The Fourth Flight [Action]
[He had been laying low long enough. If anyone had remembered or realized the connection between the Red Wing symbol and his batsuit, they would have acted by now. Or at least confronted him. He couldn't hide anymore, not when Batman had a job to do. The glance out the window had told him plenty about the weather. Icy, cold, and plenty of snow on the ground. If there was anyone out to commit crimes tonight, they'd have to be either stupid or dedicated. Or both. Terry's thorough examination and check-up on the suit's systems came up the same: the jets on the suit were out of fuel, the cloaking device would take far too much power to activate even for a short time, and the shock-system was on its last legs without a recharge. As it was, he had to divert power from the more random situation systems over to the main power supply. The cowl's vision modes would still work, the batarang launchers could still be loaded and fired, and the synapse controls were in peak condition. But on this night, Terry was especially glad the temperature regulation and insulation was relatively unaffected by the trip into Luceti. He had never been one for the winter, he mused as he climbed out the window, taking in a breath of the chilled night air. Yeah, it would be a good night to go on patrol.
He rolled up the parchment he had acquired from the store, careful not to smudge the careful pencil lines and blueprint-like gridwork he had laid out. Gingerly putting it into a black plastic tube, he slung the tube across his back and pulled on his cowl. The break of the holidays and keeping a low-profile had given him more than enough time to work out a design. Now it was just a matter of finding someone who could make it. Climbing to the top of the house, he gave a quick scan of the area before raising up his arms, the wings snapping out without hesitation.
Leaping into the snowy night, he began his patrol of most of the village, eventually making his way to the smithee in hope of catching a craftsman before they all headed for home.]
He rolled up the parchment he had acquired from the store, careful not to smudge the careful pencil lines and blueprint-like gridwork he had laid out. Gingerly putting it into a black plastic tube, he slung the tube across his back and pulled on his cowl. The break of the holidays and keeping a low-profile had given him more than enough time to work out a design. Now it was just a matter of finding someone who could make it. Climbing to the top of the house, he gave a quick scan of the area before raising up his arms, the wings snapping out without hesitation.
Leaping into the snowy night, he began his patrol of most of the village, eventually making his way to the smithee in hope of catching a craftsman before they all headed for home.]