Author’s Note: I feel like writing Supey today.
Legalities: Property of the WB, not me!
Rating: PG
Continuum: Superman Animated Series (during the Batman/Superman Adventures show)
Power Corrupts
By: Carmen Wayne
By: Clark Kent
EDITORIAL -- Many people contrast Metropolis and Gotham City. They say Metropolis is like an angel, and
Gotham it’s dualistic demon. Perhaps
it’s true that Metropolis is brighter, more stereotypical in the sense of
“heaven”, with its tall, white sky scrapers and it’s advanced technology. In contrast to Gotham’s gothic towers and
lower technology, except to the idle rich.
In Metropolis, everyone has a audio-visual phone, and almost every
person owns a personal computer. In
Gotham, audio-visual communication comes in the PCs that are usually
one-per-household.
But as someone once
told me, “fronti nulla fides”, or “no reliance can be placed on
appearance”.
Superman let out a tired sigh. It had only been three hours since he returned to earth, and still, he was unable to break the code of the girl. He understood her mother due to a universal translator, but the blonde haired, blue eyed Argonian didn’t have her own personal one. But she was a fast learner, taking in everything he said.
He wasn’t sure if it was out of good faith, or foolish trust, that he took her to his mother’s and father’s farm shortly after to try to talk to her. It’d be about a week before her powers, if the Argonian developed powers like a Kryptonian, would show up. Perhaps longer, perhaps shorter, but that’s how long it took for Mala. Superman, now dressed as Clark Kent, flinched at the memory of her, and her cohort… lover… ‘Person,’ he thought.
“Sha du bena mi waja ge wala?” came the soft voice of the female.
“Excuse me?” he asked, turning to her.
She still wore the white and gray jumper that he found her in, but now her hair was pulled up tight in a ponytail. She frowned and pointed over to a cow she saw in the barn across the way.
“Wala. Waja ge wala?” she asked.
Clark looked that way and smirked. He pointed to the cow.
“That?”
“Wala.”
“’Cow’,” he said patiently.
The girl raised an eyebrow.
“’Cow’?” she asked.
Clark chuckled and led her into the house.
“I think it’s time we try to understand each other, girl.” He sat her down on the couch and pulled a chair over on the other side of the coffee table and sat. He gestured to himself. “My name is Clark Kent.”
“Waja?” she asked, watching him.
He figured by this time that meant, “What”.
“Clark. Kent. Clark.”
No response. He let out a long sigh. There was only one name she’d identify with, apparently.
“Kal-El,” he said.
Her eyes widened and she smiled big.
“Ia! Kal-El?! Ia, wala shad du set! Ge la… hetan du?” She crawled over the table and gently took off his glasses to look at his face. “Det Jakanani, du bai Jor-El ladi!”
Clark recognized one word in that. “Jor-El”. Clark smiled a bit and nodded.
“Jor-El and Lara.”
“Duj bjen es kjen!”
Two more words he recognized, when she had woken up after he pulled her from the cryo-chamber on Argos. “Bjen” meant mother and “Kjen” was father. He smiled and nodded.
“Or… Bjen… mother.”
“Mother,” she repeated.
“Kjen… father.”
“Father.”
He smiled and nodded. This was pretty easy, at least for simplistics. He knew it’d get harder the more she needed to learn.
“Very good,” he said approvingly.
She touched his chest lightly.
“Kal-El.” Gently she slid his glasses back onto his face. “Clark Kent?”
“Yes… Uhm…” He tried to think the word she used for “Yes” before. “Tal.”
She gestured to herself.
“Kara In-Ze, nad Kara Zor-El,” she said nicely. “Kara.”
“Kara?” he asked. She smiled and nodded. He smiled back and took her hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Kara. I’m Clark.”
One often asks “Is
Metropolis really all that great?”
One who lives outside
of Metropolis says, “Yes”.
One who lives within it
says, “No”.
Gang violence is up 3%
from four months ago. Theft has risen
20%. Rape has gone up a horrid 13% and
child abuse has risen an astronomical 32%.
The MPD has their hands full, and so does Superman. This isn’t New York City and Manhattan, with
Green Lantern and Troia, and this isn’t Gateway with Wonder Woman, Troia, and
Artemis. This isn’t Gotham City with
Batman, Batgirl, Robin and the newcomer Nightwing. Even Superman doesn’t seem to be able to handle what’s been
coming his way lately.
What’s been coming his
way lately? a newcomer to Metropolis may ask.
It’s simple. People that follow
the archetypal phrase “Power corrupts all”.
“My name is Kara Kent,” Kara said, trying to mask her Argonian accent.
In three days alone, she had already developed a good English vocabulary. As her speed began to increase, so did her brain speed, and she was learning fast, almost as fast as Clark would have.
“Keep this up, and I won’t be ABLE to keep up with you!” he joked.
She smiled and giggled.
“Sorry,” she said in a good humored tone.
“That’s QUITE alright, my dear. But Kara…?”
“Yes, Kal?”
Clark inhaled deeply. He figured it was about time he explain things to her.
“Kara, have you taken notice to my… abilities since you met me?”
“What… is… “abilities”?” she asked, curious.
“’Abilities’ is… the multiple of ‘Ability’. ‘Ability’ is the… is a talent or something at someone can do.”
“Like… the…”
“Like the ability to read? Or the ability to write?”
“…The ability to fly?” she asked softly.
“Exactly…”
“How is that, Kal-El?” she asked. “No Kryptonian can fly without… help. Nor Argonians.”
“Well… when Krypton started to explode, I was sent here purposely, you know, by Jor-El and Lara.”
Kara smiled at the mention of their names, thinking in her own language about what fine people they were.
“Good people.”
“Yes, well… They sent me here because the sun.”
“’Sun’?” she asked, unsure.
Clark merely pointed out a window to the glowing orb. Kara nodded and looked to him.
“The yellow sun charges Kryptonian DNA and heightens it. That’s why I can fly, I can’t get hurt, I move very fast, among other things.”
Kara caught enough of those words to know what he meant.
“Really?”
“Yes… Now, there were others, before you. A woman, Mala, who I taught how to use her—“
“Mala?! Mi gralan si! Si es ‘ah Zenaditao koun!” she said without thinking, the name ringing a bell.
Clark blinked… and then decided to move on.
“The point is, Kara… Mala abused the powers the sun gave her. She wanted to control the world with them. I think that you may be gaining the same, or similar, powers… to me. Now, I’m not going to tell you what to do if this happens… but I hope you’ll be mature and responsible with them. Unlike Mala… please promise me you will?”
Kara smiled and patted his arm.
“It is okay, Kal-El. You can trust me!”
“Kara!!” Martha Kent called from another part of the house. “Come here please!”
Kara bounded off that way without saying another word. Clark sat back and sighed. ‘God I hope you will, Kara…’
“Power tends to
corrupt, and absolute power tends to corrupt absolutely.” Lord Acton said this. This reporter cannot stress that
enough. Think of Lex Luthor. It’s a shame how people can be so… right in
the first place, and then as their power and ability grows, the more dangerous
they become.
It takes a strong heart
to lead a strong life in a meek way.
Kara Kent didn’t like this class. It was only her forth day at Smallville High, and only her second week on Earth. She felt as though she could be doing far more important things. She was already developing the powers she had been predicted to. Super speed, super strength, super hearing and sight. Not to mention she accidentally hit Clark’s car when trying to catch one of Clark’s pitches of a football and slammed a foot into it and came out of the accident unscratched.
And why did she need Earth history anyway? The man, Mr. Garrey, creeped her out, and spoke in such an archaic language, she was having a hard time following. And he didn’t like her. At all. Clark was insistent that Garrey wasn’t singling her out, but she knew better. She figured she’d be quiet, and maybe he’d leave her alone.
The bell rang and students started leaving. Kara replaced her glasses on her head, and refixed the rather convincing brown wig she was made to wear before attempting to run out of the class. But Garrey grabbed her by the back of her dark green leather jacket and held her as others passed. Being good like Clark told her to be, she pretended like it was enough to hold her there. As the door shut, she slowly turned to see the man uncomfortably close to her.
“MS. KENT… *We* must talk…”
She whimpered mentally.
**
When she was finally released, she mentally was thankful World History was her last period of the day. She hated that period with a passion. She just didn’t GET it.
“Hey, Kara!” someone called. Kara turned around to see a rather large jock come walking for her. “Wassup, Kent?”
Kara smiled half-enthusiastically.
“Hey, John… what’re you doing still around?” she asked.
“Waiting for YOU, actually…”
Kara groaned and turned on her heel, starting for the exit of the school once again. John ran up beside her and stopped her. She turned to him.
“John, I NEED to get home…”
“Aw, c’mon…”
He tried to touch her, but she grabbed his index finger and bent it back. John grabbed at her hand and cried out in pain.
“Don’t. touch. me. Okay?”
“Ow—okay—let go!”
“I am having a BAD day today, John!”
“OW! I can TELL! I’m sorry!”
Kara released his finger, patted his head, shoved him away, turned on her heel, and walked away.
Do people realize the
exact moment they become corrupt? Or
does it sneak up and take over your entire being? The second would be more plausible, because can one who is not
corrupt that sees it happening to themselves allow it to continue? It’s a rare few that actually can fight that
corruption… A very, very rare few.
“Kara!” Clark exclaimed. “You CAN’T go around doing that!”
Several months of her being on Earth, Kara had developed her full skill. She ended up throwing a car several blocks down the way, crashing out a semi truck. The whole ordeal had started when someone tried to run her over with the car she threw.
“Mi heshia ‘ah tana greten!” she defended in her native tongue.
“Oh, don’t try to justify it with that, young lady,” he said, understanding the Kryptonian-Argonian language almost as well as she was understand English now.
“It’s true!”
Clark let out a long sigh and sat down on the porch of the Kent home. He patted the swinging seat beside him.
“Kara, sit down, please?”
Kara sighed as well, and did as she was told. Clark sat back at stared outward.
“I had asked you to promise me that you’d be good with your powers, Kara…”
“I know… but he—“
“No buts. You’re lucky no one SAW you. You need to AVOID using your powers.”
“Why can’t I do what you do though, Clark?”
“Because, Kara, you’re worth FAR more than having to do what I do.”
“’Having to do’? You make it sound like a curse…”
“Well… Lets just say you and I have varying feelings… about what WE are. Where you understandably will always be loyal to your Argonian self, I… would prefer to be human.”
The very idea of that blew Kara away.
“You’d abandon the noble FAMILY you were born into for humanity?!”
“Humanity RAISED me, Kara. Humanity is the reason I’m humble, and that I haven’t let my powers get the best of me. They almost have, several times, but never successfully…”
Kara frowned deeply at that.
“I don’t understand, Kal…”
“That’s not important, Kara. But listen to me… you’re special… VERY special. I don’t want something to happen to you that might strip away your chances at becoming someone that can influence the WORLD.”
“…you influence the world, Clark.”
“As Superman?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to succeed without having to use your powers.”
Metahuman.
What is a metahuman? Well, “meta”
means “1. occurring later than or in succession to; 2. situated behind or
beyond; 3. later or more highly organized or specialized form.” “Human” means “that of man” in short. A human beyond that of normal man. Interesting. What’s more interesting is the difference of how people react
when they become metas.
The super hero.
The super villain. Two
categories. One uses their abilities
for good, the other for evil. Epitome
of strength to overcome the corruption versus the weakness and failure to do
so. But when does a hero become a
villain, and can that hero ever regain status as a respectable hero ever again
if he or she betrays those who trusted him or her?
Silently, Clark sat in the barn of his parents’ farm, in his favorite spot. A platform built up by the upper doors with a telescope that faced the stars. His body was aching, as well as his heart. Being taken over by mind to try to take over the world by body wasn’t easy to face to him. Darkseid had used him, and he didn’t like it… Especially when it came to what he did to everyone, especially those he loved.
“Kal?” Kara asked warily, walking up the steps of the platform. “Kal, waja hes du dhanan te farnew ze?”
Clark turned to her. He frowned, looking at her visible bruises (she was wearing a tank top and shorts) and her arm, which was in a sling so the muscles in her chest where she was shot wouldn’t tear or strain. He was surprised she was still talking to him. She wanted to know why he was up there in the barn so late.
“Looking at the stars…” he said softly, looking back out. “Wondering how I can fix things.”
“Oh…”
She sat across from him on an opposing crate that he had up there. Clark inhaled and looked at her.
“I’m sorry for breaking it, Kara.”
Kara frowned and looked at him.
“Breaking what, Clark?”
“The promise.”
“What promise?”
“The promise you made to me about becoming corrupt…” He looked down at his hands. “I was so concerned YOU would be the one that… and instead…”
“…” Kara inhaled deeply. “You didn’t mean to though, Clark. It was Darkseid that did it to you. You’d… you’d never REALLY want to do something like that… would you?”
“Never!”
Kara nodded slowly.
“Well then… I’m not angry… no one that KNOWS you is angry… don’t worry…”
“The public…”
“…will get OVER it, you’ll see.” She smiled a bit. “I promise…”
Clark gave her a weak, but pretty smile.
“I’ll trust you then…”
“Really?”
“Yep… and Kara?”
“Yes, Clark?”
“…Thank you for keeping YOUR promise…”
Ultimately, this rant makes little sense, but
experience allows for more lean-way of what one can have published or not. But before this is closed out, one question
will be posed to the citizens of the fair city of Metropolis. One question that actually ties in the
statistics and the useless points. It
pertains to the dualism concept. One
and the other. This and that. The Yin and the Yang. Metropolis and Gotham. Our modern day comparisons to Heaven and
Hell. To be corrupt or not to be corrupt,
what does it all mean? Anyway, that
question is:
Can Heaven live with corruption, and can Hell exist
without it?
Actual responses are welcome.
Personally, if Metropolis is Heaven and is home to Lex Luthor,
scandalous owner of LexCorp., and Gotham is Hell and is home to Bruce Wayne,
charitable benefactor to all the needy he can aide… then obviously Heaven can
exist with corruption and Hell without it… in fact, wouldn’t both need those
aspects to be able to compare the good and the bad with?
Unfortunately, there are far more many of the “bad”
because the first time they taste true power, they haven’t the strength to
fight back and say that it’s not right and unnatural. Instead, they dwell in the power, and become hungry for
more. Corruption is everywhere, good
merely mediates it from springing out of control…
Clark
Kent