[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

"It is the natural state of information to be free."

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

A young man stood up and walked over to one of the microphones. His stance was one of someone who was used to hiding in the crowd instead of being in the spotlight. His voice was quiet and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could actually be heard through the microphone. "You keep talking about a-accountability and s-serving our communities. W-What if we have n-no desire to use our abilities for the g-greater good. What if we just want to be left alone to live our lives?

Orse regarded the young man carefully, a deep frown on his lips. “Then I am deeply saddened by such a decision,” he said in a low voice. “But this Panel cannot force anyone to serve the community. We can only try to prevent such individuals from causing harm through their abilities. We have never taken issue with those who are gifted, but control their powers and cause no harm. Rather, this Panel and the Stirke Force speak to two types of superpowered people: those who seek to serve the community, and those who seek to harm it. To those who wish to continue the noble goal of protecting the innocent will be welcomed and trained, given all the benefits we can offer. We encourage you to stand with us, not against us, for our goals are the same. Those who wish to cause harm and destruction will be dealt with, by any means necessary.” He turned back now to the young man. “But now I speak to you, young man, or to any person who merely wishes to exist in peace. If you seek peace, it will be granted to you. But I also assure you that you will always have a place among this Panel and its registered heroes. Should you ever feel the call to serve, we will assist you in becoming all that you can be. But if you wish to be left alone, then we merely encourage you to find purpose some other way. Blind persecution was never our intention, though perhaps it has been skewed that way through the grapevine. We merely wish to help those who wish to help. Regardless of the path towards peace you choose, you have our support and gratitude. Thank you.”

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

(Pamela/Ivy)

This night was supposed to be about amusement. Information. Not on the Panel or the Accords, but on who exactly was in town and would actually be looking for her. She watched as heroes and humans alike stood to ask questions, but she never expected the to hear some obviously well worded lies that were given as an answer. Ones that the general public might not see through, but for ones like her it was apparent. Especially when it came to the “provided accommodations” for gifted children and the idea that the panel would turn them into “assets”. But Pamela was no fool. She glanced around at the fear and fury in the faces around her, and it suddenly occurred to her how remarkably special each of these people are. The ones that had no control of what they would become. That were born different, special. They are precious, full of remarkable potential… much like the environment that she would die to protect. She found herself standing and taking a microphone from one of the volunteers.

“My dear Mr. Orse, good evening. I must admit, I have spent many years working against some of those that people call heroes. Some of which are in this room and I’m sure are very unhappy that I am here. But there’s one other thing that I am sure of: that right now, they dislike you far more than me.” Her smirk was mischievous. “I had no intention of asking a question or voicing any kind of opinion tonight. I’m a scientist. My cares lie with the environment. The planet…not politics. I had no care of the Accords, or this Panel. You have used two words more than any other tonight. Asset and control. You have claimed that accommodation will be provided to gifted children until they mature, in which they will receive education and training.” The tone of her voice changed from light to hard and cold. “…anyone that has been imprisoned, like myself, knows that is just a glamorous explanation for nothing more than a prison. A prison that will shape them into the weapons you fear them becoming. These children, these people deal with discrimination every day because of people like you that label them as weapons. You have a problem, Mr. Orse. You are blind. You have no idea what it’s like to be persecuted. To be ignored. To be invisible. To be thought of as less than human and undeserving of life. You don’t care about the safety of these people, only the safety of yourself. You have some audacity blaming us for the death of the lovely Ms. Walker. Because if it wasn’t for you and this witch hunt I’m confident they would have been able to focus all their time on the Syndicate. I think I speak for this room when I say that Ms. Walker’s blood is on your hands. Not ours. You’re in our world now, Mr. Orse, and I wish you the best of luck.” Pamela smiled maliciously. “You’re going to need it.”

Orse regarded this woman carefully. She seemed familiar, though he could not place her. Perhaps another one of the Panel members would be able to make the connection clear later. For now, he simply smiled that tight-lipped smile. “My dear, I think you’ll find that I used the words community and safety far more,” he said, retrieving a few scattered chuckles from the crowd. “Because that is far more important to this Panel, and to me personally. And it seems that is not the only example of you mishearing my words,” he said in a low voice. “I never spoke of prisons. Allow me to illuminate on our intentions for the gifted children of which you speak. Many of them are afraid, as you’ve said. They face discrimination and prejudice, for things outside of their control. Where does this prejudice come from? From ignorance. From the belief that these children cannot learn to control their abilities, and thus present a risk. Let me be clear on one thing, Miss. These children are not the problem the Panel seeks to correct. We have not imprisoned any children, nor do we plan to. We take far more issue with the adults of the unregistered community, those who willfully and without consequence, cause destruction in their wake. We take pity on those who cause this destruction without intention, and who wish to make amends and take steps to ensure that the cycle of pain and loss does not continue.That is why we have extended opportunities for people such as Ms. Moon, a woman possessed by a power she seeks to control, opportunities to learn more about her abilities and the best way to control them. This opportunity is open to any and all powered individuals who wish to pursue it. Regardless of age. Children should be granted the most opportunities, should they not? A mutant child who cannot control their powers, should not have to carry the fear that they may one day hurt someone. We seek to alleviate that fear, to give these children the tools that will allow them to live as normal a life as possible, to fulfill their potential, whether that is through nullification of their abilities or through a process to regiment them. The choice rests with them, and their legal guardians. We at the Panel are merely offering a service, an opportunity that did not exist before. We do not want these children to be shunned by society, we wish to offer them a place in it, a chance to belong and better the community however they are able. Would you rather we abandoned them? Left them to deal with these abilities, abilities beyond the understanding of most adults, on their own? Children should be guided and nurtured, and if that sounds like prison to you... I truly pity you.”

He straightened up now, his spine stiff and ramrod-straight. “Perhaps you have also misheard me when I have defended superpowered individuals tonight. When others have come forward saying ‘monsterrs’ or ‘freaks,’ I have responded that these people are not to be feared. Rather, they are to be understood. Others have labeled them a danger, but this Panel has always considered them to be, as you said, an asset. We consider all members of society to be an asset, all those who seek to serve and provide for their fellows, all of these people gathered here -- they have such potential. If I am disliked for seeing the possibilities of that potential, it is a cross I am willing to bear. As for Ms. Walker...” 

He trailed off, once more scanning the room for a certain dark-haired woman. “This Panel has not denied the part we played in her death. But it is not the part you have defined. We did not do enough to protect her, did not push for the security which may have saved her life. But we did not pull the focus of these vigilantes and heroes away from the Syndicate. To the best of our knowledge, the unregistered community was not even aware of their existence. If there was a lack of focus, it is a symptom of the unregulated and uncoordinated way in which those  people have always operated. That blame does not lie with us. And as I said, were our resources stronger, perhaps our own investigations would’ve been far more fruitful. Perhaps Ms. Walker would not have died if we had all stood together.”

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

A couple of things had been nagging in the back of Nathan’s mind since the very beginning of this whole debacle.  The first, and probably the greatest worry, was that everyone there was now being recorded.  With all of the guards surrounding the room providing “security” plus the news reporters there were an endless number of cameras both video and still taking in the image of every person here.  It was what he would have done had this been his event.  The second was something that the man had mentioned earlier.  Shifting next to one of the microphones Nathan cleared his throat.

“So you mentioned something earlier that caught my attention.  Same-sex marriage, gay rights, women’s rights, civil rights.  All of these things happened without the recipients of those rights being added to some government watch list.  Oh, and your disguised attempt at getting all of the unregistered in one place so you can get video and pictures of them… it’s not that well disguised.”

“Back again, I see,” Orse said in a low voice. He arched a brow at the man, then simply shook his head very slowly. “I think we can agree that there are several striking differences between those movements and this one. For one thing, the LGBTQA community, ordinary women, and minorities, did not possess the gifts which the unregistered community did. There was no need to keep track of them, for they did not pose a threat to the average citizen, despite the contemporary fears of the time. Nor had these people committed crimes against their fellow man. The same cannot be said for the unregistered community. You’ve heard yourself from the people affected by the incidents in which superheroes intervened -- businesses were destroyed, families lost, lives changed forever. These things must be accounted for, and thus, our response to this new community has changed with the times.”

He leaned back now, gripping the podium lightly. “As for the media presence, it would’ve been unconstitutional to ban their presence here. We did not invite them, we merely do not seek to stop reporters from doing their jobs. I trust that they will not print names or photos of those who do not wish to be seen, but that is an issue you will have to take up with them, sir. Rest assured, we have no intentions of seeking out the information they’ve collected. Our promise that this is a neutral ground was sincere, and we on the Panel will stand by that sentiment.” 

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“I, uh, heard that you've got a woman who is possessed on your team?” A young boy's voice shakes as he speaks, referring to the Enchantress. “And the She-Hulk? Just... lots of people who have or could go bad at any moment. Turn sides on you, without consciously knowing. Their dangers to not only us, but themselves. Why do you let them walk around freely?"

Orse smiled at the young man, his pale eyes lacking any warmth from the expression. “We have several powerful heroes on our team. But I assure you, young man, this is not cause for fear. Rather it is cause for celebration. By registering with our team, allowing our scientists and analysts to assess their capabilities, we have been able to create safeguards. Our Strike Force, for instance, is armed with an array of anti-power devices, including those which can render many kinds of abilities inert. We are also working on several promising projects that will help people, such as thee woman you spoke of, control her abilities and use them for the betterment of the community as a whole. It is our goal to extend this kind of aid to all who may feel unable to control their extraordinary gifts, whether they seek to use those gifts to assist us or merely to live as normal a life as possible. The threats these kinds of people pose are at the forefront of this Panel’s mind, and we have taken steps to assure that not only will they be able to walk around freely, without fear of causing unintentional harm, but so that citizens such as yourself, can also walk the streets without fear. Thank you, young man.”

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"I'm all for bringing peace between opposing sides, but it seems certain matters have been forgotten since the Registration Act was passed. Many of us lost our businesses, our homes, our loved ones during the Incident, and have been left with piles and piles of debt due to damages and injuries. The Panel was put together to help the people that were affected, but all you've done is riling up freaks and giving them jobs. Half of New York is still destroyed, where the hell is our aid?"

“I assure you, sir,” Orse said, holding up a hand. “Your losses have not been forgotten. This Panel exists for people like yourself, and reparations are an important part of this committee’s plans. We are currently working with several economists, analysts, and relief programs to assess the need and where it will be most helpful. If you wish to make a specific inquiry, I advise you to contact us directly. Aid will be given, I promise you that. And those responsible will face justice. The heroes we employ are those seeking to make amends for their actions, which I believe we can all agree, is a noble goal.”

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Stephen approached the microphone, surprisingly with a hint of a smile on his face. “Firstly, I would just like to apologize to you, Mr. Orse, for the fact that we seem to have been unable to…connect with any of our scheduled appointments. I swear I have given your people the correct address, so I can’t imagine what the problem is.” His smile vanished then, his tone completely serious now. “As one of the previous speakers said, how do you know when it is appropriate to call for the support of heroes, and are you certain you can do so in time? Before becoming Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme, I was a neurosurgeon, and I quickly learned that mere seconds can save lives. Since then, I have seen too many instances where heroes need to decide in a split second whether to act, and I don’t see how that can be accomplished if they have to wait for permission. Yes, rash actions can cause harm, but they can also help, and I believe each of us should be allowed to make up our own minds about how and when to act.”

The audacity was perhaps Mr. Strange’s most bold trick. Orse regarded the man coolly, though he continued to smile. “I’m afraid we don’t have the time to indulge in your childish games, Mr. Strange,” he said simply, giving the crowd a pointed look. “So I will merely respond to your questions. As stated previously, with the proper resources, our analysts will be able to assess threatening situations and advise us as to the proper course of action. I assure you, heroes will not be sitting idly by while waiting for instructions -- rather, as I’ve said, they will be used to help us make these decisions. Time is precious, but with speedsters, telepaths, and other people with extraordinary abilities, we will be able to make important decisions within those nanoseconds. If you yourself were to assist us, imagine the good that we could accomplish, without acting rashly. We could proceed in an orderly fashion, and ensure the best way to minimize threats and save lives.” 

He tilted his head now, studying the man before him. If he could even be called such. “A rash action, by definition, is one which is taken without thought of the consequence. The men and women of this country will always be free to make decisions about how and when to act -- but the Accountability Panel will be there to address situations where such actions lead to harm in the pursuit of doing good. To make sure that people who make those decisions will have to think about the consequences. After all... the road to hell is paved with good intentions, is it not, Mr. Strange?” 

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Diana grabbed the microphone when it was offered to her, stepping forward. “Thank you, and good evening,” she said, looking around the room. “I would firstly like to thank the Accountability Panel for organizing this event. Democracy is a conversation, not a contract, and decisions that would affect us all should always be a matter of the people, from the very beginning.” She paused, turning to face the crowd. “Secondly, for matters of transparency and even if unnecessary, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Diana of Themyscira, or Diana Prince for those who prefer it. I am a member of the Security Council of the United Nations, and a founder of the Justice League. I am unregistered, acquiring diplomatic immunity due to my position in the UN, and because the country I represent and I do not agree with this Panel’s actions. I’ve been in this world for a hundred years, seen ordinary and extraordinary people working together, both for the good of the world and for it’s destruction. I’ve been both on the side of the law and outside of it, with the government and against it, but never against the people and their rights. I’ve never claimed to be perfect, I’ve never claimed not to make mistakes, and that’s why I’ve always been willing to accept the consequences of my actions.” She paused, her gaze traveling through the crowd. “It is my choice for you to know who I am, to not wear a mask, just like it’s your choice to let me know who you are.” She turned towards the podium, looking at the man behind it. “So my request, Mister Orse, is for you to practice what you preach, to be transparent with us like you want us to be with you, and to answer my questions honestly. What makes you specifically the most qualified to lead the Accountability Panel? How can we trust personal beliefs and experiences won’t affect the Panel’s decisions when only the handful of members are allowed a say in what is done?”

For the first time in the evening, Orse was apprehensive. Diana Prince had proven from the beginning that she was difficult. She had been one of the first they approached, urging her to sign, and she had hidden behind her diplomatic status and staunchly refused. His distaste for her knew no bounds -- though he showed none of it, smiling at her as she approached, nodding his head graciously at her thanks. 

When she (finally) finished speaking, Orse leaned towards the microphone. “Thank you, Ms. Prince. For your transparency, and as ever, for your intelligence and wisdom. Though we disagree on several matters, we at the Panel have always admired the work you have done.” He straightened up, rolling his shoulders back, facing the crowd. “Ms. Prince is a unique situation. She herself has told you about her unwavering commitment to accountability, how she has always bravely accepted the consequences of her actions when mistakes were made. This, combined with her dedicated service to the United Nations, and the fact that she has never felt the need to hide behind a mask or false identity, has allowed this Panel to place its trust in her. She is technically unregistered, and yet, we regard her as an ally in the fight for truth and justice, ideals we do agree upon.” He flashed Diana a smile, then turned back to the crowd. 

“Perhaps it is time to return that trust. Ms. Prince’s wisdom is sound, her questions fair. I would merely like to preface my answer with the fact that everything I am about to tell you is a part of the public record. I too, have never felt the need to hide my true identity.” He gazed across the crowd, as if he were attempting to make eye contact with every person in the room. “I was born into a military family. My father and mother both served this country during World War II, and as soon as I was able, I followed in their brave footsteps. I served terms in Korea, Vietnam, and the Dominican Republic, first as a soldier, though I eventually achieved the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. From there, I decided to continue serving my country by working in the public sector. I was elected a Congressman for this great state, and have spent the last five decades working tirelessly to ensure the safety and rights of our country, and our local communities.”

He turned to Diana now. “The public elected me to that position, and I did not waver in my responsibilities until a greater calling pulled me to this Panel. I was chosen by the state and federal government to serve on this Panel because of my experience, integrity, and a track record which shows I have always sought justice and peaceful cooperation. As were all the members of my team,” he said, gesturing to them now. “The decision to appoint me as the chairman of the Panel was an unanimous decision, one that was not taken lightly. I implore you, Ms. Prince, and all the people here...” He gestured to the crowd. “Go look for yourself. I have never acted with personal bias, the will of the people has always been my guiding light. It may seem as though the decisions that have been passed in the recent months have come from this group of dedicated men and women, but in truth, ladies and gentleman, it has come from you. We have heard your fears, we have listened to your worries, and we have taken action. Our authority, the very reason this Panel exists, is because of the will of the public. And we will continue to serve that will, transparently and without hesitation. We will do what is necessary to uphold your wishes, not those of a select few, no matter how powerful those few may be,” he said pointedly. 

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

Felicia had taken the microphone from the next person, her icy gaze narrowed into slits at the man before her. “Let me ask you this – What happens when someone figures out there is a mutant living next door to them or a hero thanks to the Accords, what happens when someone is killed over their identity? What happens if someone targets Spider-Man? A kid, who you just outed in front of hundreds. Or a mutant who just wants to feel safe and protected because he doesn’t know how to control his powers – What happens if we put our trust in YOU? Do we end up dead like Walker? Or do we get to run around cleaning up messes while real criminals are causing mayhem? Because I didn’t see your ass out their on the front lines when an alien army came through a portal in the sky or when a robot army attacked.” She glances towards the crowd, lips pursed into a tight line. “What happens if our friends die under your watch – Who is responsible for their death? Who tells their families that you couldn’t protect them?” Her voice wavers for a single moment.

The woman was clearly overcome with emotion. Orse frowned solemnly, folding his hands together on the podium while he waited for her to finish speaking. The waver in her voice is so telling -- and that was the problem with becoming emotional. It left one vulnerable. 

“I was once a soldier, miss,” Orse began. “A high-ranking officer in the US Army. I served our country proudly, and on occasion --” He paused, inhaling sharply as if it were a painful revelation. “That meant informing the families of the soldiers who served under my command, that their son or daughter would not be returning home. The enemy who shot down these brave men and women, they were the true ones at fault. Just as with Ms. Walker’s death, the Syndicate is the true cause of that pain. But the responsibility for informing her family rested on my shoulders, just as it did with those soldiers. I assure you, it is not a responsibility I take lightly. It is a heavy burden, but it is one I am willing to bear. Because you are correct, my dear,” he said, nodding to the woman. “I cannot serve this community from the front lines. Those days are far behind me. I choose to serve the public where I am most needed. It is more difficult than I can explain, to know that the threats that face us are no longer mine to fight. To know that wars are so much more than battles in a jungle. There is a unique pain that comes with accountability, with admitting that I could not protect Ms. Walker the way she deserved to be protected. I am far too old now to believe that I will never face that pain again. As many of you have pointed out, terrible things over which we have no control, are bound to happen. We live in a dangerous world.”

He paused now. Humility was important in this moment. There was a human element at play here that needed to be carefully attended to, that required silence and solemnity in order to build solidarity to his ideals. “I cannot promise that every registered hero will come out of every conflict alive and well. Just as a general cannot, and would never, promise his soldiers that all of them will survive a war. What I can promise, is that standing divided, allowing ourselves to be torn apart by petty issues and prideful desires, will lead to far more tragedies. Just as we saw with Ms. Walker, and the Inhumans who died before her. The young man on Times Square. The common thread is that all of these people were alone when they died. They were not united, not organized, and thus, they were vulnerable. They clung to privacy, and in some cases, to their secret identities, and it led to their downfall. Would these tragedies have been prevented if they were registered? We may never know the answer. But it is a fact that being unregistered, that keeping their secrets, ended with their deaths.”

He allowed that to sink in, gauging the crowd for a moment. “Trust must be given in order to be obtained. It is our hope that by being open and honest with one another, no one shall feel threatened by the mutant living next door. The risk of mutually assured destruction is created by an atmosphere of distrust, and distrust is bred from not knowing. Not knowing who or what may be living next door, or what they plan to do. Prejudice stems from ignorance, this is a lesson history has taught us. But if everyone, gifted or otherwise, were open and upfront about themselves, about their intentions, about their true selves -- mutually assured destruction would fade into mutually assured trust. If that neighbor knows there is a mutant living next door -- but also knows that mutant is registered and seeks only to serve their community in whatever way they can -- then that distrust and that fear fades. If everyone is held accountable for their actions, then we can all trust that we will act in a way that benefits us all. And perhaps, that will lead us away from rash, prejudicial reactions. Away from tragedy, and towards peace.” 

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“If I’ve learned anything as a Trooper, it’s that ‘War brings Death’. Pretty self-explanatory, right? Apparently not to you. When you fight for the greater good, there’s going to be consequences and casualties no matter what. You can’t expect there not to be. That isn’t how things work.” The woman who now stands lets out a sigh. “I’ve seen good people die. People fighting for this country and the government meant to protect its people.” An accusing finger is now pointing Orse’s way. “You really want to help? Cause less people to fall victim? Alright, I’m with you, but you’ve gotta put your focus on the real bad guys. The ones who lead to our problems in the first place and make our heroes have reason to fight. Don’t try to put the blame on them when they’re trying to help, trying to prevent more loss, just because you’re unable to fix the problem yourself. The actions of BAD PEOPLE are what cause BAD THINGS to happen, and, right now, I’m staring at one of them.”

Orse seemed unphased by the finger pointing in his direction. He merely nodded at the woman. “We at the Panel thank you for your dedicated service,” he began. “And for your candor. But most of all, we thank you for your bravery.” He turned now to the crowd. “This woman has served our city and the state, in what I’m sure has been an exemplary fashion. She has fought for justice, sought to put those who would harm our community behind bars. And she has done so without a false identity, without a mask, without a cape. Instead she is cloaked in something much more powerful -- accountability. Honesty. Openness.” He smiled at the woman. “Your simple wisdom is much appreciated, officer. But I find myself with a question -- what is it that makes a bad person bad? What separates the thieves, the rapists, the murderers from the common, decent, law-abiding citizen? In short, what makes a villain? The answer,” he said, leaning forward as though he were sharing an important secret, his pale eyes earnest. “Is these bad people do not expect to take accountability for their actions. They seek to act without consequence. They operate in the shadows to commit their crimes. A thief does not proceed under the assumption that he will be caught, he does not tell the bank tellers of his plans to steal from them. A nefarious man does not slip drugs into an unsuspecting woman’s drink with the intention to announce this to the rest of the bar. In short, they keep their intentions secret, and they do so because they know that to reveal these intentions would keep them from their plans.”

He paused now, letting the seeds fully take root. “The unregistered population -- the vigilantes who claim to want to help keep our community safe -- they are not so different from these bad people. For they too, do not announce to the world their intentions. To do so would prevent their plans. They keep secrets, as surely as a bank robber. Their intentions may be pure, may be misguided but overall good, but how can we trust that? How do you trust someone who will not show you their face? The only difference between a bank robber and a vigilante, is the type of mask they wear. Whether it is a ski-mask, or a colorful costume, the implications are the same. These people have something to hide, and they fear these secrets becoming public knowledge. As a member of the public, I ask, how are we to trust those who do not trust us?” 

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A man shoves his hands deep in his pockets, waiting for his turn to speak. When the microphone is finally passed his way, he takes a deep breath, shoulders tensed. "I'm with you, Orse!" He finally says, his voice firm. "We need these monsters to be locked up, but first, we need to know who our biggest threats are. What unregistered heroes pose the biggest danger to civilization as we know it?"

Orse’s expression did not change, he still wore the same tight-lipped smile. But his heart soared -- they were truly reaching the public it seemed. “We at the Panel thank you for your continued support, sir,” he said, nodding to the man. “But monsters is a strong word. We prefer to think of unregistered heroes as potential assets. If they register and agree to act with responsibility, they can provide a great service to the community.” He shook his head slightly. “Perhaps the best answer to your question is this: any vigilante or superpowered individual who continues to put their own needs before the greater needs of the community is the biggest threat. And make no mistake, those who continue to hide behind masks, who refuse to come forward and serve their community when we need it most, they are acting selfishly. And in a sense, they are truly monstrous.” 

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

Outside, Natasha is scanning the crowd that has amassed. When she spots a young woman, no older than twenty, she beckons her forward and hands her a hundred dollar pill, requesting that she simply asks Orse a question. They enter the main room together once again. While the girl approaches the podium, Natasha hangs back, observing.

In front of Orse, the young woman straightens, her shoulders pushed back and her chin raised defiantly. “If the Syndicate are such a threat to you, sir, then how can you possibly be gathering every hero, unregistered and registered alike? You’ve painted a target on all of our backs. Some might even suggest that you’re in cahoots with the Syndicate themselves. What is your true intention here?”

Orse tilted his head at the woman, eyes scanning the crowd. Such a pointed question, one that was sure to be on everyone’s mind. He caught a glimpse of her, the infamous Black Widow, far off in the crowd. She was difficult to overlook, her gaze burning almost as coldly as his own. 

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” Orse said, turning his gaze back to the woman asking the question. “Winston Churchill’s ever-timely wisdom. The Panel considers the Syndicate to be a very serious threat, this is true. But if targets have been painted, it is by their hand, not our own. And this gathering, this show of unity and force, is meant to demonstrate to our common enemy that we are not afraid of them. To cower and remain divided, so they may be emboldened and continue to pick off heroes one by one, seems a foolish strategy to me,” he said, smiling that tight-lipped smile at the woman. “We are united, unregistered and registered, hero and citizen alike, by a common enemy now. This meeting was designed so that we might also be united by shared ideals, so that our foundation can be strong enough to withstand any outside terror that may threaten our city. To throw baseless accusations around does not further that cause. Our intention has always been to stand with those who seek to protect the city. So that we may better defend it, and all its citizens, including the superpowered community, from those who would threaten it.”

In cahoots with the Syndicate. It was absurd, though for a time, Orse had considered it. Fewer rogue elements to detain was a win for all parties, after all. But the Syndicate had forced his hand now. The only consolation was that they had also forced the hands of the unregistered community. If he remained steadfast and strong, they would flock to him. He was sure of it. 

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

Bucky had no intention of standing to ask a question when he walked in the door with Sharon. Perhaps it was the way that Orse just carelessly unmasked Parker as Spiderman. Perhaps it was his need to atone for his sins. But whatever it was, when he saw the microphone coming close to their section of the room, Bucky took off his hat, tucking hair behind his ears so his face was completely visible, and set it on Sharon’s lap. He didn’t glance at her face in case it would stop him from proceeding and he briefly set his hand on her shoulder as he stood before the microphone passed. He took it, nodding a thanks to the assistant who handed it over, and took a deep breath before speaking, ignoring the pit that gathering in his stomach. “My name is James Barnes…and I have a question,” he said as levelly as possible. “I think everyone here agrees that people need to be held accountable for their wrongs. But there is no such thing as a perfect soldier. Even with orders to follow, they make mistakes. But sometimes it’s not any fault of their own, but it lies with the men who made those decisions behind closed doors. But are they the ones that get held accountable? Never. There’s always someone else to take the blame. So what happens, Mr. Orse, when the panel makes a bad call and like good soldiers, your registered heroes follow orders? What happens then?” He was silent a moment, waiting for an answer, but he was compelled to continue. “Do I think I should be held accountable for my sins? Absolutely. Every single one. But not by you.” Although his voice was calm, the tone was sharper, full of a conviction he hadn’t heard from his mouth since he decided to join Steve’s commandos. “Not by men that sit in $500 suits behind a desk and know nothing of war. Not by men that have agendas, or secrets. That eventually would use those soldiers for their own gain, no matter how much you deny it won’t come to that point. I had no choice but to sit back and watch as it happened to me for seventy years…and I couldn’t stop it. Because this is exactly how it starts, every time. Hydra, Hive, the Hand. They all started the same way. People like you. Who think they know better. Who need to be in control. So the question is who exactly should I be judged by?” He handed the microphone back to the assistant and raised both hands indicating the full room around him. “By them,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear.

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. His sordid history was well-known to the Panel, and he was a prime target for them. Now he stood in front of them, and their hands were tied by protocol. Orse took a moment to appreciate the irony of the moment, allowing Mr. Barnes his little show. Some in the crowd cheered and clapped at his words. Others merely looked towards Orse, apprehension in their gaze.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Barnes,” Orse began coldly. “This Panel represents the will of those people. We act with the authority they have granted us. We are, like you were once upon a time, good soldiers, but our commander is the city as a whole.” He turned now to the crowd. “Mr. Barnes says he wishes to atone for his sins. For the crimes he has committed against the innocent, and yet he comes forward not to confess those sins, but rather to cast blame on those around him. I was a soldier myself. I saw battle and warfare, and I once shared his frustration with the men in charge who seemed to know nothing of the front lines. Until I became one of those men, and realized what a heavy burden is to lead, to send others into battle and remain behind ‘closed doors’ so that the war may come to an end. So that peace can be assured. Facing death at the hands of an enemy soldier was a far simpler cross to bear.”

He paused, his cold eyes staring out across the crowd. “This Panel has always acted with the best interests of the public in mind. We have no secrets, we hide behind no masks. Our faces and public records are open to all of you. And not because someone leaked the information, no. Rather because we have always acted in the open, have always faced our mistakes as they occurred. Do I think I know what is better for the public than men like Mr. Barnes? Perhaps, but if so, that is only because I listen to the public. Does this Panel seek to use registered heroes as soldiers? Yes, but not for personal gain. For yours, my fellow citizens. For the benefit of all. Do we want to control these people? No. We want to regulate them, to give them guidance. To hold them accountable for their ‘sins,’ and to remind them who and what they are fighting for. Mr. Barnes has forgotten who he was meant to serve in the past,” he said darkly, casting a glance at the man. “But the members of this Panel has never forgotten what we stand for. Order, justice, and protection of the innocent. If there is gain to be had, it is a gain that will be shared by the community as a whole.”

He looked back at Barnes now, his pale eyes burning with that peculiar cold fire. “Should this Panel ever act in a way that does not serve the public interest, then we will be held accountable for it immediately. We are man enough to take responsibility. And I trust that whatever judgement befalls us will be a fraction of the judgement that will be served to you one day, Mr. Barnes.” 

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

Nathan stood at the back of the room watching the milling crowd and listening to the hushed whispers.  He didn’t mind being at the back, his presence created less of a distraction that way.  And it gave him a chance to listen and think.  So many futures; so many times had the people reacted in this very manner to the presence of individuals with powers.  It never ended well, despite sincerely held good intentions, and Nathan had yet to decide if this Panel’s intentions were sincerely good or not.

Finally having heard enough, Nathan carefully made his way through the crowd to where one of the microphones waited for people with questions.  It was surely an odd sight, as Nathan had made no effort to conceal the changes that the techno-organic virus from his timeline had made to his body.  With the microphone almost swallowed up in his broad hand, Nathan turned his gaze to the man at the podium, the soft yellow gleam of his left eye hinting at more cybernetic changes concealed beneath the skin.

“Mr. Orse, thank you for giving us this chance to address our concerns with your… panel.  I just have a couple of questions for you.  As you pointed out the American government operates on a system of checks and balances.  What are your checks and balances?  Secondly, you say your panel is  made up of public security and foreign affairs people.  Are any of them ‘other than human’?  How do you propose to make decisions for us without our input?”

The man was certainly strange, but Orse had been dealing with such anomalies for over a year now. He regarded the man carefully, though he kept his expression stoically blank, nodding at the thanks. “Our checks and balances come from the public itself,” he said, gesturing to the crowd. “Meetings such as this allow us an opportunity to address public concern with our actions. Also, given that we are comprised of several members, you can be assured that no decision is made by any one person for any singular agenda.” Though the Panel did concede to him on all matters, this was not public knowledge. They presented themselves as a united front. “As of right now, the Panel is comprised only of human and non-powered individuals. Our main goal, of course, is to represent the wishes of the average citizen, and as such, it seemed the most appropriate course of action. We do consult with our registered heroes, and they are included in the discussion as much as anyone.” Mr. Stark would certainly disagree, but he was a man who was used to not being challenged -- nor could he be trusted with the most sensitive information. “This very meeting was designed to gain your input, sir,” he said, looking directly into the man’s glowing eye. Mechanical? Magical? Orse made a note to find out. “It is difficult, to negotiate terms with those who wear masks and hide behind aliases. But we have always been an open organization, willing to listen to any who would come forward. All we ask is that the discussion be conducted with mutual respect and trust, which for some, is too high a price to pay. I trust this answers your question,” he said, waving the man away.

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

"How exactly does registering prevent destructions or deaths? I mean, that flying city fell on your watch, the bodies appeared while the Strike Force patrolled the streets, and those Syndicate people killed one of your own right under your nose. Your own Strike Force has caused enough chaos trying to hunt these people down, and no one has faced consequences for that. How can you claim to work better when, just like the Avengers or the Justice League, you can't predict or prepare for everything?"

“An excellent question,” Orse replied automatically, though his jaw twitched almost imperceptibly. “No man can prepare for everything the future may hold, this is true. Though perhaps if we were to gain the support of telepaths, that might change,” he said, smiling as though it were a joke. “This organization seeks to minimize such threats. Particularly the civilian casualties and public destruction that can occur when a threat arises. We do this by ensuring that those who may cause the most damage are held accountable for their actions – the same way that the threat of jail-time or suspension keeps a police officer from firing his gun without due cause, the sanctions within our authority will keep superpowered individuals from acting rashly. It will give them a structure and protocol to follow.” 

He took a deep breath. “There will always be forces beyond our control,” he said, speaking now to the crowd. “Tragedies that we cannot prevent. But we can ensure that our city is best equipped to handle such disasters when they arise, and in doing so, we can respond quickly and effectively, and minimize the damage caused. We will also be able to rebuild faster once these damages occur, by utilizing the unique abilities of our registered heroes. The Flash, for instance, would be able to very quickly assist in evacuating a building on the brink of collapse, and those with superstrength would be able to clear away the rubble for a fraction of the average cost and at a much faster pace. As for the Strike Force members causing ‘chaos,’ this is not the understanding we have of their behavior. They have been authorized to take extreme action to nullify the threats of a vigilante, but any destruction incurred in that process will be dealt with by this Panel. If you, or any member of the public witness such an event and you believe they have overstepped their bounds in any way, we encourage you to report it directly to our hotline.”

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

Sharon finished scribbling down her question on a small paper and after making sure no one was paying attention passed it to a little girl. She could not publicly voice her opinion but that didn’t mean she was going to remain quiet. The girl raised her hand to speak but was ignored by the chatting adults. It was then that a loud whistle left her lips, all eyes fixed on the little girl, the room finally in silence waiting for her to speak. Someone passed her the microphone. “You speak about transparency but so far I haven’t heard you admitting that The Panel knew about the Syndicate long before Trish Walker was tragically murdered. What are you doing to stop them? Or isn’t it a priority since their targets are superpowered people?” 

A hush fell over the crowd. Orse had to fight to keep his face twisted into his strange smile as he studied the little girl. This was not her question, that was obvious from the slip of paper in her hand. His eyes swept across the room, wondering who had leaked such sensitive information. “Well, my dear,” he began finally, berating himself for taking too long. “That is quite the question you have. I would be curious as to where you’ve sourced your information.” He could not stall forever -- his mind raced through the options. A bold lie could smooth over the scandal, but it could leave them vulnerable later. Best to go with a half-truth. “The Panel was aware of some kind of organization targeting the superpowered community, yes, before Ms. Walkers untimely death. Their first targets were Inhumans, the victims began appearing shortly after the city fell into the Hudson,” he said, gazing out over the crowd, eyes blazing with that peculiar cold fire he was so adept at. 

“We chose not to arouse panic in the general public, and thus we withheld the information, but our intention was to make all such plans known once we had the suspects detained. It was not to deceive the public, but rather to not alert our enemies to our knowledge of their presence. To maintain the element of surprise, if you will. Unfortunately, given our strained resources at the time -- the lack of heroes with the courage to come forward and register -- our ability to investigate and nullify this threat was compromised. We were unable to prevent the death of Ms. Walker, though we knew a threat existed and we encouraged her to allow protection. As such, we accept our piece of responsibility for the tragedy. However,” he said in a low voice. “Some of that responsibility also lies with the unregistered community. By sticking to their foolish pride, they crippled our organizations ability to take effective action. And such tragedies will continue to occur, if more heroes do not step forward. These people claim to want to help, to protect the innocent, but they failed Ms. Walker as surely as we on the Panel did. They cling to notions like masks and secret identities, when the reality is, people are dying because of nothing more than pride and a refusal to change. Ms. Walker’s death rests on many shoulders. All we can do now is ensure that her killers are brought to justice -- but that will never happen if the unregistereds continue to act so selfishly.” 

[accordsandaccountabilitypanel]

The new ADA, never one to remain silent when she believed in something, stepped forward and took the microphone. “I’ve been a lawyer for quite some time now, my dad was a cop, so I’m a strong believer in justice always have been” Dinah paused for a moment “but I’ve also learned that justice doesn’t always come in the form we might want it to, sometimes you have to go outside the law to find it, it shouldn’t be like that but unfortunately in some cases it is. These heroes risk their lives for us and this is how we repay them? And despite what most think not all of them have powers, some of them are normal people wanting to make a difference, wanting to help people” Dinah glanced around the room before returning her attention to Orse “I get that people are scared of the unknown, I really do, but I have met a lot of heroes, and they all want the same thing; to help. We should all be glad that’s what they want instead of wanting to hurt people.” She could have said a lot more but she wanted to get to the point sooner rather than later “you say the accords are there to protect the heroes and civilians, and maybe that’s true, but why have the list public? You do understand that some of these heroes have families, right? That there’s a reason they wear a mask, it’s to protect their friends and families, being a hero means you make enemies along the way and they wouldn’t hesitate to go after one of the heroes loved ones if they knew who they were. How are you going to protect them? How are you going to keep the families of these heroes safe?”

“ADA Lance,” Orse said, nodding to the woman who stepped forward. Her position on the issues had not been clear until now, despite the whispers that she may have been more closely involved with vigilantes. “Justice, as you know, is a complicated issue. It is not always clear what the right choice is, and too often technicalities lead to the breakdown of a case. But the systems we have in place, however flawed they may be, are systems that we as a public have chosen to believe in and chosen to stand by. Operating outside of these systems, outside of the very law your office holds dear, is not justice ADA Lance. It is one man’s -- or one woman’s,” he said pointedly. “Idea of justice. And that is how corruption begins. With one person redefining and twisting the word ‘justice’ to suit their own ideals.” 

He paused, considering her. He gestured discreetly to another member of the Panel, to make a note of her. She was now officially a person of interest, they would need to keep a close eye on her. “No one is denying that heroes, powered or otherwise, have taken great personal risk in order to protect others. That is not in question. What is in question, is who will answer when their actions go awry? When homes and businesses are destroyed, when innocent people die, because one person decided that stepping outside of the law was their only option. It is not the only option any longer. We at the Panel are offering all heroes, whether they possess abilities or simply great skill, a chance to continue pursuing the noble goal of protecting others. We are simply also providing the public the right to know who it is that serves them. If these heroes you have encountered truly wish to help, there is no need for them to do so from the shadows. Unless they are afraid of the unknown -- for these vigilantes, facing the consequences of their actions is unknown to them. They have never stepped forward to claim responsibility for their mistakes, for the damage they have caused. That is why the List is available to the public. So those who seek to protect will remember who they are protecting. So the heroes of the world will be accountable to those they wish to help. And to those they have failed. The public has a right to such information.”

Orse gestured with one hand towards the Strike Force guards around the perimeter of the room. “As for protection, you are seeing it in action, ADA Lance. We all have families we wish to protect. The Strike Force -- who’s names and identities are also public -- have also put their lives on the line, in order to maintain order in this city. And they will continue to do whatever is necessary. Protecting those who protect us is a top priority for this Panel, particularly after Ms. Walker’s tragic death.” He paused, bowing his head for a moment. Each time Trish Walker was brought up, he knew he needed to appear the utmost contrite for her loss. “Her family has been offered such protection, and her mother assures us she has never felt safer. A mask serves only to protect an identity. An organized force protects people much more effectively. Thank you for your question, ADA Lance.”