2006-07-17

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It's been a while since Shayera did this sort of thing - which is understandable; there's the Chicago PD and the JLA and now her regular patrols with Katar, and she'd be the first person to say that she's not a very social person to begin with. But it's just been too long now, and too much has changed to put this off any longer, even if she wanted to.

She considers just dropping by, but Diana is staying with John and she doesn't want to interrupt anything (well, actually, that might be kind of funny... but no, she'll give them a break) so when she's in the air abour twenty minutes away from John's place, she clicks on her communicator.

"Diana, it's Shay."

In the Capecon Dealer's Room:

In one corner of the dealer's room is the Bat-Booth, dedicated to the urban legend himself, the Batman, overseen by an older man with long straight greasy hair.

Dozens of books about the Batman and related theories are gilded by plush dolls, sketches, and action figures of Batman in a wide range of colors, including a rainbow-striped figure, Bat-dogs, Bat-women, Batmobiles, Robins, Bat-gear (such as Bat-cuffs, batarangs, and shark-repellent batspray), and many other items beyond.

Behind him, in a glass case, is a suit that is labeled as an "Authentic recreation" of the "real Batsuit."

Gotham. After dark.

The arrangement had come by way of a curt phone call: "The roof. Midnight."

She's been here for a few minutes already, a thumb dog-earing the manila folder in her hand. Huntress appears to radiate a dark, level intensity in the darkness that's surpassed by few.

In reality, she's nervous as hell.