@heartsoirs ✭ potato, potato. [ lois dismisses the—founded in some truth at the very least—accusation, that she makes the jobs of a handful of publicists and even a few interns they’ve pawned her off on harder than they need to be, with a wave of her hand. heels clicking against the pavement, she follows after anaisa to the crosswalk, smartphone opened to her notes app in one hand and clutching her overflowing purse with the other ] i did not become a journalist to appease people, miss wayne. i want to inform the masses of what goes on behind the scenes and uncover certain truths the upper echelons of the country try desperately to keep hidden from the regular citizen. [ she retorts bluntly. none of her efforts made lois lane particularly well-liked in the world of politics, military, and business. call it a certain morbid curiosity, or an itching need to be a separate person from general sam lane’s eldest daughter. either way, she only sought out the truth ] i’m well aware of your personal… / distaste / towards some of the individuals in your tax bracket. all i’m asking is a short interview. thirty minutes max. [ a derisive snort passes her lips at the—in lois’ opinion—bogous excuse thrown in her direction in response to an interview. it wasn’t the first, and hardly would be the last, time someone waved her off when she sought them out for an interview. especially with the reputation that followed her throughout metropolis, gotham, central, and star city ] another time, then? you’ll find that i’m quite adaptable, miss wayne.