IC - New York - Brotherhood NPCs:
~ Convention Center ~
The convention hall was a beautiful building, centred in a historic district of the city. The low ceiling was covered in intricate woodwork. The silverware was set beautifully, and pieces of modern artwork adorned the walls of the main reception hall. It was an unusual dining setup. Most of the time, tables were scattered about like salt. This time, the tables were arranged in spiraling shape. An appropriate symbol of unity. While most presidential receptions were held in stately halls with large windows overlooking picturesque views.
However, this was no ordinary reception. A night for the mutants meant that there would have to be extra security in place. The reception hall was windowless, located in the center of the building.
The hallways surrounding the dining hall had steel doors, lined with mahogany and were capable of being vacuum-sealed. Once the party started, no one would be coming in or out. If any terrorist, mutant or human, detected a poisonous gas attack, the doors would seal, protecting the diplomats and senators within. Armed Secret Service teams patrolled the hallways directly outside the dining room, while a special complement of twenty agents positioned themselves inside, lining the edges of the dining room.
[color=#00cc33;]"Only the best for the friends of the X-Men." [/color]Supremacy grinned at the sound of Terror's message. The gelatinous mutant was usually mute, a sad side-effect of having no discernible mouth. [color=#00cc33;]"It is all proceeding on schedule."[/color]
The night would open with a song sung by a children's choir from a local non-segregated orphanage. [color=#00cc33;]"I know for a fact that at least two thirds of the choir were orphans of a series of tragic in-flight accidents, courtesy of me."[/color] A selected child would then present a floral wreath to a certain key mutant lobbyer. According to the pamphlet, Professor Ramona Silvestra, dean of mutant studies at Harvard, and a minor mutant herself, would receive the wreath. [color=#00cc33;] "And unlike the Beast, her mutation is fairly minor. You've seen her in the papers. Bright pink markings on her face, aligning in wonderfully symmetric patterns that enhance her noble features. 65 years old, and doesn't look a day over 30. She's a powerful orator. Not on the speaking list."[/color] It was poetic. Victims of mutant attacks giving a mutant a peace wreath to an advocate for the X-Men, the very team that failed them.
After the choral performance, a Representative would introduce an elderly Senator who forefronted the early relationship with Charles Xavier. Then appetizers would be served. Followed by another introduction from another representative and yet another senator. The centerpiece of the evening would follow the main course. The President would step on-stage fresh from the airport and speak about his vision for mutants in America, before introducing Dr. Hank McCoy, legendary X-Man and head of Xavier’s school.
Now was a good time for mingling, and cocktails would flow freely for much of the night. Terror looked past the turbaned head of the Indian ambassador. It could see many familiar faces. Key friends of Beast’s den of traitors. Senators and representatives, from both sides of the party lines. Foreign diplomats, invited to see the American Dream alive and well. The First Lady, engaging in conversation with the socialite wives of key government bureaucrats. Just over two hundred souls, movers and shakers in the country.
Representative Sorensen, from Minnesota, stepped up to the microphone, introducing the orphan choir and signaling the start of the evening. The children began to sing.
There comes a time when we heed a certain
When the world must come together as one
There are people dying
And its time to lend a hand to life
The greatest gift of all
The borrowed smile Terror displayed was flawless, much like the other politicians and bureaucrats in the room. The lights dimmed and a single light appeared on a small stage, a flickering candle held by the leader of the choir. The other children clutched unlit candles in their hands.
We can’t go on pretending day by day
That someone, somehow will soon make a change
We are all part of God’s great big family
And the truth, you know
Love is all we need
The children sang crisply and clearly, as the candles were lit, one-by-one, illuminating earnest faces and bright eyes, skin tones ranging from brown to purple. Token mutants, parading for their human masters.
We are the world, we are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
Such lovely candles. Such angelic music. It would be a night to remember.