[ Work harder on the propaganda, they said. More Metas were arriving, we need you to pump out more spin pieces, they said. And Dorian bit his lip and bit back a barb that he wasn't the person behind the camera, he didn't know how to do this shit because he knew that the moment he struck out, that portrait shaped noose around his neck would grow even tighter.

So, here he was: on the streets of the City, camera in hand, trying to find the perfect sort of blindly loyal sap to spout off a few platitudes about the graciousness of the government or what have you. And then, he spotted Elsa. She didn't look like the sort to fall along and blindly parrot whatever the feds wanted. But she was beautiful. Intensely so. And, if he was going to try and get a soundbite from all these boring people, the least he could do was find a pretty face to film as he did so.

Dorian walks over towards Elsa, grin on his face as he approaches. He's wearing a suit, crisp and perfectly tailored, with a government name badge hanging off of one lapel and an expensive video camera in one hand. ]

Pardon me, [ he says with a winning smile. ] My name's Dorian Gray--perhaps you've seen me on the posters? I'm a content producer for the Bureau of Metahuman Affairs. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time and ask a few questions.