SV: The Lonely, 1/10
8/22/09 07:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle: The Lonely
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Kal/Lex
Rating: over all--R
Word Count: 1803
Spoilers: none
Summary: Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….
Notes/Warnings: language, tantrums, sexual situations …I don’t even have to warn you about M/M sex, right?
This is my failed Big Bang attempt. It's most definitely a WIP. I'm hoping to come up to a good finish--*koff*. I promise there will be an ending—even if they just get on a bus and go to the seashore….
1
"Lex Luthor, you stand convicted of the destruction of a member world of the Commonwealth, of crimes against the citizens of Earth, and by extension, crimes against the Commonwealth. Your sentence is being relayed to all its worlds; let it be known that whoever, or whatever world, conspires to help you, descends with you. You may speak."
Lex stood on the open platform, floating halfway up the tube ringed with thousands upon thousands of seats—all of the Representatives of the Commonwealth in attendance, all of them here to see the end of Lex Luthor, most hated man in history. Splashed across hundreds of thousands of screens across the Commonwealth Center, was the face of the man who altogether destroyed a planet, weeded out the dying and infected of his home planet, destroyed outposts--a man who committed genocide on a level unimaginable. He might have halted the progress of the Wandering Disease, but he did so at the cost of millions of lives. At least, those were the charges leveled against him. That they wouldn't understand that the loss of millions was necessary in order to save billions upon billions, that the destroyed planet was the source of disease, was something Lex couldn't change. He could only accept their verdict.
Lex stood straight, his manacled hands before him. He looked totally at ease in the bright green jumpsuit he wore, despite the faded yellow bruises painting one side of his face. He smiled. "Let me thank you first for your hospitality, it's good to know that some of you haven't lost the old arts." A slight tremor made one leg of the suit crinkle. "Not that I'm suggesting at all that torture was involved. We know that such a thing has been outlawed on all worlds of the Commonwealth. And at any rate, I freely admit that I committed the crime I have been found guilty of."
He looked at the tiers of beings, magnified on the bank of screens lining the upper levels of the Hall, all of their visages set in various expressions of hatred, disgust. When he blinked, he thought perhaps he'd seen one set in deep disappointment as well. Lex sneered, knowing the cameras would record and project the look to all worlds, that it would be the look that would be immortalized for all time. A look that would be taken as the essence of Lex Luthor.
~~oOo~~
Lex gazed up at the men in front of him. They were in secret chambers now. This was the real thing, not the costumed farce put on for the great unwashed. This was his sentence.
"Lex…we're really undecided as to what to do to you. There are so many options. Death, of course, the best. But you present so many interesting avenues. Take you apart in increments; make you an interesting test subject…" Lex laughed along with his judges—his hangmen.
"You could, yes. But after what I've done for you, after taking the entire blame for the incidents…" An astonished buzz of sound ran through the gathered beings. He smiled and enjoyed a small spike of satisfaction, knowing that he could shock even these men.
"Incidents, Lex? Really? Well….." The Commonwealth's spokesbeing took a few long moments to examine Lex, and then, nodded. "There is a transporting device…a new and wonderful technology recently discovered—well, new to us. It's old, how old we're not certain. Its existence is very much a secret," the being smiled. "No one, not even Superman, knows about it. So far we've only managed to arrive at one destination, but you know…for a man with an ego like yours, a world of his own might just be the ticket. You will finally be ruler of all you see, for an eternity—it simply won’t be here."
"I'll be back," Lex smiled. He'd find a way, he always did.
~~oOo~~
"We'll be back in six months with supplies, Lex. Make yourself comfortable until then."
Lex was standing in a large ring of boxes of various sizes, made of a plastic-like material. Supplies, he imagined. At least he wouldn’t have to reinvent the ax.
"Everything you need to stay alive is in these crates. Luck. Take care."
Lex looked around himself. There was miles and miles of red and tan sand, and everywhere, tough-looking scrubby plants and rocks dotted the landscape. Here and there were outcropping of rock spires, in the distance what looked like mountains…and nothing else for miles. Already he could feel the sun, burning him, feel sweat start to run. The uniformed men jogged away, back to a low platform that was the only man-made feature in this desert. They stepped up and shimmered out of existence. Curiosity led him to turn back to the platform. He reached out and—he was several feet away, facing the boxes and not the platform. Logic told him that the same thing would happen any time he tried to mount the platform. He shrugged. Idiocy was not a flaw of his.
So. He was here, he was trapped, he was alone. Lex laughed. Fuck them. They had no idea. He weathered worse than this in his life—and he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't alone.
By the time the sun set, it was as cold as it had been hot. He shivered, waiting for the small heating unit he'd found in one of the boxes start to work. He wrapped himself in one of the blanket he's found, and hoped that one of those boxes held the material to make a shelter. The box he'd managed to empty before the sun had set was split open and made a mat under him. He hoped fervently that he'd been told the truth when they said there were no predators sharing this place with him, or at least that he wasn't recognizable as a potential food source….
A loud inhuman shriek split the air, mocked Lex's concern. Well…it could be anything he thought, but better prepared than not. He managed to crack one of the packing crates open against a rock—split, it had a pretty decent edge. If whatever it was had skin as soft as his, the shard would pierce it. He sat up in the dark, the shard in his hand and his eyes trained on the spot he expected the sun to rise.
~~oOo~~
He woke slumped slightly to the side, his body a comma of aching pain, the shard still clutched in his hand. The plastic under him was already warming….
He opened crate after crate, pulling out supplies. He pulled out and set up a water purifier. It made him smile. Wonderful. He'd be able to drink his own piss. First order of business—find water.
He found a suitable pair of boots in a crate containing clothing. He called it clothing because it was meant to be worn, no doubt. It was…ugly in the extreme, as if it had been designed specifically to assault his sensibilities. He unloaded trousers and shirts and underclothing, complaining bitterly about each item at the top of his lungs and suddenly…stopped. And began laughing. He laughed until tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He dropped to the ground with a whoosh of exhaled air. "Really, just *who* are you dressing for? And just what did you expect? Silk underwear? Cashmere socks? You're a *prisoner*. You're serving out a life sentence on a dirty rock God knows where and you're complaining about your wardrobe." He shook his head, and after a bit, stood again. There were a few hats in the bottom of the crate. He pulled a cap on. Fortunately they hadn't included a mirror.
He balled up the green jumpsuit he'd been wearing for what felt like an eternity, and set it to the side. He might need it again. His jailors were kind enough to stamp each item of clothing with a symbol of the Commonwealth's Justice Council. It wouldn't do to forget why he was there.
The morning turned hotter as the sun rose, but not so hot he couldn't function…it remained at the edge of discomfort. Fine. They didn't plan to torture him to death…at least not quickly.
By evening, he discovered a series of boxes containing a shelter. Intriguing. He was to assemble his own shelter—a sort jumbo crafts project designed to keep the inmate from sharpening his spork and driving it into his throat. All right. He looked up towards an outcropping of rocks. He'd have to search out a better place to set up camp...figure out a way to move this generous assortment of containers.
~~oOo~~
He'd been walking for a while now, carefully noting the direction, keeping track of the way back. He could feel a slight change in the air, heard a burbling noise, and smiled.
Water. Hopefully.
He climbed a slight rise and there it was below him, water flowing through rocks, dropping into a small stream with high banks. Perfect. He could drink, bathe…and just like that, the heavens tore open, and rain—torrents of rain—roared out of the sky. He was startled, almost afraid. He couldn't see through the roaring grey wall, he was finding it difficult to stand, and he slowly became afraid of drowning where he stood.
He raced as quickly as he could through the pounding rain for a tumbled pile of rocks—with any luck, there might be shelter there. And hell yes, he was going to be lucky—by this point surely he'd gone right through bad luck and back into good?
There was a cave tucked into the rocks, small, the ceiling barely high enough to let him stand but—it was shelter. He lay back against the warm rock walls and panted for breath…damn it. Shelter just moved to the top of his list. If there were going to be downpours like this out of nowhere, than yes, shelter was his first priority.
He looked out at the grey curtain roiling at the entrance. It made no sense. There was no indication of flash flooding here—no sign the stream grew wider or higher, and he was fairly certain that torrential water left some sort of sign, on the ground, and on rocks, and he'd seen nothing he could recognize. The supplies he'd unearthed so far seemed to indicate his captors—pardon, jailors—expected this place to be arid, desert. He smirked. Well, it looked like someone cocked up here. Perhaps their mistakes could be turned to his benefit…and then, the weird, unearthly howl of the night before split the skies, and he was reminded of how they'd assured him that the native life were small, retiring herbivores, that the most active and fearsome predator was an aardvark-like insectivore…and all confidence in that bled away. He'd probably been right to arm himself. Fuck. He hoped sincerely something in those crates would be make a practical weapon.
~~oOo~~
Part two
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Kal/Lex
Rating: over all--R
Word Count: 1803
Spoilers: none
Summary: Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….
Notes/Warnings: language, tantrums, sexual situations …I don’t even have to warn you about M/M sex, right?
This is my failed Big Bang attempt. It's most definitely a WIP. I'm hoping to come up to a good finish--*koff*. I promise there will be an ending—even if they just get on a bus and go to the seashore….
1
"Lex Luthor, you stand convicted of the destruction of a member world of the Commonwealth, of crimes against the citizens of Earth, and by extension, crimes against the Commonwealth. Your sentence is being relayed to all its worlds; let it be known that whoever, or whatever world, conspires to help you, descends with you. You may speak."
Lex stood on the open platform, floating halfway up the tube ringed with thousands upon thousands of seats—all of the Representatives of the Commonwealth in attendance, all of them here to see the end of Lex Luthor, most hated man in history. Splashed across hundreds of thousands of screens across the Commonwealth Center, was the face of the man who altogether destroyed a planet, weeded out the dying and infected of his home planet, destroyed outposts--a man who committed genocide on a level unimaginable. He might have halted the progress of the Wandering Disease, but he did so at the cost of millions of lives. At least, those were the charges leveled against him. That they wouldn't understand that the loss of millions was necessary in order to save billions upon billions, that the destroyed planet was the source of disease, was something Lex couldn't change. He could only accept their verdict.
Lex stood straight, his manacled hands before him. He looked totally at ease in the bright green jumpsuit he wore, despite the faded yellow bruises painting one side of his face. He smiled. "Let me thank you first for your hospitality, it's good to know that some of you haven't lost the old arts." A slight tremor made one leg of the suit crinkle. "Not that I'm suggesting at all that torture was involved. We know that such a thing has been outlawed on all worlds of the Commonwealth. And at any rate, I freely admit that I committed the crime I have been found guilty of."
He looked at the tiers of beings, magnified on the bank of screens lining the upper levels of the Hall, all of their visages set in various expressions of hatred, disgust. When he blinked, he thought perhaps he'd seen one set in deep disappointment as well. Lex sneered, knowing the cameras would record and project the look to all worlds, that it would be the look that would be immortalized for all time. A look that would be taken as the essence of Lex Luthor.
Lex gazed up at the men in front of him. They were in secret chambers now. This was the real thing, not the costumed farce put on for the great unwashed. This was his sentence.
"Lex…we're really undecided as to what to do to you. There are so many options. Death, of course, the best. But you present so many interesting avenues. Take you apart in increments; make you an interesting test subject…" Lex laughed along with his judges—his hangmen.
"You could, yes. But after what I've done for you, after taking the entire blame for the incidents…" An astonished buzz of sound ran through the gathered beings. He smiled and enjoyed a small spike of satisfaction, knowing that he could shock even these men.
"Incidents, Lex? Really? Well….." The Commonwealth's spokesbeing took a few long moments to examine Lex, and then, nodded. "There is a transporting device…a new and wonderful technology recently discovered—well, new to us. It's old, how old we're not certain. Its existence is very much a secret," the being smiled. "No one, not even Superman, knows about it. So far we've only managed to arrive at one destination, but you know…for a man with an ego like yours, a world of his own might just be the ticket. You will finally be ruler of all you see, for an eternity—it simply won’t be here."
"I'll be back," Lex smiled. He'd find a way, he always did.
"We'll be back in six months with supplies, Lex. Make yourself comfortable until then."
Lex was standing in a large ring of boxes of various sizes, made of a plastic-like material. Supplies, he imagined. At least he wouldn’t have to reinvent the ax.
"Everything you need to stay alive is in these crates. Luck. Take care."
Lex looked around himself. There was miles and miles of red and tan sand, and everywhere, tough-looking scrubby plants and rocks dotted the landscape. Here and there were outcropping of rock spires, in the distance what looked like mountains…and nothing else for miles. Already he could feel the sun, burning him, feel sweat start to run. The uniformed men jogged away, back to a low platform that was the only man-made feature in this desert. They stepped up and shimmered out of existence. Curiosity led him to turn back to the platform. He reached out and—he was several feet away, facing the boxes and not the platform. Logic told him that the same thing would happen any time he tried to mount the platform. He shrugged. Idiocy was not a flaw of his.
So. He was here, he was trapped, he was alone. Lex laughed. Fuck them. They had no idea. He weathered worse than this in his life—and he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't alone.
By the time the sun set, it was as cold as it had been hot. He shivered, waiting for the small heating unit he'd found in one of the boxes start to work. He wrapped himself in one of the blanket he's found, and hoped that one of those boxes held the material to make a shelter. The box he'd managed to empty before the sun had set was split open and made a mat under him. He hoped fervently that he'd been told the truth when they said there were no predators sharing this place with him, or at least that he wasn't recognizable as a potential food source….
A loud inhuman shriek split the air, mocked Lex's concern. Well…it could be anything he thought, but better prepared than not. He managed to crack one of the packing crates open against a rock—split, it had a pretty decent edge. If whatever it was had skin as soft as his, the shard would pierce it. He sat up in the dark, the shard in his hand and his eyes trained on the spot he expected the sun to rise.
He woke slumped slightly to the side, his body a comma of aching pain, the shard still clutched in his hand. The plastic under him was already warming….
He opened crate after crate, pulling out supplies. He pulled out and set up a water purifier. It made him smile. Wonderful. He'd be able to drink his own piss. First order of business—find water.
He found a suitable pair of boots in a crate containing clothing. He called it clothing because it was meant to be worn, no doubt. It was…ugly in the extreme, as if it had been designed specifically to assault his sensibilities. He unloaded trousers and shirts and underclothing, complaining bitterly about each item at the top of his lungs and suddenly…stopped. And began laughing. He laughed until tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He dropped to the ground with a whoosh of exhaled air. "Really, just *who* are you dressing for? And just what did you expect? Silk underwear? Cashmere socks? You're a *prisoner*. You're serving out a life sentence on a dirty rock God knows where and you're complaining about your wardrobe." He shook his head, and after a bit, stood again. There were a few hats in the bottom of the crate. He pulled a cap on. Fortunately they hadn't included a mirror.
He balled up the green jumpsuit he'd been wearing for what felt like an eternity, and set it to the side. He might need it again. His jailors were kind enough to stamp each item of clothing with a symbol of the Commonwealth's Justice Council. It wouldn't do to forget why he was there.
The morning turned hotter as the sun rose, but not so hot he couldn't function…it remained at the edge of discomfort. Fine. They didn't plan to torture him to death…at least not quickly.
By evening, he discovered a series of boxes containing a shelter. Intriguing. He was to assemble his own shelter—a sort jumbo crafts project designed to keep the inmate from sharpening his spork and driving it into his throat. All right. He looked up towards an outcropping of rocks. He'd have to search out a better place to set up camp...figure out a way to move this generous assortment of containers.
He'd been walking for a while now, carefully noting the direction, keeping track of the way back. He could feel a slight change in the air, heard a burbling noise, and smiled.
Water. Hopefully.
He climbed a slight rise and there it was below him, water flowing through rocks, dropping into a small stream with high banks. Perfect. He could drink, bathe…and just like that, the heavens tore open, and rain—torrents of rain—roared out of the sky. He was startled, almost afraid. He couldn't see through the roaring grey wall, he was finding it difficult to stand, and he slowly became afraid of drowning where he stood.
He raced as quickly as he could through the pounding rain for a tumbled pile of rocks—with any luck, there might be shelter there. And hell yes, he was going to be lucky—by this point surely he'd gone right through bad luck and back into good?
There was a cave tucked into the rocks, small, the ceiling barely high enough to let him stand but—it was shelter. He lay back against the warm rock walls and panted for breath…damn it. Shelter just moved to the top of his list. If there were going to be downpours like this out of nowhere, than yes, shelter was his first priority.
He looked out at the grey curtain roiling at the entrance. It made no sense. There was no indication of flash flooding here—no sign the stream grew wider or higher, and he was fairly certain that torrential water left some sort of sign, on the ground, and on rocks, and he'd seen nothing he could recognize. The supplies he'd unearthed so far seemed to indicate his captors—pardon, jailors—expected this place to be arid, desert. He smirked. Well, it looked like someone cocked up here. Perhaps their mistakes could be turned to his benefit…and then, the weird, unearthly howl of the night before split the skies, and he was reminded of how they'd assured him that the native life were small, retiring herbivores, that the most active and fearsome predator was an aardvark-like insectivore…and all confidence in that bled away. He'd probably been right to arm himself. Fuck. He hoped sincerely something in those crates would be make a practical weapon.
Part two
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