Hi Purple!
. It is officially done! My plan is to post a new chapter each day (as long as RL doesn’t interfere).
Yippie!
Now, for the obligatory question: you *are* going to submit it to the archive, too, aren’t you?
It was different from the high-stakes, fast-paced world of Metropolis, but here, he could still be a journalist, still tell stories that mattered.
This reminds me of the sitcom about a flyover state (Powerless) some years ago, with Alan Tudyk. Kallen could write about how it is to live in a city superheroes used to fly over instead of visit.
The unmistakable note of frustration in her voice when she finally left that hotel room, the door closing behind her like the final sentence of a conversation that neither of them had been ready to finish.
Unless you wrote another 30 parts about Kallen meeting and falling for an Okie, I’d say this ain’t the end of that conversation at all. /Puts some highly valuable kryptonite on the latter option/ What? I never said I don’t like torturing Clark
He was being inconsiderate to Lois.
The impact of seasonal flooding on small communities… He hesitated. Something felt off. He backspaced, tried again. Flood prevention has long been a challenge in—
How about: “no Superman makes flooding bad”?
Ellis.”
Kal lifted his head slightly, tilting it in the direction of the familiar voice. Mark Anderson, his editor.
Did his EiC receive a complaint from his metropolitan counterpart about a certain reporter behaving uncouthly with the Daily Planet’s favorite Star reporter? You know, the Daily Planet’s reporter tasked with reporting on all the stories the Met Star broke first.
PERRY: No, I’m not calling about Ralph. I’m calling about Lois sitting at her desk and moping when she’s not taking Jimmy’s head off for no reason. That’s *my* job.
“You got that flood piece ready for me?” Anderson asked.
Uuuuuummmm…
Kal tilted his head. “How does ‘I’m fine’ sound, exactly?”
Like a machine gun hooked up to a keyboard?
Anderson didn’t leave right away. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something else, press a little further.
No, his reporter does not have anything to report from that meeting he had with his female colleague in his room. Officially, they have been fully clothed the entire time.
Writing had always been second nature to him, something he could do swiftly and efficiently. But now—now he had to be precise, each sentence weighed carefully before committing it to the page. There was no rushing through it anymore, no relying on instinct alone. Every article mattered, not just for its content, but because it grounded him, gave him a purpose in this new life.
Poor guy, something that gave him joy is now his last remaining reason to exist and thus something to take seriously without considering the fun in it.
Could he find the things people wanted to keep hidden when they could hide them in plain sight and he wouldn’t know about it?
Good question. Maybe he could borrow a seeing eye reporter at the Metropolis bullpen? Maybe one already trained to work with him?
His home was arranged for functionality, everything placed with careful intention to accommodate his needs.
Let’s hope he doesn’t explain that to Lois before offering her his bedroom
A small clock ticked in the corner of the room, an old but familiar sound that had filled his apartment back in Metropolis.
Okay, will Lois recognize the clock? I don’t think we ever had that particular twist, Clark’s furniture in Superman’s apartment.
A Braille-marked copy of one of his Kerth-winning articles rested among his belongings, its presence both an achievement and a relic of another era.
Uuuu…Clark only won a single Kerth Award and then Superman just now. Unless you added a win from an article he wrote in season two but Clark disappeared before he could receive the award?
One of the awards not for investigative journalism since Lois took that one home next.
Late this evening, an explosion in downtown Metropolis has left multiple people injured, including Daily Planet journalist Lois Lane.
Oh dear. Intergang?
Kal didn’t realize he was gripping the phone so tightly until his knuckles ached.
being blind taught him self-control.
A year ago, the phone would have crumbled!
Lois was hurt.
And he wasn’t there.
/nods/
For a split second, he felt it all—the pressure shift that came just before takeoff, the wind curling around his frame, the impossible ache to rise.
But that part of him had been locked away.
He didn’t trust it. He didn’t trust himself.
Plus, he might take down an airliner if he isn’t careful.
I hope you enjoyed the latest segment. Please review!
/Points at above text/
Oh dear, you certainly added a powerful inciting incident. I never saw this one coming. Well done!
Michael
but they're worth it.
I like where this is going!