Welcome to Metropolis, Miss Frost
Roleplaying Log: Welcome to Metropolis, Miss Frost
IC Details

To publicly celebrate the finalization of the acquisition of Takahashi Enterprises by Frost International and toast the new beginning with the local community, Frost International hosts a meteor-watching party at the recently re-signed Takahashi Tower in Metropolis.

It was sure to be one of the best parties of the season because it was hosted by Frost International, naturally - the best name in

And then the meteors had something to say. Fortunately, Metropolis has its own team of defenders.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: September 27, 2019
IC Location: Frost Tower, Metropolis
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 28 Sep 2019 15:16
Rating & Warnings: PG (Language)
Scene Soundtrack: [* ]
NPC & GM Credits: GM: Emma Frost
Associated Plots

It's hard to guess at first glance, perhaps, how long it took for Frost International to convert the rooftop crowning the tower once belonging to Takahashi Enterprises into the glamorous venue that it is now.

This part of the roof has been cordoned off by means of a large, curved wall of black steel that now serves as the backdrop for a riser with a microphone and PA system, and thousands of glittering fairy lights. Tables are scattered with black linen and lotus pod centerpieces that take on an otherworldly appearance with just a little dramatic lighting. Two full bars flank the space, which also includes a wood dance floor imported for the evening and set atop the stamped concrete.

Vista views of the Metropolis skyline are interspersed with huge television displays that are broadcasting a live feed of the meteor shower from a local planetarium's telescope with The Planets by Gustav Holst playing in the background.

Presently a streak of gold burns across the sky, still alight with the last of the sunset, every ten or fifteen minutes.

Oh, yeah, and you'd best bet that the first floor, and every elevator bank until the roof, is positively teeming with security.

New York habits die hard.

"Oh, Katie, isn't it just wonderful?"

There are certain things in life, Catherine Hamilton-Kane has insisted, that one simply cannot miss. Their child's first step (she wouldn't know, but she's heard); their wedding day (how terribly inappropriate to miss out on one's wedding day, not to mention inefficient!); your high school reunion, providing you have kept a slim enough figure and provided your important, high-ranking military husband can attend. And, of course, those great celestial events that come once in a lifetime:

A Hellfire Club party.

In a newly converted grounds in Metropolis!

Oh, and she has also heard something about meteor showers, but that's neither here nor there.

All this to say, Catherine Hamilton-Kane, heiress to the Hamilton Family Arms empire, is of course in attendance today, dressed in her very finest of black silk gowns and cream brown mink stoles; after all, it gets a bit chilly in Metropolis at night, and why not show off when it's exactly the time to?

"I mean, the architecture of Metropolis is a bit garish for my tastes, and the weather is just a bit off here, and there's hardly any familiar faces, and the security was far too brusque for my liking, and I can't imagine Metropolis catering can hold a candle to the Gotham chapter's efforts, and Holst is a bit too on the nose for my liking — but have you ever seen anything more marvelous in your life?"

Catherine, it should be noted, is not presently looking at the burning streaks of comets painting the skyline; this stands in stark contrast to her companion —


— Katherine Rebecca Kane, dressed in her finest three-piece tux with the most classy of rainbow-streaked bowties, who was dragged into this has generously volunteered to keep her currently-frowning step mother company.

"Oh, Katie," laments Catherine, frown deepening. "I really don't think that's the kind of statement you should be making! What happened to that dress I gave you?"

Kate's brows furrow.


Somewhere in the deepest corner of the secret, walled off area of Katherine Rebecca Kane's apartment, a very nice, high collar dress of violet tulle languishes in a tightly crumpled wad.


"It just wasn't a good fit," Kate mentions off-handedly, before pulling one hand free from her pants pocket to cast off a desperate bid for freedom wave.

"Sorry, Catherine. I think I see an old associate of mine. Give me a sec, okay?"

Whereupon Kate will thusly and swiftly abscond past the throngs,

to the drink table. Leaving poor Catherine to herself. It's okay.

Feel more badly for anyone she might run into.

Karen Starr is, as far as anyone in the general vicinity can prove, a Metropolis native. In addition to this, she is a woman whose business acumen and technical capability is so immense that she constructed a massively profitable software company and tech firm from the ground up in both record time and seemingly from both nothing and nowhere. She should be, in theory, at home at an event like this- like some sort of new wave executive rubbing elbows.

So why is she such an absolute fish out of water?!

She was early enough to be socially awkward. Whereas the others present were going to dress to impress, to show off what they'd been given- or paid for, or both- Karen arrived in this… Salmon pink pantsuit. It has these pinstripes, this time. They break up the horrid fishy color of this… Hate crime. The fashion police have been called, of course- they were notified as soon as she stepped out of the limousine she'd rented to go to an event in /her own city/- but they seem to be taking their sweet time.

Of course, normally, Karen could be removed from a party of this Fanciness Echelon for showing up looking like the world's least appealing sashimi. However, depressingly, Karen has clearly spent much on this… Thing. The threads are perfect- as if aligned on a molecular scale to be so symmetrical that the human eye cannot physically notice an imperfection in its stitching.

Somewhere, probably in France, an eclectic tailor sobs quietly into a broken mirror.

The… 'Suit' is of such oppressively high quality that upon the pedestal of sheer cost alone, Karen can lean her head back and lose sight of her detractors through the bridge of her nose. Worse still is what it clings to- Karen is not an impressive figure in many ways, built up a little too huskily around the midriff to be of the Fashionable Bodytype, and clearly the suit has Last Year's Shoulder Padding. As well, despite being impressive in height, who shows up to an affair like this wearing formal /flats,/ like a /peasant./

For the moment, the close proximity of the roof forcing all present to press themselves together in various not-uncomfortable Social Throngs like hungry pirahna is working in Karen's favor. As it stands, avoiding her would mean fighting through the crowd, for the moment, which means that she can just -subject- people to her company at -will.-

That laugh, of course, echoes over the party every so often, even including, once or twice, this unappealing snort. Whatever joke she keeps telling- and it is almost certainly the -same- joke, just repeated- she sure thinks it's a RIOT.


The invitation came with a letter.

The letter informs Karolina Dean that the monies left to her by her late parents came with a catch: along with the funds, she was left a position on their nonprofit organization, the Dean Foundation's board. Since Karolina's about as familiar with running a charity as she is with Skrull-Khund politics (which is to say: she saw a video/holo, once) this had been treated as a formality… but with an event full of potential donors fast approaching; and the Foundation in the midst of a years-long downturn in the wake of its founders' untimely ends and the dark rumours surrounding them, the rest of the board decided to reach out to its newest, youngest member in the hopes of putting a fresh face on the organization.

"Gooooodduh," lowly leaks from her lips after the third read-through. She rubs her forehead with her free hand while lowering the letter and letting it dangle beside her. "Thanks again, Mom and Dad…"


"… just, like, been HONEST with me," Karolina groans to the woman kneading shampoo through her hair on the Foundation's dime, "even a LITTLE. About SOMETHING, ANYthing, but no! It's…"


"… like, what about my life, guys? What about what I wanna— like, it'd be ONE thing if they were little lies, like, 'oh, your grandmother dated a president once but we didn't want to tell you until you were older,' right?"

Karolina's nail artist bobs her head along, just as she has been throughout the blonde's venting. "Sure, yeah," she offers, "Nobody's ever REALLY mad when they find out about Santa—"

"But 'we decided you should marry THIS person because we— we made a deal with their FAMILY'…? 'Come and…'"


"'… just smile and be pretty and play pretend for the cameras, like everything's nice, and perfect, and wonderful, just like we made you do your whole life because we were too, just, too scared of giving you a chance to really know us, because you might, I dunno, reject us, maybe??'"

In her (Foundation-sponsored) white gown with bare shoulders and a halter neck, Karolina takes several deep breaths before downing a tequila shot. The breathing, the shooting, and the twisting away in a desperate effort to hide her immediate realization that the shooting was a bad idea give the guy across the bar top from her plenty of time to rub his brow and remember what the tips are like for a gig like this.

"oh my god," a wide-eyed Karolina mumbles, bracing on the bar as she turns back towards the bartender.

"Oh my— uggggggh, okay… okaaaay…" She briskly drums a few beats against the bar, then lifts her head with a beaming smile. "Okay! Let's do this! Let's…"


"… . ."


"… okay!" the now-rosy cheeked blonde declares. She briskly plays with the sparkling, platinum clutch at her side for a second, then shoves some bills into the bartender's hand. There's a bare glow bleeding from her cheeks, the odd streak of colour rippling through the blonde curls pinned atop her head; since they're in Metropolis, though, she doesn't think twice about either before wheeling from the bar—

— towards the drink table—

— to snatch a glass of champagne.

You're supposed to have a walking drink at these things, after all, right? Right.

Kate gets both a second look and a, "Nice suit," that is - while barely above an exasperated mumble - genuine, before Karolina gets back to champagne-hunting. The bright smile she left the bar with is gone; of all the events her parents/her parents' charity could've shoved her into, the one where marveling at the wonders of space is the main attraction is not the best pick for her.

Truly, it is a night for the stars.

Ms. Kory Anders, who has attended a number of these Hellfire Club functions in her capacity as one of said fashion industry elite (… and once in cat-themed lingerie), makes an appearance once again. This time, she is wearing a gown of almost liquid-y smooth cascading black fabric, that is (in accordance with her prior appearances) halter-tied and backless with a deeply plunging cowl neck in the front. So if we're talking about the fashion police, she's at her own risk, albeit not for style points, but rather for landing >just barely< on the better side of indecent. Then again, isn't that how these lovely Hellfire people roll? She's never one to miss a trend. As an added touch, the midnight black of the gown is peppered with little jewels, each providing a little pinprick sparkle of light, like tiny stars. She /may/ have gotten a little inspiration from a good friend for this one!

With her own statement made, she strides into the gathering in her usual long-legged fashion. She doesn't have as many people to greet, even if she may be recognized by some of the press, and so makes a more immediate B-line for familiar people in the crowd. One of those happens to be Karolina, who she waves toward as she first turns to walk that way, although on her way toward the other woman, she spots the statement that is Karen (or her suit). And pauses, as if struck motionless but it's power! Or just to say hi.

"Oh, Miss Starr! Hello again. We met at that Gotham photo exhibit, erm, with the… unfortunate occurrences?" Zombie assassins and whatnot. Ahem. "But this is looking to be a wonderful evening. Isn't it all beautiful?" she suggests, gesturing up. Of course, stargazing takes on a different meaning, generally, when some of those stars register more in your mind as (just for instance) 'neighboring system full of shitty lizard aliens' or 'location of aforementioned Skrull/Khund conflict' than 'heavenly celestial object.' So maybe little of that awe really applies for either of them. Fortunately, almost none of that applies to meteors! No one lives on your average meteorite, or if they do, it's a pretty temporary state of affairs.

Fashionably late is a concept reserved for individuals that are below the status of someone as intellectually superior as Lex Luthor. This could be the reason that he has chosen to arrive at the exact moment that he did. Whether it is before or after those people that have chosen to be fashionably late is beside the point. All that truly matters is that he is here and that means this affair has officially grown to a level that might even be able to melt a little bit of the Frost that's all over this soiree.

Hope and Mercy are also in attendance. They are rocking some custom dresses of Amazonian descent. Although, there has been a very modern and very Lex tweak to them. Both of these powerful women emote nothing but a strong sense of 'don't even think about it' from their scattered locations that allow them both to keep a close eye on their employer: Lex Luthor.

Handshaking abounds as Lex Luthor makes his way through the crowd. He's not headed into any one direction for any reason other than to just make the usual networking rounds. He's here for who knows what reason or maybe there's just too many reasons to name. Whatever the case may be, Lex Luthor certainly looks to be enjoying himself immensely and his philanthropic smile is on full tilt to make sure everyone feels the love.

Lex Luthor Loves. There's a new product line in there somewhere…

You know what the best part of this party is? Getting to walk in like it's your damned birthday.

And, since Emma Frost neglected to throw for herself a party this year, this will have to suffice as the next best thing.

When the woman walks into the gathering, it's in a cocktail sheath dress of white satin that boasts a crystal-crusted banded collar and an elegant ruffle that drapes over the left side of her body and effectively bisects her silhouette. Her golden blonde hair has been pulled back away from her face by some device or another, but left to cascade down her back in thick curls. Her platform stiletto shoes are tall and send her height upwards of six feet, the dangerously high and pointy heels crusted in glitter to give it a diamond effect. And diamonds dangle from her ears in an elegant waterfall to dance against the curve of her jaw.

That is to say that, even in the dim light of an evening rooftop party, she sparkles. A lot.

And she plucked up wine before she even hit the party, because she can and it's a damnably good night.

She lurks near one of the monitors, her smile downright wicked behind her glass as she keeps an eye on the empty riser. She does, of course, glance occasionally about the growing crowd, but it's a momentarily lesser concern.

While this fete is supposed to be one of the many duties that Akari Takahashi has to fulfil, she's been doing her duties in being… as scarce as possible? Not really. Truth be told, she's been putting the final touches on the speech that she's supposed to be giving at some point this evening. The glitz and glam is not exactly her entire cup of tea, but it's necessary. The appearance. The speech. All of it is necessary. What isn't necessary? The presence of a pair of guests that accompanied her - one Dr. Chase Stevens and a rather large dog. At least, that's what she's going to tell anyone who asks. Even if he looks like wolf.

Attired in a sleek black evening gown with matching gloves and clutch, Akari Takahashi is determined to appear the collected and put together VP that she happens to be. Even if she's conscientious about the when and where's of that platform. That she's not approaching until the lull in the party deems it time.

Kate Kane's beeline for the drink table is a casual but quick one, the kind of crisp forward march you might expect from a former soldier-turned-layabout trying to escape (step-)family. Soon, the pale Kane heiress is lost in the crowds, off for a fond chat with her dear old associate who is certainly not alcohol.

She pauses, briefly, at the sharp cut of a laugh. One bright red eye lifts in a scrutinizing arch, darkly-rimmed green eyes rolling in the direction of what is probably the most salmon-flavored 80s throwback she's seen in recent memories.

And Kate Kane knows a thing or two about 80s throwbacks.

Dark red lips purse. Her head cants at an angle like a cat trying to parse something. And then —

"Strong look," Kate offers, a flash of a friendly smile making a poor substitute for a lifted glass. A fact that she sets about fixing right —

— now.

She doesn't really look at what she's grabbing; she just picks up the first available champagne-iest thing she can see from her peripheries, and then drains the whole thing in one smooth, unflinching motion, all the while staring up at the night sky. A sigh slips past her lips. And despite herself, Kate allows herself a small, fond smile as she watches a streak of gold smear across the glittering cosmos.

"Yeah," she muses, mostly to herself, "that is pretty wonderful."

And then enter Karolina. She hears the little compliment; blinking, she glances the young blonde's way; towards the pink flush of her cheeks, the faint sign of a glow at her skin, streaking through her hair —

"If the shoe fits," is her humble rejoinder as she turns. It'd seem like she's planning to just leave it there and get back to her drinking; a few seconds pass leaving Karolina to her devices…

… before a cool glass of water slides her way.

"That first. Trust me," Kate says, with all the wisdom of a sage guru. "It's okay; I'll tell everyone you took the hits without even flinching."

Kate Kane: if nothing else, she can spot someone who can't hold their liquor from a mile away.

Barbara Gordon is not exactly a fashionista, or much of a high-flyer with the posh crowd, but there's some benefits (or perhaps downsides) of being the new Pepper Potts to Tony Stark — the party invites. The already-tall redhead is just a few inches taller in her simple heels that match neatly with her simple tea-length sheath dress, both in a lovely shade of gold. She smooths the dress after fetching a glass of white wine, and she gravitates slowly toward the crowds she's supposed to be socializing with.

She doesn't intend to make any sort of dramatic entrance, but does almost nearly collide with a well-dressed young man with a tray of wine glasses. "Oof. Oh no, I got — it." That last syllable ends with her catching the tray with the help of the waiter, and it takes all she can muster to not look around as she smiles sheepishly, thanks him, and takes a wine glass. She's going to need a couple more of these.

Sparkles in Karolina's periphery draw her attention towards Kory and keep it held for a beat before she thinks to return the wave briskly.

Somewhere - amidst the melancholy and the frustration - she scrawls a mental note to look into much sparklier options for the next time she gets roped into doing this.

Since Kory's got a salmon-clad titan to mingle with, though, it isn't long before Karolina's back to champagne, and nice suits, and—

"— huh— "

Her eyes dip towards the water, briefly asquint.

"— oh— oh, yeah— "

The water sloshes around as she sweeps it towards her mouth and tosses it back. It, at least, doesn't lead to grimacing.

"Thanks," Karolina exhales. She starts to hand the water glass back to Kate before remembering that she's at a party for millionaires and not hanging out with her friends under a tar pit.

"That's super nice of you," she adds with a rueful little smile, setting the glass back on the table, "and as you can clearly see, I do this kind of thing, just, all the time, so everyone'll buy it."

A beat passes.

The smile doesn't budge, but she does admit, "I don't do this, ever, and I kind of hate it so far?" in a lower voice before glancing away and taking a big swig from her flute.

It is all too easy to engage Karen Starr. Not only does the crowd practically -part- around Kory on her path to the person she met at the gallery, but in fact the crowd will close behind the alien woman as she closes in on her puce-colored quarry. Karen had been """""Entertaining""""" someone near the bar itself, so this all ends up bringing many of them close together… Perhaps to the chagrin of several present, because Karen is there.

Kory's comment makes Karen look to the stars for a moment. For her, it is rather different even than it is for Kory- aliens being different and alien to one another in an amusing if not ironic fashion. For Karen, there are considerations: That should be the direction of where this Universe's Krypton should have been. In another star system, she wonders idly if that Skrull/Khund conflict from back home has resolved yet, or if it's even happening. There is an altered context, as well. As, perhaps more than anyone else at this party, the woman formerly known as Kara Zor-L can metaphorically reach out and touch them. Frankly, many of the systems relevant to her memory and thoughts are only so far away that someone -might- notice that she's left the party before she returns.

“Oh, the -stars-," she comments, after a moment, snickering to herself at her joke as if she'd been staring at the bronze alien the entire time, "I have to admit you had me for a second there. Yeah, they're just -nifty-, I think. I've got Starrware on full solar already, too. Not only are we off the grid, but our solar sensors are so sensitive that the overnight computations can be run on the glitter of the night sky. Isn't that impressive?" Is it impressive? A boast? Theoretically implausible with all technology known to exist on Earth?

Karen then seems to get distracted. Kate Kane, of course, is hard not to notice, but of course, Karen can't handle it in stride, nor can she be -cool- about it. Instead, she makes her way over to Kate, the few steps that it is, very shortly after the woman's comment on her outfit- or, what Karen seems to -believe- was a comment on her outfit.

"Yeah, this one's my -favorite-. We've been testing a new way of fabrication using nanotechnology. Basically, we programmed these -tiny- robots and taught them to -sew-, and then we managed to make what amounts to a -molecular- dye in my -favorite- color. I just -had- to get a custom suit made, I couldn't -resist.-"

The way she explains nanotechnology is very… Condescending, of course. As if there is a single human being in the civilized world that hasn't at least -familiarized- themselves with the concept of nanotechnology.

As the sky finishes its darkening, the meteors passing overhead - unseen by the naked eye due to the big city glow that surrounds the party - pick up in pace, streaking across the screens every few minutes.

Sometimes a couple manage to careen into view at the same time.

When Akari makes her entrance, the esteemed daughter of the fallen Takahashi empire, Emma looks to the glittering bracelet watch on her wrist. Why, yes, right on time.

That will do.

She purrs quietly but contentedly herself and then makes her way in the direction of that pillar of Metropolis society, Lex Luthor. She casts a small flick of her gaze in the direction of his own import of security as she sways in his direction, but she never slows down. "Why, Mister Luthor," she says, her voice pleased as punch. "What a pleasure to see that you made it. I was hoping that you would." Her thoughts already reach out, stretch towards his surface thoughts and make themselves comfortable sorting through them. Because, of course, they do. Her manicured hand also stretches out, although it is far more demure by comparison. The smile on her crimson lips is a shrewd one. "Thank you for coming."

Kory's head tilts just slightly, and her blank expression and wide, large-eyed stare seems to suggest that she has no idea what else Karen could possibly mean! "Yes, of course, the stars. What did you think-" Here the woman turns to look around, still confused, but it is evidently not something worthy of extended concern. The slight shift in topic toward solar power does seem to strike her as interesting. "Is this place using your technology? But that is wonderful, regardless. It is an admirable and necessary goal to move toward such technologies. I hope your innovations catch on quickly!" Of course, Starfire is one of the few (OK, there's an awful lot of them HERE) people to whom this little technological impossibility sounds perfectly normal and plausible. Who can keep track of the exact tech level of the primitive rock you're in exile on, jeez.

And while her attention turns toward Kate, since they're still talking clothes, Kory can't help but be curious. And with a display of lack of concern for personal space, she's soon gently poking at Karen's shoulder, to rub her fingertip across the material. "How fascinating! I am sure many designers would be interested in this. You are making so many wonderful things."

As everyone else is claiming drinks, the tall golden-skinned woman soon claims a similarly golden fizzly beverage of her own, before again turning her eyes up toward the display and watching with interest as a particularly dense pattern of streaks passes. Of course, she'd get a better view in space, or even on the feed from her ship, but… details! And speaking (again) of drinks, there's a little fuss as some get knocked into and she turns toward one of the other (it's a gathering!) redheads. "Barbara! Over here!"

Spotted. Or at least, one of the aides which has been assisting the young Takahashi in setting in does the honors in directing her towards the platform.

…And making sure that she has one glass of champagne in hand. That simply cannot be forgotten!

Approaching the platform, the sheer length of her dress means that one hand is utilized in ensuring that there are no missteps. Like tripping. Without error, Akari's steps are confident approaching the microphone. Once in hand though, she scans the audience with the beginnings of a smile. A small one, but it is one to be seen quite clearly. She's been in the states awhile but not -that- long to lose some drilled in behaviors.

And with that, she begins with a voice that doesn't carry much hints of an accent. Instead, like her demeanor, the words spoken are quite confident and relaxed. "Colleagues and Distinguished guests, my name is Akari Takahashi, Vice President of Research and Development. Thank you for attending this evening's event and it is a pleasure to welcome you to our new location in Metropolis which will be home to many numerous innovations in the future. We would also like to thank the Metropolis Planetarium for supplying the spatial feed that you are seeing in real time overhead. For now, in the present, we hope that you enjoy yourselves this evening and look up to the skies."

Redheads! Barbara hears her name, and she turns her head just as she's taking a drink from the wine glass. Her eyes brighten at the sight of Kory, and she waves with a little dance of fingers before she cuts across the crowd toward them. That is when she spots Kate, and Karen alike.

"Hi," she says a bit breathlessly as she closes the gap. "I'm glad to see you guys… I was worried I was going to need to call Pepper for socializing advice…"

She looks around uneasily. "This is worse than going to a GCPD event… at least there I'm just treated like everyone's kid sister."

Empty glass hits the table with a little clink. Her sage advice delivered, Kate's green eyes drift Emma-wards. She hasn't seen the Hellfire elite since they were introduced — just before she went missing. Bright red brows furrow faintly inward in a knot of thought.

A knot that unravels as Karen pursues that strand of commentary with a very — politely reductive rundown on the concept of nanomachines. Vivid green eyes flutter in a blink as the Kane heiress listens; to her credit, seasoned social vet as she is, she takes it all in much better stride than Karen and with a most impeccable poker face, wide stare and parted lips looking for all the world like she's listening to brand new information. Brows lift.

"Wow, tiny robots. So just how tiny are they?" she wonders, playing her part of clueless bystander well. "As small as my pinky finger? I've got a pretty tiny pinky finger, you know." And here, she wiggles it, demonstrably, looking for all the world to be utterly guileless in all this — but maybe the small, lopsided smile she adopts a precious handful of seconds later might help clue Karen in to the fact that the redhead is teasing. Maybe just a little.

"Maybe I could borrow them from you. I could always use a bit more nano-salmon in my life."

With that, her attention turns towards Kory; her hand tilts in a simple wave, coupled with a glib, "We meet again, huh? You're looking a little less catty than I remember," before her attention drifts towards Barbara.

"Good to see you, Barbara." She flashes the fellow Gothamite a charming kind of grin, before pushing off her leaning spot near the table and making her way over to the younger redhead. One grave, pale hand clasps on her shoulder as Kate leans.

"Be wary in these uncharted waters, brave traveler," she whispers, direly. "Here be WASPs."

There. There is her sage advice.

It's an easy enough thing to miss. On screen now, there are easily three or four fiery threads hurling across the velvet black of space. With all of the partying going on, it is very easy to miss when two of those threads cross paths with each other and two paths become half a dozen.

That is certainly the case for Emma who pauses her conversation with the illustrious Lex Luthor in order to turn her attention towards the stage with a wolfish smile. Because there she is, Akari Takahashi, in all of her glory and the polar opposite of Emma Frost in nearly every visual aspect that can be conceived. For all intents and purposes, she is the reigning queen and Akari her captive of war. The pleasure that courses through the white-wrapped CEO's veins at the thought distracts her away from her light espionage, sparing Luthor from a deeper intrusion.

Instead, she sets her glass down just long enough to golf clap politely. Certainly, Takahashi could have perhaps offered a little more theatricality and showmanship to the things she said, but it, too, will suffice for the evening. Emma attempts to make eye contact across the distance and raise her glass, and may or may not use her abilities to oh-so-helpfully draw the new vice president's attention in her direction so she can see the salute for a job well done.

Karolina takes the sudden explainer in stride, since,

A.) it's not really for her, as much as it's for the pale, redheaded sage, and

B.) when she wasn't trying to get to know her fiance, or running for her life from her fiance's civilization, or trying to hitchhike across the trackless void to get back home, Karolina saw nanotech-enabled products now and again because Space enjoys a +2 technology bonus relative to Earth.

It also helps that she's got a mostly full flute in hand. By the time the explanation's done, Karolina's ready to grab another glass. She starts to raise it to her lips—

Karen gets a thoughtful, sidelong look.

"What are you gonna do with them," she quietly wonders, "when they're, like. Done?"

Once that's out, she - finally, really - glances up to watch a few stars fall. She doesn't join in the clapping; after a soft, sharp breath through her nostrils, she's too busy working on draining her second flute.

Before Akari descends the stairs leading from the platform, she doesn't miss the raised glass from Emma and the implied meaning. Inclining her head, the gesture itself is subtle enough in its delivery before replacing the microphone and descending down the stairs where a familiar gray wolf-like dog is waiting patiently. Settled on his hindlegs, he doesn't move from the woman's side once she descends the final step as an unspoken chaperone of sorts while mingling with the various people of note.

Karen had not expected to be -touched-. It is easy to pass off the way her suit fits as padding in the shoulders, when she just tells people that and they don't -poke- anything. Kori gets a not necessarily -important- surprise when she prods at Karen's shoulder and finds not that it is a well-cut foam insert to make them look bigger than they ought to be, but something underneath that damn near feels like- even for the casual strength of the Tamaranean- well-cut /marble./ That is the kind of resilient flesh one shouldn't find on a regular person, but at the end of the day… It's probably a curiosity. Or body armor. This is Metropolis after all.

Over her shoulder, Karen speaks to Kory, in between- admittedly, something she regrets, but appearances are appearances- casually treating Kate Kane like she's some sort of proto-human who, as some might say, 'doesn't know what computers is.' She does this with a bright smile, and all the friendliness in the universe, for someone who is -clearly- the most obnoxious human being on the face of the planet. Something akin to if Fran Dresher had been placed in a blender with Steve Jobs, and now you had to consume the result. "Oh I'm sure they're going to catch on it's just that they're a little -pricey- even though they save people -all- of the money of their power bill, I mean, who wouldn't, but-" There's a pause, and she turns back to Kate, who had just said something -hilarious.-

Karen breaks out into this shrill, aching, ghastly cackle at Kate's comments. Kate had been joking- the sarcasm was there, the parts of the joke had been present, but it wasn't the kind of comedy meant to be uproarious. And, yet, there it was, apparently killing Karen. There's even a -snort- in there, somewhere. It passes pretty quickly, but it's audible, and isn't it just the most -adorably- horrible worst thing for a human being to do?

Karen had to depart from Kate after that with a quiet, "You're hilarious! The size of your pinky, and you want to -borrow- a multi-billion dollar array of molecular sewing machines! What a riot!" then, there's Karolina. Karen straightens up after a moment, still giggling, wiping away a -tear- in fact, in a performance that only Barbara at this point could probably appreciate.

"We observe some pretty strict nanotech laws, they delete themselves after they're finished with their assigned task, like cells. Can't have any goo running around. Literally." She smiles, then, preening quietly…

And -that- is when she catches eye of the displays. Instantly her mood shifts. It's not imperceptible, but, you'd have to be -watching-. It passes after another moment, as Karen offers a loud "Barbara Gordon!" Seemingly noticing this particular redhead for the first time this evening, strolling over to wrap her in this BIG. HUG. That was very clearly uninvited, but they've met -thrice- now, and if that isn't an occasion, Karen doesn't know what is. All the same, Karen speaks- it's tough to hear, if not impossible, over the din of the soiree… Unless your ear is directly next to Karen's face.

"Need a distraction. I have to go fast."

"I do hope so," Kory says of the solar tech, though clearly, she takes a little more away from the poke-poke than the conversation, tilting her head again in her usual curious tick. Oh well! It's a small mystery, and one she's distracted from as Kate greets her. Less catty? Well, that won't do!

So, naturally, Kory turns offers Kate a verrrry friendly, even flirty purred response: "Meow."

You… kinda had to be there. Where 'there' was a previously-mentioned and decidedly more Playboy mansion-esque prior Hellfire function.

She continues a little more normally, "They did not require anyone to dress up for this event, but were still kind enough to provide an invitation. It is a shame. Perhaps I could have worn stars?" Well, her flowing/plunging dress is -covered- in stars, already. So presumably, she means she could have come wearing -just- the stars. "But I do not think this is that sort of event!" What, don't dignified scientists and astronomers like debauched revels?

And somewhat like Kate, she seems keen on providing Barbara a bit of backup as well. The woman looks as though she requires it! But… "Wasps?!" A concerned look follows. Yes, clearly she's on guard for the stinging asshole insect variety, as opposed to the Mayflower set.

She is spared from such horrors by a beeping from her sparkly purse. Probably her phone or something. "Excuse me a moment." Taking just a slight step away, she takes the device out, although with at least a mild effort to keep the screen from being too obvious to anyone in the vicinity. She looks at it a moment, and then up toward the display on the ceiling.

Which leads to a somewhat similar turn back to Barbara, perhaps a few moments after Karen has ALSO headed that way (since she has to check a doohickey rather than just use those fancy telescope eyes!): "Barbara… I think there may be a problem. I have to go…" A glance at Karen. "Also."

The heavy sound of Kate tossing back that drink catches her attention, and she smiles ruefully at the older redhead; for her part, she just takes a tiny sip of her wine instead even while her eyes drift up to Starfire. Her brows arch meaningfully over her keen blue eyes, and then she offers the other redhead a warm smile.

Now there's Kate, and a shoulder-clasp that draws her gaze away from Kory. She blinks at the murmur, and her brows arch briefly, then she gets it, and then slowly starts to nod. "Could be worse. There could be clowns." And she takes a swallow from her glass — a bigger swallow this time — while giving Kate a look. Batwoman missed the fun of Clown Burlesque night.

Now she catches sight of the first of the falling stars. That half-distraction turns into full-distraction before first Karen and then Starfire's words snap her attention to them. She glances between both women, and then she huffs out a quick, thoughtful breath.

After a brief moment of silence, Babs goes for the worst possible choice before her — she trips the poor waiter with a casual tip of her heel, and he is forced to stumble right into Karen with a full tray of wine glasses. There, Karen. Now you have an excuse to disappear… covered in wine.

"No, I mean— like, done like 'finished', like, 'ready for production'," Karolina stammers, shaking her head quickly.

Squinting curiously, because Karen actually does look like she belongs here, and she seems to be running tipsy too.

"There's a lot of cool things they could do, I bet, if you teamed up with the right people. Maybe even something,"

Running tipsy and running (or, okay, strolling) away to keep mingling.

"in the… non— profit— … hhg."

The person she knows, the person who briefly aided her, and the person who's consumed with hugging and giggling all gather around the GCPD princess. Karolina takes a couple steps towards them…

… but the curls, the dress, and the gently radiant manicure weren't freebies, were they?

Luckily(?), a waiter trips before she gets much time to consider moving closer— plenty of reason to veer in a direction that takes her towards potential donors.

"Everything's really nice," she offers the potential donor with the sparkling white dress and predatory gestures, along with a polite smile. "Thanks for the invitation— … well. Thanks for— y'know. Inviting a representative from the Dean Foundation, whose board decided that I was that representative."

With a gradual glance away, she finishes her glass.

"We should, like. Talk, sometime, maybe," she then murmurs, as if reading from cue cards floating just behind Emma, "about strategies, and synergy, and stuff."

'Meow,' purrs Kory, and Kate can't - and doesn't bother to - supress a snort.

"Phew," she exhales, in sheer relief, hand to chest. It's a gesture marred only by her wink. "I was worried for a second there."

She'd have more to say — but her light-hearted tease seems to have struck a particular, guffawing chord with Karen. It hadn't been that kind of joke, of course, but Karen sells it as one like no tomorrow; the level of commitment to it is so overwhelming that Kate, in response, just quirks the right corner of her mouth upward in a look of subtle incredulity. The moment doesn't last long, of course, but Kate, ever-presenting that confident front, goes with the flow so sublimely she might as well be the water in the stream.

"What can I say? I aim to please. Clearly I've succeeded beyond my wildest expectations here," is her sole remark, before her attention turns towards Barbara, and the harrowing situation she now finds herself in. It could be worse. Could be clowns.

She knows the implication well enough; Kate's response is, ultimately, a simple one:

"Don't worry; the night's still young. My suggestion's a stronger drink."

Kory worries about wasps. Kate would love to put her mind at ease. But then — something happens. A blink and you'll miss it moment. Something in the screen — did the comets… split? Green eyes blink, lips pursing in mild thought. And a change seems to take over the party circle. Subtle, easily missed.

Kate watches with a quiet, observant eye, the domino effect that ensues post-Karen Bear Hug. Her gaze flits towards Karolina and Emma, briefly. And with Barbara's very sudden, very subtle, very tragic gaffe —

Down goes the waiter, drinks and all aimed for Karen, and Kate Kane snaps forward with surprising reflexes, to at least catch the waiter before he makes a complete faceplant. Sadly — it does nothing for Karen, or the potential state of the pride and joy of her salmon suit.

"Ouch," she winces, sympathetically. "Better get that fixed, huh?"

Karen will have to have /WORDS/ with Barbara later, in private. The waiter-trip creates logistical issues, none the least of which is the fact that you could whack Karen with the larger portion of most continents and on a good day she'd be primarily unamused. To say that a waiter, built though he may be, would bounce off of her as would- well- a floundering service staffer colliding with a parked truck, is an understatement. This is, of course, one of those things that would break cover, so… Karen has to adapt. She's not good at a prat-fall, and that doesn't create -enough- of a distraction anyways. Instead, there is a sidestep that is a -little- too suspiciously deft, and a -touch- faster than Karen's rather bulky-looking body seems like it ought to. It 'isn't fast enough' to avoid the splash of several glasses of wine.

Feigning an uncaring attitude towards the fallen waiter, as if the poor fellow doesn't have life bad enough, Karen claps her hands to her cheeks and lets out this sudden cry of, "My SUIT!" before, in the manner of the people who typically only appear in high school prom dramas or daytime television shows, charging off towards the stairwell. Very soon, Karen Starr is, simply, gone. The guards in the stairwell will register that she left verifiably around the same time as she was splashed with wine- the story is a little inconsistent, as if she reached the bottom of the stairwell -far- too soon after entering it, but that's an inconsistently that she'll have to accept.

In the meantime, mere moments after Karen Starr disappears, there is this loud -crack- that echoes through the skies of the city- as if something very close by just, well, broke the sound barrier.

With her little vice president sticking to the script, Emma allows her attention to turn back to the party at large. Her pale eyes turn, sharp and piercing, towards Karolina as she bumps into her. They are not kind eyes, and the smile that is held beneath them is not comforting. "Mm, yes," she allows. "Maximize impact. Think outside the box a little and ideate. Have your people call my people."

She might say more, perhaps. Might start to peel back the thoughts of the child who would dare enter her orbit.

Fortunately for Karolina, something is breaking its own already.

The building, for the far more sensitive, might be felt to start rumbling as something far overhead and going very, very, very fast sets itself on a collision course for the earth nearby.

It will be mere minutes before something comes screaming into view, all blazing white and gold heat and deadly promise.

And another something, on a different trajectory.

And five more beyond that, blinding white as they scorch outward in a less hazardous direction—the ocean—for those capable of charting such things.

But surely, none of those present or departing would have such a capability…. right?

Emma's attention leaves Karolina and turns towards the sky with the complete evaporation of her humor a mere moment before the screaming starts.

"Karen! I'm so sorry!" Barbara is babbling after Karen as she departs, only to then look apologetically at the waiter she has managed to run into twice. Luckily, Kate's caught him, and so he's stuck between two redheads and only one of them at least looks shamefaced at her role in the incident.

Babs touches the waiter's shoulder gently as he steps off to get some rags to clean-up the floor. She cuts a glance toward Kate, and then back to the screens just in time for things to start going sideways.

She steps closer to Kate. "What is going on?" The words are gently murmured just before the screaming starts. "Welcome to Metropolis," she sighs out softly.

Kory doesn't need a distraction for a superspeed exit, but she does need to excuse herself, and the whole kerfluffle with Karen helps with that. Even as Kate is dealing with the waiter, she gives the woman an apologetic smile as well. "I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me a moment. But I would love to catch up!" She vaguely waves the thing in her hand, as if explaining the reason, although she keeps the screen covered in an odd grip that is just a little suspicious to a keen eye.

As she walks, shes' already sending a message on the Titans frequency, though even still, she swings by where Karolina is doing business-things. Again, there is some un-invited affection (there's a bit of that going around) as she closes in close enough to the other woman to hold a quiet alien-to-alien conference. "Some of those objects are headed this way. I am going outside."

Kory's forewarning means she's out of the main hall just before stuff becomes obvious to the main crowd and everyone starts panicking and screaming, although she doesn't have the time to fake checking out the main entrance the way Karen does. She just goes for a window. Her admirers will unfortunately miss magical princess-esque dress-to-battlegear transformation sequence in the skies above Metropolis, but soon enough, she's streaking skyward as well, the red mane of her hair lengthening into a fiery tail behind her, like a meteor going -up- from Earth to meet those falling toward it. Obviously, she picks the one aimed at the BUILDING. The ocean has, er, Aquaman!

"There're, like, a few cool projects that Frost International'd be perfect for, I bet," Karolina murmurs in reply.

It helps that she's not so focused on those eyes. It helps a lot, because while it's still, well, a murmur, it's a whole lot steadier than what came before it.

That tone's harder to miss.

"And, you know, doing anything charitable, it's great for headlines, isn't it? Especially, like, right after a ta—"

The building probably shouldn't be shaking, right?

"Ohmygod!!" stretches out behind her like the luminous rainbow her hair melts into when she takes flight.

"THIS ISN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THIS KIND OF METEOR PARTY— I DIDN'T PLAN IT, BUT NOBODY'S METEOR PARTY IS EVER," the blonde panicks as rainbow light blooms from glowing fingers, "SUPPOSED TO BE THIS KIND OF METEOR PARTY!" and begins weaving itself into an irregularly paneled mesh hanging in her general vicinity as soon as she clears the doors.

It's—a bit—messier than Kory's approach. At least the other alien had a chance to confirm the worst before Karolina took off.

"Soon," Kate Kane promises the retreating Kory, a smile tugging at her dark lips.

"If we're all still alive, anyway."

Once the waiter is properly situated, Kate offers him an apologetic smile; she even sets about helping with at least picking up the glasses — until there is a low rumble across the ground beneath her feet. A cracked glass rolls its sticky, spilt path across the disturbed ground until it stops with a tap at the toes of the pale redhead's polished shoe. Her eyes narrow.

Without a word, she comes to a stand; untucking her phone from her interior jacket pocket, she sends off an untraceable message to one Julia Pennyworth, to see if she has any idea just what the hell is happening. It's only then that she looks Barbara's way to share that look, a frown settling securely on her features.

"Trying to figure that out," she remarks to Barbara, "but we should start trying to get things ordered and get these people evacuated. Try to lead these people out before things get even more pear-shaped-" And just like that — the screaming starts.

Kate grimaces. This isn't great. And she is not even remotely equipped for deterring comets.

And so with that in mind, she parts from Barbara with a, "'Just a different flavor of crazy,'" tagline to the other redhead's soft sigh, before making her way towards the imperious blonde that is Emma Frost, sifting her way through the panicking crowds to project above the din of escalating mayhem,


Katherine Rebecca Kane: can still be Kate, even in the middle of a possible extinction event crisis.

"- Wait, did I just see a living rainbow? Wow. Now I know my life is flashing before my eyes."

It's her super power.

The show in the sky becomes something of a lightshow. There are a number of these comets, of course- the cosmic splattering of a celestial waiter colliding with a party guest that now rains down upon the people of Planet Earth. Among the skies, visible, and perhaps even -outpacing- the bronze Titan, is the blonde form of Power Girl. Clad in her white jumpsuit, with no wig to make her hair look like it reaches her derriere, and no salmon suit-insert to make her look overweight. Moving at a multiple of the speed of sound, what had just a moment ago been the bumbling Karen Starr is now the Kryptonian that looks every bit as strong as she ought to be, and then some.

The smaller comets are like fireworks- miniature they may be, they're still dangerous, and moving fast- and, for most others, easy to miss. Power Girl, however, has the ability to see exactly what minerals they're made out of.

As if paying attention to her wasn't hard enough, she accelerates yet -further.- Rather suddenly, the tinier bits of comet become explosive detonations in the sky, hit so hard and so fast that they're rendered little more than fireworks within the sky.

No matter how cool this looks, though, there is one major problem- the half-dozen larger comets will not be so easy, and nor can Power Girl even try that tactic against them: They'll just splinter into shards large enough to -only- kill dozens of people.

Still, the light show does herald her entrance well enough. Such is that Kryptonian air-speed that even after bursting the smaller meteors, Karen arrives alongside Kory as the flame-haired woman makes her way towards the one coming straight for the tower. For the moment, Power Girl doesn't say anything. Instead, she analyzes this particular rock: How dense what it's made of could come in handy.

Kate goes booming toward Emma, and Barbara is on the move just as quickly. She lets the older redhead take point here while she starts gathering up people by gentle nudges — sometimes not-so-gentle — and herds with the skills of someone who has done this far too often.

She glances slightly aside to check for any signs of Karen and Kory doing their thing only to then shuffle the first panicking partygoer out of sight.

Emma, to her credit, does not run. She slowly turns her attention towards the elevator shafts off of the rooftop party, which are packed to the gills. And the stairs, also packed.

She is absolutely not packing in there with everyone else. No way. No how.

It would be very handy right now to have a mutant or two here with the right skill set, but… oh, look. There goes Metropolis, showing that it has a few party tricks all its own. Emma picks up her wine glass—because party fouls are party fouls, after all—and she puts a bracing hand down on the rooftop ledge as the rumbling grows worse. She is concerned, or nursing a headache if the finger at her temple is to be believed, but a sudden, UNRELATED, and perhaps eerie calm and orderliness comes to the crush of humans trying to evacuate the rooftop by way of the staircase, aided in no short order by Barbara Gordon.

Kate calls to her, and her hand subtly drops back to her side… even as she holds her ground. Where, really, can they go with the congested stairwells and elevators? "Bittersweet really isn't my look," she concedes, being mindful of her footing as she steps away from the wall and towards the familiar face - one of the very few in the sea of strangers.

And then one of the meteors begins to be decimated before it can do any real damage to the buildings of Metropolis, showers of hail-stone sized rock pelting streets and buildings and screaming pedestrians below who are running for cover. And another, with Kory's urging, begins to change trajectory and move towards one of the more ambiguously pointed other space boulders in order to make certain that it clears the buildings on the perimeter of the city.

Starfire certainly doesn't have the speed - at least not in the atmosphere - and so she ignores the most distant targets, flying directly for the largest meteorites. That said, she can spare a glance or gesture for nearer fragments, and that's all she really requires: her eyes shine bright neon green, as shortly do visible auras around each hand. From these spring multiple lances of like-hued energy, her trademark starbolts. With laser-like heat and a flood of more esoteric gravitic particles, the beams strike and lance through the numerous smaller pieces she passes en route, sweeping side to side as her arms swing in precise motions and her whole body twirls on its longer axis to bring the eyebeams on another target. If the screens below are still working, it's definitely a show.

But the lights all go dark before she contacts the larger object. Though she lacks the magnificent vision, she is familiar enough with her space objects and that the beams will only shear away acreted material, not the denser metallic cores. And so, yep, it's time to play bumper-cars with space rocks.

"Unf," grunts the Tamaranean as she crashes into the rough (and superheated from passing through the atmosphere) surface, her arms bending to cushion the initial contact, before she directs the full of her power into moving the thing. For once, her flaming hair remains at its full length even while she hangs still - or rather, as she's driven toward the ground by the titanic space boulder.

"X'hal!" the woman screeches as her eyes burn a brighter green, simply in effort, not attack. Yet slowly, slowly, she feels the thing begins to shift, feels how the gravity waves she freely sails amidst ripple and shift with its altered course. She can only hope it's enough.

Some of those meteoric hail-stones explode against a thrumming rainbow rather than a car, a person, or a building. With her arms spread wide, Karolina floats well above Takahashi Tower, just beneath the center of a radiant dome woven from blooming lights.

Sweat's pouring down her face, her breathing's quick and jagged; her eyes, unfocused—glassy.

Each new detonation summons a groan, a twitch, a sharp jerk; her limbs shudder between beats of violence.

Her little slice of stained glass sanctuary holds, for now.

For her part, Power Girl had broken off to the other remaining meteor. Kory was slower than she was—at least in atmosphere—and so the rock that's further away was not within her reach. As such, after a moment to regard the other alien, Power Girl is -booking- it. Building up speed is easy- handling the rock itself is less so.

Admittedly, this is a very Metropolis sort of problem. Gotham gets clowns, Metropolis gets meteors, megalomaniacs, and other city-ending endeavors.

She is preparing the rock beforehand, this field of bright red escaping her eyes and engulfing the already-burning rock in its light. Heatvision is a hell of a drug- and this is intense enough that it makes the rock momentarily molten. The heat is intended to do just enough that the rock's internal structure will knit itself together… So that Power Girl can assail the softened, but more cohesive rock. Power Girl accelerates then. The moment that Karen hits Mach Yes, she draws a fist back, and there is a marvelous, impossible -clang-. The punch that she delivers is absolutely /titanic/, and had she performed this maneuver any closer to the city, she would have shattered every plane of glass on a solid city block or more.

The most impressive part of it is not the shockwave- which cannot be felt, but can be heard- but the fact that the meteor just -stops.- The next hit actually moves the thing backwards, and then Karen starts -progressing- towards the sea, shoving the rock bodily, an easier task now that she'd arrested its momentum. Very soon, it'll be deposited in the ocean with the others.

Well. This could well be the end. Just like dozens of time before, really, but Kate can honestly say she's never almost been obliterated by runaway meteors. She'd rather not think about whether this is the end or not. This, after all, is Superman's city, and crazy things like this happen all the time. Besides…

… she'd rather not have to reflect now on her life and whether she actually managed to do it right or not.

Instead, Kate does what Kate does best in situations way beyond her paygrade to deal with: feel quiet frustration, and seek distraction from those more troublingly existential thoughts she has no answer to. Thus, she turns to Emma, managing a smile that looks like it comes easy despite the situation as she looks up.

"That's what I like to tell myself, too," she answers the Hellfire Club's queen, rubbing a hand through a short mop of bright red hair. "I'm not so sure how my track record is panning out there. But really, evac is…"

'Our best option,' she wants to say, but really, where would they go? Can you outrun a meteor? Probably not without some kind of ridiculous jet.

And she left hers in Gotham.

"… maybe we should at least get a drink—"

But her joking suggestion tapers off as one of those meteors suddenly veers off course; she can feel the buildings pummel in a raucous series of impacts across the block. There's a curve of burning light — and suddenly, she's saved from having to face troubling self-reflection for another day.

Kate blinks. Right. Superman's city. Different brand of crazy.

"'Welcome to Metropolis,'" she echoes Barbara's sentiment, with a wry smile. "Huh."

A second passes.

"…. Maybe that drink wasn't such a ridiculous idea after all."

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