New York: Bryant Park Bryant Park is the largest privately maintained park in New York City. Located in a picturesque area behind the New York Public Library on 42nd Street and the Avenue of the Americas, Bryant Park is home to numerous public activites like the JVC Jazz Festival, HBO's Movies in the Park and many other free cultural events. The park is located next to a few private schools, that offer an education for the teenagers of Manhattan. The park itself has just recently been renovated, it contains several famous statues including the venerable statues of Goethe and Stein. One of the more beautiful parks in the city, the flowers, trees, bushes, and plants make a picturesque view, no matter what season it is. Dinah Lance: Vigilante. That is the unmistakeable message this woman's attire presents. Her long-sleeved uniform moulds to her torso like a second spandex skin of navy bisected by a dark gray breast. Strips of gilt metal protectively cover her forearms and ribcage, matching the high collar with its dangling charm. Slung low and loose around her hips is a golden belt emblazoned at the center with a stylized ebony image of a bird angled in descent. Dark boots with two bands of gold stop shy just below the knee, leaving her thighs bare. The woman appears to be just shy of thirty, with blue-gray eyes framed by dark lashes and brows. Her face is a perfect oval complemented by a tousled mop of blonde curls that fall just past the nape of her neck. Her blonde bombshell beauty is a mask in and of itself: the steely determination in her gaze and slightly stubborn set of her jaw reveal that this Canary is a bird of prey. Kyle Rayner: You see a young Caucasian male dressed in attire that clearly identifies him as a metahuman adventurer. His costume is predominately black spandex, with a white oblong inset across his chest that extends under his left arm and around to about a third of the way across his back. Over the left side of his chest, the inset is cut by a vertical black stripe. Over his left pectoral, framed in white over part of the black stripe is an ornate green-and-black insignia. He wears knee-high green boots made out of an unknown reflective material. He also wears elbow-length fingerless gloves made out of the same reflective green material as his boots. On his face is an mask that covers his eyes and nose, his eyes appearing only as opaque white slits. Finally, on the ring finger of his right hand is a jade ring that occasionally pulsates with a glowing green aura. It's twilight, and it's warm in the City. Here in the park, where the life shines through more freely than in the concrete and stone structures of the rest of the famed city, a breeze ruffles the tops of the trees. To the quiet listener, the contented coos of sleepy birds and the rustlings of the night animals, coupled with the sounds of the breeze, are almost a lullaby. Sitting on a park bench, not particularly watching anyone (or anything) except for the garishly lit screen of his pocket Sega set, is a familiar kid. The only surprising thing is...he's outside, and he isn't running around. Well, chalk it up to a little tiredness. It happens, y'know? If you come closer before you say anything, you notice that his arms are bandaged and he moves kinda funny, like he's stiff. (Which is why he isn't really moving around much.) Green Lantern streaks down into the foliage, hopefully unnoticed, behind a thick stand of trees. Very little activity occurs once he has apparently landed, though soon after a single burst of green energy explodes from behind the trees. Ever get that funny feeling? The feeling that someone is watching you? The breeze at your back stills comfortably. Your hair ruffles in the stillness, a few degrees warmer. A pleasant feminine voice croons in your right ear, "Like, zoiks, Scoob." And you'll probably never see anyone jump like that again! Unless you surprise Cassie, that is, who'd probably shoot up about fifty feet into the air. But she can fly, so she doesn't count. As soon as Bart lands again, he spins to see who the heck's behind him, sees Dinah, opens his mouth to say something, then yipes again as the emerald explosion goes off somewhere behind him. He stands up, still having said nothing, kinda winces, then blinks at Dinah as if to say, 'My brain just turned off - bwuh...?' Kyle Rayner creeps out of the forest a few feet away from the explosion, looking around to see if anyone noticed his hopefully covert change from his costumed alter ego. As he scans the area, he thinks to himself . o O (Okay, looks like no one picked up on it, nobody who's looking this way anyways...) The look on Bart's face is priceless to the blonde vigilante, as her chortle readily prooves. "I finally did it! I snuck up on a speedster!" Mirth ebbing, Dinah tilts her head. "Wow, you and Wally are sure striking out lately. What? It's just me. You look like you've seen a ghost." "Grife, Dinah, I...yeah," he says, none too clearly, peering kind of distractedly around her, to see what caused the green flash...but there's nothing back there except that artist guy who's always around Radu's. He quickly returns his attention to the Canary, and grins lopsidedly. "You watch too many cartoons." 'S all he says. He doesn't say anything about Wally, but a look of concern passed over his face when Dinah mentioned him...and he /has/ got all bandages, like there was an accident. Well, anyway, he's smiling /now/. Kyle Rayner sighs in relief and his stride becomes casual as he heads along the grass. He still has his head craning in various directions, making absolutely sure no one saw him. This preparatory measure prevents him from noticing and recognizing Bart and the Canary at the bench. Dark brows crease in a frown as Canary places a hand on her hip. "Are you okay? What happened to you?" Her gaze travels in distraction to the lone wandering figure, eyes narrowing--thing back to Bart. "Who hurt you?" Bart Allen shrugs noncommittally, then grins sheepishly. "Well, it's stupid, and I'm sure you'll find all about it when you see Wally next." Almost as swiftly as he's wonted to move, he changes the subject. "Are you in the mood for mocha?" His grin widens, and he shoves his Sega into his back pocket, doing a little fingerdance, "Mochamochamocha...!" Kyle Rayner walks past, and for an instant thinks . o O (Oh crap. They saw me. They saw me and they know me. I am _so_ screwed. Relax, play it off, maybe they didn't see...) He waves casually to the two of you. "Hey." Looking over and blinking, Bart spots Kyle and waves. "Hey, artist-guy. You said your name was Kyle, right?" "I'm from Seattle--I'm always in the mood for mocha." Dinah slants an appreciative gaze to Mr. Artist. She can never remember his name, but recognition dawns in her eyes as she grins. "Who'se your friend here, Bart?" Kyle Rayner says "Yeah, that's right." He averts his attention to Canary. "Um, I'm Kyle Rayner. I, uh, live around here. Nice to meet you, Miss...?"" She quickly extends a gloved hand. "Lance, Dinah Lance. But you can call me...later." A flirtacious wink follows. Bart Allen snickers, resting hands in pockets by way of thumbs. "Cooooooties," he laughs, then grins. "Kyle, you up for mocha, too?" Kyle Rayner swallows a bit and accepts Dinah's hand. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Dinah." He thinks . o O (Been the umpteenth time, but still damned nice...) "So what're the two of you out in the park... oh, sure, sure, it's fortunate I live over a coffee shop in the Village." Once again, Bart just kinda blinks in surprise. "Wow, you /live/ up there? I live right down the street from you!" He grins. "Off to Radu's?" "Very fortunate." A serene smile tilts her lips as Dinah looks to Bart. "Do you think you can stand some more caffeine? Sure!" She falls into step beside the duo, comfortable even in her uniform. Kyle Rayner nods. "Works for me." He nods affirmingly to Dinah as it seems the question of whether or not she's interested in accompanying them is now moot, and makes his way into Greenwich Village. New York: Greenwich Village Since the era of World War I, the image of Greenwich Village has been that of a bastion of urban bohemianism, a place where anything goes in terms of music, clothing, thought, and behavior. Indeed, its reputation for tolerance is well-established, having been a center of counterculture activity since the Beat era of the late 1950s. But the Village defies easy categorization, and a walk down Bleecker Street today, past the legendary coffee houses where Bob Dylan used to play, will probably only kindle nostalgia for a world not totally overrun with tourists. Once a magnet for every manner of starving artist, poet, and anarchist, the Village is now such an in-demand place that most would-be world-shakers simply can't afford to live there. Greenwich Village is the center of New York's gay community, especially in the area around Christopher Street, which, like San Francisco's Castro Street, has become synonymous with gay life. New York: Radu's As you step inside the brightly lit shop, the pleasant mix of aromas from coffee blends and baked goods alike waft under your nose. The place is decorated in a very homey atmosphere that seems a combination of Fifties' Malt Shop and Mom's Kitchen. The counter encloses the coffee machines and several glass-encased muffins and pastries are displayed aside the cash register. The main picture window is emblazoned with a logo of a coffee pot with a smiling mustached face and the word "RADU'S" below it in European styled calligraphy. For those who want to stay a while and have a cup of the finest java in the Village, or just simply soak up some of the local color, there are a wide array of tables, booths, and stools surrounding the counter. Kyle Rayner grabs a stool at the counter and greets the owner. "Hey, Radu, three mochas for me and my friends here. I'm buying." The large Romanian smiles and says, "Ah, the job is working, yes? Then I should expect rent soon?" Kyle responds with equal smiles, "Sure will." Walking alongside, all the way, Bart is unusually quiet. When they get there, he grins impishly. "It's on me, Kyle. And Wally's source. Please? I started it, after all..." So he's indiscreet. He really doesn't care. And since Wally said it was up to him, he's just leaving it be. Too much effort involved either way, with secret identities. After settling upon her stool, Dinah does a double-take, peering curiously at Bart...then at Kyle. "You know Wally? Wow. He gets around." Kyle Rayner nods to Bart then to Dinah. "Yeah, Wally buzzed in here for a little after I'd gotten back from... an interview. Guy seems pretty candid. And cool." She nods with a smile, accepting the answer. "I don't know him that well, but I completely agree." Her fingers toy with a napkin as she suddenly frowns. "Don't you know Connor as well?" Kyle Rayner says "Connor? Hmm..." He thinks . o O (Okay, in or out of costume... hmmm... ah, better play it safe...) "Nope, name doesn't ring a bell." "I could have sworn...maybe it was someone else." Dinah scratches her head, then shrugs. "Don't get old, Bart. Your memory goes." Kyle Rayner looks Dinah up and down. "Oh, come on, you can't be _that_ old. Not much older than me, right?" Wondering for a second how to do this, Bart sits mutely. Then his eyes light up, and he yelps, pointing across the room, "Kyle! What's that?!" At the very second that the twentysomething artist turns, he leans over to Dinah and whispers really fast, but not too fast to understand, "I just /know/ he's a superhero! I know it! I think he's really Superman!" Kyle Rayner looks over to where Bart indicates, but shrugs at not seeing anything. Soon, Radu comes back with the warm mugs of java. In a low voice she answers "That's ridiculous, Bart. Everyone knows that Superman doesn't have time for a life." As her hand clasps the mug, Dinah gives a small stretch and looks back to Kyle. "Well...not really. Only 27. You're an artist? I'd really like to see your etchings sometime." This last was said with a totally straight face. Well, almost. Her gaze did drop, but was respectfully back in place a second later. Kyle Rayner holds back a grin. "Oh, sure, I'd love to. Always up for new admirers of my work." He takes a drink to hide any guilty expressions. Shaking his head and grinning into the whip cream on top of his mocha, Bart mutters, "It's the hair. The hair!" He takes a sip, and when he looks up, he's got an incredible fluffy white mustache. Licking his lips with gusto, he calls over to Radu, "You alwaysalwaysalways make the best mochas!" Radu says to Bart, "As is Kyle, I too am liking admirers of my work. Thank you." Gingerly raising the cup to her lips, Dinah takes a slow sip and licks the cream from her mouth in a lingering fashion. "Mnn. That hits the spot. I'll have to come here more often. So how old did you say you were, Kyle?" Her mouth forms an 'o' as she blows the steam from the hot liquid. Kyle Rayner says somewhat distractedly, "Um, I'm twenty-four." He swallows another gulp of his coffee. The kid slumps down comfortably into his seat, enjoying every last bit of the heavenly concoction. It's a comfort drink, which sits in his belly like a hug on the outside. "'Sgreat, Radu, no prob," he grins, "I'm gonna want another. An' if you've got any of those great big sandwiches, man...I'm all for it." Bart rubs the back of his neck, putting his mug down carefully, and rearranging his hands so they rest gingerly on his lap. Dinah sighs as she looks after the dark-haired man. Then she says softly with a concerned look "Hey, Bart? How come you're up so late? You really look worn out. And well, I hate to say it, but you look like you should be in bed resting those injuries." Shrugging it off with an infuriating indifference, Bart only notes pompously, "Sleep is only an inefficient substitute for caffeine." He polishes off the last of his mocha and rubs his eyes. "I /am/ tired. But I feel a lot better than yesterday. They had me in the /hospital/ yesterday, can you /imagine/? /Grife/, it was boring! No vidgames!" He shifts slightly in his seat and continues. "Besides, I'm not suposed to be in the headquarters, either. The city's supposed to check out the structural integrity of the building before I can live in it again. They were supposed to do it today, but they never got around to it." Suddenly his eyes open wide and he sits up. "Wally! Where's Wally gonna go?" Nudging her cup, Dinah gives a sympathetic noise. "I don't care for hospitals much myself. Hey--don't worry about Wally. He's got friends here. At the very least, he can crash at Roy's." She slides the mug over to you. "Here , you look like you need it more than I do. Don't you have a place to stay?" Grinning slyly, Bart pauses for a second. "Well, I'm not /supposed/ to stay with Cassie. Maybe I will." Then he wrinkles his nose. "Who'm I kidding? But anyway, no, I'm worried about Wally. He got all weird and glowy. Did you know he said he was quitting, and made me the Flash? But last night, I guess he went too fast or something...I dunno. He said he wasn't gonna use his powers anymore. Maybe that was why. But the first thing I remember is waking up all in bandages, and he was next to me, and he was on fire and he was scared. Then he disappeared, and Roy took me to the hospital, I think. But he's gone. I haven't heard from him since. I haven't got clue /one/ where he is." After that, where the words kinda rush out like a stenographer's nightmare, he peers at Dinah's mocha, then looks up at her again to see if she's serious. Dinah gives a nod, even as she absorbs the information. "Go ahead." Her fingertips drum on the counter. "That explains a lot. Does Roy know about this? About Wally quitting?" Bart Allen takes a big gulp of Dinah's mocha, then shakes his head. "I don't think he does. I don't think many people do. But I think people are getting weirded out that he does everything at normal speed." "That's an understatement."She slides off her stool, then reaches in a compartment of her costume, paying enough for the tab and a generous tip. "I'd better get in contact with him. Bart, if you need to crash, you can use my place. It has a tv. No video games though. Sorry." She sounds a tad apologetic, but genuine in her offer. Smiling slightly, and definitely gratefully, the boy nods. "I might just. I probably will." Just...hopefully not literally. He prolley can't do a lot of damage in the shape he's in, though, so it's okay. As long as you get the Cartoon Network and the Sci-Fi Channel (HATE eMpTyV..!) The blonde bomshell grins and hands him a key. "You know where I live. Just don't wait up for me. I have somebody scarlet of my own to find, he's just not a speedster." With a gentle smile Canary can't resist the temptation to ruffle the boy's floofy hair. "Just try not to break any furniture. I'll call Jay in the morning." He nods seriously, then grins and says simply, "No fear." He doesn't mind when /Dinah/ ruffles his hair, after all. The boy puts the key in his pocket, and waves. "I'll seeya later. And thanks."