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Summary
“That’s gonna get infected.” Comes a voice from down the alley, cold and disinterested. You freeze, and look up.
“Oh.”
“I mean,” says a man in a recognizable red helmet, “unless you disinfect it. Gothams dumpsters carry germs scientists haven’t even discovered.” He's leaning against the brick wall to your right near the entrance of the alley, his broad, intimidating figure literally blotting out the lights beyond. It's strange to see him so close up- in person, not in blurry photographs in magazines, or on the news.
Or: Encounters.