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[b]Los Angeles - Streets[/b]
[@Shard] & [@Count Cuddles] & [@The Harbinger of Ferocity][hr]

Strange as it was, Keandre found this idle chit chat to be a comforting break from what had become normal for him. Mornings were often slow, spent in cafés, waiting for something to happen. Sometimes there was crime to fight and fires to start. Sometimes he would idle for hours between Café Belle Vie and the sandwich shop down the road, it depended on his luck. Nights were very different. Nights were often hectic affairs spent in a bar a few blocks away from his home. Sometimes nights ended with faceless men and flickers of laughter. Sometimes his nights ended with terrible hangovers and puke dried into his bed sheets, it depended on his luck. 

Often times, Keandre had [i]very[/i] bad luck but that was alright. He'd gotten used to his strange new existence, it was a [i]bit[/i] more productive than his life in France and he kind of enjoyed knowing he was doing society a favor. However, it had done well in supporting his tendency to stray from socializing and having such a nice and… [i]mostly normal[/i] conversation with another hero was new. It was new in a good way, it gave him something else to think of. He knew he'd likely leave this conversation worrying about this kid getting himself hurt but that was something to think about over a glass of whiskey later. 

He worried enough for La Buitre too. He hadn't started this whole hero thing until he'd been nineteen years old, it was a bit concerning that these kids were running around Los Angeles without any parental guidance. Of course, Midnight had [i]some[/i] guidance in the form of Faultline but he was still a kid and that would serve to weigh on a corner of Keandre’s mind. “[color=a0410d]Alone,[/color]” He said, using his right hand to guide him to a wall that he could comfortably lean against. He braced his boot against the wall, seeming very relaxed, but it was also a convenient position to kick off of if something attacked.

He took another nip from his flask and continued, “[color=a0410d]Je préfère être seul. I have not really made many friends since I have moved here but that is not always such a bad thing. I handle myself well enough, which is to say that I am not dead [i]yet.[/i][/color]” He paused a moment to consider this before tapping his nail against his porcelain mask. “[color=a0410d]There is still plenty of time for me to die tragically however-[/color]”

He didn't react very strongly to the revelation that they were being watched but he did stop talking, arching a brow at Midnight. He knew he could probably scare whoever or [i]whatever[/i] it was out of hiding with a large enough blast but that wouldn't be very subtle. He watched Midnight, only becoming distracted by the approach of another man. He was the older party, that much was evidential. His suit had just as much flair as his partner, it made Keandre wonder if he was under-dressed. It was like showing up to a costume party in a t-shirt.

[i]Faultline[/i], he thought. [i]And now I've met the whole team.[/i] 

“[color=a0410d]Éclater.[/color]” He responded, gaze flickering to the extended hand before taking it in his own and giving it a firm shake. The Frenchman had a slight slur to his words, an almost imperceptible lilt in his voice that made it quite clear that he was a little bit drunk. “[color=a0410d]We were just marveling about how we believe that we are being watched.[/color]
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