burnwithlight:

When everything was done at the volunteer site, there was cleaning up and meeting at that great little restaurant with the nice private rooms. The whole gang: Andrew, Giovanna, Angelo, Sengai, Rikki...and that Nell girl Gio had met. The St. Croix girl. The American (and therefore baseline) St. Croix girl. Gio was still processing this. Good thing for the restaurant's record keeping away eavesdroppers, in case someone ended up saying something untoward.

hello_program:

It hadn't been intentional but Jensen had arrived in Cowtown ahead of the rest of the group, a few days luxury that permitted her to get sorted out in their surroundings.  They had acquired the Western Auto building, the rental lofts converted and redone until the building was more than suitable for their purposes.  She didn't want to know how much money that acquisition had cost, as it appeared that the building was something of a landmark and desired loft space, but she was glad they had it.  It was a good location and, with serious next generation internet capabilities being brought to the twin KCs, everything was perfect.

Especially the food. She'd found a nearby Gates BBQ and that's what anyone who had shown up would smell as she hauled in bags of delicious meaty goodness.  She was going to make sure they had a classic Kansas City lunch.

Didn't want to come off as noobs.

ng_mojoverse:

"Crap, crap, crap, really bad crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, porn, crap, crap, crappy porn, crap, crap, crap.."

Each of the words was punctuated by a click of a remote and the changing of a channel.  Mojo, supreme ruler of the Mojoverse and master programmer supreme, sultan of the air waves, tip top tv exec, and the person responsible for the 2004 Super Bowl halftime show, was not happy.

"Why are my ratings DOWN?!" he bellowed.  He looked left.  He looked right.  And he realized that there was no one around to listen to his rantings.  "DOMO!   DOMO!  DOMO!"

"You bellowed, oh bulbous one?" Major Domo, his majordomo asked, appearing behind him with enough quietness that the great Mojo was forced to jerk in surprise.

"What have I told you about sneaking up on me?!" he demanded.

"I was making plenty of noise, oh supreme one.  Doubtless you were simply engaged in creating superior programming and did not hear me."

"Yes, well... yeah, I was.  But why are my ratings DOWN?!"  He gestured toward the tvs.    "I mean, I've got people out there readings books!  Dead trees!  And this FaceSpace and myBook and tweeter-de-dee?!  What's wrong with these people?!  Why aren't they watching?!  I need a new show.  I need inspiration.  Something that will really put the butts back in the seats.  And then something that will keep them there.  Maybe some kind of glue...  Domo, look into super-glue suppliers.  Tell them we'll take everything they have.  Literally. Or else I'll send Spiral after them!"

Domo sighed.  He was used to dealing Mojo's moods.  And he knew just the thing to bring him out of it.  "If I may offer a suggestion, oh Video Master?"

Mojo seemed unresponsive, so Domo took the initiative and waved a remote in front of his face, large yellow eyes following its every move.  He turned the TV on.

"As you can see, the X-Man called Rachel Summers is engaged in quite the romantic conundrum.  Three different suitors, three different demographics.  The Prince, the Bat Boy, and the Furry.  You could get quite the audience draw with them."

"No, no, no!" Mojo ranted.  "That's a terrible idea!  We need something good!  ...Wait, I've got it!  We'll kidnap the Summers girl and her three boy toys, throw in one of our own, put it on TV.  Call it... Who Wants to Marry a Mutant!  We'll make millions!  Make it happen!  GET ME THAT PHOENIX!"

nextgen_citizen:

"If we do this... there's no going back. This is going to burn through every favor you and I have above my pay grade." Police Captain Erica Strauss poured herself and her associate a shot of whiskey. The strongest she had.

"And yet you will do it. District X's time is over, and this is the way to do it." The gentleman raised the glass, before downing it. He pushed a dossier across the table to her. "This file does not exist. There is no file which contains this exhaustive a cataloging of the District's residents, and their... unique qualities. Just make sure you don't get anyone with wings involved. The media loves them, almost as a rule."

"Nobody's going to love anything about that hellhole after this, not until it's torn down and rebuilt as high-rises." Strauss flips through the files, downing her own drink. "This... if this existed--" she humors him. "--it would be perfect. Let's see those brats try to derail this now."

-----


"The public was shocked today as, in an historic announcement, the governor signed an act to grant emergency powers to the 11th Precinct. Martial law and standing search warrants for the entire District X area have been put into effect. Policymakers are still reeling, as this is the first act of it's kind within the city. Captain Erica Strauss was available for comment earlier today."

"I want everyone in the five boroughs and beyond to understand that no-one involved in this is looking to make any kind of history. These are unfortunate measures to have to be implemented, but it's been determined there is no other appropriate response to the still surging crime wave from District X, and the continuing allegations of disappearances. I'd like to thank my fellow captains of the neighboring precincts for helping to pool emergency funds, as, in an effort to protect taxpayers from the cost of bringing in the National Guard, as well as keeping public safety our first priority, we will be bringing in the brave men and women of Castleton Security Holdings to support our own men and women as we deploy into the District." Every syllable was crisp, except for the parts where the public would respond better to signs of stress or remorse.

Strauss locked her gaze on a camera. "I want those people hiding within this district of our fair city to know that we will not stop. We will put everything as it should be. To the law-abiding citizens of District X, I promise you this, we will be among you."

----

The searches started the next day at dawn. Doors were pounded on. Homes were turned upside down. Residents were subject to 'mandatory relocation' to hotels and shelters in other parts of the city. Every 'successfully' searched building had security stationed nearby afterwards. By nightfall, and the enactment of the district-wide curfew, over five hundred residents had been moved, with well-crafted gentle assurances they would be back in their homes soon.

The efficiency alone was something of wondrous terror.

yourtruecolors:

Minnie had been running countless background checks, but her hands were empty as she knocked quietly but distinctly on Julian's door late one morning. Anything her Julian might need to know was in her head.

She'd already knocked when she noticed the colors bleeding through the door didn't seem right. Was he not there? And whose was the pattern that was?