@Sep Nobody can say you haven't given a good go at it if you do decide to drop Colossus at some point. Without any other X-Men around, you've done a lot better than most people would have. So I can't fault you on that at all.
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@Kingfisher Sorry to see you go, King, but it was nice having you around whilst it lasted. I look forward to seeing you pick up where you left off if we're still here once your exams are done.
I've posted 4 times and gone through about 18 hours worth of in-universe time for Daredevil? Meanwhile Killer Moth has come and gone, Batman's through at least one 24 hours period nearly, Supes is through a fortnight and counting...
Shit's screwed up. But until we get character interaction, there's no reason these guys can't have their stories progressing at their own pace. God knows I can't keep up with you loonies.
Also, I realise this is a late reply to an old OOC post, but I think that kind of makes the whole discussion that little bit sweeter. It's like the opposite of irony.
I've always thought the comic book-y approach to the passage of time is the least worse of all the options.
Time-stamping is a headache and almost always falls apart within a week or two.
@Gowi We are. It's the old Wolverine rule: how did he manage to be on the New Avengers, X-Men, and X-Force all whilst having solo adventures on his own? "Don't ask."
@Lord Wraith A Batman post in the IC thread? I never thought I'd live to see the day!
Heh, keep up the good work. We still need to have Clark and Bruce meet at some point. Ignoring the fact that my Clark is about two weeks ahead of where you're at with Bruce because... comics.
Heh, keep up the good work. We still need to have Clark and Bruce meet at some point. Ignoring the fact that my Clark is about two weeks ahead of where you're at with Bruce because... comics.
"What's your name, kid?"
*Blurred Lines starts playing and Damian looks into the camera with a smirk*
"Robin."
*Blurred Lines starts playing and Damian looks into the camera with a smirk*
"Robin."
The Daily Planet, Metropolis
Clark Kent smiled sheepishly at Perry White as the Daily Planet’s Editor-in-Chief eyed his face with suspicion. In White’s hands was a folder that his eyes scanned over for a few seconds, stopping every now and then to look at the bruised, blemished eye socket behind Kent’s glasses, before returning to the folder’s pages for a deeper look. There had been a time that being called into Perry White’s office struck fear into the hearts of even the most battle-hardened reporters but White seemed to have mellowed with age. The editor had once been renown in the newspaper industry for his temper but at the insistence of his doctors had calmed down some. Now White struck a more paternal figure and the atmosphere of the Planet’s newsroom was much improved for it. After a few more seconds scanning over the folder’s contents he looked up at Kent and gestured towards his eye. There seemed a genuine concern in the motion.
“What happened to your eye, Kent?”
Clark scratched the back of his neck and he searched for an explanation.
“I… uh… slipped getting out of the shower this morning.”
For a moment White responded with a disbelieving look but it passed and a knowing smile appeared on his face. Clark’s reputation for clumsiness preceded him. On his first day at the Planet he had spilled two cups of coffee on White and ruined the editor’s favourite tie. In moments like these, Clark was thankful for his clumsiness. It made his excuses all the more believable.
“You know, sometimes I worry about you. It’s dangerous for a man your size to be so goddamned uncoordinated. You’re like one of those dancing bears the Russians used to have. Except if they forced them to drink a forty-ounce before they went on stage. You’re lucky you have Lane around to look out for you."
Clark’s cheeks turned rosy red with embarrassment. He opened his mouth to rebut the accusation but White waved a dismissive hand in his direction.
“Don’t bother denying it, Kent. I might be old but I’m not stupid. I noticed the two of you sneaking around months ago. You really think anything goes on out in that newsroom that I don’t know about?”
A nervous titter left the Man of Steel’s lips as he shook his head.
“We were going to tell you. It’s just… with everything that’s been going on around here, we thought maybe it was better that we kept things a little quiet for a while so as not to ruffle any feathers.”
“Consider my feathers well and truly unruffled. I couldn’t care less who you’re shacked up with so long as your work is up to scratch, kid. Just don’t go breaking the poor girl’s heart or I’ll have you writing obits until you’re older and balder than I am. You hear me?”
Clark nodded in acceptance.
“I hear you, Chief.”
White reached for the mug of coffee on his desk, took a hearty mouthful of it, and let out a contented sigh. He set the mug back down and then smiled at Clark as if to reassure him that he wasn’t being reprimanded.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to give Lane the same lecture when she comes into my office next. This place needs you, Kent, it needs the both of you. You’re what keeps this place ticking over and I can’t afford to lose that because one of you got a wandering eye. Without the pair of you, there is no Daily Planet.”
The sincerity in the editor’s words hung in the air for a few moments and Clark smiled earnestly at the praise. White’s compliments came few and far between, especially compliments as gushing as that one had been, and Kent seemed to understand the importance of the moment. White’s quiet, steady guidance had been present throughout Clark’s professional career and he had come to see Perry White as a father figure of sorts. As peculiar as it might have sounded, White’s influence dwarfed even that of Kent’s biological father – but for Jonathan Kent, White was the nearest thing Clark had to a role model.
“Well, I… I don’t know what to say, Chief, I’m touched that you think that.”
In a heartbeat White’s paternal glow disappeared and the tough, taskmaster of an Editor-in-Chief reappeared again. There was a self-aware smile on White’s face.
“You ever repeat that and you’ll have two black eyes, Kent.”
Clark nodded appreciatively and White reached for the folder on his desk and flicked through it again.
“Now that we’re done gossiping I have a lead on a piece that has your name written all over it. You interested?”
Clark smiled.
“When am I not?”
White tossed the folder towards Clark. Kent attempted to catch it, fumbled it, and blushed in embarrassment as it tumbled to the ground. White let out a tut as Clark reached down to reassemble the folder and its contents.
“Luthor’s working on something in that building of his that’s going to change the world and it seems he’s ready to tell the world about it. His publicist got in contact this morning and asked for a sit-down interview with the Planet. I want you to take Olsen with you and find out what the hell our billionaire playboy is working on.”
A wince left Clark’s lips as he recalled the conversation Jimmy and he had conducted on the way to lunch the day Avalanche had attacked. Other than Superman, there was no more vocal a critic of Lex Luthor than Jimmy Olsen. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge but Clark wondered whether Jimmy would be able to bite his tongue in the man’s presence. It took everything Clark had to hold his own.
“Are you sure taking Jimmy with me is a good idea, Chief? He’s not exactly Luthor’s biggest fan.”
White shrugged.
“Then I’m relying on you to keep him in line, Kent. This is a big opportunity for you. Don’t screw it up, kid.”
Clark stood up, Perry’s folder in hand, and smiled reassuringly in his editor’s direction. Clark and Lex’s paths had crossed before, though Clark had been in uniform at the time, and America was no stranger to the fact that Superman was no friend to the billionaire. Lex’s support for the Mutant Registration Act and his fawning appreciation of Clark’s powers turned to spite after Clark had turned down membership of his Justice League were the tip of the iceberg. There was more to Lex than met the eye. Barney Barton’s murder, the arms dealing with the Latverians, and God knows what else. Despite it all, Superman had been completely incapable of landing a glove on Lex.
Perhaps Clark Kent would be more successful.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Lex and I will get on famously.”
What's not to love about Dick? He refuses to let his parents murder define him, grows in front of our eyes from a child into a man, from Robin into Nightwing, and manages to maintain his devil-may-care attitude throughout. Dick is allowed that rarity in comic books: the opportunity to actually grow as a person. The boy adventurer turns into one of the greatest leaders in the DC universe and manages to do it all with a smile on his face. He's Batman at his purest, a Batman not embittered by his parents murder, partly by Bruce's design and partly through his own desire to strike out and prove himself able to stand on his own two feet.
Plus he has the glutes of a Greek god.
I have a Superman post all written up and ready to go. Just waiting to hear back from @Vandy to see whether I can go ahead with what I have planned.
I'm hoping you motherfuckers haven't been subsumed in a never-ending Daredevil pit and/or been distracted by shiny, new games. Because I need my post fix.
I'm hoping you motherfuckers haven't been subsumed in a never-ending Daredevil pit and/or been distracted by shiny, new games. Because I need my post fix.
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