Fifteen diplomats sat around the table, with the UN Secretary General at one end and Paladin sitting at the other. The Secretary General was trying to keep everyone placated. Paladin looked bored.
The UnitedChineseRepublic’s Security Council representative was shaking his head vehemently. “You cannot simply declare yourself to be a country! And China is not going to tolerate a ‘nation’ of metahumans raising an island and declaring it sovereign territory in Chinese waters!”
Li Dawei was normally a calm and polite man, but the American’s disrespectful slouch and refusal to even give him the courtesy of his full attention was making him quite irate. Of course Paladin’s well-known disdain for China did not help.
“They’re not Chinese waters, and quite honestly, I don’t care what you think,” Paladin said, in a bored, dismissive tone. Li Dawei gaped, and looked ready to implode.
The handsome blond superman swiveled about in his chair and set both feet on the ground. “You all seem to think I’m asking permission. I’m not. I’m informing you of my intentions. As a courtesy.” He stood up. “But you really don’t have any say in this. If the UN chooses not to recognize us, fine, but you’ll still have to deal with us.”
He stalked out of the room while the Security Council and the Secretary General stared, with their mouths open.
Out in the hallway, Paladin’s personal assistant followed after him clutching her datapad. “You can’t do that!” she said to him in a low voice.
Marcia was in her mid-30s, an attractive African-American woman who had been Paladin’s secretary, scheduler, public spokesman, and all-around go-to girl for twelve years. She was the best assistant he’d ever had, and he trusted her completely. She was one of the only people in the world who could get away with chewing out the most powerful man in the world.
“I do that all the time,” he retorted.
“Well now is not the time to give the finger to the entire Security Council!” she hissed. “You’re trying to get them to recognize you as a sovereign nation presumably because you want to be part of the international community and be recognized as a lawful entity, rather than a rogue state. You can’t win legitimacy by storming out of the room like a child having a tantrum!”
“They’re the ones acting like children. Same crap for the past 50 years. The powers that be have fought me every step of the way, trying to hold onto their old powers and privileges. I — we — have lifted millions out of poverty, turned deserts into farmland, ended wars, cleaned up pollution, saved the rainforests, and pushed science and technology forward by centuries, and they reacted to everything we did as if we were trying to destroy civilization. They want to pretend that Earth still exists in isolation and that metahumans are still a few freaks that can be dealt with the same way you deal with either celebrities or natural disasters. Well I’m sick of it. The truth is they should be kissing our asses, every one of us who uses our powers to make the world a better place, or just for not using our freaking powers to do whatever the hell we goddamn feel like! We could rule--”
“God! Don’t go there!” Marcia’s tone was sharp and her expression alarmed. She stared at him.
The first part of Paladin’s rant was familiar. She’d heard it plenty of times before, and mostly agreed with him. But when he started talking about ruling – he sounded dangerous. Like the very MetaHumans he had fought for decades, and the ones who still gave the public reason to fear all metas.
He didn’t sound like himself. Paladin had always been arrogant and prone to saying and doing whatever he felt like, and thumbing his nose at whoever didn’t approve. But underneath his aggressive self-confidence had always been a core of humility, and a sincere belief in the old adage that with great power came great responsibility.
Never before had he sounded like one of Proteus’s followers. The idea of Paladin going over to the Teragens was terrifying.
They had reached the Plaza outside. Paladin looked out across New York City, where old landmarks like the World Trade Center and the Empire State Building were now dwarfed by a forest of newer, taller buildings.
“Sorry,” he said, looking back at Marcia. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”
He didn’t look old. He looked exactly as he had when he first appeared in the skies over San Francisco, over 50 years ago. Whatever it was that made him literally invulnerable to any force in the known universe — Terran scientists’ best guess was that every cell in his body generated a “quantum field” that kept his molecular structure in a state of impenetrable stasis — apparently made him immortal as well. It was nice being a handsome blond demigod preserved in a perpetual state of youth. But sometimes he wondered if, a hundred million years from now, when whatever life was left on Earth had evolved beyond anything he recognized as kin, he would still be as eternal and unchanging as he was now. That was a depressing thought, and lately he’d been brooding a lot.
“I need some air,” he said. “I’ll check in later.” And without another word, he took off. Marcia blinked as he rose into the air, then winced as only half a mile above the city, he shot skyward in a flash. Sure enough, a sonic boom followed a second later. Most New York architecture was now strong enough to withstand hurricane-force winds, so all that happened was a few windows rattled, but she knew the FAA would be calling her soon to complain.
She shook her head as a fiery trail heralded his ascent into the stratosphere. Paladin was supposed to keep his speed at reasonable velocities, especially over populated areas, but in his current mood….. He was probably accelerating with the force of a thousand Gs, traveling over 20 miles per second, fast enough for the friction to ionize air molecules into plasma against his skin.
His assistant sighed as she got into her car and floated off towards the PaladinFoundation’s New York headquarters, in Old Harlem. Maybe he’d go walk on the moon, or leave comet trails across the Venusian sky, or maybe he’d just float in solitude for a while, out in space. And hopefully come back to Earth in a more reasonable state of mind.
Obviously, most updates will be done by the GM. However, players may update or edit information here too!
Basically, I trust the players to know the difference between "providing information" and "stepping on GM privilege." Don't create new facts, events, or NPCs about the world without checking with me first. If you don't know something, mark it with a ???... feel free to treat these as requests for clarification by the GM.
Obviously, don't casually delete or edit stuff other people have written, but it's OK to correct factual inaccuracies or mispellings, grammatical errors, etc.
Comments (0)
You don't have permission to comment on this page.