mrlxrd

[mrlxrd]

He, personally, liked the sprawling New England Legion grounds. The gardener has waved politely at him, but Max had paid him no mind, his focus singularly on finding Querl. The reports he had gotten from Cario had been promising, but now he needed information that only a supercomputer from another time could provide. Some would call it improper, a breach of trust, Max saw it as business savvy. Someone would find the artifact eventually, regardless of his meddling or not; it might as well be him. He was the only one who would wield its power correctly, anyway. If the artifact was real, that is. It could very easy end up being a hoax, or worse, an urban legend designed to sell trinkets, but he had seen women lift cars above their heads and shoot plasma beams from their hands so he wasn't going to brush it off as pure fantasy just yet. Especially when his lab readings read the way they did. He didn't know much about nuclear fission or radiation signatures but he was smart enough to know that any time there was a spike in a graph it usually meant good things all around. "Brainiac." he greeted with a nod as the elevator doors skid open with a hiss, his hands clasping behind his back as he walked slowly, deliberately, into the large underground lab. "I've been made aware that you're currently working on a project for Mr.Gand but I have something I hoped you would be more familiar with than the folks back at the main lab."

@brxinixc5​

[mrlxrd]

firstxman​:

Erik was dead. It was the first thought on his mind at any given moment, the one that overshadowed all the rest. He had papers to file and Erik was dead. He needed to pick up dinner and try to get Jean to eat something and Erik was dead. There were calls coming in and messes to clean up and apologies to make and Erik was dead. And the grief was stifling and painful and unfair because Erik was dead because Scott had killed him, and what sort of right did he have to grieve for that? What sort of man killed a person he loved and then mourned them? What did it make him?

There was no time, it seemed, to really consider it. Erik’s death had left a gaping hole in Genosha’s leadership and, according to his will, it was a hole he wanted Scott to fill. The news had come as a slap to the face when they’d found the will in the office, had felt like a gut punch. Scott hadn’t seen it coming, though maybe he should have. It made sense, after all, for Erik to have a plan in place in the event of his death. And he’d trusted Scott. He wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t. So it made sense for him to appoint Scott as the leader, and Scott didn’t know how to say no. He didn’t have it in him to deny Erik this one thing, after everything he’d done. So he took over the office. He filed the papers. He made the phone calls and he offered the apologies and Erik was dead but maybe Scott could make him proud anyways.

He only knew the vaguest details of what Erik had going on with Maxwell Lord. It was one of the many things he’d intentionally closed his eyes to, in the end, one of the many things he’d pretended not to see in order to convince himself that everything was fine. But Lord was calling now, was asking for meetings, and Scott knew he owed it to Erik to take them. He knew he owed it to Erik to try to continue the work he’d been doing, even if it was work Scott was suspicious of.

He welcomed Max into the office, smiled politely at his words. “Thank you,” he said, and it tasted like ash. He didn’t know how to respond to someone offering condolences for a man he’d killed without hating himself. (He wasn’t sure he knew how to do anything without hating himself anymore.) “We’ve lost people before, but this… This one will be harder to navigate.” And that was true. God, that was true. Scott had lost people before, but never like this. Never when he’d been the one to kill them, never the instant he got back every emotion he’d been burying for months, never with Jean sobbing on the floor and Maddie looking shellshocked beside her and Lorna’s fiery anger filling the room with smoke. Never Erik.

Scott nodded, feeling half-present as he had since Erik’s death. He was better now than he had been in the immediate aftermath, when he could barely breathe, but it was still a slow and painful process. Grief always was. “Of course. I’m still trying to sort out everything Erik had in motion, but we did discuss your employees briefly. I’d like to hear more of it from your perspective as well. I like having all the details.” Anyone who knew him could attest to as much.

Max nodded solemnly, his head bowed in a show of faux respect and sympathy. He doubted that he would need to do much to keep up appearances. It was obvious that Scott’s mind was elsewhere, anywhere but here, really, and Max couldn’t blame him. Such a shakeup in leadership would be difficult to navigate even for the most prepared of hierarchies, and even more so when there was grief clouding the path that lay ahead. Max had felt that himself once, when he was just a teen and his father had dropped dead at the dinner table. His mother had cried over his body, Max created a legacy in his memory.

Some were simply better equipped to deal with these things than others, you see. It made Max wonder where the others fell, if Mr.Summers’ blushing bride was as lost in sorrow as her husband was.

He certainly hoped so. Life was much easier for the mice when the cats were staring at the wall and questioning their own mortality.

Max nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he took a seat. The last time he had sat in the office he had been setting up back channels for Genosha’s defense spending, getting Erik in contact with arm’s dealers and slowly but surely gaining trust and favors. This was less exciting, but just as important, if Max could play his cards right.

“There are ten Knights that Erik and I discussed. I wouldn’t have asked at all, trust me, but they are… becoming increasingly difficult to keep out of the public eye. It’s a tragedy, of course, but the simple fact is that when Superman lifts a plane above his head it’s seen as a miracle, but when a woman who bears a striking resemblance to Baphomet does the same she’s hunted and, in these darkening times it’s increasingly more likely that she will be killed. I made a promise to them, Mr.Summers, I’m simply asking in your assistance in keeping them safe. I have already allocated a large sum of money to be allocated for the building and labor costs of a Black Knights base for them to stay on. It wouldn’t be opporational, of course, but it would be useful in creating space for a fully operational LordTech clinic.” 

[mrlxrd]

Robert Pattinson as Neil in TENET (2020).

[mrlxrd]

The only good part about the long and boring U.N. meeting was that no one seemed young enough to know what a cell phone was, much less that he had spent most of the meeting alternating between twitter, updates on project BRNY, and the Monday night game between the Meteors and his beloved National City Sharks.

He had even sent a small paper football flying across the room to alert Supergirl as to the score, which he felt had been very kind of him.

Other than that the meeting had been dull and unproductive in the way that only government bureaucrats could manage. It was truly a blessing sent directly to the United States of America that he was there, otherwise they’d spend another three years arguing the logistics of the naming conventions of their investigatory committee while cities burned to the ground. Granted, it probably also helped that he had offered a substantial amount of money to the committee with the sly suggestion that he lead the investigation himself. The council had agreed, of course, and he had landed not only full control of the investigation but also a loyal, trusting, super lapdog.

God, he loved his life.

He clasped his hands together as he stepped off his jet, the winds of star city blowing his usually perfectly slicked hair into a wild flurry of bronze locks. “Supergirl!” He grinned, “I’m sure you’re with me when I say this isn’t exactly how I pictured my return to the West Coast but I must say that I’m glad that you agreed to come and help out. My team has been here for a few weeks already, clean up and the like, but now we can really get into the nitty-gritty of this thing. You have my full cooperation and any resources you need I will get.”

@maidenxfmight​

[mrlxrd]

supersxn​:

***

Jon had been trying to keep a lower profile. Well, as low of one as you could have while flying around in bright blue and red colors in the sky. There was that fear living permanently in him as he saw the mounting posters of anti alien sentiments, the rallies, the YouTube videos. Thanksgiving dinner at Ma and Pa’s had been good, great even, his dad shouting eagerly over the football game. That was until the channel was turned to the news and he watched the reports of Agent Liberty. His stomach churned, all the air out of the house being zapped in an instance. 

Pa was quick to grab the remote and change the channel, Jon going entirely too quiet as he barely heard Pa going on about how ridiculous it all was for people to be stuck in that sort of mindset. Not even his mom’s hand resting on his back to guide him back into the kitchen could pull him from his spiral of thoughts. 

Tired of pretending I don’t care that this world doesn’t–

No. Stop it.

Eyes squeezed shut, Jon let out a harsh breath and shook his head. Startled out of his thoughts at his hearing zoning in on a shout of his name. He shook off the dark cloud that seemed permanently attached to him these days and shot off of the top of the building towards the shout of his name. Someone actually wanted his help. 

Though, it wasn’t exactly who he had expected. Hovering in the air in front of the balcony, Jon blinked in surprise and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Mr. Lord, what can I do for you?” He asked as casually as he could manage. “Is everything alright..?” Peering behind him, Jon tried to gauge whether or not there was an immediate threat that needed to be taken care of.

He grinned as he saw a blur of red and blue slow as it approached his balcony, what was once a streak across the sky turning into a boy in an instant. Though it was hardly fair to call Superboy a boy with as big as he was, though Max figured that was simply a byproduct of being the son of the strongest man in the world, and if his feats were to be believed, most of the known universe. His eyes were wide and kind though, a stark contrast to the wall of muscle he seemed to be at first glance. Max had had his fair share of run ins with Supergirl in national city and had even ran into the other, more elusive Superboy on occasion and they both had the same set to their jaw and strength behind their steps that bordered on cocky but this Superboy seemed more like his father in how small he seemed to try and be. 

Sad, really. To feel so uncomfortable with how large your presence loomed. If Max didn’t already have plans for the boy he would have made a good protégé. 

He clapped his hands in front of him, his head tilting as his smile softened into something Max knew had been labeled everything from agreeable and disarming to magnetic and warm. “I don’t know how up to date you keep with politics but I’m sure you’ve heard of these so called Sons of Liberty.” He rolled his eyes with a scoff. “they’re a menace and they’ve decided that my clinics are a bit too inclusive to be allowed to exist. They can’t see anything outside their bigotry and while I would usually love to see what kind of community outreach LordTech could do to combat them in a more civilized manner I’m afraid that the attacks will get worse before any of that could be viable.” 

He sighed, opening the door to his office and gesturing for Superboy to follow him inside. “This is classified information but you’re Superboy, and I’m sure you wouldn’t betray my trust, right?” He asked softly, “Look, the U.N. has taken notice, especially after the tragedy in Star City and they’re calling together the security council. I need you to keep a keen eye on the clinics for me while I’m gone. They must be planning something and with my being gone, well, I fear they’ll take that as an opening to do something drastic.” 

[mrlxrd]

bloodrobin​:

( text → maxwell lord ): Pompous. That was the word I was looking for. ( text → maxwell lord ): Why do you act as though I’m leading the witness here? We’ve both done our fair share of things intolerable by the government. ( text → maxwell lord ): You’ve just as much dirt on me as I do of you, surely. ( text → maxwell lord ): I’m looking into the business. Not necessarily for personal use - though it’s arguable - but more of a back up plan in case something were to go south. ( text → maxwell lord ): Am I making any sense to you?

( text → Damian Wayne): Ah, yes. Very astute, Mr.Wayne. I’ve gotten that one a few times as well. 

( text → Damian Wayne): Because I’m not an idiot. 

( text → Damian Wayne): Where you stand with the United States government is of less concern to my bottom line than where I do. 

( text → Damian Wayne): Somehow I don’t think you would concern yourself with telling me any of this if you didn’t believe I had something you needed, Damian, so what is it exactly? 

( text → Damian Wayne): If you wanted to simply clone yourself I have no doubts you would have already done so. 

[mrlxrd]

So Erik had gone and died. Max couldn’t pretend that the news hadn’t shocked him, he was sure that Erik had been in better shape than the news was making it out as. He had seemed completely in control, and not the fake veneer of control that so many he knew thought they had mastered, no, this was true control. The kind that only came from true power.

Although, how much good did power really do you when faced with the reaper?

Max had hoped for more. A war, preferably, with his knights playing both sides and his pockets continuing to grow ever deeper while the mindless hoards of following sheep baa-ed their way to the slaughter, but this was fine. Maxwell wasn’t blind, after all, and Erik didn’t trust him one bit, though a man like that probably didn’t trust much of anyone.

Should’ve trusted a doctor. Maybe then he wouldn’t have gone out like he did.

Strange, that on a island of people with unimaginable power, no one would be able to prevent his death. Weird thing, that. So human, for a man who thought himself more. 

Regardless, his Black knights had sent word that they had settled quite nicely in their new tower on Genosha. A project that Maxwell so graciously funded with a simple shrug and a wink that suggested that the funds not used in construction be spent bolstering the fledgling country’s economy. They were settling, already going about their business as intended, slipping in and out of Erik’s former office and erasing every trace of Lord’s weapons deals from existence.

Now it was time for Max to meet the man who the entire island seemed to be looking toward for guidance, and, as he spotted Mr.Summers, Max had to admit that he was rather impressive. Not any more-so than Erik, but he held a certain inherent nobility that the other man had simply lacked.

“Mr.Summers,” He greeted warmly, “I’m sorry for your loss, I understand that Mr.Lehnsherr meant a great deal to everyone on Genosha but particularly to you and your wife. It’s not the same but, well, when my father died I was a mess for months,” he lied, “It does get easier, and keeping busy is always helpful, as I’m sure you’ve realized.”

He smiled softly, shaking his head before refocusing his attention. 

“I do appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. Erik was so gracious as to harbor my employees, the likes of which I’m sure you’ve been made aware of. It was an endeavor that opened the door to great risk to him and he didn’t have to do that.”

@firstxman​

[mrlxrd]

Robert Pattinson as Neil in ‘Tenet’

[mrlxrd]

I love this world... but something has happened... there has been a change. It seems like I’m the only one who can see that humanity is broken. And the people with the powers to fix it don’t know how.

[mrlxrd]

Lord was nothing if not bold. He had been told that he walked like he had a spotlight on him, the pep in his step bordering on dancing and his smile genuine and sparkling. He knew what people thought of him, or rather, he knew what normal people thought of him. The general public and the representatives who claimed to serve them. Consumers trusted him, but people like Natasha, well, they were not consumers, and they were far from the general public. 

He didn’t know much about her; his research had come up surprisingly sparse for how omnipresent she seemed to be every time the world flirted with destruction. He figured what any intelligent person would at that; she was important and absolutely not to be trifled with. 

At least, not right away. This wouldn’t be a cat and mouse game, lest he unwittingly become the mouse. It was too soon to be testing his luck, his place in New York too delicate. 

“Money is nothing but a means to an end, Ms.Romanoff. Anyone who holds it in any higher regard than that is a fool and probably using it incorrectly.” He laughed softly, his head dipping as he stood from behind his desk and occupied his hands with buttoning up his jacket. “No, I have something for you specifically. I would give it to Tony but, well, I’ve gathered that you’re the more fitting choice, all things considered.” 

He brushed past her to lift a hidden panel and type in a code, grinning back at her when the wall opened into a lux elevator. “If you’ll join me? We’ll need to go down to R&D for this.” 

‘ i’m about to change your life. ‘ // @mrlxrd​

Natasha’s life had been changed a grand total of three times. The first when she was taken in by the Red Room and trained to be nothing more than a weapon. She was their most successful weapon, but they hadn’t necessarily changed her life for the better. The second was when Clint Barton offered her the chance to change her life. The final was when she began working with the Avengers. When the Avengers became more than just a job, but more akin to her family. Change wasn’t something that Natasha took lightly. 

“Doubt it,” Natasha deadpanned, her expression neutral as she crossed her arms over her chest. She was curious; she couldn’t deny that fact. However, she knew better than to play her cards early. “It takes more than money to impress me.” 

[mrlxrd]

( text → Damian Wayne): I’ve gotten that more than a few times, yes. I think it’s rather fitting, personally. 

( text → Damian Wayne): Cloning? Well, completely between us? More than the U.S. government would probably be comfortable with. 

( text → Damian Wayne): Lex Luthor was overconfident and it led to him becoming sloppy, especially toward the end there. The files of his trials were easy to obtain, but it seemed like he was funneling money out of the program before they made much progress. 

( text → Damian Wayne): I always had my doubts about that, but I left the company not too long afterward. 

( text → Damian Wayne): Why? 

text + @mrlxrd

( text → maxwell lord ): Has anyone ever told you that your name is pretentious? ( text → maxwell lord ): I know there’s no way I’m the first, but I feel the need to tell you anyway. ( text → maxwell lord ): How much do you know about cloning?

[mrlxrd]

(✉ → Mr.Stark):  If you drop in you’d actually be doing me a favor so please, make yourself at home. The security system will activate but your ID should disable it.

(✉ → Mr.Stark): You’ll have to give me a few minutes to make my great escape from this board meeting though. Shouldn’t be more than ten. 

🕰️ an early morning text || for @mrlxrd

(✉ → what a name): is it too early for a meeting, or do i appear eager, mature and experienced asking us to talk business at 8 in the morning? (✉ → what a name): because if it’s the former, great. if it’s the latter, i can drop on your balcony in five. no pressure

[mrlxrd]

(✉️ ➡️ Danny): You know usually the men I know buy their girlfriends diamonds for Christmas...

(✉️ ➡️ Danny): But with how exuberant you are I’m actually filled with confidence that she will absolutely adore it.

(✉️ ➡️ Danny): though I must admit I suspect that would have more to do with the giver than the gift in particular.

🌳 a happy text. (Max) // @mrlxrd

(✉️ ➡️ Max L.): I just found the perfect thing to get my girlfriend for Christmas! (✉️ ➡️ Max L.): It’s a sweater with a shrimp on it! (✉️ ➡️ Max L.): She’s gonna love it!

[mrlxrd]

@ofcanaryandqueen​

Now it seemed like he couldn't walk down any street in New York without seeing his name, which, to Max, meant that all was as it should be. His clinics were slowly but surely opening up throughout New York. One in each of the boroughs, another in New Jersey, and though it wasn’t public knowledge yet, he was sure that one would be popping up in Genosha as well and that meant that the clinics would officially be international, and that, well, that had a very good ring to it in his humble opinion. 

But, given that his clinics were only but one of his projects making waves, he figured that taking time away from their operations and going back to his basics was in order and so he had made his way back to LordTech East, down one elevator and into another to be shuttled ever further under the earth and into the sprawling labyrinth of labs and, his piece de resistance, the command system that controlled each and every part of his security programs. The surveillance was sprawling and in high definition, the motion sensors in every building outfitted with his system left undisturbed at the moment. It warmed his heart to see New York like this, knowing that the same was happening across the plains in National City as well and that soon, it wouldn’t just be two cities and a handful of federal buildings, no, soon it would be every public building in America, every private business with a hint of business savvy, every suburban home in the country. He was already receiving order requests from gated communities from Albany to Roseville to outfit them with his Warden security system and all the perks that would entail. 

Life was good, and it would only get better. 

“Olivia Queen, yes?” He asked, his eyebrow rising as he considered the young woman. He had been told that she had a particularly useful set of skills and with a last name like that... Maxwell wasn’t an idiot. Why she wasn’t working with Oliver Queen was beyond him, family hostilities maybe. Perhaps she was a cousin on the outskirts or a younger sister who didn’t fit in. It didn’t matter to Lord outside of what it could do for him, and in turn, his company. 

“How are you enjoying the new job, I’m aware that everything has really aped up lately, how are you holding up?” 

[mrlxrd]

Robert Pattinson|Spring/Summer 2021 Dior men’s collection

[mrlxrd]

The Sons of Liberty were idiots, that much could be gathered within a few minutes of meeting their so called leader. Ben was a  vacuous cunt, in Max’s opinion, though more could hardly be expected of a useful idiot. Even one who thought himself the voice of a generation as Ben did. 

Max would feed him money and men and with them Ben would create chaos and through that chaos Max would offer safety and much needed order. A perfect plan, even when it lead to hoards of men, blinded by fear and driven by rage, to boycott his company, as if any of them had the financial security to purchase one of his security systems as it were. Regardless of the ineffectiveness of their boycott the picketing was getting grating and, after an unfortunate incident at a clinic opening in Jersey that ended with a man spitting directly in Max’s face, he had had enough. 

Yes, he would fund the complete fucking morons and fill their ranks with those much more competent than any of the homegrown militias could ever hope to be while shaking hands and kissing the weird, scaly heads of alien babies, but that didn’t mean he needed to be utterly disrespected whilst doing it.

He stepped onto his balcony, his hands cupping his mouth, though, in the aftermath he would laugh at how useless that probably was. 

“Superboy!” he called, “I’d like to have a word if you’ve got the time!” 

@supersxn​

[mrlxrd]

masterofmagnetism​:

//

Erik had lived long enough, in his ninety years, to see countries rise and fall. Compared to them, Genosha was moving at light speed. The nation had been raised from the seabed just shy of two months ago, and yet already buildings were beginning to rise high enough to see from the New York City coastline. The ferry ran 16 hours a day, and Azazel had started what he seemed to think was a secret side-job of teleporting people back and forth.   Erik should do something about that, probably. But he knew Azazel shared his distaste for humanity in general and could be relied on to make good calls. Or at the very least, not disastrous ones. If the man wanted to smuggle things across national borders (artificial, irrelevant, it could all be ours if you just–), Erik wasn’t going to stop him.  

There were much bigger concerns pressing on Erik’s mind; ones he hadn’t shared with his council despite the trappings of cooperation and joint decision making he’d put into place.  

Erik had gotten them this far. He had the right to make whatever decisions he deemed necessary. When he was proven right, they would understand, as they had before. The cycle continues, nothing is ever new. Which was why he was welcoming Maxwell Lord, the arms dealer with a super on a proverbial leash, onto his island. The man was a fine example of everything wrong with humanity: arrogant, ingenuine, and hungry for money and power no matter the cost to others. But business partners didn’t need to be liked.  Only trusted to follow through. Erik held no particular fondness for Emma, but he knew her values, her moral lines, and so he had no qualms leaving her in charge of the Hellfire Club while he tended to political matters. Maxwell Lord liked money, liked influence, and Erik could provide both in exchange for a few items the human specialized in procuring.  

Nothing is ever new, and humans were better at nothing than accelerating their own self-destruction.

He stood with his hands folded behind him as the helicopter lowered toward the helipad that had been set up just the day before and settled without a problem.  Lord was ducking out of the helicopter long before the blades stopped whirring, another two humans tailing behind him like puppies.  Erik smiled diplomatically, and restrained the urge to roll his eyes.  He was unaccompanied, himself–he needed neither the protection nor the distraction of having someone else over his shoulder as he negotiated. Scott would be informed later.  

Probably.

“No, they could not,” Erik agreed as Lord crossed the distance between them.  “I’ve been delighted by the progress, myself.” He extended a hand, shaking firmly.  I appreciate your making the trip, Mr. Lord.” It was no great trouble, of course–the man was a millionaire with a private helicopter, after all. But it was a concession, and a chess player like Lord would’ve seen the import of setting the location.  

It started Erik with an upper hand. Yet the man had agreed with no argument, which meant that he was no doubt expecting to get something of value himself from visiting the island. Information about it he couldn’t get from the air. Bringing two others with him, unannounced, served as a power play of its own, a quietly diplomatic retaliation to his own.  

Oh, yes. Lord would be fun, if nothing else.

“I thought we might enjoy the balcony outside my office, if you don’t mind a meeting in the sun,” he said, gesturing toward the administration building with a wave of his hand.  The balcony was just visible, poking out from around the corner of the building.  “Your friends, of course, are welcome to join us.”  

The man was obviously in his element, dangerous and calm, though it mattered little to Max. Erik wanted something, something only Max could offer if the invitation sent directly to his office was any indication and the CEO was more than willing to comply. To have friends in high places was one thing, but friends in low places? Well, that was far more valuable. 

He glanced around, the tips of buildings that should have taken months, years even, to build were already steadily in place and while the country was only a few months old it seemed to have the hustle and bustle of a new world port. Max stared in wonder, his thoughts racing with adrenalin. This, yes, this, must have been how Columbus felt hitting dry land, how Cortes had laughed when faced with the possibility of a city of gold. 

Though, whether the gold on Genosha was physical or simply metaphorical would be for time to decipher. 

"It was no trouble at all," he assured, "I was pleasantly surprised when I received your invitation but I couldn't pass up the opportunity." 

He studied the man closely, his eyes narrowing for a brief moment before widening as he smiled brightly. Straight to business then, not that Max minded, he had suffered through enough pleasantries already. Now their meeting would become nothing more than a game to him, extracting as much as possible while giving as little as he could. A familiar game but a game nonetheless, and one with a worthy adversary, though Max could feel deep in his chest that they would both be of use to each other. 

As it should be, if he were to become useless he would be better off dead and if Genosha were to become useless, well, Max wasn't sure that was possible. 

"Of course, the weather is remarkable here. It's hard to believe we're so close to New York." 

He turned to his men, rolling his eyes when they snapped to attention and sending them off to mingle. He had a feeling it would be beneficial to know the lay of the land by the time their meeting was finished, perhaps even begin making preparations for construction. 

"I don't think that'll be necessary," he drawled, "they'd be more than happy to take in the sights while we talk shop."