Robin watches Phalanx changing as he waits, pleased once again to see something strange and inherently magical happening in front of him... But also wary of the fact that they won't be able to speak like this once they ascend. No one is around to see them, and no one would be interested in their conversation in this remote corner of an access tunnel--but that won't be the case for long.
Still, he nods while Phalanx finds some words to describe the sound of something they knew in another place and time. He follows easily. What he's hearing isn't so different from how he sounds in his own head, half the time.
"Brass, maybe? Trumpets, trombones, that sort of thing."
Swing, maybe, or those fast-tap jazz numbers. He wonders if Phalanx would enjoy going to a show somewhere, here in the Underground. He wonders if they could sit still long enough to enjoy it. Maybe some of them like music, but maybe some of them don't.
Somewhere, very high above them, a humming sound filters down through the vents and tunnels, accompanied by soft clicking and popping noises as the grid slowly wakes up. Inset bulbs high in the ceiling slowly warm, spilling a dim, dirty light over the both of them. It's much less dramatic than the way it had turned off the night before. Robin pays the change no mind, watching their rickety cab slowly descend the elevator shaft instead.
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Still, he nods while Phalanx finds some words to describe the sound of something they knew in another place and time. He follows easily. What he's hearing isn't so different from how he sounds in his own head, half the time.
"Brass, maybe? Trumpets, trombones, that sort of thing."
Swing, maybe, or those fast-tap jazz numbers. He wonders if Phalanx would enjoy going to a show somewhere, here in the Underground. He wonders if they could sit still long enough to enjoy it. Maybe some of them like music, but maybe some of them don't.
Somewhere, very high above them, a humming sound filters down through the vents and tunnels, accompanied by soft clicking and popping noises as the grid slowly wakes up. Inset bulbs high in the ceiling slowly warm, spilling a dim, dirty light over the both of them. It's much less dramatic than the way it had turned off the night before. Robin pays the change no mind, watching their rickety cab slowly descend the elevator shaft instead.