- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Slice of Life, Horror, Fandoms, Superheroes, Crime, Drama, Grit, Supernatural, Light Sci-Fi, Modern Era, Dark Themes
[fieldbox=Superman, #199CD8, solid, Times New Roman]
M E T R O P O L I S
When the earthquake hit, Clark hadn't known what to make of the situation and as the days wore on, ushered in and out by subsequent disasters, real hope had been hard to come by. Without the sun shining down on him, Clark wondered where the world would be without Superman, how many more lives would be needlessly lost if he were to be completely cut off from the sun—seeing Barry and Diana, and now Booster and Guy—he didn't have to wonder anymore. The League was still around, fractured, but not beaten and they were more than capable of carrying on.
Relief continued to come when Booster mentioned Batman and that was one less thing for Clark to worry about. Bruce knew how to handle things, take the emotion out of any situation and work through a problem until it was solved. He owed the other man more than he was ever permitted to say, but he was ready to meet up with the stoic man in black. "When was this?" he asked, hoping that Booster knew more than he was letting on.
The vibrations from the ground couldn't be ignored, however, and as Barry and Diana readied themselves for whatever was coming, Clark did the same. At the very least, an enemy would interrupt Guy's vulgarity before he wasted any more of his strength on an unnecessary punch to the redhead's face—Diana was a lady, and she didn't need to be sized up that way.
"Have you heard from Hal, by the way?" Clark asked, one eyebrow quirked in the Lantern's direction, "or John, maybe?" Hell, he'd have taken the pink alien over Guy without a muzzle any day.
Each small tremor soon became a thundering shake. Had it not been for the shiny blip on the horizon, Clark would have taken it for an aftershock, but the object continued to move closer, speeding right toward them in a flash of silver and a sickly green glow. It was different from that of any Lantern, no calming light that came from a construct, just evil and before Clark knew what hit him, Metallo's fist smacked straight into the shield on his chest. Clark gasped, his lungs struggling for air as the cyborg's green Kryptonite core loomed over him, illuminating the dozen or so floors they'd fallen through.
Every muscle in his weakened body ached, burned with such intensity that part of Clark wished for death, but he couldn't fail them now. As Metallo stood with one foot triumphantly on his chest, Clark reached out with a shaking hand, trying in vain to do something, anything while he still had the strength. His empty fingers brought back nothing, but a pained scream echoed from the bottom of the building as Metallo launched himself back up toward the roof.
Once there, his cold fingers grabbed for the first hero his programming recognized.
[/fieldbox]
M E T R O P O L I S
When the earthquake hit, Clark hadn't known what to make of the situation and as the days wore on, ushered in and out by subsequent disasters, real hope had been hard to come by. Without the sun shining down on him, Clark wondered where the world would be without Superman, how many more lives would be needlessly lost if he were to be completely cut off from the sun—seeing Barry and Diana, and now Booster and Guy—he didn't have to wonder anymore. The League was still around, fractured, but not beaten and they were more than capable of carrying on.
Relief continued to come when Booster mentioned Batman and that was one less thing for Clark to worry about. Bruce knew how to handle things, take the emotion out of any situation and work through a problem until it was solved. He owed the other man more than he was ever permitted to say, but he was ready to meet up with the stoic man in black. "When was this?" he asked, hoping that Booster knew more than he was letting on.
The vibrations from the ground couldn't be ignored, however, and as Barry and Diana readied themselves for whatever was coming, Clark did the same. At the very least, an enemy would interrupt Guy's vulgarity before he wasted any more of his strength on an unnecessary punch to the redhead's face—Diana was a lady, and she didn't need to be sized up that way.
"Have you heard from Hal, by the way?" Clark asked, one eyebrow quirked in the Lantern's direction, "or John, maybe?" Hell, he'd have taken the pink alien over Guy without a muzzle any day.
Each small tremor soon became a thundering shake. Had it not been for the shiny blip on the horizon, Clark would have taken it for an aftershock, but the object continued to move closer, speeding right toward them in a flash of silver and a sickly green glow. It was different from that of any Lantern, no calming light that came from a construct, just evil and before Clark knew what hit him, Metallo's fist smacked straight into the shield on his chest. Clark gasped, his lungs struggling for air as the cyborg's green Kryptonite core loomed over him, illuminating the dozen or so floors they'd fallen through.
Every muscle in his weakened body ached, burned with such intensity that part of Clark wished for death, but he couldn't fail them now. As Metallo stood with one foot triumphantly on his chest, Clark reached out with a shaking hand, trying in vain to do something, anything while he still had the strength. His empty fingers brought back nothing, but a pained scream echoed from the bottom of the building as Metallo launched himself back up toward the roof.
Once there, his cold fingers grabbed for the first hero his programming recognized.
[/fieldbox]