May 25
Mood: Relaxed
Music: "The First Cut is the Deepest" - Sheryl Crow
Sorry for not writing yesterday - I was moving. It didn't take long for Kate to find a place for me, and it took even less time for her to send the movers (easiest job they ever had, btw - I own a suitcase, an overnight bag and a laptop. I gave them a half-full bottle of diet coke to put in the truck, just so it looked a little less empty) to my old place! Not that I'm complaining, mind you - this place is bigger than the house Mother and I shared in Keystone! And it has the biggest bathtub in the world, which is why my mood says what it says.
My computer did that screwy turning-itself-on thing again this morning, and I have no idea why. I wonder if it's the power supply, or if I should just pull the wireless card to keep it from picking up stray signals...damn thing. Davies called me this morning to let me know he wanted me out on assignment tomorrow - it turns out the Tribune is much shorter-staffed than they've been letting on, so this is a fantastic year to be an intern! I'm going to get my name on the byline after just a week of work! I'm supposed to be going out to the docks to cover the launch of some new luxury liner. Who in this city, besides people whose last names are Kane or Wayne, could afford a ticket on a luxury liner like this is beyond me, but obviously they're selling tickets to the stupid thing, so somebody must be buying them. I get to bring a photog along with me, and tell him what to take pictures of, which I'm rather stupidly excited about.
Let's see...what else is news-worthy? Is that really all the news I've got?
...
Yep, I guess it is. Sorry, folks - not much entertainment to be had here today.
May 26
Mood: Relieved
Music: "This is my head exploding" - Who does this again? I can't be bothered to pick up my iPod and look. I'm sure whoever's reading will know. If not, just make something up.
Well, I was right about being a reporter in this city. My first story, and I nearly end up dead because of it! I guess I should have known - could there really be a better target of opportunity for the freaks and geeks in this city than a huge luxury liner full of rich people? Of course, that wasn't really the target, but I'll get to that.
It was Two-Face, I think. Things happened so fast I never did get a good look at any of it. I'm hoping my photog did, but he's still unconscious. His camera seemed undamaged, though, so the guys at the Tribune are going over it as we speak. (and lest I come across as a complete bitch, my photog is going to be fine. He's just on a dose of painkillers, which is why he's currently out.)
So, let's sum up what I can remember, because I'm sure I'll have forgotten it all by tomorrow. Danny (my photog) and I get to the docks about an hour before the press conference. He's pissed that I hauled him out of bed early, but I'd like to get a good vantage point, and we do. We even get a couple perfect pictures of the liner as the sun rises behind it, and there's nobody here - exclusives! By the time Danny's done with that, people are starting to file in. We grab a spot close to the platform and shoot the breeze with a few of the tv guys, who seem nice enough. Danny seems to really hit it off with one of the anchormen...I wonder...
Anyway, another twenty or so go by, and the Mayor strolls out on stage. He's flanked by two huge bodyguards, which is probably a good idea for a politician round 'ere. Unfortunately, they turn out not to be good for much. His Honour rambles for a few minutes, "blah blah, tourism, blabbety, economy," so on and forth, then points to all the rich people who've come up on deck and are waving to the assembled reporters. Danny gets a couple pictures, and then all hell breaks loose. Something near the bottom of the ship explodes, and it starts taking on water. All the folks on deck scream and shout, the reporters jostle each other for a better view, and suddenly somebody (like I said, I'm 90% sure it was Two-Face, but the commotion made it pretty hard to tell) grabs the Mayor.
There's another explosion, and a thick black smoke clouds the air. The Mayor's halfway shoved into an old green Caddy when something swoops out of the air - Batman. Everything's a blur after that - apparently he disabled whoever the mastermind was and left him and his flunkies unconscious in the back of the caddy, returned the Mayor to his bodyguards, and swung out to the boat to assist the coast guard while they saved those unfortunate souls who were onboard. Now, I know what you're thinking -'at what point in this story did you almost die?' - and I reply by telling you to hold your horses, I'm getting there, already! Some people have no patience...
Anyhow, it turns out there's one more bomb that nobody noticed - under the reporter's platform. It was apparently a little late going off. I don't know how big the bomb is, but it sounds like the end of the damn world. It's lucky we're close to the front, it turns out; I get cut up pretty good from flying boards and the like, and Danny's arm is broken by a steel pipe - fucked if I know where that came from - but the people at the back...sorry, I need a minute.
...
Sorry about that. Okay, the people at the back...two of the tv news camera people are killed instantly, and a couple of anchorpeople are torn up pretty good. Response time of the EMTs was fortunately pretty good, so I think anyone who had a chance of being saved was saved. Final tally, according to the evening news, is four dead. I guess I'm lucky. Now I've got to write an article about this mess. Welcome to Gotham City. You're not really a citizen unless some Arkham escapee nearly ends your life, right?
May 27
Mood: Pleased but Sad
Music: "All You Wanted" - Michelle Branch
So, my article: "Terror on the Pier," hit the newsstands this morning. Davies was congratulating me even before we started getting emails about it, commending me on how well I reported the facts in a tough situation, how great the accompanying photographs were, and so forth. Apparently there's all sorts of buzz about myself and Danny being nominated for some sort of award. Which I should be excited about - this could be a huge accomplishment, and it might write my ticket right into GCU - but I can't bring myself to be happy about it. Four people lost their lives yesterday, good people, who were just doing the same job I was doing, and I'm getting kudos for telling the story. It just doesn't seem right to me.
I feel happy for Danny, though - he's been at the Tribune a long time, but he's never been in on a big story until now. It might help him out in climbing the company ladder a little, and after yesterday he deserves it.
I've been on the phone half the day, talking to other reporters. Television reporters, mostly, who want to interview me about what happened. So far, I've turned them all down - I don't think I want to get airtime talking about this. And there've been frantic phone calls from Renee and Kate - I had to threaten Renee with bodily harm to get her to stay in Keystone rather than coming to collect me and bring me home, and Kate wanted to assign me bodyguards. I declined, but I'm nearly positive that the unmarked van outside is her way of doing it anyhow.
On top of that, my laptop's acting even goofier. I must have broken something when I swung my bag at the super-pimp that first night. I'll have to find a decent repair place on the weekend. For now, I've yanked the battery and unplugged it. Stupid thing.
So, I'm a published reporter now. I should be happy, right? This is what I wanted, this is what I dreamed about...and yet...
I never got the superhero thing, really. Not until today. I understood in an abstract way what The Flash and my two mothers did for people, but until I was in the middle of it I didn't get it. People have to live with the knowledge that every day, there are people like Two-Face who might kill them because it serves a purpose, or as part of some plan, or simply because they were there. People can't defend themselves against something like that. So the heroes' presence keeps them from going insane, or totally losing hope, by telling them that there are people who can keep them safe, people who will stop the bad guys from getting them. I think that's the only way ordinary people can function at all.
Wait...when did my journal get so serious? Quick, I need a smart-assed remark...republicans suck! There we go - I feel much better now.
And...we're done.
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