bakerstreet | rain, rain, go away

rain, rain, go away

the rain meme

Ah, rain—the precipitation that the whole world has a love/hate affair with. It waters the garden for free and ruins baseball games. It cools you off in the summer and it causes more ice and sleet to appear in the winter. Sometimes it is lovely and falls at a decent pace for a few hours, other times, it blasts the whole eastern seaboard away.

Poems and songs have been written about it, people have danced in it, others have cursed its entire existence, and still more refuse to go out and drive in it.

Now it’s time to roll some dice and see what the weather will have in store for you today.

directions

1. Comment with your character, series, preferences, etc in the subject.
2. Roll a number between 1-5 with the RGN for an intensity.
3. Roll 1-15 with the RGN for a situation.
4. Reply to other comments and play the scenario out!
5. Don’t catch a cold!

intensity

1. DRIZZLE ☂ It’s not too heavy or too light of a downpour, just enough to wash away stuff in the air, water the ground, and clean up the streets.

2. MONSOON ☂ It’s horrible and awful! Rain is coming down in buckets, no one can get anywhere, the wind is whipping everything about, and now the cable is out.

3. SHOWER ☂ Reminds you of early spring, doesn’t it? A nice shower to make everything all green and smell fresh again. Lovely.

4. FLOOD ☂ While rain is good, it can sometimes be bad. Grab a boat!

5. CATS & DOGS ☂ You’re lucky with this one. It’s not the worst storm in the world, but it’s still pretty heavy. Be careful when driving!

prompts

1. A DARK, STORMY NIGHT ☂ You know all those stories that start off with a stormy night before something goes wrong: a murder, an attack by ninjas, a crime. It is one of the best known clichés in the world, and you’re stuck in the middle of it.

2. HUMIDITY ☂ It’s that time of the year again when the humidity rises and the rain has two options: make it worse or make it go away. Good luck getting the latter.

3. GRAY RAIN OF DEPRESSION ☂ We all know this one. Stuck in the middle of no where, or right after an argument, or something that leads to angst, the rain decides to express someone’s feelings in a physical form, serious or over the top.

4. QUIET MORNING ☂ Nothing to do, nowhere to be… sometimes the rain is a welcomed addition to a quiet day. Gives you an excuse to stay in, curl up in a warm blanket and a book, maybe a loved one or a cup of hot chocolate. With sprinkles.

5. PUDDLES ☂ After it rains, what is the number one thing you have to do? Go put on some rubber boots and splash around of course!

6. SUDDEN STORM ☂ It might have been predicted, but sometimes storms just sweep in and do their thing with little to no warning. Hope you’re not outside.

7. THUNDER & LIGHTNING ☂ Loud, surprising, scary, ominous, comforting, fantastic to watch or listen to… some like thunder and lightning, others not so much. Of course, if this happens before a big confrontation, the universe is telling you something.

8. CAN’T GET WORSE ☂ You did not say that. You did not just say that. How many times does this need to be seen in movies and books before anyone learns?

9. STUCK ☂ No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening. What happened to the ten percent chance of rain? You forgot your umbrella and now you’re stuck in it!

10. RUINED PLANS ☂ You had all these wonderful plans to go outside, have some fun in the sunshine, do some errands, maybe a date… and the weather goes against them.

11. DANCING ☂ Sometimes rain is a cause for celebration, or you just feel like doing something spontaneous. Grab someone to join you and get wet!

12. RAIN BATTLE ☂ The most intense, important battles happen in the rain. Verbal spars, punching someone in the guts; it’s all dramatic and climatic. And no one slips.

13. DATE ☂ Aww, don’t let the weather ruin your date! It can be really romantic, being out in the rain, and it’s always fun to go with the flow.

14. A DAY INSIDE ☂ Sometimes, it’s just better to stay inside and enjoy something simple and easy like board games or catching up on TV shows, or maybe the bills.

15. WILD CARD ☂ Was there something I missed? Did you want to roll again or choose your own adventure? Go for it!

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"I can handle four floors." And he did, taking two steps at a time. He wasn't particularly long-legged, but he was fit. Four floors, to him, was nothing. Though after the fight, the run, the walk, and then the climbing, he was breathing just a little heavier than he had been before. It took a lot to get him that way. He'd had a lot to go through today.

Clark trotted up the stairs like he hadn't just run anywhere and makes his way down the hall to a ramshackle little apartment that's obviously seen better days. He pulls out his other key, unlocks it, and heads right in, leaving the door open again.

He's picked up that Jim isn't too fond of showing people his back.

The apartment's pretty spartan, and it's obvious he wasn't lying about having just arrived. Clark's been living out of a suitcase for the most part and it shows. But the place is clean, and it's been made up as well as it possibly can be, and it's obviously habit how he puts down the briefcase.

As he looked around, his mind catalogued entrances and exits. He could jump out the window, off the fire escape easily. Break down the door he'd just come through.

Why would he have to? He grit his teeth and made himself not think about those things as he pushed the door closed and followed that with pulling off his hat. He had definite hat hair, especially as long as it was, down to his collar. A cue for another intrusive thought: how could he have let his hair get this long? He had even shaved since--

Since leaving Steve.

But he hadn't thought to cut his hair. Should he? He was known to be long-haired. But he would look more like James Buchanan Barnes with shorter hair. Maybe the answer was to grow it even longer.

Another shake of his head and he turned to face Clark again. There were greater things at stake. "We're in private," he said. "Now you can explain."

Clark doesn't speak immediately. Instead, he pulls off his suit jacket, takes off his glasses, and straightens his hair. He stands up to his full height, swallows, and pulls aside the white dress shirt he'd been wearing.

And the pieces might start to come together if 'Jim's seen any of the news footage around the damage done to a good portion of the city.

"Like I said. It's a long story. And I'm guessing you've got one too."

He'd seen newspapers, TV shows -- enough to know that SHIELD wasn't the only hero business in town. The glasses removed, the costume. He should have seen it before, but he knew very well that people only saw what they were looking for. He had covered himself in expectations to make sure people only saw a wandering homeless man instead of Hydra's favourite asset. "You're right," he said quietly. "I do."

He didn't choose to reveal everything, though. All he did was pull the glove from his left hand, showing the shining metal that curved and jointed in a mockery of human anatomy.

Clark just nods, and buttons up his shirt.

"I could hear it," he admits.

"It's not... I wasn't trying to lure you into anything. I just figured it was an advanced prosthetic."

He looks at Jim for another minute before heading to his little kitchen and pulling out a beer. The top pops off easy enough before he holds it out for the other man.

"I've got non-alcoholic options as well if this is a problem."

He could hear it. Even with as careful and as quiet as he'd been, Clark could hear it. His eyes slightly narrowed as he thought about what he'd just heard, and the more he thought, the more sense it made. That was probably how he'd known about the people coming into the mission. And him wanting to be gone before the police got there - yes, it did make sense. "I don't know if it is or isn't," he said as he took the bottle, wrapping metallic fingers around the glass. "I haven't had a drink since--"

Since when? The forties, surely. He lifted the bottle, drank, and found the taste was familiar. Deja vu in alcoholic form. "Since a long time ago."

"I've got a couple more in the fridge," he admits as he pulls one out for himself, "but after that, we'll have to run by the shop down on the corner."

He heads for the couch and lets himself drop down onto it with a protesting squeal.

"I'm sorry about today. I'm still working out how this whole thing is going to go. I really was there trying to get a story done. But I guess I'm not--" he smiles at Jim a little "I'm not very good at staying out of it when things need doing."

"You remind me of Rogers." The last name he'd given - obviously a pseudonym, now. He didn't care. If anything, he figured Clark had already known the name he gave was fake. "He always--"

Always. Fights in... in alleyways...

"Always gets in trouble."

He takes a long pull from the beer bottle.

"That's funny, because I've spent my life staying out of trouble. This is kinda new for me."

He gives 'Jim' a crooked smile.

"And here I'd thought that was pretty obvious."

"You ran into a situation that could've gotten you killed." If he were a normal human, anyway. "People who stay out of trouble don't do that."

He took another swallow of the beer. It didn't seem to do anything to him so far, but he was only two drinks in.

"I spent most of my life doing just the opposite," he admits. He's not proud, because now he's pretty sure he's on the right path. But he's not exactly ashamed of it either.

"My dad thought... well, he thought that if people found out about me, that it'd change the world. Create all kinds of trouble."

He can't help looking out the window.

"He wasn't wrong."

"The world was already in trouble." That, he knew about. It was hard to miss. The invasion of New York, all the trouble in Gotham, the destruction of Harlem, the disappearance of Tony Stark, some sort of trouble in New Mexico - the world was perpetually in danger. That wasn't going to change just because of one man.

[man, when you pile the universes together, it gets HEAVY]

"I noticed."

His eyes are still peering out the window even as he sips on his beer.

"I meant what I said. I came to this city to try and help. It's just... a lot harder than I thought it would be to do it."

((And I'm kind of disregarding X-Men and Fantastic Four even though they're Marvel. There's only so much crap NYC can go through. ...And I even forgot Thor 2. Armageddon has started!))

"Just pick up what SHIELD's dropped," 'Jim' said quietly, seating himself at last. "They'll need somebody to do that."

"A lot of what SHIELD dropped is a little too--" he's quiet for a moment as he composes his thoughts.

"The thing is, I can't side with anyone. Not the US, not their allies, not their enemies. I wasn't kidding when I said I'd thought about this."

Another pull on the beer.

"It's gotta be about something bigger, or I'm just someone's bully boy, paid or not."

His expression was flat, tone almost empty as he said, "That's the point. SHIELD is gone. Their files are out there for everyone to find."

He should know. He'd found it. He'd read it. There was precious little in it about him, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. There had been more in the Smithsonian's shrine to Captain America than in SHIELD's files.

"Read some. Judge for yourself."

"I have been. It's things like that, well... I'm a reporter for a reason, and not just because I happen to think I'm decent at it."

He sits up a little.

"And just because SHIELD is gone doesn't mean that prejudices don't exist. From what I understand, they were dismantled, by Captain America himself no less, for a reason."

The answer to that is easy. He says it practically without thinking. "Hydra."

Hydra. Hail Hydra. Pain, metal, and cold. Accented voices talking around him on a table. Hail Hydra. "Cut off one head, two more grow back."

Clark looks distinctly irritated at the mention of the name. He'd done too much reading, seen too many pictures in the files he's looked through, not to have an unadulterated hatred for them and everything they stand for. If anything was counter to the world that Jor-El had hoped for, the world that he hoped to help create, it was HYDRA.

"Unless you burn them all."

"Get in touch with Captain America. He'll welcome your help."

The beer was doing nothing. He didn't even feel slightly swimmy-headed. Not even a touch warm, not flushed, no sensations that, somewhere in his mind, he associated with alcohol. He should have felt something, even if it was just a little more warm and relaxed. But he felt nothing.

He felt nothing. And like a bolt from the blue, he realised. That was the problem. Through so much, he felt nothing. He fought and felt nothing. He ran and felt nothing. Nothing but wary and angry and lost, and could those even be real feelings?

"His name is Steve Rogers. He's bad at hiding. You're a reporter, it shouldn't take much effort to find him," he said in that same hollow tone. "He's probably not that far behind me."

The beer in Clark's hand is put on the coffee table as he leans over and leans on his knees.

"Is there a reason Captain America's hunting you?"

Clark doesn't look like he's getting up to do anything about it, but he's definitely curious.

Another simple answer, and this one matter-of-fact. "I tried to kill him."

He didn't qualify it. There was no 'I was under orders.' He was. But he'd been singleminded. Even after the girder had been lifted off of him, he'd gone about trying to kill him. Shot him. Watched him fall. Drop his shield. Had hit him, pounded him, punched him until bone broke and skin split. And then he'd spoken those words. 'Til the end of the line. And he'd fell. Dropped into the river like a rag doll.

There had been no headlines about Captain America dying, and that was how he knew that, though he'd left him to live or die, he'd lived. With SHIELD out of the picture, it wouldn't have been swept under the rug. It would have been publicised, made headlines everywhere. But it hadn't.

Captain America, Steve Rogers, was alive. And the man was nothing if not determined and persistent. He'd be following him, no matter where he went.

"But you didn't," Clark says, quiet. He's not judging, oddly enough. He's been around 'Jim' long enough that he's got his own opinion on the man, and he's been in his own skin ever since he made the decision to kill General Zod.

He's in no place to throw stones. Especially when he doesn't know what might have happened between them.

"Any reason you're not heading back to join him?"

Now he had to make a choice between honesty or a lie. Both were valid possibilities. Clark didn't seem inclined to turn him in, and if he did, it wouldn't matter. He could disappear as easily as he showed up. He wouldn't be caught if he put his mind to it. So telling him the truth would probably not have much in the way of consequences.

Telling him a lie, though - he would have to think of a lie to tell. And what lie would cover this situation? Maybe it was mental exhaustion from all he'd tried to do today. He didn't usually talk to anyone. Especially not this much, and conversation took more effort than he remembered. He was still expecting the mouthpiece and straps and to be pushed back into the chair, have the halo fastened around his head, even though he knew it wasn't going to happen. But it fatigued him mentally, thinking so far outside of what had become usual.

The truth, he finally decided, mid-sip of beer, was easiest.

"Because I don't know who I am."

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