A Better Tomorrow

☀️Superman 2025 , post movie , written by evee ☀️

– Resident Kryptonian , investigative reporter , and superhero – 3 years into his formal hero career , still quite green – About 28 , 6'4" , 240lbs – Wants to live the full human experience – What did they feed him in Kansas? Cornbread and Ma's pie. – Trusting , stubborn , patently kind – Gets stuck holding open doors // "ma'am" and "sir" – Says things like "darn it" , "shoot" , "swell" , "golly" , "gosh" – Preserving life and minimizing damage is the name of the game – Acts of service are his love language to the planet and her denizens

Even with a few of his powers back, he wished that he had all of them back.

Well, in any case he supposed that he could bide his time a bit more.

Clark stared at his coffee mug, a red glow to his iris' and the contents just starting to steam. Heat vision really was useful for cutting down on electric bills - he knew it would look odd from the outside, but he had also gotten used to spending time around people who knew what he could do. He'd sort of forgotten that his new roommate and everyone else had no idea.

☀️-- It was the itching that had woken him. Something behind his eyes that was familiar and foreign at the same time.

He couldn't try closing his eyes or cinching down on the output in time --

A hole was blasted through the ceiling, burning wood and melting metal and plaster and anything else it came in contact with. Spilling forth in a way he couldn't recall since he was quite young and had no control over it. It hurt too. Hurt so much. He didn't need enhanced senses to smell the flesh around his eyes starting to singe and burn.

Then it stopped and he felt exhausted. He couldn't see anything, it was all blank. Blowing through all of his energy reserves, temporarily blinding himself, and he had no doubt that he looked like absolute hell with his is skin smelled.

Clark was fairly certain that he hadn't experienced this lack of control since he was about ten or eleven. Way back when the power has first developed.

He was gasping, chest heaving. The ringing that had started in his ears was a piercing noise but as if faded he... could hear conversation. Clinking of cutlery. Radio chatter - radio waves.

Everything. Everywhere.

unpopular opinion

ooc. The no kill rule assumption that people make about Clark is actually wrong. He will absolutely kill if there is no other option available. It's an absolute last resort and he will exhaust every other avenue prior... but if it comes down to it, he'll do it.

He's shown multiple times that he's willing to go all out or resort to extremes when nothing else is working. It's not something he WANTS to do and it's literally the LAST last choice, and is something he will circumnavigate so long as there are still other alternatives to try, but if he has to, he will kill. It isn't like Batman with his no kill rule, Clark just has a no kill preference and it's sort of turned into being treated as a no kill rule.

unpopular opinion

ooc. I feel like "Kal-El" should be used sparingly and only by certain characters in general media surrounding Superman. As important as both Kryptonian and Earth identities are to Clark as a character, he almost certainly has a preference for being called Clark in 99% of all situations. Piggybacking off of my last post, he doesn't know Krypton. He has limited tangible connection with that part of his history broadly speaking. He also seems to use "Kal-El" primarily as a manner of separating "Clark Kent" from "Superman" even further. So it feels weird to have close friends like Diana and Bruce referring to him as Kal even if only occasionally.

unpopular opinion

ooc. Not so much an opinion as commentary on some stuff I've seen recently. I've seen discourse about particularly new DCU "giving Clark a reason to hate Krypton" or "reject his Kryptonian heritage" but no?? That's not it at all what the message from Jor-El and Lara or the replacement of their holograms with footage of the Kent's at the end of the film represents at all.

It isn't making him "reject" his heritage, it's Clark getting the intrinsic motivation to do what he does as opposed to using the extrinsic motivation of "my birth parents wanted me to help people". It's him really embracing that cosmically he might have come from Krypton and is biologically related to Lara and Jor-El, but his home and his parents are Earth and the Kent's.

☀️-- The city was enveloped in a perpetual twilight. The sun never set. Not completely. It made everything odd, it made it difficult to sleep, difficult to orient himself on a biological level. It was strange. Bizarre. Clark had experienced something similar when visiting the Arctic Circle, he had experienced on some of the chances where he'd gone off world to a planet where days were longer or shorter of the sun acted differently from Earth. It was nothing quiet like this, however. Here, in this instance, the shutters and curtains didn't exactly block out the light. It had been very disorienting.

The White Nights made him feel fuzzy. Maybe that had to do with the fact that he wasn't able to feed off of the Isles' sun. It didn't rejuvenate or power him. It just bothered him. It threw him off. And that felt disturbing somewhere deep down. It didn't exactly help that the hours at The Aevum Daily were reduced and he had to find other things to do with his time. Well, other things aside from what he'd usually be busy with considering that he didn't have his powers either. It was at least a little funny, he supposed. He spent his entire life wanting to be human, wanting to fit in, but then when he finally did, it unnerved him instead… In fact, so far he'd actually found himself just a little jealous of those who had been here before him and already regained their powers.

Or maybe it was just that he was awake when he shouldn't be and couldn't seem to sleep properly with the constant light. That could also be it. That probably was it.

Clark sighed, leaning against the townhouse balcony railing with a coffee mug in hand. He looked out. Up. It was still light out. Twilight until the sun properly rose into the sky again. He couldn't deny that it was beautiful though. The sun caught on the trees and the windows in a way that was often short-lived before night came. Yet right now it was constant. The ever-present twilight was bright, but not as bright as daylight. Nor was it as dark as it should have been.

His eyes dropped down slightly. His gaze fell to the watch that was still around his wrist. He hadn't even taken it off, in fact, he'd yet to change out of his work clothes at all.

"Oh geez, is that the time?" he muttered to himself.