antiparallel | [ Open Post ]

[ ooc: Continuation of this tfln thread. ]

[ Prime doesn't actually get much praise thrown his way for a job well done, considering his past and that he's still very new at the whole saving people instead of antagonizing them. It's why Bruce's simple acknowledgment of him has Prime beaming. ]

Yeah? Told you it was fast. [ He turns his attention towards the destroyed equipment, frowning. ]

So what happened? Did that explode or…?

Unauthorized guest used the teleporter.

[ Which is all he's giving by way of an explanation. Some of the equipment is smashed from the fight. But there's one piece very deliberately exploded. ]

Once I got him out I had to stop him from simply teleporting back in. [ Now it's just a matter of figuring out how he used the teleporter in the first place. ]

Shit, that's not too good.

[ The last thing they need is a possible villain sneaking in and creating havoc in a space station. If it got damaged, only a handful of heroes and Prime himself would survive the decompression. Time ago he would absolutely not cared, but he's a changed man now. ]

I'm going to assume that you're going to stay here working on this instead of resting after getting injured because that's your whole shtick. I can stay close, just in case someone else comes. Or I can assist you in whatever detective job you are doing. Maybe my enhanced vision can help you find clues or warn you about electromagnetic signals. I can see those.

[ Please let him be useful :( ]

Edited 2026-03-26 17:01 (UTC)

[ No one is coming through the teleporter. At least not right now. Bruce made sure of that. He had to bring systems back online, get the teleporter working and make sure their unwanted guest couldn't reuse it. He pushes a console back into place while Prime offers his assistance. ]

It was Amazo. Make sure he hasn't left anything behind that will compromise the station.

[ Primes makes a small sound of displeasure. That guy's always bad news with his replicating powers. If he gets the speed force of the Flash, even he might have some issues dealing with him. ]

I'll have a look around then. [ Taking flight, Prime starts checking every room and surface of the station, making good use of his enhanced vision. It wouldn't take him much if he used his super speed, but he also wants to be thorough and even checks the outside of the station to make sure nothing unwanted is attached to its hull. He waves at Batman through one of the station's windows before coming inside again. ]

I didn't see or find anything. Do you think he might have dropped another virus here, like he Luthor did back then?

[ Bruce takes the time he's alone to get most of their teleportation systems back online. He sweeps the consoles for the security lapse that allowed Amazo to use the teleported unimpeded. He would have to close it and update protocols to keep this from happening again. The main teleporter, however, remains offline.

He's still working when Prime returns, the only evidence of his discomfort a rotation of his shoulder. ]

It's possible. He was already here when I arrived.

[ For how long, Bruce can only guess at since he hasn't had a chance to check security logs just yet. So far he hasn't found anything out of place. Right now he's patching networks, strengthening the screening process to keep this from happening again. ]

Perhaps he isn't working alone, or perhaps this is all a distraction to keep us busy. If his goal was to find how to neutralize the main teleporter in the first place, us blocking its use is as good as him breaking it.

[ Theories, theories...he can think of far too many, knows a bunch of tropes that could apply, but until they have more information, it's all just that: conjectures. ]

You look like you could use a break. I know I'm good, but my heat vision didn't really heal that injury. How about taking five?

[ It's possible. But all Prime gets in the way of an answer is a grunt. ]

I'm fine. I need to finish this.

[ He'll get it looked at when he's back in Gotham. ]

[ Still a much better answer than he usually gets, to be honest. At least the grunt is a form of acknowledgment. ]

Yeah, but what if your injured state compromises your ability to appropriately judge and finish what you are doing? [ Batman doesn't need an extra explosion in his face if the teleporter does explode, and he will probably be just as pissy if he accidentally messes up the security check. ] Come on, what would the Big Blue say about all this?

[ The other Superman, he means. Which is why Prime is going to imitate Clark's voice when he speaks next. It sounds, all things considered, pretty much like the other older self. ]

You're hurt; it's ok to take it easy.

It won't.

[ He's always fine when there's work to be done. He knows how to put things away, how to power through so he doesn't leave any ends loose. ]

If you want to help, send a message to the others.

Okay, if you say so.

[ He's not about to argue with Batman of all people. Primes then looks at the intact computer as if it's about to bite him and then takes a seat in front of it to start typing. ]

You sound very confident that they will believe whatever I tell them, even if it's the truth. They don't exactly trust me. Maybe I should just sign the message as 'Bats'.

[ Bruce glances at Prime before he resumes the security check. ]

I'm giving you temporary credentials. They'll believe you.

[ Or at least be curious enough to come investigate. ]

[ Ohhh neat. He has to resist the urge to give Bruce a thumbs-up. ]

Sweet. Thanks!

[ He will wait for those to be active and then write the message; it reads as follows: ]

Sup, everyone! We got a situation with the teleporters. Due to an unexpected Amazo visit, which has been already handled, they're disabled temporarily until further notice. The Watchtower has been checked to make sure nothing got messed with, but if you see something, say something. You know the drill.

If you desperately need to leave the premises, contact one of your super friends for assistance. Take care, everyone. Cheers!

[ Super professional, he will say so himself. ]

[ ooc: starter here 'You punched me last night, that's how you broke those two fingers.' ]

[ Not really, not over text. Try huffing in frustration the next time, and I'll hear! But your tsundere ways are noted ~~and ignored~~. ]

Ehhh, I trust you to try not to commit any blatant crime while I fix your hand. It can be a secret between us.

[ I did. And I also know better than to assume that you are one of the bad guys just because your approach to justice is different than that of the big grumpy bat. Be a doll and think of the fans; they're going to love this.

And since Jason's last reply sounds like an agreement, he's going to head back to Gotham. Flying sure is a helpful skill. ]

[yeah well. What have the fans ever done for him, huh. (Don’t tell him, he really doesn’t want to know.)

It’s noonish, which is basically what counts as breakfast time for the night crowd, and it’s what passes for a nice enough day in Gotham. None of the thick moody fog or dramatic miserable rain it tends to be known for. Sunny, the crisp kind of cool that comes at the start of spring. Perfect kind of weather for going about your day to day like a productive member of society.

Instead, Jason’s slouched his way out of bed and toward the light of day in slightly more of a state than usual. Mussed hair and circles under the eyes, the whole nine yards. He’s in loose civvies—sweats and a faded hoodie that’s starting to get ratty at the sleeves, and he’s busy leaning out a fifth-floor window with his forearms braced against the frame and his head and shoulders on the outside. Phone in one hand, a lit cigarette perched between the unbroken fingers left on the other.

Which is kind of like breakfast, if you squint.

Since he’s, y’know, Superman, Prime gets there before Jason even has the chance to finagle his grip around his phone for another suitably cranky sounding response. Assuming Prime has made good on his promise to approach from the front this time instead of sneaking up: his head lifts at the first flash of color at the edge of his vision.

He mostly just looks…extremely unimpressed about it. The Gotham City ambiance hangs in the air for a solid handful of seconds. Honking horns and distant sirens. Until, bone dry—]

That wasn’t actually an invitation, y’know.

[And yet!]

[ Not enough; that's what they have done. If I comforted him at all, Prime was just as unhappy about what happened ~~and the goddamn poll~~ as Jason would be if he knew the shit that went on back then. (Yeah, for once he's going to keep his mouth shut about that. Probably. That's more suited for a 3rd date conversation.

Even Prime knows that sun-ish days are as rare in Gotham as spotting a unicorn. He's quite enjoying it because he always feels more comfortable during daylight hours, where he doesn't need to worry so much about his powers getting drained. Being locked up next to Red Suns or in total darkness has left him with a bit of PTSD, which he is often ignoring.

Not only is he floating in front of the window a few feet away from it so he's perfectly visible to Jason, but he's also grinning at Jason from ear to ear like the confident idiot he is. He's backlit by the sun and it's rays are bouncing off the metal of his pauldrons and that curl that falls over his forehead,. Prime's thinking just how nice and cinematic this probably looks, because that's the sort of thing that often goes through his head. He's also holding a steaming Styrofoam cup. ]

Ah, but I brought you some tea.

[ Don't ask him how he knows Jason likes tea more than coffee. But if the grumpy bat wants an espresso just to be contrary, Prime could also go and fetch one real quick. He floats closer until he's within reach, holding out the cup as some kind peace offering, eyes looking at Jason up and down with interest, then at the cigarette. ]

That can't be healthy, you know. [ Not like Prime really minds the other smoking; it suits Jason's style and the whole rebel vibe, to be honest. He just likes to tug on Jason's metaphorical pigtails. ]

[He scoffs, derisive.]

Oh, sure. [He taps ash off the tip of the cigarette, pointedly.] About as healthy as hopping around on rooftops and gunning down gangsters gets to be.

[Come on, now.

It’s not good for him, especially in his line of work. Sometimes that’s kind of the point. (That if he’s going to get hurt, if his life is going to get cut short, at least it’s him that’s choosing to do it.) Still, he only really falls back on it on bad days—a comfort thing, or a control thing, or both.

It’s also an outside thing, apparently, because he scowls back out at Prime and then stubs out the end of the cigarette on the brick outside the window before he does anything else. The offered cup is greeted mostly with narrowing of his eyes. (In annoyance, or suspicion, or the fact that Prime has decided to Very Cinematically backlight himself against the sun, and he’s still shaking off the dull ache behind his eyes that he woke up with.)

Rather than reach for the tea, he ducks his head and pushes himself up and away from the window, like he’s making space.]

Get in here before someone sees you. Christ.

[As much as there is kind of some ironic appeal to knowing it’ll get under Batman’s skin to have Prime swinging around in his city under his nose and having tea with the family black sheep, he doesn’t need the headache that’ll come with it, thanks. (At least save the suspicion for when he’s actually up to something, huh, Bruce.)]

[ Prime's about to argue that gangsters might shoot back at you, but they won't give you a slow and painful pulmonary disease, yet he thinks better of it and just shrugs. Everyone has their vices and ways to unwind when they need comfort. For him it's comics, for Jason it's little cancer sticks. ]

Fair enough. Cigars do smell better than some thugs as well.

[ Since the offer of tea gets brushed aside, he expects to be further ignored or told to leave again. That's how 99% of the superhero community reacts to him, with Lois Lane —bless her— being the exception.

But there goes Jason, surprising him again and allowing him in his space. No matter if it's because he doesn't want to attract unwanted attention to his apartment or he truly does not mind Prime's presence, the result is the same. Which is to have the Kryptonian beaming at him once more, and following him inside like a floating puppy. He makes sure to get in there carefully and not to break anything, his feet finally touching the floor. Prime snickers at the 'Christ' complaint. ]

Name's Clark, actually. Not like many people call me that. [ Both because the original Superman is the one 'Clark Kent' people know best and because calling him 'Prime', like the designation of his original world, is another way to recognize him as an outsider. It's still his name, though, and he sometimes misses hearing it. He misses feeling like a person. ]

You could, if you wanted. [ He places the cup on the nearest surface he sees but still nudges it towards Jason. ] How's your hand?

[You know the answer to that, bud. He spreads his hands out in front of him in a halfhearted jazz-hands-y kind of way.]

Broken.

[Well, just the one. Part of the one. The last two fingers on his right hand are bruised and stiff, visibly colorful and clearly swollen, along with the knuckles. He’s been making a point not to move them, but he hasn't exactly gotten around to doing much about them. Probably should—it’s already been plenty annoying. (Less the pain—it’s not like the rest of him isn’t usually pretty banged up at any given time. There’s a baseline level of battered you get used to if you don’t have the benefit of invulnerability. But it does make fine motor control a lot less convenient.)

Getting them out of the range of the windows, he ducks deeper into the apartment. Hooks the leg of a chair out with a toe to drag it out from under the kitchen table so he can sprawl down into it and fix the steaming styrofoam with a suspicious glower when Prime sets it down. Eventually, he reaches to pry off the lid with his good hand. It takes about ten seconds and a whiff of bergamot before he seems to come to some kind of decision about it and take the first sip. (Drugging him or poisoning him or whatever would be a pretty convoluted angle of attack, at this point, so it’s pretty unlikely. Still. If he dies, he dies.)

He sets the cut down to prop himself up with a fist against his cheekbone, looking Prime—Clark—narrowly. Leading—]

What, not so fussed about the secret ID?

[ A snorts escapes him at the theatrics. ]

Yeah, that happens when you punch a Kryptonian in the face. It's incredible how many people don't realize that. [Look, I'm not going to feel bad about it; I just wanted to say hi, and you overreacted! Ok, perhaps I feel a tiny bit bad about it.

Prime looks over at Jason's hand, scanning it with his x-ray to check his fingers real quick, and then scrunches up his nose. Those are broken, alright. The fracture is clean, so they will probably heal fine in 3 weeks or so unless Jason jostles them while doing some vigilante activities like cutting mobsters' heads and the like.]

Putting some ice on it might help you with the inflammation.

[ He grabs a chair for himself, knowing better than to expect to be offered one, and then leans in to try and grab the wrist of Jason's injured hand because what is personal space or people's boundaries. He will let go if the other man fights him on this—he's expecting it too, if he's honest—, but if Jason doesn't react too badly, Prime's going to blow some of his ice breath towards the broken fingers. It's not enough to encase the hand in ice or anything of the sort, but it should work as well as putting an ice pack on it.

As for the tea, Prime knows many ways to kill someone that are quicker and less complicated than using poison. Why would he want Jason dead? Him coming back to life due to Prime altering reality is one of the few good things he's done in life; it set things right, even if it was a happy accident. ]

Nah, well, kinda... but only because I know I can't walk around Metropolis with that name and my handsome face before someone starts to wonder why I look like the other older Clark. At work, I told people to call me CK. [ Not the greatest alter ego, but he's working on it. He never had to hide himself before. ]

Do you have a medical kit, or should I make a quick trip to the nearest drugstore?

[Welcome to associating with bats, bud. Paranoia is a built in part of the process, and Jason’s nothing if not a big old tangle of trust issues. Lets be real—this whole adhoc house call from a near-stranger is making him twitchy enough as-is. He tips his head toward a cabinet.]

Bottom left door.

[In the kitchen for easy cleanup when things get messy. Bottom row to keep in reach on a particularly bad day. The whole stash seems recently used but generously stocked. So maybe this is one of the places he crashes more often than not.

He’s also always been touchy about his personal space. And he’s very deeply aware, as Prime reaches for his wrist, that a Kryptonian could easily up and pulverize the little bones there just by twitching too hard. (Break it with a twist. Tear the whole arm out at the socket by way of a badly-timed sneeze. You know. The works.)

But since kneejerking is, in fact, kind of what got him into this situation, he makes the counterintuitive decision to keep obstinately still. Schools down the impulse to jerk back immediately, though he definitely tenses. Drops his good hand down to the table, sits up straight. Watching sharply, like he’s poised to react as soon as something seems fishy.

His reflexes still try to twitch away, a little, at the cold. Fingers curling protectively in on reflex and sending sparks of fresh hurt stabbing up his nerves as the bruising and the broken bones remember to assert themselves, and the simmering ache sparks back up into real pain. (Ow.)

His jaw shifts, teeth pressing tense, goosebumps crawling up his arms at the sudden cold, nausea creeping up his spine. Not wrong, though. Some ice will get the swelling down, and it’s this or the freezerburned peas in his temperamental fridge, and he’s not even actually all that sure his freezer is working, right now.]

Oh, yeah, great cover. No way they’ll ever figure that one out.

[Doesn’t take a genius to go from CK to Clark Kent if they’re already suspicious. But look, there’s plenty of people named Clark in the world. Whatever. He’s just being difficult.]

[ ooc: starter here ' I’m definitely the disappointment of the hero community, but also the hottest, so I can see why I got them pressed.']

[ Very lucky indeed. Prime's glad he's got people like Supes or Lois who are willing to give him another chance after everything he's done. Even if his methods of doing good are a bit unconventional. ]

I mean, you could change people's with the right powers or tools...but mental manipulation is not something I liked even in my worst moment. I get what you mean. I would not be truly earned otherwise.

I don't mind hard work. Nothing has ever been easy; I'm used to it.

...

and what if I fail again?

[ He wants to leap forward, all but put his foot down on the first sentence of it. Whatever holds him back, whatever lets him hear the rest of what Prime has to say, and find some--if yet not quite easy--relief in it. Hope... that must be it. ]

You'll see these things hold when you build them up right.

[ It's hard not to think back on that "worst moment" so Superman shakes his head of it, figuratively, and briefly literally. ]

It might happen. [ All too likely it will, but-- ] We both know you aren't just going to roll over.

[ While Prime has no wish to go back to how he was before, he can't quite help the fact that he understands the train of thought of the people without scruples. It does bring some nasty intrusive thoughts to his mind every now and then, but it also can give him an advantage towards villains from time to time. ]

Yeah, but the problem is the foundation here. Mine's not so good.

[ He's not so good, he means, even if he wants to be. You can't build a house with a cracked foundation. Frankly, there had been so many past bad moments that it's even hard for Prime to pinpoint the absolute worst, but killing both Earth-2 Superman and Conner Kent is sure at the top of the list.

Ah, but that's enough self-pity for now; Superman doesn't need to deal with that. ]

No, of course not. I might be many questionable things, but I'm also stubborn like that. That's also what heroes do, right? They never give up.

[ Unlike Superman, who can't fathom the minds of Lex Luthor and the like. It isn't a difficulty he particularly wants to overcome, yet, looking at Prime, he knows what someone like him--he--could do. While far from understanding, it's not like he can forget about it, and it makes the cracks in that foundation feel like a gaping chasm. How to fill and fix them--? ]

You can work on that, too.

[ It's hard not to say 'we' when that's how Clark often argues, but equally as difficult to make himself look at Prime and think it, still. And then he's just thankful for the change in tone invited by him. ]

Right. But Prime-- [ Of course, there's another but. ] --heroes also listen to what others want. You can be determined, but if someone needs more time, that's it.

[They all have their niches; it's probably better that way. The world needs more people like Superman than it needs folks like Prime.

I suppose. I wasn't always...like that, you know. [ Not so messed up, he means, but having your whole universe destroyed and then being trapped in limbo for an eternity with a Luthor for company does things to someone's sanity.

That's ok too; Prime isn't Clark's problem or responsibility, and just talking helps enough. He wants to argue that with all the retcons and changes, most of the people he once killed are once again alive, but he knows now that it's not a very good argument.]

'Don't be pushy', got it. I think I will manage. What's the worst that could happen that hasn't happened yet, anyway?

[ ooc: Starter here. ]

You're so right.

Oi. I'm making honest attempts. Not all of us can be extremely charismatic journalists who clock people immediately.

I guess I can do that, if she ever comes to the comic store again. She seemed a bit embarrassed by the end of our conversation.

Not even most of my colleagues can manage that. It's my burden to bear.

Well, keep an eye out for her. She probably will, especially if she's got a pull list or whatever they're called.

Truly, you live such a difficult life, but I believe you can soldier through.

I'm surprised you know what a pull list is! But good point. And perhaps she might have some friend who could be interested in dating guys.

You'd be amazed at the random pieces of knowledge you pick up over the years as a journalist.

Sounds like a decent starting plan. What are you even interested in, dating-wise? Other than just "women." That's too broad.

Oh, such as? Knowledge about geography and politics, I can imagine that you already have, but what else? Spying skills, too?

[He's honestly curious.]

Well, it's not even just women, for starters. I like people who are kind but who also aren't afraid to speak their mind or stand up for others. Laurie was like that.

And I guess someone who would not be afraid of me.

Okay, apropos of nothing else, I'm a little curious why you jumped right to spying skills.

That's a good quality to look for in a person. The first one, I mean. Probably the second too, but that's more because it would be deeply fucked up if you did want someone who's afraid of you, and I'd have to stop giving you advice.

That was just an idea that came to my mind, since journalist are sort of detective too. Don't worry about it :)

[Totally not because other versions of her have dabbled in espionage before and he's aware of it, no ma'am.]

I think so too. It's a pity that kindness seems to be in short supply nowadays.

[ She can't see him, but he's grimacing at that last bit. Too familiar a flaw, even if that was his old self. ]

No. I don't enjoy being in a relationship with someone who's scared of me; that's awful for everyone involved. It would not be fair or real.

Yeah, well, there's assholes everywhere. Doesn't mean we have to be like them.

[Admittedly she can be kind of grating herself, but Lois doesn't think that prevents her from being kind.]

I don't think you have too much to worry about. If you're already having Keira Knightley fan sessions, you're probably not giving off a super intimidating vibe.

True. 'Be the change you want to see in the world' yadda, yadda...a bit cheesy, but the right kind of view.

[ She's got personality; that's a big part of why Prime likes her. ]

Great, thanks, Lois. [ That's good to know, especially considering how he once wore a yellow ring lantern. Perhaps he really isn't a lost case. ] Maybe next time I can broaden other subjects. Maybe even talk about Keanu Reeves or something. [ That's a joke, kinda. ] How did you get so good at this?

Nothing wrong with a limited amount of cheesy, under the right circumstances.

[If she felt otherwise she couldn't keep dating Clark.]

I'm naturally good at everything. Little-known fact about me.

Aww, look at you, a romantic at heart.

[ He is too, probably all the Clarks are, even if he tries to act nothing like it.]

You should put that in your autobiography. I'd read it. Title it 'Lois Joanne Lane: the bestest ever'.

[ Open Post ]

Closed to | theknightshift

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TFLN | Closed to tirejacked

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thanks for the lack of email for this, dw

TFLN closed to | colorsofhope

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Closed to | @frontpagenews

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