hang on to the glory at my right hand

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Who: Any and all new arrivals, NPCs, and anyone interested in greeting them!
When: All week. (May 2 - May 8)
Where: The baseball diamond, the Tower Apartments, and anywhere in between.
Summary: The Core is finally starting to bring new people in. Here's the chance for some initial meet and greet interactions.
Warnings: Will be updated as needed.

Comments

Tuesday, May 3rd

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Closed to a certain bat | Evening | Post-intro

[isitablurred]

[Clark, it turned out, had deeply underestimated The Pull. If it could yank him across space and time, or at least continents, didn't it stand to reason that it wasn't a one time thing? Like maybe it had the strength to keep him there, too? It should have been obvious that superpowers weren't going to be the way out, but somehow that didn't stop him trying. About a half mile into his leap he'd lost consciousness, freefalling back to the city below, a whirling mass of unconscious, tumbling limbs until he struck the ground three times as hard as he'd left it.

The soft evening sunlight soaked into him where he'd landed, maybe fifty yards from the Tower Apartments. It warmed his body, healing his scratches, and gradually the headstrong hero forced his eyes open, blinking into the fading light. He lay on a bed of shattered concrete, his steel-hard body quite perfectly intact, but one thing was perfectly clear: he was still in the prison city. Great.]

Guess I won't be trying that again.

you asked for a bat, bb? also, DAT CHEST

[kingofrooks]

[ It says something his life when repeated crashes and thumps and cracks of breaking concrete don't alarm him. Instead, he heads straight for that direction, because he knows only a few people who are capable of making concrete break instead of themselves, and even fewer who are plainly stupid enough to hurl themselves against the ground in order to try to escape. Or to somehow get out of here.

And his cape is settling around him (he doesn't have any other clothes, and given that a first glance through the network shows him Black Mask and the goddamn Joker, the uniform sticks to him like a second skin) as he watches the... very familiar yet very strange figure from a distance. It's obvious enough who it is; he recognizes it from the pictures of him in the house.

He rolls his eyes, and speaks- knowing that Clark can hear him perfectly well, even if he doesn't speak above a whisper. ]

If you're trying to commit suicide, try the water. You're just forcing people to clean up after you. [ A pause. ]Don't even pretend you can't hear me

It's lovely, isn't it? /beams

[isitablurred]

[At least the outfit he's wearing would be vaguely familiar, the House of El symbol emblazoned in grey on black across the front. Clark was drawing himself upright when the words reached him, barely more than a hushed whisper, but directed toward him out of the shadows none the less. Who was that in the falling darkness, and why did they know his name?

Brushing concrete dust off him, Clark rose to his feet, looking penetratingly into the deep shadow, though his shoulders were squared ready for a fight.]

Who's there?

[Like his eyes couldn't cut out the dark shape; the sharp ears, the cape as black as a starless Metropolis night. Like he was human.]

oh it is. also girlishly hairless

[kingofrooks]

[ And Bruce can't help but smirk a little because- even if Clark's face doesn't show his age, the way he reacts definitely does. It's far less polished than his usual behaviour, showing a person less used to behaving like a human does. Having much less time to internalize 'human' behaviours.

He doesn't move, remaining where he is. He knows that Clark can see him; can hear his heartbeat and breathing. He's tempted to slow both down just to spite him. ]

Try harder. Your eyes have already found me, and your ears are tilted towards my exact position. Your shoulders are tense; you immediately know I am a threat.

Either do it better or don't try at all.

Hey, when you look this good you don't hide it under piles of fabric. Oh, you do?

[isitablurred]

[Clark frowns. Try harder? Whoever this guy is, he clearly knows more about him than Clark is used to, but then people do have a surprising habit of appearing from nowhere knowing who he was.

Still, it was nice to be called 'Clark' by a potential enemy rather than 'Kal-el'.]

Maybe you could give me some pointers, seeing as you're doing so much better at fitting in.

[In that suit? Maybe not. He'd smile if he wasn't so on edge.]

Re: Hey, when you look this good you don't hide it under piles of fabric. Oh, you do?

[kingofrooks]

I'm not the one trying.

[ The response is immediately, and- that frown. That expression- this Clark definitely isn't as experienced in battle as the one he's used to, because the Clark he knows would simply smile and tease him like the idiot he is despite what is going on.

And he's moving, getting closer- hugging the shadows still, but letting the dying sun's light cast its red glow over him, the light skittering and glimmering across the leather of his uniform. ]

When you fell. Why did you fly instead of landing?

[isitablurred]

It's hard to keep from falling when you're unconscious.

[He'd begun to feel weaker the higher he'd gone, blacked out, and that was all he could remember before waking up on the sidewalk. Maybe he'd have done better if he had figured out flying first, but that was a weakness he didn't need to be reminded of, especially by a giant man bat.

Definitely giant. Clark's pretty bulky himself, but he's nothing to this guy. Even the light catching his shadowed costume seems afraid of him, as though it oughtn't to be touching something that belonged in the darkness.]

I think I can guess the name, but how do you know mine?

[kingofrooks]

[ Unconscious. That explains some things - that the powers that Clark now has weakens the further away from ground he gets. Most likely a preventive measure by this 'Core' thing to prevent them from leaving - why else would people stay, after all, especially in a world such as this?

(There's a reason why he's not thinking about leaving himself; to go back to Gotham, to where he belongs. Joker is here, Black Mask is here- but most importantly, he still remembers the burn of the Omega Sanction, the hatred in Darkseid's eyes, the taste of blood in his mouth and the feel of a gun in his hand. ]

Really now? [ And he tips his head up, looking at him. Clark has two inches on him, though this one is far less broad in the shoulders. ]

You've heard of me, and yet you don't understand how I know your name?

[isitablurred]

[That's right. The dark shadow hanging over Gotham; wasn't that supposed to be a bat? Lois would probably be kicking him and hissing in his ear by now: Clark, it's Batman. The Batman. Do you think he'd give me an interview?]

Someone told you, or somehow we've met before, right? I spent the last hour talking about alternate worlds and timelines, and it wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened.

[A wry smile finishes that sentence, and Clark takes more care to study the masked face, all the while thinking to himself: this is why I can't wear a mask to hide my identity. The Batman was terrifying, if anything trying to get as far away from human as he possibly could; the absolute opposite of what Clark was trying to achieve.

And then it suddenly dawns on him; those comments earlier?]

You must know me pretty well.

[kingofrooks]

[ The last hour. Of course; that post on the network - he's seen it, but refrained on making a comment until later. He wants to meet him first: to see what's different, what's the same- he has the powers, it seems, but not as much the control. None of his years of experience. It makes him less of an asset. Less volatile.

He also doesn't know who Bruce is.

(And there's part of him that think this is good; that it fits into his plans. Because he needs to be alone here - to fight the Joker and the Black Mask, he will have to cast off most, if not all, of his usual ties. Having tnhe both of them at the same time, and on an enclosed island- he despises it. It makes it too easy for them to get to him through people he cares about. ]

I do. You're not exactly hard to read.

[ But it's- difficult to not fall into old habits with Clark. It's Clark. In Dick's words: Goddamn Superman himself.

Except he's not yet, is it? Damnit. ]

Your powers. Do they all work here? [ Pause. ] Don't even bother pretending they don't exist. I've documented

[isitablurred]

[Close, but not yet. The costume is a step toward that, though now, without a proper outfit to change into, it was actually more of a risk than anything else. Clark Kent did not wear black leather jackets about town.]

Well I can't say I've tried anything else. I didn't want to draw any attention to myself. And if it's true that I'm the only one here from Metropolis, I'm going to end up doing just that.

[Clark seems to pause for a moment, listening to a conversation in the distance, then steps forward, brushing past the other man.]

This way. Someone saw me falling.

[They could both disappear into the darkness of the alleyway, with Clark all in black the way he was. And if Bruce wanted to continue this conversation, he'd just have to follow.]

[kingofrooks]

[ At least the leadership ability - or rather, the tendency to drop orders and expect people to obey - is still there. Caution, too - he's young, and not stupid. Good. Because if he is Bruce is just going to abandon him.

And he actually moves and follows him even though his logic is telling him that he needs to get away from this man. He's not the Clark that Bruce knows; he's not the same man he trusts he back to for years. He knows and understands this.

But. He follows anyway- until they reach a dark alley, tucked between shadows- and it is so strange to see Clark meld into the darkness simply because he's so used to him shining and standing out. Like a beacon of fucking light. ]

Your hearing works. [ He's talking under his breath. ] The x-ray and telescopic visions? Heat vision? Frost breath? [ He cocks his head- he's surprised Clark doesn't just show him this. ]

Flight?

[isitablurred]

[Clark checks them off in his own head, though he's not used to actually doing it. Superspeed. Check. Vision. Check. For a brief moment there's fire in his eyes, it dies out quickly, and then the dark alleyway is filled with dense, cold mist as he exhales. Even if the darkness wasn't there, the mist would dissuade anyone from following them. Naturally Clark doesn't seem to feel the chill at all. But then there's that word:

Flight.

And he glances up into Bruce's bright, gleaming slit eyes.]

I... [Why does everyone always ask about the flying?] --Can't.

[kingofrooks]

[ Can't- one of the greatest and most famed abilities of Superman and he can't do it? He can't fly- no wonder he had fallened like that, when he came down. He can't fly; he can't just suspend his gravity so as to not hit the ground.

... Does it learn it much later in his life, or is this a different Clark entirely? One that's not from Bruce's world; that's not a younger version of the man he trusts?

He cocks his head to the side, and if Clark is trying, you can see him frowning beneath the cowl. ]

What's your control over your gravity?

[isitablurred]

[He's almost there, he'll pick it up in no time. Clark folds his arms, dropping his shoulder against one of the brick walls. The last inches of sun drop away from the buildings above their head. Sirens will go off soon.

Carefully, Clark balances how much to tell him; but if Batman knows all about his powers, all about his future, then he probably knows about Jor-El, too.]

I keep trying. Fallen off enough buildings and made enough untidy landings to proove I'm not ready yet. People don't fly, so neither, apparently, can I--at least until I let go of my humanity.