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Bart Allen/Impulse (the_breakneck) wrote in labyrinth_rpg,

Bast thrashed her back leg against him, uneasy, riled. Not bothering to look down at her but taking the kick as a sign that she wanted down, he allowed her to drop gently to the ground, where she landed gracefully, silently. She wasn’t going to go anywhere. She knew better than to run off and he didn’t have to worry about losing her in a… city, place, trap, that he wasn’t familiar with. As he guessed she would, she entwined herself around his leg and intently watched the area in front of her.

What he needed to do was move. There was nobody here, no one that he could see, nobody within his line of sight. Bart wasn’t afraid. He’d been snatched up before, had been interrogated and made to run until he was nearly positive he wasn’t going to get out alive. This wasn’t the same. He hadn’t been hurt. Not yet. He wasn’t being backed into a corner. No one was talking to him. Not one threat had been thrust upon him. It was the scenery that brought out the worry, not a person.

The communication brought in by his earpiece was gone. He could hear a subtle burst of static and then nothing. The voice that might have come from Green Arrow didn’t exist here. The static erupted and he didn’t need to speak, didn’t need to think about it. He could talk into the communication link and he would get no feedback, no instructions, no assurance. He was used to having someone’s voice in his ear whenever he was in the attire associated with Impulse and the absence was emptying. He wanted the noise back.

He saw her coming prior to hearing her. His eyes narrowed in her direction, concealed by the glasses, hidden. She didn’t look intimating. She didn’t seem threatening. But you could never be sure by appearance alone, could you? He watched her like a hawk, didn’t say anything.