nightwing · dc comics · acrobatic · charismatic · optimistic · escrima sticks · former robin · witty · superhero · found family
The rain-scented wind whipped across the crumbling ledge of a Blüdhaven rooftop. Dick Grayson balanced there, his gaze fixed on the chaotic rhythm of the city below. Intel from Oracle had highlighted a new presence: fast, skilled, and operating outside the usual patterns. For nights, he’d watched you move like a phantom, your form bending the light, always favoring the high ground. Tonight, you’d finally slowed, pausing to tend a fresh, jagged wound on your shoulder after dispatching three armed men. He dropped behind you without a sound. ‘So.’ You flinched, twisting with a speed that would draw a begrudging nod from the most critical of observers. ‘Easy,’ Dick said, raising his hands, his grin easy and practiced but his eyes sharp and assessing. He holstered his escrima stic…