(no subject)
As a kid, Clark had wanted nothing more than to be normal. To be your average, nothing special child from Smallville, Kansas, worried about football and book reports rather than sinister corporations and unlikely villains. The times he'd been afforded the opportunity had always come at a price, though, and the few pleasant moments he'd squeezed from those opportunities had always been bittersweet in the end.
People got hurt. Sometimes, people died.
A month on the island does nothing to take the sting out of being helpless in the face of a crisis, not even when he's seemingly surrounded by other superheroes in the same power-free boat. All things considered, last week's trouble had been handled as efficiently and admirably as possible, and it bothers him none that he'd not been the one to execute that plan and save the day. It does bother him intensely, however, any time he sees someone who was injured or when he thinks about the man forced to sacrifice his life for all the rest of them and his mind wanders off to what if. Clark would have done the same in an instant, he gets it. The nobility of the act isn't at all lost on him, and he's incredibly grateful for the swift actions of the people who saved them all. But the mantle of responsibility he's had placed upon him since he was a teenager is not so easy to shake. He sees scratches and bruises and feels as though he's failed these people, despite the fact that he couldn't help it and that, for all intents and purposes, they hardly even know him.
His own scratches and bruises from when he'd first arrived are nearly completely healed now, only a scant twinge in his ribs when he laughs too hard, and the gash on his forehead a fresh, pink scar. Since he discovered the state of the Green Arrow Estates, he's been formulating a plan for its rebirth, and now more than ever he feels the need to put that plan in motion, some small atonement for his impotence. The tools he'd discovered with his name on them the day after the space station incident had only further driven that idea home. Maybe destinies could change, and maybe now his was to serve the community in a different way.
Clark has built things before. Growing up on a farm had afforded him a thorough education on the basics of construction. Driving nails had been easier when he'd been superpowered, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to do it the normal way: Jonathan Kent's notions about character building aside, there had always been the need to appear like that nothing special kid he wished he was. He has the skills to manage this, and apparently also now has the tools, but instinct leads him first to research, and research leads him to books.
This is why he is presently seated at one of the long tables in the Compound's rec room surrounded by neat stacks of instruction manuals and periodicals: Books on carpentry, books on roofing, and most interestingly, travel magazines on the Maldives. Inspiration has to come from somewhere, and it makes perfect sense to him that a community of tropical huts bearing Oliver's name more resemble a fancy resort.
[OOC: Open to new threads through Monday. No limit. GIVE ME ALL YOUR PEOPLES. Do not worry about canon puncturing; he already knows. Find him in the rec room taking notes.]
People got hurt. Sometimes, people died.
A month on the island does nothing to take the sting out of being helpless in the face of a crisis, not even when he's seemingly surrounded by other superheroes in the same power-free boat. All things considered, last week's trouble had been handled as efficiently and admirably as possible, and it bothers him none that he'd not been the one to execute that plan and save the day. It does bother him intensely, however, any time he sees someone who was injured or when he thinks about the man forced to sacrifice his life for all the rest of them and his mind wanders off to what if. Clark would have done the same in an instant, he gets it. The nobility of the act isn't at all lost on him, and he's incredibly grateful for the swift actions of the people who saved them all. But the mantle of responsibility he's had placed upon him since he was a teenager is not so easy to shake. He sees scratches and bruises and feels as though he's failed these people, despite the fact that he couldn't help it and that, for all intents and purposes, they hardly even know him.
His own scratches and bruises from when he'd first arrived are nearly completely healed now, only a scant twinge in his ribs when he laughs too hard, and the gash on his forehead a fresh, pink scar. Since he discovered the state of the Green Arrow Estates, he's been formulating a plan for its rebirth, and now more than ever he feels the need to put that plan in motion, some small atonement for his impotence. The tools he'd discovered with his name on them the day after the space station incident had only further driven that idea home. Maybe destinies could change, and maybe now his was to serve the community in a different way.
Clark has built things before. Growing up on a farm had afforded him a thorough education on the basics of construction. Driving nails had been easier when he'd been superpowered, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to do it the normal way: Jonathan Kent's notions about character building aside, there had always been the need to appear like that nothing special kid he wished he was. He has the skills to manage this, and apparently also now has the tools, but instinct leads him first to research, and research leads him to books.
This is why he is presently seated at one of the long tables in the Compound's rec room surrounded by neat stacks of instruction manuals and periodicals: Books on carpentry, books on roofing, and most interestingly, travel magazines on the Maldives. Inspiration has to come from somewhere, and it makes perfect sense to him that a community of tropical huts bearing Oliver's name more resemble a fancy resort.
[OOC: Open to new threads through Monday. No limit. GIVE ME ALL YOUR PEOPLES. Do not worry about canon puncturing; he already knows. Find him in the rec room taking notes.]