[He nods, puzzling over words for a second.] Hub makes. People lost. Um... di. Dimensions? [He frowns, realising he's not sure the right way to express the idea of alternate dimensions properly.] Many. Many dimensions.
Good to meet. Clark Kent. [He shakes Clark's hand, very careful not to squeeze too hard, but his grip is still abnormally strong, especially considering how skinny he is.] This One is. Called Subject One. [He smiles, hoping to alleviate some of the confusion his name usually causes.] Can say just One. Shorter.
[Clark feels that too-strong grip, and it makes him look very interested. Curious. So does the name, which also makes him frown a little, but he doesn't comment.] Nice to meet you, too, One. Say, do you know a place around here where a guy can get a good cup of coffee?
[He pauses to think and look around to make sure where he is, before nodding.] Yes. And waffles. [He pulls very gently on Clark's hand to lead him to the waffle house he likes, he knows they serve coffee, and the people who drink it seem to like it, though he hasn't drank any himself.] Here.
[Clark follows, looking One over as he goes, and looking around at the differences between this place and Metropolis. He knows the city pretty well by now, and things aren't...quite in the right place. This street should have been somewhere else, entirely. Curiouser and curiouser. This boy is the immediate puzzle though.]
Hungry? I haven't had breakfast yet, and I'd love some company. I have to admit, I'm feeling a little lost. [The boy certainly seems friendly, despite his difficulty with words. There's no real accent Clark can detect, so he's been operating on the assumption of some sort of speech issue or other special need, slowing his own speech down a little but not commenting.]
[He's used to the Hub being bendy, and hardly thinks it strange. But, he's also used to strangers getting confused and frustrated as he struggles to find the right words, Clark's lack of comment is appreciated. He smiles brightly at the offer.] Lost is. Normal. Here. This One could eat. Thank you!
Is this your universe? I mean, are you from here? [He opens the door for One and nods at the waitress before taking a seat in a booth instead of at the counter, for a little more privacy.]
No. [He says firmly, crawling into his seat.] This One is. From bad lab. Came here. Um. [He pauses and makes a gesture with his hands to mean 'poof' or 'suddenly']
Like me, then? Just appeared? [He gestures to the waitress for coffee, trying not to react visibly to the rest, though the hair is coming up a little on the back of his neck. Well, what did he expect, with a name like "Subject One," but you're just so... Small and vulnerable looking, acting, despite the strength. He's seen this kind of thing before - metahuman children are seen as a commodity in some circles.]
Can you tell me about the bad lab? If...if this is something that exists on my world, I want to do what I can to shut it down. I'm a reporter. If I can get the information I need, I can go to the public, and the authorities will have to act.
Yes. Just appeared.[He smiles, those are the words he was looking for.]
The lab... Um. [He pauses, frowning.] Wanted soldier. Maybe. This One... not human. Bad tests. [He curls up and hugs his knees to his chest.] Lights. And needles. Bad things. Little glass cage-room.
[The waitress comes with coffee. Clark greets her with a friendly smile and tells her what he wants.] Two pecan waffles, three eggs, overeasy, cheese grits, and triple hashbrowns smothered, covered, diced, peppered and capped. And a large glass of milk, please. What would you like, One?
...Sorry?
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Anything dangerous going to pop up and attack us soon? [That's how this sort of thing usually goes, in his experience.]
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No. No bad here. [He states firmly. Though it isn't entirely true, he still believes it with all his heart.]
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[He holds his hand out and introduces himself.] I'm Clark Kent. I work for the Daily Planet. Eh, that's a newspaper where I'm from. What's your name?
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Hungry? I haven't had breakfast yet, and I'd love some company. I have to admit, I'm feeling a little lost. [The boy certainly seems friendly, despite his difficulty with words. There's no real accent Clark can detect, so he's been operating on the assumption of some sort of speech issue or other special need, slowing his own speech down a little but not commenting.]
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Can you tell me about the bad lab? If...if this is something that exists on my world, I want to do what I can to shut it down. I'm a reporter. If I can get the information I need, I can go to the public, and the authorities will have to act.
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The lab... Um. [He pauses, frowning.] Wanted soldier. Maybe. This One... not human. Bad tests. [He curls up and hugs his knees to his chest.] Lights. And needles. Bad things. Little glass cage-room.
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Do you know where it was? Who the people were?
[The waitress comes with coffee. Clark greets her with a friendly smile and tells her what he wants.] Two pecan waffles, three eggs, overeasy, cheese grits, and triple hashbrowns smothered, covered, diced, peppered and capped. And a large glass of milk, please. What would you like, One?
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