( in the night ) ic inbox

[uplifters]

@ kent landmark, rm. 404 "Hi! This is Clark Kent. Unfortunately, I'm not here right now, so please leave a message at the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks for calling!" text | voice | action | etc.

Comments

@bruce

[pearlstrings]

Hello.

Where are you staying.

[uplifters]

[ Clark knows that name...!

And the distinct tone that comes with using a period instead of a question mark. Incredible. ]

Hi there, Bruce! Hope you've been okay. :-)

I've got a room at the Landmark Inn downtown. Haven't gotten to decorating yet, though. Heheh.

[pearlstrings]

[Shakes magic 8 ball will he ever not be like this? Signs point to no]

I've been fine, thank you.

What's your room number.

[uplifters]

That’d be 404!

Are you planning to visit?

[pearlstrings]

Yes. I'm already on my way.

I won't stay long.

[uplifters]

Oh, it's no trouble. I'll be here, anyway!

[pearlstrings]

[True to his word Bruce doesn't take long. He is rarely in a state of repose in the museum, with the exception of sleep he usually has his shoes on. His coat is near the door. The only detour he needs to make at all is for the small item that had prompted this whole venture to begin with- but now that he reaches for it, it becomes a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Bruce visibly pauses. Puts it down where it becomes an SD card again. Picks it up- where it becomes a bouquet. His brows come together. This hasn't been the case the entire time he's had it thus far, so why-

Ah. His purchase at the night market.

His options are two-fold: to retract their meeting entirely, or to just push through. And this is the reason that when Bruce appears outside of room 404 of the Landmark, he looks like he's here to pick up a first date.]

REACTION. / A SHYNESS.

[sunborne]

[ whenever clark is out and about and near the woods, he may notice something peculiar:

a spirit, more fluff than spirit, is peering at him through the bushes. when they see that he sees them, they'll become visibly startled and duck back into the bushes. a few seconds will pass before the spirit peers over the bush again. then they raise a hand up and wave hello.

should clark present himself as friendly - be it smiling at the spirit or waving hello or even nodding at them - the spirit's fluff will, ah, fluff up in joy before they make an excited chitter, duck into the bushes, and disappear from view. ]

[uplifters]

[ Clark does, in fact, notice this little spirit, in the middle of his attempting to chop wood for some bridge-building. It's while he's got the end of his t-shirt up to wipe his face and lifts his head up slightly that he catches them in the bushes... and, smile breaking his face when they wave at him, he makes sure to do the same.

It's not a smooth wave, or anything. Clark kind of wiggles his hand in the air like a dork.

But the spirit disappears before he can ask if they needed anything. And, though he takes a moment to head to the bush and observe where the spirit once was, the memory of the last time he'd tried to approach a spirit with friendly intentions comes to mind.

He won't forget being wounded, that's for sure.

This one had seemed nice, though. For that reason, Clark does his best to commit their appearance to memory, even as he goes back to working on his wood. ]

in person

[lunchbreaks]

--Ah hello! You must be Clark.

[ There is a man in a Victorian overcoat with a bow-tie looking extremely winded coming at you, Clark. ]

Pleasure to meet you. You were very correct, the cheeseburger is so easy to spot! Perhaps I should get one of those tee-shirts.

suffers gently at how cute,

[uplifters]

[ Clark jumps a bit when he's approached, but only because surprises don't stick very well. The smile, however, comes naturally after, and he beams and gives a polite bow of his head. ] Oh! Hi. It's nice to meet you. [ His hand's stuck out for a little shake. ] You must be Aziraphale. [ Did he pronounce that right? Maybe not. ]

You can get a bunch of th-these shirts at the general store. [ He smiles sheepishly. ] Are you, um, okay though? D'you need to catch your breath?

clark pls take care of this soft boy

[lunchbreaks]

[ He does pause to catch his breath. ]

Oh, thank you. Really, goodness, I should run more.

[ Because he feels winded. ]

Have you taken the tour, yet? It's not a large central area, not a terrible walk.

he'll try ;_;

[uplifters]

I didn't know there was a tour. [ Clark's brows furrow slightly at that. ] No, I've been... I figured the tablet out, [ he says this like that's an impressive feat ] so I've kind of just been, um, following the map, really.

I live Downtown, so it's... [ He nods. ] It's been an adventure, going alone in the d-dark.

[ A scary adventure, but he doesn't admit this out loud. ]

[lunchbreaks]

Oh.

[ He hadn't anticipated that Mr. Kent would be afraid of the dark, but he's not judging. ]

I am cleaning out the attic at our house. It's not much, and certainly won't be enough for you to stand up in, more of a loft space really. But it's in the village, much closer, and you're welcome to stay in it once we fix it up. If you'd like.

You would definitely have company.

[uplifters]

Ah-- n-no, that's okay! [ Laughing a bit, Clark waves a hand. ] I've found a place to stay over at the Landmark Inn. I live with two other people. [ Granted, one of them seems to never be home, but it's the sentiment that counts, anyway. ]

You've got a house, though? That's nice. [ And he says so wistfully. ] I'd love to visit, at least. Or to help with cleaning, if you'd like.

Since you're helping me find a piano.

[lunchbreaks]

Oh, I'd love to have more visitors, but-- one of my roommates, well, he's been sleeping for the last month or so.

[ Aziraphale is trying hard not to roll his eyes as he starts heading towards the rec center. ]

And I don't think he likes it when I don't ask before having people over.

That apparently happens here sometimes, just long periods of sleep. It's quite overwhelming at first, I know, but you'll get used to how things are soon enough, I imagine.

Will you tell me what your life used to be like?

a few days after v-day, snail mail

[lunchbreaks]

[ Tucked into Clark's mailbox is a letter that looks a lot like this but neater and not on graph paper. It reads:

Clark,
Thank you so much for the biscuits, they were indeed lovely and such a welcome surprise! I hope to be seeing you soon.
Your friend,
Aziraphale.

Included in a neat envelope tied up with string are packets of tea folded up in little origami pouches that look like penguins. ]

valentines (clark)

[punctually]

[ left on clark's pillow is a hand knitted blue scarf. it's two-toned, light blue and a darker navy, because there wasn't enough yarn of just one color, and it's supposed to bring out the blues in his eyes or something. it also may look a little uneven in some spots but there's a certain charm to that; it's been A Long Time since he last knitted anything for his sisters, he might be a bit out of practice.

anyway, there's a note:

Clark,

Thanks for the chocolates. Hope this'll keep you warm.

— Peter ]

valentines (kal)

[punctually]

[ is it inherently gay to give a mixtape...

because that's what peter leaves him: one of his cassette tapes and his walk man with greatest hits from the 80s like this, this, this, and this.

attached is a note:

Kal,

You're the inspiration.

— Peter ]

[uplifters]

[ Kal doesn't expect anything back, of course. He goes to do his rounds as always, listening to the forest spirits and where they most chitter, making sure that there's no-one in any immediate danger, and after a short conversation with Soldat (who's still scared of him, god forbid) about cupcakes, he thinks that's about all the action he'll get for the day.

Then he sees the tape, the Walkman, and the note.

By the time he gets to You're the Inspiration-- the very literal message Peter wrote with him-- he's laughing with a very pure, very real joy, sat at the table by the kitchen area with a fist to his mouth and the headset on his ears. ]

Oh, Peter... [ Guy's just full of surprises, isn't he? ]

[punctually]

[ it's like he'd been waiting for kal to say his name, which, he wasn't, but he's there all the same, a slight breeze heralding his arrival. he pulls his goggles up and once he notices kal at the table with his headphones on, there's a small part of him that almost wants to turn around and go back outside, like he stumbled on something private. and maybe he did, in a way — peter's not subtle and he knew what he was doing when he left that mixtape, he just covers it up with his tendency to never take things seriously. except he can't really use that anymore, can he? ]

That's usually what people say when they're judging my taste in music.

[uplifters]

On the contrary, [ Kal says this without removing the headphones, looking for all the world like he's still focused on the music save for the way his gaze flicks up to take Peter in instead ] I think your taste's real swell.

[ He grins, ducking his head back down as his thumb brushes over the player. ] I've never had someone make me one of these before.

[punctually]

That's a first. [ he almost ducks his head a little, because sometimes kal's honesty is just a bit too much. ] If I didn't know better, I'd say you're just being nice.

[ which, wouldn't be that far of a reach because it's kal. but it's also because it's kal that peter knows he's being honest. he doesn't need to have charles' ability to know that, at least. ]

I've never give anyone a mixtape before either, so... [ he laughs, something short and just shy of embarrassed. ] First times all around, I guess.

[uplifters]

Really? [ His thumb presses into the pause button, and Kal doesn't necessarily need to do it-- he can put the headphones down, music still playing, and hear it all in perfect detail-- but it isn't need that matters so much as it is sentiment.

And the one Peter is trying to convey makes him feel a kind of lightness he hasn't experienced in a long, long time. ]

Well, then. I'm honoured you chose me to give it to.

Which song's your favourite on this list?

CLARK FINDS AN OPAL

[inthenightmods]

When he comes across this one in particular, he'll be able to tell right away that there's something different about it. It seems older, forgotten, and clouded. Indeed, even as he's thrust into the memory, it feels faded about the edges, like an old film reel that's been pulled out of storage. There's a grainy quality to the sound around him, as well, but everything is clear enough to understand.

He's sitting in an office; the place is decked out to the nines in expensive furniture and decorations. He's a visitor here, waiting with a stiff, serious countenance as the individual on the other side of the desk pulls a heavy file out from a locked drawer. The gentleman staring him down appears to be a species that wouldn't be found on Earth; his features are insectoid, and his torso is lined with many arms that fold primly over the specially-tailored suit he wears to accommodate him.

"This is a big day for you, Mr. Zipsell," he says. "I've been talking with the rest of the board, and with your father, especially, and we all agree that you've proven you're ready for what I'm about to show you."

"Thank you, Mr. President," Clark says, his voice hazy. Although the words are easy enough to hear, the tone of voice seems lost and difficult to identify. "It's an honor. I always hoped that I'd be held in such an esteem by the board someday, but it's a happy surprise to find myself there so soon."

"A surprise to us all," the President agrees, nodding, his antennae twitching. As Clark watches, the file gets slid across the table. "I don't believe I have to impress upon you the confidentiality of what you're about to read."

He nods and opens the file. The contents are shocking, but he reads it all in silence. Detailed reports of political scandal, cover-ups, conspiracy. The truth of the nature of the world's government, its relationships with the planets scattered about the universe, things that make him sick to his stomach. Secrets that are corrupt and harmful, and keep the system controlled. Keep the rich living in luxury, and the less fortunate struggling.

"Well, Mr. Zipsell?"

Clark looks back up at the President. He looks more like a monster now than he ever did before. For a long moment, the two say nothing. The air in the room is tense.

"I understand that you may be a bit overwhelmed," the President says slowly, "but remember all the people who are counting on you. Remember that your family is counting on you to make the right choice as you move forward in your career from here on out. I'm sure you'll do the right thing."

The sickness in Clark's stomach boils into anger, disgust, and then hardens into resolve.

"Thank you, Mr. President. I will do the right thing."