Or, it would have been a good afternoon if Max hadn't felt that walking to the grocery store was probably not a good idea around now and was instead crouched up on a rooftop in full Batwoman suit. Which was hot even in this weather due to the sun.
She wasn't too used to being out during the day, but it did happen sometimes and she wanted to be available as often as possible here. Still. Not the best day she'd had.
Oh, I don't think I've properly spazzed at your EXCELLENT taste in playing Max. /does solowkeyinaminorNovember 18 2011, 05:27:48 UTC
Loki was far from being on the same level as Cassandra, or, say, Tim, but being the central figure in the bloody yet popular pastime of Loki-football had given him some skill when it came to spotting skulking figures.
He thought he recognized the figure as something familiar, a figure from one of the network posts...he wasn't sure, but it was worth investigating, if only because then he'd know. Not knowing things was one of his least favorite things.
He considered his options. The streets seemed empty enough and he knew how to run. And so it was that Loki Laufeyson cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, "Hello, skulking rooftop lurker!"
:D thanks! I adore her. futurebatwomanNovember 18 2011, 06:24:17 UTC
Max blinked and looked down. Huh. That was... not the usual way people greeted her. She'd heard everything from "It's Batwoman, thank god!" to "It's Batwoman, run!" to "It's Batwoman, open fire!" and all the many variations inbetween, but this was admittedly pretty new. And new things were always interesting.
She stood up and tipped off the side of the building, opening her wings just enough to glide down to the street in front of him.
"You called?" she asked, assessing the - well, he wasn't much more than a kid - in front of her. "Though I have to say that's neither my name or any of the more colorful variations I've heard so far."
"I thought it would serve to get your attention." And he thought for a moment, and then...yes. He brightened, remembering. "You posted to the network recently, did you not? About the angry mob forming and offering your assistance."
Late to all the things, these daysthelaughingmageNovember 19 2011, 06:24:38 UTC
Some days this place just gave him a fucking headache.
John leaned back on a park bench, long legs stretched before him and his hands bridged over his temples, hating the world at large. He was very good at it. He'd had decades of practice, though unfortunately he had yet to succeed in killing people solely with his mind.
Mass stupidity always put him in a foul temper, which might explain why his foul tempers were so pervasive. He'd have to do something about this one, though. Riots didn't fuss him--Londoner--but when they were pointed in his direction, it became a bit different. He was all too susceptible to death by angry mob.
Fashionably later, so we match.lowkeyinaminorNovember 22 2011, 21:59:28 UTC
Unbeknownst to both parties, Loki's thoughts echoed John's own in...well, at least the important parts: he was used to being hated, but having proactive hate being pointed at him wasn't comforting.
There were many ways he could approach this...he could gingerly approach the stranger, feed him a sob story, perhaps appeal to his feelings of Import Unity. But he decided to go with his instincts, instead.
This entailed flopping down on the other end of the bench with a cheerful, "Oh, hello! I hope you don't mind...I believe I've seen you about and given the current climate I'd, ah, rather not risk sitting with the locals."
After the turkey coma passes...thelaughingmageNovember 26 2011, 06:08:08 UTC
"Help yourself. 'S a public bench."
So it was to be that sort of day. John delved into his pockets for a cigarette. Not that he ever needed an excuse, but the universe had some unique ways of saying, 'Smoke 'em if you've got 'em.' "Wot brings the Lord of Liars around to ask if this seat's taken?"
We went for crab. Delicious.lowkeyinaminorNovember 26 2011, 06:20:18 UTC
"So you do know who I am. I suppose I should skip the introduction." There seemed to be two types of people in Midgard: those who instantly recognized him, and those who didn't. A simple binary, really, but the complication being that the people who tended to fall in category one tended to have pre-existing knowledge, assumptions, and possible embarrassing information.
"I thought it was polite to ask opposed to simply taking it. And after spending some time with that angry mob of mortals I felt as though I should seek the company of my fellow imports instead."
Comments 26
Or, it would have been a good afternoon if Max hadn't felt that walking to the grocery store was probably not a good idea around now and was instead crouched up on a rooftop in full Batwoman suit. Which was hot even in this weather due to the sun.
She wasn't too used to being out during the day, but it did happen sometimes and she wanted to be available as often as possible here. Still. Not the best day she'd had.
Reply
He thought he recognized the figure as something familiar, a figure from one of the network posts...he wasn't sure, but it was worth investigating, if only because then he'd know. Not knowing things was one of his least favorite things.
He considered his options. The streets seemed empty enough and he knew how to run. And so it was that Loki Laufeyson cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, "Hello, skulking rooftop lurker!"
Reply
She stood up and tipped off the side of the building, opening her wings just enough to glide down to the street in front of him.
"You called?" she asked, assessing the - well, he wasn't much more than a kid - in front of her. "Though I have to say that's neither my name or any of the more colorful variations I've heard so far."
Reply
Reply
John leaned back on a park bench, long legs stretched before him and his hands bridged over his temples, hating the world at large. He was very good at it. He'd had decades of practice, though unfortunately he had yet to succeed in killing people solely with his mind.
Mass stupidity always put him in a foul temper, which might explain why his foul tempers were so pervasive. He'd have to do something about this one, though. Riots didn't fuss him--Londoner--but when they were pointed in his direction, it became a bit different. He was all too susceptible to death by angry mob.
Reply
There were many ways he could approach this...he could gingerly approach the stranger, feed him a sob story, perhaps appeal to his feelings of Import Unity. But he decided to go with his instincts, instead.
This entailed flopping down on the other end of the bench with a cheerful, "Oh, hello! I hope you don't mind...I believe I've seen you about and given the current climate I'd, ah, rather not risk sitting with the locals."
Reply
So it was to be that sort of day. John delved into his pockets for a cigarette. Not that he ever needed an excuse, but the universe had some unique ways of saying, 'Smoke 'em if you've got 'em.' "Wot brings the Lord of Liars around to ask if this seat's taken?"
Reply
"I thought it was polite to ask opposed to simply taking it. And after spending some time with that angry mob of mortals I felt as though I should seek the company of my fellow imports instead."
Reply
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