Wow, that hurt. || Quanta and Saint
Saint Walker winced as his foot landed on the ground. The wound was still fresh but he didn’t have it in him to really complain or dwell on it too much. He had a job to do, and he got it done and got out alive. All he needed to think about was how lucky he was to be alive with non-crippling injuries.
Quanta walked along the dimly lit street, wandering back from visiting Selina and her cats. She was covered from head to toe, headscarf and long billowing clothes shrouding nearly everything but her eyes and hands. The astonian had little worry that anyone would be able to mug her, even in this rough city. (A naive thought, but no one had challenged her yet.) It was a long walk to the apartment she had rented for a place to stay, but she didn’t mind.
Saint knew that Quanta had to be in Gotham, she wasn’t at their home on Mogo and it wasn’t like she could wonder the galaxy without him. However checking Catwoman’s various hideouts left him both Quanta-less, Selina-less, and clueless. Outside of Catwoman’s hideouts he didn’t know where Quanta would be since he assumed that Catwoman would be protecting her while he was out. If she wasn’t at any of Catwoman’s safehouses it meant she was out, possibly getting into trouble with Selina? Best to find out quickly and set his mind at ease so he flew up into the air to get a better look, he was normally very good at finding her when he wanted to.
She hadn’t seen Bro’dee in a few weeks, but his guardian work often kept him away. Quanta was not one for complaining, but it was hard to live alone with only Mogo for company. Being around humans was preferable.
Quanta paused, a strange sensation overtaking her. She sometimes felt it when Bro’dee was near. She tilted her gaze towards the smog filled sky.