hang on to the glory at my right hand

[proxysearch]

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.

Comments

[isitablurred]

[And the wry smile slips back, just slightly.]

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 shoulders clearly saying behind you.]

[kingofrooks]

[ Clark's hearing and sight give him advantages, but Bruce has been used to fighting on the level of gods for the better part of a decade. He knows what that signal means, and he knows what is coming- and immediately ducks as something shoots towards him. He's dodging- here one sec, gone the next, and his cape flares outwards, protecting his skin (his armour really) from being hit by... whatever it is.

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. ]

[isitablurred]

[For the most part, Clark wants to stay back and leave the fighting to Bruce, and there's a simple reason for that: while Batman knows all his abilities, didn't even flinch at the name Jor-El, and is aware of even his weaknesses, Clark doesn't know much about him. But he can see that he's fast, now, dextrous and accurate, intelligent, making split second decisions quickly, and very, very strong, the way he springs so easily over; a lot more bendy and springy with his body than Clark is, half way between dancer and fighter.

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.

But there's something wrong. The warnings about the Darkness had been clear: there's always something out there stronger than you. They might not come across it tonight, but somewhere out there... Knowing his luck, probably something with kryptonite instead of blood. It wouldn't do to get too cocky.]

[kingofrooks]

[ It's flailing is far more slow than what he's used to fighting, and though Bruce knows that his body has weakened from the months-long stint e spent in Desaad's little torture chair, his instincts are still as sharp as ever. He reaches out and grabs it by the throat, flipping the knife over until he has it in a backhanded grip, using the blade and slash against the shoulder.

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.

[isitablurred]

[Sharp, forceful, and deadly. He has something of a new respect for Batman by the time he's done, and perhaps feels bad for the monster, but Clark is careful of skirting even the poison left on the floor, grimacing.]

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.

[kingofrooks]

[ Meanwhile, Bruce is slipping one of the reinforced plastic ziplocks and a tweezer. He picks off a piece of the tongue and drops it into the bag, then takes another piece - from the head this time - and drops it into another ziplock.

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.

[isitablurred]

[Even that is rather unpleasant to watch, but it reminds him of something Oliver might do. Know your enemy right? You had to when you weren't invulnerable.]

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?

[kingofrooks]

[ He would be so surprised to think that Oliver Queen has some sort of a brain in Clark's universe. In fact, it mght just be what tips him over into thinng that Clark is from a different place altogether rather than being from the past.

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. ]

[isitablurred]

[Well you can thank Chloe for being such a good influence, then. She keeps Oliver in check now.]

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.

[kingofrooks]

[ He looks at the changes in Clark's expressions; sees the way his eyes seem to glaze over as he listens to something else further away. Bruce's lips quirk up slightly- he's not surprised. There is a reason why he is actually heading out at night instead of going into a Darkness-proofed building.

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.

[isitablurred]

[Something he's learned through experience is that even if you can take the 'super' out of superhero, it's much harder to take the 'hero' out of it. He nods, takes another step with his shoulders bracing forward as though to move into superspeed, then hesitates.]

I'll be listening.

[It's as much of a 'call me if you need me' as he thinks he'll get away with without belittling Bruce's abilities, and the last thing he wants to do is offend him now. But it does mean ask for help if you need it and possibly run away from anything you can't handle all at once. Then without waiting for an answer he's gone, leaving only a stirring of mist and darkness and street-litter in his wake.]