hang on to the glory at my right hand
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. ( Read more... )
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. ( Read more... )
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Bruce looks at himself. At his black-gauntleted hands and the scarred skin he knows is underneath. He looks at the black cape that sweeps the ground and he wants to laugh because the very idea of this is insane. Unbelievable.
Clark is more human than he can ever be. ]
If you take having two feet on the ground as proof that you'reh uman, I've given you far too much credit. [ It's said perfectly matter-of-factly. ]
I've seen monsters, and none of them can fly. [ He cocks his head to the side. ] Don't be stupid.
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I may not have been born under this yellow sun, but I was brought up under it. It's not as easy as you might think to just switch that off, even knowing better.
Jor-El said that it was as simple as cutting my ties. I guess we'll see if that works now I'm here. [Now I'm alone] And even if it doesn't, I can still jump a little further than anything that comes after me.
[The rest of it is unspoken: I can look after myself.]
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(I am Kal-El, son of Jor-El and Lara. That's the only time Bruce has heard Clark say his father's name. Is it because of his age- or is it because this is an alternate universe?)
And he smirks a little because- really, Clark always can. It doesn't stop Bruce from looking after him- and he looks at Clark for a long moment. He shouldn't show his cards easier, but.
If he's ever compromised... (And it's possible, Hurt and Desaad showed him that.) His fingers slip to the utility belt. The front compartment. And- in the quickest sleight of hand, he opens it and snaps it close again.
It's not enough to let radiation escape. But enough for Clark to know what's in there. What he has ( ... )
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Of course, there's always that shard of blue kryptonite that he doesn't know about, sitting in a SERO lab somewhere now.
He pulled away from the wall, his grin already gone, expression deathly serious.]
In case I ever need to be stopped, or in case I get in the way?
[He couldn't tell Bruce to get rid of it; he'd already read about the Core turning upside down on everyone a fortnight ago, and it would be a liability to do so. The other man would know that too. But he still wasn't sure of his motives, even if he was certain that his future self must trust him.
In the distance, the Sirens went off.]
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But right now, it just reminds him of a city that he has not seen in a period of time that he's not even sure of- and those questions. He smiles a little, tips his head back to look at him.
At least he's still cautious enough to have that second option. ]
You gave it to me [ a deliberately wording ] because you have a tendency of getting mind-controlled.
[ He cocks his head to the side. ]
Has it started yet?
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Even in the future?
[It's almost a rhetorical question. He seems to attract kidnapping, mind control and magic, as though there's a sign on his back that reads 'Yup, me, I'm the target you're thinking of.' Still, he's already listening to the Darkness, even his sharp eyes having trouble cutting through the thickness, the way it decays the walls and crawls seemingly with despair made physical over ever surface, deepening shadows and darkening what spots of light remained. The possibility of seeing stars through it fades with the clarity of the city around him.
And in the distance he can hear shouting, mumbled, terrified conversations of people trapped outside after the Sirens, the concerns of people locking down their buildings, and the first few noises of the monsters seeking out their prey.]
It has.
[His footsteps sound overloud in the narrow alleyway, but Clark pauses a short distance away, turning to look at Bruce. He probably doesn't need to speak, the straightening of his ( ... )
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It's a tongue, he recognizes almost immediately. A long, dripping tongue- poison, given the way it's bubble against the floor. Bruce's lips draw backwards, and he reaches down. One hand against the floor and he flips himself over, into the air, legs curled inward to his chest. He draws out the knife hidden in the sole just in time to land right behind the monster.
Strikes at it with the knife. Deliberately slow, and watches as it barely manages to dodge- and the tongue is heading out again- towards Clark.
Meanwhile, he's shoving the knife into the shoulder of the thing. ]
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At the flash of tongue toward him, Clark's gaze snaps right to it, unmoving from his spot and bursting flame down the length of flesh until it recoils with a painful roar. Furious, the long-tongued Darkness monster rounds on the closest man to it again, flailing its almost useless arms out at its attacker.
In turn, Clark moves closer, so that he might better examine the residue left behind by that tongue. It doesn't look like something he wants to touch, honestly ( ... )
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The thing screams, completely inhuman and not even sentient, charging at him and this time when he stabs it, the knife sinks straight into the throat. He yanks it out at the side, spraying blood and gore and splattering it against the wall. It sways a little, and crashes to the floor.
Bruce lids his eyes, breathes quietly as he flicks the knife, cleaning it of the blood. Then, he bends down and slips the knife right back into the boot.
His mind is already moving, shifting to think of what Clark did. That blast of heat vision... very much controlled, very quick. Is it just the leaps, then? His control over gravity? ]
Don't touch the thing with your bare hands
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Urgh. Wouldn't dream of it.
[Of course his control of his heat vision is very precise, adjustable to different materials, narrowed, directional. It's one of the things he's had to practice the most to ensure it causes no accidental harm to anyone, and he takes its use extremely seriously. He approaches to have a closer look.]
You're used to fighting things like that.
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When he has the equipment, he'll examine them. And he will find the equipment somehow.
At those words, he turns, cocking his head to the side. ]
You'll be surprised what the world can throw at you after a decade or so.
[ Monstrous sentient starfish who latch on the faces of humans and take control of them, for one. He shrugs, and glances at Clark. ]
You're staying at the Tower Apartments still.
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Not that surprised. Just that what it decides to throw at me is usually at least humanoid. [A wry smile.] Haven't had any gruesome, slimy monsters in a while.
[It's been almost a decade of fighting for him, too, but Bruce will pick up on that eventually.]
Doesn't seem much point in going elsewhere. What about you?
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Really. A competent Oliver Queen. He has never seen it happen. ]
I'm staying out. [ Partly that, and partly because Carrie has a few safehouses that he can bunk at. Like hell is Batman going to live at the Apartments when it's Bruce Wayne's name on the list. ]
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And I have some reading to do.
[But as much as he means to go straight back, he can hear them. People trapped out in the Darkness, workplaces and apartment blocks locked down after the darkness proofing failure last week. Someone's voice saying: Quiet. It's coming this way. He looks distant, his eyes fixed on the wall of the building opposite, but far away.]
Maybe a little longer wouldn't hurt.
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He has these abilities for a reason. ]
I doubt that reading is as important as this. [ He jerks his head to where Clark is trying to listen. ]
Go. The other end is mine.
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