present with a cursory look through the three articles going out is rather expected.

“Great Caesar’s Ghost?” he declares to the small assemblage of the floor in the midnight hours and first sets to work editing and then placing calls to legal.

“Lane, Kent, Olsen!” he barks over the printed pages he’s gone over in pencil before going through your shared base documents, “You thought Intergang was gunning for you before? After today we’re going to have three very pissed off secret government agencies flushed into the public eye. Are you three ready for this?”

Jimmy adjusts his bowtie, as though a source of strength and balance, and nods firmly.

Clara nods affirmingly and pounds a fist into an open palm.

And you, you just smile because you’re ready for this. Without a shadow of doubt you are prepared to face the brave new world.

“So, the Batman?” chief wonders aloud, “Since Superwoman is an alien is that fella actually a vampire?”

“Couldn’t tell you, chief,” you offer, but feel compelled to seek a followup on the Batman some time, “Because I’m not sure yet myself,”

“He’s a guy in a halloween costume with some pretty impressive toys,” Clara offers, a bit annoyed, “All theatrics, but his info is good,”
>>
>>4454716
Momentarily, you wonder what he wanted to use your information for. You did send him all the copies through his application, which self deleted leaving you all of his loose files. Is he waging war or looking for leverage against the ASA and Argus? It seems as though he’s clashed with their operations in Gotham at different times, but also has worked with Argus at least on occasion.

Come the morning, your words set the world on fire, though at that point you are blissfully asleep in your apartment. Unaware that your writings and interview with Superwoman are becoming the topic of talking heads on various twenty four hour news channels. Morning talk shows local and national broadcast from multiple cities talk about the revelations of a hidden vigilante past.

On the CSPAN call in show when they were taking calls for stories about these forgotten vigilantes, the Superwoman, and the revelations that cascade into confirmation about the ASA, Argus, and the DEO existing when an elderly man named Algernon Tidewater called in to share his stories seeing Central City’s The Spirit on multiple occasions back in the 40’s when he was just a tyke running around with lollipops and playing stickball; sharing stories about how one of his older friends drove the vigilante around in a taxicab with no license because he wasn’t even a teen yet, and he goes on to recall at least one time he saw the Keystone City Flash, and rambling about if these speedsters are connected at all.

Gotham today marvels at the crisp and clear close up pictures of the Batmobile, and the clearest action shots of the Batman in action himself against avian themed faux-edo clad foes. Talks about connections between the men and Gotham Nightclub owner and alleged mafioso Oswald Cobblepot.

More serious minded figures begin open discourse that bleeds into legislative floors regarding the public airing of purpose for Argus, the DEO, and the ASA. Some call for transparency, some are thankful if we got a woman who can lift a falling space plane that the government at least does have response measures in place.

These are not your immediate concerns, all told, as sometime in the afternoon of the next day your cell phone wakes you with a very specific ringtone.

Your baby sister, Lucy?

“Afternoon sis,” you drol then smile at the memory you had of your little sister just the other day when the two of you would play Alien Interview at your insistence, “What’s the good word?”

“Lois! Thank god I got to you, where are you!?” there is the roar of a diesel engine and open air around her, a humvee or some kind of military jeep probably?

“Home? I mean the apartment. Is everything okay?” you pull yourself out of bed and then again regard the mess of your space.

You should probably try to take care of all of this. I mean, you probably have a few days off from the office for the stuff you pulled and how many more articles you still have mostly written.
>>
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>>4454718

“You are a damn idiot!” she shouts, angrily.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” you offer and shove a mug of water into the microwave, just to get some terrible instant coffee in your system, “Is this about Intergang or the multiple secret government agencies I’ve exposed? WAIT! Is dad pissed? Have I finally garnered some attention again from the General?”

“Lois, I’m...you’re in danger. It’s probably too late for you to get out of the building, they’re watching and listening. Hold out, for the love of god hold out and survive! I don’t know if they’re going for the kill or capture but if you can hold out Dad and I can save you!” she’s pleading.

Your sister is pleading with you on the verge of tears.

That...that isn’t good. Is it Intergang? Argus? The DEO? Or...or is it the ASA.

>Carry on like nothing is out of the ordinary, casually try to leave the building
>Say nothing more, drop your cellular and try and hide with a neighbor
>Lock your door and try to bar your window, make that stand here in your apartment
>Head to the roof, leaves you exposed but maybe being seen is to your advantage
>Take the fire escape to the alley
>Call Jimmy and Clara, warn them!
>Say nothing, leave your phone out as bait, try to get the drop on whoever comes looking for it
>Write in
>>
>>4454723
>>Head to the roof, leaves you exposed but maybe being seen is to your advantage
>>Call Jimmy and Clara, warn them!
>>
>>4454716
>Also, the existence of the Batman and his apparent misgivings on
end of the sentence is missing
>>4454723
>>Head to the roof, leaves you exposed but maybe being seen is to your advantage
>>Call Jimmy and Clara, warn them!
>>
>>4454723
>>Text Jimmy and Clara, warn them!
>>Leave your phone out as bait, try to get the drop on whoever comes looking for it

>>4450195
>>4450126
And with that thought in mind, I'm going to back my What Could Go Wrong? suggestion for the Improvement.
>>
>>4454723
>>Carry on like nothing is out of the ordinary, casually try to leave the building
>>
Rolled 4, 3 + 3 = 10 (2d6 + 3)

After so many days, that breaks the matter of vote ties on advancement.

Also, rolling to act under pressure with your hold!

>>4454773 >>4454716
Also, the existence of the Batman and his apparent misgivings on these organization's treatment of non criminal metas.
>>
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Lois Lane rolls 10 to act under pressure as she takes a risky move. Additionally, Lois Lane slept the night and reduced her current harm by 1. She currently has only 1 harm! That’s good!

Lois Lane also advanced, using her advancement slot to take a move from the Mundane Handbook, which was just used! How fun is that.


“I’ll see you on the other side of this, Lucy. If not, tell dad...I don’t care what you tell him, just tell him something. I dunno, that I went out like punk rock instead of just like a punk,” you groan as you throw clothes on and assess the situation, “That’ll mean something, right?”

Shooting a glance out the window you see the black towncars in the alley way and on the connecting street. They’re already here. Besides the men done up in tactical gear there is one older fellow in a wide brimmed hat and long coat.

“Now you’re tongue tied, Lois jus-” you end the call and dial forward another number in need.

Another name on the byline.

“Jimmy, we’ve got trouble, I need yo-” there is only breathing on the other end, in the background you can hear muffled struggling and gagged screaming.

“-ooooooo to meet me at City Hall with Coffee,” you frown and search for what to say next as you tentatively open the door and look down the hall, it’s clear, “Okay thanks bye!”

Not good. Not good, not good, not good. Okay, you steady your breathing as you take to the stairwell and start moving upwards. You have another call to make.

“Morning Lois!” Clarabelle Kent answers her phone with a decided chipperness, and anxiety, “Already back among the living?”

“Clara, this line is bugged. Someone is responding to what we wrote. They have Jimmy and they’re here now. You need to run, hide, or something. I may have a way out of this for us but I need time,”

“Understood,” there is an underlying anger to her voice as she ends the call.

Quick. Professional. Decisive. It was there in her tone, she isn’t happy and you hope she doesn’t do anything rash.

Chucking your phone over the railing you make it up a handful of more stairs before you hear it clattering floors below. Distant queries of ‘what was that?’ echo up the stairs, alongside ‘investigating’, ‘Alpha’s target’s phone,’.

‘She’s onto us, move,’

‘Intel says she was tipped off,’

Your feet pound as you don’t leave yourself any breath to catch as you make it to the roof access door. Rusty old thing gives you pause to push open. Breaking off a piece of wood from the extra repair supplies for the nearby pigeon coop the superintendent keeps up here, you jam the door.

You made it to the roof. Okay, you’ve no way out, they’ll probably try to do a full sweep of the building floor by floor. If they want to start top down, you’re in trouble. If they have snipers on the adjoining roof tops they have already seen you, taking cover besides the water tower you weigh options.
>>
>>4455360
Wait. Hold out hope that whatever leverage your sister thinks she has saves you...it's probably dad. How many Stars on your uniform does it take to outrank a black budget government agency, you wonder.

You wait, anxiously, but hold yourself together. This pressure can’t keep you down, and you definitely see the occasional glint of light telling you there may be some snipers on nearby roofs. Freshly arrived by the sight of it.

There are a few thuds against the rusted door. A moment of quiet and a shout.

“Clear!”

A shaped charge burns and bursts through enough of the door to clear your small barricade as assorted men in black tactical gear take the space, you get a glimpse of the man in the coat again, moving slowly and deliberately behind them.

“We know you’re here, Ms. Lane,” he says in a calm but menacing tone, “We’d like to have a few words with you and your associates about how you came to possess vital information for national security,”

You don’t know if you can trust this man. You don’t know if Jimmy is alive or dead? Is Clara? The thought of them lifeless and limp double tapped in some black site fills you with anger, terror, and sadness.

No. No you are the fourth fucking estate. You are the press. You speak with your first amendment and wield it as a pen. At the end of the day it is mightier than any sword, gun, or bomb they have.

They can try to kill you, but your words are already out there without the worm. Let them try to suppress this now.

Lois Lane, what will you do?
>They want a few words? Okay, you’ll give them one. Lawyer
>Keep trying to hide on the rooftop. Hold out hope and time
>Maybe you can make it to the top of the fire escape?
>Tackle one of these soldier
>Tackle the old man
>Cry out for help on high, you’ve friends there now, right?
>...take a running start and jump off the roof
>Write in

How mad is Kara Zor-El?
>No violence, just rescue
>Moral grandstanding, piece of her mind
>Petty enough for Super Dickery
>Angry enough to get a bit rough
>No words, red eyes and a darkened face
>What’s so funny about Truth, Justice, and the American Way?
>Grounded
>>
>>4455362
>>Write in
Whatever else we choose or happens, make sure we're recording.

>They want a few words? Okay, you’ll give them one. Lawyer
>Keep trying to hide on the rooftop. Hold out hope and time
Additionally, tell them to buy a copy of the paper, or visit our website without ad block, everything fit to be told is there.

>No violence, just rescue
>What’s so funny about Truth, Justice, and the American Way?
Unleashing a black ops strike team on a reporting team is not very cash money of them.
Caveat, if Jimmy is injured, drop some dickery on that group.
>>
>>4455407 Sounds good. Supporting
>>
>>4455362
>>Keep trying to hide on the rooftop. Hold out hope and time
>>Petty enough for Super Dickery
>>
Just to confirm, we've been relatively open about our sources, right?
Outside of Constantine staying anonymous and Batman being Batman.

Just verifying the dickbag level of these goons, that they assume our sources are a cover or something that requires us to be taken down and/or disappeared for questioning, or otherwise feel like taking the strongarm approach on journalists.
>>
>>4455362
supporting: >>4455407
>>
>>4455362
>Keep trying to hide on the rooftop. Hold out hope and time
Let's avoid talking, unless we can throw our voice anyway.
>>
Written in the doc but on mobile. Not gonna be able to post until later. Gonna try to make another two posts before this squarely falls off board then focus on Eclipses Moon for a spell before this gets a thread 2.

Of course it will be back; I commissioned art for it for fucks sake.

Maybe I should commission some EMQ art?
>>
>>4457325
>Maybe I should commission some EMQ art?

Hell to the yes!
>>
>>4457325
It would be nice, if you have the cash to spare.
>>
Relying on the echo of the city scape to help conceal your position, you decided to have a word with them. One word exactly, that should be telling enough all things considered. Activating both your tape recorder and digital recorder you brace yourself.

“Lawyer!” you call simply away from them in hopes that the bounce off nearby buildings will help hide where you are, though all the same you duck toward and behind the pigeon coop.

“While in normal situations, Ms. Lane, that would be an entirely helpful thing to do for yourself,” the man calmly asks as you catch sight of hand motions being made telling soldiers to fan out, “In cases such as these a lawyer is strictly not applicable until after we’ve filed formal charges,”

As he speaks, you see a shadow moving in the late morning light alongside the pigeon coop. It stoops and you hear the door to the thing open. Carefully and slowly, you make your way to the back of the standing access to the stairwell, flattening yourself against it.

“The Patriot Act and a few other lesser known circumstances mean we don’t actually have to charge you with anything for quite some time,” he says in an ever calm and dispassionate way that you imagine is accompanied by a shrug.

“Sir, we’ve lost contact with the teams on Beta and Gamma Targets!” a cry comes from the stairwell behind and beneath you.

“Then we likely have incoming,” you hear his voice descend into the stairwell, “Commander Williams, take care of this,”
>>
>>4457967
“Understood sir,” a gruff voice replies before taking a more authoritative tone, “Circle up! Eyes on the ledge and on the sky. I want to know when and what is coming! Juarez, take the fire escape, I don’t want Lane making a break for it!”

Well, they may be ignoring you but they haven’t forgotten about you.

Glancing around the corner you see one of them walk over and stand on the fire escape. You blink and miss it when there is a rush of air and the so-called Juarez is just...gone. Gone save for the gun clattering on the ground.

He didn’t even scream.

“Ready to open fire,” Williams offers from the center of tactically prepared soldiers, “We won’t let her get the drop-”

There is a whirlwind of motion and action, a small windstorm howls and scares the pigeons sending detritus up and causing you to grip the corner you hide behind.

“-on us,” Williams manages as the storm dies down.

Peering from where you hide, you see the man surrounded by more people than he had been standing with initially. You imagine these are the Beta and Gamma groups. Williams has his back toward you, here adjusts his beret and takes out a side arm, leveling it into the sky.

Following up his line of vision, you see her floating there. A neutral expression on her face as she slowly floats to the ground.

“You’ve just assaulted upwards of twenty federal agents,” the commander says, a little unsteadily, “Some hero you’ve turned out to be, just another freak,”

“I only touched them after they passed out,” she says lazily, “I just moved past them at high enough speed that the air pressure differential made them need to take a little nap. All I’ve done is return them to the nearest commanding officer I could find. Wasn’t that nice of me?”

She lands on the roof. His gun is still trained on her, she doesn’t flinch.

“What are you trying to do, Commander Williams was it?” she questions and stops literally inches away from where his gun is pointed directly at her forehead.

“You feel that?” you can hear the frown in his voice, “Well, I’m a meta too. It’s why your little air trick didn’t take me down. You think you’re so powerful, so high and mighty, well you’ve given me all the time I need to copy down your meta powers!”
>>
>>4457970
He whips the gun aside and swings a practiced fist toward the Superwoman. You hear the sickening crunch of bone and the Commanders cry of pain as he falls to his knees.

“Huh...let’s unpack what just happened here,” you see her smile, hands on her hips looming over him, “You copy meta powers? You definitely got something off of me, that wasn’t a punch you should have been able to throw normally and you’re definitely soaking up Solar energy right now…”

She crouches in front of him, fixing him dead in the eye as she picks up a piece of wood thrown from the Pigeon Coop and then tears off a large swatch of fabric from the hem of his right pant leg up to his knee.

“Though, that takes time. That takes time to store and metabolize, and besides the surface aura to take it in you can’t just mimic my base physiology outright. I can see parts of your DNA trying and failing to create temporary cell structures like mine,” she grabs for the arms he punched her dead in the face with and begins trying to pull and straighten out the mess he made of the limb with deliberate and careful movements before splitting it with the makeshift tools she took in the moment, “You should probably stop trying to mimic me like that, sure I can see how you’d safely be able to mimic abilities with a similar genetic base to your own, but this cannot be healthy,”

Watching, you see she broke off a piece of the wood and shoved it in his mouth to bite down on while she set his arm. Tying the split off she stares at it a moment while Williams brings his pistol back to bear against her temple.

There is a shot. She is unphased.

“Oh stop being a baby. In a few weeks or months you’ll thank me for setting and splinting this,” she sighs, “Which was honestly your own damn fault. All that force behind your punch but none of my density,”

There is a tense moment as the man in front of you drops his gun.

“That’s better. Honestly if I was half as trigger happy as you I think we’d have a problem now,” she laughs as she makes further adjustment to his arm, to which he grunts in pain.
>>
>>4457975
“So what, you try to patch me up and now am I your prisoner?” he growls on his knees while she stands up.

“Uh...nope. I just tried to fix you up because you’re an idiot and I’m nice,” she offers, “Imagine how this could have gone down if I weren’t nice? You, guns blazing against normal people like you’re going to war, me flying in the sky with eyes full red and charged,”

He gulps.

“You’re still trying to copy me, you can feel how that works can’t you?” her voice is saccharine, “Just realizing the level of control and precision it has, the potential for heat and force...and that’s only with less than five minutes of charging it up and a body that honestly lacks the fine control and focus it needs to work right. can you start to imagine what I can do? You should thank god I’m nice, and for your own sake stop trying to copy me,”

“I’m not trying to copy you, its reflexive, I can’t shut it off by anything but proximity,” he barks in worry, and then coughs up a little blood, “What’s happening?!”

“I can give you a name for it, but it’ll be useless unless you’ve read Ms. Lane’s article,” she rises, and floats toward where you’re hiding, “What you’re experiencing while you try to copy my DNA, that’s part of Eradicator. If I don’t want you to die, how far away from you do I need to be?”

He breaths and gasps, his breath shuddering.

“Oh, was this far enough?” she questions, innocently, you swear you didn’t expect her to go mean girls on a dime like this.

“Farther,” he groans out with sudden desperation, “at least 90feet,”

She helps you up from where you’ve been crouching.

“Alright,” she smiles at you, “Ms. Lane can I give you a lift?”

[b]Lois Lane, do you…[\b]
>No, thank you
>Fly me down
>Fly me away
>Let's take the stairs together (glare at Williams)
>Meet me downstairs, I want to talk to Williams
>No, I want to talk to Williams
>write in
>>
>>4457985
>>write in
Thank you, could you meet me downstairs?
I'd like to talk to the Commander here. I think his boss is currently exercising the better part of valor and heading down.
I'd like to resolve this without having to worry about a reprise or disappearing into an extra-judicial hell.
>>
>>4457985
>Eradicator
Huh, isn't that a Kryptonian AI in mainstream continuity? Wonder what's with it here?
>>
>>4458233
It made decision to preserve Krypton and protect Khryptonians from themselves. It is credited with altering Kryptonian DNA to force them to perish upon leaving their homeworld after first altering the birthing matrixes of a Kryptonian Colony Ship giving them lethal allergy to lead creating what would eventually become Daxamites.
>>
>>4458233
I’m mixing the Eradicator measures with the measures related to the Black Zero revolution as well.
>>
>>4457985
>Fly me away
Being princess carried in superwoman's strong arms? Yes please!
>>
>>4457985
>>Fly me away
>>
>>4457985
>Fly me away
>>
>>4457985
>>Fly me away
>>
>>4457985
>>4458144
This.
>>
Rolled 1, 4 + 1 = 6 (2d6 + 1)

>>
“Fly me away,” you ask, still disheveled from your waking and hasty worried assembly, “From all of this,”

You take her offered hand as she lifts you into her arms. Taking the back of your knees under on as the other supports your back and shoulders. It feels simultaneously safe yet dangerous as the two of you rise up and off of the rooftop. Other than the steely firmness of her arms, you feel weightless and absolutely powerless in this moment.

Like, if she didn’t intentionally offer give in these arms carrying you bridal style may as well be the stone arms of a statue.

No, even through the fabric of her jack and by the placement of her hands against your clothes she is far warmer than that.

Commander Williams struggles to his feet below as you look away from her, and that expression she has which offers you calm succor against the impossible. The distance to the ground strikes you in a moment of primal fear and momentary vertigo.

Academically, you know how her powers work as she’s described them. You understand why you feel weightless, why she feels so unfoundedly solid, and how you soar so far above the street below. Not fast enough to make you feel at harm, but not slow enough for it to be a lazy drift. It is thrilling. It is absolutely thrilling

She flies with you in her arms. Forget about being hunted down by a black ops team that apparently employs metahumans in command positions, you’re flying. Arms looped around her neck for your own sense of security more than anything else, you gasp out excited laughter as she banks low through the city.

People on the street look up. Some gasp. Some cheer.

“HEY SUPERWOMAN! YOU’RE OKAY IN MY BOOK!” shouts a fellow from his apartment’s small balcony as you transition from the west end of the island into midtown.

It’s a city of a thousand dreams, her city, and your city. The city of tomorrow grappling in both rejection and acceptance of this strange visitor who said they only want to help. Many recognize you, the local figure you’ve become as you cut your fame further for being held aloft. Just maybe, your words tipped the balance of uncertainty and made Metropolis willing to accept and adopt it’s woman of tomorrow as she soars with you in her arms.

She says not to worry, that she is taking you to safety. That your friends are okay; as she leaves you at the Daily Planet, where you find Perry White having a screaming match with Commissioner Henderson over the safety and protection of his employees while Jimmy and his camera continue to click and shutter snap away.

The world changes, and yet...it doesn’t. You’ve another set of leads and another matter to write about as you once again find yourself becoming the story.

Everyone stares, with a start, as she flies away with a wave and a smile. There’s an accident on the elevated highway and she’s going to see if she can lend a hand.
>>
>>4459277
You’re already typing before she’s out of sight. You’re already changing the world with your words. Words and evidence that before week’s end will result in some very public hearings. Shooing away anyone who tries to talk to you under the auspice of you need to fucking write. Perry agrees and enforces your demand.

For now though, the ASA has made a public statement over your attempted arrest under national security concerns. Announcing their existence and of the professional and within guideline conduct of your detainment under the assumption that it had gone smoothly before it even started. You incorporate it into your article about your rescue.

Argus and DEO also put out statements. Neither of them in any immediate hot water it seems as their activities didn’t involve, as far as you know yet, the scope of extrajudicial actions.

You catch sight of Kent coming out of the elevator. More than a little disheveled and dropping things out of her shoulder bag. Like you she had a rough morning, and is wearing a hastily thrown together outfit you know wasn’t from her own closet. A white button down blouse, heavy cut for this time of year and slightly more fashionable breezy pants than you’re used to seeing her in. She is visibly uncomfortable.

Apparently the DEO’s press release notes that they decry and cast general dispersion on the ASA’s seizure of journalists; while welcoming a reason to properly present themselves in the light of day. When you see the underlying name at the bottom of the document you understand why.

“DAMNIT LOIS!” Lucy bursts into the room, field fatigues and all, before she tackles you at your desk in a huff, “Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in?”

Incensed, you shove your sister off of you, honestly angry in this moment.

“DID YOU KNOW?” you demand of Lucy Lane, posture child who strived to be the soldier boy your father always wanted even if she went into the Army’s JAG corps.

Chief, the other staffers, Henderson, and Jommy balk at the exchange.

“OF COURSE I KNEW THEY WERE COMING FOR YOU!” she barks back and then almost sons, “That’s what they do! We warned you as soon as we-“

“...no,” you’re icy as you jerk a thumb towards the screen behind you, “about that,”

Undersigned on the DEO’s press release, ranking officer of the organization tasked with monitoring extraordinary acts of biology and applied super science, foreign and domestic, General Sam Lane.

“She damn well better have known, kid,” he enters the room with a serious stillness, dress uniform, and a decided lack of swagger beyond military poise, “She’s part of my command staff. Now, how about we talk about this privately. I’ll even give you a quote,”
>>
>>4459283

Well, dad’s here. At your workplace. Where you’ve made YOUR life. Involving himself in YOUR business
>Scream expletives at General Sam Lane
>Say nothing to General Sam Lane, talk angrily to your sister
>Say nothing to General Sam Lane, talk to someone else in the office
>Pawn this off on Cat, Kent, or whoever. Can’t report on this, conflict of interests
>throw things from your desk at your dad
>Punch General Sam Lane, your father, in the face
>Agree to speak with your father, General Sam Lane, privately
>Thank your father for trying to help out in his way while you were in danger
>write in