"New Year's resolution?"
Scott nodded, "that was my reaction, too. Oberon explained it to me after I asked."
Barda thinned the corner of her lip, "and just what is it?"
Scott sat down and grabbed the remote for the TV, "so there's this sort of universal tradition on Earth…." Scott said as he turned on the television, noting Barda rolling her eyes at the word 'universal', "where every new year is a sign of a new path of life."
The image on the TV screen showed a big gathering at Gotham City, a giant silver ball being lowered onto a stage as a clock in the lower corner began counting down. Three minutes, it said. Scott continued, "so they come up with these New Year's resolutions. Basically a set of goals to live by for the new year. There's a lot of articles and information about it on their little datanet."
He then cleared his throat, getting to the point, "so my resolution… is to celebrate all twelve major holidays on Earth this year."
He spread his arms out, as if waiting for an applause, only to receive a confused silence from his wife.
"I don't get it."
Now it was Scott's turn to be confused. He lowered his arms as Barda looked at him with a raised brow "what makes these resolutions so special?" she asked, completely unimpressed, "I mean, a year is barely a blip compared to our literal countless millennia of life."
Scott seemed to pause, forming an answer in his head before sputtering it out, "well, I mean… humans don't live as long as us." He finally answered, scratching the back of his head, "they aren't immortal. They don't live to see the eons roll by like we do. They live for a century at most."
He stood up, getting really into it, "So every year they try to cherish what little time they have by improving themselves in some way, big or small."
Barda put a hand on her chin in contemplation. She hadn't really thought of it that way and Scott did make a good point. Of course, there was something she didn't get, "why now?" she asked, removing her hand from her face, "it feels so… sudden."
Scott walked up to her, the height difference between them very notable, "Barda, we've been on Earth for a while now, and I feel like we haven't really accepted that," he intoned, cupping her chin as he looked up at her, "we live here, but it feels like we don't live here, you get what I'm saying?"
"Superman lives here," Barda responded, "he seems adapted."
"Well, he was here for his whole life," Scott retorted, "maybe we can go to him for help celebrating."
She slightly pouted, "I don't know, Scott," she muttered, "I just don't see what's so special about these… holidays."
Her husband shrugged, "I just thought it'd be a little fun to participate in some Earth culture, you know? Get to know this world a bit more," he shrugged, slumping back onto the couch, "and if that means participating in their festivities, then so be it."
He turned back to the screen as did Barda. The countdown said around a minute and a half or so. The news reporter was talking with some random celebrity they never heard of, talking about, what else? Their resolutions and plans for the next year.
Barda had to admit, the more this was talked about, the more engrossed she was in the idea. Her husband's staunch enthusiasm about the idea certainly helped ease her in. It was true, they have been living in this world for a while, but they never bothered getting in touch with it beyond the basics and what Oberon could show. And even then, since they ran a traveling show, they were never in one place for too long, denying them a chance to truly absorb the lifestyle of Earth via social and cultural osmosis.
Perhaps Scott was always interested in this idea, but was always denied the chance until finally putting his foot down on this matter now that Oberon's finally retired from the show and they have a house to settle in?
She had to admit, from his perspective, it would be maddening.
And it got her thinking. There were no real holidays on Apokolips. Beyond random days where the slaves were forced to speak reverence to that monster Darkseid with just a bit more effort anyways. It was yet another tactic in a long, galaxy-sized list of ways to break one's spirit and become submissive to his ways…
She looked away from the screen and to Scott, who was so thoroughly engrossed in what was happening. A small upwards curve formed on her lips. Yes, now she was feeling his excitement just a little bit.
Eventually, after much consideration, she conceded, "Ok, Scott," she whispered, sitting down next to him, "I'll join in on your little resolution."
Scott flashed a smile brighter than any star in the universe and hugged his wife so tightly, he probably could have cracked a neutron star, topping it with a nice little kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, love."
Barda only smiled in response, her eyes then glancing at the television screen once more. The audience was shouting down the last ten seconds left on the clock. Funny how a few seconds suddenly felt like an eternity.
"Five!"
"Four!"
"Three!"
"Two!"
"One!"
"Happy New Year!"
The crowd abruptly went into an infectious cheer. Confetti erupted and blew into the air, hats were tossed, and fireworks went off, lighting up the darkness of Gotham's seemingly eternal night. Barda had to admit that her lips curved upwards seeing a display of pure celebration and joy.
Scott leaned his head to her shoulder, "Happy New Year, Barda."
She raised a brow in slight confusion over that saying, but nonetheless, she said it back, "Happy... New Year, Scott."
Maybe this little experiment could be fun.
