Old Wolf's Warnings

September 10, 2014:

Carol Danvers, Alan and Fenris meet in a bar.

The Shining Star

A rather upscale bar for businessmen


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

The Shining Star is one of the nicer places in downtown Metropolis, the sort of place that really plays on the mid-century modern vibe of the city with lots of high windows, shining chrome, and classic cocktails. It's a little bit nicer than the places Carol usually goes for a drink after work, but she's trying to settle into a new city and a new position, which means trying out a few other new things. And when you can change your outfit on a whim, it's really much less work to get changed for a nicer bar anyhow.

She's claimed a spot at the bar, wearing a dark pencil skirt and a red silk blouse as she stirs a straw through her martini, watching the people who arrive as their work days come to an end.

"I don't care what delaying tactics they're using." Alan's saying into his phone as he walks into the common room from the back. His other hand carries a tumbler. "Tell them to sign by noon tomorrow or the deal is off and we'll buy a different station. Which means you either get them to sign or find me another station in Rio that's even better than that one." He doesn't bother with good-byes before disconnecting the call and sitting at the bar. "Refill, Dan."

Fenris, or 'Jeremiah Wolfson' as he's often known, does not usually come to Metropolis. However he had to take care of a troublesome bear up in Adironack State Park and that wrestling match deserves a stop at a mead ha- er… bar, on the way back. The Shining Star is a nice place, or was tenty years ago. He figured he'd pay a visit.

The reaction he gets is… more or less the usual one when the lean, predatory man comes in. He ignores it. No point really in acknowledging it and making it worse.

"It's like you're building an empire or something," Carol says as Alan steps up to the bar, a brief smile flickering across her features. "Aren't you going to run out of money one of these days, or did they just start letting you print it?" She spins her stool halfway, glancing toward the doorway as Fenris walks in. There's definitely a moment of assessment, the sort of thing that seems like habit, but it doesn't last longer than a glance.

"It's a funny thing…" Alan says as he glances down the bar to where Carol's sitting a coupld stools down. "Once you get a certain amount it just keeps multiplying all on its own." He takes his Manhattan once the bartender has set it in front of him. "How are you liking Metropolis, Carol? Miss Gotham yet?" This is obviously a joke. Miss Gotham? The vague rustling of reaction and shifting of attention gets him to look over at Fenris.

Jeremiah, long coat, odd oak rod and all, sits down at the bar and quietly orders a scotch on the rocks. After a moment he looks down the bar at Alan and Carol and smiles. "Evening." He's got a deep, resonant voice. Bad vibe off him aside he seems friendly enough.

"So much. You know, I haven't been mugged all week, and it's really interfering with my excuses to buy new purses," Carol replies to Alan with a wry smile, shaking her head. "No, Metropolis is nice. The kids you've got in the newsroom here are nice, too. A little bit nicer than you expect most people to be, but on the flip side, they were naive enough to go into journalism, so the impressive part is that it hasn't worn off yet. The Kent kid's got promise, though." She takes a sip of her drink, leaning around Alan slightly at Jeremiah's greeting. "Evening," she offers back pleasantly.

"I'm sure you'll beat that out of them." Alan states. There's a reason her moved her from the Gazette and the Planet can use some Gotham… hardness. Nice is nice but hard hitting journalism needs more than that. "Keep an eye on Kent. I like that story he did on Stark and he turned down my job offer." Which just motivated him to increase his offer for the Planet. "You got my memo?" He looks down at the other end of the bar at the greeting. "Evening." He eyes the rod a moment before asking "Harry Potter thing?"

'Jeremiah' follows Alan's gaze down to the rod, a two foot length of oak, stout and apparently having seen some use as a club. "Evening. Just a bit of Native art. Sometimes having a long stick in the woods can be handy." He sips his scotch before offering out his hand. "Jeremiah Wolfson. Park Ranger. Pleased to meet you mister…?"

"I got your memo," Carol nods to Alan. "Kent's interested in taking on LexCorp next. I figured I'd let him pick this round, ease him into things before he tries to write on some of the more popular sorts." As Jeremiah introduces himself, she offers another small smile, eyeing the club as well. "Hell of a thing to carry around."

"Scott. Alan Scott." he answers. "Nice to meet you, Ranger Wolfson. And I can see that. Fight off the smaller predators that you don't want to shoot. Or in the case of the city, that you don't have jurisdiction to." Carol gets a nod. "It's your news room. Handle it - and him - how you see best."

"Handy yes." The ranger notes with a smile. "Or nudge things you can't quiiiite reach." Or use it to whip the winds around, naturally.

"Nice to meet you Mister Scott. Pardon me for prying, but you wouldn't happen to be the same Mister Scott that's the CEO of the GBC would you?"

"Nice to get that freedom," Carol says, raising her glass in a brief salute toward Alan. Sipping, she takes advantage of the opportunity to get a better look at Wolfson. There's certainly something professional about the way she looks him over, measuring.

"Just till you screw up." Alan points out, grinning at Carol before nodding to Wolfson. "I not only would be but I am. Looking to change careers? I can give you the email of our submissions department."

Wolfson is tall and lean faced. He's got a hunter's build and, as felt before, a definite predatory air about him despite his friendlines. "If ever I am I'll keep you in mind, Mister Scott." He says, inclining his head to the man breifly before turning to regard Carol with a rather intense gaze. There's nothing particularly malicious about it. He just doesn't blink. It's a habit the god-wolf never broke himself of.

"Carol Danvers," Carol replies to that look with a small smile, offering out a hand. All mystical things aside, she's spent enough time in the Air Force and the CIA not to flinch at those sorts of looks. Never let them see you flinch. "Recently of the Daily Planet, and oh so charmed to work with this fine gentleman."

There doesn't seem to be anything but curiosity behind the gaze and he ends it soon enough. "Pleased to meet you as well Miss Danvers." His smile sharpens a little. "So, may I ask what two unusual people like yourselves are doing in a bar? Ought I be worried? Things have been getting strange in the parks and New York of late."

"Unusual?" Carol laughs, raising her glass with a shake of her head. "Hardly. The only thing unusual about us is that we're high enough in the office hierarchy to get out for happy hour drinks instead of having to wait until after dark when the young kids all come out. What sort of strangeness have you been seeing, though?"

High enough being an understatement in Alan's case. Though he's always on call so it's a mixed bag. "Just relaxing after a long day of familiarizing myself with the Planet. GBC recently acquired it." And you can only get a feel for something from the inside no matter what the prospectus says.

Carol doesn't scent right, for certain and Alan positively radiates mystical power, so the god-wolf doesn't have any problems leaning in to murmur. "Oh, the usual. Demon summonings, creatures from the other side, renegade wannabe mages… It's all getting quite out of hand unfortunately. I take it you've been more fortunte here so far?"

Carol Danvers quirks a brow, turning a sidelong glance toward Alan. "Uh huh," she says slowly, setting her drink down on the bar. "Well, I can't say I've run into any of those in Metropolis. How about you, Alan?" Maybe she's being patronizing to the nice, crazy man. It's hard to tell precisely from her tone.

Alan's brows rise at that laundry list of 'unusual'. "Really. Do you have any evidence and would you be willing to talk to a reporter about it all?" he asks, adding to Carol "Assign someone if he does." before looking back to Wolfson. "Out in the woods? Have you seen a lot of this? Who's been dealing with it? Superman? The Justice League?"

"I have. And a few other interested parties. I could show you plenty of evidence though I question the wisdom of putting it in the press. The woods, yes. Ley line junctions, places of power, but also in the city. I've squished more Central Park summonings in the last month than I really care to recall." The god-wolf cants his head slightly. "I assumed that two beings of such obvious power would be discussing 'matters of state' as it were."

Carol eyes Fenris for a long moment, taking another sip of her martini. "Matters of the Daily Planet," she replies, still not quite ready to admit to anything. Plenty of training in that. Although she can't exactly go with name, rank, number here. Since it's not a real interrogation. "Magic isn't really my wheelhouse." And that's true in all senses.

Alan also considers Wolfson a moment before nodding once. "Many people underestimate the power of the press in today's world but it still able to change minds and hearts. An informed and educated citizenry are much more difficult to control. And today, it's even more important that they are able to read about magic and villainy so they can base their opinions on facts and not fears."

"I'll admit, it's a bit of a selfish fear. The last time that mortals learned about magic en masse, the result was two hundred years of witch hunts, inquisitions and repressions." There's a pause as 'Wolfson looks away, lost in thought. "It was bad for everyone. I remember."

"The whole idea of magic is terrifying to people who don't have any control over it," Carol points out. "Science can be controlled and replicated by anyone. That's the joy of guns. You can hand one to an eighteen year old kid and have him or her be a relatively effective soldier in just a few weeks. Magic's a little more complicated. And less accessible, if I understand the mechanics correctly."

"But they didn't learn about magic." Alan points out. "They whispered about it. In the dark, in the church, gossiping and accusing." And now he does cast Carol a glance. He remembers?

"Depends on the format, but yes, that's correct Miss Danvers." Fenris nods. "They learned it existed, but you're correct. It didn't come into the light. It was chased by fire and sword deeper into the shadows. I don't relish the thought of living through another time like that. That said, I'm quite happy to talk to people interested in helping. As I said, things are getting out of hand. I'm starting to suspect it's being directed."

Carol shrugs ever so slightly to the look from Alan. It wouldn't be the strangest thing in the world lately, right? "I hate to be the one to tell you, Mister Wolfson, but it's always times like that," she points out with a shake of her head. "We just like to pick and choose which things we're going to persecute people for. Whichever thing we can't understand, or can't control. The things that make us feel weak."

"I'm certainly interested." Alan agrees. "You can be off the record if you would feel more comfortable that way." He's not a reporter but he certainly knows how it works and he can give the recording of the interview to an actual reporter. Just then Duran Duran's Rio starts playing and he reaches for his phone. "Sorry, I need to take this. Talk to me." he answers the phone then stands as he listens. "Hold on. It was nice meeting you, Ranger. Carol, call me tomorrow about this. Okay, continue." He's obviously talking to whomever called him as he heads out the door.

"Mmmm. I remember." The god-wolf smiles. "Humanity's abiltity to divide itself has never ceased to amaze me. That said, another inquisition would go almost as badly for normals as it would for the supernaturals. Frightened creatures tend to lash out, be they human or otherwise and that's as true for a witchling or a vampire as it is for a regular joe with his back against the wall."

Fenris nods goodbye to Alan as he leaves and smirks at Carol. "Not that you need any primers in this. You've seen in your recent history how this works. The Brotherhood of Mutants gave a taste of what happens when the uniquely gifted are pushed beyond their limits."

"Will do," Carol nods to Alan, turning to face Fenris once the boss is gone. "All right, buddy," she says, even her demeanor shifting to something a little bit more no-nonsense. "I'm not sure where you're from and I'm not sure what your agenda is, but you really, really can't just run around saying certain things, all right?"

"Not to certain people, perhaps. But you are uniquely gitfed yourself, are you not? Certainly you don't seem quite normal." The god-wolf cants his head. "As for my agenda, I wish to be left in peace. Sometimes that means I have to stomp on things."

"Uniquely gifted," Carol echoes, summoning up a faint smile. "You could put it that way, yes. But I'm not really one for advertising it to everyone at the bar. And, like I said, magic isn't really my strong suit. When you've got something that needs punched, then we can talk."

"Keep an eye out for C'thulhoid monstrosities, in that case. I cover Metro too, but so far it's been really quiet out here. Perhaps they're scared of folks like you and Superman. Perhaps it's just easier in New York and Gotham. I haven't figured that part out yet. But if it doesn't come back under control soon I've no doubt you'll see some of it soon." One more drink and Fenris finishes off his scotch.

"Mmm. Excellent drink."

"Or maybe Metropolis doesn't have as many of the…what did you call them?" Carol takes another sip of her own drink. "Ley lines? Or it could just be that the shining exterior here puts off the people who like to call up monsters in the park."

"The city is somewhat less magical." Jeremiah notes with a nod. "Not that this has stopped the idiots doing it before. As I said, this is being directed. There's some evidence to support the theory that someone is causing or possibly using the chaos to accomplish a larger goal. None of the contenders are pleasant things."

"I'm afraid I'm new in town," Carol admits with a shake of her head. "But so far, I haven't run into anything unduly strange. Granted," she adds, smile slipping crooked, "I just moved here from Gotham, so it's possible my standards of weird have shifted in the last few months. But all the same, it seems mostly like bank robberies and corporate corruption here."

"Well, bad as that is, it does sound a bit less existentially threatening. Hopefully it stays that way for you." With that 'Wolfson' rises and offers out a business card. "Give me a call, though, if it starts getting weird."

"I'll keep that in mind," Carol nods, pulling out a card of her own and offering it over in turn. "Nice to meet you, Mister Wolfson. And let me know if you hear of any weirdness here in town."

The Old Wolf smiles and accepts the card. "Thank you, I shall. Have a wonderful evening Miss Danvers."

And with that he leaves a bill on the counter and turns to head out and back to New York.

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