The changes to my uniform are subtler than most that this island has seen. Whether it's due to there being a lack of a practical equivalent in this alternate version of Victorian London, or if the forces behind all of these shifts and changes have seen fit to grant me clemency, I can't be sure. I don't care to wonder, or treat it with anything other than the suspicion that I turn to most aspects of the island. By day and night alike, I've been watching over this city.
It's not mine. It's not Gotham. But the people here require the same type of protection, and so I set out every evening, collar raised up to protect against the bitter cold.
When I cross paths with Stephanie, it strikes me that this may be as good a chance as any to have a talk. Easy distractions to pull either of us away, if words exchanged grow too heated.
"Slow night," I remark, eyes narrowed as I step closer.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2011-12-27 07:45 am (UTC)It's not mine. It's not Gotham. But the people here require the same type of protection, and so I set out every evening, collar raised up to protect against the bitter cold.
When I cross paths with Stephanie, it strikes me that this may be as good a chance as any to have a talk. Easy distractions to pull either of us away, if words exchanged grow too heated.
"Slow night," I remark, eyes narrowed as I step closer.