You know how the Darkness likes to throw weird stuff at you sometimes to try and catch you off guard? Well it got me. Right in the face, with about ten kilos of pure Darkness snot.
I've felt lousy ever since--not helped by the fact that the rain's keeping the sun away.
[Wait. When is Jason ever in the mood to talk? Something odd's going on here. And why did it take him so long to realise it?]
Not contagious though, if you wanted to come over. Lois has gone out chasing a story.
[Clark spends the next ten minutes slowly waking up. Okay no, he has to go out and stop someone getting hit by a bus, but he does slowly wake up, slowly eats, drops himself back into his chair until Jason arrives, then belatedly superspeeds a quick clean up of the place when he knocks, and pulls open the door.]
[Jason raises an eyebrow at Clark when he pulls open the door, even if it's slightly hidden under a ballcap, which isn't that unusual, but it's for a team in port and he, y'know, actually looks like a teenager for once, rather than someone much older. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his levis as he leans against the doorframe, cast on his left wrist sticking out a little awkwardly. Why is he even here? Why is he even wanting to be social?]
[Oops. He forgot to--well, worry about his own appearance, he was so concerned about the apartment. The tracksuit doesn't help much. Okay. Clark vanishes for a moment, then reappears suited up and a lot less ruffled, blasting the stubble off his chin with a handheld mirror.]
[Jason just smirks a little before stepping into the apartment, glancing around for a moment. For whatever reason, the vigilante had imagined something different. Oh well. He moves over to the nearest chair and plops himself down, trusting Clark enough to not kill him with a pressure-triggered bomb.]
[Jason raises a candid eyebrow at him. NIce? What kind of crap is Clark smoking? If Jason could be invulnerable, he'd make sure no one could hurt him or use a weakness against him; he'd be unstoppable. Then again, it's a key difference between the two of them.]
Right. Nice. That's how I usually think of being sick, 'Gee isn't this nice.'
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Hey. Cl--
[What phone is he answering? God, he doesn't know, the fog hasn't cleared out from behind his eyes yet.]
Who's this?
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[Wow, he didn't know Clark could even get sick.]
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[More groggy pausing, and then a little more clearly.]
I punched a thing and it sn--long story. [Gross story.]
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I've felt lousy ever since--not helped by the fact that the rain's keeping the sun away.
[Wait. When is Jason ever in the mood to talk? Something odd's going on here. And why did it take him so long to realise it?]
Not contagious though, if you wanted to come over. Lois has gone out chasing a story.
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Yeah, I'll be there in ten.
[Darkness in the face? He's just going over to Clark's place to follow that interesting story, right?]
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Hey.
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Look like shit, too.
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How's that?
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Because I care so much about your appearance.
[Glance behind Clark into the apartment.] This some new thing where we all stand around in the hallway like morons instead of acting like real people?
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[And stepping back, he motions to the apartment.]
Come in, Jason.
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So you got a huge facefull of the good stuff.
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[So why is he grinning like making that mistake is the most awesome thing to have happened this month?]
I love being sick. I know it sounds crazy - maybe it's the fever talking - but it's just... Nice. Reminds me that I'm not invulnerable.
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Right. Nice. That's how I usually think of being sick, 'Gee isn't this nice.'
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It's alright. I know it's weird. Like I said, I'm sick so rarely, it's a new experience for me. It's scary--and that's exciting.
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