The Last Daughter of Krypton - IC

[Superman1496]

Bruce had to stop himself from laughing out loud as Chloe pulled out the recorder. He didn't know that this was going to be a formal interview. He just smiled as Chloe asked her question.

Well, it was Alfred's idea to come out here. He thought it best that I get away from Gotham city, and grow up "normal" untill I was old enough to go back and take over Wayne Enterprises. He actually met my father here in Smallville. That's why he chose this town. Bruce said smiling.

Chloe's smile was almost mezmorizing. She just sat there, smiling, holding the recorder.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Chloe

Chloe rolled her eyes at herself theatrically as she saw the look on Bruce's face.

Yes, yes, the recorder was a little much. But she'd all but plainly admitted to him that she was all about the journalism, and on top of that, her steel-trap memory was visually-based rather than aurally. If she couldn't take notes, she needed the next best thing.

She wanted to talk to Bruce, more than anything. Person to person, or even girl to boy, but she would be doing herself and The Torch a disservice if she were to neglect this opportunity. It would be like sitting next to Neil Gaiman on the train and not asking him to write her a paragraph of something random.

Chloe tilted her head, though, as they strolled nearer to The Torch office, and pondered Bruce's response.

"That's our Smallville," she mused, "crossroads of eternity."

Later for finding out what a British butler was doing in Smallville, least of all a famous Gotham City doctor billionaire. Later for all that.

She didn't want to press Bruce too hard about his late father, not if she could look up the applicable backstory without causing the young man pain. After all, it hadn't been all that long ago that... that he'd lost...

Chloe missed her mother terribly, wherever she was. She couldn't imagine what Bruce had gone through having lost both his parents. Couldn't even imagine. So she wouldn't dredge that up unless she really really needed to.

Later.

"So how's that 'normalcy' thing working out so far?" Chloe rolled on, eyes glinting. "Because judging by what I've seen, you've run across some of our local abnormalities already."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose

Rose stood staring at that picture for a few good long moments, but then she took a closer look at the article. Her eyes scanned the text, flickering from line to line... and in so doing, she found no mention of the colourful explosion that had accompanied the train's hitting her father's car.

The train's hitting her father's car with her in it...

No mention of the fire or the ice or the neon-verdant plumes.

So maybe she wasn't being singled out for being an energy-casting freak of thermodynamics. Maybe she was just featured on this wall because of how unusual and miraculous it was that a person would survive such a catastrophe without so much as an external scratch.

Rose steadied herself as she stood there. She found a calm quiet place. A place of... acceptance.

She heard voices in the hall, growing closer, and she turned to see if they would enter the room. She had a reason to be here, after all. (Actually, two reasons, and both of them darn good ones.) And even if Chloe wanted to out her as a meteor-mutie or whatever such things were called? Well.

Rose could be brave. She wasn't very good at being brave. Not yet. But she could be brave. Even if being brave meant her secrets couldn't stay hers.

"The best way out is always through."
-Robert Frost.
(from Quotations on Courage, compiled by James Hamilton)

"I'll accept with poise with grace
When they draw my name from the lottery
And they'll say all the salt in the world couldn't melt that ice"
-"Big Casino," by Jimmy Eat World
(scribbled by Rose McCrimmon in the margins of Quotations on Courage)​

 

[Superman1496]

Bruce smiled as Chloe asked him about 'normalicy'. Well, besides that yesterday I got beat up, and woke up tied to a post in the middle of the Kent farm, found Henri Ducard in my house this morning, and found you, Pete, and Mr. Smith in a strange cave, after being sent in by Mr. Ducard, normalicy has been going just fine. Bruce said, laughing as he finished.

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

Kara, still not ready to return home, had been invited to spend some time with Marge and her husband in the comfort of their private home. She found herself sitting down in a rather comfortable rocking chair, a nice fire crackling off to the side. Kara never really found the intense heat bothersome... she hardly ever took notice of her lack of response towards temperature extremities.

"Thank you." Kara said after being offered a glass of water. Marge sat down on the couch and smiled at the blond girl while her husband was in the kitchen, fixing himself a drink of his own.

"So, do you go to school?" Marge asked just as Marshall came into the living room. Kara nodded her head.

"My first day was yesterday, actually." Kara said, taking a sip of her drink.

"Oh? That must have been special. I can remember my first day. Yes, I think so. Do you remember it?" Marge asked as she glanced over at her husband. He simply shrugged his shoulders before sitting down.

Kara supposed that you could call her first day at Smallville High 'special', but it didn't quite describe it entirely. 'Eventful' was more like it.

"It was alright." Kara said modestly, setting her glass down on the table. She found herself running her finger along the rim of the glass, staring at its clear contents.

Is it half-empty... or half-full? Kara wondered. Marge saw the absent-minded look spread across the young girls face, and she decided to see if Kara was ready to head back home.

"You miss your parents, don't you?" Marge inquired. Kara averted her eyes in slight embarrassment.

"Why don't you give them a call, and let them know you're alright." Marge suggested. Kara didn't really need to call... she could be home in less than 10 minutes if she wanted.

And she was starting to miss being home. The more Kara thought about it... the more she began to realize just how lucky she was to be a part of the Kent family. They had taken her into their home and cared for her...

Marge got up to get the portable telephone she and her husband had just purchased the week before, but when she returned the living room was empty. During her brief absence Kara got up from her chair and ran out the door, down the road, and back towards the state of Kansas. Even Marshall, who was sitting in the living room at the time, didn't see Kara leave. He had closed his eyes for a few moments out of tiredness, and awoke to find the young girl missing from her chair.

"Where did she go?" Marge asked, looking rather confused.

 

[Tymeless]

Misty stood there looking at her mother who was definitely still struggling with her Randal missing. She walked over and put her arms around her sobbing mother. "Mom Daddy will be okay I don't know why but I just seem to know it. I'm sure Lex will find him and take care of him. Why don't we go shopping or something today to keep your mind off it."

Misty's Mom just nods her head and goes back to sipping on her coffee absently.

Misty left the room and called Lex on her cell phone. She let it ring about 3 times before she heard someone on the other side. "Hi Lex?"

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

The morning of my second day of school found me sitting next to gram trying not to wince when she hit the brakes , as the seatbelt pulled across some spectacular bruises across my chest. In my armored form I'm pretty much bulletproof to small arms fire, but those assault rifles and especially the energy gun hurt like hell!! I stifled another moan as Gram stopped in front of the school. Kissing her cheek I got out and made my way inside.
The first three classes were OK. I didn't see Bruce or Kara, nor did I see her little blonde friend. Oh well, maybe tomorrow I'd get to hang out again. That was pretty fun. (Not as fun as taking down punks in Gotham or Metropolis, but still fun.)
Things changed when I went to my locker to get my books for third period. taped to my door was a note.
I know who you are rich boy. stared me in the face.

I folded the note up and put it in my pocket. While the fact that I was alive was known, where I was living is a secret. Someone tried once to kill me, and my best defense from that madman was staying hidden. Bekka had the resources of a multi-Billionaires, while I had other gifts. Gram and Gramps didn't however!
I walked down the hall racking my brain on who would have known, then it hit me when I passed by the Torch offices, it hit me.
Sullivan.

Damn girl knew everything, and with her interest in strange stories, it would be just like her to try and find out more about the reclusive kid in sunglasses. I stopped and went inside the office, ready to have a little talk with Ms. Sullivan!
" I don't know how you found out my last name is Greystone instead of Matthews, but you need to keep it to yourself and not...."
I was stopped cold in the middle of my tirade. Staring back at me were the most beautiful pair of blue eyes and a mass of red hair. I could only stare at her as the tight feeling in my gut grew.

 

[AmenRa]

LuthorCorp Office of Lionel Luthor

"I really didn't ever expect to see or hear from you again," Lionel Luthor said as he poured a glass of water from the Luthor signature blue bottle. He handed the glass to Smith, who took it with a nod of his head.

"Things don't always happen the way one expects when destiny is challenged," Smith replied.

Lionel sat on the leather chair across from Smith. "You're not talking about yourself, are you?" he asked.

"You are very intuitive, Lionel Luthor," Smith stated. "And you are correct. I believe The Artifact is here, somewhere, on Earth. The legend is true, and I know you have looked for it in the past."

Luthor nodded, "And I gave up on that search. It's true, I was close to discovering a location of one of the pieces in the Middle East. Now, though, I think my son has found an interest in these things....unexplained."

"Steps must be taken, Lionel Luthor," Smith warned in an all-too Kryptonian voice, "no mortal man must possess The Artifact. It is for the Chosen One and them alone. It was possessed once, so legend says, by a magic-bearing woman nearly brought about the end of your world."

"I remember the story," Luthor said. "If you want to search for the pieces, I will fund whatever expeditions you may need."

"Until the Chose One is revealed, the Artifact must be protected," Smith stated. "Your assistance is appreciated," he added.

They shook hands and Smith took his leave. Lionel watched him go, and then sat down at his desk and accessed a special account. He began to transfer funds there, making Smith the executor.

Smith rode the elevator to the parking level. He did not fully trust Lionel Luthor, but he didn't distrust him. Humans were indeed duplicitous in their nature. They lied, deceived, and stole. If that turned out to be the case here, Smith vowed he would seek vengeance.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Chloe

Chloe's eyes widened. (Deer in the headlights. Dog in a Hans Christian Andersen tale.)

"Holy God," she whirled to face Bruce more fully, her skirt furling and unfurling around her ankles with the force of her turn, more than a bit of James O'Barr seeping in around the edges of her eyes. "You got Scarecrowed? Lord, Bruce, oh, Lord. That's... that's a hell of a welcome wagon. I'm so sorry."

Chloe scrunched up her face and tightened her jaw.

Reporter's supposed to stay detached. Impersonal.

But dammit a reporter's supposed to stay angry, too! Reporter doesn't do anyone any good if they sink into cynicism.

And if a thing was worth getting angry about, it was the making of Scarecrows. Pretty much one of the worst forms of hazing out there, it simulated one of the worst forms of execution in history... without, of course, the added inconvenience of having nails hammered into your extremities or the occasional spear shoved into your side.

She turned away, and scowled fiercely, and threw her arms out to her sides.

"Stupid crazy jocks and their insane rituals!" she glowered as she turned back to face him, shaking her head. "You know, they're starting early this year. Usually this doesn't happen 'till the first couple weeks of October. Homecoming sort of time."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose

Rose didn't know exactly who she expected to walk in through that door. Chloe Sullivan, most probably?

But not this guy. She'd seen him in passing, and the kids in Junior High had made mention of him more than once...

Her scarlet eyebrows climbed her forehead, her blue eyes going way way wide, accentuating the forelock that danced betwixt those eyes, those eyebrows, and she took a half-step back. He wasn't overly tall, but there was something about him that was... imposing.

Imposing and endearing all at once.

"Uhm," she blinked. "I didn't know your name was Greystone. I... I didn't know your name was Matthews. I always thought it was Charles. Everyone always called you... 'Ray Charles.'"

She trailed off a bit, and went pale, and covered half her face with one hand as she laughed abashedly and incredulously.

"Oh, crap," she whispered, her other hand fidgeting with her braid. "Some self-proclaimed music expert I turned out to be. The sunglasses. I... I just got that. That's not cool. I didn't know they were making fun of you."

She walked closer to him, timid but eager to make amends for her foolishness, and she waved her fingers in front of his besunspectacled gaze.

"So," she murmured. "Um. Do you have 'day blindness' or something? I know there's people who have 'night blindness,' and you might have the... opposite..."

Okay. No. Try again. Third time's the charm?

She clamped her eyes shut for a moment, took a breath, reopened her eyes and smiled a weary little sheepish smile. She held out her hand for a handshake.

"I'm Rose," she declared. "Rose McCrimmon. What's your name? (I guess I know your last name. Two of them, even.) What's your first name?"

 

[AmenRa]

John Smith's SUV, en route to CKU

He had missed most of the morning, but that was nothing to be concerned with. Now, while back on the road again from Metropolis to his library at CKU, John Smith thought about the things he knew from Lionel Luthor, meteor rocks, and The Artifact...

Had funded an archaeological expedition to Egypt...
And Lionel had been close to finding one of the pieces. He imagined Luthor had given up out of sheer frustration, because the road maps to the pieces were cryptic indeed. He knew it would take more than a man with a dusty leather jacket and fedora to find them.

Maps....cryptic....
It had been in France where he had been led, to a church in Paris where a crypt was kept of a 16th Century French woman named Isobel Thoreau. He had seen Kryptonian writing there, but no indication of The Artifact. But here was the legend he heard of Isobel the witch and her sorcery powers, taken directly from The Artifact. And here was that last time he saw Henri Ducard...

The meteor rocks had come to Earth around 10 years ago....
Var-Sen had been in Europe or Asia then, and had missed their arrival. Surely somewhere there would be records of this..recordings...satellite photos..radio telemetry graphs. And, if there was radio telemetry of the meteor rocks' entry into the Sol System, then this telemetry would also pick up anything else that might have been traveling with them. Yes, another place to look.

Did Chloe follow-up on the writings in the cave? What is the pattern? What does it say?

As Smith was pulling into his designated parking space, he stopped his SUV and backed up. He exited the CKU campus and turned his car towards Smallville High School instead.

Perhaps, Miss Sullivan, it's time for quid pro quo.

 

[Superman1496]

Chloe's expressions indicated that she herself was acting funny. Bruce just laughed. Well, you have one thing right, that is one hell of a welcome wagon. Bruce said as they turned into the Torch.

Kyle was standing there, eyes locked on a red-head. She had mentioned something about his name being Greystone, or Matthews (which Bruce thought it was), and introduced herself as Rose McCrimmon.

That name rang a bell. But from where, he did not know. He looked over at Chloe, who had a look of suprise, as well as confusion on her face.

Kyle, hi. Bruce said, trying to break the uneasy tension. Which class are we in now? Bruce finished. He forced himself to smile, even though it was an akward one.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

"I'm Rose,Rose McCrimmon. What's your name? (I guess I know your last name. Two of them, even.) What's your first name?"

"It's Kyle. Kyle Alec Greystone, but please keep it to Matthews for now. I have my reasons for hiding my full name. Maybe sometime later I'll explain them"
I noticed Rose looking behind me & stopped talking, then sighed loudly.

"Chloe is right behind me isn't she?" I said at the same time Bruce said "Hi Kyle."
Some days wouldn't go right if you paid them!

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose and Chloe

The door opened wider behind Kyle Alec Greystone, and the person Rose had come here to see in the first place wandered in. And she had another of those imposing, endearing cute boys with her.

What, is this a new trend, like those puppies celebutantes keep in their purses? Or maybe they're like trading cards, and you have to collect the whole set? 'I'll trade your sunglass-wearing surname-switcher for this tall sleek man of few words?' 'Psh! No trade. Come back when you have something in a Heath "Ned Kelly" Ledger.'

Rose couldn't help but stare over Kyle's shoulder at Bruce Wayne. She... thought he looked familar... but she couldn't place...

Nah. Naaaah.

"Chloe is right behind me isn't she?" Kyle lamented with a sigh and all Rose could do was smile with a cringe and nod.

"Yeah," Rose whispered after a moment. "Right in... earshot. And everything."

Thinking a little more quickly now, she darted around Kyle and got between him and Chloe, interposing herself in the figurative line of fire.

"Not that there's a law," she reminded Chloe earnestly, "against having two last names. I mean, my last name used to be Hamilton before my parents split up and that's not exactly newsworthy."

Chloe was still aghast that she'd left the place unlocked. All the times, even in the comparatively short while she'd had the reins of The Torch, that she'd been pranked by upperclassmen who thought she was too big for her britches, all the times that she'd had stuff stolen, and she'd forgotten to lock that stupid door.

Even her meteor rock sample had been pilfered once by the Geology Club. It had taken her weeks to get it back. She needed to be more careful, not go storming off in the heat of the moment.

And thus confronted with the reality of her error, she could only smile ruefully.

Greystone, she pondered. Kyle Greystone. Why would he hide that? Greystone. Greystone. Does he mean like...?

But then... Rose was right. Damn her. Damn her, Rose was right.

Chloe eyed her digital voice recorder, and turned it off with a sigh. Then she looked up at Kyle Matthews and smiled that rueful smile.

"Just say three little words, Kyle," she explained. "Just say: 'off the record.' It's better than earplugs for making me not hear something. Temporarily robs me of my powers."

Chloe glanced over at Bruce in such a way as suggested, yeah, that goes for you too. I ever push you too hard about anything... three little safewords.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

I turned and looked into Chloe eyes. Yeah, she knew who I was. Bruce would figure it out eventually. The Billionaires Boys Club was a small organization. Having three of us in one sleepy small town was too big to keep hushed up.
I walked over to the door & closed and locked it. I didn't need anyone else wandering in to over hear what I had to say.
"Chloe, this is so off the record that once I get done talking I don't want you to even remember the conversation. Same goes for you Bruce."
I took off my glasses, massaging my forehead. (Thank God for colored contacts, though I had to keep the glasses on because a little glow showed through even with the contacts.)
" My real name is kyle Alec Greystone, son of Alec and Gwen Greystone, thirty percent owner of Gen-Tech Industries once I reach 21. Me and my sister are the only surviving members of my family. My parents and kid brother and sister were killed by a madman, and that same man put my sister in a wheelchair. He is still out there and from what intelligence we can piece together he is still looking for me. So now you know. any questions?"

I looked directly at Chloe when I said this, then put my glasses back on. Maybe she would understand some things needed to be kept secret.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose and Chloe

Rose's mouth kind of hung open.

She reached up, and she pushed it shut with her own extended finger.

Gen-Tech? Well. That's unexpected. Does everyone in this crazy little town have a secret? I'm starting to feel more at home here every minute.

The look on Chloe's face was beyond price. Beyond estimation. She was flabbergasted and incredulous and she looked like she wanted to scream and she looked like she wanted to cry.

She sagged, Chloe did, like a puppet with her strings cut.

She covered her face with both hands. "'Off the record,'" she agonised. "'Off the record.' Ad impossibilia nemo tenetur!"

It wasn't fair!

She took a deep breath, though. And she smiled that rueful smile. And she recovered somewhat. She looked wearily over at Bruce.

"What did I tell you, Bruce?" she sighed. "'Crossroads of eternity,' right?"

Her eyes immediately swept over to Rose.

"What about you?" she demanded ironically of the redhead. "You have anything you want to tell me? Do your parents have a secret life, too?"

Rose's eye twitched. "My dad's a scientist," she explained, honestly enough. "My mum's a hairdresser who apparently digs cars. But actually? I'm here about my uncle. And I thought maybe... since I do okay with physics and stuff with my dad's tutoring, that I could be the new science reporter?"

Chloe reeled a bit, dubious to the very extreme. "That's," she started, then had to try again.

"That's a pretty ballsy thing to ask," Chloe sputtered, gesturing to Kyle. "Considering the story you just cost me with your 'right to privacy' argument and the subsequent 'off the record' that then resulted! I'm supposed to give you a staff position after that?"

Rose took a big step back, and she wished that Kyle hadn't gone all the way across the room because maybe she could hide behind him. Chloe was scary when she was mad.

An imaginary light bulb went off over Rose's head, and she held up the jump drive.

"You know how sometimes they'll give low-level Mafia guys amnesty in court," Rose uttered rapidly, "if they'll rat out higher-level guys? Use the little fish as bait to catch the big fish?"

Chloe arched an eyebrow, and said nothing. This ought to be good.

Rose held the jump drive before her like the hilt of an unignited lightsaber, and then glanced back over her shoulder at The Wall of Weird. Then, pointedly, she swung her eyes back to Chloe.

"My uncle was big into researching the meteor rocks," she confessed, "and their effects on Earthly life and on their environment in general. He's given me his data to give to you. All four terabytes."

Chloe's other eyebrow climbed to join the other one at the top of her forehead.

She smirked and shook her head. "So you want to trade your uncle's data for forgiveness in the matter of Greystone versus The Torch?"

Rose grinned sheepishly. "I didn't mean to cost you a story so big," she admitted. "I was just trying to be nice to Kyle. Also? If you give me a staff position, I'll be under the off-the-record umbrella too and I'm sure that'll make Kyle feel better about his secret. (Not that he couldn't trust me anyway, but still.)"

Chloe walked across to Rose (clud-swish, clud-swish) and plucked the jump drive out of her hand, those eyebrows now scrunching down over her eyes. Although that dubious, rueful expression hadn't left her face, it seemed that her eyes had regained their intense curiosity.

"If what you have on here is any good at all," Chloe declared, "then we have an accord, Rose McCrimmon. Contingent upon that, we have an accord."

Rose grinned. "I, uh, savvy. Aye!"

And then, relieved a little bit that perhaps this conversation hadn't been a total waste, Chloe turned to smile sheepishly both at Bruce and at Kyle.

"Yeah, sorry," she chuckled softly. "Contract negotiations. Can't have the writers going on strike now, can we?"

She set down her laptop bag and perched on the edge of a desk, gesturing at the Heavens as she regained some colour in her cheeks.

"So, since we're now having a nice informal discussion," she prompted, "off the record, I'm just going to ask out of personal curiosity. What's it like? What's it like for you two, keeping your true identities secret and posing as mild-mannered high school students?"

"Have the courage to live. Anyone can die."
-Robert Cody.
(from Quotations on Courage, compiled by James Hamilton)

"I’ve been sleeping a thousand years it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything"
-"Bring Me To Life," by Evanescence
(scribbled by Rose McCrimmon in the margins of Quotations on Courage)

"Ad impossibilia nemo tenetur."
"No one is obliged to do the impossible."​

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

Martha Kent set a plate down on the table, its contents varying from mashed potatoes, chicken, and a garden salad. She and her husband had already eaten, but she had taken it upon herself to set a plate out for Kara in case she decided to come back. She sighed heavily until a hand touched down upon her shoulder. She turned around and put on a caring smile for Jonathan. Yet for all her attempts he could see that she was aching.

"Give it time, Martha." he said wisely. Martha nodded her head before wiping her hands clean with a hand-towel.

Not too far down the road, Kara whizzed her way past the Kent mailbox, stopping just shy of the porch that led inside. She looked at the house... and noticed that it was the same as before. Despite all that happened... this was still home. And that was a most comforting thought.

Inside Martha was about ready to turn it in, exhausted from the days labors. Even Jonathan, after drinking several cups of coffee, was about ready to fall asleep. Before either of them could head upstairs, however, Kara walked inside.

"Kara..." Martha said, surprised at seeing her daughter appear inside the doorway. Jonathan turned his head just as the young Kryptonian gave them an apologetic and emotional stare. She hardly moved an inch before her mother had her arms wrapped around her, hugging her tightly.

"I'm sorry, mom." Kara whispered softly, her voice riddled with emotion.

"I was scared." she added, holding back a few tears. Martha herself had turned slightly red, her cheeks lighting up after seeing her adopted daughter come back home. Martha ran her hand down Kara's hair until she cupped her cheek.

"It's... it's ok. We're just glad you're alright." Martha said. Kara smiled and looked up at her father. When Martha moved away Kara gave him a hug as well.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

I chuckled
"No, we can't have the writers striking. That would leave us with only reality TV to watch, and thats a fate worse than death!"

I started pacing, working off energy.
"As for what it is like, It's maddening! I have to be less than myself, keep myself a non-entity. The waking up screaming part stopped about a year ago, but the fear is still there. Not for me, but for whats left of my family."
I once again looked the inqusitive blonde in the eyes.
"It's Hell. I'm trapped in a life that is almost my own, but it isn't. And I can't go after the bastard that did this to me because i'm still a kid. Well, thats gonna change, and when it does I'm going hunting, and God help anyone that stands in my way!"
I noticed it was getting darker, shadows were sorta twitching. I closed my eyes and calmed myself before I changed and let Chloe in on my real secret!

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose and Chloe

Rose was suddenly glad that Kyle had gone to the other side of the room, and suddenly nervous that she had considered seeking refuge behind him. It now seemed that Chloe's upset paled in comparison to Kyle's fury.

Rose backpedaled a few more steps, and found herself with her back to The Wall of Weird. She steadied herself against the relative unyielding sturdiness of the structure, and tried not to think about the ghastly strangeness arrayed thereupon.

But then a chill ran up her spine. Ran up and ran down it, and she glanced about in bewilderment.

She couldn't hear a word that Kyle was saying, not anymore, because she could see that the shadows were moving, and it was taking her breath away...

Her fingers trembled, and she raised them to her lips. Reflexively, she switched her vision around as she'd done in the driveway of her mother's house, changed her eyesight from visible light to that of heat.

The darkness was there, too, creeping in, leeching colour. And while Rose's power was more heat-based than light, was not the infrared spectrum made of photons, too? And infrared light was heat.

The darkness was taking over the space occupied by light. Swallowing it up. Obscuring it. Even light that could not normally be seen was obscured.

Gingerly, gingerly, she reached out and touched one of the twitchy shadows, and she narrowed her eyes...

It was the opposite of standing in Kara Kent's presence. Kara shone like the sun inside and out and this... this was her antithesis. An anti-sun. An anti-light.

Her fingers felt cold, and the cold crawled up her arm, and she withdrew her hand in a hurry and returned her vision to the normal spectrum of light.

Even as she did so, she could see that the shadows, too, were withdrawing. She glanced up at the others to see if they'd noticed...

Chloe was visibly discomfited. Even at this distance, Rose could see the goosebumps on the back of her neck.

(Why are you staring at the back of her neck, anyway?

No reason. I just. That's where my eyes ended up, is all.)

Even at this distance, Rose could see that Chloe's grip on the edge of the desk was somewhat tighter than it would have been ordinarily. But Rose could not tell whether Chloe was reacting to the eerie cool of the shadows that had just retracted, or whether she was reacting to the radiant murky madness of Kyle Alec Greystone.

Rose glanced at Bruce, too. But she found that she couldn't read Bruce at all.

The guy was like an iceberg. Cool, yes, solid, yes, but he was more an iceberg in that the vast majority of who and what he was resided far, far below the surface. Especially given what Chloe had said, ostensibly to Bruce as well as to Kyle, "secret identities" and all, to see Bruce's face was to only see a fractional fragment of him. At least, she assumed this; she assumed he wasn't just superficial, she assumed he wasn't just a pretty face.

(And such a nice face it was, too. Not that Kyle was chopped liver. But Kyle was... fearsome. And Rose had enough trouble with fear already.

A fearsome man became less handsome to her, though still he was handsome.)

Chloe was ready with a retort to his rejoinder: 'I've got news for you, Kyle. "Reality TV" just pretends to not have writers.'

But then his tirade ensued, and she reeled a bit at the force of his rage.

Not that she could blame him. Not that she could blame him. If a monster had taken away those she loved she would move Heaven and Earth and Hell to find the person who had done so, and she would see him prosecuted to the fullest extent of The Law's imagination...

But it would still come down to The Law. As much as Chloe believed that rules should sometimes be bent for the greater good, she couldn't say as much about The Law. Wiser men than they had written the laws that governed the affairs of murder and theft and inhumanity.

Anger, though. She could respect anger. Righteous indignation. To a point...

Anger should never become all a man has to drive him. Because anger without hope is like a man bellowing his lungs out against a hurricane: it looks good and it feels cathartic but it ultimately changes nothing.

Anger must always be accompanied by hope. Hope for a better world. Because otherwise, ultimately, it changes nothing.

So she watched the besunspectacled would-be hunter with her own boiling eyes and with microscopic icicles prickling the back of her neck and with her mind racing a million miles a minute.

And when he closed his eyes and took a breath, and fought to find his inner calm, she breathed a sigh of relief, and spoke up softly.

"You're right, though," she murmured, wondering what in God's Name sophomore Bruce Wayne thought of all this, "Kyle, no matter what legacy you're inheriting, no matter what dwarrows and nightgaunts haunt your supposed future, you're not some youthful Spartan warrior chucked out into the elements and told to survive or die. You're a kid. You're still just a kid. You can't... walk around with that kind of weight around your neck and expect to grow up halfway sane. You may not wake up screaming anymore... but it sounds to me like you're still screaming. Silently. Waking or sleeping.

"You're still just a kid," Chloe cautioned softly, softly. "So... just be a kid."

 

[AmenRa]

He parked once again in a space marked "Visitor".

And once again he thought how awfully true the title was.

But, there again, it could be so that he was not alone here upon Earth. Somewhere, out there now, another waited, and they truly were the last of Krypton.

Var-Sen, like so long ago when he boarded a vessel bound for this world, had a mission now. With help from Lionel Luthor, he planned to bring together the pieces of the Artifact and house them safely, somewhere away from the world until the Chosen One came to claim them.

Then destiny would be set in motion.

But what destiny would this be? One of rulership and conquest? Or, one of leadership and rightousness? Var-Sen vowed he would see to it that the path walked was one worthy of a Kryptonian.

Besides, he had no other world to go to. It only made sense to see that this one did not destroy themselves with war and greed.

They are a great people. They wish to be. They only lack the light to show them the way.

But, even with Lionel Luthor's help, he needed other influences. Var-Sen felt that the human Chloe Sullivan was an untapped source of resources. Despite her youth she was a means of obtaining information not usually gatherable through ordinary means. He was sure of this now that he had spoken to her.

As he neared the doorway to The Torch, he thought about what he would ask of her. And he wondered what information he would use to repay her. The truth? Would it be that simple?

With some introspect, Var-Sen knew his search for The Artifact was just. And as such, he should call it by it's real name, and not the name scribbled on some witch's tomb in France.

It was The Crystal of Knowledge. It contained the amassed knowledge of Krypton's greatest explorers of the 28 known galaxies. It contained technological information far advanced beyond anything humans had ever considered. It contained the power to build, to shape, to learn, to create. And it contained the power to destroy. For this reason alone Var-Sen knew he must not allow the three pieces to come together in human hands.

It had been broken into three seperate pieces: the Crystal of Air, the Crystal of Water, and the Crystal of Fire. Each were hidden in different places on Earth. Luthor had been close to finding one of them in Egypt, of this Var-Sen was sure. He only hoped Chloe's translation of the repeating pattern of Kawatche symbols would lead him to the others.

The crystal had been originally hidden on Earth to protect it use as a weapon. Someone long ago had foreseen Krypton's end. By having the crystal within reach, that end could have been averted. Apparently, it was never used.

And now it would be meant for someone else's destiny.

"Miss Sullivan," he said as he opened the door and stepped through, "I was wondering if..." he stopped in mid-sentence when he saw a room full of students. Chloe was there, as was Gotham's favored son, Bruce Wayne. He had expected that. And he was glad, too, for Wayne appeared to be a calculating sort who was not easily unnerved.

There were two others. One he recognized from the history lecture, the red-headed human female he did not.

"Forgive me if I am intruding," John Smith said with a slight bow of his head. But he didn't retreat. Instead he walked straight into the room and perched on the top of a desk, black leather jacket swishing a bit as he moved.

 

[Superman1496]

And the plot thickened. Bruce had originally walked into the Torch along with Chloe, to simply drop off her camcorder.

Kyle and Rose happened to be waiting there for them. (Or at least Chloe) And neither of the two of them were who they really claim to be. Bruce felt obligated to say: Well, unlike you two, who have interesting lives, I however, do not prefer to spend my nights, running around, cape in hand, as a dark vigilante.

It was a lie, sort of, and he hoped that Chloe's intellect would not peirce through it. And he felt bad for Kyle, and for Rose, who seemed to both have similar lives to Bruce.

Only they still had family. Not that Alfred wasn't family, but Alfred wasn't a father. True, he was the closest thing Bruce would ever have, but there was something about the butler's relationship that got in the way.

So, after Kyle retreating across the room, and Rose looking strangly at him, and the three of them talking about things that made Bruce laugh under his breath due to irony, Mr. John Smith walks into the door.

So, the story thus far: Kyle and Rose, both "masked" characters, waiting for Chloe, are suprised by one another, and Bruce. And while discussing life issues that teenagers should never have, John Smith, who seemed to have a real knack for getting into places you normally wouldn't find a History teacher, walks in, on this very elaborate scene, which made Bruce feel like he was in some sort of comic book or something.

The thought made him laugh.

Well, my good friends, it seems that life keeps throwing us together, and for strange reasons, it seems. Bruce said, smiling his billionare charming smile, that would protect him from other people seeing behind his dark mask.

 

[Ravenloft]

"Misty Graves, I was hoping you would call. Listen, do you have the time to come and meet me at my mansion? There is a man I would like you to meet. He knows what happened to your father... It would appear that you are not the only super hero in your family..."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose and Chloe

Chloe stared at Bruce Wayne like he'd sprouted a second head and the second head was a five-dimensional imp.

When Professor Smith wandered in and sort of... asserted himself on the room, she blinked at him and looked right back at Bruce Wayne again.

"Yes," she gestured in Smith's general direction, without looking away from Bruce, "you're intruding. But yes, I forgive you. Now be quiet a minute."

She squinted at Bruce. "No-one said anything about capes, Bruce," she muttered. "And only Kyle said anything that could be construed as relating to vigilantism."

Again without looking away from Bruce, Chloe called over her shoulder to Rose.

"Rose," she suggested. "Time to earn your spurs. Psychology?"

Rose blinked, and looked around for a second as if there were another "Rose" in the room to whom Chloe could be speaking. And then it sunk in, and she steadied herself again against the wall, and she swallowed hard and shoved the heel of her left hand into her forehead above her right eye and she thought as hard as she could.

Chloe arched an eyebrow and glanced around at Rose. She blinked worriedly, suddenly thinking she'd been too totalitarian with the new girl. "Rose?"

"No, no," Rose waved Chloe off with her right hand. "nononono, I got this. I got this."

She straightened sharply, and snapped her fingers. "Projection! Freudian defence mechanism by which the subject foists that which he or she finds unsavoury about him or herself onto another!"

Chloe pursed her lips, tilted her head, and swung her gaze back around to look at Bruce. "What do you think, Bruce? Is Cerebra here worth her weight in copy boys? Or is she just another Mad Hatter?"

She grinned softly, and moved a little closer to Bruce, eying him carefully.

"Or maybe this is another psychological kettle of worms entirely," she enunciated slowly. "Maybe you wish there was more adventure in the world, and you're seeing things that aren't there, in hopes of conjuring them into being. Well, I can't hardly blame you for that."

Her smile grew a little sad.

"I've been accused of similar things," Chloe whispered softly. "Of trying to find more strangeness in the world than it actually has. I don't think there's any shame in that."

Now out from under the burning spotlight of Chloe's analytical regard, Rose edged closer to the man in black who had traipsed right in here like he owned the joint. (She had thought that Kyle had locked the door, but maybe Kyle hadn't done it right. Or maybe the school's old locks and doorknobs were flimsier than they could be.)

She tapped him on the shoulder as he sat against a desk, and she asked him nervously: "Uhm, excuse me? Sir? You're not the truant officer, are you? Because I swear to God-- Scout's Honour --I will totally bring a note from my parents tomorrow. I had a very good reason for not interrupting them this morning. Like, you wouldn't believe how good my reason was."

 

[Superman1496]

Chloe got close to Bruce. He didn't know know what to say.

Maybe she was right.

Bruce remembered about what Ducard said, about fighting for the one's who couldn't fight for themselves. He knew that people had to be punished for what they did.

Projection. Maybe it was a subconscious action for Bruce. Maybe they we're right. Maybe Bruce, deep down, wanted the more action packed life. But no, not for the action. Not for the vengance. Vengance was not a valid motive, but only an emotional response. Those words echoed in his head from a family friend speaking to him shortly after his parents were killed.

No, not vengance. But punishment. Punishment for those who have hurt the innocent.

Chloe, I... Bruce started, looking into her beautiful eyes. She had done something that no one else had done.

She found Bruce Wayne, speechless.

She was right though, or at least not far off. But he couldn't break his stance here, in front of Kyle, Rose and Mr. Smith. Kyle and Rose, it seemed, could use someone with a firm stance. Someone to show them that everything would be ok.

Not that Bruce knew exactly what was going on with the two of them.

And Mr. Smith. He had to remain solid in front of him. He didn't quite trust him. He didn't fully trust Ducard either, but Ducard made more sense, and answered more questions for Bruce.

He looked down at Chloe, staring into her eyes. They were inquisitive. They knew something was beneath the flashy smile of this billionare. They wanted to know.

But then they changed. Soft. Understanding. Almost as if Chloe had read every emotion inside Bruce's head. Like she understood where he was coming from. And for one very strange, very rare moment, Bruce felt the comfort that he hadn't felt in years.

Can we discuss this later? Please? Bruce asked.

 

[AmenRa]

Var-Sen turned and looked down into the eyes of the red-headed human female that had just tapped him on the shoulder. He then scanned the room, taking a good look at each person, and then returned his intense gaze to Rose.

"No," he said, "I'm just a librarian."

He remained perched on the desk, not listening to them talk, but understanding them.

They were each reaching out to the other. Some shyly, some not so. It appeared that each of them had something cohesive, some common bond, some kinship of spirit that had brought them together. He was not sure what this comradarie was, but he certainly felt a part of it.

Were they all aliens, too?

Or was there something else....

Smith took a blank sheet of paper from one of the desk PC printers, grabbed a black marker from a cup, and started writing.

The language was Kryptonian.

The symbols were from the cave wall.

The other patterns, the native Kawatche, he drew from memory. When he was finished, he sat back for a second, and then held the paper up for Chloe and Bruce to see.