By now, Yasmeen had developed a routine for check-in days that both allowed her to see if any friends or crew arrived without engaging with hysterical strangers. She'd found a relatively stable spot with a view of the road from a large flat rock ideal for sunning, and it was there more often than not when she wanted it to be.

It had been today, so she'd taken up her sentry position and watched as a somewhat larger number of new arrivals than normal emerged. One rather bedraggled young woman on a broom raised an eyebrow, but she seemed to have her situation under control so she went back to her book.

The pale one with the interesting markings, though... he'd come through with a drawn and bloodied sword, and had more blood streaming from his hamstrings. In Gotham, she'd have paid him little mind and let the caped crowd deal with it. Here, she did run the perimeters to keep the place secure, so she stood, pocketed the book, and loped out to the road.

"Hold," she called and approached in a loose-limbed walk, all the more dangerous for the nonchalance, and no less so for the bikini top worn in place of a more substantial garment and paired with denim shorts and tall boots.