Owner	Pose
June	Twilight in China Basin. When you are pasty white with fire engine red hair, you stand out a little from the mostly asian population of the area. As she stands across from a restaurant that was hit a few weeks ago, she seems to have very little concern regarding the matter. Her takeout is from the very restaurant she watches, leaning against a light post with a pair of chopsticks. Her black jeans are shredded, showing almost as much of her legs as they cover, and a Pink Floyd T-shirt that's been cut on the sleeves to make it a rather sloppy looking tank top covers her torso. She casually watches the restaurant from behind dark blue eyeshadow. Contrary to what the stereotype of her appearance might lead one to expect, she seems fairly proficient with them.     After a few more seconds and another mouthful of lo mein, she shoves off from the light pole with her shoulders, her converse hi-tops carrying her away from the street while across the street, two men in suits exit, watching her suspiciously.
Dick Grayson	Each part of the city gets a sweep. It's known amongst the young people in the Bat Family that you can tell how annoyed the Bat is with you by the path you're given. Oh sometimes it changes, if he feels one person is better suited to another route than another, but if you're given riverside in the Summer, then you know you did something wrong.     And so that's why there might be a slight grimace to the features of the youthful silhouette, limned against the skyline by the setting sun. Crouched at the base of a billboard and just close enough to have good sight lines across the length of China Basin... it's a good spot to keep an eye on things, the progress of different gang members, to watch for the odd bit of trouble in the neighborhood that, rather often, doesn't come across the scanner.     Behind the mask the HUD displays data in the corner as he lets his gaze drift over a few people walking along the main thoroughfare. One hand touches beside his ear.     "Alright, I've got nothing here. Moving to the next check point." Spoken quietly just for the comm freqs to relay.     And then he's up, moving, a blur cutting across that rooftop in utter silence. From afar if one were to catch the arcing leap he takes from one roof to the next, they might imagine a bird taking flight with the blue flare of wings, then he lands silent as well and moves to the next observation point.
June	June walks, pulling a stray noodle into her mouth as her feet continue down the street. The two asian men follow, A determined look on their face. She tosses the now empty carton into a trash can as she passes, and then turns down an alley. Whether she knows it is a dead end or not is anyone's guess, but the men continue in her direction, and as they grow near, they each pull a gun from their suit jacket.     The young woman, on the other hand, still holds the chopsticks, and flattens herself against the damp brick wall, head turned toward the entrance, waiting for her incoming followers to round the corner.
Dick Grayson	There's a certain shift in body language, a haste to footsteps, it draws the eye of a person when they've been trained to read a crowd. And in that moment when those two men start forwards faster, Nightwing can pick them up even as he lands upon the edge of that rooftop above an old converted textile mill that had assuredly seen better days.     He frowns, leaning forwards. Irisless eyes of the mask narrowing as he catches sight then of the guns, the speed. That's it. Enough to push him into action. The vigilante leaps from his perch, grapple line snapping out with a slight crack and snaring the corner of a building opposite him, letting him swing and cross that distance. Time will be slim, chances are they'll be on her before he gets there but a baton slips into his hand from the holster on his thigh.     "Got two, guns. Moving in." And that's all the comms will get from him for now.
June	The first man reaches the alley just a step ahead of the second one, rounding the corner to find an instant engage from the red head. She grabs the pistol, jabbing a chopstick into the gap of the hammer, then snaps the chopstick. The gun will certainly not fire until it can be disassembled to remove the broken piece of wood.     June pulls the man forward, jabbing the splintered wood up into the man's armpit, then kicks him away to engage the second.     She's a little too slow, and the second fires as she tucks her head back, closing her eyes to protect her from the muzzle flash that sears the bottom part of her chin. The crack of the pistol pierces the alley, and a ricochet is heard as the slug strikes a dumpster.     Both the girl and the man strike at once. She slaps the hand hard against the wall, which causes a yelp of pain from the man as he at once gives her a left cross to the face. She stumbles back while he drops the gun from his broken hand.
Dick Grayson	As she's engaging with the one who fired, behind her there's a blur of movement. That one she'd drawn off and stabbed in the armpit, he's wincing from that strike to the nerve cluster there but that doesn't stop him from spending the next few moments trying to figure out how to clear the weapon, cursing sharply as he twists it around then with a scowl he tosses it aside and draws a knife from behind his back.     That's when that blur slices in, a knee landing heavily into the side of the gunsel's head and sending him crashing to the ground where he rebounds off an old quartet of fruit crates that shatter under the impact. The vigilante in black lands with his knee on the shoulder of the planted man, restraining him even as he turns to the side, lashing a hand out to send that baton flying, looking to rebound it off the wall behind the man struggling with June and clock him in the back of the head.
June	Both June and her attacker are temporarily distracted by the vigilante's brilliant entrance It's very unfortunate to the man standing opposite her, who thought that the baton missed him as he winces from the first throw of the baton, only to take it in the back of his head upon the rebound.     June recovers from the surprise, turning back to her disoriented attacker. Though it looks like he might be down for the count from the blow to the back of the head, she grabs him by the hair all the same, bringing her kneed up, bare skin jutting through the tears in her jeans as his face connects with her knee. He's certainly out now, but she does it again, repeating the move as the ragdoll of a man is tossed back toward the filthy alley pavement, leaving a blood splatter on her knee.     She shakes her hand releasing some of the man's torn hair and she moves to her hip, fingers gripping something under the beltline of her pants, taking a ready stance to face the newcomer. It's a ninjitsu pose, hardly something expected of a street punk.
Dick Grayson	At a cursory glance, he'd tagged her as someone who could fight, who could handle themselves. But as he gains his feet and turns to fully face her, when she slips into that defensive stance and seems ready to face him... she might well see a quirk of an eyebrow there.     The other baton comes up in his hand as he turns his hips to the side subtly, granting the illusion of the informal, but she might recognize that from that position he could move quickly, has made himself a touch less vulnerable if she chose to attack. There's that subtle tension as each of them reads the other and then he gestures with a slight nod. "Something tells me that these guys had more of a reason for hassling you than needing a quick score."
June	June similarly fakes an informal stance, also ready to move She gives him a once over. "Yeah, well I didn't ask for help from team spandex," she says callously. So much for a thank you. "If they had a reason, then they have a better reason not to hassle me now." Her hand doesn't leave her belt line, clearly comforted by whatever her finger and thumb are gripping beneath it. Her other hand comes up, tossing her bangs back to the side of her side-shaved head. "You expecting a tip or somethin', is that how this works?"
Dick Grayson	"Usually," Nightwing's smirk is wry as it comes to life and she'll see a subtle slight easing of that tension when he lifts a gauntlet and touches a fingertip to the small display there. But his irisless eyes remain on her and perhaps for the first time she'll get a chance to look at him a little more clearly in the long shadows of the twilight, just enough sunlight causing him to look a little taller than he may well be.     "Or you can give me a five star review in the Team Spandex app, and I'll put a little note in there, 'Ninja girl, great victim. Only slightly rude.'" As he says this he steps and turns away slightly, and if she's going to strike this would be the moment when he nudges the fallen man over with the toe of his boot. That armored suit hugs him like a glove, the armored plates there and visible mainly only as subtle hitches in the line of the musculature. He's carrying gear, that much is clear, but what it is seems... rather difficult to discern.     A zip tie appears and he attaches it to the fallen man near him, then he turns and starts to walk towards her. "You alright?" He asks, gauging her as he moves to likewise secure the other.
June	She doesn't take the opportunity to strike, but she does remove her hand from whatever defense measures she was holding onto. The girl touches her lip, blood starting to come from the injury, and she wipes the blood on her pants. "Yeah, I'm fine," she answers. "Muzzle flashes burn like a bitch though." She tenderly touches the bottom of her chin briefly before going to the man she knee'd in the face repeatedly. Instead of securing him, though, she starts to root through his pockets until she finds his wallet. She opens it without any concern about being seen doing it. "Here you go," she says with a grin, pulling a wad of money from the wallet. "Here's your tip."
Dick Grayson	Some of the Bat family might take exception to a gal rolling the two men that had just tried to jump her and taking their wad. But Nightwing's read on her is that she might well need it though he isn't exactly letting her go without running her features through the batcomputer. Small augmented reality triangles flicker over her features even as the acrobat smiles at her wryly.     "How about you tell me your name and what this is all about and we'll call it square?" He asks as he gestures with one gauntleted hand towards the fallen man behind him. He takes a few steps to the side, leaning back against the wall of the alleyway, arms folding over his broad chest as he considers her. "Since I sorta got a vibe about all of this." What with the ninjitsu and all.
June	Her Bronx accent is probably enough to give her away as an out-towner. The database actually finds two matches for her. June Connor and Cara Thomas. June has several juvenile convictions. Theft, vandalism, assault, and one drug possession for marijuana. There are no adult convictions, but she still has an outstanding warrant for failure to appear in court on one of the assault charges, but none of them are younger than 2 years old.     Cara Thomas is supposedly 23, where June is 19. Cara has one citation for disturbing the peace, but no record found regarding any convictions. There is a note that she is suspected to be a part of the Purple Dragons gang, apparently a small outfit in New York City. Cara's SSN is unverified.     June looks up from her crouching position, letting the wallet and money droop from her hands that hand from her knees. "I kinda like the cash option, personally. I think they didn't like me makin' faces at them in their restaurant. Their chinese food is shit, by the way. I don't recommend it." She stands back to her feet, dropping the wallet carelessly on the unconscious man's back.
Dick Grayson	"Well, up to you," Nightwing digests the intel that's fed to him even as he causes some of the data to scroll by lifting his head slightly, then lowering his gaze with a small 'hnh' that comes from him. A few steps carries him towards her, "But this will affect your Yelp rating. Fair warning." He steps towards her and then offers his hand even as distantly she might well pick up the sound of sirens or perhaps even the glow of red and blue lights distantly down the street.     In that hand he offers is a card with a phone number and naught else, but he'll give it to her should she take it. "If you start getting followed by more guys and they come at you, drop a line." Those irisless eyes hold hers, but they can be a touch disconcerting even as he says those supposedly kind words, then whether or not she takes it he turns and plants a boot on the side of the wall and /flips/ upwards, vaulting to the low hanging rung of the fire escape.     He twists in the air, flips upwards to snare the side of the railing and scissors his legs up to launch himself up the remaining distance onto the rooftop... and out of view.
June	June lets her lips purse forward with a lopsided smirk. She watches as Nightwing vaults his way out of the alley, and looks at the card. "Any info they said," she shakes her head with a smile. She goes back to the man's pockets, and retrieves a pen, copying the number down on her arm before tucking the card into his wallet as the sirens get louder. She stuffs the bills into her own back pocket, then returns the wallet to the man's jacket pocket before working up some tears.     She's just so thankful that a masked vigilante came and saved her from these muggers!