Angela "Angel" Wagner (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crawler_kid) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nextgenerationmarvel2016-03-10 09:11 pm
crawler_kid) wrote in nextgenerationmarvel2016-03-10 09:11 pm
Six Months Later -- The New Mutants
It had been a very strange six months for the New Mutants. With everything that had gone down with the X-Men, they had reaped some of the benefits of being associated with them, experiencing a surge in popularity, albeit on filtered through the still somewhat unstable and FOH harboring New Jersey climate.
Angel was also damn certain someone was following Sara and her around on campus. She hadn't yet had to teleport them into one of the campus fountains or anything like that, but she was certain it was close.
Her own life was falling into order well enough. She'd shifted her major, applying her gen eds and some of her other courses into a theater major. She natural flair and presence helped considerably, and theater folk were largely some of the most accepting she'd known.
Not too bad a time to be a mutant, all things considered...
Angel was also damn certain someone was following Sara and her around on campus. She hadn't yet had to teleport them into one of the campus fountains or anything like that, but she was certain it was close.
Her own life was falling into order well enough. She'd shifted her major, applying her gen eds and some of her other courses into a theater major. She natural flair and presence helped considerably, and theater folk were largely some of the most accepting she'd known.
Not too bad a time to be a mutant, all things considered...
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"This is weird. I found it stuck in the front door, no postmark. How'd they manage that without setting off the alarms?"
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"What in tarnation...?"
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"Somebody out-ninja'd me," he didn't sound happy about that. He would need to tinker with the security systems again. "Though how do you be more real than reality? In this dimension, I mean."
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Sara set the envelope on the floor, stepped away from it, and lasered the flap open. When nothing jumped out, she picked it up, and pulled out a small sheaf of papers. On top was a letter.
Dear Mutants:
We at the REAL NETWORK ™ ® © would like to make you all STARS! Mutants are happening right now, people want to know more, and we want to tell them all about YOU!
We propose a series of specials, or maybe an entire season, following the adventures of a group of hip, sexy mutants in the big city, and we think that group is you. Sounds great? Of course it does! Just look over the contracts I've included, sign 'em, and get 'em back to me, and we'll all go places together!
Yours,
Maxwell Phinkelbottom
tothemax@reality.com
1-800-555-MAXX
Sara stared at the paper. Her mouth opened and closed without words, then she held the letter out for the others to read.
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"There's ... potentially some value to maintaining positive media attention, but it's something that will have to be carefully managed. And a whole season sounds like a ridiculous level of commitment. We're all busy with our actual lives." No one more so than Stephanie, who had been burning the candle at about eight different ends for the better part of half a year now.
"But whatever we decide to do, I advise that we throw the contacts into the Shark Tank." Which was Stephanie's affectionate nickname for the Shaw Industries legal team.
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"I... no. I can't... I can't do that." He shook the He blinked and pushed back memories of Mojo's cameras following him.
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Sara's phone buzzed. She glanced down at it, and her eyes went wide with that deer in the headlights look when she saw the name on the caller ID.
"Ohmigod. I think it's them."
She swiped her finger across the screen.
"Hello? Yes... no... I mean, NO! How did you get this number, anyways? What? There's a directory for that? Ohmigod... no! We are not, and how did you manage to stick that letter in the door without getting cocooned by the security system? Really? Just like that? What? No. I mean, yeah, ok, I can kinda see your point about good publicity, but, no. Who'd want to watch us doing boring stuff, anyways? No, no, ok. I'll tell them what you said, but no promises! And don't call back! We'll call you if we change our minds."
She hung up, and looked at her teammates.
"He says it would be great public relations for mutants. And for Angel's career in the theater... he knows about you changing your major. He said he wants to feature Aiden's band, maybe make a video and help them get signed. And they used a really long selfie stick to get past the security."
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"It could be effective public relations for mutants. I think it is an option that is worth exploring, though I cannot commit to anything ridiculous like a full season, or can the rest of us.
However, I think it's vitally important that we agree on this unanimously. If we don't have a consensus, it's no good.
And as for who would like to watch a show about us?" She raised an eyebrow at the company. "Let's be honest about ourselves. We're all young, extremely attractive and dynamic people. We all have qualities that would be very attractive to a reality television audience.
Instead of wondering why they're interested, let's figure out what we're going to do about it."
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"Ah'm a little concerned they've got that much information about us," Angel said. "Ah think we need to look into these folks some more, see if they're legit. Not because we're takin' them up on anything, but because we need to know if they're some kind of threat."
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"My band would..." It was tempting to try to suck it up. Make something work for his band. He knew videos and other promotions were coming if they wanted to make it big.
But he remembered running along a beach and bullets ripping through his body as cameras followed him. The war movie had just been the start of the slate of features.
He shook his head. He tried to blink back the tears gathering in his eyes. "They're no better than Mojo. I can't. I'm sorry if you ladies want to, but I can't."
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Sara looked pensive.
"I should talk to Ray. See if they've heard from this bunch at the school."
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"Aiden ... would you feel all right with doing an interview or a television special with a different network? Someone who is less openly exploitative?" Stephanie knew some people who knew people- if this network was sniffing around, maybe someone else could be convinced to do something less invasive.
"I cannot say that I relish having cameras following me around on a regular basis, particularly the way those shows are generally edited. They'll create drama if none exists. Not to mention that our work is dangerous. But maybe we should consider our options for interviews?"
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"Ah'll talk to some folks in the theater department. See if anybody there's heard of 'em too."
Another squeeze. "We ain't gonna force you into nothin', Sugah. Ah'm ready to kick them to the curb right now."
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"I can, maybe, do an interview. Just... not by myself. Gomen nasai."
He rubbed at his eyes to try to push the tears back into their ducts for later. It didn't work, but he at least had a hand with an apple in it in front of his face.
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"Not by yourself, and not at all, unless you're really ok with it."
She looked up, talking to everyone now.
"That is, assuming we even do an interview. None of us really want to, and we've got resources to run this guy off if he keeps pestering us. Stephanie has scary lawyers. I have a scary telepathic sister. Aiden and Angel are, like, ninjas. And I could even talk to Bruce, see how the Reality Network likes it when spooky people in anonymous black suits show up asking about their phone records."
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But tonight, I don't know about you- but I think we'd all benefit from shelving all this unpleasantness and doing something fun. Like getting pizza. Or rooting out the forces of evil."