I wasn't sure what to call this one. It's not part 2, but I got such a wonderful response to the first 'version', that I took it and added a beginning, and made some minor changes to the part already posted. I *have* decided some things to keep it in context-
Lois is much younger than we're used to; she's Christine's age.
Lois's father is not dead, he's just completely not in her life(Christine's father is dead). If anyone has any ideas on how to establish exposition, I'm all ears
.
Obviously I've used parts/dialogue from both the musical and the movie. I found it too difficult to use just one. So, if it sounds like it's from the musical, it is. If it sounds like the movie, it is.
I'm still not sure where Clark is in all this.
Comments, *plllleeeeaaaaasssee*
!!!
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The Phantom of the Planet (again
)
The newsroom was alive with activity; the sound of phones ringing, faxes humming, and keyboards clicking as the staff worked tirelessly on their respective stories. But the main reason for the hightened level of excitement was the event coming up. The Annual Kerth Awards, and one reporter in particular was working feverishly at her desk, writing the speech she would give on that evening. She was the highest ranking journalist at the Planet, had been for several years, writing story after story that captured the public’s admiration, and had many awards to prove it. Everyone aspired to attain her level of writing perfection. Her name was Catalina Grant.
Unfortunately, she was also the most obnoxious, overbearing, egotistical, self-centered reporter there. Through skill, but mostly because of her manner, she had acquired the nickname ‘Prima Donna’, a nickname she reveled in, not knowing(or caring) that it had been given to her facetiously. She was deleting the third version of her speech in frustration when the elevator doors opened and Franklin Stern, the owner of the Daily Planet strode in.
“Excuse me, people, may I have your attention please!” he boomed in his deep voice. Phones were hung up and all eyes went from keyboard to him, effectively halting any work being done. The Editor of the Planet came storming out of his office.
“What’n the Sam Hill’s goin’ on!” he demanded. “This is a newspaper, not a…”
“Forgive me Perry, but this is important,” Mr Stern interrupted. “I have an announcement to make regarding the future of the Daily Planet.” That got even Mr. White’s attention. “As you all know, there have been rumors of my retirement for several weeks now…”
A faint hum spread through the newsroom. There had been rumors circulating, from the top of the food chain to the lowest copy boy.
“I can tell you now that these rumors were true. And I would like to introduce you to the man who now owns the Daily Planet, the world famous philanthropist, Mr. Lex Luthor.” There was general applause from most of the staffers who were honored and flattered to have such a wealthy and distinguished man as their new patron. Only one staffer regarded him with more than just celebrity worship. Lois Lane.
“It’s Lex,” she murmured to herself. Jimmy Olsen, junior photographer, all around gopher, and reporter wannabe, and a good friend to Lois, stood next to her, a puzzled look on his face. She turned to face him slightly. “When I was in college, I interviewed him for a class project,” she began. “But he didn’t take me very seriously. He called me ‘My dear Lois’,” she remembered, rolling her eyes. She had been too young and too in awe of the man at the time to remark about the endearment. Now she looked back on that time and marveled, now he owned the paper!
The man in question stepped forward to address his new employees. He was tall, striking, with dark, curly hair and piercing blue eyes. His suit was obviously tailored, expensive Italian silk, and probably worth more than all the staffers made combined. His shirt was stark white, grey-striped silk tie, and a pink carnation in the lapel. He made quite a picture standing at the railing; looking almost like a king, standing on the balcony of his palace, looking down on his subjects.
“Ladies and gentlemen. I am honored to support all arts and businesses in Metropolis, especially the world-renowned Daily Planet,” he declared with a smile. After more scattered applause, Catalina sauntered up the ramp towards him, eyeing him like a raptor, her hand outstretched.
“Well, uh, Mr. Luthor, let me introduce our top reporter for the last five or so years, Ms. Catalina Grant.”
Lex took her hand, and brushed her knuckles with his lips. “An honor, Ms. Grant,” he said smoothly, though not overly smarmy. He recognized her type; he didn’t really go for the in-your-face kind of woman.
“H-hmmmm,” Catalina purred. “I assure you, Mr. Luthor, the pleasure is all mine.”
Mr. White recognized what was happening, or about to happen, and nipped it in the bud. “Aw, Cat, don’t you have a speech to write?”
“Indeed, I understand the Kerths are coming up soon, one of the highest honors a reporter can achieve. If it’s alright with you, Mr. White, I’d love to hear some of her speech. See if I’m getting my money’s worth,” he chuckled good-naturedly.
“Well,” Mr. White began, “we really don’t have a lot of time, and Cat’s got a lot of work to do…”
“I can’t practice my speech right now!” Catalina interrupted. “My dress hasn’t come back from the tailor’s yet, and,” she continued, her voice becoming shrill, “I HATE MY SHOES!!!”
“Yes, but,” Lex continued cajolingly, “if you would honor me with a private reading, I would be flattered.”
After huffing a bit more, Catalina took a deep breath, as if deciding whether or not he was worth her time. “If Mr. White approves?” she asked condescendingly.
Mr. White threw his hands up in the air. “Great Shades of Elvis! Go ahead’n read for the man. Maybe then we can get back to work!”
Catalina turned and trotted back to her office to retrieve a crumpled up copy of her speech. Everyone started mumbling under their breath about having to hear more of Catalina’s over-glorified copy, because the truth was, although she was the top reporter at the Planet, and had been for several years, she wasn’t that good.
“Mr. Stern, sir, why exactly are you retiring?” Mr. White asked.
“My health,” Mr. Stern replied.
“Uh-huh,” Mr. White commented.
She returned from her office, paper in hand, and stood in the center of the newsroom, directly under a row of track lights, as if she thought she were on a stage! After barking a command of silence at everyone, she began to read. At first it was pretty good, but then before long it became obvious that her speech was more about herself than the field of journalism.
Suddenly, a gust of wind knocked a ladder down that had been left behind by a maintenance worker, narrowly missing the crowing Catalina, who, in her fright, fell flat on her face. Several staffers rushed to help her up, expressing concern and fear for her safety.
“Catalina!”
“Ms. Grant!”
“Are you alright?”
“Are you hurt?”
They all crowded around her, but she brushed them all off with a grand sweeping motion. However, even Mr. White was angered about the lack of safety in the newsroom.
“Who in the Sam Hill left that ladder there?!!” he demanded. While people were murmuring about what had almost just happened to Catalina, Jimmy leaned towards Lois.
“It’s him,” he said softly, so no one would hear. “The Phantom of the Planet!”
Once everyone had calmed down, Lex tried to placate a seething Catalina. “Ms. Grant, these things happen!” he explained, trying to downplay the incident. That only made her angrier.
“For the *past three years* these things have happened!” she raged. “And did you stop them from happening?? No!!! And you,” she spat, pointing a long, manicured nail at Mr. Luthor. “You are as bad as him!” she indicated Mr. Stern. “‘These things happen?’” she mimicked. “Arrgghh! Forget it! Until you stop these things from ‘happening’, this thing,” she jabbed her finger into her chest, “doesn’t happen! Good-bye, I’m out of here. Ciao!!” she threw over her shoulder as she shoved her way through the crowd up to the elevator. Mr. White rolled his eyes at Catalina‘s tantrum, silently asking for help.
“I trust Ms. Grant will return,” Mr. Luthor asked calmly, somewhat amused by the woman’s display.
Mr. White shook his head. “I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.”
“Well, this is wonderful. We have an awards ceremony coming up, and our keynote speaker has walked out in a fit of pique,” he remarked. “Do you have any suggestions? We can’t exactly cancel.”
At that moment a voice spoke up from among the staffers, one whom the newsroom wasn’t used to hearing assert itself.
“Lois Lane can do it, sir,” said Jimmy Olsen.
“Jimmy!” Lois hissed, trying to silence him, but he ignored her, smiling at his idea.
“A city desk reporter?” Mr. Luthor scoffed in disbelief.
“She’s been getting help with her writing from a great teacher,” he continued.
“Who?” Mr. Luthor asked.
Suddenly all eyes were on Lois, who stepped forward slowly. “I don’t know his name, sir,” she replied, blushing. She took a step back, as if trying to blend back in with the rest of the staffers, and shook her head as they all encouraged her to read Catalina’s speech. She did know the speech; she’d been helping Catalina write it. But she’d never had any idea of reading it herself!
“Let her read for you, Mr. Luthor,” Mr. White’s voice rose calmly, but decisively, over the crowd's. “She’s been well taught. She can read that speech; hell, she helped write it!”
Mr. Luthor shrugged slightly. “Alright.” The staffers smiled excitedly and nudged Lois forward again. “If you would, please, just start from the beginning, Ms. Lane.” She stood in the same place as Catalina, under the lights, but they had a different effect on Lois. Shining down on her, they became almost softer, more flattering. Her dark hair shone brilliantly as it brushed her shoulders, her dark eyes sparkled, and her skin glowed like polished ivory. She took a calming breath, and began the speech…
***************************
Her performance as keynote speaker, and as Kerth winner, brought the house down, receiving an ovation that lasted several minutes. When she finally made it offstage, her coworkers had swarmed around her with congratulations and warm wishes and laurels, including Mr. White, who thought of Lois as a daughter. He put his arms around her in a fatherly hug.
“Great Shades of Elvis, honey, you did great!” He then pulled away slightly to look her in the eyes. “He’ll be pleased,” he said conspiratorially, and looked at her new Kerth. Just as quickly, though, he went into ‘gruff Editor mode’ again, scattering the crowd around her. Her own gaze went to the shiny carved glass. Mesmerized by its facets, she drew her finger over her engraved name. Later in the evening, there was another party at the Daily Planet, at which Lois was the toast. After a while, though, most of the staff had finished congratulating her and left for the evening, leaving only a few lingerers. Lois was left alone at the refreshment table.
“Bravo, bravo! Well done…” she heard the Voice say from nowhere, everywhere.
“Lois? Hey, Lois?” another voice said.
This time the Voice also spoke her name, but so softly it was almost a caress.
“Lo-is….”
She smiled as she recognized it. It was her Angel. Just then a hand touched her shoulder. Startled, she turned around to see Jimmy smiling at her.
“Hey! Where have you been hiding? Really, though, you were perfect!” Lois smiled gratefully. “I just wish I knew your secret. Who is it that’s been teaching you?”
Lois’s smile faded. The story of how her Angel came to her was not a very happy one. She turned away from Jimmy for a moment, remembering how, as a child, her father had never been a big part of her life. Her one happy memory of him was him promising to send her an Angel to help with her writing. She turned back to find Jimmy standing there, patiently.
“My father once spoke of an Angel. I used to wish he’d appear. Now though, I can sense him, and I know he’s here!” she told him excitedly, grasping his hand and pulling him down the ramp to her desk. She took off the multi-colored shawl she’d worn to the Kerths, draped it over her chair, and pulled on her white coat. “Right here, in this newsroom, he calls to me, softly.” She craned her head to look around. “Somewhere, inside, hiding.” She looked at him again, her eyes wide. “Somehow, I know he’s always with me. Though I’ve never seen him, he’s a genius!”
“Whoa, Lois, hold on! You must have been dreaming. Those kinds of stories don’t come true, except maybe at the National Whisper. Lois, you’re scaring me; you’re talking in riddles. It’s not like you.” But Lois wasn’t really listening.
“Angel of Words, my guide, our guardian, grant to me your glory…”
“…who is this Angel?” Jimmy wondered out loud as Lois spoke.
“Angel of Words, hide from me no longer, secret and Strange Visitor…”
“Angel of Words, hide from us no longer, secret and Strange Visitor…”
Suddenly, Lois stopped, and stood stock still, having gone very pale.
“He’s with me, right now…” Jimmy grasped her hand; it was like ice!
“Your hands are cold,” he remarked in concern. She lifted her other hand to her heart.
“He’s all around me…”
“Your face, Lois, has gone completely white!” he gasped. She looked at him nervously.
“It really frightens me.”
“Don’t be frightened,” he soothed. She seemed to relax, then…
“Olsen!!!!” Startled himself, Jimmy dropped her hand.
“Sorry, Lois. Gotta go,” he muttered, and took off, leaving Lois at her desk, sitting, staring at her Kerth award. She became so engrossed in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice the newsroom had gone totally quiet, until a voice brought her out of deep thought.
“My darling Lois,” a cultured voice spoke from behind. “Who never lets her mind wander. My darling Lois thought, ‘Am I fonder of dolls, or of villains, or shoes?’” the voice continued in mock contemplation. She turned around and smiled.
“Lex,” she said, identifying the voice’s owner.
“Definitely chocolates,” Lex answered the question.
“Those ‘picnics’ at your penthouse,” she suggested playfully. He’d called them picnics, because they’d eaten finger sandwiches and champagne, but these picnics had been expensive catered parties.
“As I read those stories of yours, those dark stories of the North,” he shuddered, but smiled.
“‘No, what I love best, Lois said, is when I’m asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Words, speaks ideas in my head’,” she finished.
“Your speech tonight, my dear, was inspired,” he gushed.
“When I was growing up, I remember the one thing my father told me, ‘when you’re a famous writer, child, I will pray for you the Angel of Words. Well, my father wasn’t in my life much Lex, but I have been visited by an Angel of Words!” she exclaimed, her face glowing.
“Well, there’s no doubt of that,” Lex replied proudly. “And now,” Lex continued. “We go to supper. I know this wonderful little Italian…” But Lois cut him off immediately.
“No Lex,” she said. “The Angel of Words is very strict.”
“Well, I promise not to keep you out too late,” he replied nonchalantly, turning to leave.
“Lex, no,” she protested anxiously.
“You must change,” he chuckled as if she hadn’t spoken. “I must have my limo pulled around. Two minutes, my darling Lois.” He turned and headed for the elevator, a smug smile on his face. He got into the elevator and hit the button for the ground level, smiling as the doors shut.
“No, Lex, I can’t!” she rose adamantly as the doors shut between them. Suddenly a sense of dread came over her. She couldn’t possibly go to supper with him, but he would be back for her soon. She made her way back to her desk, wondering fearfully what *he* would do if he knew about Lex. Little did she know she was about to find out. Sitting down, she unseeingly faced her keyboard. “Things have changed, Lex,” she lamented. Suddenly a loud angry voice spoke into the darkness of the newsroom, shaking her out of her thoughts.
“What an insolent man, this slave of fashion! Basking in your moment! Ignorant fool, this brash young suitor, sharing in *my* triumph!” he thundered angrily. She looked up, not certain where the voice was coming from, but wanting to answer, and explain she didn’t mean to hurt him.
“Angel, I hear you. Speak, I will listen. Stay beside me, guide me,” she began, measuring her words so as not to anger him further. “Angel, my will was momentarily weak, forgive me. Enter now, please,” she implored. He spoke again, this time his tone was softer, forgiving, just bordering on patronizing.
“You flatter me, now you shall know me,” he replied. “See why in the sky I hide. Look up at the windows, I am here, outside!” he declared. She turned to look up at the large picture windows across the room, and sure enough, there he was, a dark figure cloaked in mystery and shadow, his face just barely visible in the darkness. Finding herself completely drawn to him, she was unable to take her eyes off him as she made her way slowly up the ramp towards him.
“Angel of Words, my guide, our guardian, grant to me your glory(?)! Angel of Words, hide from me no longer. Come to me, Strange Visitor!” she called to him, nearly to the windows. Then he spoke to her again, his voice so deep, so soft, it completely hypnotized her.
“I am your Angel of Words,” he whispered, holding out his hand to her. “Come to me, Angel of Words.” As she drew closer she vaguely heard the ding of the elevator doors, and Lex, demanding to know whose voice was speaking to her.
“I am your Angel of Words…Come to me Angel of Words…” his voice intoned, the power of it seeming to override her own thoughts, slightly alarming her. But his voice and his eyes, what she could see in the darkness, beckoned her. And then she was there. She took his hand, and he lifted her effortlessly through the window, enveloping her in his cape and lifting her into his arms. Suddenly she was soaring, literally and metaphorically, the city lights exploding before her eyes in a dazzle of light. Back in the newsroom, Lex ran down the ramp towards Lois’ empty desk. He scanned the entire newsroom, but she was gone!
“Lois? My darling?” he shouted, panicked.
The city lights twinkled softly beneath them like candlelight as they soared overhead, the wind caressing her hair and blowing his cape behind him. Her gaze drifted from the candlelit city to his face, still partially obscured by the night sky.
‘In sleep he spoke to me, in my dreams he came,’ she thought to herself. ‘That deep voice which called to me, and would speak my name. Am I dreaming again?’ she wondered. ‘Because now I find, the Phantom of the Planet is there, inside my mind!’ His gaze caught hers, his eyes staring deeply into her wide, brown pools. Through her trance-like state, she could’ve sworn he smiled, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, then it was gone. Feeling slightly chilled, from apprehension or the wind, she wasn’t sure, she turned her head to look back towards the Planet building.
‘Fly once again with me, in our strange duet. My powers draw you close to me, and grow stronger yet. And though you turn from me, to glance behind, the Phantom of the Planet is there, inside your mind.’
‘Some who have seen your face, draw back in fear,’ she thought, images of those who had tried to destroy him coming to the fore. It occurred to her that what she wrote about him, lessened the peoples’ fear of him. ‘I am the mask you wear.’
‘To accept me, is what they hear.’ Then suddenly, it was as if their thoughts of each other merged to become one, and they spoke at the same time.
“My spirit and your words, in one combined…”
“Your spirit and my words, in one combined…”
“The Phantom of the Planet is there, inside your mind.”
“The Phantom of the Planet is there, inside my mind.”
The wind itself, as though inspired by their voices, seemed to repeat the refrain.
“He’s there, the Phantom of the Planet.” The wind blew stronger as he flew, the stars shone brighter, taking her further, further into this place that seemed to belong only to them. She could feel her heart beating faster, the barriers between reality and wherever he was taking her becoming blurred. She could see only him, hear only his voice, which had become hers.
“In all your fantasies, you always knew,” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver. “That both the man and the mystery…” he trailed off. She looked right into his eyes, knowing exactly what he meant.
“Were both in you,” she finished. Just then he began to descend.
“And in this labrynth, where the night is blind, the Phantom of the Planet is here, inside my mind.”
“And in this labrynth, where the night is blind, the Phantom of the Planet is there, inside your mind.”
He landed, in a place straight out of a dream; it looked like an giant ice sculpture. Giant columns of ice jutted out of the frozen ground, shooting up diagonally to cross about halfway up. The crystalline surfaces glittered in the light of the…moon? Was there even a moon here? Or was it simply the light of her imagination giving everything its ethereal glow? He set her on her feet, keeping her hands in his as he led her around what she could only describe as a dreamscape, for only in her dreams could she envision something as beautiful as this place.
“Speak, my Angel of Words!” he commanded. Not taking her eyes off him, she spoke.
“He’s there, the Phantom of the Planet!” And then suddenly…Was she singing?? She must have been, because out of her own mouth came this sound, and all around her appeared words, words she’d never seen, words that didn’t exist, words to describe other words, her voice going higher and higher, the Angel of Words, ordering her again and again to speak, his own voice growing more insistent.
“Speak, my Angel of Words! Speak for ME!!!” he finally cried, as her voice went higher than she’d ever heard it. Finally she stopped, exhausted, catching her breath and closing her eyes against the magnificence around her. Behind her, he began to explain adamantly why he’d taken her from the newsroom.
“I have brought you, to the place of words’ sweet throne, to this fortress where all must pay homage to writing. Writing,” he repeated slowly, drawing it out. “You have come here, for one purpose and only one. From the moment I saw you and read your stories, I have needed you with me to write for me and now, my words…” he paused, looking at her, himself hypnotized by her very presence . “My words…” Then his voice became heartbreakingly soft.
to be cont...
