The New Enterprise Tower, The Beauclaire Lounge
The tradition of the 'Election Party' was a tried and tested tradition, the journalists and other primary staff of the major papers and news networks of Metropolis, that weren't involved directly in the live broadcast of the results, all gathered in one place, dolled up and often drunk, regardless of result.
Clark had, of course, never been to one before, he had heard the previous one had been somewhat of a muted affair, what with the vast majority of the media's elite being in favour of a Clinton victory. Then everyone had got well and truly hammered, and it nobody seemed to remember a thing. The location was a grand sky-skraper resaurant, the name of which he'd remember if he truly tried. One of the glass walls, that would usually present a view of the city scape below, had been covered by a projector, displaying in fine detail a variety of news stories, polls, and other data about the vote as it progressed. Clark lent upon the bannister overlooking much of the restaurant floor, taking a sip of his drink. A triple rum and coke, it could only possibly effect him if he directly allowed it to. That had been a relief, when he'd gained control of his power to the extent he could reduce them at will, not just for getting drunk.
He might do so this very night, it looked as if Luthor was going to smash Trump, in an almost historic win for the Democrats. Clark Kent had no love for Donald Trump, but Luthor brought up more questions Clark wasn't ready to answer, about himself, and about the America he knew.
"Not in Kansas anymore." he mumbled to himself, turning his eyes back to the screen.
The screen was currently dominated by the Planet's Media Group's own coverage of the event, a panel of experts and journalists discussing the election and reporting the results as they came in live. Among them, central, sat one Lois Lane, conservatively elegant, as befitting the situation. He actually knew she was rather frustrated at having been selected to anchor the discussion, not her favourite part of the job, and, honestly, she would have rather been at the party. Clark would have probably been willing to switch places, had the offer been on the table.
There was a sudden commotion throughout the room as the coverage jumped, gone were the graphs and interviews, instead simply an image of Luthor, looking as Presidential as ever, a graphic, and beneath it some very important words. Luthor wins Florida. Clark was almost abuzz with deja vu, he had been in almost exactly the same situation four years prior, watching as Florida pushed Trump into the lead. Nothing could better surmise the turnaround over the last four years then the very same state securing victory for Luthor. There would likely be an announcement soon, Luthor was not one to wait, if anything, the press would likely be more interested in any public statement from the now outgoing President. Clark wouldn't wait for either, he was already on the move, heading for the exit. There was much to consider.
The Following Week, Gotham City
BREAKING NEWS;
TERRORIST ATTACK IN DOWNTOWN GOTHAM
ALL DOMESTIC AND INTERNATIONAL FLIGHTS GROUNDED
ALL CITY CENTRES TO FOLLOW EMERGENCY PROCEDURE.
REMAIN INDOORS.
Gotham was on fire.
The night sky, turned starless with smoke, was lit up by a thousand fires. The worst of it raged in downtown, but some of the damage was spreading to the more affluent areas of the city, a trend even the crime of Gotham rarely dared to strike against.
None could tell where the attack originated, one moment all was calm, and the next there were cries of gas. then all hell had broken loose. People were attack each other, or roving in large violent gangs, open and brash, unlike the usual insidious caution of Gotham crime. An hour has passed since the first reports, but response is still limited, for what can be done when a city rips itself apart?