Tags: clark kent (superman)

happy ⋙ frienddly

Drunk Clark is a Bad Idea, Paradisa

[Generally speaking, Clark never has to worry about getting drunk. He is, after all, Kryptonian, and his liver basically laughs in the face of alcohol. On top of that, in the past, Paradisa has never overridden that natural immunity. Generally he wouldn't pay any heed to New Years' because of it.

Oops, not this year.

And that, dear residents, is why Clark Kent seems off when he appears around a corner and actually clips the wall in the process. This is what that looks like, for the curious.

And then he'll be picking himself up, laughing.]
confident ⋙ the daily planet

(no subject)

I don't know how many of you remember the summer when the outposts were built, but for those of you who weren't here, I'll explain.

The outposts were started so that we'd have a place close to the border for both travel and observation. The project was spearheaded by Asano Rin, a young woman who still leads a lot of excursions out into the Dead Zone, and Tony Stark, a tech genius who is no longer in Paradisa. Four of the five outposts were built on the powered side, so actually putting them up didn't take very long. Cassie, Kon and I put together the better part of two of them in just under a month, and a bunch of us put up the West Outpost in a matter of days when there was a crisis in Eldritch and we needed a place closer to the border to work from. These things were built to last; outposts that could double as bunkers, if necessary, but otherwise served as shelter and food and supply resources for anyone traveling out towards the border.

On Sunday night, the four outposts inside the Castle's zone went up in flames when someone –– presumably the two who let Joshua Christopher loose –– set up and set off explosions inside them. Because of how these outposts were built and set-up, I want to point out that attacking the outposts served no strategic purpose whatsoever. No one lives out there full-time and no one was out there at the time. The damages are cosmetic at worst, because Tony didn't design these things to be taken out by a couple explosions, and anything we had out there can be replaced. And even if it was more serious, how much would it actually set us back? We still have the blueprints and plenty of other capable tech people, as well as a super-powered construction force. Nothing would stop us from rebuilding and getting back to status quo within a few months at absolute longest. They didn't even blow up the one outpost we have out in the Dead Zone, the one that we can't just rebuild at the drop of a hat –– the one that was probably the most important to us.

They also got into the Peace Patrol HQ and released a prisoner, but they only released one and then set off the alarms. They didn't get into the computers, or any of the files Tony left. They could have done a lot more than that, but they didn't.

We didn't really know they were here, but suddenly a flare goes up and they take off, but not without informing us that they were here. If they'd just gotten up and snuck off, we wouldn't have known at all. They decided to make a big show of their departure.

It feels more like a message than a co-ordinated attack, and an arrogant one at that. Yes, they got in and were here for over a year, but what do they actually know about us that they couldn't glean from reading the journals? Who here was friends with Nancy or Zeke and let anything they wouldn't already know from having originally been here slip?

Just an observation.

Collapse )

Collapse )
awkward ⋙ confused

dorky as fuck

[Clark had woken up this morning in the exact same way he usually did. He had gotten up, showered, gotten dressed, had breakfast with the fiancée, fed the dogs, all those good things... but sometime in the early afternoon he experienced a vast change in thought process. For some reason -- which surely had nothing to do with the castle -- he decided to change into a nondescript navy suit with the world's most boring tie, and don those thick-rimmed black spectacles he had kept in his room for so long but not bothered wearing all that often. He certainly looks a little different –– part of it is the suit being one size to big, masking his bigger build as being a lot more out of shape, and the other part is the hunched shoulders, the ridiculously quiet demeanor, and the fact that he's no longer going to be meeting many eyes.

And the armful of books doesn't help. For some reason he decided to return all his library books today, and they're stacked precariously in his arms. It's like the bumbling idiot doesn't know how to move in his own body.

Bump into at your leisure, residents of Cair Paradisa.]
calm ⋙ completely honest

Three Years

[Three whole years. Plus two days. Oops.

It feels strange to know that he's been here for three years, but stranger that it's been a full, consecutive year since he's been home. He's so used to bouncing between home and Paradisa at least twice a year. Even when he's at home, he's always going from one place to another.

But you accumulate a lot of stuff in three years, and despite not being a material person, Clark's closet has become some sort of weird museum of random things. Most of which was shoved to the side and back when Lois moved in almost a year ago. There isn't much incentive to get rid of old stuff when you don't see it, and the castle complicates things by making the damned closet eternally deeper and deeper to accommodate all the STUFF.

So Clark is spending his three-years-and-two-days-iversary cleaning out the closet. And not at super-speed.

He is currently holding up a stuffed animal, not that the castle at large can see it. He doesn't sound impressed.]

Huh. I have no idea how I have so much stuff. I don't even like collecting things.

[Sound of a cardboard box being opened, and then, almost surprised:]

I didn't think I owned this many capes.
calm ⋙ completely honest

(no subject)

I'm quickly thinking I'll just be a juvenile parole officer, seeing as the opportunity comes up often enough.

[Kidding, mostly. Moving right along, though still pretty chill:]


I've wondered a lot why this place lets us get away with finding things out -- after all the distractions and losses and trips to weird places, we still get to remember what we discover. If the castle really wanted us to stay here, wouldn't it take away those memories? But then I realized that it does, bit by bit.

I've been reading through old entries, especially the stuff from back in Fairfield and Winchester. The thing about knowledge is that everyone brings something worthwhile to the table. No matter who they are, if that person leaves, that information or experience is lost. Someone else might be able to fill in parts of the gap, but something is always lost.

Of the hundreds of people in this place, only 28 remember Fairfield and Winchester. Since it's been two years since then, a lot of those people have probably forgotten details, or contexts, or what exactly was said. We only have the journals as reliable testimony now. I wonder half the time if we even have our stories straight about them.

If some of these First Gens have been out there for decades and they don't even use the journals, I can't even imagine how unreliable their take on us and the castle must be by now.
superman ⋙ super family


[Superman has been on the backburner a little. Clark hasn't been in the suit for a battle in some time, and he's never worn it in daylight –– that moment will probably come soon.

Not that the suit matters, with so many other things on his mind. Flying above the city, having headed out straight from the "office", Clark's mind is in so many places: the civilians in both the castle and the city, heroes in all corners with all sorts of motives and personal moral guidelines, villains prepared to do anything and likely to lash out harder when backed into a corner. There are loved ones to fret over, buildings to protect from too much damage, and endless co-ordination plans to consider. Plans that will probably be forgotten in the name of improvisation, Clark is sure.

Down below, the townspeople forming mobs in the city look like little pinpricks, and Clark knows that each of them is feeling the tug of mind control. The psychics will handle that. Meanwhile, he's headed to deal with Riful.

Or he would be dealing with Riful, if he wasn't encountering Hank, instead.]

[ooc: Hank vs Yuki + Clark.]
wild wild west dawg


Collapse )

Collapse )

Collapse )

Collapse )

Collapse )

Collapse )

[ ooc; Villains feel free to threadhop. It is encouraged! ICM is open to all villains currently in the area but Clark will be eavesdropping from afar! Like 10 miles afar, so he shouldn't be noticed until later. (Jenn, hop a comment/action in wherever you'd like♥) ]
awkward ⋙ confused

(no subject)

[Krypto and Shelby both growl as Clark opens the door, and Clark kneels to greet both dogs. When Krypto comes over, though, Clark's tone shifts from concern to surprise. There's a moment where he's checking out the room, and then he grabs both a piece of metal from the floor and the journal from his pocket.]

Hey. My dog had a scrap with the people who trashed the place. I've got parts of their armor.