[hider=Look! Up in the sky!][CENTER][COLOR=a7d5da][B]C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L[/B][/COLOR] [img]https://i.imgur.com/Zu4Cuhc.png[/img] [sup][color=0e95e3][b]"Not a bird. Definitely not a plane."[/b][/color][/sup][h3][sup][sub] [img]https://i.imgur.com/xeH6voO.png[/img] [color=0e95e3][b] Clark Joseph Kent [/b][color=83ccfe]♦[/color][b] Intern At The Daily Planet [/b][color=83ccfe]♦[/color][b] Metropolis[/b][/color][/sub][/sup][/h3][/CENTER] [COLOR=57baff][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3] O R I G I N S:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR] [INDENT][INDENT][color=83ccfe]The City of Metropolis, 1994. On the heels of a breakthrough discovery by STAR Labs director and renowned astrophysicist Doctor Alexander Luthor, something went horribly wrong. After a beacon was inadvertently shot into the vast reaches of deep space carrying an extraterrestrial code, meteors began to appear in the skies directly above. And with their arrival came absolute devastation. Buildings were smashed, cars were flattened, and explosions rippled across the skyline. A brilliant emerald fire consumed the heavens, striking below at helpless pedestrians and leaving a trail of massive craters for miles. And in the private lab in the bowels of STAR's main facility, Luthor lay nearly lifeless, disfigured with burns. But with this devastation came a life-changing discovery by a kindly couple from Kansas. Having recently moved into the city to start a corner grocery store in Suicide Slums, Jonathan and Martha Kent heard a massive boom erupt just beyond their shop's walls. Thinking only of potential harm having come to one of their neighbors, they both bravely ventured into the destruction to try and help - and instead found a small silver craft with unrecognizable symbols etched into it, it's hull revealing an infant baby shielded inside. Taking the child into their arms, they immediately returned to safety for it's sake before helping survivors. By the time Jonathan returned to the crater, the craft had destroyed itself. The true nature of the baby's arrival was never discovered, as the Kents decided to adopt the child as their own, hoping to teach him how to exist within the confines of a city being rebuilt from the ground up - becoming 'The City Of Tomorrow', as shaped by the now reclusive billionaire Luthor. But it became clear as he matured that their son Clark was developing in ways no other child would - that no other human [i]could[/i]. The Kents went to great lengths to protect the nature of his strange abilities, teaching him right from wrong in a city that threatened to swallow up their old-fashioned goodwill in a siege of technological prowess. Still, they were never able to curtail Clark's boundless need to utilize his gifts - perhaps to atone for the violent nature of his arrival, perhaps because he simply needed to let it out of his system. A need that he carried with him into adulthood, where he has recently been granted a journalism internship for The Daily Planet, the television news network that employs Lois Lane, James Olsen, Cat Grant, and the legendary anchor-turned-news director Perry White. For his part, Clark didn't plan on revealing his powers to the world... but he also didn't plan to accompany Lane and Olsen on an assignment the very same day that a madman named Winslow Schott decided to attack the city with a series of [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mechanical_Monsters#/media/File:Superman-mechanical-monster.jpg]heavily modified attack drones[/url].[/color][/indent][/indent] [COLOR=57baff][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]S A M P L E P O S T:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][INDENT] [hider=First Impressions][quote]"How's it hanging, rookie?" Surprised, Clark Kent glanced over at one of his approaching senior co-workers as he finished preparing a fresh pot of coffee in the breakroom. It wasn't out of any sense of genuine fear on his part, but despite being officially interning for The Daily Planet for at least three days? Barely anyone had said so much as a word to him. The announcement of his arrival to the network had barely even been audible, between the introductions of a few others joining the staff - a kid named Troupe hired as a field correspondent, a woman in her mid-thirties named Izquierdo being transferred in as a producer - and the immediate devolution into a staff-wide debate on how to handle a chaotic breaking story, so Clark more than understood any confusion. But the complete inability to notice or greet him whatsoever was new. The man was only seemingly a couple of years younger, if that, sporting a thin orange beard and nicely cut hair to match. He was instantly recognizable based solely on his vest, which was made of a thick material and covered in deep pockets. This was The Daily Planet's primary field cameraperson, a man whose picture was one of the lucky few to adorn the wall to the lobby of the building. He exuded a confidence that nearly took Clark aback, but it was a friendly kind of confidence. The kind that he had yet to see around the office so far. "Uh, there's coffee." Clark meekly pushed his glasses against the bridge of his nose, before sticking his hand out. "Hello. I'm one of the interns." "Interns? Oh! Right, you guys. I forget that old man Perry hires a couple of you around this time of year to break up the monotony. You're in for a wild ride, let me tell you." Clasping Clark's hand with a firm grip, the man grinned. "Name's Olsen. People call me Jim. I prefer Jimmy, if you don't mind." Clark quietly breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed by at least one count, the abrasive world of nightly news wasn't as abrasive as it had appeared to be. "Clark Kent. Nice to meet you." As Olsen began to speak about how the coffee in the breakroom was the best in all the city, aswell as recommend a couple of good local spots to get a fresh cup for the lunch commute, Clark's ears automatically attuned to a couple of voices coming from the other side of the massive studio building. Having become used to this, Clark instinctively began to feign attention to Jimmy's rambling. He legitimately wanted to engage with the friendly co-worker, but it was as if his ears had a mind of their own. Listening in on conversations he would otherwise never hear or even know about was just one of the many burdens that came with Clark's series of "talents", as his mother affectionately called them. [i]"Are you kidding me?! That Luthor piece was a ratings smash in the making, Perry!" "Ratings don't really mean much when they could invoke an army of litigators, Lois. You know that, considering the amount of them you've brought to our door..." "Oh, like I asked for a Senator to cheat on his wife with a Mayoral candidate!" "The station's still paying out to their campaign..." "Regardless! Lex Luthor has been one of the top newsmakers in Metropolis since before you were even going gray. Which should tell you something about how long it's been..." "Watch it." "...and we finally put together a potential lead into why the rich weirdo's been hiding out in that literal ivory tower of his, but you want to kill it? What exactly does he even have to sue us for?" "With the story? I'm not sure yet. With you being the one to read it on air? Plenty. Your objectivity has been waning in the past few months. You've been creating soundbites for the internet to stick every pitchfork they have at." "It's called editorializing. Which I seem to remember you hiring me for in the first place." "When you were behind a desk! When you were behind a desk and absolutely nobody had to pay the consequences for the things that came out of your mouth." "S'a bit sexist, chief." "First of all, your ability to spin things like this defies any gender-based discrimination. Secondly, DON'T call me..." "The point is. The Planet finally has an angle to work from on the day-to-day of one of the world's wealthiest men on the cusp of a new scientific discovery. It's news, and you can't tell me otherwise." "It is news, that I'll grant you." "So why are you..." "You seem to be confused about this request. And I'm calling it a request very generously because you're on my very last straw. I'm not asking the story to be buried altogether. I'm asking that you not be the one to deliver it when we go live." "I'm the host of the damn program!" "Yeah, and I'm starting to wonder for how long." "What?!" "How long you stay in that position, how long this station even exists at the rate you keep taking the legal department into court..." "So, what, I should be more like you? Is that what you're asking? I should start developing a catchphrase to sell on the mugs in the station gift shop while being told to ignore the big stories?" "You damn well know that I didn't come up with the Great Ceasar's Ghost thing. That was a producer's dumb idea in 1997, and it's haunted me ever since." "The mug sitting on your desk right now begs to differ..." "Lane. I'm telling you now. You're off the story. You wanna take on something in the field with Olsen, be my guest. But as far as the main broadcast is concerned, Cat's got it covered for tonight. By my request." "Oh, screw you, White!" "Lane? Lane! Get back here! We're not done! Great Caesar's... goddammit!"[/i] Clark blinked once, unable to grasp the nature of the argument that he'd just heard. "...and then there's Bibbowski's on 7th and Morrison. Bee-autiful selection of cocktails if you get there before the afternoon rush." "Oh, I... don't drink, actually." "To be honest? Me neither. I prefer a mountain of Red Bulls. But I like telling people about it, because believe me, a month here and you'll be desperate for something to kill the nerves." As he and Olsen continued the mundane chat, he noticed a beautiful dark-haired woman fuming and muttering unrepeatable words at no one in particular as she cut across the news floor with a vengeance, a fresh pack of cigarettes visible in her back pocket. This was confirmed to be Lois Lane as she passed a giant mural on the far wall with her face plastered several feet high, paradoxically smiling widely and exuding an on-camera friendliness that didn't seem possible from the person he'd just heard. Clark sighed. Even with all of his "talents", he didn't know if he was cut out for this business.[/quote][/hider] [/indent][/indent] [COLOR=57baff][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]P O S T C A T A L O G:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][INDENT][i]A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.[/i][/indent][/indent][/hider]