Everybody wants to rule the world

[maskormods]

WHO: YOU.
WHERE: Downtown Cape Canaveral
WHEN: Wednesday January 15th, around 5 PM EST
WHAT: Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome.
WARNINGS: None anticipated; let us know if this should be edited.

Cape Canaveral. It's no longer the heat of the day and in January the temperatures will be livable; not too hot and not too cold, either. A pleasant change from the City, perhaps. The sun is on its way to setting but the last light of the day still fills the sky, bursting the city into color. The air smells like ocean.

The locals are friendly and smile and wave, looking on at you in awe. They'll approach if you ask for help, or a question, but they don't want to interfere, either; if you want to be left alone you probably will be. American flags can be seen in many windows and restaurants are rolling out their dinner menus. There's no parade, no big banners, but many storefronts have handmade signs and posters that read:

Welcome, imPorts! We love you!

The woman at the Porter told you what to expect: You know what your tattoo means, you've been given your file, and you know in a few hours they're going to be here to answer more of your questions and see if you'll stand with them or if you'll go off on your own. "It's your decision," one of them had said, but you were already told what you get if you agree and what you don't if you don't. After that's done, she told you, you'll be driven to your new homes.

In the meantime, enjoy the area, or try to. It may not be what you're used to, but after the apocalypse even Florida might seem like an improvement.

Comments

[enigmaestro]

"A tad. You've always seemed impenetrable." Edward rolled the word over his tongue, as if it were a marbled compliment heavy in his mouth. His arms folded over his chest, a conscious effort to make himself seem both alert and nonchalant; after all, it never did to underestimate Bane's intentions.

"But I suppose even you are bound to be influenced by external agendas," he said with an eventual smile. "Speaking of--"

He cocked his head westward, indicating the setting enveloping them. Sunny, snowless, middling in the sixties Fahrenheit -- hardly a winter by Eddie's northeast standards. But it was now their external influence, the environment they were both forced to adapt to. While this may not have inspired some sense of brotherhood, it did make clear that (for the moment) their agendas aligned: this was another thing to survive.

"Have you read your file?"

Eddie lifted his as per example, given it a disdained shake.

[breakyou]

Impenetrable. The word causes his brows to narrow. Edward Nygma is a man of words. Sharp tongue and intelligence. He does not choose any phrase lightly. Impenetrable, but not unbreakable.

It does not go unnoticed.

"Does that intimidate you?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. Bane judges himself against Nygma and finds a complex matter. In physical strength, Bane is assured victory. Nygma's mind, however, has promise. Although he utilizes it differently. Something about that seems naturally confrontational.

Unlike Eddie, in his suit and tie, Bane is dressed much more sensibly for this weather. He is used to a hotter sun, and Florida is not unkind to him. At Eddie's gesture, he follows his hand.

"I have," he responded, his tone flat. "I found it unpleasant, so I disposed of it."