tal-rho.

some actress asking me what happened . . .

[showtal]

⸺ brother, for years, i've watched you do things no other hero is capable of. it's rather inspired me to have a go myself . . . ( so this time last year, you were trying to destroy the world, and now you're fighting for it? ) i'm not fighting for the world, kal. i'm fighting for you. and your family. you and your family are the only people who truly matter to me.

tal-rho is the son of zeta-rho and lara lor-van, sent to earth prior to krypton's destruction with one mission: to transfer the consciousness of the kryptonian people into new bodies and eradicate the human species. his pod crash-lands in the english countryside, where he is captured and tortured by the uk government. all that to say . . . humanity will find no champion in tal-rho. after his escape, he adopts the name of morgan edge and founds edge enercorp, using his abilities to usher in his company's success until he reaches billionaire status. all the while, he's searching for his brother && planning for the end of earth.

# showtal is an independent and private retelling of superman & lois's tal-rho. 21+ ; told by ophelia. mostly found on showgal and occasionally on pressriot. not logged in here on mobile so give me a shout on harleen if you're trying to im me!

links, icon psd & base icons & prompts. about tal, plotting guide / verses.

[championoftheoppressed]

SUPERMAN & LOIS TV TROPES — Tal-Rho

[oftomorrow]

Clark blinks. A lot. He's always made it clear to his niece that she's welcome here, any time, any reason, and she's taken him up on that plenty of times — usually when she's upset with Tal. But this one feels like a lot, even for her.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait..." He holds out a patient hand. "You know you always have a place here when you want it. But before we talk about transfers or forms... why don't you come inside, have a seat, and tell me what happened."

[showtal]

" sure. " this is the price of admission that she expected. she leaves her suitcases on the porch, pushing through the front door with a sense of belonging that even her father hasn't mastered. she falls in a chair at the kitchen table, tapping her fingers impatiently against the wood as she waits for him to join her. she's convinced that nothing he can say will change her mind. as far as she's concerned, she does live here now.

when he sits, she just raises an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. " junior prom. " does she need to say anything else? he knows how her father is. fucking psychotic, she holds back.

[oftomorrow]

Just a few short years ago, Clark had been fighting this man tooth and nail. And now they're in his living room, talking about Whole Foods and Erewhon. How time flies.

Clark gladly reaches over to take Lara into his arms, smiling as he sits her on his hip. "Hi, sweetie," he says to her in a soft, sing-song voice, letting her play with his finger. "Is your daddy being ridiculous?" When she makes a soft noise, he nods. "Yes, I think he's being ridiculous, too. I think if he spends all his time being worried and paranoid, he'll miss out on the joy. And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

Another quiet babble. Clark turns back to his brother. "Look, she agrees with me."

[showtal]

tal's shoulders seem to relax ever so slightly when clark takes her; he doesn't carry this burden alone, no matter how much he might pretend it. he doesn't even bitch at clark about supporting her neck ( hardly necessary, given her age, but he loves to fuss. )

" we're joyful, " he objects. " we go to whole foods. stop speaking english to her. she needs to learn her native tongue. " they speak english at home. ( well. he does. she babbles happily back at him. ) it's a monumental concession, a testament to the lengths he will go to ensure she's prepared for this world.

he wanders into the kitchen, making a point. he's fine when she's out of his sight. really. he pours himself a glass of water, then leans against the doorframe.

" but hypothetically ⸺ what would that feel like? " joy, or calm, or anything other than this constant state of fear. he's not joking when he says he hasn't slept.

[showtal]

" i live here now. " lara's matching purple suitcases are beside her on the farmhouse porch, her cayenne (in the same shade of purple) parked haphazardly in the driveway, two of her gold-rimmed tires in the grass instead of the asphalt. there's a dent on the fender, a scratch on the passenger side door. a different dent and a different scratch than the last time she was here. she'd fly, except she hates what it does to her hair.

" i'm so fucking ⸺ sorry ⸺ i'm so for real. he will not get off my ass ⸺ sorry ⸺ and i'm going to lose my ⸺ freaking ⸺ mind. i need you to call the school and tell them i'm transferring. here. " she offers him a form. " i found this online. i already forged his signature. you just have to sign and, like, give it to the front office. i'll take jordan's old room. thanks, love you! "

@oftomorrow

[helraising-archived]

helena‎‎ ‎ does‎‎ ‎ not‎‎ ‎ look‎‎ ‎ amused‎‎ ‎ in‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ slightest.‎‎ ‎

while‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ brunette‎‎ ‎ is‎‎ ‎ never‎‎ ‎ going‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ take‎‎ ‎ on‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ task‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ trying‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ wrap‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ head‎‎ ‎ around‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ phenomenon‎‎ ‎ that‎‎ ‎ is‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ world‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ harley‎‎ ‎ quinn,‎‎ ‎ helena‎‎ ‎ does‎‎ ‎ dearly‎‎ ‎ regret‎‎ ‎ not‎‎ ‎ being‎‎ ‎ able‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ comprehend‎‎ ‎ why‎‎ ‎ she‎‎ ‎ trusts‎‎ ‎ harleen‎‎ ‎ so‎‎ ‎ much,‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ a‎‎ ‎ fault,‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ a‎‎ ‎ level‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ risk.‎‎ ‎ it’s‎‎ ‎ not‎‎ ‎ even‎‎ ‎ a‎‎ ‎ matter‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ good‎‎ ‎ capes‎‎ ‎ and‎‎ ‎ bad‎‎ ‎ guys‎‎ ‎ anymore,‎‎ ‎ lena‎‎ ‎ really,‎‎ ‎ really,‎‎ ‎ really‎‎ ‎ should’ve‎‎ ‎ thought‎‎ ‎ twice‎‎ ‎ before‎‎ ‎ agreeting‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ meet‎‎ ‎ up‎‎ ‎ at‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ address‎‎ ‎ that‎‎ ‎ harley’s‎‎ ‎ texted‎‎ ‎ her.‎‎ ‎ without‎‎ ‎ argument,‎‎ ‎ too‎‎ ‎ —‎‎ ‎ who‎‎ ‎ was‎‎ ‎ she?

a‎‎ ‎ blink‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ eyes,‎‎ ‎ followed‎‎ ‎ by‎‎ ‎ another.‎‎ ‎ “i‎‎ ‎ don’t‎‎ ‎ drink.”

the‎‎ ‎ way‎‎ ‎ she‎‎ ‎ has‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ arms‎‎ ‎ folded‎‎ ‎ and‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ lips‎‎ ‎ thinned‎‎ ‎ do‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ opposite‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ hiding‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ disdain,‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ course.‎‎ ‎ a‎‎ ‎ cursory‎‎ ‎ glance‎‎ ‎ at‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ gentleman‎‎ ‎ is‎‎ ‎ all‎‎ ‎ that‎‎ ‎ she’s‎‎ ‎ needed‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ decide‎‎ ‎ she‎‎ ‎ hates‎‎ ‎ his‎‎ ‎ guts,‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ pretentious‎‎ ‎ scent-profile‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ his‎‎ ‎ place‎‎ ‎ is‎‎ ‎ turning‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ emergent‎‎ ‎ headache‎‎ ‎ lethal,‎‎ ‎ and‎‎ ‎ worst‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ all,‎‎ ‎ his‎‎ ‎ name‎‎ ‎ is‎‎ ‎ morgan‎‎ ‎ edge.‎‎ ‎ is‎‎ ‎ this‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ part‎‎ ‎ where‎‎ ‎ helena‎‎ ‎ puts‎‎ ‎ herself‎‎ ‎ out‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ mercy‎‎ ‎ just‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ get‎‎ ‎ away‎‎ ‎ from‎‎ ‎ this‎‎ ‎ one‎‎ ‎ hell‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ a‎‎ ‎ stochastic‎‎ ‎ couple?

thank‎‎ ‎ god‎‎ ‎ patrick‎‎ ‎ bateman‎‎ ‎ is‎‎ ‎ a‎‎ ‎ fictional‎‎ ‎ character.‎‎ ‎ as‎‎ ‎ far‎‎ ‎ as‎‎ ‎ they‎‎ ‎ know.

“why‎‎ ‎ are‎‎ ‎ you‎‎ ‎ talking‎‎ ‎ about‎‎ ‎ me‎‎ ‎ like‎‎ ‎ i’m‎‎ ‎ not‎‎ ‎ here?”‎‎ ‎ a‎‎ ‎ heaved‎‎ ‎ sigh.‎‎ ‎ “honestly,‎‎ ‎ know‎‎ ‎ what?‎‎ ‎ i’ll‎‎ ‎ give‎‎ ‎ you‎‎ ‎ just‎‎ ‎ that.‎‎ ‎ harls‎‎ ‎ —‎‎ ‎ and‎‎ ‎ no,‎‎ ‎ james ‎ bond,‎‎ ‎ i’m‎‎ ‎ talking‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ —‎‎ ‎ if‎‎ ‎ you‎‎ ‎ don’t‎‎ ‎ actually‎‎ ‎ need‎‎ ‎ me‎‎ ‎ here,‎‎ ‎ i’ll‎‎ ‎ be‎‎ ‎ out‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ your‎‎ ‎ hair‎‎ ‎ posthaste.‎‎ ‎ enjoy‎‎ ‎ your‎‎ ‎ honeymoon‎‎ ‎ suite‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ yourselves,‎‎ ‎ please.”

[showtal]

" you should, " tal says, not looking up from the screen. " it might help you relax. "

" you should smile more, " harleen immediately hits him with. he shoots her a glare for even associating him with that genre of man, but she's too busy giggling over her own joke to notice. she operates in her own world, like he isn't even there. it fascinates him.

. . . he's beginning to understand how she's survived so many encounters with gotham's worst. there's just something baffling enough about her behavior to keep her around.

" hel. helena. sit down, please. we have three types of sparkling water and i have morgan's credit card, so we can order more, if you don't like what we have on hand. "

" you do? stop going through my wallet. thief. " not for long. he holds out his hand. she ignores him. unfortunately for her, she's the only one of the pair who needs to sleep. he'll wait. has no interest in another play fight with her.

" blondes have more fun, " she says, in response to nothing and no one in particular. tal sighs. points at the open bottle of wine on the counter, for helena's benefit. " what are you talking about?! of course i need you. i'm bored. he won't talk to me. nobody wants to talk to me. "

[oftomorrow]

"She is just fine, Tal." Though he does humor his brother by stepping closer and pressing the back of his hand to Lara's forehead. This one, he does understand — though he'd never been quite so bad, he'd definitely rushed baby Jordan to the Fortress at least once for a fever that simply refused to break.

"Besides, if you rush her to the hospital every time she sniffles, they won't believe you if something's ever actually wrong." After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "You don't have to be in fight or flight mode anymore."

[showtal]

" alright. " he doesn't look alright, though he doesn't make to leave with the child. she seems happy as ever. he raises an eyebrow at his brother. " we are in different tax brackets. " concerning, first of all, that somebody out there taught him that turn of phrase. not surprising, second of all, that he's determined to bend every system on earth to lara's will. " i'd take her to another hospital. or buy the hospital. don't tell lois i said that. i will not survive another lecture on private equity and healthcare. " he means that. he fears her.

" if someone so much as coughs in a waiting room, we leave. " he confesses. " i wouldn't take her anywhere but here if it weren't necessary for her development. tell kal where i took you yesterday. " but lara just babbles. tal nods in agreement. " that's right. we went to whole foods. " which probably won't elicit horror in kal the way it does in tal, but trust him: if he could break out into hives, he would. " she's more of an erewhon girl. but we survived, didn't we? "

and then he relinquishes her to his brother. he only lets kal hold her. lois, if she's sitting. " i'm fine. we're fine. " this isn't fight or flight. that would be worse. " i'm an appropriate degree of paranoid. actually, you should worry more. i can't be concerned over martha and lara. i haven't slept in a year. "

[driverseats]

oh, well... straight to business, then. the 'how can i help you ?' dies on lorelai's tongue quickly enough, making room for his question. & for a woman who's really fighting the urge to tell him the buckingham palace is actually next door, she does keep her signature smile in place with seemingly effortless ease. really, it's the practiced kind – thread count talk would kill in hartford. " i'm afraid it's either our four hundred thread count towels or- paper towels. sincerely recommend the former. " there's really no teasing undertone to that. he's not the first or the last guest to forget they're in a small town inn, but she's here to sweeten the experience any way she can. you know, like a professional. that said, in her head, she's already given him a really tall hat & a monocle. " cross my heart, what we lack in thread count, we make up for in personality – & in scones. " now, buckingham palace wishes it had sookie's scones. " i can't let this linen crisis be how you remember me, how about i ask our chef to whip some up for you ? our treat. "

[showtal]

" well, " he settles on, after a second of consideration. " i might prefer the paper towels, at this point. " but his smile softens into something almost apologizing for his nature as he leans against the counter. a feint. " but i suppose this isn't london. " his move to this country had been primarily for proximity to his brother, but it has had one unexpected benefit : americans hear his accent and tend to overlook his colder nature. he assumes she's one and the same. " that's really alright, though i'll pass your commentary along to the queen. " elizabeth, he means. god save her ⸺ and please don't get him started on camilla. " i don't suppose you know where a man can find a passable cup of coffee? " he's going to order the fucking towels. he's going to text his assistant right now.

[autcnomy]

@showtal liked for a starter

"Morgan."

Businessmen of a certain tier of success tend to know when to withdraw their claws and play schmoozy. They know to overlook distasteful lapses in ethics. They manage to lie so well that their smiles reach their eyes.

Lex doesn't have that problem.

He smiles. His eyes are antarctic.

"I'm surprised you came straight to me, and circumvented my father. What's the occasion?"

He idly fingers the rim of an ever-present glass of whiskey, leaned back at his glossy rosewood desk. Something about the chumminess itself is demeaning, but gracefully, easily so, as if the effort to hate someone he deems morally repugnant isn't quite worth it.

[showtal]

" lex. "

the luthors are an irritation, on occasion an amusement. he keeps them at a distance, just as he does all of metropolis's elites. every slip is calculated ⸺ every brilliant woman he feigns attachment to, every lunch meeting with his peers that conveniently ends up on the front page of the gazette. he's just enough in the world to avoid questions; his reputation is reserved, but not reclusive.

today's goal? more of the same. all of this could've been handled via email, but morgan wants to be seen by lex. seen with lex.

. . . alright, and he'd like to know something about kal-el.

" it's good to see you, too. " he returns lex's smile, almost sickeningly casual. he doesn't care. not about this, not about anything. he plays the part picture perfectly, but there's something uncanny about the lack of heart. " i've been considering an investment in smallville. i thought your perspective might be more . . . in touch than your father's. "

[mallalada]

get yourself a main character whos two primary emotions are "little cunt" and "catatonic with grief"

[championoftheoppressed]

SUPERMAN & LOIS — Clark & Tal Childhood Parallels

[gleecontext]

GLEE S01E18 Laryngitis

[oftomorrow]

@alltootal | continued

there's no one to talk sense into tal. no one that isn't currently under this roof. he tries not to think about lara's mother ⸺ has not said a word about her to kal or to lois, but the promise he made to her echoes round and round in his head. i will give her a better life, he had said, than either of us have had.

lara giggles in his arms, reaching up to press her tiny hand to his cheek, and for a second, tal forgets that he's talking to kal at all. his face mirrors hers, and he acknowledges her with more enthusiasm than he has ever wielded in his life. it's good for her development.

( and tal would know. he has read every parenting book in every language. every study, including those that have been discredited. he will not make an avoidable mistake. not with the most important thing he has ever done. )

" she will be whatever she wants to be." he's still focused fully on the girl, reaching behind him to a basket of toys to offer her something that has not been on the floor. " she will have the world. " his eyes finally flick to his brother's face. he looks . . . alarmed? " what do you mean? " he says, voice too cheery, still a performance for his daughter. " you must have it figured out. i cannot do this for the next seventeen years of her life. "

Clark gives his brother a helpless little shrug, though he hears the slight spike in his heart rate. "I mean, I've gotten better. But no one's perfect. Especially not at this."

He watches as Lara accepts the toy — it feels like just yesterday when Jon and Jordan were that tiny. "I look back on my own father, and I realize... he was just making it up as he went, too. But that's okay. He loved me. He was present. And I know you're making that exact same commitment to her."

[showtal]

" zeta-rho, " he murmurs, scooping his daughter into his arms. she bursts into a fit of giggles. " was not winging it. he knew exactly what he was doing. " it's not strange to hear him talk about it, but it is strange to hear the higher-pitched tone he adopts. it isn't quite baby talk, but it is good for her development. clark is right. he loves her. he's present. his own father had only given him one of those things, and it had not been enough.

he kisses her forehead, then stands, bouncing her in his arms. " does she seem warm to you? we've been to the emergency room twice this week. i'm about to buy a hospital. " it's a cruelty that her kryptonian side won't kick in for another decade or so; tal doesn't think he'll sleep until then. isn't sure how he's going to bear her being out of his sight to go to school.

[showtal]

i repurposed @alltootal to be a fun little about page for him but, like, if you don't want to read

[showtal]

i could not do harleen's 9 characters to save my life but tal? easiest thing i've done in my life. behold. 9 people that make me think of Him :)

[showtal]

he's never seen a movie before but if anyone showed him pretty woman it would ruin several lives

[lifeforms]

chloe's out of town with family, and lana's ⸺ what? not bored. she doesn't do 'bored', not quite. she's curious. she likes harleen, and she wants to see what she's like outside of work. she also wants to know what her deal with morgan edge is, because picturing the two of them together is almost more than she can manage.

( she can see it, to be sure ⸺ it makes sense ⸺ but she lacks the imagination to do the pair justice. )

"water would be great, thanks." lana's never been alone with him before; she doesn't know what she'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't a gentleman butler routine. especially not in a room that's so ... pink. it's a scene designed to revolve exclusively around harleen, and it does, the second she arrives.

"you don't need to feed me." she shoots him an apologetic glance. "i'm not even a real doctor. there is literally a fridge in my office." she does have a phd, and she does, arguably, save some lives ⸺ but lana's never gotten comfortable with that brand of acknowledgement.

twenty questions, luckily, is a strength of hers. who's the hot nurse? lana smiles. holds up her hand in morgan's direction to say she's fine, everything's good, that she more or less knew what she was signing up for.

"my wife. chloe." a beat. "unless you don't mean blonde, about your height, runs the intake desk." she does talk to other people. allegedly. she did get here without any help. "do i get to play, too, or is this a one-way interrogation?"

[showtal]

" i'm already feeding her, " he says. case in point: harleen's holding out her hand for his phone, not relenting until it's placed into her palm. she starts scrolling through ubereats. " you wouldn't have to go if you didn't bitch so much about exorbitant delivery fees. jesus christ. you make 70k a year, harleen, you can't afford to spend $40 on dinner, blah blah. "

he just leans over the couch, ignoring that. no point in arguing with her when she does it with herself. " not there, " he objects to her choice. " they failed their health inspection last year. "

" see? " she says to lana, eyes sparkling. " he's good for something. better, your highness? " she holds the phone up to him, highlighting a chinese place across the street. he doesn't object, so she leans into lana to whisper conspiratorially. " morgan hunts poor people for sport. that's why he doesn't eat take out. "

he ignores that, too. chooses to address lana instead. " i suspect i have a better grasp on your job description than dr. quinzel. " don't downplay your contributions, he means.

" wife? " " wife? " they're a little too in sync, perhaps revealing one-too-many late night conversations as to this mysterious nurse. morgan raises an eyebrow at harleen, as if to say, how could you have missed that?! " wait ⸺ wait, wait. that's your wife? i was imagining some . . . academic professor type. and you know i'm an open book . . . do you want egg rolls? morgan. sit. don't make me interrogate lana alone. "

" you've been doing such a good job of it. " but he does. comes around the couch and nudges her out of the way so there's space for him. she doesn't really move, so he just locks an arm around her waist and sets her to the side. " i was working. " harleen just makes a blah blah gesture with her hand, leaning against him. he tugs at the sleeve of her scrub top ⸺ scrubs? on my couch? ⸺ but she only rolls her eyes. " lana, what do you want? "