Dimming of the Day (Conner)

Participants: Cassandra Sandsmark | Conner Kent
Open/Closed: Closed
Location(s): Kent Farm, Smallville, Kansas
Time of Day: Twilight
Weather: Warm, with a slight breeze
Summary: Cassie and Conner visit the Kent farm, taking time to reflect and catch up.

The late evening sun dipped just below the horizon, painting the Kansas sky in muted pinks and purples. A soft breeze rustled the tassels in endless corn fields, a comforting and ever-present whisper in the acres of land surrounding the Kent farm. Sat on a wooden bench, a warming iced tea in her hands, Cassie looked out over the miles of crop ahead of her, their tall stalks casting long, swaying shadows. In the distance, a flock of dark birds wheeled as daylight dimmed, circling the tree in which they would come to roost. The occasional sounds of cattle braying were louder than any car engine, and occasionally a nearby horse huffed and snorted as it nudged its tottering, band-legged foal to rest.

It was easy to see why Clark, Conner and Kara returned to their ancenstral home so frequently. A world away from big cities, distanced from the hectic rush of corporate life, the Kent estate existed in a state of perpetual peace – a moment in time that seemed to linger, and while days passed and seasons changed, the farm endured, a rural haven without apology, a space for reflection and relaxation.

There had been times in her life in which Cassie had been a regular visitor; a handful of her most cherished memories played out with the agricultural paradise as their backdrop – clear skies, full moons and floating picnic tables. But the frequent visits had changed with Conner's passing. For longer than she would have liked, she had avoided returning, happy to let it exist in her mind, at first afraid that setting foot on gravel path to the old farmhouse would make his death real; later, that her being there would see the quiet, calm veil over the estate pulled free, allowing the chaos of the outside world in.

At the time, the only thing worse would have been if nothing had changed at all.

But it had weathered even that storm. Conner had returned, and Cassandra had stopped in for the first time in what seemed like forever, and almost everything was exactly as she remembered it. Only she and Conner had changed.

She let out a soft sigh as her eyes were drawn away from the horizon and toward an approaching Superboy, the tall, dark-haired Titan emerging from the around the side of the Kent's house. She offered him a warm smile, and raised her glass of tea in greeting. “So that roofing wasn't as easy to fix as you thought...” Ma Kent had called Conner that morning, asking for his aid in repairing a leak. The request had led to some complication with the two teenagers' coffee-and-catch-up plans, so Cassie had agreed to accompany him for what should have been a 'quick' chore.

Not that she minded it had taken far longer than expected; being back at the farm inspired a sense of ease that Cassandra hadn't felt in a long time.

Conner walked around the corner still drying his hands on his shirt. Ma Kent had caught him on his way back out and insisted, saying it was polite, given he had company. Conner, mostly, had forgotten that the work on the roof had coated his hands in dirt and dust. It was still clear, staining the white shirt he wore under his open, blue flannel. He'd been propelled by guilt, though, at keeping one of his closest friends waiting for so long.

Something about Kent Farm cast a spell on a Kryptonian. Technically, Conner could've completed the task in the blink of an eye if he'd really wanted. But the farm honed the lessons of hard work being its own reward, and emphasized embracing the toil of humanity to respect his superhuman gifts even more. So he'd done it the old-fashioned way (with a bit of x-ray vision drizzled in).

Cassie, of course, wasn't miffed in the least bit. Conner was pretty sure that it was one of the rules to be a part of the Wonder-family, that you had to be more-or-less perfect: just like to be a Super-family member you had to have blue eyes. Conner thought about how different the last few hours would've been if any of his other friends had been there: Bart would've been hanging over his shoulder, pestering without trying to the entire time; Tim would've probably gotten into some case or task on his laptop and been annoyed at Conner for popping back up, finished, and interrupting him.

Wonder Girl, though, just tipped her iced tea and gave a smile that instantly soothed his guilt. Superboy dropped down on the bench beside her and smiled, rolling one shoulder to work out the start of a kink. "Never is," he chuckled, gently. "I think Ma wanted the company." That'd been part of his reason for taking the mostly mortal route, too. "Sorry for the wait," Conner said, and he knew Cassie would warmly shrug off the apology, just like he knew she'd been expecting him to say it.

Cassandra Sandsmark

Cassie could have guessed that Conner would have offered an apology for his tardiness, even though he knew that one wasn’t needed – just like he’d have probably guessed that Cassandra would wave it off. When two people had known each other for as long as Superboy and Wonder Girl had, those sort of assumptions became almost commonplace. The same could be said of Bart and Tim, she’d known them for so long that she felt fairly confident predicting their reactions to any given situation. Not that there wasn’t the occasional room for surprise – it was those, after all, that served to strengthen their bond.

Smiling and wafting a hand in Conner’s general direction, she shook her head – likely affirming what the adoptive Kent had already guessed. “Don’t worry about it. Really.” Glancing over to where he’d sat at her side, the blonde gestured at the view. “I’m pretty sure you could have taken another couple of hours and I’d still have been quite happy taking in the sights and sounds of Kansas.” And though her comment could possibly have been interpreted as mildly sarcastic, Cassandra truly enjoyed the state’s rural charm: in a world of super-powered madness, absolute simplicity was nothing to scoff at.

Angling her body toward her company, so as not to keep speaking side-long, she lofted a single brow. “So what was the problem? Obviously something way more difficult to deal with than an invading swarm of xenomorphs.” She was fairly certain she’d watched Conner deal with that sort of issue in a matter of minutes. “Though, maybe just as physically taxing.” She inclined her head toward his shirt – covered in dirt and dust – and winked playfully.

Conner Kent

Conner couldn't suppress a little huff of laughter from slipping out of his nose. Of course he believed Cassie, that she thought the view and atmosphere was worth basking in. She wasn't the sort to lie. He wondered if she could, even if she wanted to. It was just simple fact, though, that Kansas was probably the least remarkable, most boring, most flat, most featureless squat of land on the face of the Earth. Even Conner, who had nostalgia, and a special, cherished place in his heart for it couldn't deny that.

"Oh, yeah," Conner said in over-exaggerated agreement, shrugging. "Flat, flat, and more flat. Corn," he looked one direction, screening his eyes with a hand, "corn and," he squinted to a second and third direction, "-yep. More corn." He leaned forward, elbows bracing on his knees, and laughed again.

He looked down, confused at first, when Cassie eyed his shirt. He gave another half-serious wince, seeing the streaks of grime and dust streaking the white t-shirt. The JL really needed to share their tech for damage-resistant fabric with farmers: they needed it more than the superheroes, in Conner's not-at-all-biased opinion.

"This world would be too perfect if I could just punch a leak to fix it," he sighed wistfully. At least with an alien invasion, things were very straightforward and didn't demand finesse. Or... maybe finesse would've been ideal, but Conner rarely bothered with it. He was sure Clark would have some cheesy saying or inspirational quote about how fixing the leak was somehow metaphorically tied to Conner's sense of character.

"So, what, is it just the point of comparing and contrasting that makes Kansas peaceful for you? It's, like, the total opposite of the Amazons's digs. I mean, it's literally called 'Paradise Island'," he pointed out, leaning back now with his elbows on the edge of the table.

Cassandra Sandsmark

“You know, you shouldn’t scoff at corn. It goes great with pretty much everything.” Despite her mockingly scalding tone, Cassie found it impossible not to laugh at Conner’s assessment of Kansas – a flat expanse covered in acres of cornfield and wheat sheaf. The pair shared in their youthful joviality, as if the weight of the world and the burden of heroics was, however briefly, lifted off their shoulders. They chuckled and joked like teenagers, teenagers not worried about saving the human race. In Smallville, that life seemed a world away, especially when surrounded by such mundane existence.

"This world would be too perfect if I could just punch a leak to fix it.”

Cassie nodded her agreement. “You think it works any better with finals?” She knew it didn’t. Resorting to fist fights rarely solved much beyond beating super-powered criminals into submission, and even then, they had a tendency to return years later, with an even bigger chip on their shoulder. Super villains didn’t listen to reason, though. And they hated talking, unless it involved monologuing all about their genius, world-ending plan. Throwing a punch was pretty much the only way to deal with them.

Anything else though? No such luck.

"So, what, is it just the point of comparing and contrasting that makes Kansas peaceful for you? It's, like, the total opposite of the Amazons's digs. I mean, it's literally called 'Paradise Island'."

At Conner’s query, Cassie shrugged and fell silent, thinking for a long moment. It meant when her response finally came, it had been carefully considered. “Themyscira is an enchanted isle, protected by an ancient race of warriors and blessed by the Pantheon. You’d be surprised if it wasn’t some perfect shrine to nature. But…” Cassie paused for effect. “Kansas doesn’t have that.” She smiled at Conner. “Paradise Island is beautiful because it’s meant to be…It’s basically utopia. Kansas is Kansas, but it’s still beautiful in its own way…and it hasn’t had to shut its borders to the world or hide away to be what it is.”

Cassandra loved Themyscira dearly. But there, she couldn’t escape from thoughts of duty: be it to her sisters, to the island’s protection or the wider world. In Smallville, no such thoughts troubled her. She could sit for hours and not be recognised or bothered by anyone, and knew that Kansas would expect nothing of her for the pleasure. Sometimes, that was exactly what Wonder Girl needed.

Conner Kent