die_muties:

"...and it is imperative that those of us who do not possess the gene for mutancy to insure that our civil rights and inherent freedoms are not violated by those that do. I do not advocate violence or discrimination against mutants; on the contrary, I advocate assimilation and integration with the general populace, after said people have declared their empowered status and work with the government for a set number of years to improve our country." President Ndroso says to the assembled crowd.

( Read more... )

black_prince:

Blackheart was no longer in Ghudaza. He was at the "true" corporate headquarters of Diabolus, a pocket dimension bordeing the Material plane and his home-realm. Blackheart sat upon a black-iron throne as he gazed at various images, each concerning one of his company's interests. Oscorp's aquisition had brought many young minds to his cause. He'd simply have to cultivate them to see his point of view. Blackheart waved his hand and brought one of the images in his direct line of sight. The image was of Ghudazan prsident, Dhamir Ndroso's flight to the United States to confer with American politicians concerning policies toward mutants.

"You know what you must do." He stated to the massive figure behind him.

"Yes. I'll make it look good, create a few matyrs, but Mr. Ndroso will remain unharmed. As per your wish."

"Exactly. Serve me well and I'll grant you true life again." Blackheart replied back.

"Oh don't worry about that. You are strong, certainly worthy to be served." A golden hand reached up and crushed the image in its grip. "Besides, I'd kill flatscans for fun."

i_am_doom:

Doom does not normally use an image inducer or hide his face beyond his mask, but today warranted such, if for no other reason that he did not need his enemies dogging his heels at this point in time. He looks up at the Ghudaza branch of Diabolous Industries from the bench in the industrial park and shakes his head again; it's so blatant that only a caveman could miss it. But when Doom looked about, all he could see, in a sense, were cavemen.

He enters the building and looks down upon the secretary.

"I'm here with my appointment for Mr. Jericho. Please tell him I've arrived." Doom says, cutting the air with the fingers of his hand that she cannot see. He presses upon her will, just so, and she presses button on the intercom.

"Mr. Jericho, you have a visitor..." she says, looking up as she realizes she doesn't know his name.

"Tell him Doom is here." 

"Doom wishes to speak with you, sir." she says flatly, the mental fog having settled over her mind.

latverianregent:

It was a time of indulgence. Kristoff was playing one of his Leslie Fish albums while he worked on blueprints for the changes in irrigation systems. The nationwide effort for expanding the innovative and inexpensive power grid was going well; and looked to improve quality of life as well as economic production possibilities. But always cleanly. There could be no turning of the country into one of the many filthy, polluted places in other parts of Eastern Europe. This was Latveria.

So he's happily working, and humming along to the music.

"Young -- I mean, Dr. Vernard?" One of the staff asks.
"Yes, Hans?"
"There's an official screen-call for you."
He won't get excited. He knows who it's not -- Doom would have used the private connection set up for him, most likely. "Thank you, Hans. Have them put it on screen here."
Kristoff turns the music down and straightens his ever-formal posture even more.

legends_media:

"Today's top story in the corporate world is the complete takeover of Oscorp assets by the fledging new conglomerate, Diaboulus. Oscorp had suffered significantly after it's CEO, former Seceretary of Defense Norman Osborn, was arrested for his treasonous actions. When it seemed his former company would be liquidated entirely, reclusive CEO Malik Jericho bought the rights to the company's former patents and subsidiaries. This reporter had a chance to briefly speak to Mr. Jericho after his meeting with former Oscorp executives."

The camera cuts to the report running up to a tall, black man with a slight eerie presence to him.

"Mr. Jericho, what do you say to the rumors that your company  is looking to exploit whatever shady dealings Mr. Osborn may have had in the works?"

The man turns down to face the reporter.

""No one is going to claim that the things Norman Osborn has done both as the Green Goblin and as Secretary of Defense were not deplorable. However his company is full of bright minds and hard workers who shouldn't suffer due to their employer's actions. I saw an opportunity to preserve jobs and make a profit while doing it. As for whether we turn up anything Osborn may have been working on, well you can just ask SHIELD officials, who will confirm that Diabolous will be more than cooperative in handing over anything Osborn may have left behind.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment."

The big man entered his limosine as the reporter directed the camera back to her coworkers at the station.

black_prince:

'He shood be here soon.'  Blackheart mused to himself as he stood at the entrance of the Diabolus facility. Of course Blackheart wasn't in his true form, rather thay of his human alias, Malik Jericho. Even in a human form, "Malik" was an intimidating presence, standing at six feet five inches tall with a deep, chilling voice. As far as human guises went, Blackheart enjoyed this one. He was currently awaiting the arrival of his newest client, someone very interested in the strides Blackheart's technomancers had made in Sentinel technology.

black_prince:

For all his talk of wanting to surpass his father, the Hell-Lord Mephisto, Blackheart realized he too often resorted to similar power games. For one thing he allowed himself to be caught in a running feud with the Ghost Riders. He still despised them with every fiber of his dark being, but he now realized pursuing such interests were no longer beneficial to his goals. His attempts to outright murder his father and take hisw throne had born fruit in the short-term, only for the old man to return and reclaim his position and banish Blackheart from his realm. Still, such endeavors had not been unfruitful. The name of "Blackheart" was a respected one in Hell, one that inspired both fear and respect. He even had his own Hell-Realm. While not the equal of his father's, it's very existence proved Blackheart was no longer bound to Mephisto in any way. So when he realized how similar he had been acting to regards to his own agena, it opened hius eyes as to his own failures.

He needed a new way to achieve supremacy. Humans were still the key, but corrupting individuals or the so-called heroes was a dead end. Blackheart had become inspired during his time as a bound servant of Selene, Black Queen of the Hellfire Club. The Club was a perfect example of how an amoral elite could direct events to suit their agendas. Blackheart decided he would do something similar, but on a much grander scale. Thus he took on the idenity of Malik Jericho, and a series of hostile takeovers, corporate mergers, back-office goals, and a bit of old-fashioned soul-selling, Blackheart had built a young, but significant corporate power, Diabolus.

Using this company as his vehicle, Blackheart would slowly but surely influence the elites of human society, who in turn would expose these differences onto the general populace, changing them bit by bit to fit Blackheart's image of an ideal mortal world. Science, business, medicine, politics, magic, and even theology, Blackheart had branches created to twist the next generation of leaders in these fields to his vision. He knew there would be those that'd oppose him, but he waqs no longer like his father. He would not seek out his enemies, tempting them with deals, mocking their attempts to stop him, or deriding their moral beliefs. No, he'd wait, and corrupt the very world in which they lived. By the time any of the managed to make their way through the web of lies, secrets, and manipulations he'd crafted, the people themselves would turn on their would be saviors. ANd he would be there, savoring their despair.

He had been standing in one of his labs. Every human there was an elite acolyte of his, thus there was no sense in taking human form among them. He walked to his scientists' creation, standing tall, it's casing unfinished. A grin formed on his face as he studied the shape before him.

"A pity for the X-Men that they will be the first to witness my newfound power." Blackheart laughed as he turned away, leaving the half-finished Sentinel behind him.