[Graham could have lived out the rest of his life in Gotham (no telling how long that'd be in a place like this) and never gone near a rooftop. Superheroes, vigilantes, whatever the hell they were called, they could get up high and do their thing. He was fine right here on the ground. But he'd agreed to this anyway, and it was nothing short of insanity. Or maybe it was just a lack of anything else to do. Zombies had been hell but at least he'd had a purpose there. Here? Aside from Shane and Clem (which he'd managed go go and fuck up all by himself, maybe) he didn't have much of anything. What else did he have to do with his time, wander around a big old mansion and get drunk? Wasn't all that interesting after the first few times.
The girl, Holly, seemed nice enough. Pushy, a self-proclaimed troublemaker and just a kid, but not the type to push him off a roof. Graham waited on the corner, Bleaker and Old Street, at five minutes to eight. Jeans, a t-shirt and a black hoodie, because those rich people clothes just weren't his thing. He'd been keeping up with the news and knew all about the dead cops, the mobsters, the crazy Batman, but since he didn't fall into any of those categories he figured he was safe.]