(Untitled)

[redlyreflecting]

WHO: OPEN
WHAT: unauthorized vigilantism... sort of
WHERE: around Manhattan
WHEN: evening
WARNINGS: nope
SUMMARY: Talon!Tim needs money. Time to roll some drug dealers! GET A JOB WHAT'S THAT.

Comments

edited becase I hit enter too soon argh

[iam_ironmaiden]

If he listens very very carefully he'll hear the click-clack of heels on the pavement and the dull sound of music being played much too loud on someone's headphones. How Toni Stark is not deaf from listening to swing music at those volumes on earbuds is unfathomable, really.

She's been taking her time better the lay of the land, scoping out businesses and trying to get an idea of what the economy here is like. She wants to get home but to get home she needs technology and to get technology she needs money and to get and keep money she needs to know where to invest it once she has some starting funds. A day of reasearch in the library pretty much went down the tubes in her opinion now she's headed home.

She paused just before the mouth of and alley to switch between songs, looking around in the fading light to get her bearings and... oh, hey, there was someone who might know.

"Hey! You! Do you know what time it is?"

[redlyreflecting]

Somebody was coming, so Tim removed the muffler and shoved it in his pocket, replacing the hat at a stupid angle and grabbing a bottle in a paper bag off the ground. Not the most ideal cover for 'why the fuck are you hanging around in an alleyway', but maybe they'd pass him by.

—No such luck. He checked the watch he'd taken off the dealer. It was a little big for his wrist and he steadied it with his other hand to keep it from slipping around, deliberately fumbling with the bottle.

"7:34," he answered after a moment of apparently drunken struggling with the numbers, then turned a sheepish smile on the woman.

and I fail at remembering what tags i owe. school diaf argh I'm sorry!

[iam_ironmaiden]

Toni eyed the man curiously, something in her gut pinging off 'this is not right'.

"Funny. It looks like a drunk, and it talks like a drunk." she took a step closer to him. "Doesn't smell like a drunk though..."

/NEVER FORGIVES

[redlyreflecting]

"Isn't that really just a point in my favor?" Tim asked winningly, flashing his best for-the-teacher-and-or-best-friend's-mother smile.

Now that she was closer he could recognize her as Natasha Stark ('Toni'), from the archives of the network. This was good, or bad. It just depended how it played through.

If you don't want mulitiple threads, lemme know! <3

[peektuttut]

With the crappy clothes he'd been given upon arrival and a pair of sunglasses he'd found (he'd thought the No Man's Land would be the last of his dumpster diving days), Tim had been setting out at various times to wander the city. His story was a job hunt; and while that was partially true, he was mostly wandering the city to learn its layout.

He almost wished Dick was around, just so he'd have a better idea of the city - and if it differed at all from the New York back home.

Tim was just ducking down an alley - looking for a fire scape to get onto the roof by - when he realized the alley wasn't empty. He couldn't see the body from where he stood at the mouth, but he did see the other, standing figure. Tim nodded toward him, but said nothing, heading for the fire escape ladder near the dumpster.

do want!

[redlyreflecting]

Sunglasses weren't quite enough to keep Tim from recognizing himself, and when he nodded, he kept his head down. The muffler was down around his neck now, but pulling it up wouldn't help matters; it was May, there was no need for anyone to wear that kind of clothing in New York unless, of course, they were hanging around in an alley mugging people. He moved around the corner quickly and started crossing the street, anything to get some distance between himself and, uh, himself. Maybe he wouldn't notice the body. Yeah, maybe the guy taught by the world's greatest detective wouldn't notice the body. Tim increased his pace. Public place. Stick to a public place. Why was he so afraid?

\o/

[peektuttut]

Bodies didn't blend in with trash all that well. Tim watched the other figure leave the alley from the corner of his eye - for his own safety, of course, not because something struck him as weird about this. That was just ridiculous.

When the other boy was out of sight, Tim continued toward the ladder, reaching up to pull it down as he rounded the dumpster. He froze for a hot second, spotting the body, and stooped to check for breath. When he felt the man breathing again, Tim rose and turned on his heel, jogging to the end of the alley, roof forgotten.

"Hey!" He shouted when he spotted that weirdly familiar retreating figure, glancing down the street to avoid traffic as he followed.

[redlyreflecting]

Jesus. Owlman would kill him. No, damnit, he didn't have to think about Owlman anymore. He kept his quick pace without looking back, reaching the other side of the street and realizing, belatedly, that there was very little chance of shaking Tim. Not if he was anything like himself. But he'd run like he was guilty (well, he was guilty), and now he'd have a hell of a time convincing Tim otherwise.

No, he could swing this, but only if he stopped now, which he did, reluctantly, and turned to face his pursuer. He even took the hat off, fussily finger-combing out his hair so it wasn't all squashed-looking. Let his face stop Tim, and then they'd talk.