Owner	Pose
Jon Kent	A day like any other on the idyllic, bucolic farmstead. The Kent Farm is a holdout from years past when things were more ordered and simple. When having a drink meant a cold glass of scratch-made lemonade and evenings were whiled away in conversation or reading. The transition from Out There to Kent Farm is palpable. One can almost imagine stepping directly into the past.     And speaking of things out of time, a one Jonathan Samuel Kent is outside repairing a fence line that was damaged by a falling tree in a thunderstorm a few days ago. By the calendar, he won't be born for some 18 months yet, but at six feet in height, and with slender, lean muscles taught as he hefts a fencepost over his head he seems quite vibrant for someone who doesn't exist. Timelines and Phantom Zones and other things that only have meaning Out There, off of the Kent Farm.     With barely any effort, Jon slams the fencepost downward and it punctures the grounds as though it were not hard farmland, but paper mache. The young man picks up four more fenceposts under one arm like they, too, were mere paper and heads down the fence line.
Damian Wayne	Even without super hearing, one could hear a swarm of bees from far away, heading closer and closer to the Kent Farm. It wasn't bees thoughh, it happened to be a black 2021 GTR barreling down the roads heading toward the idyllic farmland.   As it got closer, it became obvious that it was a sports car, but of course Damian would be driving responsibly...yeah right. He was coming in hot and fast, though he knew how not to get caught.   A chorus of honks echo throughout the farm as Damian brought the car to a rest, parking by the farm house, the sounds of Echo and the Bunnymen quieting down once he shuts the thing off and exits the car. "Kent! Where are you?" He calls out, expecting the lanky farmboy.
Jon Kent	With the sound of heavy pieces of wood landing on one another, Jon drops the fence posts when he hears the vehicle approaching. One corner of his mouth curls up. "*That* can only be one person. What the heck is he doing way out here?" Jon shakes his head. "And why am I talking to myself?"     A fast rush of air kicks up some dirt from the ground as the half-Kryptonian jets over toward the vehicle at super speed. He appears as if my magic on the passenger side of the card with a mischievous smile on his face. "I'm over here, slowpoke," Jon quips to his friend. "What brings you out to humble Kansas?"
Damian Wayne	Damian raises an eyebrow as Jon appears next to his car. "Uh huh, only you would call this car slow." He says, lowering his sunglasses to peer at his friend.   He closes the door and hangs the glasses on his shirt collar, before smirking.   He was dressed in a black button down, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, and black slacks. "I was bored, and since I have graduated there is little for me to do before I blow through yet another bachelor's degree so I took a drive." He said, shrugging his shoulders. He paused as he looked around the farm, after a silence he broke: "What do you do around here anyway?"
Jon Kent	Jon walks around the car to stand nearer to his friend. "Well it *is* slow," the young man digs playfully. "But," he continues, looking at the car appreciatively, "it *is* really cool. It's..." Jon pauses, searching for the right words. "...very you."     Too polite to lean against the vehicle, Jon slips his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and stands casually. "I help 'ma with chores," he replies. By 'ma, he means Martha Kent, who in this timeline, unlike his own, is still alive. "When I'm not studying. If I had half your brain, school would come easy to me. But instead I slog."     With a nod of his head in Damian's direction, Jon adds, "You never come out here. What's up? Is everything okay?"
Damian Wayne	He made his way aorund it, smiling. "It is, isn't it?" A wry smile on his face, though he never flaunted his familial wealth to his friends, he did have a passion for machines, especially machines that went fast.   "That's right, you mentioned you gre up here...before the whole situation, right?"   He sees Jon hesitate to lean on the car, and Damian gives a smile. "You can if you want." Damian looked to the farmhouse, and smiled slightly. Before Jon mentioned school coming easy. "Yeah, well... when your mother kidnapped college professors to teach you, it kind of comes easy. Thisis just me putting in the time to get the real degrees I know I already earned." He comments.   Damian's slight smile flattened to a slight frown, normal for his face. "I just had to get out." That could mean a number of things, of course, family matters, Titans matters, life. But it was indeed something for Damian to want to drive all the way out here to see his good friend.
Jon Kent	An impish smile rolls across Jon's face as he looks to the car again. Perhaps the otherwise simple, humble young man is imagining how good he'd look leaning on a car like this, which no doubt costs more than everything he's ever owned put together. With his eyes glittering and his cheeks slightly blushed, the half-Kryptonian leans back against the machine and crosses his arms over his chest. "How do I look?"     Damian's frown doesn't quite bring a companion frown to Jon's face, but it does causes the empathetic young man's expression to soften. "Hey, man, you know you can come here anytime you want. And you never have to explain if you don't want. Consider this a safe space."
Damian Wayne	Damian slips out his WayneTech phone and crouches down a little, snapping a picture of Jon leaning up to the GTR. He sent it off to Jon, before putting it back in his pocket. "Like you own it."   "I recently...I am about to give up the mantle..." Damian mentioned, before continuing to explain. "I made a new suit, and a new name. And...being Robin was just...it was me you know? And now, I have to give it up or else I'll just be Robin for too long. But it does not help the part of me that liked it. Not to mention Drake or someone else trying to come up with one of the others to immediately take it up right as I put it down, which I am very sure will end up happening, because they cannot just let it be until the time is right. But dammit, if I do not have a say in it, they should not either." he kicks a dirt clod at that, a little harder than he realized he would and the thing just pulverizes on contact.
Jon Kent	Unable to resist a quick, blurted chuckle, Jon stands up off the car. "Yeah, lots of dudes in dirty jeans and a flannel shirt drive..." He gestures as the car with a twirling hand for a moment. "...whatever kind of car this is." There is a muted bleep from Jon's bluejeans. He tugs out his three-models-out-of-date iPhone and flicks it open as the picture comes. He smiles warmly at the picture. Anyone who knows Jon deep down knows that this picture is worth more to him than the car itself. He's just...sentimental that way. "But yeah, I do look like I own it, don't I?"     The half-Kryptonian pats Damian's shoulder once. "C'mon, let's raid 'ma's fridge." As he heads toward the farmhouse, Jon is quiet for a few moments. Unlike many peers his age, the young man has some old school ways to him. And knowing when to shut up and let a moment be is one of them. His size 12 work boots thunk up the wooden porch stairs. Finally he speaks, "Damian, Robin is a part of Damian, not the other way around. You been through some stuff, man. Your...your, I dunno, trajectory has been filled with some real, absolute darkness. I mean, weren't you literally bred to murder your own father? But look how you turned out." He reaches out and pokes Damian's chest once with his index finger. That finger, which could pierce hardened steel like it was nothing, touches with absolute gentleness. "It's *Damian*, not Robin, who pushed through that darkness to the other side. Whatever new mantle you take up, I know you'll do it with the same grit and honor that you did as Robin." He shakes his head. "The code name and the uniform don't make the man. It's the other way around."
Damian Wayne	"Absolutely." Damian said, smirking a little again. It wasn't until Jon mentioned raiding a fridge then he lightened up significantly. "Sure.   Following inside, Damian removes his shoes at the front, walking in with just his socks. "Possibly, it changes depending on who you ask. I was either supposed to kill Father, or take over the League of Assassins for Grandfather. " But I see where you are going." But it was when he talked about the uniform, what made Damian Robin kinda stuck. "Ironically, that will be a bat now, instead of an R." He added, not to cheapen what Jon said, it was more of an add-on.
Jon Kent	Shutting the door behind them, Jon enters the quaint and rustic Kent farmhouse. It's filled with furniture made so well it has been passed down through generations. Every conceivable inch of space on the walls and fireplace mantle and end tables are covered with family pictures. There are Kents going back years and years. And yet not one image of Jon. In this timeline, he is not even an echo. It is a constant reminder that he is surrounded by images and copies of people whom he knows and loves. So very close and so very, very far away. "C'mon, we can pig out and you can tell me all about the new version of nighttime, face-punchy Damian." Jon grins warmly at his friend.