About an hour after they'd first gotten there, Clark and Diana were still out talking on the bleachers. School was out for the day, and the campus was mostly clear. The sun was lowering in the sky, just touching the tops of the buildings that surrounded Metropolis High.
Diana looked at her watch. "I should be getting home," she said with a sigh.
"Yeah, I should to–" Clark had suddenly stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes focusing sharply on the field in front of him. Still looking forward, he began his sentence again. "I should be going, too." Standing up—and still not even giving Diana the courtesy of eye contact—he calmly gave out a "see you later, Diana," and walked away, towards the other side of the bleachers. Diana, confused at Clark's apparent captivation, looked out at the field where Clark had been staring. It was empty.
Diana was too confused to be insulted. In just the short hour that they'd talked, she'd gotten to know Clark well enough to know that he wouldn't act so rudely unless he had a reason. Either that or he was an extremely quirky individual. Diana sighed to herself. Nobody's perfect, I guess.
Diana walked home in a mixed mood. On one hand, she felt inspired in the fact that she had found two new friends whose mere existence seemed to prove that the world was not quite so corrupt as she had previously thought. On the other hand, she was still not quite ready to flip her entire worldview based on the events of a single day, and Clark's awkward departure was perplexing.
When Diana opened the door to her apartment, her mother, Helen, was waiting for her. With a loving smile, Helen embraced her daughter.
"You look a bit happier today, Diana," Helen said gently. Her voice was soft, yet somehow regal.
"I am happier, mother." Diana's speech shifted somewhat in Helen's presence, as though she were a different person in a different time.
"And why is this?" Helen asked.
Diana sat down on the living room couch, and began to tell the story of her philosophy class, and how she had met two rather remarkable individuals.
"Mother, after today... I think that this world might not be so beyond saving after all," she said with a hopeful smile.
Helen's face was grim. "Diana.. be careful. You have been gifted with the sight of truth; please do not ignore it because of any feelings of friendship you may share with these people."
Diana was surprised at her mother's warning. "But mother! How can I fulfill my duty to the people of this land if I simply ignore them?"
Helen spoke firmly. "Diana, this world is seductive. On our home, we lived with our sisters in complete peace and safety. Now that you and I have come to this land, we must take care not to fall into the traps of man."
Diana was unconvinced. "Lois and Clark are not trying to 'trap' me."
Helen smiled slightly. "No, I don't expect that they are. I am truly happy for you, daughter, that you have found two such people. I only worry that you might become too enamored with the common culture here, and lose sight of your true calling."
Diana returned a smile.
"I won't, mother. I know my duty."
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
After Class
Clark, Diana, and Lois met in the hall outside the classroom.
"So, wow, that was really great what you guys said back there."
Diana's words brought a small smile to Clark and Lois's faces.
"Thanks," Clark said.
"You're weren't so bad yourself, Miss Amazon," Lois said with a jovial tone.
For the second time in only a few minutes, Diana nearly jumped. How did she?!...
Thinking quickly, Diana realized that she'd taken off her denim jacket in the classroom, and forgotten to put it back on. She had the body of either a supermodel or an Olympic-level athlete, and the tank top she was currently wearing didn't do much to hide that.
"Thanks," she said sheepishly as she slipped her jacket back on.
Noticing Diana's embarrassment, Clark quickly changed the subject by introducing himself. "Hi, I'm Clark. The mocking one is named Lois."
Lois casually waved two fingers in a mock-wave.
Sudden recognition flowed into Diana's mind. "You wouldn't be Lois Lane, would you?"
"One in the same," Lois replied.
Diana's face lit up with excitement. "Oh! I've read your work for the Daily Star! It's really wonderful."
Lois raised her right eyebrow at Diana's usage of the word "wonderful" in casual conversation.
"Yeah? Well thanks, Miss..."
"Oh! I'm sorry. My name's Diana. Diana Prince."
"Diana Prince... that sounds famil—" Lois's cellphone rang.
"Hang on for a second." Lois put her phone to her ear. "Hey you; what's up?... Lex Luthor? What do you want to know about him?... Okay, yeah. I can do that. Okay, I'll see you tonight. Bye."
Lois hung up the phone and turned back to Diana and Clark. "Alright, I gotta run. I'll see you guys later."
She walked off without another word.
Diana turned back to Clark. "Is she always..."
Clark knew her words before she spoke them. "Abrupt, high-strung, and jeering?"
Diana almost laughed. "Yeah."
"Well, I've only known her since Monday, but yeah, that's how she seems. She's not that bad, though. She's actually a lot nicer than even she thinks she is."
"Really? You can know that after only knowing her for three days?"
"Kind of."
"Can you see through everyone so easily?" Diana asked jokingly.
Clark seemed oddly disturbed by the question. "Um, well... not exactly. I mean, sometimes. It's just... uh... farmboy luck, I guess."
Diana was intrigued. "You're from a farm?"
Clark seemed embarrassed. "Yeah... I am. From Kansas. This is my first week in Metropolis, actually."
"Really? It's mine, too."
"Yeah? Where are you from?"
"I moved here from Coast City."
Diana and Clark walked outside, near the football field, and sat down on the bleachers to keep talking. The air was surprisingly fresh for being in the middle of a major city, and the way the sun shone down on the green field brought a certain nostalgia of home to both students.
"Coast City, huh? That must be pretty different."
"Yeah, it is. What about Kansas? What's it like there?"
"To be honest, it's mostly just elderly people who don't want to leave their hometown, and teenagers who can't wait to grow up and get away."
Diana smiled a little, and looked out over the field with a tinge of distant sadness. "I guess I'd fit in there. With the elderly, I mean."
Clark was confused. "What do you mean?"
Diana half-sighed before replying. "I have a name that went out of style a long time ago. The only other Dianas are grandmothers now."
Clark frowned a little, and just stared at her for a few seconds before saying anything.
"Diana, you have a beautiful name."
Diana looked back at him with a slight sense of wonderment. One of the reasons that she spent so much thought on the concept of truth was that she could sense it. By merely looking at Clark, she could have instantly known if he had been even partially untruthful in his statement. But he hadn't. He hadn't said it with even a hint of sarcasm or flirtatiousness. He was simply being completely honest. It reminded Diana of when he'd made his earlier speech in class; it was as if he spoke with unequivocal truth, and she couldn't help but believe him.
She blushed. "Thank... thank you," she said slowly. "No one's ever told me that before."
Clark flashed his trademark smile, and turned back to the field.
Diana sat in silent thought.
Maybe... maybe I was wrong...
"So, wow, that was really great what you guys said back there."
Diana's words brought a small smile to Clark and Lois's faces.
"Thanks," Clark said.
"You're weren't so bad yourself, Miss Amazon," Lois said with a jovial tone.
For the second time in only a few minutes, Diana nearly jumped. How did she?!...
Thinking quickly, Diana realized that she'd taken off her denim jacket in the classroom, and forgotten to put it back on. She had the body of either a supermodel or an Olympic-level athlete, and the tank top she was currently wearing didn't do much to hide that.
"Thanks," she said sheepishly as she slipped her jacket back on.
Noticing Diana's embarrassment, Clark quickly changed the subject by introducing himself. "Hi, I'm Clark. The mocking one is named Lois."
Lois casually waved two fingers in a mock-wave.
Sudden recognition flowed into Diana's mind. "You wouldn't be Lois Lane, would you?"
"One in the same," Lois replied.
Diana's face lit up with excitement. "Oh! I've read your work for the Daily Star! It's really wonderful."
Lois raised her right eyebrow at Diana's usage of the word "wonderful" in casual conversation.
"Yeah? Well thanks, Miss..."
"Oh! I'm sorry. My name's Diana. Diana Prince."
"Diana Prince... that sounds famil—" Lois's cellphone rang.
"Hang on for a second." Lois put her phone to her ear. "Hey you; what's up?... Lex Luthor? What do you want to know about him?... Okay, yeah. I can do that. Okay, I'll see you tonight. Bye."
Lois hung up the phone and turned back to Diana and Clark. "Alright, I gotta run. I'll see you guys later."
She walked off without another word.
Diana turned back to Clark. "Is she always..."
Clark knew her words before she spoke them. "Abrupt, high-strung, and jeering?"
Diana almost laughed. "Yeah."
"Well, I've only known her since Monday, but yeah, that's how she seems. She's not that bad, though. She's actually a lot nicer than even she thinks she is."
"Really? You can know that after only knowing her for three days?"
"Kind of."
"Can you see through everyone so easily?" Diana asked jokingly.
Clark seemed oddly disturbed by the question. "Um, well... not exactly. I mean, sometimes. It's just... uh... farmboy luck, I guess."
Diana was intrigued. "You're from a farm?"
Clark seemed embarrassed. "Yeah... I am. From Kansas. This is my first week in Metropolis, actually."
"Really? It's mine, too."
"Yeah? Where are you from?"
"I moved here from Coast City."
Diana and Clark walked outside, near the football field, and sat down on the bleachers to keep talking. The air was surprisingly fresh for being in the middle of a major city, and the way the sun shone down on the green field brought a certain nostalgia of home to both students.
"Coast City, huh? That must be pretty different."
"Yeah, it is. What about Kansas? What's it like there?"
"To be honest, it's mostly just elderly people who don't want to leave their hometown, and teenagers who can't wait to grow up and get away."
Diana smiled a little, and looked out over the field with a tinge of distant sadness. "I guess I'd fit in there. With the elderly, I mean."
Clark was confused. "What do you mean?"
Diana half-sighed before replying. "I have a name that went out of style a long time ago. The only other Dianas are grandmothers now."
Clark frowned a little, and just stared at her for a few seconds before saying anything.
"Diana, you have a beautiful name."
Diana looked back at him with a slight sense of wonderment. One of the reasons that she spent so much thought on the concept of truth was that she could sense it. By merely looking at Clark, she could have instantly known if he had been even partially untruthful in his statement. But he hadn't. He hadn't said it with even a hint of sarcasm or flirtatiousness. He was simply being completely honest. It reminded Diana of when he'd made his earlier speech in class; it was as if he spoke with unequivocal truth, and she couldn't help but believe him.
She blushed. "Thank... thank you," she said slowly. "No one's ever told me that before."
Clark flashed his trademark smile, and turned back to the field.
Diana sat in silent thought.
Maybe... maybe I was wrong...
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Banner
Oh, hey, while I'm in the middle of making posts that don't have anything to do with the actual story (I'm working on the next chapter right now, I promise), did you guys notice the new banner I put up?
Here's a comparison:
Old:
New:
I have to say, I really love the new banner. The old one was cool, don't get me wrong. It's a screencap of Metropolis from Superman Returns, which fits really well. The bright almost-lens flare at the side is pretty cool, too. It's very reminiscent of an opening title card from a CW or MTV drama, which fits the whole theme.
The new banner is a thousand times better, though. It's a screencap of Metropolis as it's depicted in Smallville, which is basically the version of Metropolis that I'm using in this story.
The full screenshot, as seen above, is really pretty amazing with its waterline and its sheer verticality. It's also a bright blue, which is something that I couldn't get in the old banner no matter how hard I tried (altering the hue of the picture only made it speckled and cruddy-looking). It's really cool because it's literally like we can get a real look at the city I'm writing about; like you can grasp it. I can only hope that I'll get to write an ACTUAL superhero story one day that ends up on TV or film.
Here's a comparison:
Old:
New:
I have to say, I really love the new banner. The old one was cool, don't get me wrong. It's a screencap of Metropolis from Superman Returns, which fits really well. The bright almost-lens flare at the side is pretty cool, too. It's very reminiscent of an opening title card from a CW or MTV drama, which fits the whole theme.
The new banner is a thousand times better, though. It's a screencap of Metropolis as it's depicted in Smallville, which is basically the version of Metropolis that I'm using in this story.
Reader Request
Hey there, faithful readers. (all three of you)
I need a favor. I'm looking for songs to play whilst writing these posts. Specifically, I need ones that fit specific characters. (Diana, Clark, and Bruce to be exact)
If the music fits in with the teenage angle (AKA anything you'd hear on a WB teen drama), that'd be great too.
(oh, and new chapter coming soon) :)
I need a favor. I'm looking for songs to play whilst writing these posts. Specifically, I need ones that fit specific characters. (Diana, Clark, and Bruce to be exact)
If the music fits in with the teenage angle (AKA anything you'd hear on a WB teen drama), that'd be great too.
(oh, and new chapter coming soon) :)
Excelsior
The Excelsior Academy was the birthplace of kings.
More specifically, it was a private school where the wealthy and powerful sent their children to learn the ways of power and responsibility. Whether through business or politics, graduates of Excelsior were expected to become rulers of men.
However, the truth of the matter was that it was a high school, filled with all manner of social drama. With the addition of Excelsior's imperialistic philosophy, however, social drama became social warfare. Verbal jabs and false rumors were the weapons with which the students fought, seeking to better their own reputations. No one was immune to the words of his peers.
No one except Bruce Wayne.
Bruce was an oddity in Excelsior. While the other students spent their time focused on each other, Bruce only paid attention to what mattered. He was a practical young man, rarely indulging in social activities that he was not required to. Those who interacted with him normally found him to be a generally affable person, and he spoke rather eloquently. The girls in particular were somewhat fond of him, as he was the very definition of "tall, dark, and handsome." However, those few who managed to get under Bruce's skin often found themselves subject to his angrily piercing stare, which was almost physically painful to look at. In those moments, Bruce seemed possessed by a kind of darkness that no one quite understood.
At lunchtime, Bruce sat down at his usual table, eating his meal in silence.
"Lex is after you this year."
Bruce looked up to see Oliver Queen sit down at the table next to him. Blonde-haired and reasonably handsome, Oliver was Bruce's only friend at Excelsior. Bruce seemed unsurprised at Oliver's warning, and didn't even make eye contact as he responded.
"How is that different than last year?" he asked.
"Well, for one thing, he's making up all kinds of stories about you. I swear, it's like he's mutating into a woman or something."
Bruce was normally unconcerned with rumors, but this time things seemed different.
For Oliver to actually bring it up... it must be important.
"What's he saying?"
"Oh, he's saying that your parents were murdered in a dark alley somewhere, right in front of your eyes, and that the reason that you're so quiet is because you're mentally disturbed from seeing your parents' bloody carcasses, yada yada yada..."
Bruce was silent.
Oliver suddenly became worried. "Wait, Bruce... that's... that's not true, is it? Your parents, I mean?"
Bruce paused for a moment, then nodded.
Oliver was shocked. He leaned back to take a deep breath, then rubbed his hand over his face in shame.
"Bruce... I'm so sorry; I didn't know. I knew your parents weren't here in Metropolis, but I... I thought maybe they were just back in Gotham, running the company or... or something like that. I... I don't know what to say."
"It was eight years ago, Oliver. It's alright."
Realization hit Oliver's face. "Wait a second... so does that mean that you're the heir to your family's fortune?"
"Yeah. The money, the property, the company shares, all of it."
"Bruce! You're going to become a multi-billionaire when you turn eighteen?!"
"Yep. February 19th."
Oliver leaned back to think.
"Huh. That would explain why Lex wants to take you down, then."
Bruce gave him a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"
"Well, Lex's father is the president of LuthorCorp. LuthorCorp and Wayne Enterprises are competitors in the tech industry, right? So maybe he thinks he has something to prove against you."
Bruce wasn't exactly convinced. "He wants to start a high school feud to make his daddy proud? Not likely."
But something tugged at the back of Bruce's mind, until finally it clicked.
"Wait. How many of the seniors this year come from families with corporate power of some kind?"
Oliver thought for a moment. "I dunno. About half a dozen. You really should pay more attention to something other than books, y'know."
Bruce didn't pause. "And how many of those are in Lex's group of friends?"
Oliver suddenly realized what Bruce was getting at. "All of them..." he said with surprise. "Actually, from what I hear, Lex is being set up with his own sub-division of his father's company when he graduates. If he can make allies out of these kids, he might be able to get a lot of support against you when you both take control of your companies."
Bruce rubbed his forehead in frustration.
Oliver just sat in disbelief. "I can't believe it. Everyone always told me that high school drama wouldn't matter in the long run. Now it apparently does."
Bruce tried to relax himself. "It probably won't matter. Wayne Enterprises is too big for just a few kids to take on."
Oliver was more concerned. "I wouldn't count on that. Haven't you heard about the Luthors?"
"Of course. But what about them?"
"They're dirty. They play the 'we're a clean business' angle, but everyone on the street around here knows that LuthorCorp has all sorts of illegal stuff going on. What's worse is that there are rumors of LuthorCorp actually taking over the majority of businesses in Metropolis, and practically turning it into one big corporately-owned city."
Bruce squinted one eye at Oliver. "How do you know anything about 'the street?'"
Oliver smiled proudly. "I like to keep in touch with the average citizen; the 'little guy.'"
Bruce gave his friend a joking grin. "You actually don't like corporations, do you?"
Ollie was brief and resolute in his answer. "Nope."
Bruce kept the grin on his face. "And yet you technically own one."
Oliver was casually defensive. "Hey, Queen Industries is non-profit. Or at least it will be once I actually get control over it."
Oliver suddenly had a thought. "Man, look at us. Two teenagers trying to figure out the socio-economic effects of whole corporations. What do regular guys our age talk about?"
"Girls, I think."
"Hmm. Okay then. What do you think about her?" Oliver pointed to a red-haired girl across the room.
Bruce looked over at her, then simply said "I've seen better."
"Oh, right, because you have that girlfriend of yours. Tell me, why have I never met her? Could it be that she doesn't exist?"
Bruce was slightly annoyed. "You haven't met her because she doesn't attend Excelsior."
Bruce thought for a moment.
"...Actually, she can probably help me with this problem."
Bruce pulled out his cellphone, dialed a number, and spoke when he heard a familiar "hey you" on the other end. "Hey, can you do a background check on Lex Luthor for me?... I need to know anything that might link him or his family's company to any illegal activities.... Thanks. Do you want to meet me back at my place when you're done?... Great; thanks. I'll see you then. Bye."
Oliver gave Bruce a weird look.
"You're having your girlfriend do your dirty research for you?"
"Shut up, Ollie."
More specifically, it was a private school where the wealthy and powerful sent their children to learn the ways of power and responsibility. Whether through business or politics, graduates of Excelsior were expected to become rulers of men.
However, the truth of the matter was that it was a high school, filled with all manner of social drama. With the addition of Excelsior's imperialistic philosophy, however, social drama became social warfare. Verbal jabs and false rumors were the weapons with which the students fought, seeking to better their own reputations. No one was immune to the words of his peers.
No one except Bruce Wayne.
Bruce was an oddity in Excelsior. While the other students spent their time focused on each other, Bruce only paid attention to what mattered. He was a practical young man, rarely indulging in social activities that he was not required to. Those who interacted with him normally found him to be a generally affable person, and he spoke rather eloquently. The girls in particular were somewhat fond of him, as he was the very definition of "tall, dark, and handsome." However, those few who managed to get under Bruce's skin often found themselves subject to his angrily piercing stare, which was almost physically painful to look at. In those moments, Bruce seemed possessed by a kind of darkness that no one quite understood.
At lunchtime, Bruce sat down at his usual table, eating his meal in silence.
"Lex is after you this year."
Bruce looked up to see Oliver Queen sit down at the table next to him. Blonde-haired and reasonably handsome, Oliver was Bruce's only friend at Excelsior. Bruce seemed unsurprised at Oliver's warning, and didn't even make eye contact as he responded.
"How is that different than last year?" he asked.
"Well, for one thing, he's making up all kinds of stories about you. I swear, it's like he's mutating into a woman or something."
Bruce was normally unconcerned with rumors, but this time things seemed different.
For Oliver to actually bring it up... it must be important.
"What's he saying?"
"Oh, he's saying that your parents were murdered in a dark alley somewhere, right in front of your eyes, and that the reason that you're so quiet is because you're mentally disturbed from seeing your parents' bloody carcasses, yada yada yada..."
Bruce was silent.
Oliver suddenly became worried. "Wait, Bruce... that's... that's not true, is it? Your parents, I mean?"
Bruce paused for a moment, then nodded.
Oliver was shocked. He leaned back to take a deep breath, then rubbed his hand over his face in shame.
"Bruce... I'm so sorry; I didn't know. I knew your parents weren't here in Metropolis, but I... I thought maybe they were just back in Gotham, running the company or... or something like that. I... I don't know what to say."
"It was eight years ago, Oliver. It's alright."
Realization hit Oliver's face. "Wait a second... so does that mean that you're the heir to your family's fortune?"
"Yeah. The money, the property, the company shares, all of it."
"Bruce! You're going to become a multi-billionaire when you turn eighteen?!"
"Yep. February 19th."
Oliver leaned back to think.
"Huh. That would explain why Lex wants to take you down, then."
Bruce gave him a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"
"Well, Lex's father is the president of LuthorCorp. LuthorCorp and Wayne Enterprises are competitors in the tech industry, right? So maybe he thinks he has something to prove against you."
Bruce wasn't exactly convinced. "He wants to start a high school feud to make his daddy proud? Not likely."
But something tugged at the back of Bruce's mind, until finally it clicked.
"Wait. How many of the seniors this year come from families with corporate power of some kind?"
Oliver thought for a moment. "I dunno. About half a dozen. You really should pay more attention to something other than books, y'know."
Bruce didn't pause. "And how many of those are in Lex's group of friends?"
Oliver suddenly realized what Bruce was getting at. "All of them..." he said with surprise. "Actually, from what I hear, Lex is being set up with his own sub-division of his father's company when he graduates. If he can make allies out of these kids, he might be able to get a lot of support against you when you both take control of your companies."
Bruce rubbed his forehead in frustration.
Oliver just sat in disbelief. "I can't believe it. Everyone always told me that high school drama wouldn't matter in the long run. Now it apparently does."
Bruce tried to relax himself. "It probably won't matter. Wayne Enterprises is too big for just a few kids to take on."
Oliver was more concerned. "I wouldn't count on that. Haven't you heard about the Luthors?"
"Of course. But what about them?"
"They're dirty. They play the 'we're a clean business' angle, but everyone on the street around here knows that LuthorCorp has all sorts of illegal stuff going on. What's worse is that there are rumors of LuthorCorp actually taking over the majority of businesses in Metropolis, and practically turning it into one big corporately-owned city."
Bruce squinted one eye at Oliver. "How do you know anything about 'the street?'"
Oliver smiled proudly. "I like to keep in touch with the average citizen; the 'little guy.'"
Bruce gave his friend a joking grin. "You actually don't like corporations, do you?"
Ollie was brief and resolute in his answer. "Nope."
Bruce kept the grin on his face. "And yet you technically own one."
Oliver was casually defensive. "Hey, Queen Industries is non-profit. Or at least it will be once I actually get control over it."
Oliver suddenly had a thought. "Man, look at us. Two teenagers trying to figure out the socio-economic effects of whole corporations. What do regular guys our age talk about?"
"Girls, I think."
"Hmm. Okay then. What do you think about her?" Oliver pointed to a red-haired girl across the room.
Bruce looked over at her, then simply said "I've seen better."
"Oh, right, because you have that girlfriend of yours. Tell me, why have I never met her? Could it be that she doesn't exist?"
Bruce was slightly annoyed. "You haven't met her because she doesn't attend Excelsior."
Bruce thought for a moment.
"...Actually, she can probably help me with this problem."
Bruce pulled out his cellphone, dialed a number, and spoke when he heard a familiar "hey you" on the other end. "Hey, can you do a background check on Lex Luthor for me?... I need to know anything that might link him or his family's company to any illegal activities.... Thanks. Do you want to meet me back at my place when you're done?... Great; thanks. I'll see you then. Bye."
Oliver gave Bruce a weird look.
"You're having your girlfriend do your dirty research for you?"
"Shut up, Ollie."
Monday, October 26, 2009
What is Truth?
"What is truth?"
Diana sat in philosophy class, simultaneously bored and annoyed. She already had her own perspectives on the meaning and purpose of life; she believed that she did not need her head filled with the circular truths of common culture.
Once again, her teacher asked the question.
"What is truth?"
The students still seemed confused. It was only the third day of school, and Mr. Tracy was already delving into topics that befuddled the average college student. After a few moments of silence, a scrawny young boy raised his hand.
"Yes, Mister Allen?" Mr. Tracy asked.
The boy slowly spoke, stuttering occasionally. "Truth is...is... well... it's what's we know that's... y'know... true."
The rest of the class giggled a bit at his feeble attempt at making a point.
Mr. Tracy simply rolled his eyes and turned back to the rest of the class. "Anyone else?"
An older boy, about three seats ahead of Diana, raised his hand.
Tracy enthusiastically responded: "Yes, Mister..."—he quickly looked at the class roster—"...Kent?"
"Yes, sir," Clark replied. He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, then spoke. "Truth is what's real. Truth is everything that's good. It's light; it's hope; it's justice. It's what we believe in when we don't have anything else."
The rest of the class sat in their seats, slightly stunned. Although Clark had spoken somewhat abstractly, his voice carried a resounding authority. It was mesmerizing and inspiring. Diana almost jumped from her seat. Did he just say what I think he said?!
Their teacher was not quite so profoundly affected. "But how can we know what truth is? After all, different people have different beliefs about what's true."
Clark was ready with another reply. "That doesn't change the fact that truth has to exist, whether or not we can see it."
The other students were surprised. No one had ever actually argued with Mr. Tracy before; most everyone just sat through his lectures and tried not to fall asleep.
Tracy continued the verbal spar: "But how do you know that? How do you know that your perception doesn't create truth for itself?"
Lois was also sitting in this class, and couldn't hold her reporter's passion back any longer. "So what are we supposed to do? Just lie down and decide that we can't know anything anyway?"
Mr. Tracy was gentle and optimistic in his reply. "No, you can take comfort in the fact that you create truth for yourself. You can change your world to mean whatever you want it to."
Diana couldn't help but be disgusted with the genuine smile that spread across Tracy's face. "He actually believes this crap?!?" she thought to herself.
She finally spoke up. "So if someone decides that murder is a good thing, then that makes it okay?"
Tracy seemed a bit taken aback at her accusation. "Well, no... I mean, obviously there have to be limits in place..."
Lois jumped in. "You just said that absolute truth couldn't exist. So who decides what those limits are?"
Tracy began to stutter an answer: "Well, we—"
The bell rang.
As the students stood up and began to leave, Clark, Lois, and Diana looked at each other with a mutual grin of satisfaction.
Clark was simply happy because he'd stood his ground and defended his beliefs.
Diana was happy because she'd found, for the first time in her life, other people who believed as she did: that truth was paramount; that its singular ideal was of utmost importance. Here she had found two people in the world who were not simple drones of society; who understood what it meant to actually fight for the ideals of Truth and Justice. For the first time since she'd come to this country, she was not alone.
Lois was just happy to shove the faculty's crap in their own faces.
Diana sat in philosophy class, simultaneously bored and annoyed. She already had her own perspectives on the meaning and purpose of life; she believed that she did not need her head filled with the circular truths of common culture.
Once again, her teacher asked the question.
"What is truth?"
The students still seemed confused. It was only the third day of school, and Mr. Tracy was already delving into topics that befuddled the average college student. After a few moments of silence, a scrawny young boy raised his hand.
"Yes, Mister Allen?" Mr. Tracy asked.
The boy slowly spoke, stuttering occasionally. "Truth is...is... well... it's what's we know that's... y'know... true."
The rest of the class giggled a bit at his feeble attempt at making a point.
Mr. Tracy simply rolled his eyes and turned back to the rest of the class. "Anyone else?"
An older boy, about three seats ahead of Diana, raised his hand.
Tracy enthusiastically responded: "Yes, Mister..."—he quickly looked at the class roster—"...Kent?"
"Yes, sir," Clark replied. He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, then spoke. "Truth is what's real. Truth is everything that's good. It's light; it's hope; it's justice. It's what we believe in when we don't have anything else."
The rest of the class sat in their seats, slightly stunned. Although Clark had spoken somewhat abstractly, his voice carried a resounding authority. It was mesmerizing and inspiring. Diana almost jumped from her seat. Did he just say what I think he said?!
Their teacher was not quite so profoundly affected. "But how can we know what truth is? After all, different people have different beliefs about what's true."
Clark was ready with another reply. "That doesn't change the fact that truth has to exist, whether or not we can see it."
The other students were surprised. No one had ever actually argued with Mr. Tracy before; most everyone just sat through his lectures and tried not to fall asleep.
Tracy continued the verbal spar: "But how do you know that? How do you know that your perception doesn't create truth for itself?"
Lois was also sitting in this class, and couldn't hold her reporter's passion back any longer. "So what are we supposed to do? Just lie down and decide that we can't know anything anyway?"
Mr. Tracy was gentle and optimistic in his reply. "No, you can take comfort in the fact that you create truth for yourself. You can change your world to mean whatever you want it to."
Diana couldn't help but be disgusted with the genuine smile that spread across Tracy's face. "He actually believes this crap?!?" she thought to herself.
She finally spoke up. "So if someone decides that murder is a good thing, then that makes it okay?"
Tracy seemed a bit taken aback at her accusation. "Well, no... I mean, obviously there have to be limits in place..."
Lois jumped in. "You just said that absolute truth couldn't exist. So who decides what those limits are?"
Tracy began to stutter an answer: "Well, we—"
The bell rang.
As the students stood up and began to leave, Clark, Lois, and Diana looked at each other with a mutual grin of satisfaction.
Clark was simply happy because he'd stood his ground and defended his beliefs.
Diana was happy because she'd found, for the first time in her life, other people who believed as she did: that truth was paramount; that its singular ideal was of utmost importance. Here she had found two people in the world who were not simple drones of society; who understood what it meant to actually fight for the ideals of Truth and Justice. For the first time since she'd come to this country, she was not alone.
Lois was just happy to shove the faculty's crap in their own faces.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Harsh Glory
Graceful, poised, and endlessly radiant, Diana Prince walked through the halls of Metropolis High. Despite her natural beauty, however, she went mostly unnoticed. Although she could have easily taken advantage of her looks to rise among the school's social ranks, she preferred to keep quiet. She made every attempt to merely blend into the background, and took care not to wear attention-grabbing clothing. Except for the boots. She loved tall boots, usually black. But, boots aside, she avoided being outwardly noticeable. After all, she was there to learn, not to make a show of herself.
The "popular" girls at Metropolis High had several things in common: heavily dyed hair, large doses of eye shadow, and a chronic need for attention. Diana had none of these things. She preferred to avoid the attention of those whom she deemed to be themselves undeserving of attention.
However, Diana still made sure to take note of all her peers' behavior. This being the first day of the Fall semester, the school was abuzz with activity. New students were working through the confusion of finding where they belonged—both in a literal and metaphorical sense—while returning students were busy reasserting their statuses in various social circles.
Listening intently to every voice around her, Diana waited. She waited for the one voice—the one sentence—that would prove her beliefs about the world correct.
"Hey, did you see the Sharks game last night?"
"Oh my god! My new jeans are ruined!"
"I think my next class is... over there?"
"Hey, Nelson, would you mind helping me with a little something?"
There it was.
Off to her left, Diana saw a girl that was apparently using her femininity to persuade a handsome young man to help her open a jammed locker door. "Hey, sure," the boy smoothly replied. Diana read his face and instantly saw that he reciprocated her shallow affection. The nerve of them! Hiding their lustful motives in plain sight! Before the boy could even attempt to open the probably-not-jammed locker door, Diana walked between them, firmly grabbed the door's handle, and pulled. She nearly tore it clean off the wall. "There," Diana said firmly, giving the girl a quick-but-icy glance. She walked away, leaving the two shallow teens slack-jawed and confused.
As Diana continued her walk through the hall, she suddenly felt a deep sadness, both for the world and for herself.
I really screwed that up. They were acting stupid, it's true, but it wasn't my job to correct them. Or is it? Why must people hide their true selves? Why must the world revolve around lies? Why must I be tasked with setting it right?
The bell rang.
The "popular" girls at Metropolis High had several things in common: heavily dyed hair, large doses of eye shadow, and a chronic need for attention. Diana had none of these things. She preferred to avoid the attention of those whom she deemed to be themselves undeserving of attention.
However, Diana still made sure to take note of all her peers' behavior. This being the first day of the Fall semester, the school was abuzz with activity. New students were working through the confusion of finding where they belonged—both in a literal and metaphorical sense—while returning students were busy reasserting their statuses in various social circles.
Listening intently to every voice around her, Diana waited. She waited for the one voice—the one sentence—that would prove her beliefs about the world correct.
"Hey, did you see the Sharks game last night?"
"Oh my god! My new jeans are ruined!"
"I think my next class is... over there?"
"Hey, Nelson, would you mind helping me with a little something?"
There it was.
Off to her left, Diana saw a girl that was apparently using her femininity to persuade a handsome young man to help her open a jammed locker door. "Hey, sure," the boy smoothly replied. Diana read his face and instantly saw that he reciprocated her shallow affection. The nerve of them! Hiding their lustful motives in plain sight! Before the boy could even attempt to open the probably-not-jammed locker door, Diana walked between them, firmly grabbed the door's handle, and pulled. She nearly tore it clean off the wall. "There," Diana said firmly, giving the girl a quick-but-icy glance. She walked away, leaving the two shallow teens slack-jawed and confused.
As Diana continued her walk through the hall, she suddenly felt a deep sadness, both for the world and for herself.
I really screwed that up. They were acting stupid, it's true, but it wasn't my job to correct them. Or is it? Why must people hide their true selves? Why must the world revolve around lies? Why must I be tasked with setting it right?
The bell rang.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The New Transfer
The new transfer is coming in today. The one from Kansas. Ugh; do they even teach journalism out there? What the hell would they report on, exactly? The rising price of fertilizer?
Not that we don't need more help, but this is Metropolis. How could anything in the hick town of--what was it called again? Ugh; whatever--how could anything in a hick town like wherever-he's-from compare to Metropolis?
The young editor looked up from her desk. She was in charge of the school paper at Metropolis High, which, despite the fact that it was a public school, had one of the best high school journalism programs in the country. The paper, The Daily Star, reported on more than just the school goings-on. The Star was, essentially, a local professional newspaper written for the youth of Metropolis. The very best student reporters from the Star were often immediately hired at The Daily Planet upon their graduation. This particular student had made it her life goal to get into the Planet at all costs, and most everyone expected her to do just that. After all, she was effectively running the paper, and its success reflected extremely well upon her. It was immensely frustrating to her, therefore, that the one transfer student that Metropolis High accepted into the journalism program this year was a farmboy hick who likely knew nothing about writing and could jeopardize her entire career.
She heard a knock on the office's door. Looking up, she saw a boy that looked as out-of-place as anyone could possibly be in this city. He stood up straight--which was a rare sight in this school full of slackers--and wore a red plaid shirt that screamed "I LIVE ON A FARM."
Nervously, he spoke.
"Hi, um... I'm Clark Kent. From Smallville."
Lois Lane couldn't help but smile a little at that name. It couldn't have been more stereotypically midwestern if it tried.
Clark Kent. From Smallville. That is just perfect.
A few seconds later, Lois still had a grin on her face. She stared at Clark almost like a predator—he was a heaven-sent target for mocking. Lois was known for her sharp tongue and relentless verbal abuse. The dozens of different derogatory nicknames she could use for him almost made her dizzy with joy.
Clark just looked awkwardly back at her, perplexed by the look he was getting. It had been nearly ten seconds now, and he had no idea why she was staring at him. They were alone in the Daily Star office, and it was getting more uncomfortable by the second.
Lois's thoughts were a blur of excitement.
What should his nickname be? "Kansas Kid?" Ick. That sounds stupid; come on, Lois, you're a better writer than that. He seems kinda nerdy; I wonder if he wears sweater-vests? "Sweater Vest" would be GREAT. He'd hate me for that. No, wait a second... what was the name of his town? Smallville. Wait a second. Do I know that name? Smallville... nope. Don't know it. But it's perfect...
He's looking at me funny. Why is he doing that? ...Oh my god; I forgot to actually RESPOND when he made his little introduction!... ... ...Why am I still not saying anything?!
Clark broke eye contact and looked bashfully at his feet. Lois suddenly realized why she had frozen earlier.
Oh god; I think I was stuck looking in his eyes.
She quickly shook herself free of her mesmerized state and cursed the color blue under her breath before abruptly and cheerfully returning Clark's introduction.
"Hi, I'm Lois Lane. You're the new transfer?"
Clark brightened up and flashed a big smile.
"Yeah! That's me."
Great. He has an amazing smile, too?
Lois quickly rolled her eyes when she next blinked, getting annoyed at Clark's farmboy earnestness (and its accompanying attractiveness). Switching back into her usual abrasive persona, she set Clark in his place.
"Well then, Smallville, you work for me now. Grab a desk; I've got work for you."
Not that we don't need more help, but this is Metropolis. How could anything in the hick town of--what was it called again? Ugh; whatever--how could anything in a hick town like wherever-he's-from compare to Metropolis?
The young editor looked up from her desk. She was in charge of the school paper at Metropolis High, which, despite the fact that it was a public school, had one of the best high school journalism programs in the country. The paper, The Daily Star, reported on more than just the school goings-on. The Star was, essentially, a local professional newspaper written for the youth of Metropolis. The very best student reporters from the Star were often immediately hired at The Daily Planet upon their graduation. This particular student had made it her life goal to get into the Planet at all costs, and most everyone expected her to do just that. After all, she was effectively running the paper, and its success reflected extremely well upon her. It was immensely frustrating to her, therefore, that the one transfer student that Metropolis High accepted into the journalism program this year was a farmboy hick who likely knew nothing about writing and could jeopardize her entire career.
She heard a knock on the office's door. Looking up, she saw a boy that looked as out-of-place as anyone could possibly be in this city. He stood up straight--which was a rare sight in this school full of slackers--and wore a red plaid shirt that screamed "I LIVE ON A FARM."
Nervously, he spoke.
"Hi, um... I'm Clark Kent. From Smallville."
Lois Lane couldn't help but smile a little at that name. It couldn't have been more stereotypically midwestern if it tried.
Clark Kent. From Smallville. That is just perfect.
A few seconds later, Lois still had a grin on her face. She stared at Clark almost like a predator—he was a heaven-sent target for mocking. Lois was known for her sharp tongue and relentless verbal abuse. The dozens of different derogatory nicknames she could use for him almost made her dizzy with joy.
Clark just looked awkwardly back at her, perplexed by the look he was getting. It had been nearly ten seconds now, and he had no idea why she was staring at him. They were alone in the Daily Star office, and it was getting more uncomfortable by the second.
Lois's thoughts were a blur of excitement.
What should his nickname be? "Kansas Kid?" Ick. That sounds stupid; come on, Lois, you're a better writer than that. He seems kinda nerdy; I wonder if he wears sweater-vests? "Sweater Vest" would be GREAT. He'd hate me for that. No, wait a second... what was the name of his town? Smallville. Wait a second. Do I know that name? Smallville... nope. Don't know it. But it's perfect...
He's looking at me funny. Why is he doing that? ...Oh my god; I forgot to actually RESPOND when he made his little introduction!... ... ...Why am I still not saying anything?!
Clark broke eye contact and looked bashfully at his feet. Lois suddenly realized why she had frozen earlier.
Oh god; I think I was stuck looking in his eyes.
She quickly shook herself free of her mesmerized state and cursed the color blue under her breath before abruptly and cheerfully returning Clark's introduction.
"Hi, I'm Lois Lane. You're the new transfer?"
Clark brightened up and flashed a big smile.
"Yeah! That's me."
Great. He has an amazing smile, too?
Lois quickly rolled her eyes when she next blinked, getting annoyed at Clark's farmboy earnestness (and its accompanying attractiveness). Switching back into her usual abrasive persona, she set Clark in his place.
"Well then, Smallville, you work for me now. Grab a desk; I've got work for you."
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