J Jonah Jameson.

Mission 5

Team: @antispidermenace , @gwynxapxnudd , @the-darkness-ismy-friend , @codenamemalachite

Starting location: Jameson’s office, Daily Bugle building.

This was it. He’d known this day would come sooner or later, but even then this was a little sooner than Jameson had ever imagined. He was expected to pick a side: HOPE and the others who were anti-mutant, or the mutants themselves and the other powered people and their allies. It was not a choice the Editor-in-Chief could make lightly. No one could …or at least they shouldn’t be.

It made him feel a bit better knowing he was not the only one having to make such a decision. Some of those other such people had been gathered to his office so they could discuss the matter, away from all the crowds outside.

He had cleared away a lot of the papers and folders cluttering his office, storing them safely aside to make room for his guests and had even had a couple of extra seats brought in. All on the opposite side of his desk to his own, but still there. Jameson had expected a few more people to show up, but obviously they had better things to do; or perhaps they were scared of what may happen if people don’t like the choices they made?

In an attempt to push aside any nervousness, Jameson cleared his throat and tossed a recent copy of the Bugle down onto the empty desk before them.

Mutants Riot; HOPE Attempts to Resolve Conflict

“I am assuming you have all read this? If not, now’s probably a good time to get familiar with it. This whole issue is getting very bad, very fast and they’re expecting big names like mine and Oscorp to pick sides. Now- I’d like to thank you all for coming to, hopefully, have a more civilised conversation than most are about what to do in regards to this whole…mess.” Jameson said before sitting down in his chair, clasping his hands together on his lap.

“But first, we should probably at least make sure we all know each other’s names ‘ey?” he suggested, doubting they all knew each other. Jameson himself only vaguely recognised the Oscorp boy. What was his name again: Henry? Harvey?  Harley…?

Okay, he figured. Maybe he does need to pick a side. Rachel was a mutant - seriously there was no other explanation for it. Not only that, although he wasn’t a mutant, he was pretty sure HOPE wasn’t going to be found of the goblin.

So when the Bugle called Felicity to ask him to come, Harry decided to entertain the idea. Worse case scenario he wasted an afternoon. Plus, no decision had to be made just yet.

So when the Uber pulled up to the building, Harry walked in like he owned the place. When he saw Rachel he smirked, walking over. “Hey.”

The over dramatic tossing of the paper didn’t phase Harry, yet the grandpa - seriously, no one reads papers anymore; make an app - not knowing who he was kind of irked him.

“Harry. Harry Osborn. Deputy President of OsCorps.”

In all honesty, he would pick neither SHIELD nor HYDRA at this point. Not after he took sometime to himself to reevaluate life decisions and then came back to find out about this organization called HOPE. Things have been rather busy it seemed. At least he still had one friend that still looked out for him and spoke up about this meeting after finding a way to get him inside without much explanation. A nobody like him that lived with one foot on the good side while the other on the bad, but it seems that line was about to blur soon. Leaving those that stood in between to come to a life changing decision. Much like Jameson, the OsCorp brat and whoever the girl was. 

 Crossing his arms, he leaned against the wall and gazed out of the window of the office, watching as life continued on without a care below them. Ignoring the fact that Jameson threw down the latest article of the Bugle onto his desk, even the words that were spoken. Jaw set and eyes narrowed slightly, thoughts being forced back to clear his mind. Shutting down any emotion that was deemed unnecessary at the moment on hand. 

Keeping his gaze focused on the cars moving about below, he listened to the introductions and thought of them to be utterly useless. Why introduce oneself when either of them might end up as an enemy in the future? Might as well go with the flock until it was time to pull away and forge his own path. “Junho” 

“You may not realise,” he suddenly spoke up, like a teacher trying to regain the attention of their students. “But this thing going on is big and it’s going to affect all of us, whether we like it or not. If they decide to force rules upon those who disagree, there will be confrontations in the streets; not just involving your typical gangs though. I bet a lot of those powered people who don’t want to follow their rules will end up confronting people like those in HOPE on the streets, with their powers. Now, I don’t know about all of you, but I don’t particularly want to get caught up in that on my way to work.”

He stood and put his hands in his pockets, turning to look out the window as if he expected to see a scene like the one he’d spoken of. 

“A lot of people you run into out there are all going to be asking you the same thing: whose side are you on? I’m sure at least one of you has already had such a conversation with family or a friend. Odds are, if you don’t agree with some of them, they’ll get angry. Picking the ‘wrong’ side for myself and companies like OsCorp could potentially ruin us, so we have to be careful about what we say about..all this.”

She paused to et him write before she continued, “HOPE is trying to do what so many have done before. Stop us. Out of fear or hate or some combination of the two. It will not work. We will rise and for every mutant they kill, two of them will die. Unlike some of my mutant bothers and sisters, I have no hesitations about fighting back in the same way we are being attacked.”

Mystique stepped away from the desk, watching him scribble. She’d made her point. Well, almost. “And I’d suggest for your sake that the Bugle stops writing slanderous things about superhuman. I’d hate for your precious news room to become a battleground for our uprising.” She smiled, “Got that?”

Not affiliated with any X-related groups.

Will go after the Senator.

HOPE will not succeed, she will make sure. No hesitation in fighting back. 

He quickly noted, glancing up at her once he was done. He fixed his trademark glare on her; the one Jameson had once kept reserved especially for Peter Parker. 

“I know you’re incredibly busy so I’ll skip the formalities and get to the point.” Her demeanour suddenly shifted, a smile curving her perfect lips. “I’d like you to publish a message for HOPE. Well-” she could tell he was going to speak, “I’d like to rephrase. You’re going to publish my story. I don’t necessarily have a lead. I am the lead.” Mystique changed to mirror Jameson, then returned to her own form.

“Yes, I’m a mutant,” she rolled her eyes, “And have something to say. So I suggest you pick up a pen and get ready to start writing.”

Her smile was a little unnerving, but he didn’t show it, instead opening his mouth with the intention of questioning her words, only to frown when she cut him off.

“Now what makes you think you can just walk right in here and tell me how to do my own-” he stopped as she changed, mouth hanging open as he stared in shock, Jameson only managing to snap out of it when the woman spoke again; the editor-in-chief nodding before quickly crossing to his desk, grabbing a notepad and a pen. “-what exactly is it you’re wanting to say?”

Raven stormed into the headquarters of the Daily Bugle looking to all the world like a regular citizen turned conspiracy theorist. It happened quite a bit, anyway, and she figured it would be the most effective way to get an audience with the big man himself. She knew Jameson was famous for sniffing out top stories and if she could show up with something big, however impossible it seemed, he would look into it. She didn’t even have to threaten the secretary, too much, before she was told that she could go up to Jameson’s office. 

In the lift, Raven shifted into a more composed, character. Professional black dress and heels, and glasses for a little added touch of pretentiousness. When she arrived at Jameson’s office, an intern was fumbling with blurry pictures from a folder and looked like he’d just been given a death sentence. SHe watched the exchange with a small smirk, waiting for him to call her in.

The Bugle head wanted to be the first to publish any new developments, so when he got a call from his intern about someone with something to say, he was eager to hear it.