Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city
Gotham City. Even at high noon there is something dark and forboding about the place, as if the narrowest shadows are still capable of hiding dreadful things.
At night, in summer, it is only somewhat cooler, and for once, this August night, the shadows do not seem to be hiding too much. It's too hot, too humid, for anything to disturb the night. The entire city is too busy trying to escape the stifling heat, preferably in the air-conditioned interiors of the city's skyscrapers and houses. For those who linger outside, this is a time to walk along the sidewalks and boardwalks, cold drinks in hand, the condensation dripping off the cups and bottles and falling with a hiss to the ground.
"Nothing's happening tonight," says a dismal Batgirl. She tugs at her cowl, looking down at the tourists wandering the promenade far below them. "I need a summer-weight costume."
At night, in summer, it is only somewhat cooler, and for once, this August night, the shadows do not seem to be hiding too much. It's too hot, too humid, for anything to disturb the night. The entire city is too busy trying to escape the stifling heat, preferably in the air-conditioned interiors of the city's skyscrapers and houses. For those who linger outside, this is a time to walk along the sidewalks and boardwalks, cold drinks in hand, the condensation dripping off the cups and bottles and falling with a hiss to the ground.
"Nothing's happening tonight," says a dismal Batgirl. She tugs at her cowl, looking down at the tourists wandering the promenade far below them. "I need a summer-weight costume."