Post by Clark Kent on Oct 13, 2012 21:10:22 GMT -4
Clark opened his aquamarine eyes and fell onto his bed as he awoke, yawning once his back hit the soft mattress. He had slept in midair—as was his habit—all night. That actually had been one of the instances in which he had discovered that he was different. When he was twelve or thirteen he had been dreaming of flying, and when he woke up he could have sworn he was floating. He ran around the farm the next day trying to fly, only able to jump up to an alarming ten to twenty feet. He quit at the end of the day and never tried to do it again.
His first flight occurred the night of his father’s funeral. His mother took him out to the shed to show him the rocket she and his father had found him in. As she explained how they had seen the rocket land, he grew more and more upset until he took off running. He had made his way to the edge of a cliff inadvertently and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to fall to his doom—but found himself floating in midair. Ever since then, flight had been his favorite power.
The Kryptonian rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking at his clock. It was six—he didn’t have his interview with Norman Osborn. Apparently Oscorp—one of LexCorp’s competitors—was rolling out a new robot and was unveiling it to the public the next day. Clark had landed the coveted story and interview, much to Lois’s ire he was sure, and had just arrived in New York the previous day. He had been to the city several times, and was more than glad to be there again.
He decided to take a walk before breakfast to kill time. He managed to get a shower, shave, brush his teeth, and get dressed in well under five minutes thanks to his super-speed. Soon he was exiting the hotel lobby, dressed in a red and black checkered flannel shirt, jeans, and a thick canvas jacket. He tucked his hands into his pocket and began walking along the sidewalk.
Even though it was a Saturday, and it was early, there were still plenty of people out at that time of day, giving the city the well-deserved nickname, ‘The City that Never Sleeps.’ Metropolis was a little like New York in that sense as well.
Unfortunately it wasn’t too early for crime. He was only about a block from his hotel when he heard screaming from an alleyway across the street. Normal human beings wouldn’t hear it over the roar of engines going up and down the street along with the honks of cars, trucks, and taxi cabs, but he heard everything.
“Stop! Please!”
“Hold still or I’ll blow out your brains.”
“Help! He-“
Clark looked around frantically for a place to change. He needed to intervene, and fast. But it was so crowded. Gritting his teeth, he crossed the street and entered the alleyway, seeing a man pinning a woman up against a wall with a gun cocked against her temple. Neither the woman nor the man saw him, so he sped into the man from behind and grabbed him by the waist, soaring up into the air at super-speed. The man tried to turn around and glance at his face, but he slammed his fist into the side of his head before he could, knocking him out cold.
He took off his glasses and tucked them in his pocket before flying the man to the police station and dropping him off in front with a hastily scrawled note explaining the situation, prior to zooming off again. He hoped no one had seen him. He was moving faster than the naked eye could see, but he needed to be more cautious. He landed near an abandoned warehouse and changed into his uniform, tucking his clothes under a crate and leaping into the air. He soared over the city at a leisurely pace, keeping his eyes peeled for trouble.
His first flight occurred the night of his father’s funeral. His mother took him out to the shed to show him the rocket she and his father had found him in. As she explained how they had seen the rocket land, he grew more and more upset until he took off running. He had made his way to the edge of a cliff inadvertently and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to fall to his doom—but found himself floating in midair. Ever since then, flight had been his favorite power.
The Kryptonian rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking at his clock. It was six—he didn’t have his interview with Norman Osborn. Apparently Oscorp—one of LexCorp’s competitors—was rolling out a new robot and was unveiling it to the public the next day. Clark had landed the coveted story and interview, much to Lois’s ire he was sure, and had just arrived in New York the previous day. He had been to the city several times, and was more than glad to be there again.
He decided to take a walk before breakfast to kill time. He managed to get a shower, shave, brush his teeth, and get dressed in well under five minutes thanks to his super-speed. Soon he was exiting the hotel lobby, dressed in a red and black checkered flannel shirt, jeans, and a thick canvas jacket. He tucked his hands into his pocket and began walking along the sidewalk.
Even though it was a Saturday, and it was early, there were still plenty of people out at that time of day, giving the city the well-deserved nickname, ‘The City that Never Sleeps.’ Metropolis was a little like New York in that sense as well.
Unfortunately it wasn’t too early for crime. He was only about a block from his hotel when he heard screaming from an alleyway across the street. Normal human beings wouldn’t hear it over the roar of engines going up and down the street along with the honks of cars, trucks, and taxi cabs, but he heard everything.
“Stop! Please!”
“Hold still or I’ll blow out your brains.”
“Help! He-“
Clark looked around frantically for a place to change. He needed to intervene, and fast. But it was so crowded. Gritting his teeth, he crossed the street and entered the alleyway, seeing a man pinning a woman up against a wall with a gun cocked against her temple. Neither the woman nor the man saw him, so he sped into the man from behind and grabbed him by the waist, soaring up into the air at super-speed. The man tried to turn around and glance at his face, but he slammed his fist into the side of his head before he could, knocking him out cold.
He took off his glasses and tucked them in his pocket before flying the man to the police station and dropping him off in front with a hastily scrawled note explaining the situation, prior to zooming off again. He hoped no one had seen him. He was moving faster than the naked eye could see, but he needed to be more cautious. He landed near an abandoned warehouse and changed into his uniform, tucking his clothes under a crate and leaping into the air. He soared over the city at a leisurely pace, keeping his eyes peeled for trouble.