Owner	Pose
June	"Del'Mar, come on, you know he comes here like, every Monday," June insists. "Somebody even saw him talkin' with ya," June insists.     A shake of the head is all that she gets from the sandwich shop owner.     "Don't be a bitch, come on, just lemme know where he goes," June presses. "June, you know I'm not talkin' to you, and I don't talk to them, it's not my problem," he insists in his thick accent. "And you know who is here now, you better leave, I don't want trouble."     June growls, "Fuck. Right now?" she asks. The answer is a glance past her shoulder. She doesn't look. "Yeah, okay," she says.     June's bright red hair has recently returned, after having cycled through a few different flourescent tones. She shoves her hands in the pockets of her charcoal hoody with the red hood, and turns around, heading out of the sandwich shop. She doesn't glance at the man who watches her at the bus stop, but puts her hood over her head as she starts away from him. Her pace is brisk, blue shaded blue eyes glancing up and at the roofs, at the alleys as she walks during the evening rush hour.
Drake Riley	What a coincidence! When she looks up, she's going to spot an unusual figure leaning over the rooftop's edge. Though against the fading, evening light against the backdrop of a cloudy sky, it may seem more of a hunching, elven-eared silhouette. But those are just the points of his visor. It's chilly out tonight. Volt would be feeling it more, if it weren't for the well-designed costume he's wearing. Protective, flexible, /and/ good for all weather conditions! The cape settled about his frame also helps, but to a lesser degree. But since he began rooftop-perching, he'd noticed the air is always a little colder up there. Just one of those things to get accustomed to. And since he'd been absolutely killing it in the Titans' Danger Room, it was time to take a break and go on a patrol. Seemed as good a spot as any - his own checkered background would suggest this would be a tempting, low-risk target for hoods. Just bring a gun; the owner may be packing something behind the counter. A hoodie emerges. That's like a hood, but in a different context. The person wearing it seems to look up at him, and unaware of any underlying tensions, he lifts his left hand to flick a two-fingered salute-acknowledgment from his temple. No reason for regular citizens to be worried about a superhero, right?
June	June wasn't looking for a hero, she was looking for Foot. The dark figure in the evening light is not easy to define, but the points on the visor give a silohuette that is similar to another figure that turns her blood to ice. Surely not. He wouldn't be out on patrol...     She glances behind her. The man at the bus station is crossing the street now, and she glances back up. Uncertain who is on the roof, she decides to run. Her break into a sprint is sudden, reversing her direction and heading toward the man at the bus station, and away from Volt. The man takes a ready stance, and as she reaches them, fists begin to fly from both of them as they meet. She parries a jab giving a pressure strike under his ribs, followed by a throat strike. He throws a fist into her gut, and she catches him, using the force of his blow to send him into a moving car. He rolls off the hood, and to the ground. Of course, even in NYC, someone being hit by a car causes a few eyes to look. She doesn't stop, though, running across the street in full flight as she heads down the street.
Drake Riley	From Volt's perspective: This hooded person sees him and runs. Immediately begins throwing hands with what appears to be the next person she meets, like a crazy 28-Days-Later zombie. After throwing him into a car, she takes off running again, possibly to throw another person into a car. If life were a sidescrolling Nintendo game, this has to be what it'd look like. But alas, it's sending a weird message: namely, this chick is attacking people and you need to get on top of the situation. Volt takes off along the rooftop's perimeter, and upon running out of rooftop to work with, promptly springs from its lip. A cylindrical device is plucked from his belt and fired at the next building across the street, anchoring a hook against its brick wall. The connecting cable retracts, zipping him rapidly across the way without yet touching down. His boots hit the side of the building, and he neatly drops the remainder of the short distance down to the sidewalk. She's still a little ahead of him, but now he's on the ground level. And with the zipline slotted back into place, he's taking off in pursuit, cape billowing behind him. "Hey!"
June	June doesn't respond to the call out, not having any idea who called, nor interested to find out. She start to turn around the next corner, only to find a few ladies on a walk with their strollers. She sneers at them, and turns back around, glancing only briefly at the pursuing figure of Drake. It's a slight surprise, it wasn't what she thought, but she's still being chased, and isn't about to ask who or why. She pulls a kunai from her hoody, smashing the side of a passing car's driver side window, which causes an angry screech of the breaks. Which causes another car to rear end him. She doesn't stay for the aftermath, but vaults between the broken bumpers, causing another car to have to hard stop as she finishes her dangerous crossing of the street, and burst into the alley beyond.
Drake Riley	This isn't helping her image! Seeing her cause a wreck to weave traffic effectively makes her appear more dangerous! The situation has to be resolved, and soon! The caped crusader (albeit not the one she's likely thinking of) follows close behind her, albeit more carefully to try to avoid incurring additional damages to the vehicles involved. But upon getting clear of the traffic, he puts his right foot forward and extends his right arm, fingers splayed. "Freeze, or I'll shoot!" It's a typical line more fitting a cop, but the idea is that it'll elicit a pause from her. And the good thing is, if he has to take a shot at her, he can control how damaging it would be. No accidental deaths on his watch!
June	Now out of the view of the common passerby, June spins around when she hears the phrase, her hood falling off her head from the running. "Who the fuck are you?" she asks, her eyes only on Volt for a split second before scanning the alleyway for weapons, obstacles, and other things she might be able to use to her advantage. A tall chain link is behind her, quartering off her straight run path.
Drake Riley	She spins to face him, and the Volt remains poised at the ready. "The name's-- June?" Eyes blink a couple times behind that visor as he recognize the punky stylings of the girl he met rather early in his days in New York City. She has one of those faces that are hard to forget. The arm lowers by half, taken off guard. "What're you doing?"
June	June's brow knits, not quite identifying Drake in the uniform, even if it doesn't cover his face. "Sent to get that sweet bounty, huh?" she says, flipping the kunai in her hand that she used to cause the fender bender. "Ain't gonna go down easy..." she looks like she has more to finish the sentence, maybe an impromptu insult on the costume..."Whoever you're supposed to be dressed up as. So you better be ready to get fucked if you wanna fuck." Mouthy as ever. Of course, she doesn't have any mutant powers as he does, probably putting her at a decided disadvantage.
Drake Riley	"W-.. h'what?," Volt asks, cracking a grin at the tough-talk. It can't be helped; it came out funny. But at this point, his arm has completely lowered to his side again. "You don't recognize me, do ya?" There's a glance to the side, ensuring all onlookers are at a safe distance. Satisfied, he moves closer to her. "We met like a year ago. Year'n a half or something. At the mall. You brought me to that hangout when everything went sideways for me..." Though he stops several feet from her still, his body language is more at ease - or at least, non-threatening. He doesn't intend to fire on her, though the kunai has certainly been noted. It's a risk he's taking, but he's been on the other side of this situation before.
June	June's eyes remain narrowed during the recounting. "Shit. Drake?" she asks. "Holy hell. Thought you didn't join up?" she says. "Thought you ended up bein' smart enough to steer clear of all this shit." She still backs up a little as he steps forward, but doesn't greet the advance with a strike. Her kunai lowers a little, but still at the ready, and her eyes shift attention upward, then she takes a fast glance behind before looking forward again, as if expecting a blindside.
Drake Riley	"Volt," he corrects with a cant of his head. Costume, cape, visor, all that jazz. No names! Except hers. Because she's not even in a costume. "Nah. Apparently I'm not." The grin is still present on his face, and he takes a couple steps closer. His hand raises again, fingertips reaching out not in threat, but to try to tap the side of her kunai and gently guide it down. "Level with me. What're you doing? It looks like you're slugging it out with random people."
June	June seems to measure for a few seconds his sincerity. "Well, if you were with them I guess I'd be SOL already," she admits. She still does another glance about. "Guess you probably heard about Manhattan, when the Foot threw all the shithead gang leaders into the mid-day traffic?" she asks. "Well, I decided I'd turncoat like a dumbass," she says. "Long story involving a guy that...you know, it doesn't matter. What matters is I'm marked a bit. The guy I threw into the car was one of them. He'll probably live I guess," she shrugs. "Saw you up on the rooftop, thought for a second you were /him/." She flips the kunai again, perhaps out of habit.
Drake Riley	Alright, so the kunai isn't really going away. Volt can square that with himself. It's security. So his gloved hands prop at his hips. "Him? Him who? C'mon, I'm new to things on this scale. Work with me." He spares another glance to the side, then tilts aside to peer past her. "If anyone shows up, you've got me. You can breathe. But maybe we should get a little more out of sight, eh?"
June	June smirks, "That's sweet, but I don't think we're there yet," she says, as if it was some sort of date request. "I dunno where is out of sight of the Foot right now," she confesses. "They got the whole city canvassed, I might need to shave my head again," she idly supposes. She looks up the fire escape. "I got a thought," she says, returning the kunai to studded belt, walking to the escape and then running up the wall without warning, catching the iron grate platform. It shows just how dexterous she is as she pulls her legs up and onto the railing, and then turns around to pull herself onto the platform. She checks inside the window. "I know the folks who live here," she claims, "They won't mind if we borrow it for a few." She pulls the kunai out again, and lifts the window up until it is stopped by a wooden post that prevents break-ins. She slips her arm underneath, stretching with the kunai to tap it to the side, causing the dowel rod to fall to the floor inside, and she opens the window the rest of the way.
Drake Riley	Volt's grin adjusts into a smirk as the information is denied. He'll just check the Titans database and do a bit of research. She mentioned the Foot. Find big names associated with it. Narrow it down. He may not get an exact answer, but he'll be able to narrow it down. "Sharing is caring, June," he chides. She scampers up the wall, and he's genuinely impressed. He didn't know she could do that. But he has a more efficient means of doing that. The cylinder is produced from his belt again, held aloft, and the hook fires from its end, anchoring onto the lip of the building's rooftop. The cable retracts more slowly to bring him up to the window, and he follows her on in. Hook disengages, line retracts, grapple device replaced in his belt. "I don't plan on sticking around too long. But I do wanna hear more. Like, what's going on with you? What's your plan?"
June	Inside the apartment, it's clear this isn't the most upper echelon. It smells like a cat urinated somewhere, and there's a collection of clothes on the floor in a pile. The furniture is old, nothing is new or even nice. She plops into a cat destroyed recliner. "Okay, so, /him/ as in the Shredder. Might be a bit paranoid, I'm way below his radar, but...you never know. I may or may not have really fucked up, and so they marked me as a traitor. Foot stays close, like a family. You betray that, you die." She shrugs, "I'm stupid as that. Doesn't help that they pretty much rule the underworld of NYC now." She shakes her head. "So...what's with the cape and shit? You become a vigilante now?"
Drake Riley	"Geeze. And here I was getting all mixed up with you," Volt teases as he approaches the couch. He doesn't take a seat just yet, though. He's still a smidge on edge. Before he can further question her, however, she's turned the barrel back on him. "Ah? Nope. Full-fledged, card-carrying superhero," he reports. "Member of the Titans. All that. When last you saw me, I'd just bailed on the Xavier group. I didn't feel like I really fit in where you brought me - it was a little too much like what I got away from back in L.A. So I went to Bushwick and just.. slummed it up, street-style. Started doing the vigilante thing there, so that my existence would at least matter somehow."
June	"Hero, vigilante, I never really got the difference," June admits. "Yeah, good thing you didn't listen to me, I'm a dumbass." She gets up, and walks to the kitchen, opening a couple of cabinets, after the third, she finds a bag of pretzels, and pulls them out, opening them up and snatching a few out. "Glad you landed on your feet. I'm not in this city as much lately," she admits. "Been living in Gotham with a few that managed to get me /not/ dead on the exit from the Foot. Been just...y'know, helping them with Gotham crime shit, trying to find the big wigs and take them out of play."
Drake Riley	"I'm legal," Volt replies. After a beat, he quickly appends, "I work with the police, militaries, so on. No getting chased by feds for me." He follows after her into the kitchen, sparing her the need of wandering back and forth. "Why'd you do it?," he asks bluntly. "Why run off on the Foot?"
June	"I got a bit impulsive," June admits, holding out the bag of pretzels toward Drake as she returns to the main room. She shoves another in her mouth, chewing it while she speaks. "There was a guy, he thought he'd save my soul or somethin', he was kinda dumb, but heart in the right spot. His efforts got him marked. I stopped the mission to kill him, and killed one of our own. There's no forgiveness for that. I tried to cover it up, which... failed spectacularly."
Drake Riley	Volt takes the offered pretzel, but doesn't pop it into his mouth immediately. Instead, he gestures with it towards her. "I probably would've done the same. I mean, try to pull you out of it. You were too nice. And, c'mon, you're a girl who was givin' me attention." He shoots her a grin and finally pops it into his mouth. Chew, chew, swallow. "But you say you /killed/ one of'em?"
June	The compliment induces a sardonic grin from June. "Shit, I come across as nice? I must be getting really good at bullshit. I'm a total asshole." She wanders back across the room, looking at a baby picture on a bookshelf. "Killed, ya. I mean, I wasn't trained to go half way on stuff. Dunno what you know about ninjas, but it ain't all just black pajamas and katanas."
Drake Riley	"Is it stoplight-red hair and cold-cocking people on the street?," Volt teases. But his voice is a little tighter with the knowledge that she's killed folks. That's a line he's refused to cross - at least since arriving in New York. "Anyway, maybe everyone else was just seeing something in ya that you weren't up for seeing, yourself."
June	June shrugs. "I'm not the kind that gets welcomed with open arms by the hero types. I got a little too much mud on my boots for the clean halls of heroes." She turns back from the phoot. "I ain't a good girl," she declares. "I ain't even a nice girl. Shit, half the time I still wonder if the Foot ain't in the right still. People think I must've just gotten mixed up in the wrong crowd, or dealt a shit hand, or whatever. I made my choicces, nobody else. Nobody made me what I am but me. I don't cry about it, but I'm not all that proud of it. You? You got your spot on the up and up, and that's great for ya. I ain't gonna hold that against you or play the 'you don't get me' shit people like to pull out to justify themselves. It's good. Truth is, whatever life I grew up with, I bet I'd end up in the same place I am now. I just ain't that smart."
Drake Riley	"Okay, so get smart," Volt counters. He steps up beside her, tilting enough to bump one of those capped shoulders lightly at her. She may have noticed his considerably more confident demeanor since last she saw him, to boot; no longer a stray. "Did I ever tell you about how things were for /me/? Because I was definitely not someone anyone'd expect /this/ out of," he adds, motioning towards himself. "I used to do things, too. Bad things. And it was my choice. No one had a gun to my head."
June	June grins, "And now you're the picture of green justice," she concludes. "Yeah, can't say I'm all that fan of justice. It doesn't ever seem to end up playin' fair. That's why the group I joined, we kinda redefine it according to what makes the most sense. We are'nt likely to get medals and shit, but," she shrugs. "Shit gets done, y'know? So this whole Foot thing? Ways Shredder has it now, he controls what justice is. Assholes gettin' off and all that. I guess it's not really all that different than it's always been, it's just easier to pick a target on who's to blame right now."
Drake Riley	Volt nods at her. "Because what I was doing didn't make me feel right. Didn't make me feel like much of a person. It got me friends, but when I was by myself with nothing but my thoughts, I didn't like it." Opting not to pressure her, Volt moves to lean against the side wall. "I was different. You're different, too, just not in the same way. You already showed that off. So I guess the difference is, what makes you different from the Foot. And why the heck do they call themselves feet?"
June	"Foot," June corrects, "Not Feet. It's an old legend that the founter of the Foot clan, Tatsuo Takeshi, was like, an unkillable warrior, super baller. He got betrayed by his master, and lost his leg but still killed like a million guys, and was healed by a spirit kitsune, and...somethin', I forget, but there was a bloody footprint or somethin' and that's how it got its name. It's a Japanese thing." She reaches back in the bag, grabbing a few more pretzels. "So I showed what off? That I'm 'different'?" she asks, making quotes in the air.
Drake Riley	"Uh, yeah. Unless we're living in a Chow Yun Fat movie, normal people don't run up walls," Volt asserts. To emphasize, he motions aside to the window. "So maybe you don't spit fireballs, but you're obviously not garden variety. Whether through training or not. That's all I'm saying." His focus returns to her, and he puts on a weary smile. "Mysterious stories aside, have you squared that away? That you're different from them? Because the way I see it, everyone thinks they're doing good. Not a lot of people out there being evil for its own sake. So there has to be a, a metric or something besides just personal feeling."
June	A rather unintentional shrug is given in response. "I mean, who the fuck am I to say any different? Nobody goes around thinkin', I'm just one evil motherfucker, somebody better off me before I get carried away. I hear people say, 'Well I ain't killed anyone, so I'm pretty good'. I'm like...shit. That's the line you gotta draw to count yourself a good guy? I can't even draw that line, so I'm probably gonna burn in hell, or get reincarnated as a cockroach, or whatever is the bad stuff that happens when you die."
Drake Riley	"Yeah. Hey, June. I can't make that claim, either," Volt mentions, that smile shifting to a frown. "The law. That's the metric. Serving justice - something outside of myself. I had a long, long time to think about that while I was in Bushwick. The.. idea, or ideology maybe, of being a hero. What it means past the obvious. And it's not perfect. But it's something. The rudder that steers the ship." His chin uptilts. "I don't mean to be all heavy on you. I'm just happy you're out of.. whatever that criminal group was. Ninja feet. Foots." He chances another smile at her, small and subdued, hoping a modicum of levity will help.
June	"Well, I think I won't go as dark as to serve the law," June answers, rolling up the pretzel bag and going to replace it to the cabinet. There is a jingle of keys outside the door. "Speaking of which," she glances toward the door, "We better not be here, breaking and entering probably doesn't look good on the superhero scale then," she moves back to the window, opening it back up. Didn't she say she knew these people?
Drake Riley	Volt's attempt at humor didn't seem to land, and her first response is a little smirk. It's such an ambiguous situation she seems to've landed herself in, and he doesn't want to end up taking her on. They were never an item or anything, but he /does/ have a genuine appreciation for her looking out for him early on. "Wait, what?," he asks, shooting a look back to the door. She doesn't know the people here? Dangit, June! He quietly moves after her, stepping lightly, but letting her have the lead exit.
June	June quickly steps back out onto the fire escape, then waits for Volt before sliding the window down quickly, just ahead of the opening door. She grins, "Guess you're a law breaker again," she teases, and scoots her way up to the next floor so that they won't be in earshot just outside the window. "Sorry, didn't think you'd follow me in if I told you I didn't have a clue. Not like we stole anything," she justifies. "Well, maybe some pretzels, but I don't think that counts."
Drake Riley	Volt is just behind her, the wisp of his cape the final vestige of their presence before it vanishes. And once they're free, he aims a very light play-punch at her midsection; completely harmless. "Jerk," he chides. "Really leaning into that whole 'girl your mother warned you about' vibe, aren't'cha? I'll accept 'unwitting accomplice', and nothing more."
June	June shrugs with a mocking grin, doing nothing to defend herself against the punch, and then sits down on the metal step. "Hey, gotta stick to my strengths," she answers. "But really, I think I'm a bit too broken to be a regular hero type. the Birds and I, we do what we can, and they put up with my bullshit, which is good for me or I'd probably SOL. As for the Shredder, I try not to go right wrongs on that street, hands are too bloody for that, and it's way too close to home. But if you wanna go try to fuck him up, you better bring a bunch that you care about. You can only beat family with family."
Drake Riley	Volt scoffs softly. "Eventually I don't think you're gonna feel that way. 'Cuz that's how I felt back in L.A. Like the only people I could really be around were other hoodrats. So..." He pauses, voice softening a touch as he drifts more into sincerity and less cheek, "...I hope it starts to go that way for you, anyway. I'd do what I can to help you out, if it does." A boot moves forward to toebump her. "It's only fair, right?" As for Shredder? He doesn't really even know enough about him to say anything about it. When he thinks about it for a moment, his mind automatically turns it into 'Grater', includes cheese, and ultimately winds up with a pitch by Billy Mays. Best to focus on the familiar right in front of him.
June	June laughs a harsh chuckle. She doesn't really respond in the positive or negative to the toe bump, though her eyes drop to watch it for a moment with a rather neutral study of the action.     "Yeah, hopefully for me you're better at it than I am. Last guy that said that ended up on a shitty emotional roller coaster because of me. Don't really wanna do that to people. He had some hero complex issues." She eyes the suit, then gives a cock of one eyebrow as if to say she wonders the same thing of the young man in front of her.
Drake Riley	Volt is wearing a garish, colorful costume with a cape. Of course he is. He isn't even trying to hide it. He meets that look from her with a smirk and quirked brow of his own. "Let me worry about me. And let's just say, if you want support? You know where to find it." Gloved hands raise. "No pressure, alright?"
June	"Right, well, try not to get dead," June answers. "Imma go try to do the same. "Shit it's cold up here." She gets up from the step. "Take care of yourself, uh..." she pauses, "What was the superhero name again?" she asks, having forgotten.
Drake Riley	Volt is already turning from her, plucking that cylindrival device from his belt. Of course he has plans to not get dead! That's the name of the game, after all. And it's why there's so much training involved in this newfound lifestyle. As he raises his arm to get an angle on the next adjacent rooftop, he catches her fumble and question. "Volt," he replies, side-eyeing her through the visor. Not too hard a name to keep track of. One syllable, truth in advertising. He hopes it'll stick; not just with her, but everyone! "Take care!" The device fires off, a grapple clamping onto the next rooftop's corner. And just like that, he's zipping away into the air!