Under The Hood! [Red Hood]

[hari]

The day had been quite a cold one at that, colder now as the day was moving into the afternoon, making it a little dreary outside as the hours left in the shop ticked by. Inside the Deli Cafe it, it was warm and toasty. Helped by the smell of all the delicious baked or cooked food. Soup and Cocoa of course had been the hot ticket item. Naturally along with freshly baked bread. Now in the day was slower. Calmer, not that it was an overall busy cafe. It was nothing overly fancy and probably not overly spoken about in Gotham. It was just what it was. With the quint fireplace in the corner slowly crackling away. It was a nice sound and left the place even warmer. There at the swing of the front door, came just the hint of the snowy outside as Dean. Harriet's brother walked through the door, just enough as he carried through with the last of the boxes. This was the official day. Moving in day. The real night Harriet would be sleeping in Gotham, with the intent it happening the next night. She wasn't so much afraid. Her mother was indeed closer here and that was where Harriet wanted to be, but this was a far cry from her comfortable room back on the farm. With a humbling sound seeping her lips, somewhere behind the counter and in the kitchen area. Harriet's hand sprinkled some more white flour. Before rolling her hands back over the dough she was kneading upon the table. She wore simple skinny jeans and a simple blue sweater. With half an apron that covered just below her waist and was white. Her hair was loosely out in golden brown locks. Her green eyes look up sweetly to catch her brother struggling to get the door, that led up stairs to her apartment and took a moment wiping her hands upon her apron as she went.

Catching the door and her hands motioned for one of the boxes on top of the other."Really, Dean I don't mind helping." As simply and sweetly Harriet's voice spoke to her brother. It felt well rude not helping. Especially when it was her boxes. She had initially helped, but with the work in the Deli, Dean insisted he could manage it. Just as her hands moved for the box, Dean juggled around almost dropping it, before he seemed more settled in his grasp… "Wait… There's no need, I've got it. Just. This should be the last of them… But I do suspect I'll be needing that pie to take home with me." Harriet amusingly shook her head slightly at his heroic attempt. It was cute. As Harriet smiled, there was little way he'd let her win on this, but getting a pie ready for him that Harriet knew she could do. Something she had baked earlier. With her time mostly spent here, it was concerning what Dean would be eating, not that he wasn't big enough. "There's one already with your name on it." Harrier sweetly added as she turned on her heels back to the kitchen. Dean leaving up the stairs of her apartment. Moving over to where she had the pies in the glass case. Removed the one for Dean and put it a side, wrapping it up carefully ready to go. Then came another swing at the door. Before Harriet went back to preparing the bread alongside her uncle, who was doing that same. Harriet approached the costumer. With a sweetened smile, Harriet greeted them. "Good afternoon… What would you like today, sir?" Asking kindly, but with that touch of shyness. As Harriet's eyes sparkled softly speaking invitingly. WIth the gentle brush of her hair behind her hair and the glow of her cheeks.

[redhood]

It was 1035 am. It was nearing the high point of the day where it would be hottest. Of course that was not the way jason saw it. It was colder than he'd felt in a while. That of course did not stop him from keeping his sights in tune. Over a mile away, jason was sitting on the rooftop of a building. His sights were in on a little bakery on the south side of gotham. It would be a hard shot to do, considering there was wind involved as well as about 4 inches of room to the shop keeps window. After his latest interrogation, he had recently found out that this shop was going to be the target of a bombing for the radicals in gotham.

Considering the response time from him getting to his target would be around 10 mins, that would be 10 minutes too late. Packing his rifle, which was a bored .50 cal, he would not have an issue. Lugging the rifle on his back, he proceeded to use acrobatics all the way to a building right across the street from the bakery. He would not miss, and he would prevent the bombing. Keeping his scope on a man who had just entered the shop, he steadied his hand. He recognized the man as a said radical. He would keep his finger on the trigger, and pulled if he attempted any funny business. But a woman was on hsi target sights as well, while jason swore in his head. "Blast. civilian, possibly two to three." said Jason quietly as he set his rifle down as he peered and saw a man moving a box up the stairs. Waiting a few minutes more, and he did not see one. So it was two civilians. No casualties thus far. He would keep his sight on the man for any sign of intentions to attack.

[hari]

The man before Harriet was in a lot of dark clothing, but then there was a lot of dark clothing in general these days. Especially in the wintery season. That nothing seemed too out of ordinary to Harriet as the man seemed rather polite and a little bit charming, he ordered some cherry pie and a hot beverage. He even paid."If you take seat, I'll bring that out to you, sir." Harriet spoke politely as she took the cash and put it in the register. Sliding it back shut. The man turned and took a seat somewhere in the middle. Surprisingly not really close to the fire. Harriet took one of the cups and went over to the coffee machine, began to brew it for a few seconds. Before it poured into the cup, with the gentle steam rising and she placed it upon a saucer. With two small homemade biscuits. Then cutting a decent size piece of the warmed pie and putting it upon a white plate. With cream and extra cherries. Little time wasted as Harriet put the pie and coffee upon the table where the man sat at. With little words, other than really simple sweet words to enjoy and Harriet returned to the kitchen area. Returning to where her uncle was. Picking up where she left off and prepared the bread, before popping it in the oven to rise. Then began to make another loaf, kneading the dough and rolling it. Sprinkle some more flour and repeated. There was always something to do, but Harriet enjoyed the work. Had since she was little, perhaps the fact of creating something. That and the peacefulness about it. Even with company, as Harriet smiled sweetly to her uncle. It seemed it was a family thing. Which seemed like a good few minutes, the man asked for a refill on his coffee. With the brush of her hands upon her apron, Harriet happily brewed another cup and brought it over to where he sat. With a little small talk about how he was very much enjoying the pie, before a sound came from above.

That mildly shook the cafe below. With the sounds of glass shattering and the walls creaking. It had that odd rumbling sound, Harriet wasn't sure what had happened, but the feeling of unease quickly came. With her Uncle peering around where he was as they both seemed to question what was that? "Excuse me… I'll just…" Harriet fumbled sweetly to her words as her green eyes looked to the door and concerned at what had happened. Given her brother had yet to come from upstairs and Harriet excused herself. She needed to check this out, but not knowing what it was sure made her nervous. Calming herself mildly as her hand motioned to open the door and thinking Dean must of just dropped something. Or moving something around. She was almost sure he was trying to be more helpful than carrying boxes. Harriet eventually got up the stairs and the door of the apartment was already a little open. Pushed the door open. Her eyes scanned with shock at how much blackness there was. Smoke covered half the air, that it was hard to tell, but it was like a bomb had exploded. Surely that couldn't of happened? Harriet wasn't even sure she'd knew what a bomb going off would look like, but Harriet knew it was just surreal. This stuff just didn't happen, save in movies . Slowly entering cautiously before she saw movement and the sounds of coughing. "Dean!" Motioned quickly over to Dean, not to far from the doorway, he must have been trying to escape and was merely knocked to the ground. As Harriet reached him, her hands reassuring her he was here and didn't appear to be any great damage, but it didn't stop her worry heart greatly. How did this happen? "Are you ok? What happened?" Harriet asked concernly and tried to help get to his feet calmly incase of internal damage, but they needed to get out of the smokey room. 'I'm fine.. Mostly i think. Don't worry… I was unpacking and after getting your alarm clock out, it started counting backwards.' Harriet nodded softly as Dean said he was fine, before getting to his feet and before his hand came to his head. The look in her eyes didn't agree, he was dizzy that couldn't be good, her hand wasn't leaving him and Dean could tell. As his hand took hers to tell her not to worry as if hearing it would completely stop her, but she had always listened to him. He was her big brother. As they moved back closer to the door and hearing about the alarm clock. It was newly bought in Gotham and as she slowly took it in. Harriet knew what he was meaning. "A bomb…" Really? Harriet more or less spoke out loud. In quite disbelief. She was far far from home. Dean nodded and a quick look back in the room with a shake of her head. Before moving to exit the room. When a sound below echoed to where they were upstairs. It didn't so much vibrate the place though as the bomb had. No it sounded like gunfire.

Soon Harriet and Dean came down the stairs. Back into the cafe area. There was no smoke. There was no blackness. In fact everything was intact and nothing out of place. Save the stillness. The fire still crackled in the corner, but the man was gone. Everyone was gone? Harriet couldn't help feel the weight in her chest. What was happening? As she gripped her hold a little more firmly on her brother. Where was her uncle? That last bit of hope imagined he was still where she left him and Harriet could almost smell the bread. Still cautiously she stepped closer into the cafe after realising she had been standing still at the doorway. The hairs on her neck were up and the goosebumps risen along her skin. Her throat caught. "Uncle?" Harriet managed to say oddly in a low tone, not quite a whisper. Approaching the kitchen. She saw feet. Legs. Just as she took another step to see more of the body, she saw the first sign of blood and she halted. With the squirming feeling and tried not to look at it. Finally Harriet stepped closer and saw her uncle on the floor. The shock washed over both Dean and Harriet. Then in just a second there came the sound of him struggling to breath. He was alive… Barely as Harriet quickly got hold of the phone to dial 911 as she rushed to his side, the blood stopping her a little, but his need for help pushed her. "Oh my god… Uncle…" Harriet remarked painfully as her eyes caught with tears and fear. The phone to her ear picked up and Harriet fumbled around for words in trying to get help to her uncle. Her free hand fumbled to her uncle as if in attempt to aid, but Harriet was at a lose at what to do. Barely able to look at the wound at his chest. There was so much blood. The smell. Made her nose wrinkle. With the looming question. How? Why? Why? Harriet was cut off guard a little in between her conversation with help on the phone. As her uncle was trying to speak. Choking at his words. Harriet wasn't exactly sure she knew what he was saying. Bringing the phone down a little to rest at the curve of her neck, with a mild clutch as if she wasn't about to let it go, but then he kept trying to speaking. Signal. 'Behind… you' Before lifting what he could to point.

Before Harriet realised and jumped out of fright, losing the phone in the process as she looked behind her. Saw the man in black behind her brother and in the time she turned. He had struck her brother. That he was knocked out to the floor. "Dean!" Harriet screamed his name, but choked on her words as the man's eyes came upon her. With some twisted form of a smile. Harriet looked between her family, in her heart of heart didn't want to just up and leave them, but she felt a pull to run. Stumbled back on the floor as the shear terror engulfed the expressions on her face and she felt oddly numb. As if she was here, but somehow she wasn't at the sometime. Her back came to cupboard and she got to her feet. Fearing though to turn. As the man came closer. Almost feeling corned, but there was room through the kitchen to get to the back door. It wasn't so much out of thought. Than just instinct. As the man back her up. Step by step, could she run. He was probably faster than her, but she had to try. As Harriet motioned a quick dash and reached the back door. Just as her hand was inched from the handle. The door swung open. Harriet almost jumped which felt like 10 yards as she was stopped by someone at the door. Another smile as the man came towards her swiftly with a sharp weapon. Harriet brought her arms up to protect what she could and felt the blade slice along the top of her right arm. Just above her wrist towards her elbow. Another cut near her left shoulder. Harriet screamed at the pain and could feel the warmness of the blood that trickled down her skin. A swipe came across her cheek, that all she could do was whimper. Harriet was backed up, back into the kitchen. With him upon her. Harriet turned to run, but was met without the man in black again. As if she had almost forgot. Harriet was trapped. His hand had as quickly came at her slim throat. His fingers felt rough tightly around her throat. "Please… I…. You can't do this… My family." Harriet begged as she took what courage she had to speak, especially with her uncle in the position he was in and god, she could only imagine what could happen to her brother. Then… Then her mother. As her tears at her eyes began to come, streaming a tear after another down her innocent cheek. She needed to have hope that her family would be safe. There came a chilful chuckle from the man with his hand at her throat, that it shook at the base of his hand. 'We can't, hon? Oh, but we can!' Just at that hope seemed all but gone as was gravity it seemed. As soon she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet as the man lifted her up by her throat. His grip grew tighter, that breathing was more than difficult and even harder to scream, but her cries. Her whimpers were still there, even if they were subtle. Her heart still thudded in fear and her tears stained her cheeks. In attempts to hold on out of instinct and need for her family.