#lastedson

"I can fly m'self jus' fine, jackass." Drake's tone held a scourge at the way he's being held by the back of his collar. Granted: it's deserved from being caught doing what he did to that gentleman back there with the knife to the leg. Drake got sloppy. He'll admit that he shouldn't even have gotten CAUGHT in the first place. Drake was used to doing this. HAD been doing this for multiple years. Guess just like before, doing things on his own was harder than Drake had anticipated. Drake knew he couldn't go back to the Misfits.

Not after what he's done. Memory foggy. Like he wasn't himself. He remembered walking... staggering. As if a zombie. People he hated tried to start an argument with him. Demanding him where the supplies for the run was and where he's been all day. Drake before without an immediate second thought rushed to violence.

He felt stronger. Better. No more could anyone tell him what to do. The twelve-year-old believed that anyway. It's been weeks after that incident.

Drake remembered going back to his old ways. To stealing money and food to just survive. Drake remembered taking anything and everything and stuffing it into his bag. He remembered trying to hide out in the grocery market and ended up getting singled out anyway. Then the pocketknife came out instead of the beams at first. Drake struggled immensely with the figure until more people tried to fight him off from stabbing the guy more to let go of him entirely.

Then this... guy he's never seen before immediately swooped in and yoinked him after Drake tried to fight him off. Red beams everywhere. Cutting anything in its path. Drake wasn't even purposefully TRYING to use the ring until the stronger arms tried to hold him down.

how odd it was, sometimes, to be a performer and a hero at the same time; for many to know both the often too-fantastical to believe was true performer, the man, and the new god. he remembered a time where there was an attempt to hide it all, to separate secret identity and the mask. nobody knew where he or his wife came from, simply living on earth as if the firepits of apokolips were not his norm just minimal years prior. it's when he looks at someone like superman--clark kent--that he has to wonder if he would ever combine the identities. they weren't too different, not at the concept. still, scott wouldn't push that topic, it really wasn't his place to. people were free to live how they made--scott should be the first to support it.

" --i don't suppose you might want to stop by for dinner! i dragged you out pretty late! there aren't too many places open right now, let alone serving dinner-style meals beyond one or two fast food places. "

...of which scott really questioned why the people of earth would allow themselves to consume so willingly. it felt like those nutrient blocks from granny's orphanage, ones that existed to take their brain and melt it to serve one purpose. sure it wasn't for darkseid, but--...well he wasn't completely sure about that, godfrey was still running amuck after all, all mister miracle knew was that he would never let his daughter eat that, just in case, just in case-

" i'm sure barda won't mind the extra company! i certainly don't. "

FIRST MEETING STARTERS — accepting !!

❝ s — ssu — su — ❞ he’s caught between saying ‘ sure ‘ and ‘ Superman ‘ .

❝I'm sorry, ❞ he smiles politely. ❝I know we've spoken before, but I don't believe I ever caught your name. ❞

they gave their own sort of polite expression as a briefly silent response towards the other. clark kent; some reporter that they had probably interacted with before but they really weren't sure. they knew that on occasion there were a variety of blurry photos floating around between news stations of their hero persona...but they weren't sure if the daily planet was one of them. they hadn't actively paid attention to that all to much, especially when they really weren't often in metropolis; they lived in gotham for a reason after all.

" oh-- um. it's taro. taro linneaus, nice to meet you um...sir...? " they held out a gloved hand and stared at his face, at the glasses, then through him. the lenses of their eyes constricting as they shifted to x-ray. it wasn't all too obvious, not to anyone that was just looking at them normally; especially with purple almost black eyes.

@lastedson liked for a random one liner starter | accepting

memes | always accepting

@lastedson said: ❝ did you enjoy yourself? ❞ / for kara

' Shhhh... '

Despite how illogical it was, Kara was almost CERTAIN she was on the cusp of her demise. While it had never been confirmed that a Kryptonian's head could spontaneously c o m b u s t ......it had not been outrightly denied either. The pounding behind blue eyes certainly might lend itself to the confirmation of the theory.

Indeed. This must surely be the end of the last daughter or Krypton. Cruelly slain by the consumption of too much ale beneath a red sun.

A groan left her lips, the KRYPTONIAN throwing a forearm across her eyes as she sprawled back over the observation table in the Fortress. Willing her very molecules to absorb the yellow sun's rays faster in hopes of ridding herself of the impending brain combustion. Kara GRIMACING as her cousin spoke. A hand shooting up, uncoordinated and with perhaps a tad more force than she had truly meant. Clapping a palm over his mouth.

                ' Your mouth words are too loud, Kal-el. '

A look of relief washes over the blonde's face as she straightens up to face the tall stranger, her blue eyes briefly falling to his Daily Planet badge before meeting his gaze. "Yes, actually. One got away from me. " A beat, then she's swift to add. "I'm here with the school for the workday field trip." She explains in a breath, allowing her eyes to scan around the busy bullpen in search of the missing student. He couldn't have gotten too far.

"Afraid some of the kids were disappointed when they learned they couldn't come up here."

@lastedson