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roxyTitle: A Young Kryptonian's Travels Or, On The Tour
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Kal-El/OCs, Kal-El/Lex
Rating: PG to NC-17, eventually
Summary: A little bit of this, a little bit of that and stirred into a totally self-indulgent stew. This is just for fun! Also, this contains bits of nearly every SF story I've ever read. *G*
Part One : Rao Smiles
Jor-El left the Hall of Science in a good mood. So good a mood in fact that all day, he'd spontaneously burst into little snatches of song, to the point that his assistants began looking at him 'that way', especially when he'd whirled his secretary into an impromptu dance. He'd always been considered odd, so his staff simply endured his occasional outbursts of frivolity.
In fact, his particular branch of the El family had always been thought of as eccentric. The other branch were the ruling family of Krypton, not his branch, "The other Els" had always been prominent in the sciences. Holidays were always an interesting affair for the Els. Who else could get away with calling The Supreme Commander and Hammer of Justice his Royal Highness Kar-El, Shnoogie?
This especially fine day brought Jor-El so much pleasure because this day was the long hoped for day his beloved offspring, the marvelous fruit of his union, had shown himself to be pleasing to Rao in all ways, and was now a free man. He'd passed every exam at every quarter, excelled even. He passed all physical trials, all tests of intelligence, of esthetics, was deemed sufficiently within parameters of Kryptonian standards that he was finally considered worthy of Krypton society—he was at long last, a full member—a true Citizen of Krypton. Unlike those who'd failed in some way, lack of intelligence, lack of physical stamina, lack of beauty—all an insult to Rao, who graced every Kryptonian at birth with a perfect vessel with which to worship him. Those who failed were invited to join the House Of Sleep, where in a dream of all their most desired fantasies they passed beyond sleep, beyond the Dark Veil. Kryptonians were known for their compassion, even to those who failed to meet their standards.
They were known as compassionate beings on every one of the hundreds of planets that they'd conquered, and ruled with an iron fist. Compassionately, of course.
And now, their beloved Birdie had passed over the threshold into adulthood. What a joy for Lara-El and himself to finally be able to put aside forever clothes of mourning—they'd never have to entertain the frightening possibility that their little bird would have to be put down. He would now be able to add their little bird's name to the house, they now Jor-El, Lara-El and Kal-El, House of El.
Jor-El climbed aboard the public transport, smiling at one and all. A few inclined their heads but most ignored him. No matter. His joy was sufficient for everyone on the tube. His body servant, Frank, held bags filled with Kal-El's favorite drink, food, flowers and even clothing, everything he loved. Jor-El was thrilled to spoil him--he and Lara had never been able to keep the required emotional distance from Kal—no one in the family could. There was just something about him, something that reached out and captured hearts…'
Jor-El was jostled out of his thoughts by the shoving, pushing crowd of Citizens and workers as he exited the tube in their home court, flowers losing petals as Frank did his best to protect the bags.
"See, Frank? Wasn't it a lovely idea to take public transport? Get to know the people, Frank, interact with the common man. That's what keeps us humble and human, my friend."
Frank dodged an elderly Citizen tailed his struggling dogrobot, groaning under a towering pile of packages. "Asshole," the old man mumbled, as he elbowed Frank, and the dogrobot sneered at them, stuck his tongue out at Frank. It lolled out in a disconcerting way, and slurped back into it's mouth with a loud liquid smack.
Frank grimaced and "Yes, Gentle Sir," he muttered in reply. Jor-El wasn't the one carrying a thousand overstuffed bags.
"Homeward, Frank," he sang out. "Homeward to the House of El!"
Frank rolled his eyes and shifted the bags, tried to avoid looking at eye-wateringly bright clothing. "Yes, Sir. Home, Sir."
*****
Lara met him at the gateway, smiling wide, so excited that bright spots of red made her cheeks appear that much more inviting, her green eyes danced. "Oh, Birdie's going to be so happy!"
She rushed up and kissed his cheek, and patted it, before gesturing imperiously. "Frank, Frank, make sure you put the perishables in the preserver—and put the flowers on the dining room table, won't you."
"Yes, Madame, thank you," Frank dipped his head. "I do so much enjoy being told the obvious daily," he muttered, bowing deeply before he walked away.
They passed the house wall, and stopped in the doorway garden. The vines over the arbor that shaded the entrance grew so thickly the light there was faintly green, and the small flowers sprinkled through the runners perfumed the air and welcomed visitors to the El household. They stopped on the threshold and gave thanks for returning home safely before bustling inside.
With the help of their servants, they made short work of emptying the bags and setting up a beautiful meal for their beloved son in the open courtyard. The majority of their household servants were catrobots, well known for their grace and esthetic sense, and the couches draped with silk, and the tables covered with shimmering fabric and bowls of jewel bright fruit were as esthetically pleasing as the servants themselves. After all, every Citizen and worker learned from childhood, what was pleasing to the senses was pleasing to Rao.
Kal-El's parents looked about themselves critically, and satisfied, Jor-El called out for his son, "Birdie! Birdie! Come join your mother and me."
A pained howl made its way down to the garden level. "Mo-om! Make him stop!"
"Really dear," Lara-El scolded. "He is eighteen—a man, and no man likes to be called a child's name, after all."
Jor-El frowned and picked through the sliced fruits on a tray in front of him, chose a bright blue piece of fruit and shoved it in his mouth. "What's wrong with Birdie? Shnoogie doesn’t mind being called Shnoogie, and he's a grown man…and Emperor and Hammer of Justice and all those other titles the poor thing has to drag around…"
"Well, that's him." Her expression seemed to say, 'and you know he's a few loaves shy of a pastry shop.' With her thumb, she wiped blue juice from the corner of Jor's mouth. "You know sensitive Kal is." He rolled his eyes and snorted.
"Oh for—Kal-El! Come see what we have for you!" Typical of the El household, his brief flash of annoyance was gone; his smile was like the emergence of the sun after a brief summer squall. Lara smiled at him gently, pleased.
They both turned at the sound of footsteps on the stair, the sound of a stumble, of a large body hitting the wall, and an annoyed voice yelling "krell!" and then Birdie—Kal-El shouted, "Sorry, Mother—I'll buy you a new vase, promise."
Jor-El shrugged. "Let us thank great Rao profusely for our good fortune and question not His mysterious ways. The boy passed, that's all that matters. Vases and carpets and stair treads and furniture and good china can be replaced."
*Crash*
"And windows…"
******
Dinner was very nice. Kal-El was so happy that his parents were happy. He was hugely relieved that he'd never have to take another exam in his life, that he'd never again have to see the worried lost look in his parent's eyes—he was a Citizen finally—free and clear. And of course, totally and completely grateful to be alive….
He stood at the head of the table, and breathed in deeply—he savored the scent of his mother's flowers, the vines that circled the garden, the smell of earth and sun, the fruit and sweets waiting for them. He laughed out loud, arms spread and mouth wide. He deserved this joy. Now for the first time ever in his young life—he was free, safe—alive! After he received his personal shield, nothing could hurt him—not even his own astronomical clumsiness. He really was sorry about tripping over Frank like that….
He hugged and kissed his mother and his father and wished them a long and prosperous life and they experienced another first--they were able to wish him the same, and with tears in their eyes, they took great pleasure in doing so.
Wiping tears from his eyes, Jor took Kal by the shoulder. "Tomorrow, we'll take you to get your AI interface, and your personal field. What a wonderful day it will be," his father enthused. "The thrill of being fitted for your first field, to hear the great mind without anything between you and its wisdom--I envy you, Son."
Kal-El smiled and nodded and prayed to all-knowing Rao that Dad wasn't about to launch into one of his long meandering tales about his childhood, or the day he got his interface…and in answer to his prayer--All Thanks To Rao--just as Dad was winding up, Grand-dad came in.
Frank announced the General in a long suffering tone of voice, and was pushed stumbling to one side as the man descended on them. Grand-dad didn’t walk anywhere; he kind of sailed in like a hyperspace cruiser and conquered whatever space he entered.
"Kalo, Kal, my boy! Give your Grand-dad Kent a kiss and tell me—what next, young El? What service to Krypton have you chosen? Dare I hope you'll follow in your Grand's footsteps?"
Grand-dad was a big man, easily as big as Jor-El, and he had a full hair of crystal white hair, and eyes as bright and blue as the arctic sky. He was impressive, Grand-dad was, and Kal admired him, sometimes wanted to be like him. Sometimes. But wanting to be like Grand-dad didn't exempt him from teasing the man—it was an unfortunate genetic trait of the Els, or so his mother claimed. "I chose the sexwork field, Grand! I'm going to be a Greeter at the local Greeter's Hall. I've been practicing!"
Grand-dad paled somewhat, and Kal bit his lip, fought to keep from laughing out loud.
Ah, well…my boy, that's--that's…nice…I'm sure you'll be the very best Greeter--" his voice took on a strangled quality at that point, but he went on, "The best as befits the House of El. Oh dear," he muttered.
"Kal-El! Stop teasing at once!" His mother frowned. "Tell Grand-dad what you really plan to do, wicked boy."
Kal smiled, "I'm sorry Grand-dad. Actually, I want to take The Tour, and after—well, I have two applications—one for government work, and one for Justice Service. I hope that by the end of the Tour, I'll know which one to choose."
For a young man of Kal-El's social standing, government work meant serving at court, or taking over the running of one of his Gracious Majesty's many domains. And Justice Service wouldn't involve boot-camp, short rations and coffin sized quarters, not for the cousin of the emperor of Krypton and The Free Homeworlds of the Dominion. It meant at the least a command of his own, and a herd of battle tested slaves at his side. However, since he was the grandson of Lor-Van, Commander and Gracious Supreme Majesty's Hammer of Justice and many times over decorated wars hero, Kal had no doubt he'd start out on some freezing red-sunned mud-ball, orbs deep in shit….
"The Tour is a grand way for young men and women to see just how great is Krypton. You'll be able to see first hand the good we bring to our less fortunate members of the galaxy."
Grand-dad sat, held out a goblet and shook it. A young catrobot trotted over to fill it, bowing deeply. Kal felt just a twinge, a momentary feeling of strangeness. He'd played with the cat when he was young, it seemed wrong somehow, to sit here and let Rwrzft wait on them and practically insult him as he did. He knew what a smart guy he was, not to mention very pretty…he dropped his eyes and blushed hot and red, and shoved a few slices of fruit in his mouth. It was against the law for adults to 'socialize' with the 'robots'. Kal's lips turned down, a tiny moue of rebellion. It was a stupid law, Rwrzft was as human and warm blooded and stuff as he was—so what if he had a beautiful tail, and delicate retractable claws and the cutest hint of vestigial whiskers and big gold eyes with jet black slices of pupil that made Kal's blood hot on the rare occasion he looked directly into Kal's green eyes?
It wasn't right, that he was considered less than, just because he started embryonic life as a kitten, just because he was decanted from a different kind of vat than Kal was…he looked up again. Grand-dad was talking about Service, and Father was trying to keep his eyes open—Kal knew the feeling—and the catrobot boy was staring at him, in the way robots had, a look that never met the eyes but nevertheless…Kal felt the heat of his gaze.
Oh dear. If only. If only he could.
Rwrzft passed his chair and hidden by the table cloth, his tail briefly wrapped around Kal-El's ankle and slipped away.
tbc
part 2
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Kal-El/OCs, Kal-El/Lex
Rating: PG to NC-17, eventually
Summary: A little bit of this, a little bit of that and stirred into a totally self-indulgent stew. This is just for fun! Also, this contains bits of nearly every SF story I've ever read. *G*
Part One : Rao Smiles
Jor-El left the Hall of Science in a good mood. So good a mood in fact that all day, he'd spontaneously burst into little snatches of song, to the point that his assistants began looking at him 'that way', especially when he'd whirled his secretary into an impromptu dance. He'd always been considered odd, so his staff simply endured his occasional outbursts of frivolity.
In fact, his particular branch of the El family had always been thought of as eccentric. The other branch were the ruling family of Krypton, not his branch, "The other Els" had always been prominent in the sciences. Holidays were always an interesting affair for the Els. Who else could get away with calling The Supreme Commander and Hammer of Justice his Royal Highness Kar-El, Shnoogie?
This especially fine day brought Jor-El so much pleasure because this day was the long hoped for day his beloved offspring, the marvelous fruit of his union, had shown himself to be pleasing to Rao in all ways, and was now a free man. He'd passed every exam at every quarter, excelled even. He passed all physical trials, all tests of intelligence, of esthetics, was deemed sufficiently within parameters of Kryptonian standards that he was finally considered worthy of Krypton society—he was at long last, a full member—a true Citizen of Krypton. Unlike those who'd failed in some way, lack of intelligence, lack of physical stamina, lack of beauty—all an insult to Rao, who graced every Kryptonian at birth with a perfect vessel with which to worship him. Those who failed were invited to join the House Of Sleep, where in a dream of all their most desired fantasies they passed beyond sleep, beyond the Dark Veil. Kryptonians were known for their compassion, even to those who failed to meet their standards.
They were known as compassionate beings on every one of the hundreds of planets that they'd conquered, and ruled with an iron fist. Compassionately, of course.
And now, their beloved Birdie had passed over the threshold into adulthood. What a joy for Lara-El and himself to finally be able to put aside forever clothes of mourning—they'd never have to entertain the frightening possibility that their little bird would have to be put down. He would now be able to add their little bird's name to the house, they now Jor-El, Lara-El and Kal-El, House of El.
Jor-El climbed aboard the public transport, smiling at one and all. A few inclined their heads but most ignored him. No matter. His joy was sufficient for everyone on the tube. His body servant, Frank, held bags filled with Kal-El's favorite drink, food, flowers and even clothing, everything he loved. Jor-El was thrilled to spoil him--he and Lara had never been able to keep the required emotional distance from Kal—no one in the family could. There was just something about him, something that reached out and captured hearts…'
Jor-El was jostled out of his thoughts by the shoving, pushing crowd of Citizens and workers as he exited the tube in their home court, flowers losing petals as Frank did his best to protect the bags.
"See, Frank? Wasn't it a lovely idea to take public transport? Get to know the people, Frank, interact with the common man. That's what keeps us humble and human, my friend."
Frank dodged an elderly Citizen tailed his struggling dogrobot, groaning under a towering pile of packages. "Asshole," the old man mumbled, as he elbowed Frank, and the dogrobot sneered at them, stuck his tongue out at Frank. It lolled out in a disconcerting way, and slurped back into it's mouth with a loud liquid smack.
Frank grimaced and "Yes, Gentle Sir," he muttered in reply. Jor-El wasn't the one carrying a thousand overstuffed bags.
"Homeward, Frank," he sang out. "Homeward to the House of El!"
Frank rolled his eyes and shifted the bags, tried to avoid looking at eye-wateringly bright clothing. "Yes, Sir. Home, Sir."
*****
Lara met him at the gateway, smiling wide, so excited that bright spots of red made her cheeks appear that much more inviting, her green eyes danced. "Oh, Birdie's going to be so happy!"
She rushed up and kissed his cheek, and patted it, before gesturing imperiously. "Frank, Frank, make sure you put the perishables in the preserver—and put the flowers on the dining room table, won't you."
"Yes, Madame, thank you," Frank dipped his head. "I do so much enjoy being told the obvious daily," he muttered, bowing deeply before he walked away.
They passed the house wall, and stopped in the doorway garden. The vines over the arbor that shaded the entrance grew so thickly the light there was faintly green, and the small flowers sprinkled through the runners perfumed the air and welcomed visitors to the El household. They stopped on the threshold and gave thanks for returning home safely before bustling inside.
With the help of their servants, they made short work of emptying the bags and setting up a beautiful meal for their beloved son in the open courtyard. The majority of their household servants were catrobots, well known for their grace and esthetic sense, and the couches draped with silk, and the tables covered with shimmering fabric and bowls of jewel bright fruit were as esthetically pleasing as the servants themselves. After all, every Citizen and worker learned from childhood, what was pleasing to the senses was pleasing to Rao.
Kal-El's parents looked about themselves critically, and satisfied, Jor-El called out for his son, "Birdie! Birdie! Come join your mother and me."
A pained howl made its way down to the garden level. "Mo-om! Make him stop!"
"Really dear," Lara-El scolded. "He is eighteen—a man, and no man likes to be called a child's name, after all."
Jor-El frowned and picked through the sliced fruits on a tray in front of him, chose a bright blue piece of fruit and shoved it in his mouth. "What's wrong with Birdie? Shnoogie doesn’t mind being called Shnoogie, and he's a grown man…and Emperor and Hammer of Justice and all those other titles the poor thing has to drag around…"
"Well, that's him." Her expression seemed to say, 'and you know he's a few loaves shy of a pastry shop.' With her thumb, she wiped blue juice from the corner of Jor's mouth. "You know sensitive Kal is." He rolled his eyes and snorted.
"Oh for—Kal-El! Come see what we have for you!" Typical of the El household, his brief flash of annoyance was gone; his smile was like the emergence of the sun after a brief summer squall. Lara smiled at him gently, pleased.
They both turned at the sound of footsteps on the stair, the sound of a stumble, of a large body hitting the wall, and an annoyed voice yelling "krell!" and then Birdie—Kal-El shouted, "Sorry, Mother—I'll buy you a new vase, promise."
Jor-El shrugged. "Let us thank great Rao profusely for our good fortune and question not His mysterious ways. The boy passed, that's all that matters. Vases and carpets and stair treads and furniture and good china can be replaced."
*Crash*
"And windows…"
******
Dinner was very nice. Kal-El was so happy that his parents were happy. He was hugely relieved that he'd never have to take another exam in his life, that he'd never again have to see the worried lost look in his parent's eyes—he was a Citizen finally—free and clear. And of course, totally and completely grateful to be alive….
He stood at the head of the table, and breathed in deeply—he savored the scent of his mother's flowers, the vines that circled the garden, the smell of earth and sun, the fruit and sweets waiting for them. He laughed out loud, arms spread and mouth wide. He deserved this joy. Now for the first time ever in his young life—he was free, safe—alive! After he received his personal shield, nothing could hurt him—not even his own astronomical clumsiness. He really was sorry about tripping over Frank like that….
He hugged and kissed his mother and his father and wished them a long and prosperous life and they experienced another first--they were able to wish him the same, and with tears in their eyes, they took great pleasure in doing so.
Wiping tears from his eyes, Jor took Kal by the shoulder. "Tomorrow, we'll take you to get your AI interface, and your personal field. What a wonderful day it will be," his father enthused. "The thrill of being fitted for your first field, to hear the great mind without anything between you and its wisdom--I envy you, Son."
Kal-El smiled and nodded and prayed to all-knowing Rao that Dad wasn't about to launch into one of his long meandering tales about his childhood, or the day he got his interface…and in answer to his prayer--All Thanks To Rao--just as Dad was winding up, Grand-dad came in.
Frank announced the General in a long suffering tone of voice, and was pushed stumbling to one side as the man descended on them. Grand-dad didn’t walk anywhere; he kind of sailed in like a hyperspace cruiser and conquered whatever space he entered.
"Kalo, Kal, my boy! Give your Grand-dad Kent a kiss and tell me—what next, young El? What service to Krypton have you chosen? Dare I hope you'll follow in your Grand's footsteps?"
Grand-dad was a big man, easily as big as Jor-El, and he had a full hair of crystal white hair, and eyes as bright and blue as the arctic sky. He was impressive, Grand-dad was, and Kal admired him, sometimes wanted to be like him. Sometimes. But wanting to be like Grand-dad didn't exempt him from teasing the man—it was an unfortunate genetic trait of the Els, or so his mother claimed. "I chose the sexwork field, Grand! I'm going to be a Greeter at the local Greeter's Hall. I've been practicing!"
Grand-dad paled somewhat, and Kal bit his lip, fought to keep from laughing out loud.
Ah, well…my boy, that's--that's…nice…I'm sure you'll be the very best Greeter--" his voice took on a strangled quality at that point, but he went on, "The best as befits the House of El. Oh dear," he muttered.
"Kal-El! Stop teasing at once!" His mother frowned. "Tell Grand-dad what you really plan to do, wicked boy."
Kal smiled, "I'm sorry Grand-dad. Actually, I want to take The Tour, and after—well, I have two applications—one for government work, and one for Justice Service. I hope that by the end of the Tour, I'll know which one to choose."
For a young man of Kal-El's social standing, government work meant serving at court, or taking over the running of one of his Gracious Majesty's many domains. And Justice Service wouldn't involve boot-camp, short rations and coffin sized quarters, not for the cousin of the emperor of Krypton and The Free Homeworlds of the Dominion. It meant at the least a command of his own, and a herd of battle tested slaves at his side. However, since he was the grandson of Lor-Van, Commander and Gracious Supreme Majesty's Hammer of Justice and many times over decorated wars hero, Kal had no doubt he'd start out on some freezing red-sunned mud-ball, orbs deep in shit….
"The Tour is a grand way for young men and women to see just how great is Krypton. You'll be able to see first hand the good we bring to our less fortunate members of the galaxy."
Grand-dad sat, held out a goblet and shook it. A young catrobot trotted over to fill it, bowing deeply. Kal felt just a twinge, a momentary feeling of strangeness. He'd played with the cat when he was young, it seemed wrong somehow, to sit here and let Rwrzft wait on them and practically insult him as he did. He knew what a smart guy he was, not to mention very pretty…he dropped his eyes and blushed hot and red, and shoved a few slices of fruit in his mouth. It was against the law for adults to 'socialize' with the 'robots'. Kal's lips turned down, a tiny moue of rebellion. It was a stupid law, Rwrzft was as human and warm blooded and stuff as he was—so what if he had a beautiful tail, and delicate retractable claws and the cutest hint of vestigial whiskers and big gold eyes with jet black slices of pupil that made Kal's blood hot on the rare occasion he looked directly into Kal's green eyes?
It wasn't right, that he was considered less than, just because he started embryonic life as a kitten, just because he was decanted from a different kind of vat than Kal was…he looked up again. Grand-dad was talking about Service, and Father was trying to keep his eyes open—Kal knew the feeling—and the catrobot boy was staring at him, in the way robots had, a look that never met the eyes but nevertheless…Kal felt the heat of his gaze.
Oh dear. If only. If only he could.
Rwrzft passed his chair and hidden by the table cloth, his tail briefly wrapped around Kal-El's ankle and slipped away.
tbc
part 2
Tags:
(no subject)
6/13/07 12:39 pm (UTC)I, too, mourn that he was only teasing about sex work. He probable would have been good at it after a few nights instruction with a talented not-quite subjugated slave from Earth. Or even an informative liaison with a certain over priviledged businessman's son from that same planet.
But Kal and a catrobot?
What have you been snorting and are you willing to share??????!!!!!
(no subject)
6/13/07 10:14 pm (UTC)Hey, I *like* your ideas!!!!
(no subject)
6/15/07 03:26 am (UTC)