Change on the wind |:| Citta Open
Sector Six, Barbara noted mentally. As unique as all the other sectors are- it seems to me that they only ostensibly have things in common being in the same city. How bizarre.
It sure would be nice to have a house around here. That way at least there would be a semblance of privacy…
Between Districts and Sectors and Complexes it was a wonder she ever found her way back to her bed last night. She didn’t know how regular people did it. If not for her long shifts spent traversing the streets of Gotham in the dead of night she wouldn’t be equipped for this kind of demanding navigation.
Then again, wise people would probably stay put in their own Districts. Barbara, though, was nothing if not thorough. At the moment (and much to her dismay) she didn’t have a working computer, or she would just hack her way into understanding the lay of the land and the inhabitants of this grand experiment. But as it were, she was going to have to get down and dirty and do the investigating for herself. How else was she going to know what she was up against? It was clear not everyone in this city needed protecting (she eyed people with strange abilities she’d never dreamed of warily), but for those who did she planned to be more than available.
If there was anything Barb knew, it was that crime existed everywhere. And with no apparent form of law enforcement in Hive City, she expected she would be needed just that much more.
Looking up, she noticed the rain had started up again. She smiled a little, to herself, before quickening her step and keeping an eye out for shelter. She caught sight of a covered bench which a figure already occupied half of, and hesitated slightly. It was merely a momentary pause, though, before she ran all the way to the bench and sat down next to the larger man. If nothing else, she figured she could outrun him, should he turn out to be belligerent.
"Hey," she began, laughing a little breathlessly. Regardless of first impressions, her initial behavior towards someone she didn’t know was almost without exception amicable. "Good thing we’re waterproof, right?"
"I’m Barbara Gordon. And you are?" she asked, telescoping her hand to the stranger.
'Great, just when I thought I could have at least a somewhat dry walk back.' The patter of rain became a louder noise in his ears even as he glared angrily into the open air, his melancholy feeling quickly becoming a company with a frustrated knot in the pit of his stomach. Things just didn't want to go his way these days, it seemed. Though it wasn't like he could do much about it, what with the whole 'being trapped here for whatever reason'.
Along with the sound of cold water hitting the grass and concrete, another noise came to his attention. With a glance, he watched out of the corner of his eye as a woman dashed through the rain. His previous thoughts were quickly confirmed as she jogged towards the solitary bench he was occupying half of, breathlessly dropping onto the other side. Well, it's not like he could be surprised. He'd done the exact same thing earlier himself.
He couldn't help but watch from his peripheral vision. Curious, since he hadn't encountered many people in the city who were actually normal. Hell, once he even talked to a dragon; that was terrifying but awesome at the same time, but that's another story. Still, she seemed at least relatively normal, at least, by his standards. But as they say, don't judge a book by the cover.
When she spoke, clearly addressing him, he pushed his thoughts aside, turning his head to look at her fully. No need to be rude, he thought. Though it was slightly odd to randomly pick up a conversation with a stranger just because the rain drove you to the same bench. Eh, sometimes things happen that way, he guessed.
"Not so much waterproof as much as slightly water resistant." The sixteen year-old said with a brief, exasperated look at the still mild gray sky. The wind was blowing, but it didn't seem like the weather would clear up until later. Great. "Won't be passing very fast by the looks of it either."
With a self directed sigh, he shrugged, looking back at the woman and forced his voice to sound a little less aggressive than it usually did, but his expression was as rough as it ever was.
"Name's Ryuji Suguro." He responded with a nod, hesitating a moment before pulling a warm hand from his jacket pocket, offering it to the woman for a handshake. Albeit a little awkwardly.
He's not exactly what you'd call a social butterfly.
