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Mar. 10th, 2013 05:57 pmA speedster walks into a gallery sounded like it could be the start of one of those jokes, but Bart was intrigued by what Kon had told him. He was uncertain about his part in this, but maybe he could do his friend a favor. Kon hadn't been this interested in a girl since the fallout with Daphne, and it would be something if he could help. Besides, all he needed to get was the mystery girl's name.
Though he wouldn't admit it, he had to see one of the paintings for himself. To see what others saw in something that to him was a personal legacy. Knowing he was a comic book hero was one thing, but he'd never really talked to people about who hadn't believed he could be a real person. At least, that was what he mostly assumed. He hadn't really advertised who he was in his world, but he'd never denied it. He'd also always known about other worlds. It had come with being temporally resistant. Knowing that other choices made worlds was something he'd had to learn to live with, especially when he could make those choices.
So he took his time in the gallery, looking around, working his way to that one painting he had to see. Because he didn't know what to think about a life he was apart from on the island. He took a long, slow breath as he looked, the familiar blur of relativistic speed captured rather well. And, suddenly, an impulsive thought made him smile.
"You're still running late, aren't you, Grandpa?"
Though he wouldn't admit it, he had to see one of the paintings for himself. To see what others saw in something that to him was a personal legacy. Knowing he was a comic book hero was one thing, but he'd never really talked to people about who hadn't believed he could be a real person. At least, that was what he mostly assumed. He hadn't really advertised who he was in his world, but he'd never denied it. He'd also always known about other worlds. It had come with being temporally resistant. Knowing that other choices made worlds was something he'd had to learn to live with, especially when he could make those choices.
So he took his time in the gallery, looking around, working his way to that one painting he had to see. Because he didn't know what to think about a life he was apart from on the island. He took a long, slow breath as he looked, the familiar blur of relativistic speed captured rather well. And, suddenly, an impulsive thought made him smile.
"You're still running late, aren't you, Grandpa?"
