31/Proof

Proof
Date of Scene:	19 February 2020
Location:	Rooftop, Marigold's Cannery, NYC
Synopsis:	Clark provides proof that Superman is alive.
Cast of Characters:	Clark Kent, Steve Rogers

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Clark Kent has posed:
Clark was set to meet Steve Rogers at Steve's designated private location. The anticipation is probably high: if Clark can prove Superman is alive, that has big implications on a lot of things. Is Superman injured? A zombie? Was he held hostage? Who brought him back, and for what reasons or nefarious designs?! There aren't answers yet.

The text comes through first, about twenty minutes before the designated meet-up:

"Business has come up, I need about 45 minutes. Is that all right with you?"

No doubt some item for the reporter needed his attention; some vital story or interview ran long....

Steve Rogers has posed:
In a tone few can hear save for those of exceptional sensory power, Steve's phone goes off. The man wearing a cream-colored beanie down over his blond hair and a thickly-lined leather jacket pulls his phone from his pocket even as he mounts yet another landing in the abandoned cannery building. Brooklyn's New Lots isn't perfect and history remains standing even with busted windows and the soft coos of pigeons in the metal rafters. Everything echoes. The Captain has been surprisingly quiet.

Flicking the screen to life, he peers at the text and nods. Pausing, the reply comes back: "Take your time, nothing on the books today until the evening." Again, the hypersonic 'ping' of a sent message signals the text flying off into the ether. Away the phone goes and Steve continues up the rest of the cement-walled stairwell up to the rooftop.

It's chillier up here, admittedly, with how the wind can easily reach the open area, but the sun provides warmth if one stays tucked to the stairwell's wall that rises up beyond the gravel rooftop. Leaning his back against the sun-warmed surface, Steve looks out onto the rippling distant reflection of the river and the bridge beyond. He can be patient...and wonder all the while what kind of proof requires this amount of secrecy?

Clark Kent has posed:
If this proof is difficult to carry, Clark doesn't show physical signs of lugging anything. At least, not from afar. He's holding up well under the weight responsibility, though signs of wear are causing edges to fray.

Clark took an uber; it's visible from the roof view if somebody's watching for it. Clark is friendly to the driver, there's a brief series of polite thank-yous before Clark surveys the cannery from the street, and begins the trek towards the inside. He's dressed like he always is: business attire, tie a little loose from a long day, some bits of something that is probably dandruff on the shoulders of black suit coat.

Clark climbs the stairs, slowing towards the top. Whether it's a measure of being tired from /stairs/ or needing a moment before walking into this may be unclear at first. But he doesn't shy out of it, he crosses towards Steve, expression carrying a forced, tense little smile. "Sorry about the tardiness," Clark apologizes quickly.

Steve Rogers has posed:
By the time Clark arrives, his fellow conversationalist has seated himself on one of the long-silent fan exhaust ports rising from the rooftop. In his hands, a small spiraled notebook full of blank sketching paper instead of blue-lined pages. A ballpoint pen, something simple, has been at bringing a skyline view of the city tucked to the river and beyond to life on the paper. Deeply involved by all appearances, it's only when Clark speaks that Steve glances up from his work.

The reporter gets a polite smile in return. "Like I said, nothing on the books until the evening...unless something crops up, but the underground chatter's been quiet lately." Rising to his feet, he tucks away the spiraled notebook into a pocket of his coat as well as the pen. A handshake is offered. "Glad you could make it. Not gonna stand here and pretend 'm not intrigued. Appreciate you being open about the location. Couldn't think of many more places where we could talk without being overheard."

It's a good place, all in all: height above the ground, wind sound, abandonment of surrounding buildings, no security tech to trip -- it's like the Captain's had conversations like this before.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark had more than enough time to study the building and surroundings: he'd stopped by earlier to preview the site. So a second pass occurs briefly on his way up. There may have been some use of various senses to pick up on any listening devices or cameras, or anything else. Normally such searching would take a long while for most people: but in the cover of the stairs superspeed with senses made short work of that check. No need to feel paranoid about /that/ in addition to the content of what this meeting may well be going to.

Clark accepts the handshake, though it isn't a limp noodle this time. It's a few steps up from that, into a friendly lightweight zone: average and uninteresting. But notable in that it /isn't/ like trying to hold a dead fish.

"Well, I appreciate your willingness to my request for secrecy; I know it's probably made you even more concerned," Clark chuckles, still very apologetic, polite. After the handshake he draws his hand back, rubbing his cheek briefly, the stress of the situation leaking through, perhaps. There's the more usual cowardly quality to the lack of gaze-meeting, and hunch of shoulders for the mild reporter. The reporter is just lacking in confidence. But there's something else here too: a quality of judging. Clark is deciding about providing final proof to Steve, and Steve may well pick up on it.

"I've been in and over this a million times," Clark sighs. "After all, is the world better off if Superman is buried? Do fewer Doomsdays come here? Should this be left alone?" Massive questions for a little meek reporter. He plucks his glasses off with two fingers, just to rub his nose bridge with the edge of his thumb, features covered behind his wrist. There isn't anxiety in it, there's some other emotion there, something more like just being tired. And a notable lack of thinking about how Superman might feel about any of it, as if Clark were considering Superman more of a symbol, less of a person.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Equal parts more concerned and interested," Steve admits easily as to Clark's semi-apology, his own demeanor deliberately nonchalant as to not further alarm or dispirit the reporter standing across from him now. His hands are slung easily on his jean pockets now rather than coat, this a far more normal behaviorial trait in the Captain; one step more and he'd be framing up his belt buckle with shoulders back. He eyes Clark as the man fidgets and wonders at continued anonymity for the great leader of the Justice League long fallen apart in Superman's absence.

The mild-mannered reporter's sigh is echoed silently. Steve looks away and off towards the bridge and to the expanse of city beyond it again. "It's a good thing to think about... You sit there 'nd you figure, what's the off-chance that the world is safer when the ne'erdowells aren't attracted by the idea of a challenge -- by the idea that the world might better accept them because their powered state isn't so alien anymore -- since more of us came out of the woodwork." Steve includes himself in the 'us' as a metapowered human being. "Thing is...too late now. Anybody wanting to start a scuffle knows that we're here 'nd might be more tempted to take a shot at us again with one of the stronger defenders of Earth gone -- maybe gone," he amends with a hint of coyness that comes and goes, and a momentary squint at Clark. "Thought about it too overnight. I think...call me idealistic, but I think the world wouldn't mind if he came back if it meant they were safer in the long run."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark is quiet, listening to the thoughts from Steve. He looks out and away as Steve does, but his gaze comes back in sooner to appraise Steve quietly as he talks. "For me... at the very least, I've come to that it's most important that you know about this resource. Should a disaster come. Should he be /needed/," Clark explains. "That isn't the same as this broader question about the world." Clark gestures outwards with his glasses, to indicate all of the city out to the side from them, voice still conveying a thoughtful, meek worry.

He still looks crumpled, like a used napkin. "Instead of me hoarding this truth, that is," Clark sighs once more.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"...think I follow." Clark continues getting a patient look from one of the leaders of the Avengers. Nearby, a pigeon lands on one of the rooftop's defunct wiring panels and coos softly, eyeing the two men. Popcorn? No popcorn? Dratted humans.

"Figuring that if he's alive, he's looking to avoid drawing unnecessary attention unless required. Treat him like an ace up the sleeve 'nd not some brassy showing of strength." Steve tilts his head back and forth in a manner as if he were deciding on something. "Sure. Don't see why it has to be an affair with fireworks and cheer-girls if he ever comes back. Man deserves to decide how he returns if he does."

Clark Kent has posed:
"From what I know, he did die," Clark answers, a little bit matter-of-fact. Clark might not deal with death very well overall. "Lois's article wasn't incorrect," he says, though a softened smile comes in; bringing Lois to mind has helped him steady a little bit, to get him to think of something that makes him smile. Even if it comes with other types of anxiety. "Whether he's the same is another question. I know this answer, or proof, just brings out more and more questions," Clark observes. "Do you still want the proof?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
In a good-natured gesture, Steve brings both arms out wide from his body, as if he'd encompass the roof and the city beyond with it.

"Went out of my way to find the quietest spot in Brooklyn I know of 'nd cleared my calendar, Clark." Still, he glances around and eyes the pigeon momentarily. That must go to show how many times he's dealt with the meatphysical weirdness of shapeshifter. The bird just fluffs its throat and coos again. Popcorn? COME ON, HUMANS. "'m here to listen to the proof if you want to share it. Not about to go parading it around either. You've been leery enough as it stands. Promised I wouldn't break your trust in this." Palms momentarily uplift in his stance as if to say, 'dunno what else to tell you', before they return to hanging off his pants pockets.

Clark Kent has posed:
"All right. The proof," Clark agrees, with a solemn quality as if he were about to read a eulogy. He drops his eyes to his hands, having moved the glasses from right to left hand, and slowly, folds the earpieces in. It would match behavior for someone that expected to get into a fight and was removing his glasses before they get broken. But that's not where this is going.

Clark tucks the glasses away into his coat pocket, pulls his hand through his hair to entirely move the neat, flat little parted style over... and then breaks character.

There's a lot of elements that make Clark 'Clark'. Most of it has nothing to do with the glasses; it's an entire physical behavior and signal system of how he stands, avoids a gaze, curls inwards: avoidant and shy. It has to do with hesitations, the timid structure of both acting and speech.

'Clark' generally speaks from his mouth: barely into the throat, which gives a sort of worried inflection a lot of the time. The shift of speaking down out of the chest is one of the largest tells. Sure, he stands up straight and curves his shoulders back, opening out his stance and frame, but vocally, Superman can inspire the world. Or maybe just one person. And that could be enough. "I do trust you."

Steve Rogers has posed:
At first, Steve watches with a sense of suspicion. Small, the divot between his brows, but it grows as he watches the glasses go away...and then the mussing of the hair...and then the sudden shift of posture into something so oppositionally inclined to the mild-mannered reporter that it's almost a slap in the face.

His mouth drops open. Up go those malleable brows as if they might hide away into his beanie out of sheer shock. Unconsciously mirroring Clark in this hanging moment of crystalline surprise, Steve pulls the beanie off his head and runs his own hand through his blond hair, further mussing it up. His palm travels to the back of his neck as the jaw-dropped gape begins morphing into something like a crooked smile.

Then comes the long murmured string of Gaelic, not a single curse word to be found, but full of heartfelt emphasis -- it sounds a little like a litany of saints and maybe a mention of the holy family.

Finally, words and proper English: "Gotta say, you had me fooled well 'nd good there. It's *good* to see you," he says, a full breath of emphasis on that word. "You're alive."

Clark Kent has posed:
Superman stands there for a long moment, watching Steve deal with the new twist on reality that's now spread between them: as things abruptly change from nervous stalling into what the truth really is.

He's alive. "I am," agrees the formerly dead hero. He's aware Steve might just want to hear it from him directly. There's a depth to his voice, a measured way he answers and allows Steve to stare or take in the whole of the situation, and how it changes context on all of their previous conversations. Clark doesn't mind being examined: he shows acceptance and patience. He knows he just unloaded a big secret, of course. The commentary about fooling earns an apologetic smile, and a lift of one hand. There's only humility there, perhaps a sadness.

"I have some proof of that." Proof he's alive. Clark smiles then, a rueful smile, open and able to make fun of himself, even in this situation. He relaxes out of the 'superhero' pose he was doing, resting his hands loose at the sides of his belt. He doesn't resume any slump. There's pieces of both people that Steve has met: the solid, dependable form of Superman, but there's also a polite empathy that was in evidence strongly with 'Clark'. There's no awkwardness here, but not complete confidence, either. There's something very human, instead, as he gives Steve time to sort out his thoughts without pushing in any direction.

Finally, then, Clark says, "You protected our home while I couldn't. Thank you for that." It's from the heart, from the man who held responsibility of the world's survival, to his own death.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Just a little proof." Allowing himself a full grin that shines of relief and delight in finding that this 'proof' panned out more in the realms of his wildest dreams, the Captain brings his hand around from the back of his neck to wipe down his mouth. He huffs a laugh and looks off to one side, squinting before looking back at Clark as if he still can't fully believe it. His own hands end up rested at his hips, angling elbows out, his beanie pinched between fingers to hang alongside his thigh.

The gratitude from the superhuman in his oversized clothing has Steve merely lifting his chin; his smile shrinks down to something no less ultimately glad in the end -- more like it gleams all the more under pressure. "Know you would've done the same for me if I'd been in your shoes," replies the super-soldier in a tone of solemn appreciation. "Not gonna go digging as to why you took some time because it's not my business -- also not gonna go telling anybody, I promised." He doesn't criss-cross his heart or anything like that, but the curt nod of Steve's chin along with a steely glint in his eye means that even torture might not get this newfound knowledge from behind his teeth.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I'm not different, but I'm also not the same," Clark answers cryptically, but there isn't any enjoyment or play out of putting it that way. It's more that he doesn't know how else to express the feeling of being torn. He is the same, but it also isn't entirely the same for him, there's different feelings that have been born out of the experience.

"It's fair to want to know, to ask me that," Clark assures Steve instead. "I needed to recover. That's the simplest way to say it, right now." There isn't a line in the sand drawn, there isn't any harshness that's forcing the topic away: Clark has a relaxed, genuine manner, that seeks for others to relax too. To be comfortable. No reason to be tense, it assures. It's safe.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"No judgment there. It's not fully sensical to compare it to what I went through, but if there's disorientation 'nd other things like memory gaps, I can say that I truly empathize," the Captain shares with his comrade. "Still, no need to rush recovery. I don't intend to contact you for any incident unless it requires your assistance. Don't mean that as an insult, just following the golden rule here -- ace up the sleeve. You take the time you need."

Another sigh is blown and now Steve shakes his head the slightest as he looks Clark over from head to toes and back. "'m gonna have to brush up on my spycraft, can't believe you pulled that one over me." His laugh, while quiet, is good-natured.

Clark Kent has posed:
A softened smile responds to Steve's comments about memory gaps. That's probably a big yes. "It wasn't something I'd like to do again soon. I intend to live a lot longer, this time," Clark replies, elusive, but only to protect Steve from potentially having to deal with the concept of Superman having trouble. The front of being reliable is just automatic for Clark.

"The inner circle of the Justice League is also aware, and has given me time," Clark continues. "Though I suspect a few would like it if I hurried up about it. There is no 'easing' back into it, not really, I fear." There's a chuckle and gentle smile. "As for your spycraft... you're not the first, if that helps. I don't like it, but it's necessary, to protect others. Were I could be myself more often...? Well."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I understand 'nd agree: it's necessary. Don't let anyone convince you into dyeing your hair. Once saw one of the SHIELD agents do it. His hair kept an off-orange tinge that was better suited for abandoned shag rugs for months," Steve shares with an undercurrent of pity. "Glad to hear the inner circle is in the know. Wasn't sure if I'd have to test my own promise over them."

The pigeon takes off, having come to the conclusion that these humans aren't going to feed it any popcorn. DAMNIT HUMANS. A fluffy feather from its breast catches in the wind and flits between the two men. Steve follows it with his eyes until it disappears into the distance of the cityspace.

"But nobody's stopping you from being yourself. Least, wouldn't bother me. I live in a mansion with a whole group of folks who do things that boggle the average mind every day. In fact..." He pulls out his phone and squints at it. "Ah, Thor stopped in. He's staying the night, at least...'nd he wrecked the back lawn again with the Bifrost. Hmm. William's not going to like that one. Our gardener," Steve elucidates with a glance to Clark as he puts the phone away. "Normal business."

Clark Kent has posed:
"If you find a substance that /can/ dye my hair, probably don't touch it," Clark replies, his smile real, comfortable. There's no awkward dodge of gaze or the stumbles in his phrasing, but there's absolutely the same person there. Just a version of it that isn't entirely shackled by social awkwardness. Not at all, in fact: Clark is sociable and really likes people.

There was also some tension, some polite sternness that relaxes a few degrees when Steve seems to have taken the revalation now in reasonable stride, enough to have pulled out his phone to look at it and chat. "I did not mean boggling anyone's mind, by that. I prefer, just...." Clark shrugs his shoulders. Looking out at the city. "Fitting in."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Following Clark's shift in attention out towards the buildings beyond the abandoned cannery, Steve takes a moment to then pull the beanie back over his blond hair. Now it hides away, the crow's nest in gold still mussed from when his fingers ran through it earlier in plain shock.

"I still wear a baseball cap around the city when I don't feel like dealing with anybody asking after autographs or my private life. Keep being what you were before if you want. 'm not judging. Doesn't matter if you were born a few blocks down 'nd end up being an accountant or the best of you came from some...incident like a serum or radioactive spider. Keep your privacy."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark returns his eyes to Steve, with a brief nod, and a little bit of a tilt of head as if considering what Steve suggested. To be whatever is comfortable. From Clark's expression he's at least taking it in, though how much he'd be influenced may be harder to decipher. He's not actually a wet noodle, as it turns out. Clark pats down his pockets, just to check on his glasses and phone: a very human little movement, before he sets his thumbs back into his pants. There's a farmer boy's lean in that brief body language.

"I don't know if the world does need Superman again now," Clark answers, instead, about his privacy. Once again, looking outward, and not at what he himself wants. At first. He hears himself, and adjusts a little. "But doing nothing, or ignoring calls for help, when I can do something.... no." The current status can't continue either.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Wait on a necessary call 'nd then into the breach." Steve's suggestion comes with a shrug of his broad shoulders. His regard has returned to Clark again. "Pull it all like old stiches or a bandaid when the time comes. Granted, can't speak any experience in a slow introduction to the world. I fell asleep in the middle of a war 'nd woke up with Times Square full of neon lights 'nd sleeker cars than anything Howard Stark could've designed."

That's how Steve compartmentalizes it all, apparently: falling asleep.

"If you need a hand getting back into the swing of things, I don't mind offering one. Had to help an old friend get used to everything as it stands. Wouldn't be my first rodeo," the Captain lets on with a small, knowing smile.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark listens: there's a secure attention, an interest in the way that Clark listens to someone. There may be a very strong feeling of absolutely being /heard/. Clark doesn't just pretend to look at someone and wait for his chance to talk: he's really listening, with empathy and a thoughtful expression in his clear blue eyes, that often seem lighter due to his dark hair and black masculine brows. It's a distinctive Superman thing, as well, mixed with his jawline and nose. How his alter ego thing works must seem ridiculous now.

"I'll accept the hand," Clark says, evenly. There's no show of pride here: Clark finds strength in his ability to accept aid from friends. It doesn't diminish him at all. "I would like to assist your team if necessary, but I also do not want to distract them from business by showing up among them, either." And he could be very, very distracting.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve nods and agrees, "It'd take a balance point right now, 'nd that's after you decide to make a public appearance if at all." He fully accepts that Superman might be retired as a possibility. "Might want to start off staying in your reporter persona for now if you want to be present 'nd not make a stir. Any assisting you'd be doing as a reporter would be informational. Seem fair to you for now?"

He gives Clark another one of those enviously even looks and ignores the next chime from his phone. This is recognized -- it can wait.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark lifts a hand, palm towards Steve in a 'whoa whoa' motion, as if he were calming a stallion. "If necessary, as I said. If necessary, I will come to assist. Unconditionally," Clark says, with a secure promise in the words. If Superman is needed, Superman will come to turn the tide. His tone leaves no debate in there.

"I would prefer the situation as you described it, for now. I have stayed out of current 'business', and I have to catch up," Clark answers. "The articles on best restaurants in Metropolis may have to once again go to Claire the Intern." Clark orients a little, and something happens to his easygoing expression.

"I have a call as well. I.. think I'm going to respond," Clark determines. It is his cloaked way of saying someone is screaming for aid. He pauses, giving Steve a moment, though.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Not needing more than a moment for a quick few decisions behind his true-blues, Steve then gestures off his hip with a hand.

"Don't let me keep you. You've got my number if you need anything else in the meantime -- and, in the meantime, you have my unconditional promise that no one's going to be hearing about this from my mouth." A facet of the unyielding assurance heard in Clark's words echoes in Captain Rogers in return. "If there's ever a time when you change your mind, shoot me a text or give me a call or drop by the mansion's front door."

Clark Kent has posed:
"I will, Steve," Clark agrees. There's no smile in it, a seriousness there, as he accepts the offer clearly. There's a slight nod.

And then Clark is just /gone/, in a streak of extremely fast motion. There's a blur and a crack of sound, a streaked disturbance in the air across the buildings, and that's all.

If there was any question about Clark being Superman lingering, that is likely gone now, as gone as is the Man of Steel.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Blinking to himself at the sudden disappearance of the man, Captain Rogers continues standing there for a few seconds more. He eyes where he //thought// he saw the mild-mannered reporter -- or rather, Superman -- vanish off to and then smirks to himself.

"Would've scared the hell out of that pigeon," he mutters to himself even as he turns to walk at a perfectly normal pace towards the stairwell's entrance. As he does so, he pulls out his phone.

"Alright, Fury, what do you want..."