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video | un: nightwing96

Who gave me superpowers?!

[The camera flips from Nightwing's masked face around to a doorway. The door is lying on the ground, ripped clean off its hinges because Nightwing was in a hurry.

It's his first Sanguis...]

I'm not Superman! I don't want to be Superman! No offense to the big guy, but I've been working my whole life to perfect my acrobatics, my detective work, my martial arts, and now-- all of that-- is just going to waste?

[He is not Superman, but he's starting to feel like Superboy circa five years ago.]

Whatever. Now I have to figure out the exact extent of this stupid, stupid development so I don't accidentally kill somebody.

Who's got some heavier-duty doors I can rip off? This one is a good standard control. Actually, I have no idea what the control for this experiment would look like, just that I want to be gathering a lot of data.

[In other words, who wants a fight?]

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The kind of jerks who are really spoiling for a fight?

[He's planning to convince a demigoddess to punch him.]

...Are you moving? Sure.

[That's. Actually probably a better idea if he really wants to collect data.]

If there's anything you don't want moved, that you want conveniently smashed to pieces so you have to get rid of it, I'll take that, too.

The kind of jerks who harass waitresses who are just trying to do their jobs and don't want to "earn a tip" following their customers back to their apartments.

[Hmm. That's remarkably specific, Reimi, it's almost like you've got a little personal history with that one...]

I'm not moving, but I run a cafe, so there are always bags of flour and big things of cat litter and stuff to be moved around. I guess that'd probably be a piece of cake for somebody ripping doors off of hinges, though, right?

[That makes his eyebrows lift under the mask.]

The kind of jerks I spend my night job tying up in front the police station, you mean.

[Do you need extra vigilante protection?]

I also have experience chasing down people who dine and dash, but I can definitely help with bags of flour. One might be easy, but I can definitely figure some things out by seeing how many I can move at once.

When's a good time for me to come around? And will the mask scare off your clientele?

Haha, wouldn't that be nice! The bad customers were one of the reasons I got out of my old job, to tell you the truth. I was working the night shift all the time and people got weird. What can you do, though, right? It wasn't like I had any other skills, so waitressing was about the best I could get back then.

[As she speaks, a black cat leaps up onto the table and nudges its way into the frame; given Reimi's reasonably unfazed lack of response, that's probably a commonplace happenstance.]

Well, we're open until five today, and then I'll be here another hour or so getting things in order after close. So it's up to you, but if you want to come by after we close up shop, then it'll be just the cats — no clientele to worry about!

As a night owl myself [haha get it there's a giant bird on his chest], I'm not surprised.

[He chooses not to elaborate, but he does sympathize with feeling like your only skillset is the one you've got. His only real job experience is in the circus, and while he loved the work, it's definitely... different.

...a cat cafe? He's heard of those...]

I'll see you at 5:01, then. I appreciate it.

[Beans! Cat Cafe has been around in the commercial district of Level 2 for — actually, a fair few months now, and while it's not quite at the point of being a community staple yet, it's apparent that business is going well for the little venture. Plenty of people can be seen dotting the street with carry-out cups emblazoned with the paw-print logo of the cafe, and given the number of healthy, satiated cats lounging around in the window, they're evidently able to support plenty of furry friends on the revenues they're making.

(Not bad, for someone who's only just turned nineteen and has never taken a crack at being an entrepreneur before.)

At 5:01, under normal circumstances, Reimi would be at the door locking up to ensure that no straggler business wandered in by mistake after close; today, she leaves it open a while longer because she's expecting her costumed visitor to put in an appearance any minute.

So instead, she busies herself with walking around the tables, picking up the remaining dishware and used napkins from her last round of clients, with a pair of nosy cats following along rubbing at her ankles the whole way.]

[There might have been a shadow on the roof starting about 4:45. It's not that he cased the joint, but he did want to have a good idea of where the doors and windows were. She did say she quit the job where the customers harassed her, but who knows what can happen after hours? He needs to know where the windows are, so if he has to throw somebody across a room, he knows which directions to avoid.

Habit.

Normally, he'd choose a window to enter by, but he is an invited guest today, not an interrogator looking for someone to pump for info, nor is he Batman. So he drops to the ground, walks around to the front door, and knocks like a gentleman who isn't a prowler.

He can see some of the cats through the window, and tries to figure out his thoughts about that. Beyond them looking sweet and well-cared for, at least. Maybe soft, too. People who like cats include Catwoman, Cheshire, and Klarion the Witch Boy-- a cat burglar, an assassin, and a Lord of Chaos. Dick, personally, does not want to give cats a bad rep by association, but those associations...

Then again, one of his best friends is Cheshire's sister and another is her husband. Friendship is complicated.]

You know, if you need help with your books, I'm pretty good with numbers, too...

[Though, that might not be as satisfying as throwing sacks of flour. (He can throw them, right?)]

[Even though she's expecting a guest, she still jumps a little at the sound of the bell jingling — mostly just from how engrossed she'd gotten in her work tidying up. But, when she looks up, there he is — a real costumed hero, tall and broad and even with a mask and everything, and she can't help but break into a warm smile.]

No way. So you save the world and help damsels in distress and you're a volunteer accountant?

[She can't help a bright laugh, even as she stacks up the dishes she's been collecting and shifts them to one hand, trotting over to extend the other for a shake.]

Hi, I'm Reimi. It...just occurred to me that I never actually mentioned my name, when we were talking before!

Well, that's fair, because I'm... still not going to tell you my real name. I go by Nightwing.

[He tries not to feel entirely stupid, because he hasn't really noticed too much need for superheroes, let alone secret identities, just yet. Does Osse count? She might not count.

Still, he laughs a little, when he shakes her hand.]

To be fair, plenty of damsels have saved me in distress.

[Also, he's been in and out of Wayne Enterprises HQ since he was a kid, and had overrides for everything nearly as long. This would be cake...]

The nice thing about math is it always adds up and never changes.

I mean, with a name like Nightwing, why would you ever want to use a real one? That's really catchy!

[It's a little surreal, but how incredibly cool to be talking to a real costumed superhero right here in her little cafe. Never mind that she's a real supernatural entity who refused to move on to the next world until her murderer was brought to justice; superheroes are way cooler than that.

Of course, then the double pun sinks in, and the look on her face goes positively hilarious with astonishment before she breaks out laughing.]

Oh my gosh, that was so terrible! Adds up and change-s! [...] Pretty brave of you to tell math jokes when they can be awfully divisive!

[That's a very controlled smirk from him. He thought about laughing, because he's pretty sure his circus performer parents never envisioned him going to Gotham City's posh private academies when they decided to nickname him Dick, but that might give the game away.

He really wants to laugh, though. And he absolutely did not take his name from an '80s mullet rock band, shut up Artemis.]

I think my calculations paid off.

[Sorry, you got the one superhero who also happens to be a mathlete. Hopefully someday someone will app his best friend, the science nerd.]

I'll switch to vocab if you want. You ever wonder why people get overwhelmed, or underwhelmed, but never just whelmed?

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video | un: nightwing96

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