nysalogs | January catch-all

Entry tags:

January catch-all

Who: Clark Kent (

apricitous) & you!
What: Catch-All and some concern about the state of things
When: January
Where: largely Wyver
Warning(s): none so far

[ scouting for reporters | wyver | open]
[ While Clark's put up his message, he's also putting up a few flyers around town with the same basic content; while his focus is the refugee population, just for ease of communication, he's not opposed should any locals show any interest in helping. He obviously can't offer any money since it's not a business as of yet per se or anything but... if you see him, feel free to ask about it. ]

[deserters | outside of the city | open ]
[ There are things Clark can't do, but there are also things he can do, things that he can't not do when it comes right down to it... and one of those things is look out for people. Especially people who are desperately trying to avoid a conflict.

Clark goes there first, asks what they need, and at first he uses some of the funds from his dragon bounty, what was still there. It's after Christmas, so it was a little more scant than he'd like, but he makes up for it by eating less, sitting in the sun more; he'll cook portions for Jessica the same as usual but he can make do himself. Eventually, he does have to ask for money, but he'll run into the city and bring back just about anything. He's also taken to spending the occasional afternoon out there, though, patrolling from the sky or ground to take care of any natural threats that might be stalking the smaller settlements just in case... ]

[ home | wyver | open ]
[ If you happen to come by their house, you'll find Clark at one of three activities: attempting to write something on the current Wyver-Olympia conflict, trying to figure out how he can better siphon some of his paycheck into supplies, cooking the occasional bit of food, and working from a particular book given to him for Christmas as a present, muttering to himself in a strange language that your character almost certainly isn't familiar with. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I can actually do pretty well on just sunlight.

[ Which is true, for a given value of 'pretty well'. He's always a little hungry that way, and he's not sure whether the sunlight here works the same given the Natha's meddling versus the fact that it's not yellow sunlight is affecting things, but- ]

And maybe just a taste. Curiousity.

[She stopped pouring, turning to look at him over her shoulder with a little brow raise of incredulity.]

You're kidding me, right? You're an alien flower-boy? Oh, wow. You just keep coming up with new surprises. You don't lay eggs or anything, do you? I'm not going to start sprouting leaves or petals in uncomfortable places with your 'seed' in me, am I?

[Teasing, mostly, but she hadn't really given any thought to the fact that he wasn't actually human and they'd been doing a lot of... things.

Bringing the glasses over, bottle tucked under her arm, she handed him one and went to sit in 'her' chair.]

So what's the book about? How to care for your Clark-garden?

I vaguely recall pointing out that my people produced without sex for roughly ten thousand years...

[ He closes the book and leans on his arms on the table, because what are table manners when you live with Jessica Jones? He's not eating anyway... ]

But no, I've never heard of eggs or petals.

[ He leans back to tap the book cover. ]

And the book is a language guide. For Kryptonian. It was one of my Christmas presents from Alan.

Which led me to believe your 'people' had sucked all the joy out of their lives and no longer had sex because it served no purpose. I'm infinitely glad you didn't follow that path. Sex away, Sunflower.

[Yep. That was a new nickname. Deal with it.]

How the hell does Alan have a book on a language of your people.

[Pause.]

Wait, is he... he's not like you too, is he? Though... he does seem to fit the sexless alien motif better than you.

[ ...is Clark blushing, just a little? Just a tiny bit? He's not, no, but he is sort of inclining his head like he is. ]

Alan's not like me, no. But he met someone who was, someone who's apparently in the tubes again. They were working on it before she went under.

[ Supposedly his cousin, but he hasn't really met her, just seen her. It led to longing, wanting to meet her, but he has enough wounds from missing people as it is. He won't add another one, so he tries not to focus on it. ]

And Alan is not... sexless. Trust me. He thought I'd want to learn it.

He was right.

You sure about that? I mean, about him not being sexless. I can't imagine him making an 'o' face. Or having sex that wasn't completely clinical. 'This goes there. Now you move. That's it. Okay. We're done.'

[She snorted a laugh to herself, sipping her drink. Razzing on Alan was just one of the fun parts of her day. Come on, Clark. The guy had it coming.

But the mention of his book had her craning her head to try to look at it.]

So what's it say? What's that? It looks like a... what, S? S L U... Slut? Are you reading Kryptonian porn?

I can't be sure, but it certainly isn't how he kisses.

[ Look, there'd been mistletoe. And then there... wasn't mistletoe, just Bruce, and he considers that almost as intoxicating. But he might be strangely biased. ]

And it's syltehn. It's the word for 'seaweed', which was apparently a pretty important part of a Kryptonian diet.

[Excuse the look, Clark. But then, she shrugs and goes back to trying to lean over onto the couch to read what he's reading.]

Guess that's why I think he's a prick.

So... your people were the equivalent of the Japanese enjoying some sushi. Got it. Which brings me back to my point of your diet needing to be seen to, Daisy. You need to eat. You can either have whatever you left in the fridge for me, you can run the risk of my attempting to cook and seeing if you can survive it, or I can get some takeout. But you're eating. Don't make me be the responsible one, Clark. I'm shit at it.

[ She's getting a look right back. A skeptical look. Why is that why she thinks he's a prick? Because he kissed Clark? What?

Deep breath. ]

I spent my paycheck already. Like I said, I'll be fine.

[Gay men don't like bitches unless they're their bitches -- or that's what Jessica had learned in her brief stint with hanging around one of Trish's ex assistants. And she would now assume that Alan was gay.

She went to say something, then started to slip off the chair, catching herself with that growingly convenient floating of hers. Setting herself right, she took a larger sip, then set her glass on the table.]

Were you that engrossed in your seaweed? I put money in the jar, Daisy dukes. That's the whole share and share alike funds, right? So there's money for food. And I didn't exactly spend all of it on alcohol this time, so...

[So shut up, Clark.]

I'm calling for takeout. What do you want? That roasted meat place? Or that weird one with the smoking sauce?

I know, and I've been careful not to take from the house fund for that. It's my personal money I've been spending.

[ He breathes in, breathes out, and rubs at his eyes. Well, if she's ordering- ]

Whatever you like, Jess. I'm really not picky.

Be picky. I could spend the night getting all my vitamins from this bottle and your--

[She bit her lip, clearing her throat and looking back down at her phone.]

This is for you, Clark. Take five minutes to think about it, let me order, and let me pay. If that's the least I can do around here when you practically babysit me, the shut up and let me do it.

Asshole.

[ He'd been scrubbing his face, but he'll look up at her as she starts in on her little quip. ]

So I'm not supposed to be concerned when you subsist on coffee, booze, and- [ thaaat's a tight sort of smile, he'll hold back too ] but I'm an asshole now?

[ He doesn't even sound angry. He's just pointing out the hypocrisy here, Miss Jones. ]

The meat place. And thank you for treating.

Exactly. I'm used to existing on fumes. I've gone a life time of not taking care of myself. You, on the other hand, are a poster boy for 'milk does a body good'.

[She finished her drink as she jotted in the number, eyeing the bottle and wishing she had more hands.]

Are you actually hungry, or are you just going to be a dick and pick at it to get me to shut up?

[She insulted out of love, Clark.]

I've done this before, you know.

[ He's gone without, both at home and while he was traveling abroad. Not so much in the last few years, he's learned a little better which jobs are a good idea and which ones aren't worth the time and effort and won't pay for his usually-crappy accommodations, but he's done it. ]

But yes, I'm... I miss food. I'll eat it. I wouldn't ask you to spend money on something I'd pick at.

Uh huh. Yeah, well, if you're going to come hunt me down when I'm self destructing and baby me back to not being all bloody, expect me to pull my head out of my ass enough to give a shit that you're not eating and you're wrapped up in stuff. Deal with it, Clark.

[Translation: I kind of love you, shut the fuck up and let me.

She stopped talking to him, talking into the phone instead and ordering a rather large batch of food, doubles of things she remembered seeing him seem to enjoy, then hanging up and pouring herself another drink, watching him over the rim and daring him to say something.]

[ He won't. He'll make his case, point out things, but he won't actually turn down love, won't stop. Instead, he pushes up from the table, walks over, and very gently puts his hands on her shoulders before leaning down to kiss the top of her head. ]

Thank you, Jess. It sounds delicious.

[She slouched down a little, sipping more from her cup and hiding the smile.]

Don't get sappy. I don't want Alan giving me shit if you get the sniffles or wind up sick because you're not taking care of yourself.

[ He'll just give those shoulders a light rub, a little more soothing than a squeeze. ]

That would be a little more believable if I thought you gave half a fig about what Alan thought.

[A soft hum, because she always liked his hands on her, then she tipped her head up to look at him upside down.]

That reminds me, I got some oil from a job earlier. They said it's good for massages. You up to being my guinea pig later? Food, relaxation, and maybe a nap so I can feel less like a heel about not being here lately?

[ His tongue slips out, wets his lips thoughtfully, before he presses his teeth down on the lower one in clear consideration. It turns into a smile a moment later. ]

I'm assuming, if we're being properly scientific, we'll have to test this on human and Kryptonian skin, right?

[ Which is a 'yes'. ]

[She grins, a smile that takes up her whole face before she realizes she's being a sappy shit and curbs it. Another clearing of her throat, and she's sipping her drink again, distracted by him and his stupid mouth.]

Well, I mean... for science...

Definitely for science.

[ He's kissing her again. For science. Clearly. ]

My night is reserved for Jones, party of one.

[She felt a pang of guilt, eyes skipping over to the book he'd set aside.]

You don't have to, you know. I'm not some needy... whatever. If you'd rather just chow down and go back to your book, that's fine.

[And it would be. Just knowing she'd done something for him when he'd done so much for her in return would make her feel better. But she also wouldn't turn down a night in with Clark if he was actually up for it.]

[ He lets out a sigh at that, because- dammit, that hadn't been his intention at all. He realizes that he's been ignoring her as much as she seems to think she's been ignoring him and he walks around to kneel down beside her chair, reaching to put one of his hands over hers. ]

The book will be there tomorrow. It'll be there three weeks from now. There's no rush.

[ He looks up at her and he's always got his truth in his eyes; there's a reason he created a disguise that had him largely never having to answer a question, just the assumption that there was no connection between Clark Kent and Superman because how could there be. He's too earnest by half, after all. ]

Maybe I'm needy. Maybe... I've missed a little time with you as much as I've missed meat on a stick.

[ He tilts his head to give her a crooked smile. ]

Maybe even a little more than meat on a stick.

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