6749/The Future Came To Brunch

The Future Came To Brunch
Date of Scene:	30 June 2021
Location:	Clark's Apartment
Synopsis:	The time displaced Kent-Lane family discuss superpowers and knee scrapes over a leisurely brunch.
Cast of Characters:	Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Jon Kent

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Clark Kent has posed:
It's morning, on a weekend. A rare opportunity for sleeping in, a chance to rest and recover from the fatigue an extremely busy lifestyle causes on a soul. Clark feels positively decadent, like some Paris royal or Bruce Wayne, having slept in until six in the morning before silently slipping out of bed to get his apartment ready.

Lois had the idea, of a sort of family brunch, to help Jon get settled in this timeline and the two of them settled to having a teenaged son from the future. Clark found himself getting excited by the idea; it reminded him of sunday breakfasts at home, big pans full of fluffy eggs, hot sausage, country ham, and enough potatoes to feed a neighborhood.

Unfortunately his spartan Metropolis apartment is not a country kitchen. After a cup of coffee and enjoying the sunrise, Clark decides to go a little crazy and slip out to pick up supplies. Shopping on a weekend should be quick and efficient, right?

"I finally understand Bizarro." Clark says, stumbling inside of the apartment an hour later, arms full of groceries and a certain innocence about the world gone forever. At least, he thinks, there is coffee.

Lois Lane has posed:
Because Lois nearly always ends up staying up later than Clark, and she's awful at getting up in the morning unless he's literally nudging her out of bed so they can get into the office, she's enjoyed a glorious lay in all morning. Even as he fights his way through grocery stores, coffee shops, the butcher, and anywhere else he decided to get fresh food, she's languishing in bed. She's even rolled over onto his side, starfishing a bit and having stolen his pillow.

Around the apartment, a few of her things are clearly present. Her reporter's note book on the coffee table and her glass from last night. One of her shirts is tossed across the back of the couch and her shoes are by the door. Clearly, Lois isn't just a visitor here.

Jon Kent has posed:
     Jon had been sleeping on the spare mattress that Clark had for such occasions, he didn't want to intrude of course, and he was more than a little unsure of it. But he'd grown up in Metropolis, and Smallville.

  The teen was normally an early riser, but he'd taken to sleeping in a bit as he started getting into the second half of his teenage years. His messy hair was even more unruly with bed head. But he yawned awake, and stretched, in a white tee shirt and plaid lounge pants with socks.

  As much as Clark was built like a tank, Jon was...wiry. At least, he was still building up teenage muscle, he may not get to be as yoked as Big Blue, but he definitely was not a twig. "M-mornin." He said, through half-opened eyes, coffee wasn't even on the possibilities of drinks for him, he went for the OJ.

Clark Kent has posed:
"Good morning!" Clark booms, a little too loudly maybe, before relaxing a bit and attending to his second cup of coffee.

"Don't chug that whole thing." Clark says, again pausing as he's not sure how 'dad' he should be, or is allowed to be, or Jon expects. He then decides it is too early in the morning to care about the moral quandries of time travel. "Lois wanted to have a nice family breakfast." Clark looks at the clock. "That we're going to call brunch, I guess. You cook any in your time?"

Clark starts pulling apart various groceries; he's gotten into organic shopping, at least when it comes to produce. It's not a patch on how fresh food was right off the farm, but it feels like a step in the right direction. "Grab a pan and some of the knives."

Is Jon's scratch from last night visible?

Jon Kent has posed:
     Jon's vivid blue eyes are wide awake now thanks to Clark. To which, Jon has a small chuckle. "I...dunno where the glasses are." Jon's scratch isn't in full view, but there is evidence of it over his collar, three scabs in a scratched line on his chest. That and his bloodied white tee was in the bin, what had been missing was his Super hoodie.

  "Yes, I can cook...Grandma and..." he looks around the room, figuring Lois was still in bed. "Mom, they said I needed to know how when I go off to college." That and he was so happy to be a helper, even as a 'jaded' teen he still loved to help. "Okay...knives, and a pan." Jon crouched down to pick out a pan that would suit their needs.

Lois Lane has posed:
It's the scent of coffee and then food that does slowly draw her from bed. Hearing more cooking than normal, Lois manages to recall that Jon has been staying here and walking out only half dressed would PROBABLY be a poor choice. So, she stumbles out of bed and pulls into a pair of dark shorts as well one of Clark's oversized shirts over her sleep tank. She's not getting full and properly dressed, but everything important is covered. She pushes one hand back through her hair, trying to smooth the worst of it down, before she pads barefoot back out into the front room and smiles at the site.

She says nothing for a few moments, simply leans in the bedroom doorway to watch them cooking together. Her arms fold across her chest and her smile widens. She knows they're both too super-aware to not realize she's there, but she wasn't expecting the warm feeling at just seeing them together. "I should ask for family breakfast more if it means you two cook and I get to sleep in." She teases huskily. She then gives a slightly deeper chuckle to Jon's words, "I promise you I told you that so you'd make breakfast on the weekends and I could sleep in. It was a clever scheme. Your grandma, though... She probably was all for the college bit too."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Alright, we use this pan for the home fries, and this for the bacon and sausage." Clark says, melting some butter. Listen, if it doesn't have enough calories to cover the rest of the week, it isn't sunday breakfast. "You want to save that grease for cooking the onions, peppers, and eggs in. Why don't you dice them up while I get the potatoes."

Clark moves at the speed of 'woah', quickly peeling and shaving a few potatoes into shreds, squeezing the water out of them and then seasoning them while getting a pan crackling and ready to fry.

Lois is there, but Clark's hands are full. She may notice him sneaking a look and a sly little smile between his feats of culinary strength. "It's true. She's gotten kidnapped before just to make sure she gets to sleep in." Clark jokes, pouring Lois a cup of coffee and handing it to her. "Good morning."

Clark wants a word with Jon about the blood, but he doesn't want to ruin breakfast. Maybe after...he's not enough of an optimist to assume Lois hasn't picked up on the t-shirt, frankly.

Jon Kent has posed:
     Jon's OJ goes a bit neglected as he helps cut up some potatoes. "Oh...well. I learned a lot living in Smallville we...I probably shouldn't say more." Nothing bad, but the kid had seen too many time travel movies to risk messing up his timeline.

  Theres a part of Jon that REALLY hopes Clark didn't see anything. But there isn't much hope, especially remembering the one time Jon accidentally heat visioned the cat. That was not a good day.

  Jon was slower, but he had a well diced onion and bell pepper soon enough, ready for the rendered grease. "Okay, onion and peppers done...eggs are last, potatoes." He is talking to himself, but he was doing well remembering everything from the future. "This is a lot better than the time I tried to make biscuits...we try to forget about that time." Though it would become a goal of his to get that technique down pat.

Lois Lane has posed:
Of course, long night or not, Lois is one of the most perceptive people in this house. Hell, in all of the Daily Planet. When one thing is off, she notices. She accepts her coffee and even leans up onto her tip toes to steal a kiss from Clark, not embarrassed to show the man a good bit of affection in front of their time-challenged son. But then her pale ice eyes look back to Jon with a bit more concern.

"I'm glad to see you up and about. And managing breakfast easily, it seems. I got worried when I noticed the blood in the hamper. Or...wasn't that yours? I certainly know that wasn't Clark's shirt, he'd rip through putting that on one arm." She steps over, studying Jon a bit closer over the rim of her coffee mug.

Clark Kent has posed:
"Good job." Clark enthuses, and grins at the biscuits story. "Listen, Jon, you can't get good at something without being bad at it first, alright? That's why we work at things. Now the bacon's nearly done, so we crack the eggs...the key to a good meal is everything coming out at about the right time. And, hey, heat vision, we can always cheat." Clark gets egg-ing.

Then Lois turns the tables on them, as she's wont to do.

Welp, he did want to hear this too. Clark does take a step away, as if getting out of the blast zone, but otherwise works on the toast, waiting to hear his son's story. "Not a lot out there that can make us bleed, unless you let it." Clark does add, though.

Jon Kent has posed:
     The teen -had- been feeling good about his biscuits story, but with Lois' astute observations... Jon inhales immediately through smiling teeth, and a scared brow. (perfectly clean and white, by the way) As Lois asks about that shirt in the bin. An empty gulp as he starts moving again, looking back to Lois. "Heh, funny story. Remember that Nick Drago concert I was going to? Nick helped me with the Make-A-Wish kid that wanted to meet us for his wish." Jon sets down any knife he still had in his hand to explain, full on to the pair of them.

  "Well, did you know that demons can hurt a kryptonian? Cause I didn't." His shoulders slump at that confession. "Please don't freak out. I'm fine, it was just a scratch, and I bled on my shirt and my old hoodie is toast, but I'm healing and I just didn't want anyone to get scared cause I was trying to help a friend after Gentleman Ghost tried to kill him for some reason I don't even know. Oh, and Hawkman says hi, dad." Oh great, anything else Jon? No? Good, now zip it.

  Jon winces a little, trying to soften any kind of blow or flying flip-flop, or anything headed towards him.

Lois Lane has posed:
There is a very strange mix of worries across Lois' face. She's not used to having a child, much less caring for someone who *can get hurt*. Her gentle smile falters, looking from Jon, over to Clark, and back to Jon again. She's trying to figure how likely this meeting a demon thing is. How bad is all of this? She finally sets her coffee mug down and steps fully to his side, reaching one hand up to gently tilt his chin back so she can see the wound. "It...does seem to be healing up fine. We can clean it out again after breakfast, just in case." For all the wild youth in this Lois, there are probably moments she's achingly like his mother.

Then she's looking back to Clark, moving to settle at his side as cooking slowly resumes. Her expression is forcing calmness, but the worry hasn't abaited. "How... bad is this? I'm certain we'd both just you rather *tell us* than try to hide it? How...how likely is this to happen again? To either of you?"

Clark Kent has posed:
Hoo boy.

"Generally they can't. Even if something's 'magic origin' like claws or a sword or a fireball, it's just like being hit by natural claws, swords, or fireballs. Otherwise everything some street magician cursed for a hundred bucks could kill me." Clark says, more in the tone of voice he uses for Superman. He is almost annoyingly casual about this, contuning to cook breakfast while his son explains how Hawkman fell on his ass on the job.

That's not fair, Clark mentally corrects himself, Gentleman Ghost's gotten the better of most of the League in his day.

That's our boy and we can punch ghosts out of hell, an angrier part of Clark insists, before being wrapped up under iron shod self control. "It could be you're more vulnerable than I am, or in a different way since you're half human, or you just hadn't stored enough solar energy for your shield to be fully active." Clark guesses.

He looks at Lois. "Okay, so it works like this. My skin, most Kryptonian skin is harder than human skin. Denser too, because of the heavy gravity on Krypton. That's where my base level strength and endurance comes from. The rest comes from solar exposure. We're like, uh, batteries, the more sunlight in the cells, crazier things get. That's why Kryptonite messes with us so badly; it emits a radioactive wavelength identical to that of the sun, overwhelming and destroying the storage cells. But even a mundane threat can short them out."

Clark pauses, and snaps his fingers. "Remember when your dad and Luthor hit me with that bullet train and I passed out? It's like that, I was hit with so much force the solar energy in my cells were worn out, and I was vulnerable to being knocked out. I had to rest a little bit before I could catch my breath and break out. Jon's probably at that level of power right now."

Jon Kent has posed:
     "The last time I even scraped my knee was when I was eight and my powers would...just kinda sputter. I mean...you know how we shave, it's rare and tough to hurt us."

  Jon meanwhile does an impression of a fish when Clark mentions Luthor and the bullet train. "General Grandpa...? With a bullet train?" Oh no. "No wonder you get real..." He does the so-so signal with his right hand. "But...he never tried to hurt me."

  "I promise I'm careful, and I usually you know, help feed the homeless and help old ladies change their spare tires or extinguish a building on fire. Or that one time I defeated Amazo." Not helping anymore.

Lois Lane has posed:
The silence from Lois speaks more than anything else. She's generally not a quiet woman, but her brow is now gently pinched and she's even forgotten to drink her coffee as she listens to Clark's explantion, and then Jon's reassurances he's careful. She takes in a slow breath, trying to swallow back whatever tension of concern she's feeling in her chest, but it's hard. She cares about both of them more than she ever planned.

Finally, she slightly clears her throat and turns to stalk over to the little liquor shelf she has been keeping at his place. She spikes her coffee with some whiskey, knocks it back with a gulp, then turns back around to smile to both of them, "Well, just be MORE careful, Jon. And you too, Clark. Now I'm going to be quietly freaking out any time either of you go into a cave or something. But... You're both strong. You've got each other for back up. Jon...just... Don't be scared to call for help. Please? Alright?" Then she looks back to the food.

"Come on. Your both Supermen and I'm starving. Can't you cook faster?" She asks with a wink.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I'm cooking it right. And caves aren't a problem." Clark says, "I'm like a sponge. The radiation takes a while to squeeze out, and even then I'm still tougher than anything that doesn't have a billion dollar black budget."

Clark pauses. "That's generally why your grandpa was upset with me, kiddo. I was a bit of a rabble rouser in my younger days. Threw landlords out of buildings. I mean, I caught them after, but..."

Clark grins, as if that was a pleasent memory, while serving breakfast. It is, almost annoyingly, delicious looking. "You know I basically feel the same way whenever you jump out of a helicopter, right Lois?"

Jon Kent has posed:
     And turnabout is fair play! "Helicopters?" Jon's cobalt eyes look right at Lois. "Helicopters? As in more than one. And you..." Nope. Nope. He can't be rude. "I promise I will call for help. But I also- I need a new thing to wear out there. My hoodie looked like it was grabbed by Freddy Krueger, and Nick has it now, I think."

  Jon smiles to both Lois and Clark. "I...I missed you two even if you don't know me like in the future. Jeez this time stuff is weird."

Lois Lane has posed:
"We... can we call your mother?" Lois looks over to Clark, very carefully just entirely dodging that helicopter thing for the moment, "See if she can put him together something a bit stronger? If not, we'll at least look into getting you something a bit closer to Kal-El's." Lois is trying to focus on using his proper name when it's just people who know. Some bit of his history, even if it takes getting accustomed to.

Then she's looking back to him as she finally comes over to sit at the table. "And I am not often *jumping* out of helicopters. Sometimes I get thrown out! But it's been at least...two months since anything like that happened and I am always perfectly fine. So, no need to worry. Much less worry our son... ah... Jon. I mean... you know. The kid."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Hmm." Clark says. It feels weird, having Lois call him Kal-El, but he supposes it makes sense for a layer of security.

Still just makes him feel like a werid alien, though.

r"That's a great idea, actually. Ma's been looking for an excuse to come up for ages, and she always takes this weird stuff better than Pa did. A little extra protection won't do you wrong either, Jon." Clark says, wondering how much like pa he sounds with the worrying and fretting.

"But for now, let's eat this while it's hot." Clark has even conceded some serious ground and bought a bottle of hot sauce in case Lois wants to doctor her eggs like a heathen.

Jon Kent has posed:
     Jon's smile grows wide as tall of seeing Ma Kent. "Oh, umm. I should probably mention I met your colleague at the Planet. Terry. But he doesn't know about me. Buut..." A white streak very quick back and forth has a bespectacled Jon in the kitchen, looking very much not like...Jon-El? Superboy. "He doesn't know Jon." He says,using his first two fingers to push up his glasses, the ones that dull those bright vivid blue eyes.

  "Dangit. I left my Smallville Crows hat on the roof next to the music hall." Womp-womp. "Ooh, eggs first."

Lois Lane has posed:
As no one seems bothered by her slip up, Lois relaxes just a little more. She gives them both a wide smile as she starts digging into the eyes. "Well, then it's decided. We'll get Martha down here over the week, get you some new clothes, and... I'll keep my lips sealed around Terry." Lois winks at Jon. She then settles down into the food a bit more, definitely stealing that hot sauce from Clark even as her bare toes wind their way against his ankle under the table. The rest of the breakfast feels incredibly normal and, really, simply... Nice. A rarity for their lives, but one she's learning to savor.