<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/TxRLbsD.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Lor Zod<br/>(Optional)<strong>WEARING:</strong>Kryptonian Battle Armor<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>August 26, 2020<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>11:30<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Secret Sanctuary Meeting Room<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Zod Brought A Cake<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Open, Vixen, Icon, XIII<br/><hr/><br/>Zod cocked his head just slightly when he heard the approach of Artemis. He felt an impulse to rise and meet her, but Zod resisted it. Nevertheless, he felt it. It pleased him when she joined the group, and more when she approached him over the others. Did he puff his chest out just a little bit? Maybe. Just maybe. He returned her wave with a languid wave of his own. Perhaps the corners of his lips turned up just so, but the brief facsimile of a smile was short lived.<strong>"This is as much for you as for anyone, Artemis."</strong>Zod said quietly in response to her half-joking, half-serious question.<strong>"Please, have a seat."</strong>He pulled out a chair next to him for the female archer to sit in.<br/><br/>The sensation of Vixen's aura was vexing, and its cloying effect did to Zod what Vixen desired. He might have tried to resist it, but he chose not to expend the effort to do.<br/><br/><strong>"Do not misunderstand me, Vixen. My ire is directed at CADMUS, not its victims."</strong>The Kryptonian said without any levity. (http://[color=red]"Superman needs to know."[/color]) Zod further added, without disclosing the specifics of<em>why</em>. He looked at XIII once more, feeling only pity for the being. XIII had no hand in his own creation.<br/><br/>Zod let out a low breath and the light faded from his eyes. They returned to his normal.<br/><br/>The Kryptonian composed himself to address Gus and what Zod perceived as deliberate disrespect. He turned his head and faced the Icon, stoic-faced and grim.<strong>"You may address me as Lor Zod or Zod."</strong>The huge Kryptonian said, standing up for himself in no uncertain terms. But he was making an effort not to cause too much friction with his team members. In all honesty, Zod did want to clobber the Icon - to take his smart mouth and smash every tooth within in and impress upon the Icon that he should Zod some respect and put some respect on the name of Zod when it was spoken. But Zod had the discipline of the military caste and the ability to put unit cohesion as a higher priority to avenging personal slights. It was of little consequence that Zod was taking what the Icon said in a way it was not intended - his feelings were still his feelings.<br/><br/>Zod pursed his lips, and then frowned.<strong>"Look at him."</strong>He dipped his head to XIII.<strong>"Look at the pleasure the piece of cake gives him. This is probably the first time he has eaten real food. It was the same for me, when I had my first meal."</strong>Zod admitted, ashamed and uneasy.<strong>"I was conceived and born in the Phantom Zone. I grew to maturity there. There is nothing to eat there. The Zone sustains. I experienced <em>nothing</em> but the emptiness of the Zone  for the the first eighteen years of my life. Then I emerged into this world. After the Justice League forced my father to flee, and I was defeated, I was incarcerated in Blackgate. Amanda Waller thought to break me to her will with simulated red sunlight and exposure to authentic and synthetic green Kryptonite. But when those measures failed . . . they tried a more insidious tack."</strong><br/><br/>And Zod gestured at the cake.<strong>"Where hardship and deprivations failed, luxury succeeded. I agreed to work for Waller's Task Force X in exchange for the finest foods Earth as to offer. I ate meals fit for an emperor if only I would turn my fist against targets of Waller's choosing."</strong>Zod shook his head and could not meet anyone's eyes. He did not look so proud and so arrogant.<br/><br/><strong>"Eating such fare reminds me of my weakness. I am a member of Krypton's military caste. I must be free from all weakness."</strong>Zod said, mostly to himself. What would his father think of him if he returned and learned of what lows his son had stooped to? Lor could only imagine that his father would disown him and strip him of name, excommunicating him from the House of Zod.<br/><br/>Zod closed his mouth, and no longer felt pleased with himself. Not pleased at all.