The Last Daughter of Krypton - IC

[camerindrake]

Damian

Damian begins to walk back from the football field running his hand through his hair knocking the snow out of it . After one last quick swipe of his fingers it falls back in place again though two pesky strands fall forward. He thinks to himself, 'At least its not that pesky s curl'

The young knight looks down the hall seeing the girl in the hooded shirt leave the cafeteria. The teen then begins to follow her at a decent distance from her as he thinks, 'I don't recognise her. She is scratching like she is on a hallucinogen.'

Damian stops at his locker just long enough to get his book for class as he follows.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceri. "If you don't have a penny, a ha'penny will do."

She pulled out one of the crepes placing it on one of the plate and then handed the bag off to Ceri continuing, "I order us each two but my friend here thought seven would be a better number." followed by sticking her tongue out towards her friend.

"Call it a hunch," Ceri mused, smirking at the sticking out of tongues as she helped herself to a crepe and passed this along to Zatanna. "The 'number seven' bit. Not that I'm a believer in luck, exactly? But it seemed to me that seven is a better omen than six in more numerologies than not. A number of completion. Besides, we could always do Paper, Scissors, Stone for the last one."

She took a cup of the steaming hot beverage and placed it beside her plate saying, "Its a simple Earl Grey but we didn't know if you liked creamer, milk or sugar so help yourself to which you prefer." she then took a sip and moaned slighty continuing, "Nothing is better on a cold winters day that a spot of hot tea."

"Soothing to the soul," Ceri agreed, as got a little pouch out of the inside pocket of her jacket, opening this to reveal a pair of bamboo chopsticks, funny little thing to carry 'round, "yeh might say?"

She looks out the window eyes half lidded saying, "This reminds me of good times."

Spearing a piece of crepe, Ceri tore off a corner and delivered this to her mouth with a deft swoop. Chewing amiably, she swallowed, and grinned, and shook her head. "'Christmas is coming and the geese are getting fat. Please put a penny in the old man's hat.'"

Taking her own cup of tea, she blew on this lightly to cool it before sipping it. "Nadolig llawen, you two."

 

[Varshanka]

The Newcomer

Shifting her books she moved through the halls, occasionally looking at a piece of paper, then at door. Several times she paused and turned, changing directions as she moved.

But still she scratched her arm. Even when she found what she was looking for. Stopping at a door she paused, resettling her books in her arm. Then stepped in.

“Hello, can I help you?” the teacher asked, stepping over.

Holding out a paper the new girl mumbled something, at least it looked like she mumbled something.

Looking at the slip of paper the teacher nodded, “Class we have a new student. Miss Kristopheles. Hmm, sounds Greek. Do you speek Greek, Miss?”

Shaking her head no, she made to find a seat but the teacher stopped her. “C'est la classe avancée française, vous comprenez?" she asked.

“Oui, Madame. Toutes les instructions et les paroles prononcées dans cette catégorie doivent être en français. Je suis curieux de savoir pourquoi vous avez attendu si longtemps pour expliquer que.” The young girl said, still looking for a seat through the edge of her hoodie.

“Parce que je n'étais pas sûr que vous m'avez compris ...?” The teacher said.

“Je vois. Dois-je prendre place maintenant?” the newcomer asked, her French obviously flawless. Perfect as a native Parisian.

“Pourrais-je vous demander où vous appris le français?”

“Italie. Je parle couramment français, anglais et italien, ainsi que le latin. Seat s'il vous plaît?”

“Puis-je vous demander pourquoi vous prenez cette classe si vous êtes de toute évidence au-delà dans le niveau de compétence?”

“Période d'étude gratuit.” The newcomer answered simply, finally taking a seat that was empty.

Sighing, the teacher signed the slip of paper and set it on the desk. Admitting the student to the class.

 

[Varshanka]

Zatanna

She pulled out one of the crepes placing it on one of the plate and then handed the bag off to Ceri continuing, "I order us each two but my friend here thought seven would be a better number." followed by sticking her tongue out towards her friend.

"Call it a hunch," Ceri mused, smirking at the sticking out of tongues as she helped herself to a crepe and passed this along to Zatanna. "The 'number seven' bit. Not that I'm a believer in luck, exactly? But it seemed to me that seven is a better omen than six in more numerologies than not. A number of completion. Besides, we could always do Paper, Scissors, Stone for the last one."

She took a cup of the steaming hot beverage and placed it beside her plate saying, "Its a simple Earl Grey but we didn't know if you liked creamer, milk or sugar so help yourself to which you prefer." she then took a sip and moaned slighty continuing, "Nothing is better on a cold winters day that a spot of hot tea."

“Except a cute guy, a bear skin rug, and a roaring fireplace,” Zatanna mussed. “Unless you’re into girls, then just swap the stick for the chick and it’s all good.” She finished with a secret grin.

"Soothing to the soul," Ceri agreed, as got a little pouch out of the inside pocket of her jacket, opening this to reveal a pair of bamboo chopsticks, funny little thing to carry 'round, "yeh might say?"

She looks out the window eyes half lidded saying, "This reminds me of good times."

Spearing a piece of crepe, Ceri tore off a corner and delivered this to her mouth with a deft swoop. Chewing amiably, she swallowed, and grinned, and shook her head. "'Christmas is coming and the geese are getting fat. Please put a penny in the old man's hat.'"

Taking her own cup of tea, she blew on this lightly to cool it before sipping it. "Nadolig llawen, you two."

“Blessed Yuletide and Happy New Year unto you both,” Zatanna whispered to both ladies. “And as for the last of treats, split it between the two of you. I personally need to watch my figure. Until I can find someone to watch it for me while I eats chocolate unto mine hearts content.”

“And I hate to ask, being new and all, but what is there to do around here when the streets roll up and the lights go dim? Any nightclubs?”

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

"Overall Diana, things have been about 20o off normal, which is about usual for here. Oh, do me a favor though and please don't break any football players. The coach has been after me for weeks and I don't need him any more desperate for players!"

The rest of lunch period went by in the usual outsider fashion, with me teasing the girls and they giving it back to me in spades. These people were my family, and I loved them all. I especially loved watching Rose laugh. Her whole face lit up when she did that. I was getting up to go to my next class (algebra, ugh!) when Mrs. Summers the school councilor came into the lunch room with that 'family emergency' look on her face. I didn't pay it much notice until she stopped at me. I got more worried as she came over and stopped in front of me.

"Kyle, can you come with me please." she said in her worried tone.

Oh hell!

 

[AmenRa]

In the penthouse office suite of LuthorCorp Tower, Lionel sat staring at his desk.

Beside his pc monitor were several pages of plain paper with inked markings written upon them. Some were large, some were small, the markings, but all were written in a language he didn't understand. Even though he had written it.

They were pictographs, or hieroglyphs, or symbols. He had written them before, when he wasn't himself, when he was someone else, but he wasn't sure who.

Emil had suggested some things to him, to help him, but the visions, if that's what they were, had stopped.

But he still, sometimes, drew the pictures.

He had Googled and he had Binged, and he had Asked Jeeves. And, of all things, the one link that returned something was a site dedicated to Smallville High's student newspaper, The Torch.

And, as he studied the pages of this site, he learned that a certain high school student named Chloe Sullivan had a nose for these things, as there were pictures of these same symbols appearing in several issues of the paper accompanying stories that she penned.

Lionel sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

He picked up his desk phone.

"Make an endowment of twenty-five computer systems to Smallville High in the name of the LuthorCorp Foundation," he said to some general admin assistant on the other end. "However," he continued, "I want it specified that the high school paper, The Torch, gets as many as is needed. Remember, make sure they do this. The Torch gets as many computers as they need. Also include newsprint layout software, photo editing software, and a high-res laser printer. Have them sent over today, this afternoon."

Lionel hung up the phone and sat back once again in his chair.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Jamie.

Barry had already finished one plate, and was more than half way finished with the second. "Actually yes. I'm from Iowa, and have been living the last several years in Central City." he replied.

"I hate to leave good company," Jones said as he stood, "but I have some presentations to prepare for my next class." He shook hands with Barry and Jamie and headed to his classroom.

Jamie shook Jones' hand firmly, and then tossed a salute to him as he walked away.

He smiled faintly to himself, and murmured a phrase from one of his daughter's all-time favourite movies: "'Actually, I'm from Iowa. I only work in outer space.'"

Sipping his coffee, he swung his attention back around to Barry, examining the man thoughtfully anew.

"Central City," he mused. "Really. That's-- it really is a very small planet, ennit? Getting smaller every day. I lived just across the bridge in Keystone for nigh on fifteen years, my daughter's a huge Combines fan. Lectured once or twice at the university there, advanced physics, a lot of, I dunno, waffle, talk about Unified Field Theory and that sort of thing. Moved to Smallville this summer just gone, wanted to be nearer my daughter, she was going through a thing."

Propping his elbow on the tabletop and leaning his cheek on his palm, he squinted dark dark eyes at Barry Allen. "How are The Other Twin Cities, these days? Still standing, I hope?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose, Chloe, and Pete.

Collectively, the table again waved and grinned at J'onn as he walked by, and Rose resisted the urge to elbow Chloe.

"Overall Diana, things have been about 20o off normal, which is about usual for here. Oh, do me a favor though and please don't break any football players. The coach has been after me for weeks and I don't need him any more desperate for players!"

The rest of lunch period went by in the usual outsider fashion, with me teasing the girls and they giving it back to me in spades.

"Well how ab-"

Kara had to cut her sentence short as the five-minute warning bell began to chime, sending students scurrying to their next class. Kara rose from her seat and picked up her belongings. Her entire afternoon was on the academic heavy side with English, Science, Mathematics and a foreign language class.

"Um... I'll catch up with you guys later."

"Q'apla', Double-K," Rose waved, grinning softly. "Tell Science I said ''ello.'"

Chloe, too, rose and gathered her things. "I need to swing by The Torch before I take a crack at AP English. We're supposed to do soliloquies in class and I need to glance over my notes for Hamlet, Act Three, Scene One."

Rose smiled faintly at that. "Death and dreaming. Figures."

Chloe grunted, smirking. "Thought it was a little bit apropos, yeah."

"Also," Pete mused, strolling up, looking particularly proud of himself, "you wouldn't wanna be late to History."

Chloe stared at Pete like he had just mispronounced "anathema."

"And that's quite enough from The Greek Chorus," she harrumphed, and nodding again to Diana, kissing Merick atop his head, she hurried away.

Pete played it cool. "What'd I say?"

Rose grinned her ass off, and quoted Hamlet himself: "'Words, words, words.'"

I was getting up to go to my next class (algebra, ugh!) when Mrs. Summers the school councilor came into the lunch room with that 'family emergency' look on her face. I didn't pay it much notice until she stopped at me. I got more worried as she came over and stopped in front of me.

"Kyle, can you come with me please." she said in her worried tone.

...the grin vanished from Rose's face in a hurry, and all of a sudden she was standing beside Kyle with no apparent intermediate transition. "Miz Summers. What's going on? I mean, not to risk any sort of HIPAA violation but--" and she glanced, pale, at Kyle, before returning her gaze to the counselor "--what's going on?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceri.

“Except a cute guy, a bear skin rug, and a roaring fireplace,” Zatanna mussed. “Unless you’re into girls, then just swap the stick for the chick and it’s all good.” She finished with a secret grin.

Ceri pondered that remark for a moment. There was a certain mix of elegance and vulgarity to this. And it wasn't like she judged a person based on the practices of their bed or the predilections of their hearts. She had been trained to tend to the soul, gender was just window-dressing and pronouns wrapped thereabout.

Not hot tea but hottie. Hm.

She smiled softly.

"Soothing to the soul," Ceri agreed, as got a little pouch out of the inside pocket of her jacket, opening this to reveal a pair of bamboo chopsticks, funny little thing to carry 'round, "yeh might say?"

She looks out the window eyes half lidded saying, "This reminds me of good times."

Spearing a piece of crepe, Ceri tore off a corner and delivered this to her mouth with a deft swoop. Chewing amiably, she swallowed, and grinned, and shook her head. "'Christmas is coming and the geese are getting fat. Please put a penny in the old man's hat.'"

Taking her own cup of tea, she blew on this lightly to cool it before sipping it. "Nadolig llawen, you two."

“Blessed Yuletide and Happy New Year unto you both,” Zatanna whispered to both ladies. “And as for the last of treats, split it between the two of you. I personally need to watch my figure. Until I can find someone to watch it for me while I eats chocolate unto mine hearts content.”

"Mm," Ceri smirked. "I read a comic book or two when I was small. And say what yeh will about mutant powers, I wouldn't mind th' ability to metabolise comfort food to th' same extent as I needed comforting."

“And I hate to ask, being new and all, but what is there to do around here when the streets roll up and the lights go dim? Any nightclubs?”

Ceri's eyes sank to half-lid. "M'afraid this town's a bit light when it comes to living the night. Granville's home to a couple of spots, have to keep those lads and lasses entertained at Central Kansas A&M. And it's not like Metropolis is terribly far away... mostly all Smallville has are two coffeeshops and a movie theatre that shows the indiest of indie films."

She pondered this for a moment, and smiled softly. "The Sheriff had to break up a barn rave not long ago, but I doubt that's the sort of thing yeh're looking for."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

"Miz Summers. What's going on? I mean, not to risk any sort of HIPAA violation but, what's going on?"

"I just need to talk to Kyle in private Rose. Kyle, please come with me."

I looked at the girl, no, young woman that I knew I loved, and at the councilor, and my decision was made in an instant.

"Miz Summers, whatever you have to tell me, and lets face it, you almost never bring good news, you can say with Rose standing beside me. From the way you look, I want her there." I said. I didn't know what was going on, but her face looked like something real bad had happened.

She looked at the both of us and finally closed her eyes and sighed. "OK, you can come. Now, the both of you, lets go."

We made our way through the halls and into her office. She ushered us into seats, and my anticipation was not any less, even with Rose holding my hand.

"Kyle, I hate to tell you this, but the hospital called. Your grandfather is being flown to Metropolis general, and your grandmother is on her way there too. He had a heart attack. The hospital said he is stable, but you should make your way there. Is there someone that can take you there?"

It hit me like a blow. Shadows started dancing in the room and it grew darker. I heard a crack as my hand broke the chair arm.

I was very, very close to changing in this office.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose and Pete.

"I just need to talk to Kyle in private Rose. Kyle, please come with me."

Rose met Kyle's gaze, and looked with him at the school counselor.

"Miz Summers, whatever you have to tell me, and lets face it, you almost never bring good news, you can say with Rose standing beside me. From the way you look, I want her there." I said.

Rose smiled a smile that was only mostly not a grimace. "We don't keep secrets. There's this whole thing called 'full disclosure?' Whatever you're going to tell him, he's going to tell me anyway, this is just going to save us a step."

She looked at the both of us and finally closed her eyes and sighed. "OK, you can come. Now, the both of you, lets go."

Rose took a deep breath.

And she walked with Kyle, clinging to his hand.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Pete gazing quietly, worriedly after them.

Pete nodded to her. Keep it loose.

She nodded back, grateful. Keep it tight.

She swung her gaze back around, and tried not to panic.

Tried not to feel like her old ever-fearful self.

Tried not to feel like she was toppling headlong into the abyss of Zod's eyes.

Together, they were strong.

We made our way through the halls and into her office. She ushered us into seats, and my anticipation was not any less, even with Rose holding my hand.

She gave Kyle's hand a squeeze as they sat.

"Kyle, I hate to tell you this, but the hospital called. Your grandfather is being flown to Metropolis general, and your grandmother is on her way there too. He had a heart attack. The hospital said he is stable, but you should make your way there. Is there someone that can take you there?"

Rose's hand flew to her mouth, settled down to her throat. Blue blue eyes felt like they were too big for their sockets, her heart was pounding lodged somewhere in her trachea and no amount of Heimlich manoeuvering would pump it free.

Gran'pa Matthews had taught her how to ride a horse.

He'd out handshaken her father's definitive handshake.

Gran'pa...

It hit me like a blow. Shadows started dancing in the room and it grew darker. I heard a crack as my hand broke the chair arm.

She felt the cold lashing from wall to wall, the sudden plummeting levels of infrared light in the room, just like in The Torch office once upon three full moons ago. She felt his strong strong hand close tighter around hers, she felt her bones grind against bones and a normal girl's hand would have been powder and shards under pressure like that.

I was very, very close to changing in this office.

"Kyle," she breathed, her voice tight at the constriction shooting up her arm. "Kyle. He's. 'Stable' means out of danger. Near miss, but alive. You don't have to--"

She squeezed his hand back hard, gave him a flickering burst of warmth against his palm, warmth and light muffled between the clasping of their palms.

"--you don't have to go off the deep end," she murmured. "This isn't good. But it could have been worse. You don't have to tear down the world."

She pressed her forehead into the side of his head, her eyes closed and her voice a small but insistent murmur.

"Take a breath," she breathed. "Take a breath. Before you do something you'll regret. Let's just go see him. Let's just go see for ourselves that he's okay."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

The warmth in my hand and her calm voice pulled me back. I was close, so very close to changing.

"Right." I said, my voice thick with emotion. "He's stable, and on his way to one of the best hospitals in the country. Can you call your mom to come get up please?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Lex.

The limousine's suspension was top of the line, but it still juddered somewhat as the limo's driver wrangled it down the maintenance roads in the outskirts of Smallville.

Lex ignored the juddering, just like he would ignore airplane turbulence or a loose cobblestone. He was on the phone.

"So far as my father's concerned," Lex reminded the woman on the other end of the line, "I'm in a deep meditative retreat with that guru to the stars they wrote about in The Planet, I simply won't be disturbed for at the very least until late this evening. With any-- I hesitate to say luck, but you know what I mean --he won't realise I've left his cozy little Metropolitan embrace until after I've returned to Metropolis."

He smiled faintly, listening to the woman on the other end of the line.

"Yes, well," Lex mused, "he's nothing if not formidable, even I can admit that. But even if he's cognisant that I'm up to something, so long as he doesn't know what--"

He paused, pressed his lips together tightly. He didn't like to be interrupted.

"This is more important," he reiterated. "This country is the pillar that supports the world; if this nation falls so does the planet, look at the economy and try to tell me different. My work will keep this country alive. My work will defend The Earth. I won't let anything interfere with that. Not even my allegedly well-meaning old man."

He paused again, his jaw tightening, and approval glinting in his darksome eyes.

"Of course," he affirmed.

"Of course."

"Thank you, Mercy."

He takked the "end" key on his Sprint touchscreen Blackberry and gazed across the passenger compartment at his fellow passenger.

A beautiful young lady in exquisite designer garb.

"I'm sorry," he smiled gently, oh-so-gently, "that you had to hear me take my assistant to task like that. I'm just. Passionate. About my work. You'll understand, I know you will."

Pocketing the phone, he toyed with the glinting emerald-jeweled pinky ring he wore on his left hand. The ring served a dual defensive purpose, the young lady with him in the limo being conscious of neither one.

He reached across the compartment and touched the young lady's hand as the limo pulled to a stop near an access tunnel to a complex beneath Reeves Dam.

"That's why I want to share that work with you," Lex explained, the absolute picture of charm and kindness, as the driver got out and held the door open for them to get out, "because of your passion, and your... understanding."

He gestured out through the door, to the tunnel gate that was already sliding open for them, revealing the cool clean fluorescence-lit tunnel beyond.

"After you," he prompted, "Misty."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose.

"Right." I said, my voice thick with emotion. "He's stable, and on his way to one of the best hospitals in the country. Can you call your mom to come get up please?"

"I'm on it," Rose promised him, and was already half out of her seat, her phone switching on as she lifted it to her ear, giving Mrs. Summers a look that spoke volumes about how much of a crap Rose gave right now about mobile phones during school hours. "I'm all the way all over it."

Rose stood beside Kyle and squeezed Kyle's shoulder as the phone trilled in her ear.

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

Let's Do This

Kara was constantly tapping the end of her pencil against the surface of her desk as she thought about earlier, when her boyfriend had "asked" that she take the rest of the day off from classes to join him downtown. Part of her wanted to go, but the other half knew that she should resist temptation and stay on track. Her eyes glanced over to the window and she sighed.

Pulling herself back together, Kara remained focused for the rest of the class, scribbling down notes and memorizing facts. Her brain worked quickly to absorb the new material, and she had very little trouble recalling what she had written down without actually looking at her notebook.

Part of her alien heritage, she supposed.

The bell rang, and Kara joined the rest of her classmates in scurrying out the door. She had just gotten into the hallway when she felt someone tug at her arm.

It was Eric.

"Hey," she said with a look of surprise. "I thought you were going out?"

"I decided to stick around and wait. I'm sorry about earlier."

Kara smiled, leaning up on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"It's okay. You want to walk me to my next class?"

"Sure," Eric responded, turning his body so that he could walk next to her, his hand reaching down to clasp with hers. They had only been walking for less than a minute when Eric suddenly stopped, pulling her off to the side and away from the heavy traffic pouring through the hallways.

"I just remembered something," he said, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out a small jewelry case. "Our class rings finally came in."

"Cool," Kara said with a warm smile, watching eagerly as he opened it up and pulled his ring. The golden ring he pulled out had the school mascot engraved on one side, and on the other was his graduating year with a soccer ball underneath it. What was most impressive, however, was the glittering red stone that was faceted into the ring.

"Put it on."

"But it's your ring," Kara protested.

"I know, but you're my girl. It's a tradition," he insisted. Kara seemed confused by the gesture, but she picked up the ring anyways.

As soon as Kara slid the ring onto her finger the veins in her hands became blood red and raced through her body before disappearing. Her eyes were as red flames for a moment before they too returned to normal. She relaxed her body as if the heavy weight of the world had been lifted entirely from her shoulders.

"Kara, you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm great."

 

[Tymeless]

Misty sat there quietly waiting for Lex to finish his conversation on the phone. She still couldn't believe that this rich and powerful man would spend so much time with her. He had made it very clear that this meeting with him was going to be very important. He had made no stops when picking her up and the trip to what appeared to be a facility in his company. His passion on the phone got a well up in her pride to know this man. He seemed sincerie in his wanting to help the country.

She straightened her business like black skirt ot make sure she still looked presentable. As she listened to him talk and followed him into the building. She had made up her mind early on that she would do nearly anything Lex had asked of her. After all he had done for her family to help save her father from his fate. They had moved to Metropolis soon after that but Lex had kept in constant contact with them since they had left and Misty had been treated to only the best of everything since then.

She looked at the handsome man before her smiling sweetly. "Lex just tell me what I can do to help you. I still owe you for everything that you have done for my family."

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

And we're driving... just as fast as we can.

"You know what... I think taking the rest of the day off sounds like a good idea."

"What happened to 'I can't afford any more absences'?"

"I changed my mind. Come on. Let's go."

"Alright. I'll get my coat."

While Eric ran to his locker to get his coat, Kara grabbed her own belongings and then followed him out to the parking lot. She climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut behind her. Within minutes they were driving away from the school and towards the village.

"Can't this piece of junk go any faster?" Kara complained, rolling down her window despite the frigid temperature outside. The cold didn't bother her, but it bothered Eric who used the automatic control by his door to roll it back up. Kara shot him a look of disappointment and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She twisted his class ring around her finger a few times but left it on. She probably would have left it on even if he had asked for it back.

Ever since putting it on she felt different. She felt better. She felt...

"Stop."

"What?"

"Stop the car. I want to check something out," Kara said, and Eric pulled the car over to the curb. Without waiting, Kara pushed the door open and stepped out. Her eyes glanced up towards the Sentinels of Magic shop. There was a bit of a jingle when she walked in through the door, her eyes glancing around the room.

"The Sheriff had to break up a barn rave not long ago, but I doubt that's the sort of thing yeh're looking for."

"Who's having a barn rave?" Kara inquired with a devilish smile, walking inside with Eric following after her. She moved over to where the women were sitting and picked up what remained of Ceri's crepe. "Thanks," she said, taking a decent bite out of it and then nodding in satisfaction.

"Mmm. Not great but... definitely better than cafeteria food."

 

[AmenRa]

The Man in Black

Var-Sen walked Smallville High's hallways until he came to the small classroom that served as the office for The Torch.

He tried the door, and found it unlocked. He walked inside the room, not bothering to turn on the lights. He walked over to the far wall at the end of the room and looked at the montage of photos and articles that were tacked to the bulletin board there.

Chloe had called it her 'Wall of Weird'.

He remembered seeing an image on the wall, a photo of a Kryptonian language symbol. He saw it again. And he remembered the first time seeing it, remembered how it had lead him to the Kawatche cave. How it had spurred him to admonish Chloe to 'look deeper'.

Which again reminded him that he needed to access the cave's console to send a message to Raya on Sanctuary. He would do that shortly, after he had given Kara the data crystal.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceri.

There was a bit of a jingle when she walked in through the door, her eyes glancing around the room.

"The Sheriff had to break up a barn rave not long ago, but I doubt that's the sort of thing yeh're looking for."

She heard the door jingle, she heard it open behind her, but she didn't glance up until she heard the young woman speak...

"Who's having a barn rave?" Kara inquired with a devilish smile, walking inside with Eric following after her.

Ceri frowned softly, a bit bewildered, suffering a dash of cognitive dissonance at seeing The Kent Girl so out of context. "(Kara?)"

She shook her head. "No-one's having a barn rave, that I know of. This was-- weeks ago, why--?"

She moved over to where the women were sitting and picked up what remained of Ceri's crepe. "Thanks," she said, taking a decent bite out of it and then nodding in satisfaction.

Well, at least she hadn't lost all of her manners. Picking off of someone else's plate was unexpected to say the least, but at least she said thank you.

Still. There was something off.

Nothing tangible. Utterly intuitive.

Her mother sense was tingling.

Maybe it was just the body language? Or maybe it was just the natural disciplinarian in her. ...not that she had a stone to throw in this department, she'd given Rose a "skip day" earlier in the year, after all.

Probably it was nothing.

But maybe it was something.

"Mmm. Not great but... definitely better than cafeteria food."

"Well," Ceri allowed, "it would be that."

She smiled as gently as she could, again underemphasising the gap between her teeth.

"Zatanna Zatara," she explained, "this is Kara Kent, a friend of my daughter's. And this is her boyfriend, Eric Marshall. (Hulloh, Eric, good to see yeh.) Kara, Eric, this is Zatanna's shop. And I'm sure you've both met Dinah Cain."

Keeping her voice perfectly pleasant, bereft of accusatory tone, Ceri glanced from Eric to Kara.

"Spending lunch period off-campus, isn't it?" she mused. "That's fun. S'nice that they've extended that privilege to more than just Seniors, now."

(The school hadn't, so far as Ceri knew, done anything of the kind. Only Seniors could go off-campus during the schoolday, and that only if they were on Senior Privilege. But Ceri was doing her best to allow stalwart Kara the benefit of the doubt...)

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

"No-one's having a barn rave, that I know of. This was-- weeks ago, why--?"

"Shame. I was just curious," Kara had mumbled right before taking the bite out of the crepe.

"Thanks. Not great but... definitely better than cafeteria food."

"Well, it would be that."

Kara looked at Ceri, seeing her smile but sensing some restrained hostility. She didn't feel threatened, of course. Certainly not be her. Not by anyone, really. She was actually rather amused by the thought. Regardless, introductions were made with Eric uttering most of the "hello's" while Kara stood by quietly, glancing around the store. The place didn't exactly fit in with the rest of Smallville's personal businesses, and it put Kara on edge a little.

A magic shop.

"Hmmf."

"Spending lunch period off-campus, isn't it?" she mused. "That's fun. S'nice that they've extended that privilege to more than just Seniors, now."

"Yeah, actually I just wanted to get out of there. It was such a nice day out... and I thought 'a bit of a drive' was in order," Kara said, mimicking Ceri's accent and returning to the conversation. "You can't learn everything in a classroom. Certainly not in this town," she added, her voice trailing off as she turned to go.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Lex. Et al.

As she listened to him talk and followed him into the building.

The first few yards of the tunnel were dank and mouldy, as one might expect from such a locale. But after that, the walls and floors took on a silvery, steely sheen. The place began to resemble more something constructed out of a science fiction series.

But, as Lex had learned very early in life, the boundary between science fiction and science fact was in this world growing increasingly blurry.

He wore a black suit, with a black tie and black slacks and a black suit coat, tailored perfectly. He wore a burgundy button-down shirt and let the suit coat hang open, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked.

She looked at the handsome man before her smiling sweetly. "Lex just tell me what I can do to help you. I still owe you for everything that you have done for my family."

He smiled back at her, a lopsided, appreciative little smile.

"Now," he held up a finger, nodding to her, "as grateful as I am that you've agreed to this so quickly, I don't want you to do this for me, not out of some misplaced sense of... obligation. I want you to be sure. I want you to do this for you, so long as you think it's the right thing to do."

They walked up to a great pair of interlocking doors obstructing the tunnel, at which point Lex calmly took a card out of a pocket and swiped it, pocketing the card again as hydraulics hissed and steam vented and the doors irised open wide.

"Let's have a look around," he suggested, offering her his arm, "before you agree to anything at all."

He led them into the tunnel, deeper.

Logos engraved those silvery metal walls, resembling the double helix of the human genetic code.

Doors led into rooms from either side of the hallway. Countless doors.

Occasionally, Lex would stop at doors and swipe his card and the doors would open, permitting him a glance inside. Each of these rooms had a different jaw-dropping exhibit displayed therein.

In one room, a great cylindrical tank reached from floor to ceiling, containing bubbling, nearly-opaque fluids. Lex actually walked into this one, walking up to the tank and peering closely at its glassy surface. Something moved deep within, something huge, with thickly-carpeting fur floating in the eddies of the fluids. There was, perhaps, the gleam of a tusk or two.

Around its throat there was a blackly metallic collar resembling that of a neck brace.

Lex touched the glass briefly, murmuring: "(Hello, David.)"

(If Misty were to hear any thoughts from within the glass, they would be deep and slow, like the thoughts of a woolly mammoth awakening from a millennia-long icy slumber. Dawning, elongated thoughts, impossibly simple, the dreams of a cavechild.

There was a thought of pain. And sacrifice.

And devotion to duty.

If Lex had a thought in his head, it did not reveal itself.)

Lex then turned and walked away without saying another word, leading Misty deeper into the labyrinth, the corridor beginning to twist and to turn.

He opened another door, and this one was rather cavernous, somewhere between a garage and a small hangar. And at the center of this room, surrounded by a vast array of fabrication equipment, was a half-constructed machine.

It resembled a tank that could walk like a man, ten metres tall, and its armoured surfaces were purple and green, ostensibly painted in a camouflage-esque pattern.

On one of the workbenches sat a matching dome shape of the same material. Lex regarded this with some scrutiny, as though this particular aspect of the machine was the most important to him.

Again, he turned and walked from that place and led Misty away.

Another card swipe, another door opened, and this door led to a laboratory, mysterious and strange.

More fluids bubbled in beakers, more computer screens displayed data, than could be easily glanced at and counted without making one feel a bit dizzy.

One of the screens displayed satellite and aerial photography of a wide white expanse, perhaps Antarctica.

Another screen displayed multiple flickering flashing images, resembling an alphabet of some sort, the same images over and over again though in no concrete order, this alphabet in turn spelling out incomprehensible words. Beside this screen was another with a half-composed e-mail addressed to Lionel Luthor, although the e-mail browser resembled not the standard LuthorCorp masthead, but something called "Cadmus Labs Metropolis."

Another screen, not far from the pictogram display, was a photograph of what looked like a bared midriff with a burn that appeared to resemble one of those "letters."

Still another screen displayed a schematic of the half-unfinished machine in that hangar bay.

A row of glass jars contained samples of glowing rock.

Blue, silver, red, green, so very much green, a stone of white minerals, and beside these, an empty jar.

Beside the empty jar stood Doctor Emil Hamilton, holding a black gleaming hunk of gem in the palm of his metal cybernetic hand.

He glanced up at Lex's approach, and then at the young lady beside him.

"Lex," he nodded, simply, respectfully, solemnly, and then did the same to Misty: "Miss Graves."

Lex nodded back. "Doctor."

(If Misty were to hear a thought from Emil Hamilton, it would come out strange and garbled, as though through thick smog from a faraway distance. He had, after all, received the same probe-obfuscating defences as had his brother.

Lex's mind was strangely, peacefully silent, just as it always had been of late.)

Again, Lex fiddled briefly, subconsciously, with his pinky ring, and touched Misty on the shoulder.

"Doctor Hamilton's a busy man," he informed Misty. "We'll touch base with him later."

"Indeed," Emil nodded.

And again, Lex led her away.

Lex hesitated before swiping the next door open. "This one is going to be. Difficult to swallow. Please. Bear with me."

And then the card struck home, and the door hissed wide, and Lex stepped through.

Within was what could charitably have been described a prison cell. Again, the science fiction influence was felt here, as this unit resembled a more terrestrial version of the "brig" from The Next Generation of Star Trek.

(Closer to home, this was a prototype for containment units that would be utilised by a government watchdog group called The DRI once they had secured funding to mobilise in a troublesome Californian hotspot. Homeland Security might not want anything to do with LuthorCorp tech, but Uncle Sam still knew who to call when they wanted troublemakers boxed up.)

In the cell, on the floor, sat a young woman dressed in a black jumpsuit, a face not entirely unfamiliar to Misty Graves. Her hair was black for the most part, but three months' worth of growth had revealed long blonde roots. She had her knees hunched up to her chest, her arms crossed atop those knees, and her forehead resting on those arms.

Glancing up at Lex, haggard brown eyes narrowed bitterly.

Lex regarded her quietly, patiently, almost apologetically. "Hello, Erin. Comfortable?"

Without a word, she lifted one arm and the hand attached to it, a middle finger extended.

(Her thought was clear as a bell, and utterly impolite: 'Fuck you and the silver spoon you rode in on.')

On that up-thrust wrist gleamed a metallic bracelet, resembling a vambrace. A serial number adorned the bracelet.

Slowly, however, she lowered that hand, as she realised Lex was not alone.

She frowned as recognition slowly dawned. It had been more than three months since she'd seen the girl, but it had been something of a memorable day. One might say it had been burned into her memory.

"Motormouth," she murmured. "Tried to help me. At SMC. You an' that British guy. Didn't know what you were talking about, but you tried to help me."

But then she scowled. "Then again. You were with him."

She rose to her feet and pressed her palms to the glass, shaking her head.

She smiled a sad little scary little smile. "And here you are again."

The woman Lex had called "Erin" seemed utterly exhausted, and yet defiant.

And when she looked Misty square in the eyes, her thought was again unequivocal: ('Keep your mouth shut or else.')

Lex shook his head at her. "We've taken your pain away, Erin. How long has it been since the scar on your abdomen has even tingled in the slightest? We've done you a favour. All I ask is a favour in return."

Erin harrumphed, and turned away from the two of them, sitting down on the floor of her cell and huddling again.

('I'm not talking to you.')

Lex stared at Erin's bejumpsuited back for a moment, and then turned away, silently signalling that Misty should walk with him.

The door pulled closed behind them and Lex let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry, again, for that," he shook his head. "I should have known she wouldn't deign to be civilised in front of honoured guests."

Swiping the card one last time, another door opened and Lex led Misty into a beautifully appointed office.

There was a desk, and comfortable chairs, standing in stark contrast to the sheer metal of the walls.

The room was decorated with what appeared to be mementos of past adventures, maps and artefacts and charts and diagrams, most of which were stored in glass cases on pedestals.

One contained a small metal box.

One contained a globe with several bullet holes.

One contained an urn, as one might use to contain a cremated loved one.

And one contained a small comic magazine depicting a winged being holding a car aloft with mighty arms.

Lex sat behind his desk, and rubbed his face with both hands, and smiled apologetically at Misty.

"It's a great deal to take in, I know, and-- I keep saying this," he shook his head, seeming almost... haunted, like a martyr before the gallows, burdened by his visions but committed even unto death, "I'm sorry."

He gestured to one of the chairs across from his desk. "Please. Misty. Have a seat."

"I'll gladly answer any questions you have. So long as it's in my power to do so, I'm going to be perfectly honest with you."

 

[Tymeless]

Misty followed Lex around the lab some of it was beyond impressive. She actually felt like she was in some of those science fiction movies her dad liked to watch Star something or was it battlestar something, she couldn't remember because it never really held her interest. As they went from room to room She could feel the mental pain coming from each and every organism or person that they had come to but their thoughts were so cluttered and disorganised she couldn't find what was causing them such anguish.

She got these feelings even from Dr. Hamilton and Erin a girl she was familiar with and felt compassion for. If Lex was going to offer her a way to try and help any and all these souls she would accept without a doubt whatever Lex was going to ask of her.

When Lex offered her a seat Misty held her short business like skirt down against her legs to avoid revealing anything embarassing to Lex, although to Lex she really wouldn't mind. After she had sat down making sure everything was smooth and presentable in her black business suit she crossed her legs to look as professional and feminine as possible. "I appreciate you wanting to be honest with me and I appreciate you wanting me to make my own decision on whether to help you or not." She paused, "That means a lot to me that you could value someone like me that much. So please start filling me in so I can make a decision for you as quickly as possible." She sat there trying to get a read on Lex even trying to scan him for his thoughts. She wasn't sure why she couldn't but she hadn't been able to read Lex for awhile now and she wasn't sure if that should bother her or her powers were starting to fade already.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Chloe. "The Undiscovere'd Country, from whose bourn no Traveller returns..."

Chloe, too, found the office to The Torch unlocked.

Chloe, too, stepped into the office in darkness.

But lacking the miracle that was Kryptonian eyesight, Chloe snapped the lights on. And stopped cold, eyes widening, a chill racing up her spine, wishing she had asked Merick and his forcefields to come with her to visit The Bard.

"Hey, what are you--"

And then perfectly human eyes locked onto the man in black. The Man in Black.

And she stopped, just inside the doorway, smiling a lopsided little disbelieving smile.

"'A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty "Hi-ho, Silver, away!"'" she proclaimed, emphatic, in her best radio announcer voice.

The smile quieted, became admiring instead of disbelieving. "'The Lone Ranger.'"

"...hello, Professor Smith."

 

[Varshanka]

Zatanna

She could feel the wrongness as soon as she heard the door tinkle softly. She could feel the otherness the corruption of truth. Most would say it was a hyperemotional state. Goosebumps. She called it the ‘weirding way’ for it was weird for most. It was the otherness leaking through to here.

Looking up she half slid from her seat, fingers flexing as her wand slipped into it. Her lips glistening as she prepared to speak, and then the Malar entered from the back room, it’s heavily muscled form in protective mode looking more like a great mastiff or other hound, then either of it’s other forms.

As it was it’s claws clacked on the floor as it walked out, prowling and watching, it to sensed something not right, but it’s senses were not honed for magic. Just danger.

“Leeh, Ralam.” She whispered, commanding the guardian to heel, even as her heels settled on the floor and she finished rising. “Greetings and welcome to the Sentinels of Magic.”

 

[ChasNicollette]

Elsewhere. With others.

The tavern was called World's End.

An everlasting port in an eternal storm.

Snow slashed the air outside, and wind whipped about like an undertow's drowning currents.

A man sat at the bar, hunched and scowling, more dwarf than man, barely five feet in height. His feet did not touch the ground as he sat atop his barstool.

He held a beer stein close as some men might hold a lover. The collar of his brown leather jacket was turned up, revealing white woolen lining. The brow of his cowboy hat was turned down, obscuring his face.

The doors swung, and in strode a figure dressed utterly in black. He wore black like the night wore black, as though it were part and parcel with him. He had a beautiful face-- youthful yet strong --and agonised eyes and a steel about him.

He shook the snow off of his coat and glanced about World's End as though he had a gaze that penetrated every shadowy corner.

The man at the bar moved not a muscle, save those of his nostrils, which flared. He smirked faintly, and then turned, pushing that cowboy hat back on his head to reveal an ancient, craggy face with eyes of uncertain colour and certain intensity that gazed back at the newcomer.

The newcomer's eyes found the ancient's, and no smile nor smirk adorned his lips. He moved to the bar, and took a stool beside the hunched-over man.

"Angelus," the man harrumphed, with a voice like gravel trickling down a mountain.

"Logan," Angelus replied, fearless yet cautious, as though approaching a being who might and could behead him at any moment, but probably wouldn't. Probably.

Logan glanced at the bartender, narrowed his eyes of uncertain colour. "Got any pig's blood? M'friend'll have a pitcher."

Angelus jutted his chin, an upwards nod, to the creature behind the counter with long dark hair. "Thanks."

The bartender snorted, shook his head and with it his darksome mane, and clomped four hooves to the stores in back.

Logan examined Angelus with deep scrutiny. "It is still pig's blood, right? Yer still a born-again?"

Angelus nodded. "Had a relapse. Got sucked into Hell."

Logan grunted.

Angelus shrugged. "I got better."

The centaur behind the counter returned with a pitcher of darkly crimson liquid and a mug the size of Logan's. Logan pushed multiple colours of Canadian bills at him. The centaur snorted again, examining the palmful of cash disdainfully, and trotted further down the bar.

"Tell me again why we ain't meetin' at Honest John's?" Logan griped.

"Because of who The Trenchcoat Brigade are sending," Angel replied, a dismally ironic tone in his voice. "Apparently he's run up quite a tab."

Logan narrowed his eyes. And flared his nostrils.

And a new figure strode through the door.

Logan scrunched his eyes shut. "Christ."

"Close enough," smirked John Constantine as he sat beside Logan on the other side of him, putting a fistful of euros across the bar for the returning centaur. "Ardbeg, if yeh would. Cheers."

The centaur scowled, and went to look for the smoky single malt.

"Constantine," Logan shook his head. "When did ya get out o' Ravenscar?"

"Three moons ago, give or take," Constantine mused, lighting a Silk Cut with the flare of a match. "Wotcher, Angel. Still dead?"

Angel smiled faintly. "So far so good."

"Yeah," Constantine smirked, blowing smoke. "Count your blessings."

"Rupert sends his regards," Angel replied, speaking of Watchers but choosing not to speak of blessings or curses, "and his regrets."

"Oul' Ripper," John shook his head. "Shame 'e 'ad ter miss th' party. Teddy's shacked up wiv an oul' flame, 'e's no good ter us."

Logan harrumphed. "Same wi' Duncan an' Connor. (Not th' ol' flame part, th' regards an' regrets.) An' Mitch is busy wi' the usual stuff. Which I guess just leaves us. We all know what's goin' down? Who's comin' ta dinner?"

"Yeah," John nodded. "Early this time. When was th' last time, ninety-fhree?"

"The Edicts are a little muddled on that point," Angel opined. "Some translations read 'every hundred years,' some read 'every century.' It's a new century, now."

"Is it?" Logan narrowed his eyes. "I lose track. Anyway. Sefton drilled it inta me that we hadda watch out fer our special guest, E's still on th' warpath from last time."

John scowled. "E is, is 'e? Well, E's a pain in my arse, 'e is, no matter what timeline 'e's on."

"So it's guard duty," Angel declared, reasonably. "That leaves me out. I've got a babysitting detail of my own at the moment, and I don't just mean The Hellmouth."

"Things're pretty busy in my neck o' th' woods," Logan chimed in. "I didn't nap on th' Blackbird, I'd never have time ta sleep."

Constantine stared sullenly into his glass of single malt, his cigarette wilting between his fingers, neglected. "Bollocks. I'm not going."

Angel and Logan stared at Constantine. Stared hard.

"No," Constantine scowled. "No. Just. No. It's bluddy Smallville for fuck's sake, I've at least two exes there and th' last time I went there ter 'arvest star-ore I got 'alf-savaged by a Kawatche werefhingy."

Then there came a noise carried on the wind of the winter storm.

A familiar noise. A noise that could evoke goosebumps even in vampire skin, that could send chills up even Adamantium spines.

A noise that heralded...

The doors opened again.

And in there stood a man, a tall thin spiky-haired man who wore black as well as did Angel. A black suit, a black shirt, a black tie.

And a brown coat.

And green shoes.

And a silver amulet.

"'Im," John winced. "Th' 'im what eh'n't 'im."

"That's him all right," Angel nodded.

"That a new suit?" Logan wondered, idly.

This new fellow strolled up to the bar, met the centaur's eyes.

"Virgin daiquiri," he requested. "Banana. Please."

The centaur nodded, and without a hint of complaint went to fetch the blender.

The tall man sat beside John Constantine, and smiled a devillish smile.

John refused to look at him again, staring hard into his glass, dragging hard on his cigarette. "I'm not getting out uv this, am I?"

"No, John," replied the tall man, "it has to be you. And I hate to tell you this, but by the time you get there?"

"...you'll be up to three exes in Smallville."

John Constantine slammed shut his eyes. "Buggery."