14366/Boy Meets Bird

Boy Meets Bird
Date of Scene:	10 March 2023
Location:	Main Room - Titan's Tower
Synopsis:	Jon returns to the Tower. Kian is there to greet him.
Cast of Characters:	Kian, Jon Kent

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Kian has posed:
    Kían is on the couch—no, literally, perched on the back of it with his wings hanging over, the way one should sit on a piece of furniture like this.  Okay, yes, most people sit on the flat cushiony part, but most people aren't winged.  Kían, being possessed of what he's sure are a fine pair of wings, therefore perches on the back of the couch as nature intended.
    On the end table to his side are a large translucent tumbler of something purple, and a bowl into which he periodically dips a spoon for a quick nibble.
    On the TV… hard to say.  He keeps flipping channels, looking for something that makes sense.
    Three years on this planet, and much of it still doesn't.

Jon Kent has posed:
    Drifting slowly and silently down the car-less elevator shaft comes a figure in majestic blue, red, and gold colors: Superboy.  There is a light, fluttering sound as his red cape spins and twists for a moment before draping itself limply in place.  His trademark, unassailable smile comes quickly to his face as he steps into the massive chamber.  "Kian!" he says, eyes glittering with life and energy.  The aura and wake he leaves as he moves athletically through the room are warm and dignified, almost courtly, really, in an understated way.  He is of the House of El, and his every motion and expression betrays that.
    "What're you watchin'?" he inquires as he stops near the couch where the winged Titan is perched.

Kian has posed:
    Kían looks up, jarred out of his reverie, and breaks into a smile.  "J— uh, Superboy!"  He knows the difference between costumed and uncostumed… but sometimes it takes a moment to remind himself.  "It has been a while!  How have been… and where?"
    He regards the remote, flicks to a starfield screensaver, and tosses it aside.  "I'm not really watching anything.  Or maybe I was trying to watch everything.  One makes as much sense as the other, to me anyway."
    He glances around.  "I'm not sure where everyone else is.  I would say it's a quiet night, but I won't because if I did it would stop being quiet."
    That's followed by a definite smirk.

Jon Kent has posed:
    Superboy's smile converts to a kind of half-smirk.  "I've been parked in front of books getting ready for finals."  Although Superboy simply isn't genetically equipped to sulk or speak negatively, one can tell that studying isn't at the top of his List of Favorite Things.  "I thought I'd patrol a bit to give myself a break, but the city is quiet tonight.  That's a good thing."
    Glancing around, Superboy says, "Hey, Ki, excuse me one moment, please."  Old world manners.  Not what one typically gets from an 18-year-old these days.  Then in a flash—and an accompanying whoosh of air—Superboy is gone, having streaked at high speed to a restroom, followed by a dazzling blur of blue, red, and gold.
    Fifteen or twenty seconds later, a different figure zips out of the restroom: Jon Kent in casual civilian clothes.  Where—where does he keep his clothes??
    With a deep, apologetic smile, Jon sits down on the sofa.  "I haven't worn the suit in a bit.  I forgot how much it rides up."

Kian has posed:
    "Another reason I don't have a uniform, no matter how hard Terry tries to convince me I should.  But then, he's changed his own so many times, I don't see the point of it, he might as well just wear what's comfortable."  Kían giggles, and shifts to a seated position on the back of the couch, sandaled feet on the cushions.  "I think he just wants to see what he can make me wear… so of course I stick to my world's clothing."
    Which is the aforementioned sandals, a kilt with a pouch on one side of his belt and a T-COM on the other, and a pendant.  Perfectly comfortable.
    "I have to admit, I still haven't gotten into the habit of regular patrols.  But then, if I see something happening while I'm just out flying, I'll get involved.  So I guess I do patrol in a sideways kind of way."  He chuckles dryly.  "Half the time when we go out to do something normal, something weird happens anyway."

Jon Kent has posed:
    Another practice of Jon's that belies his age is he gives his complete attention to someone when they are speaking to him. He watches and listens to Kian intently.  Some find it disconcerting.  Some find that it makes them feel like the most important person in the room.
    At the conclusion of the narrative, a broad smile erupts over Jon's features.  "Kian, you live in Titan Tower with, well, the Titans.  When was the last time you did something normal?"  Bright blue eyes glitter with humor.

Kian has posed:
    Kían's eyes mist with thought.  "I suppose it was playing qihár on my world when we visited last year," he answers, quite seriously.
    Rhetorical question?  What's that?
    And then he matches the smile with one of his own.  "But you're right, of course, it's never normal around here.  Or at least not-normal is our normal."

Jon Kent has posed:
    Jon tips his head a bit as he considers, which leads to a cavalcade of bangs to cascade over his eyes.  He absently bats them away.  "What is qihar, Ki?" he inquires.  "Is that like a game?  Or a musical instrument?"

Kian has posed:
    "Oh, you played once," Kían says brightly, "when my brother and sister were here a year ago.  Terry once called it 'bird quidditch' but I have no idea what that's supposed to mean.  But I think you had to leave early, so maybe you don't remember."
    Inconceivable, but it's not an Earth sport, so it's really not Jon's fault if he doesn't remember.  Kian might be just as blank had he ever been shown a Kryptonian sport.
    "So what brings you by?  Just need a change of pace and place?"

Jon Kent has posed:
    Poor Jon has been cooped up with books for so many days now that he can't be help completely responsible for a bout of absentmindedness.  He screws up his face in concentration for a moment before erupting into another Kent smile.  "Right!  Flying flag basketball!  I must have blocked it out because I was so bad at it."  Blue eyes glitter at the welcome distraction.
    "Hmmm, well I'm not really here for anything.  Like I said, I was out patrolling to take a break from studying but all is well in Metropolis.  For the moment."  A shrug.  "But the night is young.  Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of…."  Blink.  "Wait, that's someone else's catchphrase."

Kian has posed:
    "Gods, I know the need for a break from studies," Kían says with feeling.  "Although from what I gather, university on Earth is a little more intensive than university on my world.  And," he adds with a slightly rueful look, "it was going to the Imperial University on the homeworld that caused me to end up on Earth anyway."
    He glances in the general direction of the men's dorms on the next floor up.  "Although I don't think I mind that so much now."

Jon Kent has posed:
    Again that intense, absolute focus on Kian's words.  Finally he draws in a slow, long breath and exhales, sending his unrepentant bangs scurrying.  "You're loved here.  And you love.  But it's not home."  After a few small, silent moments of thought—a tiny conceit from an otherwise selfless young man—Jon looks up again at Kian.  "I know the feeling.  In my timeline, I won't even be born until next year.  But here I am, surrounded by echoes of people I know and love."
    After another lapse of silence, an honest, vivid smile effloresces over his feature, banishing the gloom.  "But I never would have met you guys, so it's all good."

Kian has posed:
    "True.  I wouldn't be here with Gar and Terry if there hadn't been a problem.  And my friends and family know I'm safe and well, which is at least as important," Kían muses.  "And," he adds, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I think I might actually like it better here.  When I'm here, my life is my own."

Jon Kent has posed:
    Fluidly, Jon rises to his feet with alarming alacrity.  He's half Kryptonian fused with human, his whole vibe and essence is potential energy—a coiled spring.  "That sounds like a story that I want to hear when we have more time.  But I better get home before mom starts worrying."  He cracks a grin and exhales sharply.  "Like she has to worry about me."
    Again, a sudden rush of energy and air as Jon vanishes into the bathroom at super speed.  He returns dressed in the signature suit of Superboy, the heir apparent of Earth's powerful Kryptonian defender.  His whole demeanor changes when he wears it.  With this suit on, Jon is Superboy.  He practically radiates it through his pores.
    In this suit, his voice deepens a bit, his posture straightens.  "Thank you for the talk, Ki.  If you're of a mind to tell it, I'd like to hear the rest of the story soon."

Kian has posed:
    "I'll be glad to.  You're a good listener, and maybe you can pick something out of it that I've never noticed."  Kian giggles.  "And isn't she not your mom until next year?"  He shrugs, and feathers rustle.  "Well, moms are moms, regardless of time and space.  I found that out when we returned to my world, and when my parents met Terry's.  Although Terry's mom is… special."
    That's probably the safest way to describe Agatha O'Neil.  Kian's parents still haven't told him about anything that might have happened last year, when they visited his homeworld and Terry's mom stayed with them.  And in the long run, Kian probably doesn't want to know.
    "And can I just add, while I don't really understand the need for a uniform, that looks good."

Jon Kent has posed:
    The compliment coaxes a smile from Superboy that, by gosh, might just be described as a little bit bashful.  He looks down at his suit with obvious pride.  His father wears a suit like this.  Millions and millions of people look up to Superman as a symbol of true decency and hope in the universe.  Can this young hero fill those giant shoes someday?  Time will tell.
    "Thanks, Ki.  Have a nice night."  Then, hovering up off the ground as though gravity itself holds no power over him, Superboy turns in mid-air and slowly swoops toward the car-less elevator shaft.  Out of courtesy, he moves slowly into it, but he's young yet and who doesn't like to go fast?  He rockets up the tube and out into the night air, giving the floor and walls of the room a slight shake as he does—a testament to the coiled Kryptonian power coursing through Superboy's form.