Ten-finger Johnny on the first day of July
Who: Roy and whoever else wants to go see ABUH wtf was that.
What: BUH. WHAT THE FLIPPING FRACK WAS THAT. Quicklog. Come out and boggle.
When: Just after Bluest blewsome stuff up; predawn.
Where: The rubble formerly known as Blombrenn Laboratory, Industrial District
( He loved the season's grand display of fireworks in the sky~ )
What: BUH. WHAT THE FLIPPING FRACK WAS THAT. Quicklog. Come out and boggle.
When: Just after Bluest blewsome stuff up; predawn.
Where: The rubble formerly known as Blombrenn Laboratory, Industrial District
( He loved the season's grand display of fireworks in the sky~ )
He arrives just in time to see others gathering, and observes from on high. The casual onlooker glancing up should be able to see him, perched on the edge of a neighboring rooftop.
He's not looking at the burning building though. After all, arsonists tended to hang around and observe from a safe distance. He's looking for the ideal vantage point.]
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{No casualties so far.}
and lands it next to the perching bird's foot. He figures it'll be returned later, as he heads across the way to scan from the opposite end of the rubble.]
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He stands, knowing he can leave the search of the rumble to Roy, and besides, Batman, Batgirl and Robin were all likely to be on the scene sooner or later, if they weren't already.
He heads south of the explosion, eyes peeled, nightvision on.]
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Uh, hey.
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Hey.
[He stops again, changing vantage point, fully expecting Peter to pull up alongside. He turns his head and lifts his chin in acknowledgment.]
Your footing on that chimney back there gave you up.
[He's smiling, friendly enough. Robin has been trying to years to sneak up on him and still hasn't managed it, of course, Nightwing was always ready with helpful - if not somewhat lightly teasing - pointers.]
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[He crouches next to Nightwing, hunched over in his traditional pose. He knows that he's not being criticized, so he focuses his attention on the exploded building.]
So, any clues on what's going on?
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Not much to go on.
[But that doesn't stop him from sounding optimistic.]
Arsenal's on the scene, hopefully he'll find something.
[Damn. He narrows his eyes towards the night. There's nothing. But it has looked like arson, and that was what his gut told him. Not one to be swayed easily, he sticks to his original theory, and perhaps the absence of their arsonist just means that they are experienced, and that this was not the random act of some pyromaniac, but instead, someone with intent and a target. He needed to know what was being manufactured in that building.]
Where's BG?
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[It takes him a moment to figure out who he's talking about, then the lightbulb goes on.]
Haven't seen her lately.
...Who's Arsenal?
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A friend. You'll meet him later.
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