"This is not where I went to sleep," Kon-El announced to the room, more for the sake of saying something than because he thought he'd get an explanation from the giant kernels of popcorn surrounding him. There hadn't been any popcorn where he'd gone to sleep, he was sure of it. And he hadn't been covered in what smelled like the 'butter' that got
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He was a bit surprised when he was directed down an unfamiliar passageway, to an open door at the end of the hall. "You sure about this?" he muttered. Shrugging at the affirmative, he stuck his head in the door. "Okay, Fido, I know you're in here. I don't have time for this and - holy crap, Steph wasn't kidding about the popcorn," he finished. Jaime looked all around, taking in the myriad cases of popcorn kernels, the plaque, the supposedly dead superhero covered in butter...
Wait a second ( ... )
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"Hey!" Kon tried shaking his arm to see if that dislodged any butter. When it didn't, he looked up at the guy and waved. This was probably plan C: act like the butter thing is completely intentional. "Got a towel?"
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Oh. Butter. He'd laugh if it wasn't so surreal. Reality kicked in, and Jaime spread his hands, indicating his still snow-dusted coat and boots and total lack of anything resembling a towel. "Sorry, not on me. I know where to get some, though." His brain seemed to be rebooting. Something seemed... off. "This may sound kinda nuts, but - last time you checked, what was the date?"
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At the gesture to the... snowy... coat and boots, Kon frowned. "June, 2002." Specific dates weren't something that entered Kon's world all that much. It wasn't like he went to school or had a normal job, so he'd have to write down the date or look at it every day. "I can go as specific as 'Tuesday.'" Snow =/= June. What. The. Hell.
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But the sight of Kon-El seemed to give him a start. He turned around and put a hand on the pommel of his sword. Wolfram's eyes grew wide as he stared at the other boy, and he put his free hand protectively by his own temples when he finally spoke.
"Who are you? Who attacked you? Why did they attack your hair? Why did they only get the sides?"
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"Superboy, no one attacked me, and shut up, my hair is awesome." Kon crossed his arms. If the guy meant the hand on his sword as a threat, well - Kon wasn't worried about that. "I've got my own style."
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"Why are you in the Hall of Popcorn? Do you have a nefarious scheme? For nefarious purposes?" The blond hoped so, he was cantankerous and bored.
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Now, there's an image for the slashers. Bart and Kon, both covered in oil, Bart gleefully embracing his friend. "Welcome back!"
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And then there is the sound of someone being unpopped. His head snaps up and his gaze locks on to his old friend.
In that stupid freaking jacket.
"Superboy."
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Oh, great, the Batman. This, he needed. Kon crossed his arms and did his best to grin like he wasn't intimidated. Or at least like he still hadn't lost his dignity to the buttery stuff. "Wow. You're definitely the greatest detective in the world."
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"Here." He whips out his wand and waves it quickly. A towel appears, just for the young man. "Try to make yourself look respectable."
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She tried to concentrate on the positive meetings, though, and thus followed her nose to the unpopped person, intending to introduce herself.
But when she saw who the new student was, Steph could only manage one reply.
"Holy shit!"
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Okay, Brown. Reign it in. Being covered in butter is disorienting enough for a person! "Surprise is right! Hi!" There! Hi. Hi was good. "It's good to see you!"
They didn't know each other all that well, but it was always nice to find out someone wasn't dead!
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