#seraophic

@seraophic : ❛  do  you  have  a  minute ?  ❜ ( x. )

❝ for you? always. ❞ babs leans back in her chair, her hands coming together as she tries to discern the tone that they used with her. she’s always on call for everyone, and clark certainly knows who she is ( they’re one of the few that does ) so it could be for any reason that they’re calling her up now. maybe brainiac or lex luthor are at it again. or maybe a certain someone that they share a home with is being insufferable about something and they need someone to talk to about it. barbara understands that sentiment very well.

it’s  easy  for  jen  to  forget  how  comfortable  she’s  gotten  in  new  york  city  until  she  leaves  it.  more  accurately,  new  york  city  has  gotten  used  to  jen.  she’s  abnormal  there,  sure,  but  being  a  celebrity  sighting  is  different  than  being…  well,  nobody  here  has  any  idea  what  she  is.  but  when  a  metahuman  law  conference  in  metropolis  needs  a  keynote  speaker,  she  certainly  can’t  refuse  a  nice  change  of  scenery.

the  cell  phone  in  her  hands  is  custom-made,  of  course,  with  a  titanium  frame  and  clear  sapphire  screen,  but  she’s  still  terribly  delicate  with  the  device  as  she  spins  and  zooms  in  the  map  it’s  displaying.  standing  on  a  busy  street  corner,  she  turns  around  slowly  with  her  phone  at  a  steady  angle  like  a  dowsing  rod  in  an  attempt  to  get  her  bearings.  really,  it’s  just  embarrassing  to  be  this  navigationally  challenged  with  so  many  people  watching.  she  drove  past  the  convention  center  last  night  --  it  shouldn’t  be  this  hard  to  find  on  foot.  

no  sooner  does  she  think  she’s  getting  back  on  track,  of  course,  than  the  unmistakable  sound  of  gunfire  echoes  through  the  streets,  and  her  phone  is  instantly  relegated  to  her  pocket  as  she  kicks  off  her  shoes  and  starts  moving  quickly  in  the  direction  of  the  commotion.

now,  the  passersby  bear  witness  as  a  seven-foot-tall  woman  in  a  tailored  violet  pantsuit  scales  the  side  of  a  building  like  a  cat  climbing  a  tree,  super-hard  nails  digging  into  brick  to  help  her  scramble  up  to  the  roof.  she  could  just  jump  over  the  building,  but  she  doesn’t  know  the  area  well  enough  to  safely  direct  her  landing--  which  would  be  like  that  of  a  small  asteroid.  so  instead  she  springs  across  the  roof,  and  over  to  the  next,  hoping  that  wasn’t  the  sound  of  something  falling  out  of  her  purse.  it’s  easier  to  find  her  way  when  there’s  a  real  trail  to  follow  --  but  when  she  hits  the  pavement  again  (as  it  buckles  and  craters  at  the  impact),  she  finds  that  the  situation  seems  already  to  have  been  handled.

              congratulations  ,  roy  ,  you’ve  only  gone  and  done  it  again.  another  impossible  situation  —  deadly  odds  that  should  probably  lead  to  certain  doom.  at  least  ,  that’s  what  any  sane  person  would  bet  on.  a  regular  old  human  hanging  by  a  wire  on  top  of  a  crane  didn’t  give  very  encouraging  odds  for  survival.  it  was  the  same  old  usual  thing  with  roy.  get  himself  into  some  kind  of  situation  —  one  costumed  guy  or  other  wrecking  some  sort  of  havoc  —  come  up  with  a  bizarre  plan  to  get  it  handled  ,  which  usually  works  —  often  times  at  his  own  expense.  this  was  very  much  one  of  those  times.  in  this  case  ,  said  plan  left  him  hanging  off  this  crane  by  one  leg  ,  sunglasses  fallen  to  the  ground  and  probably  destroyed  ,  hair  blowing  in  the  wind  ,  and  his  life  hinging  on  how  long  this  wire  can  handle  supporting  his  weight  while  being  suspended.  

              head  simply  hanging  downward  ,  blood  rushing  towards  it  ,  roy  closed  his  eyes.  he’d  already  tried  everything  he  could  at  this  point  ,  be  it  trying  to  reach  for  an  arrow  or  cutting  the  wire  down  with  a  knife  and  hoping  to  figure  something  out  on  the  way  down.  nothing  seemed  to  work.  going  deep  in  thought  was  about  the  only  thing  he  could  do  right  now.  you’ve  survived  far  worse  than  this  .  .  .  he  kept  reassuring  himself.  and  he  has.  something  like  this  seemed  like  a  mere  inconvenience  compared  to  some  of  the  usual  threats  to  his  life.  even  so  ,  his  mind  couldn’t  help  but  race  with  worry.  what  if  this  was  he  goes  out?  a  simple  fall  from  the  sky  and  he’d  be  gone.  always  so  careful  and  meticulous  ,  chasing  perfection  and  calculating  every  possible  step  ,  trying  to  make  sure  he  always  made  it  home  for  lian  —  yet  it  could  all  dwindle  away  thanks  to  some  stupid  mistake.  just  .  .  .  think  about  lian.  you’ll  make  it  out  of  this.  you  have  to.  even  if  it  was  by  nothing  but  his  sheer  arrogance.

                   starter  for  @seraophic​   :   𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊  𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓  ;  𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍