open } if you're looking for that nice girl from the day before

[choosetruth]

Who: Georgia Mason, the crew of After the End Times, and YOU
Where: Republican National Convention
When: the year 2040. But also all through the event.
Rating: idk PG-13, will update if it gets higher.
Summary: Georgia Mason, head of After the End Times and well-known Newsie, is here at the Republican National Convention ready to make some NEWS.
The Story:

The Republican National Convention is a fucking madhouse, but Georgia's used to that. Weeks in on the campaign trail, she's working harder than ever and driving herself to near death trying to run a site and write and cover everything that happens during the election. She's got plenty of betas and interns, of course, and they help, but she still pushes herself to cover as much of everything as she can.

She's here, a vision of journalistic integrity in black and white, sunglasses firmly planted on her face and press pass clipped to her blazer. If she sees a politician or someone else that looks even mildly interesting, she's likely to approach, recorder in hand.

"Excuse me? Georgia Mason, After the End Times. Do you have time for a few words?"

[Come get interviewed, or reply one of the starters below! If none of them work poke me at antivillain and I can set something up.]

Comments

[choosetruth]

And who's doing the chatter?

[She doubts he'll give her names, though it'd be nice to get those, but at least she can maybe get a sense of how reliable this chatter is.]

[postictal]

[She's right - he has no idea how to even begin to pin down names in the thick of the entire damn crowd. He rakes his hand through his hair, leaving it in slightly more of a state of dishevelment than it was before.]

People who don't have anything better to do? Felt more like it was coming from the staff than it did anyone "important."

[Note the scare quotes. Huge scare quotes.]

[choosetruth]

So you don't think there's anything to it.

[Just people being scared and blowing things out of proportion. But there's usually at least something interesting at the root of it all if you're willing to dig.]

[postictal]

No. I don't.

[If she wants to hear him say it outright, fine. That won't change that he's pretty sure it's just your run of the mill pre-convention nerves.]

Nothing different than what we'd hear any other day.

[choosetruth]

[She sighs, and even with her eyes hidden, it's clear she's rolling them.]

So you've given me nothing.

[postictal]

That's not my fault. [Hey, come on. He's just the messenger.]

Isn't it for the best that there's nothing?

[choosetruth]

It would be, if I actually thought it were possible.

[Bad things happening are good for ratings, but she certainly doesn't hope for them to happen. She doesn't have to. The world's always close enough to disaster that the stories roll in without her hoping for anything.]

[postictal]

We're not always all about to die, you know. Much as the world might want you to believe otherwise.

[choosetruth]

[She tugs her sunglasses down to shoot him a glare with her dark, black, virus-ridden eyes.]

Maybe you haven't been following the news, but someone tried to murder me on the way here. Someone succeeded in murdering Buffy Meissonier. Forgive me if I'm feeling a mite paranoid lately.

[postictal]

Paranoid is fine. [It doesn't sound very fine, based on his huff of exasperation, but she'll have to take his word for it.] People these days are nothing but paranoid, and they should be.

But let's wait and see if there's reason to be paranoid first. Yeah?

[choosetruth]

Again, pretty sure "someone tried to murder me" qualifies as reason to be paranoid.

[postictal]

Then I'll tell you if I hear anyone talking about murdering anybody. Fair?

[That doesn't even really count as an information leak, he's pretty sure. It counts as reasonable suspicion.]

[choosetruth]

[She rolls her eyes, projecting the motion into her head and neck.]

You're no fucking help.

[And he clearly knows nothing, so she turns to march off without giving him an actual goodbye.]