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[b]Los Angeles - Outside Café Belle Vie[/b][hr]

He watched idly, almost boredly as the battle came to its conclusion. He hadn't come out here for an active attack and luckily this hero had saved him the trouble. He had to admit that the kid seemed to know what he was doing and he seemed to know how to do it well. There was a dull [i]thud[/i] as the alligator-man hit the ground and suddenly it was over and he was staring into the eyes of the other hero. His eyes were the only part of his face visible through the porcelain mask, one pale green eye and one blind blue eye.

He blinked, the porcelain mask on his face gave nothing away, not that his expression probably would have either. He didn't feel particularly strongly about this situation, it was just another fight. He had barely had any part in this fight and he didn't think that it really quite mattered that he was here at all. So, he did what any self-respecting, functioning alcoholic would do in his situation. He fished a silver flask from his pocket, he unscrewed the cap, slightly lifted his mask and took a swig.

The other hero was dressed like something akin to a storybook knight, or perhaps a more high-tech parody of a storybook knight. He estimated that he was younger than him, shorter at the very least. After meeting La Buitre, he had stopped being surprised by younger heroes running amuck through Los Angeles. She had been competent enough on her own and he supposed this kid was too, or at least it seemed that way. He was more of a heavy-hitter than Keandre, at the very least. 

He was partially leaning back against the building, strangely relaxed despite everything that had just happened. “[color=a0410d]Bonjour, I'm Éclater.[/color]” He greeted, horribly casual for a guy in an unnerving porcelain mask. “[color=a0410d]Pardon the intrusion, I have been doing this for awhile and I haven't run into you. I tend to assume the worst, but you appeared to handle yourself well.[/color]”[/center]