Extra Info: - Her scythe’s are retractable. Modern age it’s hard to work with them. So she has hands and the scythe’s “slip out” - Scythe’s are made of a flimsy chitin so they can go easily inside the top of wrists. Not as strong and hardy as standard, but still sharp. - Her pants and skirt are not part of body, but clothing. Because I want to dress her up.
She can change colors!! These are just her “natural” or “default” colors. I’m having fun with her heehoo~
More Olivia content but I drew her in different colors cuz she can do that
Fun Facts- She might change her colors to something obnoxious to keep people away from her if they annoy her too much and her diet mainly consists of raw organs (not bloody). She’ll eat other things but she needs to eat raw organs a lot as part of a healthy diet for her No they aren’t people organs but that prolly doesn’t make it less unsettling
Summary: When Superman died, Martha lost her son and her home. A friendly neighbor, Sage, took her in and cared for her when she got sick. Clark makes a difficult decision to return home to the Kent farm after breaking up with Lois. Can Sage convince him it was the right decision? Can he show her that running from her past isn’t her only option?
The smell of barley and wheat grew stronger the closer the truck took him to his childhood home. Hickory Lane was as bumpy as ever, and the lack of change made Clark smile. It was nice to know some things remained as they had always been. He thumbed a tune against the side of the door, arm hanging out the open window, his happy mood increasing with each rotation of the wheels. As uneven as the dirt road was, he barely felt it. The new Ford pickup truck, courtesy of Bruce Wayne, was top of the line, and Clark looked forward to using it to its full potential on the Kent Farm.
Dusty heard the truck arrive and pushed the screen door open to stand guard on the porch, barking at the unknown visitor.
“Hey boy,” Clark called, jumping out of the vehicle and walking to meet the happy dog.
The screen door squeaked again - he’d have to fix that - and he looked away from the overzealous dog to see his mother, followed by an auburn-haired woman, walk onto the porch.
“Clark!” Martha said, smiling happily but with a hint of inconvenience in her tone, “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
His mother wasn’t getting any younger, and he wanted to be there for her in her twilight years to help run the farm. Since Bruce had brought it for them, there was no financial incentive to keep it going. Now, it was simply for the love of what their family had built.
He jogged the distance to the porch and met his mother as she reached the bottom step.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he told her, enveloping her in a hug.
