we hold these truths to be self-evident

[exceptfebruary]

WHO: Calendar Man, Joseph Kavinsky & YOU!
WHERE: De Chima Civil War Museum Gala, the streets of De Chima
WHEN: The Fourth of July!
WHAT: In Which There Is A Gala, Which Is Crashed, There Are Eagle Fireworks, Giant Uncle Sam, and the Declaration of Independence Is Almost Stolen
WARNINGS: Violence, injury, probably foul language, chaos, nigh-desecration of patriotic sensibilities, let me know if I should edit more in!

(( OOC: Please see this plot post! And if you're participating in any of the fights, you'll want to look at this follow-up too! Hit either of those up if you have any questions or issues, thank you! ))



THE GALA

The museum's gone all out for the exhibit, "240 years of America!", proud to be the host.

While there are American flags everywhere, the decoration is mostly tasteful but undoubtedly patriotic in nature. Everything seems to be a shade of red, white or blue.

A pair of smartly-dressed greeters at the lobby check tickets and coats, and for imPorts a flash of their tattoos in the dim light will get them through.

Once inside, the museum has a broad open floor-plan with large entrance-ways. Just past the lobby is the large main hall hosting the gala, the museum café with the open bar to the right, activities for the children or young at heart to the left, and the exhibit in the back.

The activities include presentations on American history, with actors in costume. There's also a whole row of costumes for dress-up and reenactment, from all sorts of time periods. There's even a museum-wide scavenger hunt you can get a list for from an attendant.

The main hall is split between a wide open space for dancing, and dozens of round tables with red white and blue flowers, and alternating table cloths in the same colours. The Café area has a buffet table, with a wide variety of cuisine, and some vegan and vegetarian options. And be sure to have a drink at the open bar.

There are quite a number of locals, those interested in history, local politicians, and of course, quite a few there for a chance to meet imPorts. Everyone is dressed to the nines, and be sure to appreciate all the fashions on display.

From 6-8 pm of the evening guests can relax, enjoy themselves, and partake of the festivities. They may even admire the artifacts on display, from all eras in American history, at least something from every war America has participated in, and many personal items of American presidents and other historical figures. The rest of the museum is open to those who came to gala, including quite a lot of important Civil War artifacts.

After eight, however, things get quite a bit messier.


THE FIREWORKS

There's quite a lot you can conceal in a suit jacket, if it's tailored just right, and nobody tailors like a dream thief. Nonetheless, laden with five rockets, his outfit does sit a little oddly on Kavinsky's frame, so he's grateful for the sweltering heat of summer. He carries his jacket over his arm, and leaves a greeter frowning at his rude reply. July the 4th is his favorite. It's a good day to be alive. Or you know. Not alive, whatever floats your boat.

Anyone who recognizes him immediately knows there's something strange about his presence here. He plays on his phone through a couple reenactments, and then sets off a proximity alarm to a handsome painting. He waves hello here or there. He has a bit to drink, is told he can't smoke.

And then at eight, he drops off his jacket and lights it on fire.

A waiter is the first casualty, running heroically toward the smoking garment with a fire extinguisher. When he's only five feet away, the whole thing suddenly bursts into light and heat and screaming noise. Five massive eagles, made of golden flame, erupt into the air. They immediately shoot apart from each other, shrieking, blowing over wineglasses, singeing paintings, and chasing patrons. They aren't the most dangerous thing this world has seen, but it is utter pandemonium for five minutes until they're spent.


CALENDAR MAN & UNCLE SAM

And after that, comes Calendar Man.

Julian Day has been looking forward to this for quite some time. On June 14th, Flag Day, he had even gone ahead and stolen the George Washington costume from the hit musical Franklin! for this purpose. With so many reenactors around, Julian easily slips inside during the chaos caused by his recruited fellow; just one of the actors, one dressed as George Washington.

Then he quietly starts stealing things. The alarms are already blaring by this point anyway. And just as the fireworks start to end, Calendar Man gets ready to summon his monster.

In the middle of the exhibit, visible to both those viewing the artifacts and those attending the gala, the rotting corpse of Uncle Sam seems to step out of the air itself, massive and terrifying. It's about 18 feet tall, and its top hat skims the ceiling, causing lights to fall and crash.

Julian takes that exact moment to smash the glass holding the Declaration of Independence and steal his final prize. His triumph achieved, Calendar Man calls to his creation, who lifts him from the ground.

Being raised up in the hands of his creation, Calendar Man raises his voice above the din, and cries: "Wishing you all a happy Fourth of July from Calendar Man, De Chima!"

Just so that everyone knows who's responsible.

The Uncle Sam joins in with booming laughter, oddly filtered as if it were speaking through a 60-year-old radio. Its voice, similarly eerie and echoed, is loud. "Stand and fight!"

The gala, already ruined after the fireworks, gets worse as the attendees panic, tripping over themselves to get out of the way. Soon the fight will start, and there’ll be plenty of people to rescue, structures to keep from collapsing, and artifacts to save.

Comments

Qubit

[superposition]

THE GALA

Qubit's actually not on the security team for a change, so he shows up a few minutes fashionably late. He's dressed pretty much the same way as always, although to his credit, his slacks are actually ironed and he's wearing a vest and tie. He declines to check his coat at the front.

Once inside, he makes his way to the bar and picks up a glass of champagne. There are plenty of activities, certainly, but he's not here for those. He's here because the alternative is being alone with his thoughts, and right now that's a bad thing.

9^th July 2009.

Although Qubit wasn't American himself, over two-thirds of the Paradigm was, so the Fourth was always one they stopped to celebrate. Last year they'd thrown the barbecue in downtown Sky City. Perfect weather, not a cloud in the sky. Red, white, and blue balloons. Himself and Bette and the twins sending up fireworks as the sun set. Tony showing off every so often by grilling a hot dog to perfection with heat vision. Families bonding, children playing tag with each other or catch with their dads, or posing for pictures with their favorite superheroes ...

... and less than a week later, all those people were dead. They were dead, and no one had seen it coming. In retrospect, the signs may have been there. Had he seen a flash of irritation on Tony's face when he was asked to do the hot dog trick for the umpteenth time? Or when yet another mom and small child approached him for a photo? Perhaps he had. Or perhaps his memory was playing tricks on him, as memories do. Hindsight is 20/20.

But... enough of that. Qubit came to this party to be social, on the off chance it'll distract him. But now that he's here, he's finding he can't bring himself to do it. Instead he hangs around the fringes of the gathering, occasionally sparing a "hello" for someone passing by, but mostly hiding out at a back table or a dimly lit wall or somesuch, nursing his drink. It's only early evening, but he's already visibly tired - or perhaps weary is more apt.

Please talk to him, somebody. He'd be grateful.

[liverletdie]

"Qubit!" announced a voice that was just a bit louder than earlier. Armed with a glass in one hand -- he rounded with a smile, either oblivious or ignoring the look of distraction, or was it sadness, on his face.

Dressed to the nines in an expensive tux, he could only lift an eyebrow when he took in the sight of the much more eccentric genius. He shouldn't be surprised that Qubit wouldn't be dressed quite as nice, but even so... he was almost disappointed, except for the fact that he'd made the effort to press his pants.

"Having fun yet?" he asked, before he took a champagne flute from a tray to hand straight toward him. A smooth gesture, although he looked at the drink for just a hair longer than normal. His eyebrows quirked. "You drink, right? For you."

[superposition]

Qubit's eyes darted up upon hearing his name, particularly in that voice. Tony was not high on the list of people he'd have expected to approach him tonight. He hesitated just for a hair, but ended up taking the glass. Had to give the man some credit, even if Tony was going to try something (already pretty unlikely), he wouldn't do it so overtly. You're just paranoid, Qubit, part of him said, but another part whispered Am I really?

"Thanks," he said, taking a sip. He hadn't really been planning on a second drink, but what the hell. He knew his limit and he was still a ways below it. Anyway, the alternative was leaving the alcohol with Tony, and that just felt like flirting with disaster.

"What brings you all the way out here? You're more the type to gravitate toward the center of attention," he added. It almost sounded casual, like a friendly jab, but his dour expression added the underlying What do you want.

[liverletdie]

"What, a guy can't dominate an entire room?" he asked, but the smile on his face said that he was joking, at that. "No, I thought I'd... you know, see who else was here," he watched Qubit take the alcohol, and drink.

Sometimes, he couldn't help the flare of jealousy that surged through him, incomprehensible and raw, especially after... everything that he'd been through. Alcohol -- the thought of it -- it still left his throat dry and his fingers shake. He still reached for it, on impulse, and couldn't help but take it.

The fact that he was passing it off said enough, didn't it? Of how easy it would be to fall into that. "You don't look like you're having a very good time. Not your kind of thing? Patriotic galas, and all that?"

[superposition]

"It's not that," Qubit said automatically, his eyes darting sideways. Was it that obvious, how out of sorts he was? Everybody seemed to be calling him on it. He waved his free hand dismissively. "Had a long day, that's all. You know how it is."

[liverletdie]

"Uh huh," he said, his voice dry.

He even tipped his head, in the way that said -- very clearly -- that he didn't believe it for a second. He gestured toward the champagne flute with his glass, the liquid barely even sloshed. His lips curled into a smile, the picture of bitter irony. "You know, normally I'm not the kind of person to encourage anyone to actually drink to cope, but..."

But...

"You look like you need it. Even I don't believe that lie. ]

[superposition]

Qubit visibly bristled. He was a lot of things, but not a liar. It had been a long day, because he'd spent most of it in the same line of thought - not a straight line, either, but one stubbornly circling the drain, dragging him down in an endless, asymptotic spiral. Approaching the bottom, but never quite hitting it.

But Tony Stark was not high on the list of people he was willing to confide in about this. Also, there were only two living people on that list, and he hadn't seen either of them in close to a year. He packed the flash of anger back down.

"I'll take it under consideration," he said, albeit bitterly, and took another sip of champagne. "Believe what you want. Anyway, aren't we in America? Nobody asks how you're doing and actually wants to know."

[caduceusvalkyrie]

Angela hadn't been at the gala for very long and had been wandering around for an hour or so before she spotted Qubit on his own. He was a familiar face so she made her way over to him with a drink in one hand a a purse that matched her dress in the other. She was smiling as she got closer to him and it turned a little sad for a second when she could see how he was holding himself.

"Hello Qubit, are you okay?"

She didn't know if he had just been here for a long time or found gatherings like this to be incredibly tiring. Which they really could be and she hadn't had the opportunity to really go to one in a very long time. Nor had she really had the chance to celebrate the fourth of July either as she often tried to pretend not to notice the holiday.

[superposition]

It took Qubit a moment to recognize Angela out of uniform, but when he did he acknowledged her with a little nod and a polite smile. "Angela. I'm fine, it's just been a long day." Not technically false. He was fine, because he needed to be. That was all there was to it.

"How've you been? You look lovely," he added, taking care that the latter part should sound more like a statement of fact than an attempt at flirtation.

[caduceusvalkyrie]

"It always is on this holiday, isn't it?"

The preparation, the build up to the day in some cases. Then the actual day with parties everywhere, working with people that celebrated it and being exposed to this kind of holiday on such a level. To then...go without those people and feel even more exhausted by it. If Angela knew anything about Qubit's past then she would sympathise more with him.

She smiles a little more and looks down at her dress and brushes her hand against the non-existent creases.

"Oh, thank you. You look good yourself."

She's noticed the attempt.

[superposition]

Hah... he really wasn't trying to flirt, don't worry. And he was reasonably sure she just said that out of politeness anyway, since for one thing, he had to be like ten years older than her, and for another he looked basically no different than he would any other day.

"Not a fan of the Fourth?" he inferred, and took a sip from his glass. Not too surprising, that. "Where're you from, out of curiosity?" He wanted to say her accent sounded Swiss, but better not to assume.

[caduceusvalkyrie]

Well, it was always a possibility that he was older, but then there wasn't exactly a way to be sure unless he asked. Which, well, a lady never tells? He might not have made a huge effort, but hey, even a little was good.

"Not so much these days. It used to be fun but now it's just...it's a reminder.

Oh, I'm from Switzerland."

[superposition]

(So he was right! Good guess, Qubit.)

Reminder quieted him, though. "Did something happen?" he asked somberly - but then, catching himself, he added, "I don't mean to pry."

Re: Qubit

[incogneto]

Who knows why Erik is in this corner that Qubit's found himself in, but he seems to invite himself to the table, dropping off his drink and a small plate of hors d'oeuvres, and sitting in companionable silence for a few seconds. "Would you like a coffee?" he offers. "I don't think they're serving any, but I'm sure I could help you locate a cup."

[superposition]

Qubit eyes Erik as he sits down, but there's no real reason not to let him. He holds up a deferring hand and shakes his head to the question. "Thanks, but no. I've work in the morning, I ought to sleep at some point." After a moment, he points offhandedly at the plate of hors d'oeuvres. "What've you got?" He hasn't really had enough of an appetite to investigate the buffet yet.

[incogneto]

He pushes his plate over slightly, because man, this guy looks rough. "The salmon tartare isn't bad. But I'd stay away from the arancini." He took a bite out of it and apparently couldn't find a napkin to hide the rest in.

[superposition]

Rest assured, Qubit has no intention of taking anything that's already got a bite out of it. But he does nab a cracker and try a bit of the tartare. "Mm. You're right, that's not half bad." That's all the more he takes, though. If he really ends up wanting something to eat, he can get it himself.

"Have we met, by the way?" he adds.

[incogneto]

He's got a few more recommendations, but most of them are for drinks... he's thinking maybe not. "I don't think so," he replies, and extends a hand. "Erik Lehnsherr."

[superposition]

Ah, drat. He really prefers it when they don't go for the handshake. He still does it, of course, without hesitation. It's a textbook handshake, firm, but only barely long enough to count as polite. "Qubit," he says. "A pleasure."

Ignoring the familiar burning sensation in that hand, he gestures generally with it to the rest of the party. "How are you enjoying the festivities?"

[mostlysunny]

Dimly lit walls are a little less dimly lit when Kara walks around them. She's enjoying herself immensely, and it shows in the glow she's emitting, not bright enough to be distracting but certainly bright enough to be noticeable. Why, she has no idea yet, but give her time, she's only just arrived yesterday and it had been enough of a flurry trying to get used to her new house, her new world, and scraping together a dress for tonight.

But even someone like Kara needs to step away from the center of the party and off to the side, which is where she hears a little breath that isn't quite a sigh but still sounds heavy. She hesitates, but she's a helper at heart, so she approaches a little slowly. "Um, hi. Is this table open?"

[superposition]

Kara's not a person who's easy to miss, nor to mistake as anything other than an imPort. Qubit glances up at her as she approaches, and shifts in his chair slightly, but then indicates the rest of the seats with his palm upward. "Last I checked. Do you need me to move?" If she's looking for seats for a group, for instance...

[mostlysunny]

"What? Oh! No, don't, you don't need to move. I was just, um, wondering if I could join you. I mean, I don't want to impose!" But how else is she going to meet new people? Of course, interrupting someone on their own in a corner isn't usually the way to meet new people, which is why she's dimming fast, but there's still the hope that he won't mind the company.

[superposition]

Fortunately, as it turns out, he doesn't. He relaxes somewhat, a half-smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "No, no, by all means, have a seat! Truth be told, I'd be glad of the company," he says. "I don't think we've met? I'm Qubit."

[mostlysunny]

Oh good, she won't need to wander awkwardly away. There's a little relief as she tugs out a nearby chair and perches on it with a smile. "We definitely haven't. I'm Kara, Kara Danvers. I just got here yesterday, I don't know anyone yet, not really. ...a few people know me, but not me-me, I guess." Alternate universes are pretty strange.

[superposition]

Qubit nods, understanding. "Let me guess. Someone's telling you you've been here before, but you don't remember any of it? That happens occasionally." The Porter is also pretty strange.