2012-06-24 Oranges and Television

North, dear boy. North.

Over the fast glacial expanse of the arctic, the pair of Kryptonian descendants fly a great distance into the great desolate region where Superman's headquarters lies. It's easily seen by Lor's eyes, but to the normal human eye, or even those of satellites, recognition is something else entirely.

After landing, Superman enters the crystal palace and the pair enter. Down a long hallway, their boots clack against the hard surface of the floor, until they reach an open expanse. There: The most similar known thing to Krypton left in the Universe. Superman's home away from home.

Lor-Zod is silent for most of the journey, seeming quite guarded after his encounter with Supergirl. When they do reach the Fortress, he remains quiet but also seems a bit dazzled by it all. Still speaking in Kryptonian, he remarks upon his first view of the interior, "This is just like the images I have seen of Krypton."

Superman smiles faintly and nods to Lor. "That's the idea, Lor-Zod. Like you I never knew Krypton. It was my hope to model it after our homeland to help give me an idea as to what it would have been liked to live there." He motions his hand over towards the left, where a small table and futuristic looking chairs rest. "Come. Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Food? Water?"

Lor-Zod nods his understanding, and then he goes to take a seat at the table. "If it will ease your mind for me to break bread with you, Blood of Jor-El, then I will do so. I have no hostile intentions. I was on an exploration mission only," he says in a practiced tone. "But, I do not require sustenance right now." The performance is marred rather notably when his stomach gives a sudden growl. He at least has the sense to look embarrassed about it.

Superman purses his lips for a moment, judging how to best respond. He attempts to do the polite thing and puts things on himself, "Well, I'm famished, to be honest. Just a moment." He disappears and comes back with a basket full of rolls, fruit, and some finger-vegetables, as well as a pitcher of water. A droid of some sort follows behind with two glasses upon a tray. The snack is placed on the table and Superman takes a seat.

"I'm not so worried about hostile intentions. I figure if you were coming here with hostility, you'd have chosen a different route...and a different crest to wear upon your chest. I apologize for the antics of my cousin. She's still new to this world, and has not yet learned restraint."

When Superman returns with the food, Lor-Zod says, "Thank you. I was simply... attempting to be polite. I was not raised to ask for gifts from strangers." He hesitantly reaches out to pick up an orange from the basket, examining it with curiosity. "This is produce from this world? I have never seen such a thing before."

He pauses, grimacing a bit at the mention of Supergirl, and says, "Clearly, she has not learned the lessons of Krypton. It was division among the people that destroyed us. Unity was our only hope, and it failed." This is said with a certain regret, though it's not hard to imagine that this is another thing he's been told. It's a historical fact he recites, not a personal experience.

He hesitates another moment, then lifts the orange to his mouth and bites into it, through the peel and all. Juice practically explodes onto his face as he chews thoughtfully, looking quite awkward about the whole process.

Superman peels an orange of his own, but does not make a face or laugh at the interchange. Instead he sighs and nods, "From her perspective Lor, her world was just destroyed yesterday. These feelings are very fresh for her. She lived the entirety of her awaken life on that planet. While her violent reaction was inappropriate, I can understand her feelings." Superman then pauses before he asks, "So, I've got to know...How did you get here? Obviously your ship was following Kara's...but" He's lost for words for a moment. "Where do you come from?"

Setting aside the orange, Lor-Zod wipes his face clean as best he can. He swallows, remarking off-handedly, "I've never experienced such foods before. At home, all there was to eat was a basic nutrient paste, and I was fortunate to have that." He pauses on this natural segue into Superman's question, then answers in the most matter-of-fact tone he can muster: "I was born to my parents, Dru-Zod and Ursa, in the Phantom Zone. I was raised there. My father knew Krypton was destroyed, so he was trying to find a way to escape and look for survivors."

At this moment, Lor stops to give Superman a rather sharp look. "He never stopped wanting to help his people. Even though they left him to rot in a prison dimension where there is no chance of redemption for his... mistakes. But he could not escape. But I was different, probably because I was born there. So, he sent me to find other Kryptonians and see what had become of the survivors. My ship located the first Kryptonian signal it could find--Kara Zor-El's--and then it followed her here."

Superman sits back and pauses for a great while thinking about how to proceed. "Lor, your father and my family did not see eye to eye. Kara's reaction is based on the belief of may Kryptonian's at the time. While I'm sure the story was more convoluted than that, your father was convicted of some pretty serious crimes." Pause. "In any event, is your goal to gather information and return to your father? I would share Kara's concern that he would use any information to get back at my family for his incarceration."

A frown crosses Lor-Zod's face, and he judiciously wipes his face on his sleeve before answering. "I have no way to return. If my ship worked correctly, it sent back information to him. If not, then... I don't know. He did not know any way for him to be freed without Kryptonian technology on the outside. I was... different. I believe he wanted me to... be free -- safe, outside the Phantom Zone."" He pauses again, dropping his hand back to rest lightly on the table. Then he looks up at Superman, blue eyes intently focused. "Are we going to continue our fathers' fight, Kal-El?"

"No." Superman says simply. "That's why I've brought you here. To my home. To give you information about this new world. I hope that we can be allies, Lor. I hope that we can work together and that you too can live here among the humans and be happy. It's the same hope I have for Kara."

This draws a slow nod from the young man. "I know my father dislikes your family. He felt betrayed by your father. Your father called mine a criminal. Whatever happened before, that was on Krypton, and it happened a long time ago. I'm not here to fight anyone."

Superman nods as he breaks apart one of the rolls. Using a knife, he puts a yellowish spread on the parts torn away from each other. "It was a long time ago. You're right. Have you thought at all about what your plans might be?"

Lor slumps back in the chair, looking for the first time openly uncertain. "I... do not know. I suppose I must learn to integrate with the population, since it seems that Kryptonian culture is not locally accepted." He pauses, his expression becoming guarded again. "You said that you had never seen Krypton, either. Have you chosen to integrate with Earth culture out of ignorance or preference?"

"For me, this is my home. Integration is a weird term, because I've never felt as if this culture was foreign, more that I was just foreign within it. So, it's a different vantage point for certain. That being said, I love it here. These are my people. It is my adopted home and my adopted culture." Superman chomps some more bread, takes a swig of water, and slides the basket more towards Lor. "In your adaptation process, I'd be willing to help you in any way that I can. I can teach you language, customs, law, and the like. I can also tell you about the powers that have already begun to grow within you and how we use those powers for good."

Lor-Zod picks up his abandoned orange, now beginning to peel it like he saw Superman do. "I noticed that I felt strange here. And then, the flying -- it was amazing. I would like to learn the local language, customs, and all that. What else must I do to fit in here?" He discovers the segmentation of the orange, pulling out a wedge and then popping that in his mouth, which proves rather less messy.

"The language of my home nation will be no issue at all. You'll be able to learn that in a day. I also have a system of datacubes on customs from around the world, as well as informational journals on my own exploits on this planet. You're able to stay here as long as you wish. I'd invite you to my personal dwelling in Metropolis, but I fear that Kara might not be able to handle it at this point."

Nodding, Lor-Zod says, "I would appreciate that. I would not wish to disrupt the peace of your home, so if you wish it I will stay away from this 'Metropolis' city. Am I to remain away from the populace, then?" This question seems to mean a lot to him, but he tries to remain casual anyway. He finishes his orange, clearly seeming to enjoy it, and then reaches for a roll, examining it with mounting curiosity. "Is this also a fruit? It seems different in composition."

"It's actually called bread. It's made from flour and yeast. It's a staple here on Earth." Superman then hits back at the young man's original question, "I figured you would want to review as much information before going among them, but the ultimate decision is up to you. I gave the choice to Kara, and she chose to jump in headlong. In retrospect, it was probably a poor decision. Both by her and by me."

Lor-Zod's eyes light up as he puts a form to the abstract term "bread," which he had only ever heard before as an idea, and splits the roll, buttering it as he saw Kal-El do. He samples it, smiling a bit at the flavor, and once he's finished chewing he says, "I can see why it is favored. The taste is pleasant but simple." Then he sits back a bit, setting down the pieces of bread, and his expression turns serious again. "I don't want to be rash like Kara Zor-El. I would prefer to learn to go among these people in a way that will not endanger anyone. Is there a way to do that?"

"Well, you can stay here. Plenty of space. You can learn and think about how you'd like to proceed. I don't imagine, with your superspeed and recollection powers that you're going to see formulate, it'll take much time for you to get a good understanding." Superman looks to the boy, "For me, it's very important that the humans see us as friends. Not gods. Not foes. They do not know that we are aliens. Moreover, I live a life as one of them."

This seems to trouble Lor-Zod. "I don't want to be the enemy of this world. Does that mean that I must remain in exile until I am prepared to -- to do whatever it is you do?" He looks around the Fortress, expression uncertain. "This place seems safe and pleasant, but I did enjoy seeing the outside. The sky."

"Lor, I think you're setting up rules for a situation you do not yet comprehend. Stay here the night. Learn English, and perhaps another language. Learn about culture. Read journals. Heck: Watch TV. And see how you feel in the morning. You don't have to make any decisions right now." Superman takes another swig of water while waiting for the boy to give his opinion.

This seems to reassure Lor-Zod somewhat. "That makes sense. I will learn what you have asked, and then we can decide how to proceed from there. When I have learned of the English, would you prefer that I speak in that language instead of our native tongue?" He makes a mental note to ask the Fortress servitors about these "journals" and "TV."

"I prefer to speak English, but that's because I was raised in America. You'll find how you best like to communicate when you get things settled. My main worry for you right now is stress. You've had a heck of a day." Superman smiles at Lor, trying to be reassuring.

"Then I will seek to master English by tomorrow," Lor-Zod declares, "And begin learning to immerse myself in Earthling culture." He offers a somewhat odd, bland little smile at the mention of stress, adding quietly, "Kal-El, I appreciate your consideration, but I doubt Earth can be as 'stressful' as the Phantom Zone. Even so, I will do things as you ask. My father taught me to respect authority."

"Well, it shows, Lor-Zod." Superman smiles faintly, "I really should head back. You're okay sleeping here for the night? The droids can get you anything you need. And they can show you to the main guest quarters. I'll probably be back later this evening to check up on you and I'll probably end up staying here for a few days while you get acclimated."

Nodding, Lor-Zod says, "Thank you, Kal-El. You've been very kind and accepting, and I admit I did not expect that from the Son of Jor-El. Perhaps we will be fortunate and our fathers' quarrel will not affect us." From the words he chooses, one might assume he is speaking to an equal, but there's still that hesitation, reluctance -- this is still a young man talking to a visibly more confident and controlled adult, no matter how well-spoken the kid might be.

"Perhaps we will, Lor-Zod." Superman responds and rises, nodding to one of the servibots, "Please, get the young man anything he desires. Introduce him to Ice cream." Superman smiles, "The run of the joint is yours. Have fun, enjoy yourself. Learn a lot. And sleep well. I'll be here in the morning if you're asleep when I get back."

Standing, Lor-Zod raises a hand in a typical Kryptonian gesture of farewell, watching Superman depart. Once the Man of Steel has gone on about his business, Lor-Zod gives a small sigh, reaching up to scrub a hand across his face. He picks up the remains of his roll and another orange, then turns to regard the robots. "Greetings, Servitors of House El. I wish to be shown the language instruction materials. Also, please describe for me what is a 'Tee Vee.'"