The Whitehouse (Newcastle Administration Edition)

After the demonstration of power made by the mutant community, it was clear that the symbolic message they left in their wake, of the home of the most powerful seat in the world being torn asunder and left in ruin, that the restoration of the nations heart would need to be the top priority for the morale of the American people.

She stands in her same awe-inspiring, robust iconic architecture. The bright veneer of her walls gleaming like a porcelain beacon in the capital of this great nation.

Yet it is obvious that she was underdeveloped for this modern world, and as such required certain upgrades.

Security Systems (Automated)

- We start from the gates which are now made of Euridite metal, a compound that is reactive to force. Should they be attacked, or even climbed, they will expand rapidly until they form into a solid wall of black metal. If they reach the maximum width they will grow upwards and the nanotechnology within the molecules will be let loose by the microscopic chemical reaction to form a cacoon with rudimentary electrified spikes protruding.

- The lawn grass is no longer, actual grass. It is an electrically conductive form of sheet metal, an early invention of the Animus Corporation brands that never made it into mass production, that can become razor sharp if hit with a current of energy.

These are the notable public measures opened to and distributed by national news networks to ensure no visiting parties to the capital attempt to enter the grounds unexpectedly. All visitors must be vetted and pass an extensive background test before being allowed entry.

(More to come)

(Work in progress I'm guessing.)

Well, well.

LMAO!

I expected something grand lol.

Anyways, I just gave Zedora that 1.5 Animus Corp update lol

@the_matriarch: shoon mishy, shoon.

How so? You got her rocking the Evo?

@_retrofire_: Nothing, I just merely mentioned you doing a software update.

But I do want an EVO lol

@the_matriarch: Oh word, your welcome :P

I got you once I get back into Animus mode, which might be sooner than I thought.

@_envy_:

@_envy_: Newcastle lives in a New Castle. You try those old tricks again you might end up sawed in half ;)

All things said and done Animus might owe you a medal behind closed doors. You put him in office.

@maverick_6 said:

@_envy_:

Ahhh don't tell me I got Mav on my side... Shit's about to go down.

@_envy_:

And more money, will mean more power.

@_envy_: You would think that. But in the end, you traded the devil you knew...

@_retrofire_:

I forgot to switch accounts....

Too lazy to fix LOL

@_vex_: Animus be like "Open a secure line and close the curtain. A-phone, Call: Envy"

Ring

ring

"Hello"

Smh so lazy

*Retrofire said*

@_retrofire_:

@_envy_: xDDDD

@_retrofire_: I want my house back....

@clara_mass: Go rule...Luxenberg or somethig.

@_retrofire_: *expects gif battle....gets told to go away instead*

@_animus_:

The picketers had been going on for hours now, what had started early that morning with only a dozen or so protesters had grown into the low hundreds by lunchtime. Some had come wearing t-shirts emblazoned with the visage of Dox as he had been dressed during his recently released video, one in which the White House's current resident had been painted in a very unflattering light. The demographics of the crowd skewed young, something one could identify with but a glance, all but a few could be no older than 25 at the most. The protest had gone on without a hitch so far, nothing but signs and chants to tell their message, even going so far as to allow themselves to be directed by White House Security to a point far enough away as to not break their own protocols. A silent but non-violent affair, yet one that would surely generate more exposure within the media on a number of fronts.

The signs:

Stand up against Spanish Armament Act - Economic Sanctions against Spain NOW!

Put Rama Red on Trial ! #NormalPeopleLivesMatter

Down with Maverick PMC - We Already Have An Army Not Owned By the 1%

My Tax Dollars Are Not For Senators To Get Laid With!

We Pay For The UN, Make Them Investigate STRIKE!

Shut Down the Military Industrial Warmongers - Avalon, Animus, Greystoke Industries

@_dox_ said:

GO AWF!

@_animus_: Paying you a visit soon, mano.

I'm really digging Dox.

@fraga: Cool.

@_animus_: I do believe it's time we put an end to DOX lol

@shanana: I was just reading that lil titfortat in his first dis-blog, we gotta meet up lol.

@_animus_: I'll throw something up after I deal with the mess he's left at my front door

@shanana: Sounds good

The will of the people is even stronger than a goddess :)

@shanana: @_animus_: *insert the Alexiandrian quote about lions and sheep here*

But the Sword of the Goddess, is far more durable than the bones of the people.

Always going to the sword at the first sign of criticism, you only further reveal how unqualified you are for your throne.

(Plus you can't find me so nah nah nah nah nah)

I've got the perfect strategy in mind.

@_dox_: Unqualified? I don't think so. There are many types of leaders, you just reminded me which one I am.

(Ziccarra can't find you, but Zedora can) :)

I already outlawed your ominous statements and gifs!

Can she? You will have to just try and find out....

@_dox_: No need too, Zedora doesn't care about organics lol

@_animus_:

Ziccarra’s presidential jet bounced across the runway at Regan International; though she didn’t want to get too heavily involved with the mysterious whistleblower, she needed to ensure that Spain’s secrets remained in Spain. For the first time in years, the Spanish Prime Minister touched down in America flanked to the left and right by her own personal body guards; as well as members from President Animus’ personal camp.

Adorned in Elisabetta Franchi blush-colored strapless jumpsuit with gold grommet accents at the waist and pleated detailing on the trousers styled with nude Louboutin’s, Ziccarra pushed through the runway to a limousine awaiting her arrival.

“Call the President; Let him know I have landed. Call the Maverick Rep. Let them know the meeting is a go.

@maverick_6

*grabs the popcorn*

Some Time Ago....

Do you know what it means to have had the whole world in your hands?

Unbeknownst to the outside world, President Pierce hadn't died an American hero. Instead she was she expertly incapacitated and detained through the intellectual efforts of her former Vice President, Thomas Newscastle. Although it should have been expected in retrospect, the President was played like a fool; her tray smacked off the dinner table by a man whom wouldn't have had his seat if weren't for her saving grace.

I was the prophet this world needed, but I was led off my path.

"Thomas, I should kill you where you sit," she angrily exclaimed as silver cuffs weighed her hands down. Even with the need to show who was the superior, Miss Pierce wiggled her fingers, crimson colored energies trailing behind every movement made, ensuring him she could still end his life if she willed it so.

"Or maybe I should give you the blessing of mobility and then take it away once you've savored the sensation", it was clear to see the distaste spelled out on those furrowed eyebrows, the bulging violet eyes, and the fresh scent of sweat sliding down her pampered cheeks. It was a sight to see, the mistress of mayhem living within a state of genuine emotional depth. For a moment she could almost be passed off for being human.

"You've got me f*cked up Thomas," With her dark brown hair restrained in a high ponytail, cherry flavored lip balm absent on her honey bee lips, and her signature devilish smirk off display; Miss Pierce felt as though all of her individuality was being ripped from her soul.

"AND I REFUSE TO BE YOUR B*TCH!" In a valiant effort to utilize her spiritual connection to the strings of reality, Miss Pierce ignored all inhibitions and pushed her arms forward in an attempt to eviscerate the heart from @_animus_'s chest. Sadly, however, her crimson energies simply flickered like a side show magic act; leaving the wicked witch confounded by what hadn't occurred.

"No, no, no......." Miss Pierce had previously felt it in her bones, especially the weakening connection to the metaphysical realm, but until now she was living in denial; unable to accept her submissive predicament.

"This can't be happening to me," she tensed up and appeared baffled by her hands. Nothing happened. Why wasn't anything happening? It was then and only then that the look of shock settled into acceptance and then her eyes watered as she recognized her loss.

"NO!" Her screams echoed as she dropped to her knees, cupping her chin as she angrily sobbed true tears. It was too excruciatingly painful to know she was powerless again. It didn't set right in her trembling heart and she honestly wasn't certain how to handle it.

"Sweetheart, this can't be true." A worn Miss Pierce earnestly reached out to Thomas, still in a state of disbelief, unable to process how she'd been checkmated so effortlessly.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Explore when you're ready. I wanted to make canon Thomas' ascension background and their status going forward)

@clara_mass: (? *Wings it*)

The fire crackles in the ominous and deformed semi wrecked oval office. The pristine couch rebounds as Thomas stands and walks over to the decanter that held the brandy delivered personally by the last King of England in the mist of the first world war. The smooth caramel colord liquid laps against the crystal glasses. "Michelle. The fact you didn't see it coming only proves that it shoud have happened, proves it was overdue. "

Corking the decanter and throwing two cubes of ice in each glass, Thomas walks over to her, his face partially made amber against the raw fire, "I always respected your drive, you know. Your campaign was always on my radar. You seized this country at the most flexible time in its history since...the civil war perhaps. Ripe, volatile, and shifting. But you had one major flaw in your ambitions."

His finger tip reshapes into a key, sliding into the cuff hole and clicking, then clacking as the chains fall to the wayside. The new POTUS to be steps closer to the non-threatening former, and extends the drink to her, "You squeezed too hard, and it all came slipping through your fingers. Cheers." The glass taps hers as he turns his back to her, not an ounce of worry in what she might do.

"Your power, in all forms, is gone. But, because of the respect I have for you on some level, I'll let you choose. I can either throw you in a prison I've established beneath Alcatraz once it's finished construction. Or, you can allow me to...reimagine you. To let out that caged insanity that you keep so well exiled to the back of your mind, and give it freedom, give it a voice...give it power. Of course, I understand if you'd rather be frozen and kept in the deepest darkest hole in the world for the rest of your life. It's admirable."

Swirling the drink in his hand as his pleated leg crosses over another thigh he watches the drink glimmer, "However I am extremely busy so I'll need a decision sometime within the next five minutes."

@maverick_6: Waitin on you brosef

@_animus_: It'll be a few hours before I'm off. Will reply later. On mobile currently.

@maverick_6: Cool lookin' forward to this.

One would might be mildly surprised to learn that the representative of Maverick, was the CEO himself. Johnathan F. Bold. This was something that was of enough signifigance to warrant his personal appearance. As someone with a very many enemies. An of course, he had many an option to pick from for Security. He however disliked drawing excessive attention to himself. He'd had many a shadow company body guard all around him, keeping keen aware of any threat. With each individual able to feel the vibrations of the area for miles, they kept track of everything that happened around them at all times. Carrying deceptively powerful firearms rather than assault rifles.

The more "well equipped" soldiers were not invisible to the naked human eye or well most any eye. They were cloaked, waiting to incapacitate any would be assassin at a moment's notice, though non-lethally. There is no need for any more messes to add to what has already started. His appearance was relatively quiet, as he was in hardly any mood for press. He got to his limousine with few hounds on his trail and could watch the scenery from behind the relative safety of transparent aluminium windows backed by blast proof glass.

"...Ah D.C. Place with the highest concentration of people with their heads far up their asses." He'd know as he is rather experienced in politics. There was a saying that goes "The only difference between democrats and republicans is the velocities at which their knees hit the floor when corporations comes knocking on the door." He had friends in the government of the U.S and other countries, as well as numerous enemies. And now, he and someone from government and a corporation, a powerful man, animus, had been made targets of mutual opposition. A hacker named Dox. His sword of truth cut deep enough to actually give this corporate juggernaut pause.

He pulls out a phone as he receives a call. (@shanana)

"Yes?.....Excellent. I'll be arriving promptly." He says in reply as he leans back and hangs up, already on his way, staring out the window with a smirk across his imperfect face. His air of earned arrogance ever present a he made his way off to go discuss these matters of attack. To meet with the president no less. He's met previous presidents briefly, but he was rather eager to meet this one. (@_animus_) He lights a cigar a cigar as he reclines back in his seat.

Exhale. "Don't think anyone's gonna come close to falling asleep for this meeting..."

I'll most likely pay a visit here. There are some things I would like to discuss with the president.