6/Introspection (And BEES)

Introspection (And BEES)
Date of Scene:	16 February 2020
Location:	Centennial Park - New Troy
Synopsis:	Clark Kent and Steve Rogers discuss Superman.
Cast of Characters:	Clark Kent, Steve Rogers

---

Clark Kent has posed:
After multiple days of rain, the change of weather in Metropolis is pleasant, though it is still cold. The wind is minimal, leaving the day pleasant. Centennial park is flooded with joggers and families. Nature trails and gardens alike have visitors of a variety of ages, and the sounds of filtered laughter from the nearby zoo from a school field trip carries on the air.

The area around the center bronze statue of Superman isn't robust with sound; it is always a meditative space for both the park and the city. The weight of the events of 2017 are still fresh enough for many, and the sacrifice required to save the city, and the world, that ultimately caused the death of the city's protector.

It reminds of more than just that sacrifice; it has a lot of other meanings, was well, particularly to the mild-mannered reporter, Clark Kent, that so often was involved with Superman stories. He stands near the statue, phone closed and slipped away into a pocket, his expression elusive and internalized. It is a place to think, this spot in the park: both about the past, and the future.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Anonymity must require a baseball cap. It appears to be the golden rule of not being caught up by a web of paparazzi or fans asking to sign the nearest surface. Steve, for once, is absolutely tired of it -- so tired of it, he's left New York City proper to come to Metropolis. The day's weather was mild enough to merit a ride over on his motorcycle and he's swapped his helmet for aforementioned Dodgers cap. With the helmet still tucked beneath an arm, he's made his way silently through the park and towards the statue, very intent on indulging in the solemn peace that lingers around it.

He appears over a low rise and, to Clark at least, is probably recognizable enough by the leather shearling-lined jacket and breadth of shoulders. Steve wore the same coat when he was interviewed those years back about the whole incident with averting Loki's intrusion into New York City. He doesn't notice the reporter, not at first, but it's not out of insult. Drawn into introspection, the Captain's steps slow until he finds his own spot on the grass outside of the paved plinth of the statue. His eyes rise and linger before he sighs. Then they fall near to his boots. His frown is deep.

A glance to one side and then another followed by the lift of his face signals recognition. His free hand lifts in a quiet greeting -- hey there.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark wasn't so lost in his own thoughts that he's unaware of the world around him. Hardly; the reporter is sharp-eyed and aware, even if his expression originally suggested he was on some other planet or plane of existence at first. He probably would not have approached Steve, except for that greeting: there was recognition on Clark's face, but nothing other than politeness.

Clark looks up at the statue for another long moment, as if deciding if he'll intrude on Steve (or perhaps needing the moment to find closure for his own thoughts), and closes the gap between them to draw near to the Captain.

Clark is dressed simply in business casual, his tie a little loose, his light blue shirt under the thick jacket a bit rumpled. His posture is that of someone that's uncertain, and it makes him seem shorter than he actually is, and implies his bulk is something other than muscle. Basically, none of his clothes are flattering.

"If you... don't mind if I ask....?" Clark trails off, and lifts a hand to push his glasses up his nose, and flutters two fingers towards Steve's hat jammed down over his hair, "Does the hat work?" he asks, with a softened, quiet smile. The mood of the area kept the question to a muted level, a little awkward, maybe.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Clark gets a frown at first. Does what work? Steve realizes that the reporter gestured at the baseball cap a second later and he breaks into a mild grin, just enough to showcase dimples before his expression melts into something more sober.

"Just enough. You'd be surprised how many times I've stood on the subway 'nd nobody's sussed me out because of it. That, 'nd a bit of a slouch works wonders," he reveals with a shift in his weight. The Captain doesn't evince any of his patriotic counter-self in how he stands currently, with thumb slung lazily on the bottom of his coat-pocket. His attention shifts off Clark and to the statue briefly. "Meeting someone here for an interview then or...?"

Clark Kent has posed:
"People see what they expect, maybe," Clark suggests, as if he were thinking over it as Steve presents the comment about being 'sussed', observing Steve's slouching posture since Steve brought Clark's attention to it. "I think many people are focused on habit. The same route. Day to day autopilot. Forgetting to look up at the blue sky." Clark gives a brief, unsure little smile, and turns his attention to the statue as well. There's some breeze, but it doesn't really affect the reporter's black hair.

"Interview? No, not this morning." He looks at the statue, and asks, "Did you ever meet him?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve follows the reporter's gaze up to the statue again. He takes it in with the eye of an artist, noting its lines and especially the addition of the eagle upon the statue's wrist.

A sigh. "I did meet him, actually, more'n once. He was..." His lips twist into a smile and then a huff of a laugh as Steve drops his face. A tuft of grass doesn't exactly get kicked, but the man shuffles in place nonetheless, as if he knew his opinion might not be looked upon fairly.

"This statue's perfect to remind folks what he stood for. He was larger 'n life in lots of ways, but...don't think folks wanted to see what was most important about him. He was as human as the rest of us in the end, least at heart. He didn't want to stand alone." Again, the Captain's eyes rise to the statue. "But he knew when he had to. That's something everyone can respect."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Seems like every week I was writing a story about something he did," Clark answers, a quiet loss in his tone. Clark's reserved, mild, but he isn't emotionless by any stretch: it's just subdued. Still, for anyone with empathy, the mourning is there: that nerve that is still raw when touched on. Clark isn't alone in it: it's the reason for the quiet area around the statue. Seeing the gold statue touches that still-exposed hurt.

"Human at heart?" Clark asks, surprised. He hadn't expected that from Captain Rogers. "Maybe. I hadn't looked at it that way. Hard to know; he's not able to tell us." He looks to Steve again. "But if he could inspire others: that I think he'd have liked."

Steve Rogers has posed:
A silent nod is immediate answer to Clark. Nearby, beyond the reach of the self-imposed solemnity that the statue seems to create, someone laughs as their Frisbee goes sailing over the other player's head. A bicycle bell rings through the cold air while someone's dog barks for another throw of the tennis ball.

"I think he'd be pleased with how much inspiring he's done," Steve agrees quietly. "You remember the article you did about dealing with Loki and the aftermath. The Avengers stepped up to deal with him, but so did others: civilians waded in alongside first responders to help fish folks out of the rubble. There were pledge drives to help gather up funds for rebuilding 'nd helping the survivors. Everywhere, I heard it said that Superman would've been pleased to see us all work together." The Captain glances from the statue and to Clark again, his smile mild and mournful in his own way. "It's a good legacy he left behind 'nd one the world seems fit to honor. You said you wrote a lot about him. What was the best thing you wrote about?" Now Steve looks patiently at Clark, awaiting his answer in true curiosity.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I remember it," Clark answers as Steve calls up the particular news story. It was well after the battle itself, more related to the aftermath in the city. Clark himself wasn't around during the battle. "There are those that also said it wouldn't have happened at all, had he still been here," Clark parries, though, ruefully. Would Loki have attacked, had Superman been present? Whose guilty burden is that to carry?

"The best thing?" Clark seems to sit back on his heels a little bit mentally, as he goes back into his memory. "The first piece I did related to him," he decides, with a heaviness that betrays some thickness to his voice, but no visible emotion. "Technically co-written with my partner, Lois Lane," Clark admits, unwilling to steal all of the spotlight. "It was just after the spaceplane rescue." The video was all over the place, certainly used liberally during the memorial shows and documentaries; Clark doesn't linger on explaining it further. "Getting to present him to the world. Hard to describe."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I can imagine it was quite the honor. Lots of pressure to get the story right," Steve says with a note of empathy. He wears a small half-smile now, polite and kind. "It was a good piece. I remember reading it over coffee in the morning. Something about it, how you managed to keep it both respectful and yet convey that awe that comes with finding something rare -- good job." He looks like he'd reach out and patpat Clark's arm, but he abstains from doing it.

"Insofar as Loki? We'll never know, but I don't linger on it, not like that. Why point fingers when the deed's done 'nd things turned out for the better? New York still stands 'nd there's been no hide or hair of Loki for some time now. Figure he's off doing his due time in Asgard. We won 'nd got peace in the end, even if there was a cost. There's always a cost in a fight like that, but...gotta be worth it to fight in the first place, right? We fought for the people."

Clark Kent has posed:
"I---, well. Thank you, Captain," Clark says, awkwardly embarrassed, humbled by the compliment, very obviously, but taking it with his version of grace. He's flattered, the humility isn't put on: he's a shy man, much of the time, it seems. "That means a lot. I'm really glad that you enjoyed it. I try to convey the essence of the story, along with the truth and facts. That's what keeps a reader, not a list of things that happened." There's a slight perk of passion under the mild exterior, though: writing is something Clark really does love.

"Yes, you fought for the people," Clark agrees, as if remembering who he's talking to. "Can I ask how the group is doing as a whole? You have some ... big... um, personalities in there."

Tact.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Recognizing that faint spark, Steve continues watching the reporter with his half-smile. There's a connection of artist to artist in a way, even if the Captain prefers to take charcoal to paper rather than fingers to a keyboard.

At Clark's question, he lifts his brows. There's a moment where he calculates how to frame the answer; he's speaking to a reporter, after all. "Group's glad to appreciate some quiet time, but we're ready for the next call to action. If we didn't have that spread of personalities, we'd be at a disadvantage. Everyone brings something to the table," he explains in a tone not quite fully geared to 'charm the reporter' mode.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark's glasses slipped a little, and his smile remains quiet but warm as he pushes them up his nose some and scratches his eyebrow a little. The connection was there, though Clark doesn't know what about: he isn't aware of Steve's drawings, after all.

"I've talked to a number of the Justice League; they had a similar spread, too," Clark offers, as if trying to help to reassure, a bit uncertain about how to do so. "By the way... I said I'm not here to do an interview, and I still mean it; I'd be up front about it," Clark says, with a genuine, earnest quality. There's a sincerity to Clark sometimes that almost clashes with his shy uncertainty. But then, suddenly Clark gets distracted; there's something small flying nearby, and Clark immediately cringes back from it. It's a /bee/!! Clearly not wanting to be stung, Clark evades some, stepping out of the way of the creature, entirely seeming to be distracted by fearing the tiny stinger getting too close to his person.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I understand that, Mr. Kent, I do." The Captain makes to reassure the man and has his mouth open, breath inheld, to commit to the continuation as such, but then: BEE.

At Clark's reaction, Steve too takes a step back in kneejerk reaction at seeing such a thing, but he realizes in the next instant that it's a wee honeybee likely confused about the shine off of Clark's glasses.

"Here -- here, lemme -- " Setting down his helmet, Steve then whisks his ballcap off his head. In a quick and surprisingly gentle swish, he's caught the errant honeybee within the ballcap's crown. "Over here, by the clover," the man coaches the bee as if it might understand him even as he walks the hat and its occupant over to a burgeoning patch of the white puffy flowers. Upturning the cap, he shakes it once and then backs away as the bee circles a few times, disoriented.

"Been stung before?" he asks of Clark as he returns, slipping the Dodgers cap back onto his blond hair and then stooping to collect his motorcycle helmet.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark supervises worriedly, backed off to where he danced out of the way of the honeybee into some mud off the path. "Ah, no; I'm not sure if I'm allergic, or not," Clark says, quickly aware that the assumption for such a strong reaction would make a /lot/ of sense if there were an allergy to worry about. It certainly pointed at that. But no: it's unknown.

Clark watches the bush with a steady gaze as if he suspected that bee might come after him again, and then straightens his collar of his coat some, pulling it up: a gesture that contains a brief shiver. Clark might not be the bravest person out there. "Thanks for moving it. ...Still better than say, a spider." Clark's laughing softly at himself, but the implication is that spiders are much scarier.

Clark then looks down and observes he's stepped in mud, and awkwardly moves to the grass to toe some of it off his shoes. Poor unlucky guy.

Steve Rogers has posed:
There is a sympathetic wince for the muck on Clark's shoes now. They're nothing like the combat boots, loved and worn, that adorn the super-soldier's feet and suit any travel off the beaten path.

Still, he nods. "Not a problem. Sorry to hear about that uncertainty. It's no joke, an allergic reaction to a sting. I was lucky enough to never be stung, not even when I was younger," he reveals, a mild concern still reflected in his true-blue eyes. "Never been bitten by a spider either, though that apparently can have different consequences depending on the circumstances." There's a wry little twinkle in his eye now. He's, of course, obliquely referring to the known personage in webbed spandex who annoys the hell out of the Daily Bugle.

Clark Kent has posed:
"That would be my luck; stung by a bee, and able to make everything just a little uncomfortably sticky, as my super-power," Clark laments, trying to laugh it off, but he IS watching that bush for any returning missile doing a bee-line right for him. It might happen!

"The Bugle certainly has a different way of dealing with those in spandex," Clark agrees. "Actually, my boss was not all that favorable to Superman originally," Clark adds, in a lower, conspiratorial tone. "He'd never admit it now, of course. Not after... everything." Clark glances at the statue that is still very much a towering presence in the park, right next to where they stand, even if the bee was a distraction from it. "But trust has to be earned." Clark returns his gaze to Steve, a quiet thoughtfulness there. Clark isn't trying to pin Steve with the last comment; hardly, his tone was mild and thoughtful, at most.

Steve Rogers has posed:
More of that Boy Scout grin shows up for a passing second at the idea of a bee sting gone mutated into something less useful and more awkward. Clark's attentive watching of the bunching of flowers has the Captain glancing over his shoulder. He can't see the honeybee, but it doesn't mean the wee insect has moved on just yet.

Passing his helmet to beneath his other arm, Steve shifts his weight and nods agreement to the reporter's last comment. "'s'true," he replies in a similar tone. "Time changes a lot of things. That old adage about not judging a book by its cover applies more often'n not. Actions tend to speak louder'n words too, is what I've noticed over the years. Glad your boss came around. It'd be a shame otherwise."

Clark Kent has posed:
"But you have a history of it, since long before anyone did wear spandex," Clark adds, with a subdued smile. The smile grows into a more natural one, as it isn't something put-on. A small light that generally is kept on a dimmer switch so heavily, when Clark is being his rendition of 'mild-mannered'. But occasionally the light comes through, the slight touch of something more, some odd potential.

"A history of trust, one of America's first," Clark adds, entirely supportive, in tone. "No pressure," he adds, gently teasing.

Steve Rogers has posed:
It's not quite a roll of his eyes at the mention of spandex, more a toss of his head and sliding glance away at the old ghost of the ESO tours that lives on yet, but Steve returns his attention quickly enough. Now sporting a wry little smirk, he seems to shrug.

"It's an honor, having that trust, 'nd a responsibility," he admits, " -- one 'm happy to accept. Dunno that it's pressure exactly, but...more like a promise. Freedom's for everyone." Another shrug accents this stance, volunteered as if it were a law of science not to be subverted by any argument.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark chuckles briefly as Steve smirks, though it's only a lightening of the more serious discussion about justice: so that it doesn't come across as an overly heavy topic. Even if it still is.

"Freedom's for everyone," Clark echoes softly, his smile dropping away. "It's a responsibility to all of us that have a voice. To defend that. In whatever way that we're able," Clark says gravely, perhaps feeling the weight of writing with integrity for the Daily Planet.

"I didn't interrupt your introspection here, did I?" Pausing, Clark scans the statue, and then back to Steve, apologetic.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Nah," Steve says on a breath and with a shake of his head. He looks away from Clark and to the statue again, squinting up at its zenith. A pigeon lands atop the bald eagle's head in an ultimate display of irony. At least the white spatter lands on the grass and not on the statue itself -- flying rats, those things.

"Didn't really get to the introspection part. More of an extroverted thought process as it stands at this point, which is nothing bad in the least." Clark gets another of those mild, polite smiles. "'s'more like I interrupted //your// introspection, if we're gonna mince logic.

Clark Kent has posed:
"And saved me from /wild bees/," Clark points out, lifting one hand to rub the back of his neck, causing one side of his shirt collar to flip up slightly against the side of his neck. He generally wears a lot of collared things: helps to mask his body type all the more.

"I'll owe you a coffee or a drink, if you're down for it," offers the meek man, in a show of some awkward bravery, though his gaze drops to the muddy shoes, then moves to the statue, as if to make it easier to be brushed off. Making friends with a hero takes a bit of guts to even try: but Clark hasn't done any fawning behavior at all. It's more like he's just a shy person.

Steve Rogers has posed:
There's a moment where Clark is absolutely subject to that quietly-intense scrutiny that the Captain is so famous for. It lingers like a gauzy cloud over the sun, there and gone again as his heart steps up in place of long-earned suspicion.

"Sure, Mr. Kent. Figure a coffee or a drink is a fair exchange for helping to avoid a potential allergic reaction," Steve agrees. Out comes his free hand, broad and strong without calluses counter to the insane amount of physical labor he exerts on a daily basis even of his own accord. A handshake is on offer now. "Name the time 'nd place, 'nd we'll settle down for a discussion about something other'n responsibility -- off the record," he adds in genial tease at the reporter.

Clark Kent has posed:
"It, um, --- Clark," Clark attempts. There's no backbone to the request to call him Clark instead, as if he'd possibly bend to whatever Steve wanted, as it doesn't actually matter to Clark all that much which way it is, but he's making a quiet suggestion. If Steve wants: but from a stance of not actually minding. There's an easygoing sort of comfortable quality to Clark that is very disarming in it's quality. He's not an aggressive reporter like Lois Lane, there's a different style here, a friendliness in just being personable. Still, the reporter has shown perceptiveness: some layers here, under the shy exterior.

Clark accepts the handshake with only a brief pause; his handshake is about as aggressive as a limp noodle. "Entirely off the record, and with no autographs requested," promises Clark with a quick little smile, and a slight improvement in the handshake along with it, as if some backbone was found. Just a tiny bit.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Then you've got yourself a deal." Noting that the other man didn't offer a time and day, Steve then throws out an upcoming day of the week in the later hours of the afternoon, in case the option of coffee verses a drink comes into contention. Happy hours are a thing and mayhaps Clark might care to save a few dollars in the end.

Handshake concluded, he returns his hand to comfortably slung in his coat pocket again. "'nd if you're Clark, then 'm Steve. Seems only fair."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark only mirrors with a smile as Steve expresses that it's fair. Clark would not have argued either way, probably: he's just easygoing about the whole of it, as much as he can be, considering the awkward pauses that occur. Clark leaves his hands loose at his sides, relaxed there, his slouch still evident, a lean to how he stands, that makes his height less apparent. He /feels/ shorter.

"Monday's great," Clark adds, a little late. Just late enough to be slightly delayed. It can't be that odd, though: Steve's a national hero, so sometimes people get awkward!

"Steve, okay. Superman was always just... Superman." There's a sense of distance there, a gulf. And loss.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Monday it is," Steve firstly confirms, his voice remaining quiet. It is true that the shadow cast by the statue seems to encourage yet the respectful attitude in both men and in the others who have passed by to briefly admire and mourn silently for the loss accented by its display.

He continues, a slight tilted tuck of chin on display: "'m sure he'd've told you his first name too, given enough time. You were the fair journalist rather'n someone who smeared his name through the mud." True-blues continue to hold Clark's gaze. "You figuring coffee or drinks? Know you offered both, but I've no preference myself."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark smiles but shakes his head no, "No, secret identities... I wouldn't have asked him to, or any of the others that hold secret identities -- to share those. They have people to protect," Clark answers, with an evenness that lacks most of the awkwardness. "I respect those kinds of secrets, always," Clark says, firm, secure in that.

"Its the criminals and corruption that do not get their privacy to continue harming anyone," Clark adds. He pivots quickly, with a nervous laugh, "Coffee might be better, as I don't --- I don't really /drink/. I'm the designated driver, when we go..."

Truly, an apt description for Clark: willing to go and take care of others, or perhaps just bullied into it!

Steve Rogers has posed:
More respect for the reporter grows in Steve's estimation. He's been around the paparazzi and those involved in journalism long enough to tell the difference between something said to ingratiate and a stance held with conviction. A subtle nod marks his agreement: secret identities are sacred -- wistfulness flickers through his expression. That privacy was lost long ago for him.

The quick about-face has his eyebrows nearly disappearing up beyond sight of his baseball cap's bill. "'m not a big drinker either, so coffee suits me just fine," he says, nonchalant in an attempt to soothe the awkward. "How about..." The Captain names a small hole-in-the-wall cafe he knows on the border of Brooklyn and Queens. "Say, 3pm?"

Clark Kent has posed:
"That's .... Queens, isn't it? In New York?" Clark clarifies. Metropolis isn't far from New York, really. Particularly not some people that are really good at public transit. Or other methods.

"I think I know the area," Clark adds, gratefully picking up the thread to relax the awkwardness, clearly socially adept enough to move easily in the conversation, to see and adjust. It's shyness, not disfunction: something that probably will go away with familiarity or comfort level.

"Two or three, I can do," Clark agrees. "Same hat? If you have others, I might not recognize you," Clark says, deadpan, but there's a brief little smile under the mild expression, showing the awareness of the joke.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Queens, yes," confirms Steve. A bit of gravel is heard as he shifts his weight again, never one to stay entirely still unless something critical hangs on such a state. "Right down the street from the Target store." A fairly obvious landmark, the man offers this up to better air Clark, given his impression of being unfamiliar with the boroughs of the city.

A quick chuckle leaves him despite himself at the quip. Reaching up, Steve scratches at the back of his head; it means tipping the baseball cap jauntily for a second, a modern take on the fedoras of the zoot-suit era. Affixing it properly back on his head again, he flicks his eyebrows up and down in good-natured mirth. "I'll wear it again 'nd save you the trouble of spotting me in the crowd." By his own little grin, here and gone again, he's aware of the dry humor in it: can't miss the blond with the shoulders broad enough to balance a star-spangled showgal on each side.

Clark Kent has posed:
"A Target? I'll -- find it," Clark says, with only an awkward pause before an assured smile shows up. He will, obviously. "I appreciate that," Clark says, a quick smile poking through, natural and easy, as he enjoys the hat jokes. "Don't feel bad, please," about the recognition thing. "I'm an investigative reporter," Clark adds. "I might have been a detective, but...." he ends up shrugging his shoulders (broad enough to balance people maybe, yet somehow easy to miss), burrowing his hands into his long overcoat. "Maybe it's the freedom."

Clark fishes out his phone from one pocket, to input the time of their meeting. "Okay, got it." Clark looks up to the statue, and then smiles at Steve. The awkward fell away, for just a beat: "I hope you find what you stopped by for," he offers. "Steve."

Superman would be happy to supply a morale boost to the Avenger. Were it within his power to do so.