Darkness enveloped him by the time he had left the charred remains of old Wayne Manor. For a time, all he could do was stare; senses ghosting across memories from a lifetime ago, from a life he didn’t even know. How very telling it was, like painting Bruce Wayne to life. It was a breach of privacy, no doubt —— and even while he knew he’d not find the man himself in these ruins, he had ventured there anyway. At least until night came, and the rain began to fall. Already, he had wasted far too much of his time and energy. Luckily Wayne’s current residence was still on the family property somewhere. On the lake, if he recalled correctly ( and assuming his research had been accurate ). With no strength left to fly, it was Into the fields he went; hands hiding under his arms for the warmth his body was sorely lacking, and boots too big for his feet sloshing against mud and grass.
It had felt like forever, this trudge through the storm. Far too much time allowed for anxious thoughts and aching limbs.Every step forward was met with concerned caution, as there was no telling just how the man would react. Attempted murder, and his mother’s savior—- the man was a conundrum. Good feeling or bad, Clark could not shake the importance of finding him. If anyone could help him understand what was happening, it would be the Batman, right?
It was through the trees that Clark had found the lake house. It’s sleek, modern structure rested atop of the water ——- glass walls exposing the lifeless insides. At first, he’d felt instant relief. Finally, he’d found him. The closer he came toward the house however, the more alone he’d felt. A mere stumble at the steps, but he urged forward to reach the door. That’s when he hesitated. Panic insisted, because what if this was all just a mistake? He didn’t know the man, not really. He remembered the ironclad boot at his throat, with that glowing green spear parting his skin. The thought left his skin crawling, and the pit of his stomach churning with regret. The Bat had to be more than his aggression; he’d witnessed it himself, that very night. In battle, he had helped-—–and more importantly, he kept the promise he had made to him. Martha was alive.
He swallowed back any indignation ( any fear ), and outstretched a trembling hand to pound once, twice, three times —–upon the door. Nothing. He should have expected as much, considering who Bruce Wayne really was. The Batman. Wasn’t it his thing to roam the city after dark?
❝ —–aah, c’mon.❞ dammit.
Disappointment weighed his shoulders down until, eventually, he let himself drop at the doorway. There was no use trying to make his way back into the city at this time of night, and during this storm no less —— so he’d settle for sitting here to wait, while his body slumped against the exterior. Eventually, he even dozed off.
Jennifer Taylor: The woman who bought Justin his first set of crayon when he was still in a crib. She encouraged him, supported him, and loved him. She also taught him kindness – that huge heart of gold Justin has? That is 100% Jennifer Taylor’s doing. Sure, she’s made some mistakes along the way, but even that was important, because she showed Justin that people sometimes screw up but can grow and change and work to be better. She is truly the person who made Justin the kind-hearted, generous soul that he is.
Brian Kinney: Well, this should go without saying. Now, this isn’t always 100% a good thing. Justin was young when he began a relationship with Brian, and the way Brian influenced Justin at that stage in his life wasn’t all that healthy. However, there’s no doubt Brian helped Justin become “the best homosexual he could be.” He pushed him, challenged him, and made him see that it was not only okay, but his responsibility to put himself first and do what made him happy. Justin’s life was forever changed because he met and fell in love with Brian Kinney, and he would never regret a single second of it.
His Agent: I feel like I can’t give her a name, since I know I’ve written a couple of fics where Justin’s agent plays a role and I’ve given her a different name each time, haha. HOWEVER, I do firmly believe that Justin manages to land an incredible agent fairly early on in his time in New York. She’s a no-nonsense lady, not particularly friendly, and she has obscenely high standards. But she also gives Justin excellent feedback on his work, helps him find that balance between “art that will sell” and “art that is personally fulfilling,” and arranges for him to get into numerous exhibits that any young artist would kill to be a part of. And while she’s not warm and fuzzy, she is quite fond of Justin (and of Brian, who Justin frequently cites as an inspiration for his work – Brian gets a super smug look on his face whenever he hears that she’s demanding Justin spend more time with Brian because he needs more passion in his work), and they have a close relationship that lasts a lifetime.
I was so determined for Malia to be the blog where I stayed longer than a handful of months, as is the typical fate of characters that I roleplay, but, && I really hate to say because most of you have been so wonderful to me, but this is the fandom where I was attacked and bullied most and made to feel the least welcome.
I wanted to fight it, to overcome all of it && stick this blog out because Malia’s different to my typical character, but after having my privacy invaded on such a severe level, this atmosphere is the last place I want to be.
I would always perch haphazardly on my window sill and look up, towards the stars. I would watch them for a while, not expecting anything to happen but secretly wishing something would. Wishing that something would come along and give me something to be excited about.
Watching the stars would give me some sort of inner peace, knowing that in the grand scheme of things I, or anyone else, don’t matter. There are millions upon millions of stars, planets, entire galaxies out there that I will never see. And that gives me a sense of peace, rather than panic.
I knew one thing for certain, and that’s that my life right now won’t affect anyone in a hundred years or so. In a hundred years, people will still look up at the same sky, at the same stars, at the same moon, and think exactly what I’m thinking right now without ever realising that someone has already thought about it.
My best friend would do the same, she would sit and look up at the stars as we messaged each other. She didn’t live near me anymore, but it was comforting knowing she was under the same sky, looking at the same moon.
’What if when a star flickers, that’s someone’s soul going out’ she said. I looked up from my phone and studied the sky once more, watching to see if a star would flicker.
’Are you saying that stars represent souls?’ We were only young, I was turning fourteen in a few days time. She took longer than usual to reply.
’Yeah, if you like. Watch the stars for me tonight, I need to get some sleep. Goodnight Harry’
‘I will. Goodnight Cerys’ I turned my phone off, and it was completely dark. There weren’t any street lamp that could be seen from my window. I watched the stars for her that night.
A few days went by, and I didn’t receive any messages from Cerys. She had probably just lost her phone, or was too busy to talk, which happens sometimes.
I watched the stars again the night before my birthday, and ever so faintly, one of the dimmest stars flickered. I remembered what Cerys said, and wondered who’s soul had gone out.
A/N - So this is my new story! I hope you guys like it and feel free to message me with comments and feedback!
So I’m reading over my scores from last night since I didn’t get a good chance to do so after the test, and I did over 10% better than the national mean, and I am in the 83 percentile for the nation and the program I want into. Not bad for a test that I didn’t study a lot for and that I haven’t seen some of the material since high school, I suppose! It definitely gave me a kick in the ass though, in that it showed me I will need to schedule in study time and not let work take me away from school. I have too much riding on this, and I don’t want to push getting into the program back any longer than it already has been.
Maybe I’m a #perpetualstudent but I’m so excited to be back in school. Idk. Gives me something to work towards, a new goal.