The Manhattan Beacon, New York City...
Feathered fingers tapped away on a keyboard, beats thumping from a pair of headphones and a webbed foot tapping on the carpet. Drake was in the zone.
It took him a month, but he finally compiled enough information to get a green-light on his next article. A piece on a new designer drug on the streets, specifically for mutants. Some sort of science mojo that enhances mutations for a short duration, only for the users to drop like flies from their own powers killing them.
"Ain't that ironic. The real sick part though, is that this is all some kind of scam to kill off mutants, starting with the junkies on the streets. I'm strapped for proof on that front... I'll just need to hit the streets again, find out who's supplying these deale-"
Drake's editor, Lawrence, tapped on the Duck's door. "Drake! You got that Aranea piece still on file?" He asked, almost impatiently.
Drake removed his headphones, leaning over from his monitor to glare at Lawrence. "Seriously? Another fluff piece? L, I got something big I'm working on! If you give me just a few more days I'll have it ready for ink-"
Lawrence put his hand up sternly, leaning on the door frame, as if this conversation has happened many times before. "Okay, two things. One, people buy those "fluff pieces" like whatever kids have instead of hotcakes these days. And two, we can't wait that long. It's a dry spell this month, so would you mind just helping to keep the lights on?" His hand flipped over into an open palm.
Drake stammered a few times before giving up on even arguing. He grabbed the folder named "webs for cash" out of his desk and tossed it over to Lawrence. "Fine. Don't go blaming me for trying to give people something complex to think about."
Seconds later, a few of the staff went running down the hall, then a few more. Lawrence and Drake looked at each other in confusion before Zoe from a few doors down stopped in front of them. "You guys need to see this..." She said, grief written all over her face before running with the rest.
Drake walked out to the lounge area, everyone gathered around the T.V. All he could see was everyone's reactions, but was far too short to see what they did. With a small groan, he started pushing his way through the group. "What the hell's going... On..." Drake's bill dropped open in shock at the news footage.
The coverage was of the attack on Nihonto Khan in Tokyo. The details were scarce, as the events were still unraveling across the globe. The only footage available was choppy smart-phone clips, but it was enough to show just what kind of brutality and mayhem currently ensued. Most importantly, at least to Drake, was that this was labeled as a hysteric mutant riot, they even threw in "terrorism" a few times.
"Oh god. Why would this happen? This is the last thing mutants need right now... I have to go there..."
Drake turned away, pushing his way back out of the group and started storming to his office. Lawrence quickly noticed and followed him. "No no no, don't even think about it Drake! We can't afford to have you abroad, not now." He pleaded, knowing that aggression would just push the Duck to do it even more.
Drake grabbed his coat and hat off the rack, not even looking at his editor. "Yes, you can. Just access my backup stories, I have enough filler to keep up my quota for the week. And don't even start with me L! I-I just can't NOT go there! You never mind the fact that there is something rotten about this entire thing, think about how many papers we'd sell with that story!" He yelled up at Lawrence, passing him and heading for the elevator. "I'll have my phone on, I'll be careful and yes I'm using the company travel card"
Lawrence couldn't even utter a syllable before the elevator doors closed.
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