“Come on, Bella, come to Mommy,” Lena cooed as she squatted on the floor, holding out her arms for the precocious and precious light of her life, the little princess, Isabella Sophia Dante Porthos. She didn’t know she had a big name or a big legacy, and right now the little mite was toddling with a ferocious concentration as her chubby little thighs waddled to and fro across the carpet in an attempt to speed her way into her mama’s arms.

Once she got there, Lena scooped her up and whirled her around the room, spinning and spinning until the light lingering scent of baby powder was in the air, and Bella and Lena were both caught up in absolute fits of giggles. Lena nuzzled her nose against the dark brown tufts of fuzzy hair as she cradled her daughter close. The terrible twos had not yet become terrible, but she was holding tight to every sweet moment she had.

Isabella cooed as Gabri stepped into the room, lighting up for her papa in a way that brought a true lightness to Lena’s soul. Lena could feel her husband behind her, even as he engulfed the two of them in his arms, intentionally rubbing the whiskers of his beard against the tender skin of her neck before plucking their daughter from her arms and tossing her into the air, only to catch her, time and time again.

Lena peppered them both with kisses, lingering on her husband, as she reluctantly pulled herself away. With one last kiss for Gabri, and a final nuzzle for Isabella, Lena gathered her purse, her phone, and her keys, and was out the door.

It was time to get back to work.

--------

She shook her arms and danced from foot-to-foot in the small anteroom. It had been over two years since the dignified Dante had stood behind a podium and addressed the press. In those two-plus years she had quietly gotten married and given birth to one of the lights of her life, Isabella. And then Achilles had requested she come work for him, and the introduction of dangerous legislation had pulled her from her hiatus.

She had meticulously chosen the venue. The Corcoran Ballroom of the Washington, D.C. Four Seasons hotel. She wanted it known that she would fight D.C. on their doorstep if she had to, and that she was willing to knock down doors.

The crowd was full of reporters. Trusted journalists she had worked with for years. Contacts she had established. Papers she respected. Friends and occasional foes alike were here. She didn’t see eye to eye with everybody in the press crowd today, but she didn’t need to. She knew that they would carry the message far and wide.

Lena had prided herself on saying much without needing many words. Conciseness was a skill, and she had turned it into an art. Give them enough to get their stories, but not too much to twist your context. Enough to inform, but not so much that they could distort.

Today was not a day for conciseness. Today was a day where anger was boiling just below her skin at the audacity of a small handful of Congresspeople to try and neuter the very groups that kept their constituents alive when the government itself had failed at every turn.

And so she squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, wiped her palms against the black silk of her pencil skirt, and she did one last check of the white silk blouse. No spots. She’d miraculously managed not to spill coffee on it and - nope, one last check and definitely no baby spit-up either.

Lena shook off the rust and strode out to the podium.

The moment she stepped onto the dais lights flashed and cameras clicked. She had forgotten the moment of discombobulation that always followed.

“I am here today, unfortunately, to discuss H.R. 3911, commonly referred to as the “End Vigilante Justice Act” and otherwise known as the “Superhuman Surveillance Act.”

“As had been mentioned previously, this bill is recklessly dangerous and if passed, will frankly result in the death of untold citizens. You’re used to me prettying things up a bit, but that’s not what we’re here to do today.”

“As it currently stands, so-called vigilantes have less ability to track and surveil you than your government does, all while doing a far better job of protecting you, in ways that the United States government has - and continues to - fail at.”

“We are all well aware of the various security scandals that the US government has had. The NSA alone has had more than its fair share. Lets not pretend that the US government does not track its citizens locations, their day-to-day lives, uses home devices to listen in to assumed-private conversations, and on occasion tap phones in ways that are in violation of the Constitution. The government has been taken to federal court or had whistleblower leaks attesting to all of the above. They do all of this and more. People have justified this and reasoned it away as the price you pay for safety, for liberty, for freedom. But the government has not been able to provide any measure of safety, and they have sold your liberty and your freedom to the highest bidder. The united states government is not altruistic. It does not have the best wishes or the safety of its citizens in its heard. It is cold, cruel, and callous, and this bill is just further proof of that."

“At some point in time, you could have justified this to yourself. Yes, your own government is violating your privacy, but they are doing it in your best interests, for your own protection. Benjamin Franklin once said: ‘Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.’ And surely enough, you will wind up with neither if this bill is allowed to progress."

“The US government has failed its citizens time and time again,” she said furiously, with a deep ache in her heart, gripping the edge of the podium until the wood dug into the soft skin of her palms. The government was supposed to be for the people, by the people, but it had become a pale shadow of what was intended by the forefathers, one that was altogether ineffective at protecting its citizens."

“Gothic City has been razed numerous times. It was abandoned by the government, left to become a sovereign city-state, and then reabsorbed after it had been run dry of all resources, its population faced with vast decimation, and all of its infrastructure destroyed. Gothic became a no man’s land ruled by metahuman terrorist factions, such as Satar. After being reabsorbed into the United States, Congress refused to pass robust aid packages for a city in dire need. This made it ripe for Grimmwald, who enacted the Purge. The government was silent, conveniently turning a blind eye while Gothic suffered yet again. Too ashamed to acknowledge its role in this tragedy, and too self-interested to do anything meaningful in terms of setting it right.”

Lena made eye contact with Taylor King as she said this. Taylor was a native of Gothic. She had been born there, grew up in its streets, had witnessed it become a shining new city on the cusp of a golden age, only to be razed to the ground. She refused to leave during the worst of it, instead reporting dispatches from the embattled city-state through the worst of it. She carried the scars, both physical and mental, that proved this. And her lips were pursed in fury as she nodded in agreement, and Lena knew without doubt she was on the right track.

“Gothic is not close to the only instance of this. When Zedracus attacked Ethulasia he brought extraterrestrial forces to this planet. These forces were not detected by any of the world’s governments prior to making entry into our airspace. And as they ported into our atmosphere, they complete decimated the little town of Ethulasia. The immediate response was not by our government, but by the “vigilante” forces that this bill seeks to weaken."

“More recently, when Grimm City, now known as Valor City was decimated by Ada Guillaime and her forces, the US government was nearly, if not entirely, absent.”

“At every turn the United States government has proven ineffective at best and callously criminally negligent at worst. They now seek to strip one of the most effective ways of gathering intelligence for the heroes that do they work they are unwilling and incapable of doing. The continued lack of action to protect its citizens should be a great and continuing shame of the US government. And this bill, which for all intents and purposes is yet another death warrant from the government, should never be passed.”

“I’ll take questions now.”

By the time things wound down over an hour later, her calves ached, as did the small of her back, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up with her daughter and husband. But she had waded back into the deep end, and there was work to be done before rest was to be had.

Every time that Lena put herself in front of a camera, it was a manufactured appearance. There was not one modicum of her appearance that was not exactly the way that she intended it to be. First impressions were vital, and with every aspect of her life, Lena intended to retain full control over what people thought of her.

It shaped the way that they viewed what she was saying, and it helped sell the particular vibes that she wanted something to have.

Today’s appearance was intentionally slightly disheveled, which was not far from an accurate portrayal in the fallout of the events that had transpired. Black hair was secured in an artfully crafted messy bun atop the crown of her head, slight pieces of bangs wisping around her classically pretty face.

Her naturally high class sense of style had been toned down to something more casual and demure. A loose white button down shirt was paired with sleek black leather leggings, giving her a youthful and chic edge, but also an air of dismissiveness.

She’d decided against any bracelets, and instead was adorned with only a simple silver band around her right ring finger, understated diamond studs and no other jewelry. She wanted the focus on her partially manufactured worn state, on the lack of airs that she was putting on, on the genuine nature that was being demonstrated.

Only trusted press agents had been chosen to attend what had become one of the most exclusive press events in the city, perhaps the country. Avalon press conferences had gained a reputation for being important, how could they not after the bombshell revelations at the hands of Ms. Antonia Dain, revelations that were still creating shockwaves.

The tone of the room was somber and tense, there were varying opinions of mutant rights of those present, something that Lena had intentionally accounted for so as to provide natural discourse and prevent anticipated questions from gearing more towards one end than the other and allowing her words to be torn apart by the fanatics on the internet.

Standing behind the podium at the front of the press room, Lena leaned one forearm across it, relaxing her body language and appearing casual in an almost lackadaisical manner.

The black square-framed glasses that she sported enunciated the light makeup around her eyes, as well as the slight circles underneath them.

“As I’m sure you are all aware, there has been conflict surrounding Avalon, conflict of a physical and dangerous nature,” she spoke clearly, not mincing words.

Behind her was a series of screens, all keyed to play specific footage and display specific images at her command via the concealed controller she had on the podium.

“There have been various different reports that are at direct odds with each other. Multiple sources have aggravated the events of what happened, and others have decided to turn this one way or the other for their own political means. None of this will be tolerated any longer.”

Lena Dante had built a reputation. She was able to fix any problem, to spin it positively for her client, but above that, she was known as being ethical and honest. She had dropped clients who had lied to her, who were in the wrong, and she had never outright told a lie, despite being a master of twisting the truth to her own means.

This was a different direction for her, this frank speech, and it was one that alerted everybody listening or reading that she meant business, even moreso than usual.

“Unsettled mutants took to assembling outside the walls of Avalon in protest. Protest of their treatment, and protest of Antonia Dain’s involvement with the Amaranth situation, which was covered in our previous press conference.” Pictures displayed on the screen of the congregating crowd, and the tension was almost palpable even in the still imagery.

“These people took it upon themselves to attack Avalon in an aggravated manner. Directly attacking one of our employees, and putting others in danger, as well as those of their own ranks.” Footage of an attempted neck snapping was shown, followed by the flaming pyres of fire that had been directed at Ruby Blake.

“No officers or any other form of serviceman were deployed, and so Avalon took it upon itself to stand its ground and keep its employees, as well as bystanding citizens, safe. Our employees utilized no offensive measures. Building shields were utilized, as was knockout gas and a porous form of concrete, in order to hinder attackers from doing harming innocents on the scene. All non-toxic, all non-lethal, and all less damaging than the tear gas that riot squads are wont to use at their own discretion.”

She was playing up the fact that nobody had come to their aid, that they were forced to do so themselves, and that would play heavily into the latter portion of the conferences events.

“All footage that we have, both from the buildings security systems as well as from the built-in cameras of one of those protecting Avalon will be made available to the public and the press per request for analytical purposes."

She had acquired fool footage of the events from Espada’s in-suit cameras, a brilliant and invaluable asset that would shut down any claims that they had instigated.

“We acted passively and without aggression. We instigated nothing, and did nothing other than stand up for our own safety, and that of the employees within our buildings. We are not the bane of the mutant cause, and are saddened that anybody would take it upon themselves to call us out as such.”

The slightest frisson of anger curled through her, actively suppressed as she retained her appearance of cool composure and no-nonsense delivery.

“Avalon was used as the subject of aggression for an issue that has been stirring this country for a long time. Mutants have been oppressed, there is no doubt about this. Mutants as a whole should not be held responsible for what happened at Avalon, and the violence perpetrated against it.”

“It is unfair to blame an entire group for the actions of a few, actions that are wrought from systemic and institutionalized oppression. Violence is not the answer, and it is misplaced, but it is easy to understand where it came from.” She painted them as understanding, and they were, to say the least. But they were still the victims of outrageous violence, and that was just a piece of the pie.

Straightening her glasses, Lena pursed lips that had been painted a fair shade of pink before continuing.

“There’s a deeper lying issue here, one that bears questioning and investigation. In the past several months, there have been what can really only be termed as terrorist attacks perpetrated on and against US soil, by domestic combatants.”

Images of Gothic City, Philadelphia and what had come to be known as the Siege of Kamelot, displayed on the screen behind her, illustrating her point.

“Not only have these instances not been acknowledged by President Stark, but in their wake, nothing has been done to prevent future instances. In all of the named instances, there have been numerous casualties. Some numbering in the thousands, some of notable people, such as Quintus Knightfall himself.”

Beguiling eyes peered down at the podium for a moment, taking a heavy moment of silence in the wake of Quintus’s presumed death during the siege.

"At the same time that these attacks have been taking place, there has also been a steadily increasing - especially over the last three years - amount of hate crimes against mutants. Who could stand here and blame them for having anger? Avalon most certainly does not. We would just like to see it directed in more productive manner, and towards somebody who should be doing something to help their cause."

“When combatants are on the White House lawn, it is of no hardship for President Stark to show up and defend, but anywhere else and there seems to be a notable absence of not only him and the addressing of these issues, but of any sort of official aid.”

Images of known heroes and other vigilantes flashed across the screen, ushering civilians to safety, saving them and other altruistic notions.

“In light of this, I would like to take the opportunity to announce something.” She paused, letting the anticipation sink in, knowing full well that what was next delivered would be another big splash announcement.

“From this point forward, Avalon will be offering sponsorships to some specifically chosen heroes. Equipment, training, facilities and any aid that they may require will be included.” The tone of the room shifted slightly, tension mounting and surprise spreading. The press agents who were present were clamoring to ask questions, chomping at the bit to be the first. But Lena was not done quite yet.

“The full outlines of this will be elaborated upon soon, but this venture is a concerted effort to make a sustainable difference in the world. Mutants and humans alike are in need of help in managing their abilities, and aside from several schools, there is no concentrated place for them to do so. Avalon hopes to provide such a place, and in doing so, help usher in a new era for those who want to give back to the world.”

Images flashed in a montage of notable heroic events in the past two or three years. “Both mutants and humans are capable of great good in this world, we hope to help more come to this realization and provide them with the opportunity and means to carry out their own good works. The group of individuals being put together will then serve as a protection force of sorts, dealing with conflict that police officers and other trained servicepeople are not equipped to handle due to its high octane and high powered nature.”

The hammer was about to drop, delivered in the sweetest tones of steel wrapped in velvet. “We hope that the President will also attempt to make strides forward in aiding mutants of all sorts, and other individuals who wish to dedicate their time to keeping people safe, as it seems that none of our police officers are properly equipped to do so.”

There was a genuine smile on her face, one that was sweet and almost serene, adding a genuine tone to her final statement.

"There will be more news forthcoming in the next days, and it is at that point that any and all pertinent questions you have will be answered. We thank you for your presence here today, take care and be safe."

Lena made direct eye contact, one by one, with a multitude of the reporters in the room, many of whom she knew personally, establishing direct emotional contact. Turning her back, she gave a small casual salute of two fingers off her forehead before turning her back and exiting Avalon's press room.

Not unlike its spiritual predecessor Kamelot, Avalon press conferences were no small shindig. This one was of particular importance.

Lena Dante, PR expert extraordinaire, had pulled out all of the stops.

The Villard Ballroom of the illustrious New York Palace had been painstakingly chosen as the venue. Set up to seat 180 people, Lena had handpicked the publications and a heady amount of the press agents and reporters present. Spanning the board for all demographics and positions, it would be a well-represented room.

Standing just outside the doorway, having left them to stew and chatter enough to get questions and blood flowing, but not so long that they grew entirely restless, the methodically manipulative woman entered the room.

Coming to stand on the small platform, behind the solid mahogany podium, she looked every inch the high-stakes, high-pay representative that she was.

The navy blue Alexander McQueen pencil dress hit her several inches below the knees, sculpted to a curvaceously toned physique, one that she worked hard to maintain. Small and tasteful sapphire earring studded her ears, accompanied by a small necklace that hung in the hollow of her throat, providing a matching ensemble, simple details and nothing that distracted attention from the information that she would be conveying.

The signature red soles of black Louboutin pumps quietly clacked against the dais as Lena approached the podium.

Here, she was at home.

Cameras were set up in the back of the room, filming what was promised to be a momentous evening.

It was 4:56 PM, with the press conference scheduled for 5 PM. There were at least three national news networks that had assured Lena they would be switching to a live feed of the press conference once it began, cutting into their broadcast time. This was something that was almost entirely unprecedented, save for matters of national security and national and international emergency. But then again, Lena continuously strode to break the mold, and almost always hit her mark.

There was an almost tangible silence in the room as all those in attendance focused their attention on Lena.

Eschewing the earwig and backstage producer, Lena was running this show herself without anybody feeding tactics to her - something that was usually reserved for her to do with others.

Black hair was stylishly coiffed in a bun, several strands of bangs falling down the side of her face to soften her features and provide the appearance of approachability and relatability.

Everything that Lena Dante did on this stage was part of a show, an elaborate act, a persona put on to the world. It was a play she had lived her whole life, and one that she naturally excelled at.

“Thank you for being here tonight,” she said, engaging the room with the slightest of smiles tilting up the corner of her mouth.

Needlessly adjusting the mic on the podium, she looked down at the blank sheets of paper in front of her, already knowing exactly how she was going to play this.

“The people and networks and blogs in this room have been specifically selected to be the bearers of news to the rest of the world. An announcement the gravitas and monumental nature of which is unprecedented.”

Taking a moment to make personal eye-to-eye contact with several of the numerous familiar faces, the public relations expert continued. “I’m sure that you’re all more than familiar with me standing before you and announcing something, or correcting something. Tonight will be a bit different, to everyone’s satisfaction, I’m sure.”

Looking off to the wing of the dais, where the unimpeachable Antonia Dain stood waiting, Lena once again looked back at the filled room. “We’re joined now by none other than Ms. Antonia Dain, CEO of Avalon.”

Stepping back from the podium, Lena held her hands clasped loosely behind her back, waiting the imminent appearance of one of only two people involved in Avalon who could handle PR with anything close to Lena’s level of almost obsessive perfectionism.

(This post will be the kickoff for something else, involving Antonia. Following her post, you are welcome to post IC reactions in this thread - this news is being broadcast live across simultaneous networks - and it’ll be open for OOC comments the whole way through)

(this is just a record of injuries that Lena's sustained. for my own reference)

Abduction and Torture

• Four broken fingers (three on the left hand, one on the right)
• Split and bruised cheek
• Shallow slices across her skin - several deep enough to leave light scars
• Black eye