[quote=@Archmage MC]
Light found a table for the two of them to sit at, and while there was a couple agents interested in the pair, most ignored them doing their own thing. Light pointed out this fact and explained that she is here all the time so the non-meta agents were used to her. And she also pointed out if they were scared of Owlman and his... interesting... eating habits they wouldn't be agents in the first place because they'll see far, far worse.

"But I'll tell you, it sucks not being able to use most technology." Light said, glancing at the few agents having fun texting on their phones. "No computers, I've gotta use a 50's remote for my TV, and I can't play video games! No internet or video games makes me very angry sometimes." She finished, puffing a bit of smoke out of her mouth as she exhaled. She recomposed herself soon after while she a waffle.

"But I guess being a superhero is pretty cool. You should come on one of my missions when a zombie virus pops up. You'd probably enjoy it, I know I do! Zombie parts, everywhere!" Light said, a bit too excited while she remembered the mission she was assigned to 8 months ago when a town in Sweden fell out of contact with the rest of the world and she found a town of zombies. She began explaining the story, complaining at times about some weird zombies she had fought, one of them that ate her for a good couple of days and the like. 

When she was done, she asked Owlman if he had any good stories or something.

[@Gentlemanvaultboy]
[/quote]

The Owlman did recall a fond encounter with what he supposed counted as his nemisis, The Goatman. What he thought must be a homeless guy that lived in the park, the Goatman had the lower body and horns of a goat and had been terrorizing the area for months. A mugger and carjacker, his MO had been to leap from the park onto a passing car and beat on the roof until they stopped and got out. Anyone who didn't run got a swift kick to head before he'd either loot the car of all its valuables or just take the whole thing.

It must have been fate that The Owlman had been taking his evening stroll and caught sight of one such incident, and from there it had been a fight. One hell of a fight, actually. Shirts had come off. Wings had come out. That scraggly hobo had really been able to jump, charge, and[i] kick[/i]. One of his wings had been broken in the scuffle, which lead to a really long and awkward recovery process, but he'd torn enough holes in his leathery hide that blood loss took him down.

He still got letters from prison vowing revenge when he got out. He really wasn't sure how to feel about that, but he knew it wasn't supposed to feel as cool as it did.

This was of course all mimed out by, for example, making finger horns and throwing mock punches between strips of bacon ripped to pieces and messily devoured by his beak.