solarcore: (#14572979)
ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ ( ᴋᴀʟ-ᴇʟ ). ([personal profile] solarcore) wrote in [personal profile] nightlife 2021-04-08 10:03 am (UTC)

Clark's own expression softens, like Bruce has said something other than nothing. Fond. His shoulder bumps into Bruce's without any kind of push behind it. It would be nice if the tunnel they're in would just spiral on forever, preserving just this in the cool watery shadows, the silent shapes drifting around them. Despite that sentiment—

—let's get outta here, the nudge seems to say.

Well. Almost.

Because there is a gift shop planted strategically by the exit that Clark inevitably swerves towards. Plenty of T-shirts and hoodies, metal straws to promote sustainable consumerism, a wall of plush toys. These, Clark appears tempted by, lingering over an otter, a leopard seal, a fuzzy stingray, but Lois has a threshold for adorable bullshit cluttering up her extremely good apartment and he has to be strategic.

(Also tempting: a pair of socks shaped like sharks, so it looks like they're eating your legs when pulled up. Clark does pick these up. Christmas for Arthur, sorted. One day, he'll get presents that aren't kitsch distilled.)

He identifies some respectable looking coffee keep-cups with myriads of sea creatures, picking up one patterned with seahorses speculatively, putting it back, exchanging it for the jellyfish one.

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