First Annual Multitude Membership Drive/Convention
(Submitted by John Landy):
HOTEL
PREMISE: The Multitude recruited new members through referrals, investigating stories that seem likely to have superhuman involvement, and through a section of their website that read like fan fiction but was actually an online support group for superhumans. Now that they are public, they fully intend to recruit those superhumans who would bring their own unique perspective and powers to the team. After The Multitude became public knowledge with the newscast and inevitable press conference, heroes begin to arrive in San Francisco in droves looking for a place on the roster.
In a hotel room sits The Conglomeration and Menagerie. Menagerie is on the phone, discussing last minute details about the convention.
"What's that? Well, if you have to get ahold of me, I'll have my Nextel on." Pause. "No, no vendors! The booths are already booked out for serious team-seeking purposes, just turn them away at the door." Pause. "I don't care if they hitchhiked all the way from Pasadena with original storyboards, this is a serious occasion!" Conglomeration perks up, "Stan Sakai?" Menagerie returns a scrunched face, then speaks again, "No, please. If there are any more disasters, I'll be downstairs. Thank you." And hangs up, blowing a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "Such a groundbreaking moment of history, nothing like this has ever been documented." Conglomeration gets up, grinning lightly as he heads for the door. View from the hallway, door opens, Menagerie's voice fluttering out as the two exit, Jackson bounding out the door at the scent of limited freedom. "Most of the hundreds of Gifted individuals who have come out of hiding should be downstairs, right now. In the open. For the first time. And the Manager calls me about a double-parked Pizza truck?"
Leaving a hotel room, locking the door. The two head down the hall towards the elevators. Once reaching the elevators, where a failthful labrador retriever waits with his tail thumping on cheesy carpet: Menagerie tugs into her pouch, pulls out two stickers. She peels the backing off one, patting it upon Conglomeration's left breast, reading "HELLO - My Name Is: (scrawled) Conglomeration" One for you" then on her own chest, likewise. Conglomeration's head remains tilted down curiously at his label until he hears Prophepsi's swishing footsteps coming towards the two in the hallway. Menagerie looks over to the newcomer, smiling. "Hi, Proph." Prophepsi nods with an unimposing grace, "Greetings, friends. A pleasant surprise." Conglomeration, his usual cat-who-ate-the-parakeet grin, "How's the turnout look?" A moment of obvious consideration, a flash of yellow light appears around her eyes as she looks at beginnings of a crown gathering on the convention floor, and Prophepsi opens her eyes. She blinks once - then turns around slowly, heading back to her room as she calls back There should be a few thousand people in the next two hours - order more soft drinks." Conglomeration's smile brightens, while Menagerie gets a worried look, a slight mmrm coming from her throat. The elevator doors open (cue Tom Jones Muzak), and they enter, Conglomeration is still grinning like mad.
View pans out to the lobby of the Hotel, then to a seat, where Blunt is sitting next to Honesty, talking at her. She's trying to stand up, but can't seem to get an exit line from Blunt. Honesty's hair keeps standing on end and returning back to normal as Blunt hits a variety of topics. The elevator chimes it's little ding. View zooms in to Blunt talking. "I'm starting a side faction of the Republican party." (hair on end) "No, really. Republicans For Legalization" (hair on end) "Politics are where it's at, don't you know." (hair on end). Conglomeration yowlps out, "Blunt!" "Yeeees?" "Think you can leave Honesty alone for long enough to get on with this?" Blunt nods, "Right-o." And bows his head graciously to a hair-tussled Honesty, "If you would please excuse me, it seems I have other appointments to attend to." And gets up, heading towards Conglomeration. He turns momentarily, smiling pleasantly. "Love what you do with your hair." (hair on end)
View from behind Conglomeration, Menagerie, and Blunt as they head towards the doors to the convention hall. Camera follows as they talk, Menagerie rattling off at her Nextel: "Download, why don't you come over here." There is static in the air, flurry of light and color, a startled shriek from Menagerie, and Download is tugging his leg out of Menagerie's phone. Blunt yawns, finger twirling in the air. "Didn't see that coming." Menagerie huffs, shaking a finger at Download. "You know precisely- what I meant!" Download drops his head a bit, a sheepish grin across his features. Menagerie continues down the hall, mumbling as the others follow at a safe distance. She gets to the main doors to the convention hall, the slow noise of a crowd behind the doors growing. She stops, looks at the others, beams. "Looks like we have our turnout." And opens the doors.
The view zooms from behind the group straight through them to frame the convention hall. People. Everywhere. Five young children in Pikachu suits are running around in circles with parents attempting to collect them. Everywhere else there are people in half-baked super-suits, some even attempting to mimic Multitude members. A band of Trekkies is in one corner, cruising around with Spock ears, while another corner holds a group of Vampire-looking people, books strewn across the floor, rolling dice and playing Warhammer. Booths are set up with Multitude T-shirts, $15, any character you like. In random areas of the hall, members of the team are either ducking oncoming child traffic, or getting crawled on by rugrats with "help me!" looks carved into their faces. Doubletime is staring about at people dressed like her, two of the imitations walking around veeeery slooowly, one power-jogging through the aisle. A geeky reporter in a Cagney-esque Private Dick outfit trundles up to Menagerie, pad and paper in hand. He begins scribbling, "So, sister - you're supposed to be the animal lady, right?. You've got your secrets, and John Q. Public wants to know...." Who does those FX of yours? ILM?...