[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mwTxa9q.png[/img][/center][COLOR=ed1c24][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]T H E  S K Y  ( S O R T  O F ? ) [/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][INDENT][sup][color=darkgray]11:35 a.m.  |  Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan, New York City[/color][/sup][/INDENT][/INDENT]

The summer sun beat down on a bustling urban hub built of wrought iron and glass. Millions of fragile primates weaved in-between streets of smooth stone, where beasts of steel and rubber raced bumper-to-rear to cross the expansive city. High above it all and maneuvering between the towers of glass were flocks of birds and fluffy masses of condensed water vapor- 'clouds,' the locals called them. Kon-El passed his palm through the billowing sheet, feeling each individual drop pass through the crevices in his fingertips; they slipped down his palm like a thousand, tiny tendrils reaching out to greet his touch.

Though it felt like an eternity to him, Kon-El didn't linger there for long before gravity took hold of his weight and dragged him down. It was like an anchor tied around his ankles, keeping him from staying up where he belonged for more than seconds at a time. It was painfully frustrating, but he couldn't stew in his irritations at the moment.

He was more concerned with making sure he landed.

Despite hours upon hours of practice with Kal, Kon was...nervous, embarrassingly enough. Not of being hurt in the fall, obviously- nothing could hurt a Kryptonian- but of screwing up his landing and accidentally destroying something he shouldn't. Everything around him was just so [i]fragile.[/i] The humans, their homes, their cars. His genetic template had once referred to the world as 'cardboard.' As Kon understood it, that material was as fragile to humans as humans were to people like Kon.

The air bent around his sleek form as he descended from the air like a rock, his arms held out to give him balance and his feet pointed in such a way that he hoped to direct his landing. He could feel the minute changes in the air pressure and wind direction down to the millisecond. It was a lot of information, and all of it useless given how little control he had over his gravitational field. For a moment, he thought he could feel himself slowing- that perhaps he was starting to get a handle on the whole 'flying' thing-

Just before he tasted concrete.

[color=ed1c24]"Damn it-"[/color] Kon snarled in a flash of red hot anger, his fingers digging into the street and shattering the asphalt like it was made of glass. In a huff he dragged himself back to his feet using a nearby street lamp, his grip just harsh enough to snap off a piece of its metal exterior. Enraged by his own clumsiness, he chucked the debris into the sky, watching as the steel disappeared above the cloud layer and soared toward the New York Harbor.

His little superpowered-tantrum drew the attention of more than a few nearby humans. The Kryptonian clone's cheeks flushed a bright red at the sight of their pointed cameras and the sound of their panicked whispers. He hadn't intended to make a scene, or to break anything, or to look like such an angry oaf while doing all of it.

[color=ed1c24]"Show's over."[/color] He snapped, taking off into the air with a leap that shook the street. The Superboy carried himself with an awkward glide toward a nearby brick building, landing atop its roof in a stumble that turned into an even more awkward roll. He couldn't understand why he was such a klutz. CADMUS had run him through simulation after simulation while he was trapped in their breeding chambers- flying hadn't been nearly so hard then. Kon assumed flying in the real world was just harder, but then Kara and Kal had both mastered it when they were years younger than he was.

A puddle left behind by last night's rain caught the clone's eye, drawing him toward it. He knelt down, watching his reflection match him in the still water. The face he saw didn't feel like it was his own; it looked too much like Kal's. Like a distorted, imperfect copy of the original. The crest he wore on his chest was much the same. It lacked the correct angles. The lines were too rounded out and soft- not as strong and uncompromising as the real symbol of the House of El.

Kon-El would’ve had trouble tearing his eyes away, if not for some distant cry for help. He immediately felt his mood shift as his attention focused fully on the far away voice; sound so quiet and so intermingled with other noise that no human could’ve heard, yet for him it was crystal clear all the same. [color=ed1c24]“Finally.”[/color] He muttered to himself, rising back up to his feet. He bounded across the rooftop and leaped from it, taking to the air to soar again. Another precious few seconds spent among the clouds. Superboy savored them, even as he descended back down to earth. He didn’t feel the same nervous energy in his veins as he aimed for a clearing in an alley beneath him. The purpose he felt didn’t allow for it.