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*
The large ballroom in the centre of Midtown Manhattan drips in finery. Several large Christmas trees dripping in silver and gold line the edges of the room. Bright white christmas lights glow brilliantly where the ceiling and walls meet. A long buffet table with different types of food centres the room, and a bar sits on the far wall — complete with a bartender mixing and serving drinks for the guests.
While the inside of the room drips in elegance, complete with standing reception tables, beautifully dressed people, and food of many sorts and varieties, outside quiet chanting of people protesting the state of the union.
Wilson and Vanessa Fisk, dressed to the nines have already begun to mingle among those at the gala. Each with flutes of champagne, they chatter to others in the room and people mill about the room.
*
As far as he's concerned, there's no such thing as a party unless one Sebastian Shaw is there to put his 'blessing' upon it. New money fades so quickly, its opulence an eyesore. While he is a self-made man, there is, was, at least some culture behind it all. Money is just the piece de resistance. He has his politesse facade on as he greets the host and hostess with such lines as, 'Lovely party' and the like before he, too, begins that 'mingle' thing.
Seems a bit odd, however… Emma Frost isn't accompanying him this evening? Whatever will Sebastian do?
*
In the days of old when supposed Royalty enter a gala; they were addressed with the sounds of trumpets and the like and the announcement of their names. Malin Severide (read: Raven), needed no such introductions. Daughter of a Senator from some random community, packed with enough money that none need to look into her background with a flash of banded hundred and a fan of gloved fingers and a wriggle. Gloved, clothed in black, diamonds littering her wrist, the same cut of diamond hangs upon her hips as the black strappless dress hugs her form as a lover would. One would consider it to be velvet at first glance, for there was an underlying shimmer, but it could be due to the thin fabric that lies beneath and the see through silk with a delicate floral cut of an overlay to keep things hidden.
Blonde hair curled with ambition, make-up near flawless. The thing about this identity? Raven wears her real -human- face. To mingle? Easy. Flute of wine? Snatched. A sharp twirl with glass risen from a laughing couple without a spill upon her black gloves had the inner makings for her to be called 'Bitch Puddin' tonight. But.. alas, she wasn't.
*
This was odd for the Creole girl, who was classed up in a scarlet gown, its ends rippling across the floor with every step. Her curls are held at bay with a headwrap of the same dark, silken fabric, and the glimmering fineries that compliment her skin make the once street/swamp rat appear to be some form dignitary. Nibbling nervously to her lightly painted lips, the girl clings to the arm of her compaion, and fairy-godfather of the evening, Jean-Paul Beaubier.
*
Walking amongst the crowd is Matt Murdock, the Hell's Kitchen lawyer made somewhat infamous by his representation of now deceased mob boss, Paul Cavassini. He's dressed in his nicest tuxedo (read: rented tuxedo), and is biding his time while trying to find an opening to speak with the Mayor. In his right hand is a walking cane; his left bears a glass of whiskey, and dark red sunglasses are worn on his face, further signifying his blindness.
*
Sinjin is actually…properly dressed. Amazing, for those who didn't think it was possible. His editor is obviously a man of great determination and taste because only Owen could leverage John into a proper suit. Sinjin isn't here to be seen, though. He's here to observe and to listen and to take notes. Mental notes, at least until people are distracted enough that he can take a notebook out without being too rude.
"Get me a guest list," he murmurs to the fidgety little society page editor for the Bulletin.
"You mean the real guest list?" she asks with a knowing wink, gesturing the photographer forward to get a good picture of the Fisks.
"You know what I mean," Sinjin says with a laugh. Being difficult seems a prerequisite for a job dealing with the wealthy.
*
Unlike his 'date' for the night, Jean-Paul Beaubier looks utterly at home surrounded by the finer things, himself clad in an expensive Italian-cut suit of black broken up only by a silk white tie and pocket square. He has also made no effort whatsoever to style his hair to hide the points of his ears. Not for an evening such as this.
"Remember to breathe, chere," he asides to Lynette, trying not to look too amused as he escorts her inside. "They are only people. Do not let them intimidate you."
*
Dr. Bill Foster arrives with a small group of stuffy-loking men in tweed, all of whom are colleagues and distinguished professors of some sort or another. They immediately join in the mingling, apparently knowing more than a few share of the guests here each. Bill, on the other hand, looks like the odd man out. "I'll need a drink for this," he whispers to the man nearest him, before making his exit and a beeline for the bar. Away from his colleagues, he looks a bit more natural, wearing his nicest shirt and suit for the occasion. Still it's clear he's not a regular at these sorts of things.
*
Hannibal keeps to the edges of the room as it afford the best vantage of the other attendees. Not that he has much interest in them as a group. Rich, corrupt brown nosers most of them. But if he's going to be staying in the city, a better idea of just who the mayor is certainly can't hurt and the police commissioner is a bonus. Dressed in a simple black tux, he has a glass of somethign alcoholic in hand that he periodically lifts to his lips but the level of liquid in it never seems to decrease.
*
If Sebastian doesn't know everyone personally, he does know most in this room. One that he has some interest in approaching and 'chatting' with quietly is one Matt Murdock. With champagne flute in hand, he makes his way towards the somewhat famed attorney, and first clears his throat to let the man know that he is there, adding, "Mr. Murdock. A pleasure," sounds with a clipped tone. "I have been meaning to contact your office, but something always comes up, sadly. Thankfully, I am not pressed in need of your services, so it's more a social, casual connection, but one that I would make regardless."
*
"Mister Fisk, good to see you again." Sinjin waits for a moment before interposing himself between Fisk and the next sycophant. "Vanessa, you look wonderful." Easy to say because it's all true. "Glad to see you both in good health. I've been looking forward to tonight." And there's the photographer again — Sinjin gets out of the way for the moment. Flash…and flash.
"I think you've got it, Larry," Sinjin says the photographer, waving him off. "I don't know how you two stand it," he murmurs to the Fisks.
*
Lynette glances side-long to Jean-Paul and nods. Drinking in a breath, and exhaling smoothly, she glances around the pair before staring at someone who pauses and offers the pair a drink. "T-t'anks." The girl murmurs, accepting her own glass and sipping from its bubbly goodness. Her grip on the man's arm finally eases, and when he moves, she moves along with him.
Another glance around, she spots faces she actually knew, at least a couple anyway, and lifts her glass in greeting to Sinjin, Ben, and finally, Wilson and Vanessa.
*
Raven's eyes were upon the gathering as she slowly draws herself around. A man hung upon one arm, tugged away from the gathering in favor of a quite conversation allows her this chance to look. She spies Lynette, the dark woman looked rather lovely with an equally lovely thing upon her arm. And there was Matt. A furrowing of her brow as the man approaches him to speak. Perhaps it was a matter of over-protectedness, for she nearly starts his way but completely stops. The man upon her arm turns her just enough to whisper in her ear which causes her to laugh.
*
Vanessa straightens Wilson's collar, and she presses a kiss to his cheek. Wilson's chin drops bashfully and his weight shifts from one foot to the other before she reaches for one of John's hands, "You must tell my dear husband that he works too hard. Or, perhaps, you both do," the laugh in her voice is obvious.
Wilson steps towards John, and holds out the drink. "You must have a drink, my friend," everything about Fisk smiles at the reporter. "It truly be a shame for you to miss such wonderful champagne under the guise of work," his voice, gruff but strangely reassuring is punctuated by a small smile.
*
"Come on," Jean-Paul says with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Let's go pretend we belong."
To truly fit in here, Jean-Paul ensures their first stop results in a champagne flute for himself at the very least. You have to drink to get through a night like this, or you'll be bored to death, in his experience. Once Lynette's had a chance to partake or not, he's on the move again. The thing to do when your companion is nervous?
Stroll right up to Wilson and Vanessa Fisk, of course. Jean-Paul offers them both a winning smile that, when he sees Sinjin there as well, softens into something more genuine almost immediately. "If M'sieur Allerdyce does not wish to partake, it only means that there is more for me."
*
Lynette glides beside Jean-Paul, and now that they've taken up a new position, she offers both Wilson, and Vanessa, a kind smile. "Evenin' Mr. n' Mrs. Fisk. I hope y'doin' ok dis evenin'?" Then to John, she shares in the same knowing, sweet expression that Jean-Paul has for the reporter. "John. S'been 'while, chere. How y'doin'?" Pausing her words with a sip of her glass, her dark eyes skip about the room briefly before returning to the known trio. "S'beautiful gatherin'."
*
Murdock turns slightly when he's addressed, and looks to the general direction of Sebastian. "Oh, hello." He turns more fully toward the man, a hesitant smile upon his face. "Well, my apologies, we were… understandably closed throughout the month of October, and things have been a bit rough around the neighborhood lately." He tucks the cane under arm, and offers his hand to the man. "You are?"
There is a moment where he seems slightly distracted by something. Hard to tell just what that is.
*
At the bar, Bill orders something dark and neat, served in a heavy-bottomed tumbler that he now hefts in one hand. He turns to scan the room as people move in each way around him, some aiming to get a drink of their own, others on their way out with a fresh one. In the crowd, he spots one person who does stand out to him, Lynette, though he has to do a double take to make sure it's really who he thinks it is. He ponders walking over to the young woman, since she's with the Fisks and all, and with a sip of his drink decides to go for it. "Fancy meeting you here," he tells her a moment later. "Hope I'm not intruding."
*
Eyes were like daggers as Raven mingles with the man upon her arm, first shot towards Matthew and the other towards Lynette. Whilst Lynette didn't know her in this form, she could be picked out easily, yet instead it was with a laughter that she chums it up with some old pal and gives a toast with her glass. Hopefully the spray of light perfume masked the gunpowder smell, something she really didn't think she'd have to worry about. Though, the current conversation does draw her closer to the Fisks and all, and with an idle ear, she listens.
*
"If he doesn't listen to you, I don't think he'll listen to me," Sinjin says to Vanessa, giving her hand a squeeze before she lets him go.
"It's true that you work too hard." Sinjin accepts the drink from Fisk, laughing a little. "But we'd all be worse-off if you didn't. Still, you should listen to your wife. She was, after all, wise enough to marry you."
Sinjin narrows his eyes a little at Jean-Paul. "Hands off my champagne, Beaubier." He's amused, though. They obviously are well-acquainted. "I didn't know you'd be here tonight. And with a friend, no less." He gives Lynette a nod and a smile.
*
"Sebastian. Sebastian Shaw." He takes the outstretched hand and gives it a firm shake, retrieving it at the next possible chance. "I was following Cassinni. Sorry to hear the news and such, but.." Such is life? "While I don't like to talk business in a gathering such as this, my personal attorneys are currently assisting an acquaintance of mine, and I don't like to be without some representation. Just in case, you understand. So, just to put that in your ear… and expect a call from one of my secretaries to yours."
*
"It's Vanessa," the lady Fisk corrects as she reaches out a hand towards Lynette to gently squeeze. "Please. Mrs. Fisk hardly feels appropriate at such places." Her one arm, still contained in a cast, remains pasted to her side, but otherwise, she seems to be in good health.
Jean-Paul is grant a small smile and a nod. "Seems John still wants it — " Wilson replies. "But I guarantee you, the alcohol isn't apt to run out any time soon." Evidently they're well-stocked for the evening. "My personal assistant saw to it that enough was ordered."
With a grin, he nods at John, "Of course I should listen to Vanessa more. She's always been the brains behind our team." His grin grows.
*
Jean-Paul positively beams at Wilson's assertion about the alcohol supply. "That sounds like a challenge," he says cheerfully, raising his glass in a salute even as his eyes slide over to John. "Of course I am here, John. But you know me better than that, suggesting something so terrible," he says in a low voice, as if insulted. "You know I do not have any friends."
He gives Lynette's hand a light pat as he says it, but Jean-Paul does also try to gently extricate his arm from her grasp. Possibly out of recognition, as Bill approaches them. He gets a friendly smile and a bob of his head in greeting.
*
Murdock's hand is stronger than one might have expected from a blind man. He… must be a blind man with a strict workout regimen. "Sebastian Shaw," he repeats. "Well met." He returns his attention to the new acquaintance in full, and nods his head a couple of times. "Well, Cavassini was a man many people hated, but the rule of law in this country declares that every man deserves representation. I don't call myself a 'defense attorney' by any stretch of the means, but Hell's Kitchen is important to me, and Cavassini did a great deal of good for our little community."
And a whole lot of bad, but he's not mentioning that.
A brighter smile comes when a business opportunity presents itself. "Well, no need to use a phone book," he offers, and reaches carefully with his free hand into his jacket pocket. It takes some fishing, but he soon produces a business card. Plain, nothing too fancy. It's offered over.
He glances away momentarily, as if a fly was buzzing around his ear. There it is again. Familiar voices, familiar odors. Things that stand out amongst the symphony of sound.
"If I might ask," he says, turning back to Shaw, "what is your profession, Mister Shaw?"
*
"Of 'corse. M'sorry 'bout dat." Pulling herself free from her companion, she offers her mocha hand into Vanessa's own, giving it a gentle grip. Her grip tightens, only for a moment, and the connection breaks, leaving the girl with a timid smile on her features. John gets another nod, and then a voice catches her attention. "Ah, Bill. 'Suppose dis a gatherin' t'b'hold, non?" Though still smiling, she girl in crimson glances at the gathering and lingers her dark eyes on Vanessa directly. "'cuse me." Pulling herself away, she moves toward a distant table and away from a number of the groups of people, drinking all the way. Now out of the mess, she rubs at her eyes and takes a few, deep and pointed breaths.
*
"I apologize for being so gauche as to suggest that you have friends," Sinjin says to Jean-Paul, with a great deal of amusement. "I would hate to sully the rumors of your exile from society." Of course. Exiled. To an upscale party in New York.
Sinjin gestures between Fisk and Jean-Paul. "There wasn't time for introductions in Harlem," he says. "Mr. Fisk, this is Jean-Paul Beaubier, who was so helpful during that unpleasantness in which Vanessa was injured. Jean-Paul, Mr. Fisk, our host."
*
There was another little laugh and a slight kiss upon the cheek to her brief companion; Malin Severide slowly draws her way through the crowd, languid steps following Lynette towards her quiet space as she draws herself behind her, one arm lightly draped along the little creole's shoulder.
"Amina Sola.." She murmurs quietly, an intrusive moment, one that has the arm tugging the woman in tighter in a sideways hug to avoid the ruining of her jewels. "I did not take you for the dignitary-ish sort."
*
"Perhaps it is a challenge," Wilson chuckles in return.
"Wilson, darling, I suggest not challenging anyone to a drinking competition. Draining us of all libations seems counterproductive," although Vanessa's smile sparkles and the words seem to reflect some semblance of irony.
Wilson leans towards Jean-Paul, "I think she's secretly challenging you. We're here to celebrate, after all. And celebrate we shall." His lips curve up considerably; he's pleased and confident with the moves they've made.
Wilson Fisk reaches out a hand towards Jean-Paul. "I'm grateful for your help. That was a mess in Harlem. Your talents were needed. This is why we need people like you within our fine city's police force."
"My dear, are you quite alright?" Vanessa glances towards Jean-Paul as Lynette seems rather distraught.
*
"Proprietor of a small business venture. Perhaps you've heard of it. Shaw Industries. We specialize in guidance systems and arrays." It is a rather large business, a rival, almost, to Stark Industries. Only the CEO is a little less flashy. Sebastian takes it all in stride, though he deliberately omits a few things here and there, along the line.
Taking the proffered card, Sebastian nods, "Thank you. Though I'm sure you're in the Yellow Pages." The bit of information is glanced at before it's pocketed, though now, his head cants, brows rising, "Is there anything amiss, Mr. Murdock?" His gaze scans the immediate area and doesn't come up with anything. Nothing at all.
*
Lynette offers a weak smile Vanessa's way at her question. "Qui, I jus', need a moment." Having retreated, she lingers by herself, until she's joined by another beauty. Jumping, she glances up sharply at the woman by her side, but the sudden shock fades once the blonde's voice settles in her ears. Scoffing, she looks down at herself and brushes down her skirt. "I clean up nice, don' I?" She questions with a rueful smirk pressing a dimple into her cheek. "Guess m'waitin' t' see if dis all plays out nice-like." Finishing off her glass, she sets the vessel aside on a near by table, stalling beside it as if unsure that's where it should go. "What y'doin' here, miss?"
*
Jean-Paul is quick to reach out and shake Wilson's hand when he offers it, a lopsided smile still on his face from the Fisks' challenge. "I was going to drink my way through the night whether you challenged me or not," he confesses to Vanessa, winking playfully at her.
As Lynette moves away, Jean-Paul unconsciously shifts to stand at Sinjin's side, glancing after the woman when Vanessa asks after her. "She is a little anxious about the crowd, I think. Not her usual circle," he says, not unkindly, before turning his focus back to Wilson himself.
"I am pleased that I was able to help," Jean-Paul says simply. "I do not expect people like myself will be welcome within the police force, but." He shrugs helplessly. "We shall see."
*
"This is New York City." Sinjin shrugs and gives Jean-Paul a look. "It's always had a reputation for taking all kinds. And crisis makes people pragmatic. Sometimes the best in people needs a little of the worst circumstances before it shows itself." He takes a look around the room to see if he knows anyone, winces slightly as Larry the photographer is about to ambush an elderly couple — the woman dripping with gems and fur — to get a photograph for the society page. Sinjin swears the man thinks he's a big game hunter.
"If you drink too much, who's going to pour you into a cab at the end of the night?" he murmurs to Jean-Paul. Lynette doesn't quite seem the wrangling type. "Hardly fair to your date."
*
"Ah. Society certainly has its own predators," Vanessa sips her champagne; she can understand Lynette's position. In fact, there's little to say aside from that, except, "And, of course, its vultures. I assure you, Wilson and I are neither." She chuckles lightly. Evidently she means whatever she says.
"People are welcome if they follow the rules. Police forces are intended to protect citizens in ways that embrace and follow the law," Fisk offers with a shrug. "Your talents would be a boon to them."
*
"You are a lovely sort of thing tonight, yes.." Raven casually admits, drawing her arm from around the woman to settle in nursing the glass. The little stand that she was next to is leaned against, her eyes cutting the crowd, scanning with her lips pursed completely. "I don't think this will play out nice. Nou konnen ki jan yo pwal santi yo soumtr nou. Touye nou." Her shoulders shrug faintly, her lips pursing quietly. "To be honest?" She says, her voice quieting to a whisper. So much that she has to lean in to whisper into Lynette's ear so that she wasn't heard.
*
"Crisis makes people pragmatic, but it also makes them fearful," Jean-Paul replies to Sinjin, meeting his look with a small smile. "And in my experience, the fearful do not tend to be very accepting. That being said…" He shrugs his shoulders as he looks between John and Wilson, his smile widening. "…I am frequently wrong. Not overly fond of rules," he adds, with something almost approximating apology. "But still. It would be nice to be wrong."
As for drinking too much, that just reminds Paul to throw back the contents of his glass before replying to Sinjin again. "If she is enjoying the party correctly, she will be far too busy to escort me anywhere," Jean-Paul says, lightly smacking the Australian on the arm. "So that task may fall to you."
*
"Mwen konnen. Petet aswe a pral diferan." Lynette murmurs to her newest companion, even as her hands rest behind her back, fingers tugging to their mates in a habitual manner of expression in her nerves. At the whisper, she blinks and those dark orbs widen ever so slightly. Giving her wrapped head a gentle shake, she leans closer to the beautiful blonde, and whispers something to her in return. Standing upright, she watches Raven's expression pensively.
*
At mention of Shaw Industries, Murdock's eyebrows rise. "Yes, I am… familiar." It seems representing Cavassini will be good for business. He nearly does a double take when Sebastian asks him if everything is alright. "Hmm? Oh. No, I am… fine. It's just, difficult sometimes, being around so many people, when I'm not entirely sure where I'm going. I was hoping to peg down the mayor, but I'm sure he's very popular tonight."
*
"You, wrong?" Sinjin says in a low voice. Then he gives Wilson and Vanessa both a bright smile. "Really good to see you both again. I'd love to follow up on the story about the department later, but for now, I'll let you get on." He puts a hand on Jean-Paul's shoulder as he steps away. "I'll be around in case you need hauling off anywhere." He's got a few more people to get quotes from before he can just socialize.
*
Press, good or bad, can intrigue the reader to dig deeper. In this case, why not hire on the attorney firm? Sebastian smiles, and no doubt it can be heard in the tenor and tone of his words. "Then you'll be amenable to the contact. Good. I'm certain that we will be able to come to some arrangement."
Take a step to the side so as not to crowd the undoubtely popular lawyer, Sebastian looks around again. "I saw him for a moment in the crush. Hmm.. the Fisks, a few unknowns.." Shaking his head, "I'm afraid I don't see him at the moment."
*
Towards the centre of the room, an assistant has begun tinkling glasses. While this may breed some confusion about what is going on, it seems apparent the assistant is attempting to gain some attention from the room's focus. Standing there in the middle of the room, Robert F. Wagner, the mayor of New York stands ready to field questions and, perhaps, thank those gathered.
He lifts a hand, "Ladies and gentleman, let first thank each of you for being here tonight! As I'm sure you're aware, the world has changed rather immensely over the last few years and we've come to a point where we require greater protection and responsibility of and to our citizens."
*
Foster leaves, heading towards RP Nexus [O].
*
Foster has left.
*
"SO? Nou pa gen okenn ewo." Raven replies evenly towards Lynette. Though that does make her wonder..
As soon as the glass was chinked against, Raven turns towards the table to set her own down, her arms held around her middle as she leans in close towards Lynette. "Just in case." Were her words. Which meant be on guard. Lynette could even hear the slight crackling noise that emitted from Raven's form.
*
Sinjin wanders back over to the society page editor who has been looking daggers at Jean-Paul since she recognized him. "Be nice," he murmurs, before turning to pay attention to the mayor.
*
If Jean-Paul has noticed the editor's glares, he isn't showing it. He just smiles to himself as he turns towards the clinking glass, letting out a quiet, resigned sigh. Here we go.
*
"Which is why we have come to where we are at today," Wagner continues. "With the advent of extraordinary human beings, we must take extraordinary measures." He motions towards the back wall that has (recently) been set up with easels and large poster boards explaining the process to train and acquire a powered police force. "The Powered Response Crime Unit or PRCU is an elite task force designed to enable our police to take down assailants with abilities. It is the first municipal police force of its kind and will have powered individuals acquiring training in the police service partnered with seasoned police officers. Together, these groups will deal with and mitigate powered threats."
The mayor lifts his glass. "While at a national level we have some types of protections, we need to keep our city safe. And we need to find unity and peace as we do that. So that's why we're unveiling this new project."
*
Murdock turns when the Mayor presents himself, and smirks ruefully. "No doubt surrounded by his closest constituents," he murmurs quietly, then goes silent in order to listen to Wagner's words. He leans upon his cane for a moment, and takes to sipping at his whiskey, expression veiled. "What do you think of these developments?" he asks lightly of Sebastian.
*
Lynette watches Raven attentively. Her comment to her, whatever it was she said, causes the girl to frown knowingly. When the Mayor speaks, she watches those around him, pointedly searching out the people she knew, her date, and keeping tabs on them. Her shoulders are tense, body going ram-rod stiff. She waits.
*
Fascinating. Not that it's unexpected, because it's not. Sebastian falls silent as he recalls that glass of champagne in hand, and finally takes some small sips of it, allowing it time to settle. Keen eyes look at the back, the boards declaring, essentially, 'peace in our time'.
"I think it's quite impressive," is murmured back towards Murdock. "Optimistic. Sadly, ultimately, a feel-good endeavor, I think. The illusion of control." Sebastian looks from the posters back to the Mayor, brows rising as he raises his voice to ask, "When are you planning on deployment, Mayor Wagner?"
*
Interesting. And with a spiffy acronym and everything. Sinjin looks around to take in the response from those gathered. There are going to be all kinds of question — not least of which is about what this is going to do to the insurance budget for the police force. What about liability? He knows he's a hazard, at times. What about use of force? He's looking forward to hearing those questions answered over time.
"Mayor Wagner, when does recruiting begin for this?" Sinjin asks. Not that he's offering himself up but he's curious. It's going to take a very particular kind of person to be first in line for this force. Then again, they might get an absolute avalanche of applicants from across the country. "Will it be restricted to residents of New York City?"
*
"Recruitment will begin immediately," Wagner replies to Sinjin. "And good question, Mister Allerdyce. An incredibly important question. Recruitment must begin immediately if we're going to be remotely effective at dealing with our current troubles." Towards Shaw he nods, "We intend to deploy shortly after recruitment. Each of the new powered recruits will be paired with seasoned officers, and will simultaneously be going through police training. While it's not ideal to have trainees responding to troubled calls, we will have them with seasoned officers." As far as where the recruits will be from, "We intend to recruit predominantly from our fine city, but others will be considered on a case-by-case basis." He smiles.
*
A look was given towards Lynette, along with a slight shake of her head. Raven turns to snag her glass of wine, taking a few covert sips, eyes watching the crowd.
*
"Are de off-cers dat 'r workin' wit de recruits willin' t'do dis?" Lynette speaks up, a relative nobody, but the question is there, and with a voice. "Dey unbiased? Even acceptin' of othas?" Another pause and the girl realizes what she's saying, aloud, and with volume. "Dey gonna be safe?"
*
Sebastian leaves, heading towards RP Nexus [O].
*
Sebastian has left.
*
Murdock does not weigh in on this matter. Instead, his head moves slightly toward Lynette's direction. He watches her for a moment longer than a normal person might, before his attention then shifts ever so slightly toward Raven.
Now with a concerned frown, he turns back toward the Mayor, but… his eyes are on everything else. Lynette, after all, posed a heavy question, and from a black woman, no less.
That ought to go over well.
*
"They have already been tasked, asked, and are on side to do this," the mayor replies to Lynette. "This isn't intended as a stop-gap measure but a long term solution to an important issue facing our city." His lips twitch, but he doesn't smile "They are police officers and will act as our representatives in enforcing the law to the fullest of their ability."
"Safety and screening are, of course, priorities with any group tasked with upholding the law and bringing orderliness to our streets."
*
"Will the new police officers fulfill all the same duties? Will mutants be accepted into other departments as well, over time? Or is this a single-area integration?" Sinjin just wants to get that out of the way so he can get back to drinking, since he has an excuse.
*
At mention of screenings, Jean-Paul finally breaks his silence. "How much information about themselves will volunteers be expected to provide?" he asks, keeping his french-accented voice light. "And will the city be compiling a registry of these volunteers?"
Calmly, Jean-Paul sips his champagne, his blue eyes locked on the mayor from across the room. He knows damned well what he just asked.
*
Pepper arrives from RP Nexus.
*
Pepper has arrived.
*
"Of course we will ensure that all officers have to fulfill the same duties," Wagner replies easily. "And we aim this to be the first phase of a longer term project where we embrace and integrate the abilities of all our citizens into law enforcement in our communities." He manages a small smile.
Jean-Paul's question warrants a small tilt of the mayor's head. "If you are suggesting we're aiming to create a registry of citizens who volunteer to be part of our police force, you must know that we already do this with our current police force. Being a person with an ability doesn't exempt a person from publicly identifying as an officer of the law. Vigilantism is, as I'm sure you're aware, technically illegal. This will allow volunteers to operate within the confines of the law, but yes, it does require identification of the self to the public. Our police force must be public."
*
Lynette presses gently to Raven before parting from the woman's side and rejoining Jean-Paul. Once there, she links her arm with his, her free hand resting on the sleeve of his well fitting suit jacket.
*
"What of the rights of those the PRCU investigates?" Murdock asks, finally raising his voice. "Will they strictly be charged with handling criminal mutant, or, 'powered' elements? Or will they utilize their enhanced capabilities to further show disregard for minority elements?" Murdock steps forward, using the cane to make sure he isn't about to run into anyone. There's a single laugh at the head of his next phrase. "I… heh, don't think anyone in this room wants to admit that the way law enforcement have treated negro and hispanic communities leaves much to be desired. How will you keep these 'powered' officers in check, should they decide to take the law into their own hands?"
*
"They will be subject to the same due process as anyone arrested," Wagner replies. "They will have the same rights as all other citizens. And no, the system doesn't always work, but currently it continues to be our best option to combat criminality. Being part of that system and working inside it will aid others in ultimately shaping it and honing it in directions we, as a city, want to see it go." He frowns slightly, "And there will be consequences for those who step out of line, just as there are consequences for the rest of the NYPD when that happens."
*
"And what, pray tell, would those consequences be?" Raven, aka Malin Severide, asks. "Surely those powered individuals would require a certain means to keep them contained while they await due process, yes?" She doesn't step forward, but her voice does carry. "And what if, those powered individuals that do join the specialized force come into disagreement with the methods the NYPD employ? Will they have an equal voice among them?"
*
"What 'bout de ones tryin' t'help pr'tect dey own dat don' join wit de forces?" Lynette follows up smoothly. "Will de NYPD be arrestin' ev'ryone dat's got powas jus' f'bein' dere 'n helpin' out?"
*
"Those consequences include the same as those for any citizen who breaks the law," The mayor replies to Severide. "And, no, currently we don't have easy ways to contain people. But we will do what we can." He frowns slightly. "All officers have equal voices. That said, currently, the voice of experience trumps the rest. We need trained officers on the beat. People that know what they're doing."
Wagner's lips purse at Lynette's questions, "Powered people helping citizens are protected under the good Samaritan law. But those actively fighting assailants are engaging in vigilante justice and therefore breaking the law. They will be arrested as will the criminals."
*
Sinjin does not cast a slightly guilty look at Jean-Paul. Mostly because he doesn't feel guilty. That look might be amusement, though. Maybe if the police get their shit together, there won't be any need for him — and people like him — to go out of their way to throw down in the street. He certainly didn't need to before he came to New York.
*
Jean-Paul looks genuinely surprised when Lynette returns to his side and reclaims his arm, but the resignation on his face seems to be directed more towards the proceedings as a whole than her specifically. He casts a quick look towards Sinjin, thinking as he drums his fingers against his glass. He's considering something.
*
"And we will take no further questions this evening. If, however, you have ongoing concerns, you're encouraged to raise them." The Mayor lifts his hands. "And if you or anyone you know is interested in joining the PCRU, please direct them to the Police Commissioner's office for screening." Pause. "Thank you! Please. Enjoy the food, the drinks, and the company. Tonight is a night for celebration!"
*
Lynette shakes her wrapped head and glances up at her companion's face. "I don' t'ink he likes us." She muses with a smirk, giving Jean-Paul's arm a soft squeeze of a hug. Accepting a fresh glass of wine as it passes, she presses up on her toes and whispers something to JP, her eyes lingering on his face as she waits for his answer.
*
Sinjin is impressed by the mayor's ability to keep a straight face in all this, though the man does seem to have a vein throbbing in his forehead. Stressful subject.
"So, you signing up?" Larry sets off a flashbulb in some hapless socialite's face before looking over at Sinjin.
"I'm not even an American, mate," he says with a laugh. "I'm not police material, anyway. They'd make me cut my hair."
"I don't get the hair," Larry mutters. "Do the ladies like it?" Not that Larry has much hair.
"I haven't asked any. But I will." Sinjin gets himself another glass of champagne before cruising off toward Fisk.
"Well, that went well," he says sincerely. "Congratulations." He offers Fisk a handshake.
*
There is an incredibly brief flicker of expression across Jean-Paul's face, so fast as to be difficult to identify. And then he laughs, reaching over to lay a hand against Lynette's shoulder. She may have taken care to lower her voice; he does not. "Oh, come now," he says warmly, his eyes twinkling. "I would not wish myself upon anybody. I am not the dating type."
*
"It continues to be an important undertaking," Fisk offers towards Sinjin as he accepts the handshake. "I should, however, catch up to my lovely wife. She trailed away a bit ago to powder her nose," and evidently hasn't yet returned. "Thank you for making it out. Send my well wishes to Miss Walker." He manages an easier smile and then disappears towards the door.
*
Raven clicks her teeth loudly, surely a sound that would annoy some with the most sensitive ears within the room. With a quiet whistle and a gesture towards her brief companion, a hook of the arm and a lead towards the exit promises for better tidings to come.
*
Raven leaves, heading towards RP Nexus [O].
*
Raven has left.
*
"Didn' say y'had t'ask'm out 'nywhere public." Lynette explains, giving the man a sly smirk and wink. "I ask f'y, if y'wan' me t'." She offers, seeming to start pulling away to head in John's direction. Her eyes flutter to where Raven was and then after Fisk's departure. She frowns at his back, something from earlier coming back to the front of her mind, only for the memory to be broken as she 'thumps' into the Blind Lawyer from Hell's Kitchen. "Oh! M'sorry. M'so sorry…I wasn' payin' 'ttention. I didn' hurt y', did I?"
*
"You realize he has a girlfriend," Jean-Paul calls after Lynette, still sounding entirely too amused. Slowly, he shakes his head as he watches her go, turning himself to go find a spot to drop off his glass. And maybe get a fresh one. He needs more to drink, but whether they have anything suitably strong here, he isn't sure of.
*
When Lynette bumps into Matt, he nearly spills his glass of whiskey. Seems some noise out there had taken him by surprise (thanks, Raven!). The glass makes to tumble out of his hand, but then, with a surprisingly fast and nimble motion, he catches it without spilling a drop. For a moment, the blind lawyer freezes, before turning slightly toward Lynette. He remains eerily silent, before speaking in a quiet, meek voice. "No. I am fine. Thank you."
*
ROLL: Daredevil +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 40
*
ROLL: Lynette +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 70
*
Lynette moves her hand to try and catch the glass herself, but her speed isn't anywhere near that of Matt's, nor is her skill. Blinking, she stands all the straighter and stares at the man before her, looking at her reflection in his scarlet shades. "Nice catch, chere…" The girl murmurs, her voice low as she simply stares for a few moments longer. Her tongue presses at the corner of her lips, if only for second, then her hand reaches out and softly squeezes at the side of his arm. Leaning forward, she whispers in his ear and pulls back with a smile.
*
Sinjin's work is done now that Fisk is gone. "Larry, I swear to God, I will park that thing in your colon," he mutters as he sees the lens swing his way. The camera stops and Larry decides to photograph the Christmas tree instead. Sinjin drains his glass of champagne and heads for the exit. He still tires easily, even weeks after his injuries. It's frustrating.
"Enjoy your evening," he says, coming over to say goodbye to Jean-Paul — because that's polite.
*
Jean-Paul sets his glass down and takes a quick look around as he weighs whether or not to pick up a fresh one. Ah, well, if John is coming his way — he abandons the champagne to meet him halfway, an odd smile on his face.
"This entire thing is going to be a disaster. You know that, don't you?" Jean-Paul asks lightly, running a hand back over his hair. "I need a drink. A real drink. You live here, where is the nearest bar worth my money?"
*
Murdock remains frozen where he is for a moment, then smiles in an awkward manner at Lynette's remark. "Just… blind luck," he answers, but cuts himself short when she whispers something to him.
Murdock's eyebrows rise up slowly, and he turns to look toward the woman for a long moment. "Ma'am," he offers politely, before quietly turning and walking away. He can feel his face growing red, which prompts him to lift and down the rest of his whiskey in one gulp.
*
Lynette parts her lips to say something else as Matt moves away, but instead, she stands, now by herself, and frowns. Glancing down, she finishes her bubbly in a few gulps, and sets the flute aside for someone else to find, and probably clean up. Heading toward John, she finds herself standing with JP once more. "Oh, guess y'beat me to it." She begins, grinning at the pair. "Where y'goin' on y'date?"
*
"A date?" Sinjin looks mildly amused. "I'm afraid you've misunderstood," he says, not unkindly. "Me helping a friend find a bar is not a date. And…" He casts a look over at the society editor, who is watching like a hawk. "I think Miss Walker deserves better than me stepping out on her. She also deserves better than me, but life is rarely fair." He pats Jean-Paul on the arm. "Share my cab, the place I have in mind is across the street from my flat."
*
Although Jean-Paul is still smiling when he turns towards Lynette, there is something different in his eyes. Normally, they are twinkling in amusement, warm; but now, they are cold, nearly icy, in sharp contrast to the playful tone of his voice. "However good your intentions may be, my dating life is none of your business."
A gentleman might say goodbye, or wish the young lady they came with a pleasant evening. But noone in their right mind has ever called Jean-Paul Beaubier a gentleman. Without even a glance at John, he starts for the door with his head held high, absently tugging one of his sleeves into place.
*
The girl's joy fall flat in an instant. Another frown, her dark eyes gloss lightly as she looks at the pair and sinks a bit into herself. "I didn'…m'sorry I jus'. Sorry." Is all the girl can seem to say, even as she watches her once companion for the evening head off. Another apologetic, and hurt, express settles toward John as the girl quickly turns away and heads for another exit. She starts walking herself away from the build, away from the duo, and from the glitz, and glamour.