Outside, it was dusk enough to make the skyline dark. Above it rose a huge statue of someone in a seated position, holding a disk in their hands, head and shoulders and even most of their cloaked torso visible above the tops of the buildings. They looked down with their eyes closed, a hint of a smile on their lips. Whatever the statue was made of seemed to take on the colors of the sunset, giving it an almost ghostlike effect against the sky.

Something equally pale coasted around the statue on broad wings. Hawk watched it for a while, silent.

Vlad's phone pinged again as Hawk looked back round at him.

"So, uh," he said sheepishly, massaging the muscles in his neck and shoulder, "I made a fuckin' scene earlier, huh? S-sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, hon," Vlad said lightly, not looking up from his phone just yet. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Are you okay?" Hawk asked, somewhat awkwardly, because Vlad's nose was red against the paleness of his face, and he had a generally worn-out air about him. "You look like you been cryin'."

Vlad looked up at him then with a strange, sad expression, his shoulders hunched somewhat as if under some weight. He took a moment to respond.

"...When you were in the trade, did you ever hold out any hope of anyone rescuing you? Anyone at all?"

Hawk looked away, out the window again, and replied, "No. Never. Seemed too remote of a chance, y'know?"

Vlad followed his gaze. There were figures cavorting in the darkening courtyard below. "Yeah," he said, "I know."