He shrugged and stood up, to move his chair closer to her and sit back down again.
Time moved slowly for him. It almost sounded untrue, considering how fast his legs could carry him, but hours and days and months could not be controlled by his preferences. He didn’t get a say in how slowly they were to go by. To him it seemed that he had been here a long time, and he had in a sense. Bart had been here longer than many of the misplaced men and women now stuck in an alien city. He, Clark and the missing in action Lex had all been in Los Angeles for, relatively, the same amount of time.
“First and foremost is Wolfram and Hart. They stand in the front of every evil group in this place. People are always warning newcomers about them. And then there’s Damien, of course, who likes to move into hotels that I’ve found first, so that he can scar and ruin young minds for the rest of their lives.” He was bitter about that. Damien had taken over the building that he had gotten to before him, and he had ruined what he had tried to keep going. The hotel was supposed to be safe. He had worked hard at keeping it that way. Damien had demolished his hard work. He had destroyed it and chased him out.
If he could have killed him, he would have. It wouldn’t be nice, and it wouldn’t be something that a hero was expected to do, but it would be satisfying.
Bart took a glance at her computer screen and looked away to grab another cookie from the plate. “Zod and Superman-Prime are givens. They have no problem with making their intentions known to the whole world.”