Bacon and Steak

Summary:
December 31, 2014: Vigilantes, men doing right, bacon wrapped around a slab of steak Ron Swanson Style and talks of Green Lantern.

Bakerline

It's on the street, yo.


Characters

NPCs

  • Random Thugs
  • Martin Holasek
  • The Crow aka Eric Draven

Mood Music:
[*<http://insert.video.or.music.link.here>]


Whoever thought it was a good idea to have a Kosher meat market near the Bakerline zoo was a sadist. It wasn't something Lois thought about on a daily basis, but she was actually feeling in that Ron Swanson way as to where she wanted to consume mass amounts of meat for an entire weekend to feel better about herself. The thought was good.

Three slabs of bacon, cause, everyone fucking loves bacon and if they don't they're a lie, six packs of steak, freshly cut and neatly wrapped, a few turkey legs here and there that.. would be cooked by Clark and not herself, and a few other cuts that would at least last the two a month.. but only if one of them decides to develope a tapeworm which would cause them to eat unhealthy amounts until they die a horrible death.

Both bags were handed, tucked between one arm after another as she walks along the way, occasionally stopping to reshift the package with mild annoyance and the thought of actually purchasing a cheap car for trips just like this.

It wasn't until the sound of fisticuffs hit; passing through the alleyway made for great accoustics with a bare fists hits a jaw and crunches it just like so. It all causes Lois to stop and stare, her mouth dropping slightly and bags clenched for safety.

High above the towers of the city, along the zephyrs and clouds, Superman floats in the cold blue sky with eyes closed and ears open. This is how he spends his days; the ones without major problems or Justice League entanglements, or deadlines (he usually gets those done rather easily given his typing speed).

But the nuts and bolts of the day job, that was up here. Superman had heard that there was some sort of cultural divide between the street-level heroes and those non-street level heroes. The idea always confused him; crime takes place on streets and in warehouses and in alleyways. How powerful someone is or isn't shouldn't be judged as how effective they are at helping people. That was all in the heart.

His daydreaming is cut short when he hears some sort of commotion near Bakerline. Blue eyes snap open and there is no hesitation. His body curves downwards then explodes into motion, a cone of air pressure bursting off him in his wake as he heads towards the scene.

Lois looked on, and honestly? She couldn't believe her luck at how weird and obtuse the scene was. It almost looked like a martial arts flick with guns; four men, surrounding a man in a long black trench coat, two with pistols tucked within their belts as three others laid about upon the ground. It was obvious… or was it? That the man in the middle, defending himself was good. His appearance said other wise.

One of the men happens to catch Lois, staring her down with a slight scowl, intending to react until the man in the middle cleans his whistle with a clock to the jaw.

Lois? She's ducking upon the side of the building, peeking over to watch.

"Is /that/ it? I was sent back here for /this/?" The man in the middle laughed out, twirling with a roundhouse kick to one of the foes with the pistol, his leather coat swaying against the chilled air, beckoned by his moves.

"You're gonna die once and for all!" The goon hollars out, drawing a pistol out to point towards the vigilante…

*POW*!

"Oh my god!" Lois cries out.

Tink! Ploptinktink!

The bullet caroms off of Superman's chest and falls down into the damp alleyway gutter. In all of the mayhem, Superman's voice is one of serenity and politeness. "No one here is going to kill anyone," Superman says as he reaches out towards the gunman, fully intending on giving him the opportunity to make the right decision and give him the weapon.

"I'm sure no matter what it is, we can work it out," he adds.

The man holds the gun outright, sure that he was victorious. But his eyes were too slow for the Man of Steel; he missed the red and blue visage that stood right then and there in front of him.

"I.."

The other men who were left, gathered their fallen brothers, looping arm over shoulder to carry them out of the alley, opposite Lois' side.

The vengeful man that stood behind Kal lowered his chin in a moment of sorrow, a vision of a comedy and tragedy pained upon his skin, dark, curled hair that falls along his cheeks, chin and shoulders dangling within the wind as his head slowly begins to shake. He quietly mourned for the thugs who had gotten away. And quietly mourned for the peacekeeper who stood with vigilence.

"But why?" His voice wasn't musical, nor curious. The question put forth as his own reasoning, not needing an answer. Just then, a crow shoots down the alleyway, the touch of his wing dashing through Lois' hair that spilled from her cap to shield her eyes.

And like that? The mysterious man was gone.

The thug hands over his gun towards Kal. He was a bad man, for sure. But Superman had once saved his family, and the guilt of doing harm in his city? Was a little too much.

"I'm so sorry.." The man admits, head hung down. In the end, he didn't want to disappoint the Man of Steel, he didn't have the heart.

"You need to give this life up, friend," Superman tells the man, becoming more conversational as he crunches the gun between his mighty hands. He walks along with the thug for a bit, giving him an upwards nod, "Who was that man?"

In the commotion, he hadn't seen Lois standing there. His eyes are wide with surprise, happy she isn't hurt. Clearly when he's done talking with this fellow, he'll be over to talk to her.

Perhaps in a moment of selfishness, Lois was so glad that Superman was there. She didn't have to carry the bags full of meat all by herself! It was partially his, after all.

The man shook, head still hung down as his hand reaches up to rub at his jaw. His teeth chattered a little, eyes were soon slightly reddened as he speaks to Superman with full honesty. "I know I need to, but I don't know how to make an honest living. And my kids, they're starving."

The man finally looks up and glances back towards the alleyway, a tiny lick of fear crossing his features. "I'm not sure.. but I think it's Eric Draven.. But he died five years ago." Clearly, the man thought he was going crazy.

Lois finally steps along the side of the building, one leg drawn up to press underneath the bag to boost it up in her arm. She wasn't going to interrupt, but she watches on with a little smile as Clark provides counsel.
"Eric Draven? What did you guys want with him?" Superman asks before jumping back to the first part of the conversation. "Listen, there's a guy down at Steelworks, and they're always looking for help. And they pay a livable wage. It's not a ton, but it'll feed your kids." Superman gives him a resigned look with a raised eyebrow. "I need to go check on her." He gives the man a light slap on the shoulder, "I'll put in a good word."

Superman strides over toward Lois and leans in, close enough that only she can hear him. His face looks serious, but his words are not. "What's for dinner?" he says quietly, "Don't tell me it's lasagna."

"I didn't want anything, he attacked us first!" The man was already on the defense but.. he let it go immediately. Hearing that there may be a potential job for him in the works, his eyes light up and.. with a word from Superman? It'll be a guaranteed fix. This was the break that he needed, and it was obvious. "Hey. Wait. Superman." He had to thank him at least. "You saved my wife and kids there, back when the tunnels collapsed. I just wanted to say thank you." The man nods, then turns and walks on. He couldn't believe that someone low time actually is going to get a favor. He had to go tell his kids!

Lois on the other hand, tilted her head to the side as she watches the exchange, a proud look upon her face which soon falls to something more serious, the whisper causes her brows to knit low as her gaze dashes left and right. "Take your pick. Steak, bacon.. either way, you're cooking it."

Superman nods to the man as he departs and gives a friendly wave.

After he leaves, Superman looking decidely more like the real and true Clark flashes a grin at her. "Can we have steak, wrapped in bacon?" His chin lowers and he looks at her earnestly as if this is the biggest question anyone has ever asked anyone in the history of the world.

"Also, I need to call John Irons tonight. I know he hires guys looking to reform people's lives. Don't let me forget." He pauses, "Oh by the way, what's a girl like you doing in an area like this? You see anything?"

Gah! That look totally crushed her, and not in the bad way. She gave in. "A man after my own heart. And arteries." She offers up a bag, then leans against the wall of the building, her gaze drawn left and right.

"John Irons. Alright." As to the question of her being in the area, she purses her lips. "Well. I went to Stryker's Island to visit an inmate there. The cabby took the wrong way and I decided to stop and grab something from dinner from the Kosher shop." She didn't see anything, she just saw him being awesome.

"But no, I didn't see anything. I saw you being awesome, though." She grins, at that, her eyes soon lighting up. "Oh! I met someone interesting today, while I'm thinking about it. Goes by the name of Green Lantern. Care to give me a lift and I'll tell you all about it on the way home?"

"Green Lantern?" Superman nods and reaches under to pull her up-the bags of groceries nestle into her stomach area, along for the ride.

They lift off and Superman is careful to stay within the walls of the steel skyline. Out above it is far too chilly this time of year. But their position makes it easy to gawk. Some, it seems, are not surprised that it's Lois Lane he's carrying once again.

"So, Green Lantern, huh? That's a pretty original name. He one of the good guys or one of the bad guys?"

"Mmhmm." Arm slung over his shoulder, and they were off. While she didn't expect to run into Clark, she was glad that she wore a coat and hat thick enough to not mess up her hair and to bite back the moderate chill.

"Pretty original, yes. I think he's a good guy. I obviously wasn't attacked or punched into oblivion. He seems the happy sort, with a touch of crude. No filter type of guy. I think you two would get along great. Which is odd. You get along with everyone but he's probably the first superhero who seems.. overly happy. And chatty. Very chatty."

"Chatty?" Superman says as he picks up the pace as they get closer to their apartment, becoming a full blown blur to hide their entrance.

Once Lois is able to see clearly again, they're back at the apartment and Clark has already put the groceries away and is getting changed. "I like chatty," he calls out.

"Ye-.." But once he picks up speed, she couldn't really talk. Her face was buried in his shoulder, up until he set her down and she was on her two feet again, smoothing down what little bit of hair she had exposed that grew tangled from the flight. She took her hat off, tossing it upon the couch, her coat soon drawn off and hung upon the hook. Shoes were about to come next, but her toes were still a wee bit cold.

"Yes chatty. You know that bulldog, I think his name is Spike, from those old Looney Toon cartoons? He's like the little'un, yip yip yip all day, but quite funny." Since the food was put away, there was nothing left for her to do but settle down upon the couch. "Not to spring this on you, but I'm going to Gotham in a couple of days."

"Alright," Clark says as he walks into the living room shirtless with a couple of raised eyebrows before he shrugs. "Gotham? What's in Gotham?"

He waltzes over towards the refrigerator in search of milk. "And what did this Green Lantern have to say with all of the talking?" he adds, hopping between conversations.

"A couple of leads I'm tracking down. Maybe to catch sight of your old friend to see how he's doing, while I'm at it." Finally, the shoes come off.

She watches his back for a moment, then turns to try to recall the conversation. "A lot of hubaloo. Just gave me his name, state that it was good to run into me because he's looking to get mixed up into some action. Told him I'd pass the word so you two could meet. But part of me doesn't think that he gets what 'action' in Metropolis is. You really can't find it if you look for it. It just.. happens." Especially around Jimmy. Where was he anyways?

"Christ. I'm starting to sound like your handler. We need to fix that somehow."

Clark chuckles, "There are worse things you can be than my handler. You could be Steve's handler, for instance. As far as Jimmy goes, I haven't run into him at all. Haven't talked to Chloe either to see if she's seen him." He comes back into the living room of the small apartment and leans against the door opening, "Well, I'd be happy to meet him."

She winces, even hissing just a little. "I'd rather not."

"I miss that guy. Jimmy. Do you think you'll ever tell him who you really are?" She pauses a beat, realization hitting her. "You know, I really don't know how to contact that Green Lantern guy. Suppose if I see him again, I'll give him your number. Not your real one, the one I got you." To clarify. She was always careful, even when she was being reckless.

"I'm sure you made an interesting enough impression on him. He'll be back. I mean look at me," Clark shrugs. "Of course, you were staying at my home and cousins with my best friend, but…" Clark chuckles and takes a seat next to her upon the couch.

Lois makes room, then shakes her head. "No. All I did was laugh. If anything, the impression was made by name alone. You do know, that Lois Lane is often lumped in with Superman. I hear that they're a couple, like his secret girlfriend. Or maybe they're a tag team duo for him to get all the money and press so that he could run for president of the entire world one day, thus effectively creating a successful alien invasion in which he'll soon terraform our planet and enslave the last of us left." This, this was serious business.

Clark looks over at Lois sarcastically. "Really? You know the President. Why in the world would I ever, ever want his job?"

Clark shrugs his shoulders and grabs the remote, "If the alien invasion includes farm boys who watch too much football, then the world will shake in their boots."

"Three words. Amazing health insurance." She chuckles at her little joke, then lurches a little to the side to lean against his arm, her head resting upon his shoulder. Her hands raise, giving the appearance that she is actually afraid. "Oh no, what are we going to do! Will he put down the remote? Will he rage against the machine that is football and flip tables once his favorite team loses? Nooooo.."

Her voice was quiet and meek, and with a quick hug to his arm, she gets up from the couch and gestures towards his room. "With that said, Blue Eyes? I'm going to take a nap. Steak and bacon, right? Riiiight?"

"Yeah," Clark says as he changes the channel. "I'll start just as soon as the game is over." He leans back on the sofa and enjoys the holidays in his own special way.


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