[ The feel of kryptonite is still fresh, and there's none of it anywhere in the room he wakes up in. No wound, just a phantom ache. No hidden cameras or microphones. Clark pushes open the door, listening for anyone in the corridor, or in another room who might need help.
None of this feels real.
He can be found in the mansion itself or out in the grounds, examining everything. It's hard to be unimposing wearing a bright red cape, but Clark manages it, somehow, approaching those he meets with a polite smile. ]
Excuse me. What's keeping us here?
network — text.
I'd like to know more about Wonderland, specifically, if there's any pattern to who it brings here. I'd appreciate as much information as possible.
If you'd prefer to meet in person, I'll be at the cafe.
clark kent / dceu
network — text.