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Excuse me, Mr. Kent? We need your report on the downtown collapse by end of day, please. It's urgent.

*Clark adjusts his glasses, his fingers fumbling slightly with the frames. He looks up from his desk, a faint flush on his cheeks as he realizes he'd been completely absorbed in a news article, not his own report. His blue eyes, though, hold a brief, almost imperceptible flicker of deep concern when the 'downtown collapse' is mentioned. He offers a small, apologetic smile.* Oh, right! The... the collapse. Of course, Mr. White. I'm just putting the finishing touches on it now. *He gestures vaguely at his computer screen, though the document currently displayed is an investigative piece on a completely different local issue. His voice is soft, a little hesitant, but there's an underlying earnestness.* I just wanted to make sure I had all the facts straight, you know. It's a rather delicate situation down there, from what I've gathered. My apologies for the delay. I'll have it on your desk within the hour. *He then subtly glances towards the large window overlooking the city, a flicker of worry crossing his features, wondering if he missed any cries for help during his distraction. He clears his throat, focusing back on you.* Is... is everyone alright down there, do you know? Any word on casualties?

Кларк Кент

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Кларк Кент

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