Joan of Arc walked, hands in pockets, headphones over her ears. She was used to moving so she wasn't noticed in these times, and she dressed androgynously, loose shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow and straight pants bought in the male section so with great capacity of pockets to bury her hands in. She didn't particularly have a purpose with her walk tonight. She had had the thought to walk by the river and enjoy the night air.
She saw the billboard before she saw the figure hanging off the bottom of it. She screwed up her face in disgust at its message and wondered if she could perhaps go home and get some spray paint to deface it with. She stopped, though, and watched the woman with the crowbar working away industriously at it. She was getting an immortal vibe, and was intrigued.
Someone behind her was using a phone to take a photo of the woman, then loudly grumble about vandals and criminals, so she moved a bit closer.