Avatar of Juno
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    1. Juno 7 yrs ago

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Bio

British & Gay. First played video games on an Atari ST.

Would be willing to retry 1x1s if you're interested in old school sci-fi. Even sci-fi video games.

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Interacting With: @Polaris North

"I wasn't told much in advance, so no, I don't know," Leo replied, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his leather pants. "I don't think there's even any adults around to ask." He thought of the lady with the auburn hair who looked a few years older than all of them, and considered if nineteen could count as an adult. A quick correction followed: "No instructors, at least. You'd think they'd be better prepared."

For someone who had been 'home-schooled' in the loosest sense of the term – left alone with newspapers and books and told to give it a go – the whole concept of an academy was foreign to him. He couldn't be surprised that there wasn't someone to corral them into an ordered line and quiet them down, but he could certainly be disappointed, apprehensive, sceptical, the works. (Herding cats didn't work; Leo would follow along if he wanted to follow along, and that was that.)

The blind boy had two cats of his own. 'Dog people' believed that if someone had a loyal pooch, they were automatically in the right. True or not, Leo had no such sixth sense with people who preferred feline companions. The one with the lions could be arrogant, vapid, and/or a slavedriver with a whip behind closed doors. There were a lot of students with cats. Perhaps the other girl with the wild curls and a black cat trailing behind her high-heels – someone he'd risked a second glance at – was the real one to watch out for.

So, Leo simply leaned over as if going to pet the nearest one, whose name he was certain he would find out in the near future, but let his hand dangle for the cat itself to inspect. "Your cats are well-trained. Better than a dog, and I bet they can be twice as vicious, too," he couldn't help but say with admiration. They were exquisite – or more likely, he thought with some embarrassment – he just really, really loved cats. "I'm Leo."





An entrance fit for a queen: Biff arrived in a rust-bucket of a Voltswagen Pinto, a rental from a shady dealer who operated without proper identification. There was no red carpet rolled out, no fanfare, no choir of angels, but all of those things were old-fashioned now. She would settle for Chas, her driver (and Dear Old Dad's most stalwart of friends) exiting the car first to open the door for her, fetching her rolling suitcase from the boot like a manservant or experienced taxi driver. Chivalry hadn't kicked the bucket yet.

"All good?" he asked, returning to the driver's seat of the car as quickly as possible. It must be all the teenage hormones in the air, like a smog.

With the slight raise of an eyebrow, she nodded in confirmation. "All good." Chas rolled down the window so as to lean out of it, and they shook hands. Biff cursed a grip that was weak and limp and embarrassingly unpracticed. Nobody did handshakes anymore. They were old-fashioned.

"If you need an escape route, give me a call, alright? John would kill me if I didn't pick up."

"Won't you be in London?" Biff asked quizzically. They were already a world away; there was no way that the man would stay so far away from home just on the off-chance that she needed a getaway driver. "Don't want to impose, or– or anything like that, I guess. Dear Old Dad's got enough friends this side of the pond." She was not talking about Papa Midnite and his like, for once. She didn't count frenemies.

Chas shrugged. "Give me a few days notice, then."

"Fair enough."

There was very little to say after that that hadn't already been exhausted on the drive there, and for two un-talkative folk, that was like the death knell of conversation. Biff decided to call it quits at that point, offering a salute from her eyebrow piercing up. He was a good guy. Now that he had left, however, she turned her attention towards the menagerie of creatures great and small cluttering up the gates.

Hope they're paying someone to take care of the lion shit.

Biff had been promised a library, one that likely had the tomes and texts that only the rich were able to access. So far she had seen no such library––only a lot of kids and a long wait. Drawing a loose cigarette from a crumpled carton, she lit it up as she pulled her luggage along with her. It was heavy, because it was mostly books.






Interacting With: @Polaris North

Well, thought Leo with uncharacteristic charity, it's certainly isolated. Mom didn't lie on that front. The academy was to be his base of operations for the foreseeable future – though he doubted it would ever be so warm and comfortable as to be considered 'home' – and loathed though he was to admit it, there were worse places he could be. The shape of some of the buildings (the dorms, perhaps?) was exquisitely expensive, the sort that might have fine modern art pieces in the hallways "just because". There would surely be something suitable to decorate his own room with.

As it was, he brought few things with him. Only an old backpack's worth. Everything else (and there was a lot of 'else') had been sent ahead, with his mother calling in a favour with an old friend. It was partially the reason he was even there to begin with. Before Leo knew it, he had been corralled into the kitchen of their penthouse-slash-lair and informed that all of his precious belongings had been sent away, and that he was to go with them. That was Plan B, in case he didn't want to go. Plan A worked. Catwoman knew just how to convince someone of his sort with a just a handful of little words: "Don't you want to learn to be like me?"

They weren't going to teach him that, Leo was sure. The only way one could learn to be Catwoman was on the streets of Gotham, in sweaty dojos and opulent galas alike. Something different, then.

For someone who had never seen the outside of Gotham in his life, Leo considered it an interesting diversion from the rest of his life; a heist in which he didn't know what he was looking for yet. It would take a night or two to explore the academy, but after that, he could begin to pick out the best spots for lonely hearts and high vantage points that required a good climb to get to. What would he even look at up there? Fields? There were no high-rises to speak of.

With a curious dark gaze, Leo surveyed the others. There might be something interesting for him to look at; a motley crew that rivalled the sort of mismatched crooks in locked up in Blackgate Penitentiary. Judging by the colourful cast and the one boy who was "Frank fricking Sage", Arkham Asylum might have been more apt.

Big cats fascinated Leo, and they always had. The skulking elegance of a panther, the vibrancy of a tiger, and the untiring huntresses in the Savannah providing for their pride. Catwoman brought one home once – not a lion, no, but a Bengal, raised in captivity and sold to some gangster. She promptly stole him away to her apartment, where she lay around on him like a sofa and patted him like a pet cat, until he expressed his desire to leave, at which point she found a home for him. Leo had cried for days when he woke up and realised that the short-lived experience was over. It was before he accepted that these things happened.

He could have done what Selina Kyle would have done. Mom would stalk right up there and schmooze until whatever caught her eye returned his or her attention. Something different, he reminded himself. Leo skirted around the edges of the group until he was on the fringes, eyes flickering from student to student. A woman with a cigar – that was a dirty habit. Another red-head – wasn't that a dying gene?

In the end, Leo didn't head towards the girl with the lions, or the smoker, or the clearly sane person talking to himself. It wasn't charity so much as it was curiosity. He had heard rumours of the masked vigilante in Manhattan, whose identity was recently unveiled, being able to see without seeing. Padding wordlessly and noiselessly towards the boy with the cane, falling into step with him, he asked, "Need a hand?"


@Caits Pssst, is Leo good to post in the other tab?
@Caits@Vicier

No harm in asking, of course. =]

Historically I only really made gay ladies, but I'm feeling the intense need to make characters I wouldn't usually for Pride month. Shake it up a little. Rainbows all over the place.
@Caits

He's not particularly enamoured with male gender roles and presentation that might be expected of him (which I thought might be fair, given the association with cats, Catwoman, and femininity), doesn't feel 'like a dude', doesn't care what pronouns get used for him, and probably cross-dresses on occasion, but mostly the first three contribute to his gender identity.

'Genderqueer' might be a more fair description, but there's so many different terms that mean almost the same thing these days; they're almost interchangeable.
@Caits

I have finished a second character, and now I can finally start on writing up a post or two by the end of the day.





@BlackPanther

@Caits

I decided to channel a bit of DC first. I read earlier that there was a bit of a gender imbalance, and I'd hate to contribute to that, so I might make a male character too for net 0.


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