sneezes

[commemeorate]

Winter Wonderland Meme



❄ it's quiet
and the snow's beautiful tonight → a winter open meme

‧ post with whatever character you want
‧ responders roll for weather + scenario and get to threading
‧ ???
‧ profit


snowfall;
stage i; none, streets are already blanketed in white.
stage ii; very light and intermittent.
stage iii; light - moderate. lasts longer periods.
stage iv; continuous, heavy snowfall.
stage v; the hardest of cores - blizzards, snowstorms, you name it.

scenarios;
① fuck the police, this is the best time for a walk. hope you've got a nice thick coat on.

② stranded in the buttcrack of nowheresville? weren't you watching the time? now you've gone and missed that last bus out of there. or maybe you're lost, somehow. what do?

③ literally chilling, in this weather, is quite easy to do. sitting around relaxing in it is a wee more difficult, but sometimes much more enjoyable, especially if shelter can be found. the snow is beautiful to watch, after all.

④ the weather's not going to stop you. your snow fort's packed full of ammo and ready to go. those aren't snow angels over there; they mark where the poor souls you've downed have fallen. be careful with that snowman's head!!

⑤ you're about fifty miles from civilization but there's a roof over your head, so never mind the chilly draught, right? right. you mightn't be the only one lucky enough to stumble upon this little shelter, though. remember to share the blanket.

⑥ everyone stuck outside should be jelly. you've got a fireplace and hot cocoa and damn if it isn't awesome. a heater's not quite so romantic, but it'd do. there'd better be a backup generator in case the power trips.

⑦ mix and match, or make up your own ‧:❉:‧

Comments

[eulogizer]

( it's perfect!! but same to you as well c: )

[ Bruce knows Clark's back before Clark even gets out of the ground. It sounds kind of ridiculous but secretly, privately, he installed censors near Clark's grave just to... to make sure. The idea of someone pulling his corpse out of the ground after Bruce fought so hard to keep Superman's body out of the government's hands, it made a cold knot of hate settle in his stomach and anger build at his fingertips. He couldn't allow the chance of someone else interfering with Clark's rest, not after... everything.

So, the fact that it's Clark himself who disturbs it has Bruce sitting in the chair of his batcomputer with his coffee mug halfway raised to his mouth and eyes fixed on the camera feed in front of him. This is -- it's Clark. Alive. Whole. Ridiculously dirty. God, maybe Bruce should've taken better care of his corpse or -- no. That's... weird.

A moment later, he calls for Alfred who only looks at the feed with a idle sense of surprise and then makes an quiet Here I thought it was supposed to be three days comment that has Bruce looking a little distressed in his direction.

Bruce isn't sure how to approach or if he should so, he doesn't. He stays in his cave, he debates telling Diana, he then tells Diana but then tells her how he knows which earns him a slightly incredulous reprimand. He isn't sure what to do beyond that, finds himself biting his nails of all things and stops himself before the habit can develop too badly. Then he... waits.

Eventually, Clark shows up at his house. Bruce knew he was here once he entered the Wayne property but it takes a bit of a walk to get off the main path to the manor towards the lakehouse instead. When Bruce hears the doorbell ring, he almost hesitates to answer before he moves through the house and opens the door, expression blank as he takes in Clark standing there, whole and alive and entirely different from when they were last together.

He supposes he is as well, soft sweater and jeans a stark difference from the batsuit. ]

... Clark. Welcome back.

[ He hopes this is a good enough greeting, considering how much he actually does feel. ]

[warmth]

[ Three months, three days. Time is relative, isn't it? Clark's biological parents sent him into space mere days before Krypton exploded ... and ten thousand years before Earth's modern era. The science behind that is more theoretical and speculative here, involving wormholes and other things that he only had a short time to grasp before the old ship was co-opted by private interests. Maybe one of these days he can poke around and see what shakes loose for that sale.

For now, though, he has more pressing concerns. Like waiting as seconds tick away, both gone in the blink of an eye and stretching out across countless centuries until the front door finally opens and--

Bruce answered his own door. Clark isn't sure how to respond to that, he planned to politely interrogate the man's butler first. His mouth opens, closes. Opens again: ]

Thanks. Thank you. Bruce.

[ For someone who wields words for a living, or who did, it's not exactly a wealth of riches. But maybe that's okay for now; he means every word. ]

Is ... May I come in?

[eulogizer]

[ Not much happens between the span of the door opening and Clark's greeting and Bruce almost feels like he overreacted for nothing. The world didn't end, Clark didn't immediately try to kill him, and he didn't die on the spot. No, Clark just gave a hesitant hello and now they're here, standing a little awkwardly across from each other before Bruce finally nods and takes a step back, letting Clark into the house.

When he comes in, Bruce'll give a tilt of his head to lead him deeper, moving into the lakehouse and hesitating a moment before heading to the kitchen. That seems like the right place to go. He can make... coffee? Tea? Something like that. It's when they're there that Bruce glances to Clark again, hands moving to hang loosely in his pockets. ]

Do you want something to eat? Or to just... talk?

[warmth]

[ It's incredibly awkward. There's a more benevolent feeling between them, Clark thinks, even standing on the guy's doorstep. At the very least, the animosity that flavored the majority of their initial and subsequent meetings is gone, replaced by a faint hope that he can somehow .. start fresh. Or if not fresh, at least move on to something more positive. More productive. ]

Thanks, [ Barely a breath and then he moves, stepping over the threshold and following Bruce's lead and shadowing his footsteps to the kitchen. As they walk, he tries not to breach the other man's privacy, refraining from scanning the interior. Admittedly, he's still a little wary, but contact with kryptonite is what got him into the mess.

That said, Clark figures he owes Bruce some measure of trust. ]

Well. I came to say thank you. For the funeral. [ He manuevers himself to a spot near the doorway and sets the bag at his feet. ] And to apologize for the way I acted ... earlier. I'm sorry.