trans_9 | Mild-Mannered Reporter... [Open]

There was probably one thing that Superman enjoyed about having a secret identity, especially on this ship - virtually no one knew about it. He was certain that the only ones who knew of it were those close to him, like Kon and Nightwing.

Thus, he opted to spend a few days as Clark Kent once more, wandering the City and getting a good idea of what was what. Besides, hiding his identity allowed him to get a small breather from the duties he had. A shame someone like Matt never had that. Would have come in handy.

Today, his wanderings lead him to find something from his world - the Daily Planet building. His workplace. He couldn't help but wandering the building, noting all the dust that had built up. Perhaps he could get some sort of newspaper running in here - or at the very least, an omnicomm version of it.

As he wandered, he came across a hallway sporting various headlines, mostly involving him - his first appearance, the Crisis, his death at the hands of Doomsday, the appearance of the four "Supermen", his transformation into the electric form and subsequent return, Luthor's election, Imperiex's invasion, Luthor's downfall, the second Crisis, and his own return following it.

"I never thought I'd see this and actually wonder what would be the next thing to put up..." Clark mused to himself.

(OoC: The only thing I ask of this post is that, unless your character has SOME sort of knowledge that Clark Kent = Superman or has someway to detect the two may be linked, do NOT automatically out him. PLEASE. Thank you!)

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Peter had entered, and like Clark, had eventually come across the hall of headlines.

"Well, I can say Superman definitely gets a hell of a lot better press than I ever did."

Clark looked over at Peter and nodded. "He was pretty much loved back home. Only other person to get as big of a headline was Lex Luthor, really."

It could be said that every big protector in their respective city had major headlines. Except for maybe Batman, but Bruce probably preferred it that way.

"I take it things were different where you were?"

Peter looked over at Clark shrugged. "For me? The general opinion of New York, subtracting villains and crooks, is maybe 70% in my favor. But the Gargoyles get treated like crap, and for some reason that's still beyond me the editor of the Daily Bugle absolutely despises me."

"I think a spider bit him when he was a kid," he cracked, before looking back the newspapers. There was something weird about that photo, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

Gargoyles, huh? That was certainly interesting. And the editor of a newspaper hating him? Could probably blow his mind easily.

At least you still have people who trust you, that's a plus." Clark said. "I'm pretty sure, barring a few mishaps here and there, you'd fit in well with Metropolis' group." Yeah, there was also the bit where certain metas protected a particular city and there were some where metas weren't allowed in without pissing a certain someone off. But, that wasn't here or there.

"It probably wouldn't bother me so much if he wasn't the only one who regularly buys the pictures I take of myself when I'm fighting, and if I didn't really need the income."

Clark can sympathize with that.

"I think I can understand what you mean by that..." he said, nodding. "Though, I take it no others would...?"

"Nah, they would, just, like I said, not anywhere nearly as regularly, and I needed to keep bringing in money since it was just me and my aunt. Admittedly, I picked a slightly dishonest way of doing so, but I never faked any shots."

Clark nodded at what Peter was saying and understood completely.

"Well, if we had something like this here, we wouldn't be able to get away with it. Not with everyone else here."

Peter noticed the use of the word we, instead of you. He glnaced back at Clark, and back to the photo of Superman, mentally superimposing glasses over it.

"...I really should've figured this out quicker." He said, facepalming.

Clark couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Please don't tell the others. I understand you didn't have the chance to escape it, but I prefer the privacy of being Clark. I've always considered Clark over Superman, but the ship's situation's made it hard to do so until recently."

Peter waved off any possible apprehension Clark might've had about the subject.

"Nah, I won't. It's not my place to tell.

"Thanks."

Clark went silent for a bit, thinking, before he spoke up once more. "You know, I've been thinking. A lot of things happen on this ship and a lot of us don't know about it. I couldn't figure out how to fix that, but now that I found this place? I have an idea..."

Peter, for all his inability to be perceptive in relation to romantic affairs, was actually pretty good at being so with things outside of that area of expertise.

"Need any photographers? I'm game, and I can go see if the older me is up for it too."

"It would help, that's for sure." Clark said, nodding.

"I'll need to see what the rest of the crew thinks, though I'm certain they'll warm up to the idea. Especially since a lot of things end up coming through word of mouth."

A brief thought ran through his mind.

"...I'm gonna need to grab another omnicomm. I think it might be time for Clark Kent to step forward into the spotlight."

Somewhere further down the hall there was a clattering noise that was stopped short. The kind of noise like someone had bumped something and then grabbed it trying to keep it from making noise.

In reality that some one was Sandy. She was lurking about the bull pen opening and closing drawers, looking for things that might be worth squirreling away to the room she shared with Hana.

But when she became aware of someone else in the building nearby she'd opted to hide. Being out of practice she'd bumped a desk and knocked over a pencil holder.

Face burning red she ducked for cover under a different desk. Guilty conscience one could say.

The one thing about Clark's hearing? It's pretty damn good. Hearing the clattering noise, he turned to try to find where the noise was and started moving in the direction of it. Walking past the desks, he decided to play it straight and not use his powers to find them.

He'd let them make that mistake that would out them easily.

She heard the person moving about nearby and silently cursed more then a few times before she ventured a careful peek around the desk to see who it was. No one she recognized. Whoever it was he looked like a tool.

Curling up into a tighter ball she'd wait till he passed before she opted to crawl out and try to stealth away. Maybe there was something worth stealing on one of the upper floors.

Clark purposely passed by the desk Sandy was hiding under, trying to at least lure her into a false sense of security. He didn't want to startle her much, but at the same time, this place had meaning - he already noticed a few things missing.

As he kept walking, he stopped, waiting for Sandy's next move.

He wasn't moving! Why wasn't he moving?

Had he heard her breathing?

Well, no matter now. Best try for plan B. She felt the heft of the cup that she'd knocked over in her hand. It was stainless steel, probably someone's spare coffee mug. Closing her eyes and hoping for the best she flung it around the side of the desk.

With luck, it would land a bit aways and draw his attention. The moment she heard it clatter to the ground behind some other desk she tried to slip out from behind the desk and make a run for it.

WHAM!

Right into Clark's back. Smooth.

Mild-Mannered Reporter... [Open]

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