|Jor-El (let_loose) wrote in parabolical,|
@ 2008-09-19 22:32:00
|Entry tags:||jor-el, the doctor [four]|
Who: Jor-El and The (Fourth) Doctor
What: He’s a father. He’s supposed to be protective.
Where: Downtown, across the street from a church
When: Night, 9 pm
He watched them at all times, from a distance, from the hidden concealment of the moving shadows that kept him unidentifiable. His niece was of less worry to him, less than his son would ever be. When Kal-El threw himself in the center of two creatures going at one another’s throats, when he was heroic enough to unknowingly endanger himself, Jor-El felt that as his only parent present, it was his responsibility to make sure that nothing damaging came from the boy’s concern.
To men they were gods, higher beings who didn’t bleed at the prodding of a knife being pushed into flesh. To men they were amazing and awe worthy and strong enough to take on a collapsing sky scraper. From those men they could demand fear and adoration. They could be stone idols come to life right before their very eyes, daunting and commanding with every step taken.
But none of them were resistant to the occasional sting of pain, or to the infrequent fight lost and won by the opponent. Kal-El could suffer and fall and his father would blame himself for every little thing that went wrong.
Kal-El was still young. His youth blinded him. He didn’t understand everything that he would have liked him to understand. He had yet to arrive at the vital mark, where he would know exactly how much he was capable of, and when not to interfere with the affairs of the people who lived under the same sky, in the places where he customarily found himself.
He would learn in time.
A teenage girl slid up against the wall, unzipped her jacket, tore out a cigarette from her side pocket and placed it forcefully between her pale lips. She craned her neck, pushed herself forward with her arms touching the sides of the church and fixed her eyes on the dark attired man standing on the opposite side of the street. Jor-El peered back in her direction and she settled into a relaxed slouch. She recognized him and having the understanding that he wasn’t going to harm or bother her, she was content to stay where she was.
He watched her just as he watched them. The girl was breakable and delicate and as human as they came. He had saved her twice before, and he wasn’t keen on letting her rebellious leanings kill her now.
Taking in a mouthful of air, he extracted his steady eyes and looked away. She wouldn’t run off to find another spot, not when this one was already protected by him.