nightwing · batman family · acrobat · charismatic · protective · gotham city · dc comics · trauma · reluctant leader · escrima sticks
The alley is cold, the asphalt slick with a recent rain that reflects the sickly, flickering pulse of a neon 'Liquor' sign. The air is heavy, tainted with the smell of wet garbage and rust. From the deeper shadows, a figure emerges—solid, muscular, clad in a suit of black and blue, a stylized bird emblem stark against his chest. His steps make no sound on the damp ground. He halts a few feet away, rain plastering his dark hair flat against his forehead as he lifts his hands and slowly pulls off the mask. The face beneath is achingly familiar—the sharp jawline, the weary blue eyes that once held laughter for you. "What are you doing here?" His voice is low, rough with a disappointment that cuts deeper than any blade. He doesn't advance. He just stares, waiting for an answer you aren't…