INCOMING COMMS: // @kryptoncorrupt ›› "My husband is busy running a science project. Care to give me company?"
𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙑𝙊𝙄𝘾𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝘼𝙎 𝙉𝙊 𝙎𝙐𝙍𝙋𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙃𝙄𝙈, 𝙎𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙀𝘾𝙊𝙉𝘿𝙎 𝘼𝙂𝙊 𝘼𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙍𝙐𝘿𝙀𝙍 ; there is no flinch at the sudden sound, at the thud of boots against the cave’s grated floor. the only shock had been who exactly had decided to breach the manor’s grounds —— for a single, painful moment, he had been fooled, thought it was clark, flight patterns nearly identical, the speed, the blur of colours. clark, he knows, is off world. IRRATIONAL of him. fleeting weakness, heart over head. eyes remain trained on the screens in front of him, the endless scrolling lines of code, diagnostic, thorough. the latest model of the prototype cryptographic sequencer has failed it’s field op test, and bruce’s mood is worse to show for it.
an u n e a s y truce exists between the league and them, their twisted, warped counterparts, a single silken thread waiting to SNAP. bruce does not trust them, no matter the apologies, the platitudes, but he tolerates them. his plans have not changed. they will be forced to leave when the treaty crumbles, when the tense peace collapses. for now he tolerates them, at the league’s behest, at clark’s NAIVE behest. it speaks, interrupting the dank stillness of the air, and irritation crawls up his neck, settles edging at the top of his spine. teeth grit. perhaps he shouldn’t have disabled the cave’s defence systems.
oh look at that, it’s lonely. there will always be it’s biggest weakness. emotion. owlman should do better to train that out of him. ( because you succeeded in doing that with clark, didn’t you bruce? another one of your failures ) ❛ i’m busy. ❜ they are strangely alike, superman and ultraman, so many common traits, the RAW feelings that peel away from their skin, heart on their sleeve. a heavy sigh is bitten back don’t show any weakness and he doesn’t move, statuesque, lit by the harsh glow of the monitors in front of him, but his gaze briefly slides over to the broad figure emerging from the gloom. it can do no harm to have him here, on home turf, extra time to study him, parse the weaknesses, refine his strategy. KNOW THINE ENEMY. gain the upper hand. ❛ you can stay here. where i can see you. don’t touch anything. ❜ there’s a terrible sense of DÉJÀ VU at the words, a sick feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he remembers —— clark, perched on the edge of the desk, lopsided smile draped over his face, curious fingers reaching out for the half-finished detonator sitting in the clamp. TOO ALIKE. his face crumples into a scowl, easy, familiar, and that feeling surges again, the horrifying similarity to his teammate. the unruly cowlick, the strong jawline, the large hands. indistinguishable down to the mocking symbol on his chest, the distorted expression that would never fit on superman’s face. ❛ what do you want? ❜