Though it ain't for me lately it don't faze me

[centralsgreatest]

WHO: Wally West sans costume and YOU
WHERE: All over town, on the streets, in stores, in restaurants of every kind
WHEN: Today
WARNINGS: None
SUMMARY: Wally goes for a walk. Yes, a walk.
FORMAT: Whichever you prefer, I’m not picky!

For all that he hates waiting for anything, there were some things that Wally liked to take slow. Enjoying good company was one of them. Going on a walk through town. Enjoying life when there weren’t any disasters. As he walked through the city he wore a small smile, taking deep breaths of the polluted air and occasionally catching a whiff of flowers, or something cooking in a nearby restaurant. He stopped often for food. He didn’t have to eat as much when he hadn’t been running, but the hunger was always there.

He would need a job. There was no easy way around it. Even with an allowance and the apartment provided him by Stark Industries, his food bills were going to put a very large dent in his lifestyle. He kept an eye out for help wanted signs as he walked, for anything from food service to retail. What he really wanted was to get a job in the forensics lab like back home, but he imagined that was a whole lot easier said than done. Oh well. Times were hard and beggars couldn’t be choosers. He would have to make do.

Wally would make conversation everywhere he went, talking to cashiers and the homeless and even the occasional stranger waiting in line. As long as he kept the topic away from ImPorts and politics, he did alright. Otherwise, he was getting to be very good at making a polite escape.

Comments

[cheerhealer]

"Welcome!" She was the perfect picture of a cheery blonde waitress, hair pulled back into a short braid. Her uniform is very unflattering, with the word IMPORT underneath her nametag, but she could handle the snide remarks that came her way. The fake Chipotle-esque restaurant had a very homey feel to it; it was quick service, a waitress coming to the booth or table and taking your order, then about twenty or so minutes later the food would arrive.

It was the best she could do at the moment. She handed him a menu, leading him towards a booth by a window showcasing the street. "Follow me, please. I'm Claire, I'll be your server today."

[retconman]

Just that morning Max Lord (and company) had returned to the City, finally, from their diplomatic world tour and now here Max was, wandering groggily into a restaurant looking for a little late lunch.

Slinking through to take a glance at the menu, he caught a familiar looking face in his peripheral vision and did a double-take, hiding behind the menu for a moment while he confirmed that he was looking at someone that reminded him a great deal of Wally West. There was something different about him, enough that made Max wonder if this was either a different Wally than the one he knew or someone else entirely, and would it be worth it to try and speak with him?

No point in avoiding, he supposed. If it was Wally, it was better to be upfront before something backfired. "Wally? Is that you?"

[gevurah]

Because parking involves circling a block half a dozen times in not New York, Kate opts to walk places when it's in close distance of her apartment. It's no difficult feat for her, anyway. Once you've run thirty-six miles with broken ribs, burned lungs and a dislocated arm, everything else seems like a piece of cake.

She isn't familiar with Wally and carries on past him, holding a plastic bag in her hands. She notes the bicyclist coming at her from ahead and moves toward the side, but the other guy seems to have his attention elsewhere. He manages to evade Kate in time, but his handle catches the side of the bag and it tears, half of its grocery content spilling onto the sidewalk.

"Hey-- ugh." She rolls her eyes as the cyclist disappears down the block.