The normal hustle-bustle of one-thousand-plus people can make a pretty heavy, rather annoying drone, if one were to stop what they were doing and concentrate on it. Almost like a bee-hive, with each worker buzzing about doing their business, combining to make for one really loud hive. That drone of everyday life, however, was halted violently in it's tracks by the erupting scream of one very pissed off young woman. Or at least, those within earshot (and it was a large range of earshot, trust me) rightfully assumed the scream that split through the buzz of downtown Metropolis like a butcher's knife through meat belonged to a female. People stopped their hurried paces along the sidewalks to stare, motorists following suit as the level of sound the scream reached seemed to vibrate their windows. There were more than one near-misses. Or near-hits, depending upon which point of view one wished to take.
The scream could well have reached it's 45-second birthday by the time it finally subsided, and an instant later, the crowd surrounding this presumably angry young woman seemed to explode apart with a very sharp "What?" Suddenly, the crowd dissolved into what might have been described as a bumbling bunch of stammering business men and women, singing together a chorus of shrugs and muttered excuses as they hurried to go back on their way. One young man, dressed very sharply in a three-piece Armani suit, snuck a glance at the woman as he passed quickly by her. He'd been unfortunate enough to have been rather close to the back of the crowd when the scream had been cutting through their eardrums, yet fortunate to not have been a target of the death-glare that had followed. While it was directed at another poor passer-by, he glanced into her intensely angry eyes, raising his brows as a reaction to seeing their strange color. One was blue…The other…Green? Yes. Green. The second thing he was able to notice was her straight, jet-black hair, though it looked like she'd been pulling on it more than once in the recent minutes past. As she turned more toward him, however, his eyes darted back to the sidewalk before him, taking a special interest in his way-too-shiny black shoes. The sudden, unusual interruption of his daily walk to the local dining restaurant had shaken him, causing him to lose his confident, assured stride that he usually held, with his head up as though the world was on it's knees before him.
The woman had not missed his glance, however, and proceeded to furrow her brows and glare indignantly at the back of his retreating head. With hands planted on her hips, she released another aggravated snarl and proceeded to walk to her car, a red Geo Metro parked just in front of the building she'd exited perhaps a minute ago. Another snarl as she struggled with the keys, attempting to first use her ignition key to unlock the driver's door, and failing a second time with her bank-lock-box key, which was significantly smaller than the actual key she'd been meaning to use. Once in the driver's seat, she slammed her door shut, started the car, and blared the radio, which, coincidentally or not, started screaming out with Chester's shouts of I'm about to break! She smiled smugly at the stereo a moment, though she'd not been aware that Linkin Park's 'One Step Closer' had been released to radio stations.
The car screeched out of it's resting spot, thankfully while no other drivers were attempting to cross her path.
Djeena Motheran pounded her hands on the steering wheel, throwing her head back to slam with a rather painful-sounding thud against the driver's seat headrest. As the edited version of Papa Roach's more well-known song began to thump against her speakers, she released a pent-up breath.
How could he do this? How did he sleep at night?
She snarled again, though by now she was well aware it would have little effect on her current predicament. Perry White had just succeeded in not only ruining her career, but quite possibly, her life.
No. That wasn't correct. She breathed again, taking in relaxation as she turned the radio down with a quick, still-agitated twist of the wrist.
Her life wasn't over. In fact, her career hadn't actually taken that bad of a shot either. But she was pissed. Luckily, she had the maturity of the ages to prevent her from leaping on his throat and making him quite literally eat the words he'd spoken to create such a dent in her otherwise rather pleasurable day. Even Before, her parents had always told her she was quite mature for a girl of her age. She'd always prided herself in being able to take any obstacle thrown in her way and twist it very carefully into naught but a…Step up, one might call it. Or at least obliterating it completely. One of the two. Sometimes, both.
The news she'd just received, however, had been a rather sharp blow to her pride and her maturity.
As she'd strode into the Daily Planet building for the usual submitting of her work, she'd been told by the front desk secretary, a woman who smiled far too much, Djeena had long ago decided, that Perry White, the Editor-in-Chief, wanted to see her. She'd shrugged, returned an equally faked grin masking disgust for the woman, and headed in the direction of his office. As she'd entered, she'd nodded a "hello 'n goodbye" to her coworker's photographer, Justin Olsen, as he strode quickly out of Mr. White's office.
Most people 'strode quickly' out of Mr. White's office. In fact, many came running out, full-speed-ahead, as though afraid that a bomb might explode in their wake.
Strangely enough, Perry, or 'Chief', as Djeena usually, casually, called him, didn't effect her, their newest investigative reporter, in the same way. She took his common explosions in stride, usually just blinking calmly while he raged on about one thing or another that one of his team had done not according to his plans. Now, Chief wasn't to be misunderstood. He had a heart of gold at times, but while within the now-cursed walls of the Daily Planet HQ, his one and only passion was getting the major stories on the front page before the Inquisitor, their tabloid of a competitor, could even type them up. And when his reporters and photographers didn't move quickly enough, he became a time-bomb. Today, however, all were lucky. He wasn't going to explode. Not anytime soon, at least.
He'd glanced up from some paperwork, standing behind his desk as he usually did, his somber expression brightening in a way that almost unnerved the newly-hired reporter. She heard the door shut behind her, and, gripping her camera strap in a way that almost made her appear not-quite-so-reassured, she smiled at her boss.
"Well, Chief, what's up? Darlene said you wanted to see me?" Her voice was honey-sweet, soaked with curiosity and just the right amount of unease. After all, her last story and the still-image photos to accompany it had been submitted on time for tomorrow's edition. As had all prior. There was little she could be at risk for discipline for.
"Come in, come in, Djeena," he said, almost too enthusiastically, though she'd already entered. He did that often, granting permission for things as though he were the puppet master of all he looked at. And really, within these walls, he was. For the most part. "I've got news for you. You've been chosen for an extended assignment. Now, don't get too excited, but it was a bit hard to tag."
Djeena's left brow rose inquisitively, but she quickly remembered herself and rose the other, before he could notice her rather strange expression. Or at least, before it lasted long enough for him to take notice. She appeared relatively surprised. Pleasantly, even. Extended assignments usually meant relocation to some thick-brimmed area, as well as a temporary pay raise and a definite opportunity for a good scoop or two.
"Whatcha got for me, Sir?" She managed to keep her excitement contained.
"We've been hearing a lot of talk lately, mostly hear-say, but enough to warrant an investigation. There's been weird things going on, Djee, weird things. Stuff I'm sure you'd have no problem getting to the bottom of, given the right time and your uncanny ability to weasel the truth out of your poor victims." He cast her a knowing glance and grinned.
Djeena couldn't resist a wide smile in return. Yes, she had acquired a bit of a reputation within DPHQ, even in her short nine-month employment there. Thrice now, she'd gone to interview suspects of serious, notable crimes, and gotten a confession out of their tightly-closed mouths. No one knew quite how she did it, she never went too deep into detail. She explained this off as being vague enough to allow the Planet to publish a second or third edition with the same story, but newly revealed details. Chief looked at it as hooking the readers, and loved it.
"What sort of weird things?" she questioned, now releasing her camera strap, feeling certain she could let go of any possibility that she was in trouble for some thing or another.
"Here's where it gets interesting. People making things explode just by looking at them. We got just a bit of a tale about some ice kid. Could freeze a person to the point of shattering on impact. And then…There was a swarm of bees attacking a couple kids from the local school…That has been confirmed. I want you to go in and take a look-see around, see what you can't find. Think you can handle it?"
Djeena had to resist the urge to snicker. Instead, her smile almost disappeared and she nodded seriously. "Where'm I goin'?" She asked cheerfully.
Chief glanced out his office window toward the south, then turned back to her. "Smallville," he replied importantly.
And all hell almost broke loose. She had, though, managed to storm out of the office, snarling at any unlucky co-worker who happened to make eye contact, and out the building before releasing the anger in that crowd-stopping scream of rage.
TBC…