(no subject)
Anartica
He had to have one.
You can't be Superman without one.
A Fortress of Solitude, carved out of ice, ready and waiting for... what?
Clark has spent some time pondering it, and he's no closer to the answer. He has nothing here. Well, nothing except Charlie, and bringing her into a building made of ice might not be the best idea. However, a close examination of his landing spot did reveal the first two pieces of memorabilia for his secret home. The remains of his sun forcing armor, no longer needed now that he's under his own home sun. And a yellow ring with accompanying lantern. Sinestro insisted he have one, despite not needing it. Still, it looks good where it is.
A quick trip to Paris added a third item. A piece of the Eiffel Tower, melted into slag by a fierce heat. He can't help but smile, looking over it. And then it's back home.
Cooper Farm
Perhaps too quickly. He seems to have pulled a touch of the artic wind with him, a small patch of grass frosting over as he lands. He pauses, looking about him, his face impassive as usual. There is so much he could do... but what should he do?
((OOC:Feel free to intercept Clark at any point in his journey.))
He had to have one.
You can't be Superman without one.
A Fortress of Solitude, carved out of ice, ready and waiting for... what?
Clark has spent some time pondering it, and he's no closer to the answer. He has nothing here. Well, nothing except Charlie, and bringing her into a building made of ice might not be the best idea. However, a close examination of his landing spot did reveal the first two pieces of memorabilia for his secret home. The remains of his sun forcing armor, no longer needed now that he's under his own home sun. And a yellow ring with accompanying lantern. Sinestro insisted he have one, despite not needing it. Still, it looks good where it is.
A quick trip to Paris added a third item. A piece of the Eiffel Tower, melted into slag by a fierce heat. He can't help but smile, looking over it. And then it's back home.
Cooper Farm
Perhaps too quickly. He seems to have pulled a touch of the artic wind with him, a small patch of grass frosting over as he lands. He pauses, looking about him, his face impassive as usual. There is so much he could do... but what should he do?
((OOC:Feel free to intercept Clark at any point in his journey.))