[closed] Like a storm driven bird at night we came flying out of the nowhere...

[flawedgoods]

Characters: Favrielle & Yelena with Annabeth Chase, Bruce Wayne, Jack Harkness, Kara Thrace, Sir Mandorallen, and Steve Rogers
Location: Earth sector to Water sector for Favrielle, out and about for Yelena
Situation: All kinds of storm-related situations.
Warnings/Rating: None I can think of off-hand, will be marked when/if they arise.

[OOC: Thread starters in the headlines, and yes, they have ridiculous titles. Fight me.]

Comments

GENIUS CLOTHIER SEEKS MAN WITH APPRECIATION FOR WELL MADE AND SYMBOLIC COSTUMES

[flawedgoods]

[It's perhaps the nonchalance of the kedan of the Earth sector that gives Favrielle the false impression that the storm they anticipate will not be all that terrible. At the shop where she works a few hours a day, Favrielle has been picking out materials to be delivered to her suite. Bolts of fabrics, threads, fastenings, the works.

By the time she gets ready to leave, the storm seems to be approaching fast, with the rain falling and the wind blowing harder moment to moment. Hoping to get home before it gets to be too awful, she sets out on the streets and hurries in the direction of her sector, but by the time she makes it into Metal the weather has gotten a great deal worse. She's too stubborn to seek shelter yet, however, believing she can make it there if she just pushes on, and tries to ignore the fact that her clothing is slowly getting soaked through and the wind is getting strong enough to push her off-balance.]

[cowled]

[Bruce is no stranger to storms. After all, Gotham's hit with them on a fairly regular basis, and the idea of staying home hasn't so much as entered his mind. Not when there are people out there that might need him.

And when people need Batman, he answers.

But it's still early enough in the day that the only thing he's concerned about at this point is looting. Winds are picking up and the splatter of rain is starting to pour down (he really needs to find a better way to waterproof his costume than soaking it in linseed oil), making his hair stick to the back of his neck.

It's still strange, not wearing the cowl.

He's about to move on to the next block when he spots Favrielle down in the street. His mouth tugs downward into a frown. In terms of character, he can appreciate her strength and candour, but she's not the sort of person who should be out in a storm. It's not necessarily that she needs protection so much as she's too stubborn to ask for it.

He knows the type, and as she passes by the gargoyle he's perched on, he drops down into the alleyway beside her and steps out onto the street.

Unasked, he holds his cape up to shelter her from the worst of the wind. It's twelve layers of oil-soaked and stiffened fabric, so it's slightly more effective than one might think.]

Where do you live?

[Batman voice on full alert.]

[flawedgoods]

[The man that steps out from the alley takes her by surprise, and for a moment she tenses, worried that he's one of the kedan. The Metal sector isn't known to be particularly safe, after all, though she hasn't had any issues traveling back and forth before.

One look at the offered cloak however, and recognizing that he's one of the foreigners, Favrielle steps forward. It's not a moment too soon, as a particularly chilling gust of wind sweeps her hair up and causes it to fly around her face.

She's seen many strange things since her arrival, and a masked man in unfamiliar garb is hardly the strangest.

There's something about him that tugs at her memory as she moves under the shelter of his cloak, but Favrielle can't quite grasp it, and so she pushes it aside for the moment.]

The Water sector. WA-3A to be exact.

[Grateful for his chivalry, she tucks herself against his side as much as is comfortable for him being a stranger, and attempts to wrap her hair into a bundle by her neck to keep it from obscuring her vision.]

[cowled]

I'll walk you home.

[And. That's pretty much it for conversation. He gathers the edge of his cloak in his hand and keeps his arm around her, not quite touching, cloaking her as much as possible. She's tiny enough that doing so isn't a stretch.]

[flawedgoods]

[Not much of a talker. Well that's fine, Favrielle doesn't have too much to say.]

Thank you, I appreciate it.

[It's a risk, accepting help from a masked stranger, but then the situation is such that it's wiser to do that than refuse and continue to try to make it on her own.]

I hadn't realized the storm would hit so hard so fast.

[She lives inland, where storms are fewer and weaker.]

[cowled]

Despite the land mass, we're technically on the ocean. They can come up faster than you might expect.

[He guides her around a puddle forming on the street, and braces them both against another sudden gust of wind. Almost hurricane-force gales now. The sooner he gets her home the better.]

[flawedgoods]

I will have to keep that in mind the next time we hear of a storm approaching.

[She'll make sure to head home well before it seems as if the winds are picking up. Like now. Elua, she's glad the man stopped to offer her help. The wind is getting stronger and while she manages to step aside from the puddle, the wind still manages to set her off balance, and she bumps into his side.]

My apologies, these winds are stronger than I'm used to.

[cowled]

You don't need to apologize. Lean on me if you need to.

[Since. He's pretty much an immovable object and an unstoppable force all wrapped up in one mortal coil. The gate for the Water sector is up ahead, and the housing complexes aren't too far from here.]

[flawedgoods]

If you're certain you don't mind.

[Favrielle does so almost immediately after, staying close for both shelter and stability.

It's a comfort, though she supposes that's because the man seems to to be close to the same height as Bruce, and it's familiarity that influences the feeling. She held Bruce's arm down the streets of Keeliai once, and supposes it's just now that reminds her of that memory.]

Is what you're wearing meant particularly for weathering storms?

[cowled]

No.

[To the first question, anyway. Bruce reaches up with his free hand to slick his hair back from his forehead (it's getting longer than he likes) before he answers the second.]

Different sort of storm, but yes.

[flawedgoods]

[Looking up, she notices the dark hair he brushes aside, and her lips quirk up ever so slightly. She wonders idly who this masked man is assisting her home. Perhaps when they arrive at her suite she can ask, or he'll stay for a moment to get out of the weather and she could find out then.]

Different how?

[Why yes, she's talking to make the time go faster as they draw nearer to her suite, all while she stays glued to his side to escape the elements.]

[cowled]

[Goodness, Favrielle, can't you just accept that he's working the Tall, Dark and Handsome stereotype and leave it at that?]

Crime.

[flawedgoods]

[She thinks far too much to simply take such things at face value. As a clothier, it's far more interesting to see the details in things and figure out how they are constructed to look and move the way they do. It's much the same with people.]

Crime? You're a guard then? Or a police office like those they have here?

[cowled]

Neither.

[Gruff.]

[flawedgoods]

[Now she's just curious. Tall, Dark, and Handsome is all well and good, but it creates an aura of mystery that at the moment she finds fascinating.]

Not a guard nor a police officer...what then?

[cowled]

Later.

[Except when he says later he really means 'nevermind'.]

[flawedgoods]

[Yep, she sure is being put off, but considering he's doing her a favor unasked, Favrielle's gracious enough not to push. As they turn the corner, another blast of wind hits them, and Favrielle reaches a hand out toward him to steady herself. She can't shake the sense that his build seems familiar, but then she's done work for countless people so it could be anyone, really.]

Of course.

[She gestures ahead.]

That's mine, just down the lane.

[cowled]

[He walks her the rest of the way in silence, and once they're at the door he braces himself against the frame, still shielding her, so she can open it.]

[flawedgoods]

[It would be almost menacing, the way he's looming over her, but for the fact that he's shielding her entirely from the wind and rain. Such thoughtfulness makes the act seem gentlemanly instead, and Favrielle carefully unlocks her door.]

Would you like to come in out of the rain? I can make some tea and you can dry off for a while if you wish.

[cowled]

[But by the time she steps inside, Bruce has already disappeared into the storm.]