all I wanna do is (GUNSHOTS)

[retconman]

WHO: MAX LORD and YOU
WHERE: Around Heropa, various places
WHEN: March 7th - 14th (specify!)
WHAT: Max is involved in the budgeting assignment! And perhaps you are too. Or maybe not. That's okay; one need not stay on task the entire time.
WARNINGS: We shall see.


( A ) door-to-door | OPEN

[ This is the boring part. Max isn't here so much for "legwork" of such a literal capacity, but the nice thing about it is that it's easy. In short-sleeves and a tie and armed with a clipboard in his hand and a handkerchief in his back pocket, Max Lord expects that doing this on his own he can come up with a list a mile of long of local names supporting the cause of an imPort budget as well as promising generous contributions. He has the means to do so, after all, and make short work of the whole process; he figures also he can test the strength of his powers while he's at it as an additional bonus.

As long as no one interrupts him; then it's back to the old-fashioned way. He isn't a time-waster, but he even more isn't advertising. ]

( B ) fundraising | OPEN

[ Paperwork. Numbers. Money. To some people, this might be boring. Even to Max it's a little boring, but he's good at it so he can make the time. Although the set-up for the assignment is flexible and many people may well do their own thing, Max favors organization and has reached out to anyone else working with the budget to meet up and field ideas with him at his office or over lunch or whatever was convenient, to brainstorm what they can raise money for (besides simply having it there) and what could be done to make that money. It doesn't matter too much to him what other people do or want to do, but it does matter to him if he doesn't know what's happening.

Let no one say Max Lord doesn't have control issues. ]

( C ) choose your own adventure | OPEN

[ WHATEVER YOU WANT. ]

Comments

fundraising!

[iampretty]

[Two guys with charming/influence powers what could possibly go wrong.

Hans, thankfully, has opted away from his ridiculous princely garb and is instead wearing a nice polo shirt and some slacks. He's opted for the budget because really, he's still set on his idea of amassing as much power in this place as possible, and budgeting seemed like the best option. He knew a bit about finance-granted, he never had to directly manage the finances of the kingdom, but he had sat in on meetings.

As he spotted Max, Hans couldn't help but smile. He liked the man. There was something about him that interested Hans. Not in the way that other people did where they interested him because he wanted to find out just what their deal was (cough Chilton cough), but Max was interesting in a different way.]

Ready to work on some budgets? [Hasn remarked as he entered Max's office, with a little smile.]

[retconman]

[ It's foolproof.

Max grinned at Hans, broad and friendly, when the man entered and he stood up so he could shake his hand. There was something about Hans Max had taking a liking too, although he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He reminded Max of himself in some undefinable way, which must have been it; Max did appreciate Max enough for the logic to hold. ]

Let's get to it. Glad you could make it -- hope you found the place all right. [ He pulled two chairs out, one of each of them. ] A well-constructed city like this one has the cash to spare; what we need is the right equipment to strike the gold with.

[ So to speak. ]

Preferably nothing that involves getting the hands too dirty.

[ But only literally. ]

[iampretty]

[Finding the cash to spare while not getting his hands dirty? That's what he was gonna say. Of course, Hans takes that at literal value. He's perfectly fine with getting his hands metaphorically muddy if he gets him out of the Hard Rock Cafe and into the good graces of others.]

Now you're speaking my language, [he jokes, with a little laugh.] I'm sure that certain people here would be happy to help benefit the city.

[retconman]

[ All the better that Hans seems on board, although Max had a feeling he would be. He seems sharp, especially for someone that's adapting to a world that's probably fairly out of his depth. Max can respect ambition as long as it doesn't threaten his own. ]

Good, here I was hoping you'd say that. There's a lot of opportunity here that I bet is just waiting to be found under our feet but is wasted, in the meantime. Sad. But some people have no idea how to go about making money. [ Not him, his smile suggests. He pulls a cigar from his pocket. ] You don't mind, do you...? Have one, if you want.

[iampretty]

I don't mind, but I won't have one. Thank you for the offer, though. [Hans responded, shaking his head. He wasn't going to smoke, but he wouldn't prevent Max from smoking.]

So. Let's talk money.

[retconman]

My favorite subject.

[ And he's barely even exaggerating. Max stands up just to open his office window while he lights his cigar, before grabbing a clipboard and sitting back down. ]

Our first question is: what will people throw money toward? Second question: in a reasonably short amount of time. You can make an argument for charity-- [ He writes it down. ] ... Except the people who can afford it don't care about charity. I think a better angle would be a project.

[iampretty]

Prizes are always good, [Hans responded, with a frown as he put a hand to his chin in thought.] But again, where would we find them?

[retconman]

[ Prizes. It's novel. Max taps his own chin with a pen. ]

They'd have to be donated.

[ He wonders if it's too convoluted to solicit prize donations for a project that requires an entry fee. A little, but there is a margin of profit to be had. He diagrams this on his notes, drawing (poorly) a car with a ribbon it with an arrow pointed to a door, with an arrow pointed to a dollar sign ($!) with an arrow pointed back to the car. On the door he draws a big question mark. ]

Depending on the type of prizes. Or-- [ !!!! ] We accept monetary donations toward a prize. We'll just purchase something that only costs about a third of what we get in to raffle off.

[iampretty]

[Hans can't help but be a bit curious at what Max was drawing, looking over at the man's...car? Was that a car? It looked a bit like a car.

As Max continues talking, about monetary donations, Hans can't help but grin slightly, feeding off of the man's energy. If he was going to go that route, of purchasing something less expensive than their donations, Hans was going to have to reroute his ideas a bit. He was expecting Max to be a bit more...scrupulous was a horrible word. A bit less thrifty?]

Of course, if we do accept monetary donations, some people might want to be credited. Which, of course, we don't have to list what they donated, just simply that they did. [And here he leaned in, obviously getting himself a bit worked up, gesturing with his hands as he talked.] We'll simply make a brochure or give people a special thanks crediting them for their kind donation.

A

[centurybaby]

[ jenny isn't here to play along. at best, she can say that she's doing it to keep the system off her back while she figures out the range of her powers in this universe. at worst, she might be there to make things purposefully hard for a registered hero, either for her amusement or as an indirect dig at the big dogs in charge.

either way, she doesn't put much effort into their door-to-door mission. it's past the appointed time when she appears in a flash of electric blue light, a half-smoke cigarette dangling from her mouth as she approaches. ]

Hey. Are you Maxwell Lord?

[retconman]

[ It hasn't been long yet, but as Max had planned, he doesn't take very long per house at all; by the time Jenny voice catches him off-guard he's already got a list of names that extends about a third of the way down the first page on his clipboard and is about to ring a doorbell.

But of course he doesn't; he turns his head to look at her, thrown off stride for a moment. He confirms: ]

I'm Maxwell Lord. [ He waves some of the cigarette smoke away idly with his hand. ] At your service, although this isn't the best time. You're--?

[centurybaby]

Jennifer Quantum.

[ at your service. except not. even without stating it explicitly, she looks like the type of teenager that rebels as a principle. her jeans are torn, she has on an inferior rendition of her old leather jacket, and she's casually exhaling wisps of grey smoke in his general direction. ]

I'm here for the fucking assignment.

[retconman]

[ Oh, right -- the buddy system set-up. Max is an expert at suppressing groans, thank goodness, because the internal groan just then was enormous. He shoves his handkerchief deeper into his back pocket in defeat, knowing he can't go on using his powers for this now. ]

...Right. So do I call you Jennifer or Jenny? [ He pauses, then gestures to the door he's standing in front of. ] Have you ever done this before? Please tell me you have some experience.

[ He doesn't assume she does; Jenny somehow doesn't seem the girl scout type. ]

[centurybaby]

Just Jenny. [ she glances at the door, then back at him. ] I can tell you I've done it before, but it'd probably be a lie and you fucking know that.

[ definitely not the girl scout time. maybe if they gave out merit badges of interdimensional travel, or political takeovers. ]

But don't worry, gramps. [ dryly: ] I'm a fast learner.

[retconman]

Great. Well, how about this, I'll do the talking-- [ He gestures to himself for emphasis. ] And you can stand there and observe. If you put that cigarette out they might even consider not slamming the door.

[ It's in fact tempting to just make her put it out, but he won't stoop so low... just yet. ]

[centurybaby]

Right. Because watching you talk sounds so fucking thrilling.

[ naturally, she doesn't oblige him. in fact, it's a bit pointed, the way she takes a leisurely drag off her cigarette instead, exhaling a defiant mouthful of smoke. ]

You look like a charming fucker. I'm sure you can play these nice people just fine. Don't let a little smoking handicap you.

[retconman]

More productive, I bet, since people don't like giving money to children that swear at them.

[ He makes no secret of his annoyance, but short of grabbing the cigarette or using his power, he can't exactly control her or do anything else short of hoping she doesn't make an ass out of them both.

Well. In that event he'll erase the homeowner's memory of it and try again later. Nothing really to lose. He rings the doorbell and hisses: ]

Smile.

C · 3D ... Design ...? | March 10th

[selfequipped]

[There are a lot of things Kate Bishop is talented at when she tries. She's picked up a number of Clint's most difficult shots simply by seeing them once. She lead a team of Avengers (albeit younger ones), and she can throw together the plans to create a headquarters for her team. She's good at some aspects of these, and since she's taken this assignment, she's been looking into aspects of things, planning, and working it out.

Kate, too, has some control issues. But this is all research. She can google when she puts her mind to it, and she's savvy enough in business arrangements to really think about it.

The thing she is not is an artist. She isn't capable of managing these design programs, and as she's sitting in front of her computer growing increasingly frustrated (and hunting and pecking at the keys for more information), she sighs and ... tries to draw her plan by hand. Again, Kate is not an artist, so she just sighs dramatically and slumps in her seat, staring at the program in front of her that somehow has a "not responding" sign up.

Well, it's not like she's losing any work.]

Computers. [It's a single, dramatic declaration as if it's the computer's fault.

It's not the computer's fault.]

[retconman]

[ It's a single, dramatic declaration that gets Max's attention, even as he tries to concentrate on his own research. There's a thick book in his hand, pages heavily marked up with post-its, that he's been flipping through while walking -- pacing, even -- and looking to see what other useful information he can track down.

He worked with budgets and finances for years, but it isn't easy work finding anything public about Heropa's financial records, detailed breakdowns of the wealthiest residents and businesses, breakdowns of what the city budget is already divided for. Most of this information is probably at City Hall, he understands, but pushing someone there to let him in opens the door for a lot more work on his end right off the bat, he'd rather work with what is public and findable first and exploit that.

Hearing Kate, though, he stops pacing and heads in the direction of her voice, stepping up behind her, looking at the image, the computer, the back of her head. ]

I take it something isn't going well.

[selfequipped]

Did you know we can't just submit a drawing? [Of course he knows that, and she doesn't think that would be a vast improvement on this. Kate waves her mouse long the screen, which leads to a string of little arrows stretching across. After a moment of giving it a chance to switch, to erase those arrows, and to behave, she leans forward and types ctrl-alt-delete in some hope that that still works in this other world.

It had better.]

It's cramping my style. [Which is not entirely true nor how she would put things, but it is the wittier way of doing it.

Kate leans back slightly and turns her chair (which is naturally a spinning office chair) so she can look at him.] I expect things are going better for you.

[retconman]

Of course I know that. A drawing isn't a plan.

[ It's good-natured enough, mostly because although this is one of the areas where Max is a viking, it's not something wherein anyone's progress but his own reflects upon him, and as such he's more inclined to be patient about it. Amiable and not at all frustrated -- it's a nice feeling. ]

Things are going spectacularly for me, but we take these things at our own paces, right? My style shakes hands with this sort of thing. [ He glances at her screen, but it's not really his priority. He crosses his arms, shrugging. ] Maybe it's time to take a break?

[selfequipped]

I thought I could be a visionary, just maybe not with one of these. [Kate's hand waves at the computer without specifying exactly what she means. It might be obvious she means the program, but it could also mean the computer itself. The thing is, she is good at a great deal many things even if some might argue that she is largely directionless with her life outside of a certain getup, but she wouldn't agree.

She knows how to help. She knows she wants to help.

She's just bad at designing programs.

Just the same, she provides him with a relieved sigh and stands up, stretching.]

A break is what's needed before I start taking this personally.

[retconman]

[ Max gives the computer a tap or two against the side, the customary technique for dealing with problematic technology by hitting it, but it's brief; his interest in her computer program is very minimal.

He takes a glance at his watch. ]

We could always start dinner a little early -- won't be a problem with the reservations, I'll see to it. [ The Max Lord Way™. ] Maybe we'll come up with a solution to your problem.

[selfequipped]

Let me just take a trip to the lady's room before you make any calls. [There are days when Kate pretends not to be high maintenance, but this isn't one of them. Of course, there are days when she's not at all, so it balances out on some kind of karmic scale.]

It might work out even without it. [Okay, there's no way she'd be in there for too long. Or that long, but it's still better to give leeway]

[retconman]

Go ahead. No rush, we've got plenty of time -- well, we should.

[ Plus she might want to change, retouch makeup, whatever it is that goes into dinner preparation aside from the obvious other utilities of ladies rooms. Max sits on the edge of the table, one leg folded over the other and his hands folded together over his knee.

It'll give him an opportunity, too, to implant a couple of mental suggestions in the minds of the waitstaff so he won't have to bleed at the dinner table. No phone calls necessary -- just a clean handkerchief -- but he'll still whip out the phone if need be. He does for effect now, and adds after her: ]

Any dietary requirements I should bring up, while I'm at it?