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(no subject)

WHO:Jonah Jameson, Bianca Reyes, darkness pledge
WHERE:The offices of the Banner
WHEN: 1st of May
WARNINGS: Jonah likes to curse
SUMMARY: Jonah is having a job interview with mrs Reyes and has arranged a meeting to rent out one of his appartments
FORMAT: whatever you want

Jonah was waiting in his office. He had a glas of water and a set of pills standing in front of him, while looking through the glass doors into the press room. The scents just weren't right in this place. The temp secretary cringed whenever he even looked her way and it seemed she was only doing out the day, because his city editor had begged her to stay.

He'd never had that much trouble with the Brant girl back home, that's for sure.

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Bianca'd had, like, no cash on hand. Her purse wasn't with her, after all--she'd been grabbed in her scrubs. This Iron Man supposedly only provided housing or something? And she wasn't really going to be a superhero here (with what? No powers had manifested yet). But her son'd had a little money, and taking careful note of how much she'd used to pay him back later--and being the canny shopper she was, and finding something professional and rather cheap, it wasn't much--she showed up exactly at two o' clock, smartly dressed.

"Mr. Jameson, I'm Bianca Reyes. Thank you for the interview," she says, holding out her hand.

It took him a moment to realize that she was holding out her hand and he moved slightly out of his chair to take it.

He took a good look at her, she seemed all business, which was good.

"I'm J.Jonah Jameson. Welcome to the Banner. I hope you're not as tenderhearted as that nitwit outside." He says this in a very gruff voice.

"If by 'tender-hearted,' you mean 'meek,' Mr. Jameson, then no. I am not meek," she says, taking a seat.

Apparently she's not meek or she wouldn't have just corrected him there.

Luckily for her, he actually likes it when people contradict him. Even if he'd never admit it out loud. It reminds him of Robbie.

"So what jobs have you done before this?" A clear invite to give him a cv.

"Aside from retail and the usual high school jobs, I worked for four years as an administrative secretary for the University of Texas in El Paso----as a Unit Secretary for Southwestern General Hospital for seven years, although the last two of them I was working per diem as a nurse."

Yes, two jobs, part-time (with benefits, though, she'd made sure she worked enough hours for them). That's what happens when you have to juggle your hours around a newborn.

"After that, I have been a nurse at various hospitals in El Paso, for the last 11 years. I was part of a nursing pool in the beginning, then went onto trauma nursing. Two of those years I was a Nursing Supervisor but I decided I preferred Trauma Nursing. I've been a nurse in the ER of Thomason Hospital in El Paso for the last six years."

A pause.

"Before being brought here."

Honestly, she's possibly a bit overqualified, but she's not in it for the money.

Definitely overqualified, but Jonah's not about to throw away the best bet he's had since arriving here.

"Do you know what this medication is for?"
He aims at his heart medication, checking to see if she'd know what to do if his heart plays up again.

"Nitrostat pills. You have a heart condition."

She frowns at his cigar.

"You should not be smoking."

"My doctor bad home kept nagging about those too. But with this 'city', I need something to make me feel good."

He puts out the cigar though.

"You're hired."

"What are the hours, what's the pay, when do you want me to start, and how do you like your coffee? For reference."

Edited 2009-05-03 05:58 (UTC)

"Eight to six, anything longer than that is overtime. Pay is [include number] and black."

He grabs one of his pills and flushes it down with a glass of water.

"You're not some vigilante, are you?"

That works for her. He was right--pay's not horrible.

"No. I'm not. I was told I have some...power, but I haven't seen it yet."

"Good, the only thing worse than some superpowered villain is some self righteous menace to society pretending they're above the law."

"My son is a superhero though," Bianca adds.

"What, think the police isn't good enough for him?"

"He'd join the police, but he's a little young."

Edited 2009-05-03 06:52 (UTC)

"How old is he?" Jonah asks before he stops himself.
"It still isn't right. Kids shouldn't put themselves in danger like that. Especially when they start getting in the way of the police and most of them don't have a clue what they're doing."

"It isn't right. I want him to worry about homework. I want him to worry about girls, and have the worst thing that happens to him be a grounding for staying out after curfew."

She takes a deep breath. "But no matter what I do, that's not what he thinks about. That's not what he cares about."

She goes on, "An alien artifact bonded to his spine and because of it, he was the only one in the world that could help the other heroes get to a satellite in space that was letting someone take over the world. Because of that, I lost him for a year. For a year I thought my son was dead, because in the middle of the night, he left home to help save me and my husband and my daughter and everyone else that needed to be saved."

"Also, because of the armor, he was the only one that could keep the entire human race from being enslaved by aliens, so he kissed us goodbye and risked his life to save us all--again--even though I didn't want him to go. And we nearly lost him again. Another 'self-righteous vigilante' saved him or we would have," she says.

"So no. It isn't right. But the police like him, actually. He helps them a lot. So do the firefighters--they let him have a ride on the truck one time after he saved some firefighters caught in a five-alarm fire, and they let him wear one of their helmets."

Even the cops love Blue Beetle, JJ. Everyone in El Paso does.

"Every day, he goes out, and I worry for him, but I can't stop him. I sometimes regret that my husband and I taught him so much about responsibility and doing what you can for other people, I really do. He'd be safer if we hadn't. I want him to stay home and play video games instead of reading his superhero notes and doing his superhero research and training with the other superheroes. I want him to be selfish and just worry about having fun and getting into college and friends like he's supposed to at his age."

After a deep breath, "But that is not who my son is. When he's 25--unless, Dios no lo quiera, something happens to him--and still doing the same things he does, even better at it for years of trying to get better at saving lives than he already is, that will still be who my son is. And I will still be proud of him."

Edited 2009-05-03 07:33 (UTC)

Jonah sat down. Utterly baffled at what to say.

"My son, John, he's an astronaut. I often wished he just came home, joined me at the Bugle and was safe, but...

He likes the stars. He loves to serve his country and be the big hero and all I can do as his father is be proud of him and cheer him on."
He harumphed a bit.
"So yeah, I get it."

He got back up and went to the window.
"We have..." he made airquotes "superheroes back home. I don't so much mind the Fantastic Four, or the Avengers, at least they're authorized, and public. But..." he placed his hand on the window. "then there's guys like Daredevil, or Iron Man or worst of all Spider-Man. They claim to be heroes and the kids love them, look up to them. But nobody seems to notice that casualties that come along with them."
He turnred back to her.
"I had a friend back home, man named Norman Osborn. Norman was... tense, tough, hard to get along with... But I'd known him for years. One night, his son came home and saw Spider-Man dropping him off at his penthouse appartment. They still don't know what happened to him and Spider-Man never even bothered to try and talk to the cops about it. The poor kid got obssessed, delusional, fell into drinking, and that blasted menace Spider-Man just keeps on targeting the poor kid. And yet we're supposed to treat him as if he's some kind of hero."

"Not all of them are the way they should be. I know this. It's a scary thought, knowing this, knowing what they can do."

She goes on, "But then there are the ones like my son. Like your son. And you're right--all we can do is cheer them on. And be proud of them. And in your case, all you can do is find out the truth about the ones who aren't like that, and tell people. The truth is important."

Like 'The aliens that are pretending to be nice are trying to enslave us all.' That kind of truth.

"I think I will like working here. I've always wanted to see how a newspaper works."

It seems exciting.

Jonah grumps.
"Can you start today? I'm willing to pay a full day for four hours of work. That kid outside can't seem to make a decent cup if her life depended on it. It tastes like sewage water."

It's not hard to make black coffee, she wants to say, but something tells her there's much more to it than that.

"I can start in two days. I just got here and need to make sure I am situated and that my son is okay. He's had a rough time of it while here."

There has been, and will continue to be some cuddling and talking until he's all talked out.

"But I can get you a cup of coffee before I go."

Jonah sighs. Two whole days of dealing with incompetence.

"Do you have an apartment yet?" He was planning to use the last apartment left for offices, but the quicker the woman is situated, the sooner she'll get to work and the better off he'll be.

"I've made arrangements. It still needs to be furnished and I have to buy food and clothes."

Jonah grabs a cheque out of his desk and fills it in.

"Here's an advance. Make sure you get something decent. I can't have you showing up at work all exhausted because you buy some crappy second hand bed."

He hands the cheque to her, it's for a 1000$

She hands it right back.

"I can't take this."

Dude, she is not taking a 1000 when she hasn't even worked yet.

She gets up.

"But thank you anyway, Mr. Jameson. I will see you in two days."

Jonah looks at the cheque, rather stunned that anyone would refuse that much money. Then he tears up the check and puts it in the paper shredder. Can't have some nitwit taking advantage of his generousity.

"Just be careful, this city can be dangerous."

"Don't worry. I can take care of myself."

Then she goes.

A few minutes, she comes back with a hot cup of coffee.

"Here you go."

Then she leaves again.

It's damn good coffee, black, just like how he said he liked it. You had to learn to work miracles after a while with the shoddy coffee-makers in the breakroom at the hospital.

Jonah sips his coffee and smiles. Glad to know at least one damn thing in this city is going right.

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