Post by Wonder Woman on Sept 26, 2015 15:15:39 GMT -5
Mercy Graves: "Are you sure?" Her voice was crisp, cold and eerily calm.
"Fairly certain, ma'am," the young man with the build of a boxer in a business suit said, standing uncomfortably at ease, his hands folded in front of him. "The body was mostly decompossed, but we were able to obtain most of the skull. His dental records were an all but perfect match. It appeared the remains had a few teeth missing but they were consistent with the injuries he may have received during the crash."
As he spoke Mercy Graves, acting CEO of LexCorp took a sip from her glass, feeling the warmth of the amber whiskey flow over her tongue and slide down her throat. The breath she had drew Iin, inhaling the subtle scents of the whiskey, was let out slowly as her gray green eyes watched the clouds over Metropolis.
"The skull showed signs of a healed fracture across his orbital bone, along the side of his head, consistent with Mister Luthor's car accident as a young man," he continued to report, standing awkwardly.
Mercy remembered that; it was one of the last times he had driven himself. Not that he was a bad driver, but as with most geniuses, his mind had a habit of drifting. This occassion it drifted while driving a Mercedes MacLaren. The car was a write off and Lex was in a coma for a week. It was the first time she ran his company for him, wrestling decisions away through sheer determination from board members who would have gone against his wishes.
It was the second time she impressed him with her daring and wits, but far from the last.
The silence stretched between the two and Mercy let her eyes close, feeling the discomfort rising from the fidgeting body guard. "You're dismissed," she said easily, tipping the rest of the drink into her mouth, listening for the sound of the heavy office door to shut and lock behind him, all the while letting the burn spread across her mouth.
She drew a deep breath and swallowed down the liquor, and with it the emotions that were mixing inside of her as she heard the latch click letting her know the door was indeed closed and locked and she was alone with her thoughts.
Lex was dead, she thought, spinning the large wing backed chair, the large wing backed chair that had once been his, around so she could sit and face the city. It had once been his, and now it was thrust on her, along with his company. She had done well when she thought it was only a temporary stop gap, that Luthor would return triumphant from whatever tropical paradise he had run off to but now...
She was getting that numb feeling in her face as she slumped into the chair and a very un-Mercy like posture. Her nose and lips began to tingle with the sensation because blood is driven elsewhere in the body, required by more important, life bringing systems to comprehend the situation, her knees together, feet at an angle inside their ludicrously priced high heeled shoes. The empty glass remained in her hand, the chill, smooth reminder that she had a drink now abandoned.
Lex was dead.
She had much to do, lawyers to call, a will to assess, she was the executor of the estate and would thus have to take care of the dispersal. She rubbed the small piece of silver that hung around her neck. It was inset with a green stone most mistook for emerald, but it wasn't. Not even close. Lex had given it to her after her mother died, a symbol that he would protect her so long as she remained loyal to him.
She chewed the inside of the her cheek, something she had always done when nervous or deep in thought. Bringing the empty glass to her lips for a sip she was met only with the slivered remains of ice.
"Damn," she frowned into the muddled surface of the watery remains at the bottom of her crystal, generous mouth pulling into a red slash, turning down at the corners.
Graves stood up and refilled her glass, taking the bottle with her as she wandered away from the wet bar. She was in Lex's office, her office, which was part of the complex of passage ways that had allowed her and Luthor to access anything on this floor and the three above them, the upper most of which comprised his penthouse, her own condo just below.
This was fortuitous, as she was able to take a private elevator to the roof. While waiting for the elevator to rise she finished her drink, pouring herself a third when the door opened. The roof top was a garden, used to host parties and fancy dress galas for the various foundations funded by Lex and now Mercy.
Her stilettos clicked along the tiles of the stone walk way, echoing over the roar of wind some fifty stories up, thumping in the same stillness of her heart beat as she poured her fourth drink. "Well, I hope you're fucking happy Superman," she said bitterly, raising her glass to the empty night sky. "You finally fucking won."
She tossed back the liquor and no longer even felt the burn, though her lips pulled into the typical sneer that one made when taking a shot of whisky. "WELL!?" she screamed into the blackness. "Are you!?"
Superman: This night had been a night of shock, relief, guilt and all rolled into one. He’d heard of Lex’s death, how could he not? The name Lex Luthor was one under Superman’s constant suspicion and he kept a close ear for it. When he first heard the news, undeniable proof, he couldn’t believe it. Lex was a lot of things, a former friend, a failed redemption, an adversary, despite all that, Clark had never wished him dead, then why had a brief moment of relief washed over him at the news? It was human, he expected, to learn that there was one less worry in the world, but he felt alien, guilty for having ever let the feeling touch him. Lex was a person, he was a human being, while he had a lot to answer for, Clark was a symbol, a beacon, a message that was simple ‘There is always hope.’ For that to be true, it had to be applied to everyone, especially those that had gone astray. Superman and Lex had a history, Clark often wondered how he didn’t hate the man, but he hadn’t, he’d pitied him, never understood, taunted, and then finding out there was a being out there that rivaled his superiority, the weight of all he accomplished and all he would never accomplished had broken the man. Now, he was dead and Clark had no idea what to feel, sad for the loss of life, the loss of a friend? Regret for things unsaid and misunderstandings unresolved? At peace with the idea that his own choices were responsible for his fate? It was a confusing time. Then, through the closed window of his apartment, he heard the words, a slew of curses sent into the night sky, sent to him. He didn’t have to focus, he knew where they were coming from and whom. His most loyal ally, his only friend, if that’s what they were, Mercy Graves.
Dressed in a heartbeat, the man of steel had taken to the skies, watching the woman, intoxicated by the liquor he could smell at a distance and her own blinding rage. Was it wise, to show his face now? No, it was foolish and naive to think he could console her, to hope that she could be consoled, but that’s what Superman was, wasn’t it? Hope, that impossible things came to pass. His jaw set, the Man of Steel made his way to the roof of LexCorp's main office, taking a position on the opposite side, he approached slowly and without attempting to hide his presence. “It’s dangerous for you up here, Miss Graves, winds gusts are violent and your footing is...compromised.” How did you speak to someone that hated your guts? Friends, victims, villains, he understood, but he wasn’t here to serve justice, he was here to offer a hand, a compassionate gesture, to explain himself. He knew he didn’t need defending, the logical part of his brain told him that she knew, deep deep down, what Lex had been, but love had a way of blinding people to their truths. “I’m sorry for your loss and no, I had hope for Lex, to hear that he is no longer with us...it’s a shock.” Distance was kept, she was grieving, angry, drunk, a bad combination to be sure, but Superman had a responsibility to help all the world's inhabitants and Superman imagined, Mercy had very few people to grieve with her.
Mercy Graves: The blonde woman heard the wicked whipping of the cape before he spoke and turned around suddenly, her sharp eyes filled with anger and a vile hatred that traveled even in the darkness. Without speaking she threw her empty rocks glass at him, the attack surprisingly accurate given the distance, the wind and the fact that she was drunk. The glass would shatter harmlessly across his shoulder, offering not so much as even nick in his costume, but it did make her feel somewhat better.
"This is all your fault," she shouted at him, having still not quite given in to tears, though they were certainly brewing in her slender frame. "He was obsessed with you! With beating you. Proving he was better than you, even though he was already," she let out words that perhaps were too true, too hurtful to herself, to have been whispered while sober. "All he wanted to do was protect his city!"
Being presented with Superman with the wounds so fresh was a chance to let her anger out, to use him as a wailing wall. Her heart ached, and her body registered a cold feeling, though with eight plus ounces of whiskey in her system it was unlikely caused by the weather but rather the feeling of loss that she experiencing. Lex had been her world for the last ten years. She sank to her knees, the thin silk of her stockings tearing against the rough cement of the roof path tiles. She still held the bottle of whiskey in her left hand.
Those grey-green eyes looked up at Superman, the shining, iconic and godlike representation of everything "good" in Metropolis and spoke with a very chilling, cold tone. "And now who is going to protect Metropolis?"
Superman: She was beyond upset, inconsolable was the proper word for her current emotional position, still, never give up. Without Lex whispering in her ear, without his own darkness seeping over her, perhaps she could see a different path. “I’d have saved Lex if I could have, somewhere, you know that.” He stepped closer, his body lowering itself to the ground, the shattered class couldn’t hurt him but it was an emotional blow. She really hated him, it wasn’t that he hadn’t felt that feeling before, but, it wasn’t something that came easily to him. “Lex did his best to keep his every move from me, I can’t save someone that doesn’t want to be, Miss Graves.” Despite the intimate nature of the conversation, Superman was sure they were not on a first name basis. His opportunity, perhaps a chance to let her see. “We could protect Metropolis.” He wasn’t trying to manipulate her, that wasn’t his way, his voice, his eyes, showed every bit of honesty. “I see all the good we could do together, if we just stopped working against each other.”
He hoped his words got through, he hoped with his being, that she could see the rationale in his thoughts. “Lex wanted to be the world’s savior, I want the same thing. Power corrupted the man, Miss Graves, jealousy and power took one of mankind's greatest minds and set it down the wrong path, I beg you, don’t repeat his mistakes. I will always be here, I will protect Metropolis, but, I’d like to do it with your help.” He was extending a hand, a chance, for two of the world’s greatest rivals to become one of the world’s greatest teams. With LexCorp resources, so much good could be done, all Mercy had to do was let it. They were friends once, Clark and Lex, he couldn’t tell her that, it would get her too close to who he was, even though Lex had all but erased any trace of his time in Smallville, Mercy was, above all, resourceful. Still, it didn’t stop Clark from missing the man he once called his friend.
Mercy Graves: She watched as he stepped towards her, despite her thousand dollar suit and seven hundred dollar shoes, the expensive pearls in her ears and the business woman hair do, she looked lost, almost child like. Her eyes were large, round and looked up at him almost helplessly as he stepped towards her. The generous curve of her mouth was pinched, almost into an impetuious pouting gesture, lending even more so to the sense of child likeness in her bearing.
She listened to his offer. An olive branch. A promise that he would have saved Lex if only he could, as if she was some stupid little dillitante, one of the millions who believed that Superman was entirely benevolent. Mercy was not so naive; no one was pure good. There was always something that could corrupt a man, even superman.
Her heart was beating a mile a minute, painfully in her chest as he stepped even closer. "Lex wasn't corrupted by power; he was corrupted by you," she shot back. "Your presence made it impossible for him to relax, for him to relent; so long as you existed anything he did would only be second best because you existed." She paused for a moment, rising to her feet, drunk body allowing her to ignore the burning senseation in her skinned knees as she took a shakey step forward. "You! You who never had to work for anything, who never had to suffer, or sacrifice for your gifts," she accused him. "You lost your family? Who hasn't!?" she shot back, the anger coming back. "You can fail and still they love you! You have unblinking support! You and those jack booted thugs in your super friends group. Wonder Woman? Batman? Green Lantern? Who chose these people to be our saviours? Who vetted you!?" she screamed, taking a heavy swig from the bottle in her hand.
When he said that they could protect the city, together, she laughed. It was a bitter, dry and acrid sound, one filled with derision and sarcasm. She took another long pull from the bottle as she swaggered towards him, standing almost in his face with her six inch heels. The eyes that met his were as impenetrable as his own skin, and cold as the tundra home of the Fortress of Solitude. When she spoke, her voice matched the chill in her eyes, and she said only six simple words: "And who protects us from you?"
Superman: She continued on, hammering after him, demanding that he justify his position. It was true, in a certain light, calling yourself the savior of humanity took a lot of self-confidence, bordering on the line between confident and arrogant, but that wasn’t what how he saw himself. He had seen the potential this world had to offer and that is what he vowed to save, to protect,to offer, the hope for a brighter future, a better tomorrow. For her to attack him, to compare him to the man Lex had become, obviously she made a habit of diluting herself. “Who vetted me? This is not a position one is elected to, it’s not some title that allows you to sit on top of the world and be obeyed. That’s what Lex didn’t understand, what you obviously don’t understand. You do not become Superman for the power it gives you become Superman because you have the power to serve.” To take the fight to those that would disregard all that was right and to show them a better path. “We all have darkness inside us, Miss Graves, it pushes and pulls us into terrible things. Should my own ever rise up, those ‘jack booted thugs’ they will stop me. That is what we do, we protect those in need. Lex was a powerful man, a genius, without a question but that does not excuse him stepping on everyone he had to step on to get what he wanted. He started as a man with a dream and became a monster in need of recognition. That, his own pride, is why he could not do what needed be done.” His own anger flaring slightly before he quickly reigned it in. This was not what he came here for. He clenched his fiist and then he felt it, a sharp jab of pain in his palm. Blood spilled from the wound and he looked it curiously, a shard of glass left from the glass she threw at him, now puncturing his hand. “What…?”
Mercy Graves: She listened to him and was ready to shoot back, ready to smash the bottle in her hand against him. "You have everything," she said, her voice cracking. He kept defending himself, defending his friends. "And if you went rogue, not even that Amazon could stop you, and even if they were able to, they'd level an entire city in trying to get it!" she shot back. It was true; even while they "defended" freedom and justice, as they saw it mind you, the Justice League had cost trillions of dollars worth of damage to Metropolis alone, never mind what Batman and his kind had caused in Gotham, or the potential for international crisis caused by the two monarchs. Atlantis and Themyscira were martial peoples, each able to defend themselves against the best the Justice League could throw at them seperately; Heaven help the world if Amazons and Atlantians ever found common cause against humans. She saw the anger flare into his eyes and she narrowed her own. C'mon, she thought to herself in her drunken state. Hit me. Fucking hit me, end it! And then she saw the open hand and was as dumb struck as him.
Superman: “The damage….” He began, his throat was dry, suddenly and his legs did not feel as strong as they once did. Still, he’d come for peace, he’d been hurt worse, he was sure she hadn’t meant to cut him, maybe she had wanted to, but when she threw the glass, some part of her knew it wouldn’t hurt him, such open attacks were rarely her or Lex’s way. Then again Lex was gone and it was just he and Mercy on the roof and this much open honesty wasn’t exactly her style either. “Was...this one of his tricks?” Confusion laced his face as he fell to one knee, his hand catching him, it crept up slow, but the longer her stood, the weaker he got. His eyes searched, looking for the slightly glowing rock that normally caused these effects, even long distance radiation could have played a part, draining him of the sun's energy and with the sun on the other side of the world at the moment, he didn’t need to collapse in front of her, not now. He focused, willing himself back to his feet before staggering backwards and using a nearby air conditioning unit to hold himself upright. His eyes scanned her, looking for the source of the sudden small throb in his temple. “What have you done?” He should have known better, how could he have been so naive? He’d heard a person cry out in pain, he knew the pain of lost, he wanted to come, wanted to mend fences, if it were possible. Superman had always felt that Mercy had loved Lex more than she’d hated Superman, perhaps his intuition was wrong, perhaps she’d loved Lex because they hated Superman and this had been her plan from the beginning.” With a bit of himself coming back to himself, he stood straighter, clearing his parched throat before he removed the glass from his hand and pressed it to his thigh, his accelerated healing was slowed, but not gone and the cut began to heal. Poison? Kryptonite in the glass perhaps? No, he’d seen her drink from it, she wouldn’t imbibe radioactive material, Lex had never known if Kryptonite was completely harmless to human’s, Mercy would have known not to take that risk.
Mercy Graves: It took Mercy of while to realize what was going on. To say it was unintentional was an understatement. She knew what her necklace was made out of, but neither her nor Lex had anticipated that such a small piece, no larger than a finger nail, would be effective against him at a distance. Good to know, she thought to herself, her free hand rising to her neck, the stone visible in its silver setting against her pale skin, catching the moonlight as the clouds drifted lazily over the city.
"No tricks," she said, her voice even, more the way he was used to hearing her, not that he was used to hearing her as Superman, of course, but Clark Kent would have attended many press conferences since she became acting CEO of LexCorp. "Just biology," she said, setting the bottle down on a side table. Mercy was still very much drunk, and very angry. She had no intent on throwing her advantage away by leaving his vicinity, though.
He could suppose her motivations, and they were somewhat true. She loved Lex, even if he didn't love her back, or didn't love her in the same way, and regardless of what he said, she would blame Superman quite gracefully for Lex's fall from grace, his descent into madness and his untimely death.
"What have I done?" she said, her voice cracking as she temporarily lost her grip again, the beast of a man regaining himself, forcing himself to his feet. On one level, the refusal to stay down could be respected by Mercy, however, in light of everything else, she wouldn't be commenting. "I've raised families out of poverty! Including myself! I've rebuilt schools and hospitals -you- destroyed! I've cleaned up your financial messes all over this city! Funded clean up efforts and backed the charities that home those made homeless when you and your "hero" friends bring -your- fights to -my- city! And yet you as me what I've done?" She narrowed her eyes. "You haven't begun to see what I can do, Superman."
Superman:“You’re shading the truth and you know it. The Justice League always works to keep civilian casualties to a minimum in times of crisis. We have never once brought a fight here, to -our- city. Fights come, people, those obsessed with power, like Lex, seek us out to prove they are better or that we are inferior, how many people has your company killed while Lex tried to show the world I couldn’t protect it? How much damage have you wrought on this path for dominance?” He’d backed up a few more feet before he continued, Kryptonite, it was an odd thing, pieces of his homeworld, changed by the yellow sun, a personal wormwood, ready to destroy the one thing it used to play home to. It was a bitter irony. “Anytime a fight occurs in Metropolis it is a tragedy, but to let the things we face run unopposed in this city would deal more damage than all your money could undo.” He didn’t mention the many times Lex had staged assaults on her city to test Superman, not directly at least, it was supposed to be bad form to speak ill of the dead. Nor did he mention that several of the league members contribute to getting the damage done in their battles repaired, in one form or another, she knew her line of accusation was false, at this point, she was merely trying to hurt the man in front of her.
Mercy Graves: The sheer arrogance of the man of steel rubbed her the wrong way. As if his good looks and broad chest should make everyone forgive the damage that he caused. These fights never happened before Superman's arrival, at least not that Mercy remembered. Her eyes narrowed as he justified his existence and continued his high horse morality, accusing her in a manner that didn't sit well with her.
"You're the most arrogant man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting," she said, stepping forward and closing the space he had tried to open. Her buzz was starting to wain and she was feeling the cold bite of the night, her cheeks reddened by the wind. The irony, of course, was not only that she was arrogant, and indeed stalking down the Man of Steel, whom she saw eye to eye with only due to her seven thousand dollar pumps, and that she was also the pupil of Lex Luthor, an equally arrogant man.
"Why did you even come here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as she stepped closer again, unknowingly driving him towards the edge of the roof top. "Did you think that I would swoon like some insipid reporter? Fall broken and blubbering into your arms and agree to a grand partnership?" she rolled her eyes, lifting her hands out to her sides, making an expansive, encompassing gesture. Her voice was cruel, cold and demeaning, demanding of an answer but also rough to the point of commanding silence.
Superman: He didn’t see it as arrogance, because it wasn’t. He was a being, an individual that loved this world. It was his own, he’d grown here, experienced loss, loved, been loved, done all the things people say make a man a man. Still, Mercy seemed to share the belief that he was an outsider bringing trouble and then soaking in the glory of fixing problems he caused. They couldn’t be more wrong, some people had come for him, it was true, but if he left Earth, how many people wouldn’t have been saved, the countless lives would have been lost surely made it worth it, didn’t it? He’d struggled with this question on more than one occasion. The world had defenders, Hal, Diana, Bruce, Arthur. All brave souls who dedicated their time and efforts to keeping Earth safe, maybe the world didn’t need Superman, but in the end, he realized even with Superman, the JLA couldn’t save everyone, and with him around, the load was easier to bare. He was helping, he wasn’t about to let her make him think otherwise. “No, I didn’t expect you to swoon, or to fall over yourself, I expected you to be in pain and recognize when someone is trying to help you through it.” She continued closing on him, his eyes watched her form, waiting for her to strike. “I’m only trying to help you, Mercy, to allow you to see a better path. You call it arrogance, I call it hope.” Again, he increased the distance, willing himself to remain on his feet. Luckily, the piece she wore was small, effective at a greater range than Clark thought, but not nearly as draining as a larger rock might have been. He was prepared now, no longer taken by surprise. “I don’t want to fight you anymore, I don’t want to keep having this pointless bickering getting in the way of doing real good. Can’t you see that? No matter what you think of me, or of the League, we’re trying to help make the world a better place, if you’re as serious about that as you claim to be, then take the offer. Stop the senseless power struggle and work with me, for once, let Lexcorp do the right thing.”
Mercy Graves: Despite the alcohol, the six inch stiletto heels and the whipping, bitter winds that battered them on top of the Lex Corp's penthouse, Mercy managed to remain upright, her chin lifted up against the chill as her blonde locks succumbed to the torture of the wind, no longer in perfect, precise place but rather tossed by the wind into a wild mess about her face.
"You want to help me?" she said, her eyes red but filled with a strength belying her size. It was a strength built on the knowledge that she had pulled herself up from nothing. While not everything she owned she had earned, she had earned her right to call it her own. "Stay out of my way." Her words cut deeper than a knife and bit with a harder chill than the wind as she turned on the toe of her expensive shoes. She was done with him.
He continued to talk about the way he and his League were trying to make the world a better place and she stopped, looking over her shoulder. "I've donated entire sanitation plants, schools, hospitals to developing nations," she told him, never actually looking at him properly. "I have helped bring Suicide Slums back from the edge, without driving up the property values and forcing good, hard working families out. Through various charities Lex Corp helps no fewer than six million children a day in the United States get the food and school supplies they need. All you do is put out the fires you yourself caused in the first place." She turned her head back around as she reached the sliding glass door back into her penthouse.
Superman: As Mercy turned Superman breathed a bit easier, obviously secure in the fact that she controlled the situation. Clark knew that Lex had an effect on Mercy, he had no idea she boasted this level of devotion. Clark had offered the same deal to Lex once upon a time a chance for peaceful coexistence, where both men but their own issues aside and worked for the betterment of mankind, he'd gotten a similar response. She wasn't wrong, LexCorp had helped a lot of people. Here she was, however, fooling herself into thinking it had all been for selfless need to help as opposed to the truth. Lex never did anything that didn't come with a bright silver lining.
They'd fought enough for one night, Mercy had been through a lot, she'd lost someone dear to her and Clark knew that feeling. She turned away from him, Clark didn't pursue. As she arrived at the doors to her Penthouse, he lifted off the roof, hovering above the balcony he half flew, half floated out over the street. He ignored the stabs, she was wrong, he knew she was wrong and there was no point in arguing with her anymore. "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Graves." With last words spoken he turned, flew into the air and made way for his apartment.
Arriving on his own balcony, his eyes turned back to the penthouse of LexCorp, perhaps he'd come on too strong, perhaps with time Mercy could see that they could in fact do well together. Something in him hoped she could but a more logical part of him knew what the more likely scenario was. Every person Superman saved, every time he was mentioned in the news, or in the paper, Mercy would be reminded of Lex's vendetta and that Superman didn't save him. She wasn't Lex, that much was sure, but he couldn't tell if that made her more or less dangerous.
~ le fin ~
"Fairly certain, ma'am," the young man with the build of a boxer in a business suit said, standing uncomfortably at ease, his hands folded in front of him. "The body was mostly decompossed, but we were able to obtain most of the skull. His dental records were an all but perfect match. It appeared the remains had a few teeth missing but they were consistent with the injuries he may have received during the crash."
As he spoke Mercy Graves, acting CEO of LexCorp took a sip from her glass, feeling the warmth of the amber whiskey flow over her tongue and slide down her throat. The breath she had drew Iin, inhaling the subtle scents of the whiskey, was let out slowly as her gray green eyes watched the clouds over Metropolis.
"The skull showed signs of a healed fracture across his orbital bone, along the side of his head, consistent with Mister Luthor's car accident as a young man," he continued to report, standing awkwardly.
Mercy remembered that; it was one of the last times he had driven himself. Not that he was a bad driver, but as with most geniuses, his mind had a habit of drifting. This occassion it drifted while driving a Mercedes MacLaren. The car was a write off and Lex was in a coma for a week. It was the first time she ran his company for him, wrestling decisions away through sheer determination from board members who would have gone against his wishes.
It was the second time she impressed him with her daring and wits, but far from the last.
The silence stretched between the two and Mercy let her eyes close, feeling the discomfort rising from the fidgeting body guard. "You're dismissed," she said easily, tipping the rest of the drink into her mouth, listening for the sound of the heavy office door to shut and lock behind him, all the while letting the burn spread across her mouth.
She drew a deep breath and swallowed down the liquor, and with it the emotions that were mixing inside of her as she heard the latch click letting her know the door was indeed closed and locked and she was alone with her thoughts.
Lex was dead, she thought, spinning the large wing backed chair, the large wing backed chair that had once been his, around so she could sit and face the city. It had once been his, and now it was thrust on her, along with his company. She had done well when she thought it was only a temporary stop gap, that Luthor would return triumphant from whatever tropical paradise he had run off to but now...
She was getting that numb feeling in her face as she slumped into the chair and a very un-Mercy like posture. Her nose and lips began to tingle with the sensation because blood is driven elsewhere in the body, required by more important, life bringing systems to comprehend the situation, her knees together, feet at an angle inside their ludicrously priced high heeled shoes. The empty glass remained in her hand, the chill, smooth reminder that she had a drink now abandoned.
Lex was dead.
She had much to do, lawyers to call, a will to assess, she was the executor of the estate and would thus have to take care of the dispersal. She rubbed the small piece of silver that hung around her neck. It was inset with a green stone most mistook for emerald, but it wasn't. Not even close. Lex had given it to her after her mother died, a symbol that he would protect her so long as she remained loyal to him.
She chewed the inside of the her cheek, something she had always done when nervous or deep in thought. Bringing the empty glass to her lips for a sip she was met only with the slivered remains of ice.
"Damn," she frowned into the muddled surface of the watery remains at the bottom of her crystal, generous mouth pulling into a red slash, turning down at the corners.
Graves stood up and refilled her glass, taking the bottle with her as she wandered away from the wet bar. She was in Lex's office, her office, which was part of the complex of passage ways that had allowed her and Luthor to access anything on this floor and the three above them, the upper most of which comprised his penthouse, her own condo just below.
This was fortuitous, as she was able to take a private elevator to the roof. While waiting for the elevator to rise she finished her drink, pouring herself a third when the door opened. The roof top was a garden, used to host parties and fancy dress galas for the various foundations funded by Lex and now Mercy.
Her stilettos clicked along the tiles of the stone walk way, echoing over the roar of wind some fifty stories up, thumping in the same stillness of her heart beat as she poured her fourth drink. "Well, I hope you're fucking happy Superman," she said bitterly, raising her glass to the empty night sky. "You finally fucking won."
She tossed back the liquor and no longer even felt the burn, though her lips pulled into the typical sneer that one made when taking a shot of whisky. "WELL!?" she screamed into the blackness. "Are you!?"
Superman: This night had been a night of shock, relief, guilt and all rolled into one. He’d heard of Lex’s death, how could he not? The name Lex Luthor was one under Superman’s constant suspicion and he kept a close ear for it. When he first heard the news, undeniable proof, he couldn’t believe it. Lex was a lot of things, a former friend, a failed redemption, an adversary, despite all that, Clark had never wished him dead, then why had a brief moment of relief washed over him at the news? It was human, he expected, to learn that there was one less worry in the world, but he felt alien, guilty for having ever let the feeling touch him. Lex was a person, he was a human being, while he had a lot to answer for, Clark was a symbol, a beacon, a message that was simple ‘There is always hope.’ For that to be true, it had to be applied to everyone, especially those that had gone astray. Superman and Lex had a history, Clark often wondered how he didn’t hate the man, but he hadn’t, he’d pitied him, never understood, taunted, and then finding out there was a being out there that rivaled his superiority, the weight of all he accomplished and all he would never accomplished had broken the man. Now, he was dead and Clark had no idea what to feel, sad for the loss of life, the loss of a friend? Regret for things unsaid and misunderstandings unresolved? At peace with the idea that his own choices were responsible for his fate? It was a confusing time. Then, through the closed window of his apartment, he heard the words, a slew of curses sent into the night sky, sent to him. He didn’t have to focus, he knew where they were coming from and whom. His most loyal ally, his only friend, if that’s what they were, Mercy Graves.
Dressed in a heartbeat, the man of steel had taken to the skies, watching the woman, intoxicated by the liquor he could smell at a distance and her own blinding rage. Was it wise, to show his face now? No, it was foolish and naive to think he could console her, to hope that she could be consoled, but that’s what Superman was, wasn’t it? Hope, that impossible things came to pass. His jaw set, the Man of Steel made his way to the roof of LexCorp's main office, taking a position on the opposite side, he approached slowly and without attempting to hide his presence. “It’s dangerous for you up here, Miss Graves, winds gusts are violent and your footing is...compromised.” How did you speak to someone that hated your guts? Friends, victims, villains, he understood, but he wasn’t here to serve justice, he was here to offer a hand, a compassionate gesture, to explain himself. He knew he didn’t need defending, the logical part of his brain told him that she knew, deep deep down, what Lex had been, but love had a way of blinding people to their truths. “I’m sorry for your loss and no, I had hope for Lex, to hear that he is no longer with us...it’s a shock.” Distance was kept, she was grieving, angry, drunk, a bad combination to be sure, but Superman had a responsibility to help all the world's inhabitants and Superman imagined, Mercy had very few people to grieve with her.
Mercy Graves: The blonde woman heard the wicked whipping of the cape before he spoke and turned around suddenly, her sharp eyes filled with anger and a vile hatred that traveled even in the darkness. Without speaking she threw her empty rocks glass at him, the attack surprisingly accurate given the distance, the wind and the fact that she was drunk. The glass would shatter harmlessly across his shoulder, offering not so much as even nick in his costume, but it did make her feel somewhat better.
"This is all your fault," she shouted at him, having still not quite given in to tears, though they were certainly brewing in her slender frame. "He was obsessed with you! With beating you. Proving he was better than you, even though he was already," she let out words that perhaps were too true, too hurtful to herself, to have been whispered while sober. "All he wanted to do was protect his city!"
Being presented with Superman with the wounds so fresh was a chance to let her anger out, to use him as a wailing wall. Her heart ached, and her body registered a cold feeling, though with eight plus ounces of whiskey in her system it was unlikely caused by the weather but rather the feeling of loss that she experiencing. Lex had been her world for the last ten years. She sank to her knees, the thin silk of her stockings tearing against the rough cement of the roof path tiles. She still held the bottle of whiskey in her left hand.
Those grey-green eyes looked up at Superman, the shining, iconic and godlike representation of everything "good" in Metropolis and spoke with a very chilling, cold tone. "And now who is going to protect Metropolis?"
Superman: She was beyond upset, inconsolable was the proper word for her current emotional position, still, never give up. Without Lex whispering in her ear, without his own darkness seeping over her, perhaps she could see a different path. “I’d have saved Lex if I could have, somewhere, you know that.” He stepped closer, his body lowering itself to the ground, the shattered class couldn’t hurt him but it was an emotional blow. She really hated him, it wasn’t that he hadn’t felt that feeling before, but, it wasn’t something that came easily to him. “Lex did his best to keep his every move from me, I can’t save someone that doesn’t want to be, Miss Graves.” Despite the intimate nature of the conversation, Superman was sure they were not on a first name basis. His opportunity, perhaps a chance to let her see. “We could protect Metropolis.” He wasn’t trying to manipulate her, that wasn’t his way, his voice, his eyes, showed every bit of honesty. “I see all the good we could do together, if we just stopped working against each other.”
He hoped his words got through, he hoped with his being, that she could see the rationale in his thoughts. “Lex wanted to be the world’s savior, I want the same thing. Power corrupted the man, Miss Graves, jealousy and power took one of mankind's greatest minds and set it down the wrong path, I beg you, don’t repeat his mistakes. I will always be here, I will protect Metropolis, but, I’d like to do it with your help.” He was extending a hand, a chance, for two of the world’s greatest rivals to become one of the world’s greatest teams. With LexCorp resources, so much good could be done, all Mercy had to do was let it. They were friends once, Clark and Lex, he couldn’t tell her that, it would get her too close to who he was, even though Lex had all but erased any trace of his time in Smallville, Mercy was, above all, resourceful. Still, it didn’t stop Clark from missing the man he once called his friend.
Mercy Graves: She watched as he stepped towards her, despite her thousand dollar suit and seven hundred dollar shoes, the expensive pearls in her ears and the business woman hair do, she looked lost, almost child like. Her eyes were large, round and looked up at him almost helplessly as he stepped towards her. The generous curve of her mouth was pinched, almost into an impetuious pouting gesture, lending even more so to the sense of child likeness in her bearing.
She listened to his offer. An olive branch. A promise that he would have saved Lex if only he could, as if she was some stupid little dillitante, one of the millions who believed that Superman was entirely benevolent. Mercy was not so naive; no one was pure good. There was always something that could corrupt a man, even superman.
Her heart was beating a mile a minute, painfully in her chest as he stepped even closer. "Lex wasn't corrupted by power; he was corrupted by you," she shot back. "Your presence made it impossible for him to relax, for him to relent; so long as you existed anything he did would only be second best because you existed." She paused for a moment, rising to her feet, drunk body allowing her to ignore the burning senseation in her skinned knees as she took a shakey step forward. "You! You who never had to work for anything, who never had to suffer, or sacrifice for your gifts," she accused him. "You lost your family? Who hasn't!?" she shot back, the anger coming back. "You can fail and still they love you! You have unblinking support! You and those jack booted thugs in your super friends group. Wonder Woman? Batman? Green Lantern? Who chose these people to be our saviours? Who vetted you!?" she screamed, taking a heavy swig from the bottle in her hand.
When he said that they could protect the city, together, she laughed. It was a bitter, dry and acrid sound, one filled with derision and sarcasm. She took another long pull from the bottle as she swaggered towards him, standing almost in his face with her six inch heels. The eyes that met his were as impenetrable as his own skin, and cold as the tundra home of the Fortress of Solitude. When she spoke, her voice matched the chill in her eyes, and she said only six simple words: "And who protects us from you?"
Superman: She continued on, hammering after him, demanding that he justify his position. It was true, in a certain light, calling yourself the savior of humanity took a lot of self-confidence, bordering on the line between confident and arrogant, but that wasn’t what how he saw himself. He had seen the potential this world had to offer and that is what he vowed to save, to protect,to offer, the hope for a brighter future, a better tomorrow. For her to attack him, to compare him to the man Lex had become, obviously she made a habit of diluting herself. “Who vetted me? This is not a position one is elected to, it’s not some title that allows you to sit on top of the world and be obeyed. That’s what Lex didn’t understand, what you obviously don’t understand. You do not become Superman for the power it gives you become Superman because you have the power to serve.” To take the fight to those that would disregard all that was right and to show them a better path. “We all have darkness inside us, Miss Graves, it pushes and pulls us into terrible things. Should my own ever rise up, those ‘jack booted thugs’ they will stop me. That is what we do, we protect those in need. Lex was a powerful man, a genius, without a question but that does not excuse him stepping on everyone he had to step on to get what he wanted. He started as a man with a dream and became a monster in need of recognition. That, his own pride, is why he could not do what needed be done.” His own anger flaring slightly before he quickly reigned it in. This was not what he came here for. He clenched his fiist and then he felt it, a sharp jab of pain in his palm. Blood spilled from the wound and he looked it curiously, a shard of glass left from the glass she threw at him, now puncturing his hand. “What…?”
Mercy Graves: She listened to him and was ready to shoot back, ready to smash the bottle in her hand against him. "You have everything," she said, her voice cracking. He kept defending himself, defending his friends. "And if you went rogue, not even that Amazon could stop you, and even if they were able to, they'd level an entire city in trying to get it!" she shot back. It was true; even while they "defended" freedom and justice, as they saw it mind you, the Justice League had cost trillions of dollars worth of damage to Metropolis alone, never mind what Batman and his kind had caused in Gotham, or the potential for international crisis caused by the two monarchs. Atlantis and Themyscira were martial peoples, each able to defend themselves against the best the Justice League could throw at them seperately; Heaven help the world if Amazons and Atlantians ever found common cause against humans. She saw the anger flare into his eyes and she narrowed her own. C'mon, she thought to herself in her drunken state. Hit me. Fucking hit me, end it! And then she saw the open hand and was as dumb struck as him.
Superman: “The damage….” He began, his throat was dry, suddenly and his legs did not feel as strong as they once did. Still, he’d come for peace, he’d been hurt worse, he was sure she hadn’t meant to cut him, maybe she had wanted to, but when she threw the glass, some part of her knew it wouldn’t hurt him, such open attacks were rarely her or Lex’s way. Then again Lex was gone and it was just he and Mercy on the roof and this much open honesty wasn’t exactly her style either. “Was...this one of his tricks?” Confusion laced his face as he fell to one knee, his hand catching him, it crept up slow, but the longer her stood, the weaker he got. His eyes searched, looking for the slightly glowing rock that normally caused these effects, even long distance radiation could have played a part, draining him of the sun's energy and with the sun on the other side of the world at the moment, he didn’t need to collapse in front of her, not now. He focused, willing himself back to his feet before staggering backwards and using a nearby air conditioning unit to hold himself upright. His eyes scanned her, looking for the source of the sudden small throb in his temple. “What have you done?” He should have known better, how could he have been so naive? He’d heard a person cry out in pain, he knew the pain of lost, he wanted to come, wanted to mend fences, if it were possible. Superman had always felt that Mercy had loved Lex more than she’d hated Superman, perhaps his intuition was wrong, perhaps she’d loved Lex because they hated Superman and this had been her plan from the beginning.” With a bit of himself coming back to himself, he stood straighter, clearing his parched throat before he removed the glass from his hand and pressed it to his thigh, his accelerated healing was slowed, but not gone and the cut began to heal. Poison? Kryptonite in the glass perhaps? No, he’d seen her drink from it, she wouldn’t imbibe radioactive material, Lex had never known if Kryptonite was completely harmless to human’s, Mercy would have known not to take that risk.
Mercy Graves: It took Mercy of while to realize what was going on. To say it was unintentional was an understatement. She knew what her necklace was made out of, but neither her nor Lex had anticipated that such a small piece, no larger than a finger nail, would be effective against him at a distance. Good to know, she thought to herself, her free hand rising to her neck, the stone visible in its silver setting against her pale skin, catching the moonlight as the clouds drifted lazily over the city.
"No tricks," she said, her voice even, more the way he was used to hearing her, not that he was used to hearing her as Superman, of course, but Clark Kent would have attended many press conferences since she became acting CEO of LexCorp. "Just biology," she said, setting the bottle down on a side table. Mercy was still very much drunk, and very angry. She had no intent on throwing her advantage away by leaving his vicinity, though.
He could suppose her motivations, and they were somewhat true. She loved Lex, even if he didn't love her back, or didn't love her in the same way, and regardless of what he said, she would blame Superman quite gracefully for Lex's fall from grace, his descent into madness and his untimely death.
"What have I done?" she said, her voice cracking as she temporarily lost her grip again, the beast of a man regaining himself, forcing himself to his feet. On one level, the refusal to stay down could be respected by Mercy, however, in light of everything else, she wouldn't be commenting. "I've raised families out of poverty! Including myself! I've rebuilt schools and hospitals -you- destroyed! I've cleaned up your financial messes all over this city! Funded clean up efforts and backed the charities that home those made homeless when you and your "hero" friends bring -your- fights to -my- city! And yet you as me what I've done?" She narrowed her eyes. "You haven't begun to see what I can do, Superman."
Superman:“You’re shading the truth and you know it. The Justice League always works to keep civilian casualties to a minimum in times of crisis. We have never once brought a fight here, to -our- city. Fights come, people, those obsessed with power, like Lex, seek us out to prove they are better or that we are inferior, how many people has your company killed while Lex tried to show the world I couldn’t protect it? How much damage have you wrought on this path for dominance?” He’d backed up a few more feet before he continued, Kryptonite, it was an odd thing, pieces of his homeworld, changed by the yellow sun, a personal wormwood, ready to destroy the one thing it used to play home to. It was a bitter irony. “Anytime a fight occurs in Metropolis it is a tragedy, but to let the things we face run unopposed in this city would deal more damage than all your money could undo.” He didn’t mention the many times Lex had staged assaults on her city to test Superman, not directly at least, it was supposed to be bad form to speak ill of the dead. Nor did he mention that several of the league members contribute to getting the damage done in their battles repaired, in one form or another, she knew her line of accusation was false, at this point, she was merely trying to hurt the man in front of her.
Mercy Graves: The sheer arrogance of the man of steel rubbed her the wrong way. As if his good looks and broad chest should make everyone forgive the damage that he caused. These fights never happened before Superman's arrival, at least not that Mercy remembered. Her eyes narrowed as he justified his existence and continued his high horse morality, accusing her in a manner that didn't sit well with her.
"You're the most arrogant man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting," she said, stepping forward and closing the space he had tried to open. Her buzz was starting to wain and she was feeling the cold bite of the night, her cheeks reddened by the wind. The irony, of course, was not only that she was arrogant, and indeed stalking down the Man of Steel, whom she saw eye to eye with only due to her seven thousand dollar pumps, and that she was also the pupil of Lex Luthor, an equally arrogant man.
"Why did you even come here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as she stepped closer again, unknowingly driving him towards the edge of the roof top. "Did you think that I would swoon like some insipid reporter? Fall broken and blubbering into your arms and agree to a grand partnership?" she rolled her eyes, lifting her hands out to her sides, making an expansive, encompassing gesture. Her voice was cruel, cold and demeaning, demanding of an answer but also rough to the point of commanding silence.
Superman: He didn’t see it as arrogance, because it wasn’t. He was a being, an individual that loved this world. It was his own, he’d grown here, experienced loss, loved, been loved, done all the things people say make a man a man. Still, Mercy seemed to share the belief that he was an outsider bringing trouble and then soaking in the glory of fixing problems he caused. They couldn’t be more wrong, some people had come for him, it was true, but if he left Earth, how many people wouldn’t have been saved, the countless lives would have been lost surely made it worth it, didn’t it? He’d struggled with this question on more than one occasion. The world had defenders, Hal, Diana, Bruce, Arthur. All brave souls who dedicated their time and efforts to keeping Earth safe, maybe the world didn’t need Superman, but in the end, he realized even with Superman, the JLA couldn’t save everyone, and with him around, the load was easier to bare. He was helping, he wasn’t about to let her make him think otherwise. “No, I didn’t expect you to swoon, or to fall over yourself, I expected you to be in pain and recognize when someone is trying to help you through it.” She continued closing on him, his eyes watched her form, waiting for her to strike. “I’m only trying to help you, Mercy, to allow you to see a better path. You call it arrogance, I call it hope.” Again, he increased the distance, willing himself to remain on his feet. Luckily, the piece she wore was small, effective at a greater range than Clark thought, but not nearly as draining as a larger rock might have been. He was prepared now, no longer taken by surprise. “I don’t want to fight you anymore, I don’t want to keep having this pointless bickering getting in the way of doing real good. Can’t you see that? No matter what you think of me, or of the League, we’re trying to help make the world a better place, if you’re as serious about that as you claim to be, then take the offer. Stop the senseless power struggle and work with me, for once, let Lexcorp do the right thing.”
Mercy Graves: Despite the alcohol, the six inch stiletto heels and the whipping, bitter winds that battered them on top of the Lex Corp's penthouse, Mercy managed to remain upright, her chin lifted up against the chill as her blonde locks succumbed to the torture of the wind, no longer in perfect, precise place but rather tossed by the wind into a wild mess about her face.
"You want to help me?" she said, her eyes red but filled with a strength belying her size. It was a strength built on the knowledge that she had pulled herself up from nothing. While not everything she owned she had earned, she had earned her right to call it her own. "Stay out of my way." Her words cut deeper than a knife and bit with a harder chill than the wind as she turned on the toe of her expensive shoes. She was done with him.
He continued to talk about the way he and his League were trying to make the world a better place and she stopped, looking over her shoulder. "I've donated entire sanitation plants, schools, hospitals to developing nations," she told him, never actually looking at him properly. "I have helped bring Suicide Slums back from the edge, without driving up the property values and forcing good, hard working families out. Through various charities Lex Corp helps no fewer than six million children a day in the United States get the food and school supplies they need. All you do is put out the fires you yourself caused in the first place." She turned her head back around as she reached the sliding glass door back into her penthouse.
Superman: As Mercy turned Superman breathed a bit easier, obviously secure in the fact that she controlled the situation. Clark knew that Lex had an effect on Mercy, he had no idea she boasted this level of devotion. Clark had offered the same deal to Lex once upon a time a chance for peaceful coexistence, where both men but their own issues aside and worked for the betterment of mankind, he'd gotten a similar response. She wasn't wrong, LexCorp had helped a lot of people. Here she was, however, fooling herself into thinking it had all been for selfless need to help as opposed to the truth. Lex never did anything that didn't come with a bright silver lining.
They'd fought enough for one night, Mercy had been through a lot, she'd lost someone dear to her and Clark knew that feeling. She turned away from him, Clark didn't pursue. As she arrived at the doors to her Penthouse, he lifted off the roof, hovering above the balcony he half flew, half floated out over the street. He ignored the stabs, she was wrong, he knew she was wrong and there was no point in arguing with her anymore. "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Graves." With last words spoken he turned, flew into the air and made way for his apartment.
Arriving on his own balcony, his eyes turned back to the penthouse of LexCorp, perhaps he'd come on too strong, perhaps with time Mercy could see that they could in fact do well together. Something in him hoped she could but a more logical part of him knew what the more likely scenario was. Every person Superman saved, every time he was mentioned in the news, or in the paper, Mercy would be reminded of Lex's vendetta and that Superman didn't save him. She wasn't Lex, that much was sure, but he couldn't tell if that made her more or less dangerous.
~ le fin ~