All the News That's Fit (IC, Open)

[N/A]

The Scarab floated down to land next to the crouched cat-burglar, a sense of uncharacteristic urgency in her breathless voice. "I came as soon as I saw the article. A friend had to retask a few thousand spy satellites and traffic cams to find you, but I'm just glad it worked." She pressed the button on the tiny beacon in her epaulet. A swirling vortex of blue mist and lightning appeared behind her. "Now that every criminal in the city no doubt considers you a traitor and a mole, I doubt any of your usual hideouts or associates will be safe. I can provide you with sanctuary until you figure things out."

Meanwhile, I just hope I'm not about to make the biggest mistake of this lifetime by letting the fox into the henhouse.

[alderwitch]

"Price of being a double agent, my love," Bombshell replied with maddening unconcern over her own pretty neck. She relaxed slightly as it appeared the Scarab's mood was more in the 'panic' arena than 'wrath' and uncoiled the rest of the way from her crouch, "But criminals rarely expect other criminals to do anything but look out for number one. It's as refreshing as it is predictable."

Despite her words, Talya did step through the portal at Scarab's urging and then stopped, looking sharply around. "I thought you'd be taking me off to an apartment."

[N/A]

[bg=#BF0000]"With the enemies we've both made over the years, an apartment would offer about as much security as a laundromat. I do have a couple of friends with orbiting space stations, but I'll rest easier knowing you won't die if you open a window. And I've gone to great lengths to ensure that this is the safest place on Earth. In over fifty years, no one has set foot in here without my permission. Welcome to The Scarab's Lair."[/bg]

[alderwitch]

Bombshell indulged in a brief look around, enjoying the chance to take a peek into the Scarab's sanctum sanctorum so to speak before she sighed and shook her head. She turned resolutely back to the Scarab and reached up to pull off the thin mask, "No, Elena. I'm not staying here. When you let me in, it'll be because you trust me, not because you can't sleep at night fretting over which old enemy might or might not find me."

She smiled, reluctantly but genuinely, "You can't wrap me up and put me on a shelf to keep me safe, darling, although I appreciate the desire to do so more than words can say. Criminal or hero, I'm never going to be a tame creature. You wouldn't be interested if I was that person and it really wouldn't be me. It would be an act I put on to make you happy and eventually, I'd chafe under that much coddling. You simply have to take on faith that I'm going to be alright. I will be, you know. I'm a remarkably hardy individual."

[N/A]

The Scarab's featureless mask fell away from her face with a simple mental command to the psychoreactive morphic molecules, revealing the petite Latina within. [bg=#BF0000]"I know. I know that isn't who you are. I know you can take care of yourself. I just...you..."[/bg] Elena sighed. [bg=#BF0000]"If something happens to you, I won't be able to find you. I won't know until it's too late. I don't know what else to do. I can't...I can't."[/bg]

[Dr Archeville]

Archeville had kept the Search Engine trained on Bombshell while Scarab talked, both so he'd know if anything suddenly happened (say, an attack by a supervillain), and in case Scarab lost track of her and needed her found again.

"" he muttered in response to the last words he heard before the disappeared through the portal, ""

Well, what are you waiting for? Switch over to the feeds in the Scarab's Lair!

No. I feel conflicted enough using this thing, even in the best of cases, and they deserve their privacy.

And I deserve to see some hot girl-on-g-

And how would you be able to enjoy it when I sing the songs from Rent through the whole thing?

...

"" the Doktor said grimly as he stood, and walked away from the Search Engine. ""

[Avenger Assembled]

Beeping on Elena's computer, a message awaited her from Fletcher Beaumont III, the disgraced hero turned journalist having gotten back to his old friend's ghost in record time. He'd spoken to his reporter and she was interested in talking to the Scarab in person at her earliest convenience. The reporter in question, who was not named in the email, had invited the Scarab herself to select the time and place of the rendezvous.

[alderwitch]

"You can," Talya insisted firmly with that small smile that said Elena was being rediculous, "You're one of the strongest people I've ever known - and I'm not talking about powers - you can cope with that uncertainty."

She reached out to take Elena in her arms gently, "Someday you'll show me around. Someday I'll stay for breakfast. We have a lot of somedays left still. I swear to you that I'm not going to go dying on you. I haven't broken a promise yet. Now, my love, you have matters no doubt to attend to and my good intentions won't last forever... Curiosity is my besetting vice. Well, one of them. There are so many to chose from."

[N/A]

[bg=#BF0000]"You're right, of course,"[/bg] Elena sighed, her eyes drifting to the blinking light on the teleporter junction room console, alerting her to an incoming message. She walked over to the console and typed in a few commands. The text of the email appeared on the monitor in front of her. She gave it a cursory first read, a slight scowl, followed quickly by an almost predatory grin. She glanced back up at Bombshell. [bg=#BF0000]"You're right. My time is always hotly contested, and today appears to be no exception. So...where in the world would you like to go today?"[/bg]

[alderwitch]

"Oh, send me to Ace. I need to bend his ear about a few contacts before I feed this slippery group a bunch of pretty lies about why our names were linked in the paper." Talya leaned in to kiss the other woman and then stepped back, linking her gloved hands behind her back after she'd set her mask on her face. She returned the predatory grin with one of her own, "Now, don't have too much without me, darling. But, do have fun."

[N/A]

The Scarab tapped the keyboard a few more times, and another portal tore open behind Bombshell. [bg=#BF0000]"Please just be careful. Well, a little more careful. Watch your back, and think twice before trusting anyone."[/bg]

After her lover had disappeared through the portal, The Scarab rattled off a reply to the email. [bg=#BF0000]"Heroes Knoll. Tonight. Midnight."[/bg] Thanks to the combined efforts of Alexander Rhodes, Daedalus, and Viktor Archeville, the data passed through so many layers of encryption and so many servers, left so many false trails, that it was virtually untraceable.

[Avenger Assembled]

Heroes' Knoll wasn't quite where Joan would have preferred to meet. There were few discreet places to sit out in that public view, not when she was trying to conceal the number of limbs that hung low off her midsection, and just standing there for however long she'd have to sit through the Scarab lecturing her on how this one was different and was trying to chaaaange, singing an old song she'd heard plenty of times before. For that matter, the clothes she typically wore in her civilian identity were usually uncomfortably warm outside. But she visited after working hours and found a bench with a seat low enough that she could sit with her heavy cotton dress draped over her hips and thighs, and then came back around 11:30 to wait for the Scarab. Carefully taking a seat, she took out her legal pad and ink pen, turned on the sound-activated dictaphone she'd concealed in her dress, and waited for her interlocuter to arrive.

[N/A]

The next time Fusion looked down at herself, she noticed that she could see right through herself, to the bench underneath her! Her entire body had become semi-transparent. Before she had a chance to remark on her condition, she felt more than heard a voice in her head. A voice she'd heard only once before...

She blinked, and The Scarab was sitting on the bench next to her, also looking like a ghost or a hologram. [bg=#BF0000]You can relax now. None of them can see us, hear us, or even smell us. I'm screening us from the mind's eye of everyone in the area.[/bg] Despite the fact that she was sitting down, The Scarab's cloak still fluttered and waved, buoyed by unseen winds. [bg=#BF0000]The more we interact with our surroundings, the more fragile the illusion of our absence becomes. So telepathy is preferable to the spoken word.

And as you may recall if you've done your research, like any competent reporter, Bombshell was a hero long before she turned to crime. So there is a historical precedent for her redemption. But guiding and inspiring her down the path to righteousness is a task that requires a great deal of finesse. Your ham-fisted antics have thrown a spanner in the works.[/bg]

[Avenger Assembled]

Joan flinched, but like a good reporter didn't drop her pen. She fired back with defiance, more out of shock than anything else. Yeah, I heard all about path you've been inspiring each other down. Joan's mental voice was profoundly skeptical, very much how a reporter's should be. (Or so she liked to think, anyway.) She tried to get her pulse to settle. Certainly took me by surprise. Usually it's the men who think a nice butt makes you redeemable. As for Bombshell's record, if fighting Nazis made you a good guy, there'd be a statue of Joseph Stalin up here!

[N/A]

[bg=#BF0000]I have spent five-thousand years leaping back and forth across the barriers between genders, ethnicities, and cultures. In that time, Humanity has never failed to amaze me with its capacity for changing its own standards of beauty and desirability with alarming alacrity and frequency, often for no discernable reason. Truly, we are a fickle species. But while I admit my biology remains as responsive as yours, I have used my powers to see into far too many minds and souls to ever judge one of them by the flesh they are wrapped in.

Of course, you had no way of knowing any of this. Unlike your boss, who, frankly, should have known better. But rest assured, his motives in this matter are not entirely altruistic. Fletcher Beaumont is a good man, but he has fallen from grace more than once in his lifetime. And while some who know what it is to fall off their pedestals learn to empathize with others and withhold judgement as a result, others merely seize upon any opportunity they can find to drag anyone they fear is their better down into the mud with them.

I understand your skepticism. But she paid her debt to society, with interest. I certainly don't condone her past crimes. That would be why I stymied so many of them in the first place. But I also try to keep them in perspective. She is not some Doctor Stratos or Talos. Her amazing gifts were put to the service of Society once, and they can be again. But you are not helping.[/bg]

[Avenger Assembled]

What, you're judging him because he used to drink? That mental voice was no less skeptical, for all that Joan was still trying to cover for what she was learning. I see five thousand years of life hasn't made you any more tolerant of other people's mistakes. For the record, he's been on your side through this whole process. She jutted her chin out defiantly. Wearing a costume and having fancy powers doesn't make you any less of a human being, Scarab, or one that's any less prone to making mistakes. Or make you any less subject to the same laws as the rest of us. If your relationship's so innocent, be open about it! And stop her from actually committing crimes!

[N/A]

[bg=#BF0000]I have stopped Bombshell from committing too many crimes to list, and I have been doing it since before you were born.

I don't judge anyone who drinks...until the get behind the wheel. Then it isn't just their problem anymore. But his recovery, and his subsequent efforts to keep this city honest, have been a testament to his status as a true hero. Barring black marks on his record such as this. Were he truly "on my side," as you claim, he would have thought through the implications of this smear piece and killed it before it hit the presses. Or, at the very least, he would have contacted me for my side of the story. Because, like you, he doesn't have all the facts. And after everything I've done for this city over the years, after everything I've sacrificed, I think I've earned a little latitude. Not as much from you, but Fletcher Beaumont of all people should have given me the benefit of the doubt.

If you had the chance to watch the security tapes from the museum, you would have seen that Bombshell didn't actually steal anything. She could have easily slipped past their defenses and walked away with anything she could carry, leaving the rest of you none the wiser. Instead, she intentionally triggered the alarm, and waited for someone like you to show up. Because she had a very important message for me. I don't approve of her methods, or the waste of time or resources she caused the museum and their security contractor. But it is a minor inconvenience compared to the service she is providing.

Bombshell and I are not merely involved romantically. We are working together. She has been recruited by a group which is currently planning a terrorist action that could incapacitate or kill half the city. She has infiltrated that group, so that we can not only foil their plans, but obtain enough information about them to apprehend all the culprits, ensuring that they never again have such an opportunity. It is a delicate operation, one that you and Fletcher have probably shot to hell. She is risking her life to help me, you, and everyone else in the city. And now your sloppy, half-cocked soapbox-ranting thinly disguised as legitimate journalism has increased that danger one-hundred-fold. And for what? To sell a few more papers this month? Your Honor, judge thyself.[/bg]

[Avenger Assembled]

Actually, Joan thought, "he argued in favor of contacting you first. I was the one who persuaded him that the ethics of the trade required us to treat everyone the same, even if he knew you from old times. As for the security tapes from the museum, you could just as easily argue that she stopped because someone was there to catch her." She blinked, then tapped the side of her head and said out loud, "And I'd be careful who you call sloppy, sister. You're not my first esper."

[N/A]

[bg=#BF0000]A necessary precaution. I had to confirm that you lacked alterior motives. That you weren't one of my enemies, laying the groundwork for something...worse.[/bg]

The Scarab stood up off the park bench and pressed a button on one of the epaulets whose iconography shared her name. [bg=#BF0000]So, now the only question is...[/bg] Suddenly, The Scarab came into full view, no longer a translucent ghost. When Fusion glanced down at herself, she saw that she, too, had regained the appearance of full corporeality. A hole ripped open in the space behind The Scarab, a swirling vortex of swirling light crackling with electricity. [bg=#BF0000]Will you rectify your mistake, and get both sides of the story?[/bg] She held one hand out toward the portal invitingly.

[Avenger Assembled]

Hey, I'm not one of those anti-esper freaks, thought Joan equitably. I was just letting you know I could tell you were in there. She paused a moment, had a deep inner monologue, and made a decision. You're going to trust me with your story? Well, I guess I'd better trust you with mine. She smiled, and suddenly rippled into invisibility in a very familiar pattern, her skin shifting to perfectly match the park behind her. When she was visible again, black morphic molecules had poured out over her skin, leaving her clad in a black ridged costume, a white biohazard symbol on her chest as she peered at the Scarab through two big, expressive eyeshapes in her full face mask. You'd better be worth it, sister, she thought with a laugh, before leaping through the hole.

[Ecalsneerg]

Sometime later...

Beaumont, you can be so stupid. John Fraser dismounted his bike outside of Pyramid Plaza, taking off his helmet and he glanced up to Elena's apartment. Sliding his metal cane from the compartment under his bike, he briskly moved towards the front entrance, helmet under one arm as the cane clattered on the pavement. Better find out what Elena's going to do to you... Had anyone paid attention to him, he'd just look like some average joe in a shirt and trousers, perhaps getting on a bit.

But he walked past the front door and instead walked behind a decorative shrubbery. I suppose I could teleport from home, he pondered, examining the teleport beacon he held in his hand. But it's not natural, going from A to C without crossing B. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he activated the beacon and was transported in a glow of golden light to the Scarab's Lair.

---

Dropping to his knees momentarily upon landing, John came up in a crouch, tossing his helmet to the floor and resting on his cane. "Scarab? You here?"

[N/A]

John Fraser felt the voice of Elena Guerrero (and others) resonate inside his head the moment he stepped through the portal into the teleporter junction room of The Scarab's Lair. [bg=#BF0000]Hello, John.[/bg]

Some lights and beeps emitted from the control panel across the room, as Elena obviously took remote control of it. Another portal opened up in the "doorway" adjacent to the one John had just passed through. [bg=#BF0000]I'm in the command center. That portal should lead right over here, if you'd like to save yourself the walk.[/bg]

[Ecalsneerg]

Again, John forced himself to grit his teeth and walk into the portal. She's pissing about with me. In a flash, he'd arrived in the command centre, leaning on his cane and staring at Scarab with as neutral an expression as he could manage across his face.

"So. I assume you read the news, Elena," he begun, fighting back a smile. "So you already know why I'm here." Risking the privacy of my own head just to check Fletcher Beaumont is Ok... I've gone soft. "Did you take any action against Mr Beaumont or his newspaper?"

[N/A]

[bg=#BF0000]"You mean, did I hollow out his head like a pumpkin, leaving him a drooling vegetable in a nursing home?"[/bg] Elena laughed. [bg=#BF0000]"No, I did not exact terrible vengeance upon my old comrade for his betrayal. I didn't even cancel my lifetime subscription to the Freedom Ledger. Fletch and I did exchange some very harsh words, since neither he nor his reporter bothered to contact me for my side of the story before printing that smear piece. If they had, I would have been able to explain how Bombshell is working undercover to help me flush out a terrorist cell. Maybe then they wouldn't have blown that entire operation to Hell, or signed my lover's death warrant."[/bg] By the end of her tirade, Elena's amused grin had faded into a scowl. John had rarely seen her fume like this without a mask on. [bg=#BF0000]"But why should the safety of millions of innocent civilians, let alone that of the greatest love of two of my lives, stand in the way of Fletcher Beaumont finally being able to drag that moralizing bitch down off her pedestal and into the mud with the rest of the sinners? After all, he's been waiting thirty-two years for the chance to prove that we're all no better than he was."[/bg] Her fingers gripped the edge of the console she sat in front of so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

[Ecalsneerg]

John stood quietly and pensively for a few seconds after his rant. "Fair enough. So you love her, and thus noone is allowed to do her anything that could be construed as wrong." He shook his head. Well, here goes. Goodbye, free thought. Fletch, you owe me. "You ever met the new Britannia? She's a media darling, face of the country. What she does, it's in the papers. And here... well, superheroes are a bigger deal in Freedom City. You're the Scarab. What you do and say will go in the papers."

"Fletcher isn't in the wrong. Like you said, he's in the dirt. Would any other journalist have come to collaborate with you on protecting your love life? No, and neither will Mr Beaumont, because after thirty-two years, he's a journalist, not a superhero. Covering up your operations isn't his job. It's yours, and it's Bombshell's."