Not a Date
Roleplaying Log: Not a Date
IC Details

Where Clark Kent and Trish Walker don't go on a date.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: September 20, 2019
IC Location: New York City - Manhattan - Uptown Manhattan
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 20 Sep 2019 23:39
Rating & Warnings: PG
Scene Soundtrack: [* ]
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

* OOC Time: Thu Sep 19 20:37:53 2019 *

* * *

Midday in Central Park has it busy with tourists milling about and heading to and fro. There's so much to see and do just within the Park itself that one could spend a good days just looking around and taking in all the activities that it has to offer. It's also a lovely place, however, to meet newfound acquaintances. Granted, due to how large a park it is, one has to be very specific as to where they want to meet.

Luckily Trish Walker has spent a good amount of time in Central Park over her lifetime of growing up in the city, and is quite capable of describing where to meet, which is exactly what she did when she and Clark Kent agreed to meet again. Sitting on a bench, dressed in jeans, a white shirt, a leather jacket, and shiny black shoes, she has her purse sitting on the bench next to her. She has a book in hand, to keep her occupied as she waits, as she arrived a little bit early.

* * *

Superman was fighting a giant robot in metropolis. Why is it always a giant robot?!

Seriously, its like EVERY OTHER WEEK a giant robot decides to come around. But Superman gets punched by the giant beast and so he hits the ground hard but gets back up to his feet and into the air. Wait a second. He sees a clock. Oh NO he's going to be late?!

Okay, time to end it. Superman flies forward and PUNCHES the massive machine so hard that it blows a hole straight through the chest! Its power-source completely destroyed, Superman catches the robot and sets it gently on the ground to limit destruction. The news tried to get Superman for a comment but the Man of Steel humbly declined, instead flying straight to New York!

Coming out of his rented New York apartment is Clark Kent! He had just put on his glasses and a flannel shirt with some blue jeans and nice outdoorsy shoes. He wears a brown dress coat over his clothes and he seems to immediately pick out Trish on the bench, where they had agreed to meet.

"Miss Walker!" Clark says with a wave and a stumble in his step. "How are you?"

* * *

"Clark! Please, call me Trish. It…honestly feels weird to be called Miss Walker. We're not in a business meeting." Trish grins, teasing him gently. "I'm good, thanks. And you?" She closes her book and slips it into her purse as she stands up. "I'm glad you weren't too busy here, or in Metropolis, to drop by and say hi." She hangs the purse over her shoulder and smiles

"Are you hungry?" She asks, looking around. "I know a couple good restaurants around that are quite good." She idly smooths out her shirt a little as she talks, tilting her head ever so slightly in an inquisitive manner.

* * *

Clark walks up to Trish and he gives a smile. "I'm sorry for being a minute or two late. I came as soon as I could. My boss wanted to yell at me because apparently I offended my interview guest, somehow I asked 'too straightforward questions'." Clark shakes his head a little bit. "But I'm glad I could come here too. Really."

Though He does nod a little bit. "I'm famished, actually. Thank you Trish. In that case, I think I will definitely let you lead the way." He offers the young woman his arm, letting her certainly take charge in this avenue.

Especially since Clark's idea of a good meal is in the form of the nearest pizza joint. She is far more experienced in this.

* * *

"It's no problem. I kept busy while I waited." Trish responds easily. "Ha. Really? Sometimes in journalism you need to ask the straightforward questions. It's just, you know, the way things go." She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "But I guess that's life, right? We gotta keep our bosses happy. It sucks sometimes, but they hold our jobs in their hands."

Looping her arm through his, she shakes her head again as she starts leading the way. "You really are the rare gentleman. It's not something that we see a lot of these days." She starts them through the park, taking them toward the lower half of the park. "Not that it's a bad thing, mind you."

She takes them from one path to another, not seeming to read the signs. "There's this lovely restaurant right on the water here in the Park." She explains. "Good food, good view. It's a good place to go when you're in the park."

* * *

"Yeah…Thats life. Man, I wish you could meet Perry. I feel like he'd really show you the definition of a horrible boss. But he cares about his employees almost as much as he cares about his stories. He's a good guy, he just has an anger management problem." Clark chuckles for a brief moment, but he walks side by side with Trish as she saw fit to run her arm through his.

When she calls him a rare gentleman, Clark seems to blush for a brief moment. "Oh, you're very very kind, Trish. I was just raised on a small farm. Had a lot of time to work on my manners. I believe that we should all treat each other in a way that dignifies ourselves but respects others. Whats the phrase? Manners Maketh Man?"

He sighs though. "But people are too busy being divided by politics, opinion, situations…people forgot about manners and the consequences."

But, thats him just rambling on. "Oh really? Well, I'll definitely trust your opinion on that. Is it a steak place or more fine dining?" He asks Trish, wondering about the menu or if she intends to keep it a surprise.

* * *

"I think I might hold off on meeting your boss, please and thank you." Trish grins. "Horrible bosses are not my thing. Not any more." Not since she fired her mother as her manager. "It's all well and good to care about people and everything, but I'm of the opinion that if you're the boss, and you're 'caring for people' doesn't also translate into you being a good boss, how much can you really care for people? Or maybe I'm just rambling on nonsensically." She chuckles softly.

"Maybe that made all the difference, where you were raised. Goodness knows that plenty of city boys don't seem to have the same manners." She pauses briefly before catching herself. "That's not to say there aren't plenty of nice guys to be met in the city. They're just, well, different. Times seem to have changed." She offers a nod regarding people in general. "It's true. People do seem to get up in arms about all sorts of things, dividing themselves between 'us and them'. Doesn't seem fair, really."

She points to a building up ahead, that is built right next to a lake in the Park. "That's where we're going. It's a nice place, maybe slightly finer dining, but it does have steak." She gives him a playful wink.

* * *

"You mean you don't want to meet Perry?" Clark laughs just a little bit, but he's doing this in humor, not laughing -at- Trish. That'd be so rude! "A part of me wants to ask what your experience with horrible bosses is but hey, its your call." He taeses her very softly. "Well, its also Metropolis and he runs pretty much the entire paper of the city. I understand the stress a little bit."

Uh, how does Clark understand the stress? He's JUST a reporter. A farmboy, to boot.

"Maybe it is the difference. Maybe the times are changing and tradition or manners and how we treat each other is changing with it. I don't know, everyone seems…mean and out only for themselves. Its like socially, we're becoming more hostile as time goes on. More selfish. I remember a time when we used to help each other without promise of reward." But thats Clark just being a righteous personality.

"Oh thank god. I love a good steak." Clark seems almost -relieved- to be able to be a carnivore before he hesitates. "Oh! Uh…are you vegan or vegetarian? I don't want to insult—"

* * *

"Let's just say, it's probably better for Perry if he doesn't meet me. Especially not on one of his bad boss days." Trish jokes, laughing as well, in a lighthearted way. "My bad boss issues go a little deeper. They're for more than the newly met…acquaintance." Or friend or whatever else. "You never know. Maybe I'll end up splurging and giving a tell all in an autobiography. 'Trish Talk: Patricia Walker Talks Life, Love, and Growing Up In The Limelight'." She giggles.

"Well, the times, they certainly are changing. Although, for what it's worth, I've not exactly lived a regular life for roughly two decades." Which isn't a lie. When you've been a TV star and then moved into music and then radio, life is anything but normal.

"Oh, no. I eat most anything." She nods. "I like a good steak as much as the next person…well, maybe not quite as much as you, by the sounds of it, but hey, we've all got our favourites!"

When they enter, she asks for a table for two at the host stand, where they're told it will just be a couple of minutes.

* * *

Clark chuckles just a little bit. "I'd read it." He tells Trish. "I've been considering releasing an autobiography myself, but…well, I feel like I haven't lived long enough to actually give an autobiography of myself. Maybe when I'm like…70 or something and I am happily retired." Though a word that she chooses makes him ponder: Love.

He IS technically being wined and dined right now. But he does seem relieved when Trish says she eats meat. "Oh good. I didn't want to be insulting. You never know until its too late these days and I do enjoy your company, Trish." He walks with her to the host's stand, where there will be a small wait. "Thank you, we'll wait." Clark gets the little device that lets people know when the time has come. He looks at Trish then.

"Can I ask you something, Trish?"

* * *

"It's a comfort to know that I'd have at least one reader." Trish laughs. "I suspect my sister and mother would each buy a copy, if not to support me, to see what I've included about them." She adds on as a joke, as the glint of humour in her eye would suggest. But she has at least given out some more information about herself than she had previous. Now Clark knows that she has a mother, which he could probably have assumed, and a sister.

"It's true. There are plenty of people who are vegetarian and vegan. From what I've read, both have their benefits. And I can certainly understand the various view points people come from. However, in life we all have choices to make, and for the time being? I've decided to remain a carnivore…or should I say an omnivore?"

Tilting her head and adjusting her purse slightly, she looks at Clark with curiosity. "Sure. What is it?"

* * *

Clark looks at Trish and he chuckles a little bit. "Are you close to your mother and sister? I…" he goes quiet. "Aplogize if thats much too perosnal a question, but it seems to beg the question." Given, he has no idea, whether by assocation or fame, who Trish's immediate family is. He's not quite up to date on the entire celebrity list in the world. But he does smile a little bit to her.

"I don't know, I've always considered that adhering to a strict diet like that doesn't provide all the nutrients we need, just like doing…say, eating JUST meet wouldn't provide the nutrients that vegetables or similar natural products would provide. But, some people can't have one instead of both, so this is how these ways of life began but…ah, I'm not a master of produce and careful dietary choices." Clark laughs.

Then she gives him permission to ask.

A deep breath. Here goes. "I'm curious if this is a date or merely a social time together as friends."

* * *

"Closer to my sister than mother." Trish states rather simply, though she doesn't expand on it for the time being. "But I'm sure both would be curious about what I'd have to say about them." Or more to the point, especially in the case of her sister, what she doesn't say.

"Oh, there's plenty of ways to get what you need with any diet. Some of them you may need to be a bit more creative, but a little creativity never hurt a soul." She smiles softly.

The host calls for them and leads them to their table, allowing Trish to give a bit of a pause before answering the question posed to her.

Once seated and menus given, she takes a deep breath and looks across the table. "Um…well, I'm not sure what we'd label this. I had a pleasant enough time when we first met, I figured it would be nice to get to know each other a bit more. Do…do we need to label this one way or the other?" She sighs. "I'm sorry, I'm not making the answer easy." She pauses for a moment before saying, "I'd definitely like us to be friends." She says softly. "And if anything more comes of it, then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Does that sound okay to you?" She nearly winces. She hopes she hasn't just made this more awkward.

* * *

"I understand that. I don't have any siblings, or any that I'm aware of. But I'm very close with my parents. I don't know how it feels to have a relationship with a sibling, especially a good one, but I have a friend who I consider a brother to me." Clark explains the reason for his sympathy.

"Fair enough, but…Ah, we may agree to disagree on that. I grew up on a farm, so I guess thats just how I think about it. But, maybe I'll do some extra reading, yeah?" Clark isn't unreasonable. Unlike many others on the planet, he's willing to see the other side of the argument before he settles in deep in his soil, so to speak.

But then it is time to eat! When they reach their table, Clark pulls out the chair for her, and when she is sat, he pushes it in. THEN he takes his seat. When Trish starts to talk about it, Clark seems to smile to her.

"Hey.." He reaches across the table, perhaps to rest his hand on hers for a brief moment, if she allows. "Take a breath." He does the same. "Its okay. Lets do just that. I was just curious." Clark smiles to her, and it seems a look of comfort crosses his features as he looks over the menu.

* * *

"Agree to disagree it is." Trish nods. Not a bad way for a discussion to go, really.

She offers him a tiny smile and a nod to go along with it. "Sounds good to me." She clears her throat. "Now, food. Sounds like the steak is the route you're going." She offers a little chuckle. "Let's see what catches my fancy, hmm?" She looks over her menu and seems to study it thoroughly. "You know what looks good?" She smiles widely. "I think I'm going to have the…chicken cordon bleu. And maybe a white wine? One glass over lunch won't do any harm." She chuckles softly.

* * *

Clark gives a pleasant nod to Trish before he looks back at his menu. Though what he's also doing is -listening-. But perhaps for better or for worse, there is no cries for help. Just people out there living their lives in every variety that it can be lived.

So instead, he decides to mute the noise for just a little bit so he can enjoy his dinner date-not-date with Trish.

"They have the Ribeye, I suppose I know what I would like. Maybe a Ribeye with a caesar salad and some mashed potatoes." Definitely a feast-worthy meal!

"Heh, the chicken cordon blue. I remember making a cheap recipe with my mother. I think you'd like her. But, I believe some wine would be nice.'

Clark doesn't drink except for very formal occasions, but he considers this a fine exception.

* * *

"Sounds like a good meal to me." Trish smiles. "I'm sure you'll enjoy it quite a bit. They've got a good reputation here." She says as she looks around. "Of course, I wouldn't bring anyone here if it didn't. I never go anywhere that doesn't have good food…well, unless it's my first time at the place and I have no clue about the food quality." She grins.

"I'll admit, I've never been much of a cook." She tells him. "So I envy you and your mother being able to make it yourselves!" She glances back at the menu. "It is delicious." She nods. "It's settled, the chicken cordon bleu with Cesar salad, I think."

Putting down her menu, she focuses on Clark again. "So, um…does your work bring you to New York often, then?" She asks curiously. "I only ask because, well, New York and Metropolis aren't exactly right next to each other."

* * *

Clark smirks just a little bit at Trish. "Well, then I guess I must follow your sound advice then. You definitely don't seem the type to tell a falsehood out of hand." He winks at her, knowing his words were exagerattingly formal, but he stated that he trust her. "I can always teach you, if you want. Its actually really fun and relaxing after a stressful day….unless you start burning things, then its not very helpful at all."

A chuckle after his words, perhaps he knows exactly what he's talking about? Bad memory at that perhaps?

"Usually it does, yes. Either there's a story here that needs doing or I have a friend that needs visiting or just to take in the sights." He doesn't mention ANYTHING about Superman, in which he's found himself coming around here often to observe the happenings of the Registration.

"What about you? Do you come to Metropolis often?"

* * *

"Are you sure you'd want to try? I don't know how teachable I am when it comes to cooking." Trish smirks. "I'd probably be the one who starts burning things and then suggest we just order the food." She laughs. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I guess I can make the simple stuff. Peanut and jelly sandwiches, pasta, cereal." She laughs again. "But nothing fancy."

Their waiter arrives to take their order. She orders her chicken cordon bleu with salad and her glass of wine, and then motions for Clark to order.

Once the waiter leaves, she returns to the conversation, and the question of her ever going to Metropolis. She shrugs and lifts her hand, holding her index finger and thumb close together. "A little bit. Every now and then. Sometimes there's a person I want to interview there who can't make it to New York, or there's something I want to research first hand. That sort of thing." She explains.

* * *

"I don't see why not? I mean, we all have to start somewhere. Even me. Even my parents. Best chef in the world was once done fumbling about." Clark smiles to her with warmth. "I mean, ordering food like pizza isn?t a bad thing, mind you. But trust me when I say it is very satisfying when you successfully make a meal you would find in a restaurant."

He smiles, then the waiter arrives, and after Trish finishes her order, Clark begins his own: Ribeye steak, cooked medium-rare with Caesar salad and mashed potatoes. He also orders himself some red wine.

To Trish, he listens on her words about Metropolis. "Seems we have similar reasons for travel. Speaking of which…are you adventurous at all?"

* * *

"Well, I'll definitely have to take your word for it for the time being." Trish says with a shake of her head. "Because until I get any better at it, I'll be sticking to the basics. But who knows what my culinary future has in store, hmm?"

She smiles and nods. "It's true. But then, we're in, well, similar professions. Not exactly the same, but similar enough." She raises an eyebrow questioningly. "Adventurous? Depends. Adventurous how?"

* * *

Clark seems wildly amused. "Fair enough. I can offer a cook book or several if you like?" He teases her, but Clark seems to look curious when Trish asks for his own specifics on the word 'adventurous'.

"Well, You know, Like traveling? new experiences? new sights?" It was difficult to explain. "You know, adventure!"

* * *

"If you have a Cooking for Dummies book, that would certainly come in handy!" Trish fires back in reply, chuckling along. "It's going to take quite a bit before I get anywhere near good enough in a kitchen to be considered decent."

She shakes her head. "I know there are multiple ways to be adventurous, but I was wondering if you had a specific reason for asking, a specific example of being adventurous that you perhaps wanted to suggest?" She chuckles. "Because I can be adventurous, but I'm not always keen on every kind of adventure."

At that, the waiter brings their food and drink. The meal takes over most of the conversation. Near the end of the meal, Trish gets a call. After hanging up, she sighs. "Looks like I'm going to have to dine and dash, as it is." She sifts through her purse and takes out money to pay for the bill. "Work's calling me back in for a meeting, I'm afraid. But it was really nice seeing you again. Don't be a strange now, ya hear!" She grins, gives a little wave as she leaves.

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